Chapter Text
“I can’t believe you bought a cursed ribbon!” Wei Ying says between laughs as they step into the Jingshi. “Something bad happened and for once it’s not my fault, what a day.”
Lan Wangji can’t even defend himself. Wei Ying is right. Lan Wangji was so distracted by the thought of Wei Ying’s hair that he didn’t even notice the spell in the ribbon. If his uncle knew of his absentmindedness and lack of discipline, Lan Wangji would never hear the end of it.
“Ah, so I finally get to see your home,” Wei Ying says. He drags Lan Wangji through the Jingshi as if he owns the place. “It was awfully rude of you not to invite me inside last time.”
“It was past curfew and you had alcohol with you,” Lan Wangji defends himself, watching as Wei Ying touches every single thing in the Jingshi he comes into contact with.
Wei Ying makes a mournful sound. “And I didn’t even get to drink it, my poor Emperor's Smile,” he whines. “Good thing I bought more.”
Before Lan Wangji can respond to that piece of information and rule violation, Wei Ying pulls him towards the sleeping area of the Jingshi. With zero shame, Wei Ying collapses face first onto the bed, inevitably dragging Lan Wangji down after him using the ribbon. Lan Wangji barely manages to prevent himself from falling right onto Wei Ying’s back and instead falls to his side beside him, bouncing a little on the mattress.
Wei Ying does a strange starfishing motion on his stomach, before he turns his head and smiles sunnily at Lan Wangji. “This is where you sleep? I like your bed.”
Embarrassed, Lan Wangji closes his eyes in the hopes that Wei Ying will disappear. Wei Ying is in his bed. Where Lan Wangji sleeps. This is where they would both sleep if they were married—
Wei Ying pokes his cheek. “Gege, don’t ignore me. You finally have me in your bed and you’re closing your eyes? I’m offended.”
Lan Wangji opens his eyes and finds himself face to face with Wei Ying, their noses almost brushing. Lan Wangji’s breath catches in his throat. He’s not sure where to place his gaze: Wei Ying’s eyes or his nose or his hair or his lips. He settles for Wei Ying’s eyes, because when Wei Ying smiles his eyes crinkle at the corners and squint a little, bright with joy. No matter how annoying he can be, it’s a sight Lan Wangji finds wondrous every time.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji murmurs hoarsely. I want to kiss you , he wants to say.
But Wei Ying sits up abruptly and pulls out a qiankun pouch from inside his robes. He rummages through and with an “aha!” pulls out a bottle of Emperor's Smile, brandishing it proudly.
Lan Wangji sits up and attempts to grab the jar. “Wei Ying!” He reprimands. “Alcohol is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses, you know this.”
“No way, I’m not letting you destroy this one too,” Wei Ying yells, holding his arm out of reach. He frowns at Lan Wangji. “This isn’t cheap, you know.”
Lan Wangji glares but apparently he’s lost his intimidating presence because Wei Ying just smiles softly. “Don’t be angry, Lan Zhan,” he teases. “You’re not going to deprive your future husband of something he loves, are you?”
Lan Wangji thinks his heart stops working. “Husband?” He says, strangled.
“Husband,” Wei Ying confirms. He nods his head to their bound wrists. “We’re handfasted aren’t we? You’re practically my betrothed now, we just need to do our three bows.”
“You want to be married?” Lan Wangji manages to say. To me?
Wei Ying hums. “Maybe not today, or tomorrow,” he says thoughtfully. “You’ll have to ask my uncles and my Shifu for permission, and I’ll have to talk to your uncle and Zewu Jun. My shishu will be probably have to negotiate with your uncle—do we need dowries? I don’t really have anything to offer. Hm, and a wedding. I don’t know if you want a big or small wedding, but shishu and Song-ge didn’t have a wedding and I want one. I think you’d look very pretty in red, Lan Zhan. We’d have to have the wedding here in Cloud Recesses obviously, but we’ll need more red decor. Oh and it’ll probably be the first time Shifu comes down from the Celestial Mountain in a while so it’ll be a big deal, everyone will want to come probably. I think we’ll need a wedding planner… “
Wei Ying continues talking and Lan Wangji stares at him with his mouth parted in a look unbecoming of a Lan. His ears are becoming warmer with every word that comes out of Wei Ying’s mouth. He wants to marry Lan Wangji? Even though they’ve only known each other for a month?
“We’ll also need to figure out an auspicious date. Lan Zhan, are you listening to me, when’s your birthday?”
Lan Wangji blinks and meets Wei Ying’s expectant gaze. He swallows and says, “January 23rd.”
Wei Ying plays with the ribbon lying between them, his Emperor's Smile forgotten at the floor. “Hm, I don’t really know what that means with regards to a wedding date, so we’re going to need to consult a fortune teller.”
Lan Wangji is still stuck on Wei Ying wanting to marry him and Wei Ying is already trying to plan and figure out their wedding date. “You want to marry me?” He asks. “You have only known me for a month.”
The space between Wei Ying’s eyebrows creases in a confused frown. “A month? Lan Zhan, I’ve known you for at least three years. My uncles talked about you all the time, and they always let me read the letters you send. I’ve liked you for a long time, of course I want to marry you.”
Speechless, Lan Wangji stares at Wei Ying’s earnest face, feeling as if the bed has been pulled out from underneath him and he is floating, weightless in the air. Wei Ying has liked him all this time.
He must take too long to respond because Wei Ying’s face falls a little, and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, averting his gaze. “Ah, unless you don’t want to marry me?” His voice sounds small for the first time since Lan Wangji has known him. “I know I think too fast and get ahead of myself sometimes. I didn’t mean to spring this on you.” He groans, covering his face with his free hand. “Oh heavens, shishu is going to kill me, you can pretend I didn’t say anything—”
“No!” Lan Wangji interrupts, too loud, too raw, so unlike him it makes Wei Ying startle a little as he looks up. “No,” he says again, trying to control his voice. “I want to—” He swallows, the words a turmoil inside his throat, as he whispers, “I want to marry you.”
It’s a little absurd, considering marriage has not been on his mind, but the more he thinks about it the more it feels absolutely right. Wei Ying is nothing like the ideal spouse his uncle probably imagines for him, but he is Lan Wangji’s ideal husband— future husband. He matches Lan Wangji in strength and intelligence, and he brings a joy to Lan Wangji’s heart he hasn’t felt in a long time. Even when he thinks of it logically and without emotion, Wei Ying is perfect and checks even part of Shufu’s checklist. He comes from a good family, is a strong cultivator, and upholds justice. He may not always be respectful and follow the Gusu Lan principles, but Lan Wangji has learned from both his brother and Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen that goodness comes not from following the rules, but from the heart. And Wei Ying has the most beautiful and good heart Lan Wangji has seen.
Wei Ying’s face blooms with a hesitant smile. “Really?”
In a nervous movement so unlike himself, Lan Wangji intertwines the fingers of their bound hands together. He gives Wei Ying’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I have also known you for three years,” he says and hopes Wei Ying knows what he’s trying to say.
Wei Ying whoops, and his laugh is a sound filled with absolute delight. He throws himself at Lan Wangji, pushing him to his back and tucking his face into his neck. Lan Wangji hesitates briefly, before he places his free hand on the small of Wei Ying’s back. His other arm lays by his side, hand still held in Wei Ying’s.
Wei Ying lifts his head just enough so that he can look at Lan Wangji. He grins. “You can tell me, Lan Zhan, did you put the spell on the ribbon so we can get accidentally handfasted?”
Lan Wangji almost throws him off. “Do not be foolish,” he bites out, but his glare weakens with the way Wei Ying is smiling at him. “You are—annoying,” he huffs.
Wei Ying’s grin only widens, and in a move that surprises Lan Wangji to stillness, he boops his nose. “I am!” Wei Ying agrees. He sounds unbearably giddy. “But you like me anyways.”
He is annoying and he will always be annoying but he’s right, Lan Wangji likes him. He has liked him since the first time Xiao Xingchen mentioned Wei Ying. It has been this simmering, growing thing inside him, becoming bigger with every mention of Wei Ying’s kind and righteous acts in Xiao Xingchen’s letters over the years, every note Wei Ying sneaked in along with the letters, every time Wei Ying teased him, every time Wei Ying laughed or smiled at Lan Wangji. The proof is in the stuttering of Lan Wangji’s heart when he looks at Wei Ying, in the butterfly talisman he always keeps inside his robes by his chest.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmurs, his face suddenly so close. “Can I kiss you?”
Lan Wangji swallows, throat suddenly dry and his gaze drops to Wei Ying’s lips. “One kiss,” he answers, hoarse. One kiss more for his own self control than Wei Ying’s, because Lan Wangji wants more than just one kiss.
“One kiss,” Wei Ying agrees and tilts his head just so, letting their lips brush against each other.
Wei Ying’s lips are soft, a little chapped in some places. He tastes like sugar from all the treats he’s eaten. Lan Wangji has never really enjoyed sweet things, but the taste on Wei Ying’s lips is addicting. Wei Ying kisses him fervently, pressing him down against the bed. It’s more than just one kiss, but Lan Wangji finds that he doesn’t care. He licks the part of Wei Ying’s lips, bites softly at his lower lip like he’s always imagined, holds his face with his free hand.
They part when Lan Wangji feels his chest constrict with breathlessness. Wei Ying is a vision above him, flushed cheeks and red bitten lips. He licks his lips as if he’s tasting Lan Wangji there, and Lan Wangji does the same. He tilts his head up to kiss Wei Ying again, but Wei Ying pushes his head back with a finger on his lips.
“One kiss,” Wei Ying reminds him, lips quirked up in amusement. “Can’t ruin Lan-er-gongzi’s virtue, your brother and uncle would smite me.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji says, even though he wants nothing more than to kiss Wei Ying again. Perhaps he is the more shameless one out of the two of them.
Wei Ying sits up, so his butt is half situated on Lan Wangji’s groin and half on Lan Wangji’s stomach. Lan Wangji silently prays that he doesn’t get hard. Maintain your inner discipline , he reminds himself.
Wei Ying fiddles with the tassels at Lan Wangji’s belt. “It’s almost bedtime for good Lans, what’s your evening routine?”
Lan Wangji’s evening routine includes a bath, but alarm bells go off in his head at the thought of being naked—or even worse, Wei Ying being naked. “Meditation, qin, sleep,” he answers, skipping over the bath.
Wei Ying narrows his eyes. “Do you bathe in the mornings then?”
Lan Wangji wants the ground to swallow him up. He nods. Hopefully, by the morning the spell on the ribbon will have faded and he won’t have to be subjected to the activity of bathing while his and Wei Ying’s hands are still connected.
“Great, we can bathe together, then,” Wei Ying says with absolutely no shame, like he wasn’t talking about preserving Lan Wangji’s virtue only moments ago. He scrunches up his face. “Right so meditation first, I’m not really the greatest at this.”
So Lan Wangji ends up meditating while Wei Ying sits beside him and draws on the low table with the paper and ink Lan Wangji provided him. Surprisingly, Lan Wangji finds the experience soothing. With his eyes closed, he can only smell the incense, hear the faint sound of Wei Ying’s brush on the paper, and feel Wei Ying’s hand in his. They still haven’t let go, despite the fact that there’s a good amount of the ribbon slack between them. They don’t need to be holding hands, they’re not stuck, but still, they do.
Because Wei Ying is Wei Ying, of course, he interrupts Lan Wangji’s meditation to show him his drawing.
“Look Lan Zhan, rabbits!”
Lan Wangji takes the drawing with a gentle hand, and can’t help the soft smile that overtakes his lips. It’s a drawing of two rabbits, one white and one black. The white rabbit has a ribbon on its forehead with cloud patterns, the black rabbit has a red ribbon around its ears.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, you’re smiling. So pretty,” Wei Ying murmurs.
Under any other circumstances such a comment would have had Lan Wangji pulling out Bichen. But Wei Ying is looking at Lan Wangji with such a tenderness that’s unlike his usual mischief that Lan Wangji can’t bring himself to glare.
“Thank you,” he says instead. “You are skilled in painting.”
Wei Ying laughs, a little abashed. “I’ve always liked to doodle little pictures for the small shidis at home—and Shifu makes me illustrate for the texts she and the other laoshis write, so it’s just practice, I guess.”
“I am honoured to own a piece from a famous artist like yourself, then,” Lan Wangji murmurs, smoothing the rabbit painting down on the table carefully. It’s borderline shameless, but perhaps he will hang it up somewhere in the Jingshi.
Wei Ying covers his face with his hands, pulling free of their hand hold. “Ah Lan Zhan, you can’t just say nice things like that, it’s embarrassing.”
“ Have affection and gratefulness, ” Lan Wangji recites one of the Gusu Lan principles. “One must therefore show gratitude for a gift and compliment the skills and hard work of the giver.”
Wei Ying screams a little into his hands. “You have to promise to warn me before you say nice things when we’re married, Lan Zhan,” he mumbles. “I won’t be able to take this level of sincerity every day.”
“We will need to build up your tolerance then,” Lan Wangji says simply, secretly enjoying the embarrassed groan he gets in response. Now that he knows what embarasses Wei Ying easily, he will strive to get these reactions from him frequently. It’s revenge for all the times Wei Ying annoys and flusters him.
Attempting to play the qin while one of his hands is bound to Wei Ying’s proves to be somewhat of a failure. There’s enough slack in the ribbon that Lan Wangji is able to put both hands on the strings and play normally, so long as Wei Ying is seated right beside him, shoulder to shoulder, so that’s not the issue.
The issue is that Wei Ying can’t sit still or be quiet enough for Lan Wangji to even play anything. First he fiddles with the strings and demands that Lan Wangji teaches him the basics.
Lan Wangji sighs and acquiesces. Quarterway through this impromptu qin lesson, Wei Ying gets bored, lamenting that the task is too hard. “Can you play something cool? Like inquiry? I heard that’s a special Lan skill.”
Lan Wangji huffs impercitably. “Inquiry is a skill that takes years of practice to develop, and there are no spirits in the Jingshi to speak to.”
“Ugh,” Wei Ying wails and drapes himself over Lan Wangji’s lap, head settled on his thighs and looking up at Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji tenses up, but there’s no one in the Jingshi but them, and they are betrothed. Physician affection should be allowed in their own home.
He looks down at Wei Ying and says, ears already going red, “If you remain quiet, I will play you a—a special song.”
Wei Ying immediately narrows in on the opportunity for teasing and reaches up to gently pull on one of Lan Wangji’s earlobes with glee. “A special song? Did you write it, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Wangji nods and Wei Ying slaps his chest excitedly. “A song written by one of the twin jades of Gusu himself! A special performance just for me!” Wei Ying exclaims, and then promptly folds his hands across his chest and closes his eyes. “This humble one promises to be quiet, Lan Zhan.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji murmurs, though he somehow doubts Wei Ying’s ability to stay silent.
It’s strange to play the qin with Wei Ying lying in his lap. The song he plays is one he’s been working on for the past few years, and now as he plays it for Wei Ying he realizes what the song is about—and who it’s for. The realization is frankly a little embarrassing, but he doesn’t let it interrupt his playing.
As promised, Wei Ying is quiet, but halfway through the song he begins humming and Lan Wangji is surprised to find that he caught on to the tune so easily, humming in perfect sync. With Wei Ying’s eyes closed, Lan Wangji smiles privately to himself, content.
When the last note of the song hums through the air, Wei Ying opens his eyes and stares up at Lan Wangji with the beginnings of sleep on his face. “Excellent performance Lan-er-gege,” he mumbles, and then his eyes snap open, more awake. He looks accusingly at Lan Wangji. “This is a love song,” he realizes.
Lan Wangji, too embarrassed to reply, says nothing.
Wei Ying cackles. “I didn’t know Lan-er-gongzi was such a romantic! Is it for me, Lan Zhan? Did you write this for me?” He teases, poking Lan Wangji’s cheek. “What’s it called?”
Annoyed, Lan Wangji grabs the attacking finger. “Shut up,” he orders, and when Wei Ying opens his mouth to say something probably annoying again, Lan Wangji bites the finger he’s holding (gently). The unexpected action makes them both freeze.
“You bit me,” Wei Ying says, shocked.
Lan Wangji blinks, Wei Ying’s finger still between his teeth. Stunned, he slowly releases his hold on Wei Ying’s finger. This is, of course, a fatal mistake because he’s dealing with Wei Ying , shameless troublemaker extraordinaire. Instead of pulling his finger out of Lan Wangji’s mouth like a normal person, Wei Ying looks at him carefully and slips another finger into Lan Wangji’s mouth, pressing down softly on his tongue.
Suddenly everything feels too hot and too wet, and Lan Wangji makes a small moaning noise that’s beyond his control and immediately drowns him in embarrassment. Wei Ying’s fingers feel huge in his mouth, and Wei Ying’s head is still in his lap, so close to his—
Abruptly, Wei Ying sits up, his knees on either side of Lan Wangji’s hips, butt seated firmly in his lap. He’s looking at Lan Wangji like he wants to devour him whole and it makes Lan Wangji’s gut tighten in overwhelming arousal.
Slowly, Wei Ying pulls his fingers out of Lan Wangji’s mouth and traces his bottom lip with them, spreading the wetness. Lan Wangji, too keyed up for this slow foreplay, surges forward and connects their lips in an uncoordinated and dirty kiss. Wei Ying kisses back just as hard, parting his mouth and licking and biting Lan Wangji’s lips just as good as he gets.
His hips are making little twitching movements in Lan Wangji’s lap. Wei Ying gets his hands between them and starts undoing Lan Wangji’s sash, and Lan Wangji, too stupid from kissing doesn’t even think to help him. Wei Ying huffs a small laugh against his mouth and pulls back, panting. Both their sashes are undone between them, leaving their robes loose.
Wei Ying’s outer robe is down to his elbows, and his inner robes are sliding off one shoulder, revealing the sharpness of his collarbones and the solidness of his shoulder. Lan Wangji greedily takes his fill of the naked skin, and without a thought he leans forward and bites at the juncture of Wei Ying’s neck and shoulder.
“Ah!” Wei Ying yells, but one of his hands goes to the back of Lan Wangji’s head and keeps him there.
Lan Wangji, overtaken by a possessive urge, bites and sucks on the skin of Wei Ying’s neck until he’s sure there will be a mark left. Once he’s satisfied he pulls back to find Wei Ying staring at him with amusement.
“And if someone sees this bruise you left on me, what do I say, hm?” He asks, his hand tugging at the hair at the back of Lan Wangji’s neck. “Should I say that the famous Second Jade of Gusu mauled my neck? Who will believe me? What happened to one kiss only?”
Lan Wangji no longer even has the grace to be embarrassed. He’s accepted that when it comes to Wei Ying, in the privacy of the Jingshi, he is past the need for discipline. So he says, “There are 97 principles with regards to marital affairs, one of them is attend to your spouse’s emotional, physical and sexual needs. ”
Wei Ying’s eyes widen with delight. “Scandalous! Are these marital principles written on the wall of discipline?” He laughs. “I can’t imagine Grandmaster Lan allowing that.”
“They are in a separate book in the library, available to those entering marriage.”
“We should study that book together,” Wei Yings says, his tone salacious. And then because he lives to get on Lan Wangji’s nerves, he murmurs, “but we’re not married yet, Lan Zhan, so those marital rules don’t apply to us. Promiscuity is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, how could you take advantage of a guest disciple like me and seduce me to break the rules.”
Lan Wangji’s hands tighten on Wei Ying’s hips in a barely contained mixture of annoyance and arousal. “You misunderstand the rule,” he grits out.
The promiscuity rule discourages inappropriate public sexual displays, but it doesn’t mean that sex is not allowed. Instead, healthy and consenual sex is encouraged, albeit quietly. Many of Lan Wangji’s classmates have had sexual partners and experiences, but it’s something Lan Wangji wasn’t particularly interested in until now.
“Okay.” Wei Ying shrugs. He holds his unbound hand up to Lan Wangji’s face. “Then lick.”
Lan Wangji, a little confused but too annoyed and turned on to care, does as asked. It should be a little awkward, licking Wei Ying’s hand, but the way Wei Ying’s gaze becomes heated when Lan Wangji licks his way from his palm up to kiss each fingertip makes the activity pleasure inducing. Lan Wangji, because he’s still annoyed, makes sure to nip at the flesh of Wei Ying’s fingertips after each kiss. It makes Wei Ying wince a little and his hips twitch forward.
When Lan Wangji goes to put Wei Ying’s fingers in his mouth, Wei Ying huffs in frustration and pulls his hand away. Lan Wangji can’t help the smug look on his face. Two can play at this game. Except, Wei Ying proceeds to wipe the smug look away when he sneaks his wet hand between them and pulls Lan Wangji’s pants just low enough to wrap his hand around his cock.
La Wangji inhales sharply. His entire body tenses with the languid pleasure of Wei Ying stroking him. It’s nothing like when he touches himself. Wei Ying is slow, almost lazy with his touches, and his hand is different. Smaller, rougher. Before Lan Wangji can even get used to this sensation, Wei Ying is pulling his own pants down and then suddenly he’s stroking both of them together with one hand.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji gasps, overwhelmed by the sight of his cock right against Wei Ying’s.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying moans.
His hand is too small to wrap around both of them fully, and the saliva has dried out and it’s bordering on dry and painful, but the sensation still sends a zing of pleasure up Lan Wangji’s spine. Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to do with his hands, with his mouth. He feels too warm beneath his robes. And Wei Ying—Wei Ying does not shut up.
He has his face tucked into Lan Wangji’s neck and his breath is hot and wet when he speaks between pants. “You’re so big, gege, feel so good against me,” he says breathily. “What if you were inside me or— oh , what if I was inside you?”
His hips are constantly twitching, the friction between their cocks feels so good. “My fingers in your mouth looked so good,” Wei Ying says, mouthing at Lan Wangji’s neck. “What if I put my cock in there? Do you want to suck me, Lan Zhan, would you like that? I want my mouth on you.”
“Shut up,” Lan Wangji hisses, so overwhelmed by the images in his head. He imagines his mouth on Wei Ying’s cock, imagines the way Wei Ying’s thighs would tense. The thought of Wei Ying’s stupid sinful lips wrapped around him almost threatens to make him come.
Wei Ying laughs obnoxiously against Lan Wangji’s neck. His hand hasn’t stopped its furious stroking between them. “Are you going to come? Just from me running my mouth?”
He bites and the sharp pain at his neck is enough to send Lan Wangji’s hips stuttering against Wei Ying’s hand as he comes. His entire body slumps forward as he gasps through his orgasm. Wei Ying strokes him through it, using his come to make the glide easier and right when Lan Wangji is on the edge of oversensitivity, Wei Ying comes with a drawn out moan.
They take a moment to breathe as they come down from the high. Lan Wangji’s brain is silent in post-orgasmic bliss. Wei Ying pulls his face back from the juncture of Lan Wangji’s neck and smiles a little dopily at him. His hair is in disarray and his robes are all askew and there’s a bruise blooming on his neck. Lan Wangji wants to see him like this every night.
And then Wei Ying lifts his hand and begins licking the mixture of come off and Lan Wangji’s brain fizzles out. “Wei Ying,” he admonishes, “that is—”
Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “What? Disgusting? Sexy? Do you want a taste?” He holds the offending hand towards Lan Wangji’s face.
“Ridiculous,” Lan Wangji huffs and slaps Wei Ying’s hand away. “Get up.”
It’s a little awkward getting themselves cleaned up and using the chamber pot when the ribbon joining them doesn’t allow them to leave each other’s side. They’ve mostly managed not to soil their robes with their orgasms, but they still feel sweaty. With the ribbon tying their hands together of course, it’s impossible to take off their robes without cutting them off, so they end up in bed fully clothed.
“See this is why you shouldn’t wear a dozen layers,” Wei Ying says.
“Six layers,” Lan Wangji corrects. He’s on his back in his typical sleep posture and he looks at Wei Ying from the corner of his eyes.
Unlike Lan Wangji, Wei Ying doesn’t immediately get situated on the bed. He’s constantly fiddling with the covers and his own robes, stretching his legs and arms and whacking Lan Wangji more than once.
After one too many hits on his person, Lan Wangji turns to his side and gathers Wei Ying into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest so he can’t move. Wei Ying makes a surprised little noise before he wraps his arm around Lan Wangji’s waist. The ribbon tying their hands lies between them.
“Aw Lan Zhan, you’re a cuddler,” Wei Ying says, voice muffled into Lan Wangji’s neck.
Exasperated and a little fond, Lan Wangji murmurs, “Go to sleep, Wei Ying.”
As he does every morning, Lan Wangji wakes up at mao shi. For a moment he’s confused about the weight on his chest, but opening his eyes reveals Wei Ying’s head on his chest and his hair in Lan Wangi’s face. Gently, so not to disturb him, he pushes Wei Ying off his body. Wei Ying’s face is quiet in sleep like it never is when he’s awake. He sleeps with his mouth open, and there’s drool leaking out of the side of his mouth. When Lan Wangji touches his chest where Wei Ying’s head had been he grimaces as he feels the wetness there. Wei Ying had drooled on him. It’s both disgusting and endearing.
Lan Wangji is halfway off the bed when he realizes the ribbon is no longer on his wrist. It’s not on Wei Ying’s either, instead it’s somehow made its way to the floor by the bed at some point in the night when the spell must have worn off. Lan Wangji picks it up gingerly and after checking the spell is gone, he folds it up and places it on the bedside table.
Seeing as Wei Ying is likely to stay asleep for a few more hours, Lan Wangji deems it safe to bathe. It’s strange walking around without the ribbon on his wrist and Wei Ying constantly at his side. It’s even stranger to think about how easily Wei Ying has inserted himself into Lan Wangji’s life in a matter of weeks, so much so that his absence is deeply felt even though he’s only in the next room over.
As he fills the tub with water from the well behind the jingshi, he contemplates his feelings for Wei Ying and attempts to order them into something rational and organized. If he brings his wish to marry Wei Ying to Shufu, the first criticism will be that Lan Wangji has only known Wei Ying for a month. It’s not an invalid criticism, considering that he and Wei Ying only confessed their mutual attraction yesterday.
But he has known Wei Ying since the first time Xiao Xingchen mentioned his nephew all those years ago. He knows the quality of Wei Ying’s character, the type of person he is and he has always begrudgingly admired him—even when Wei Ying annoyed him and Lan Wangji refused the thought of even being his friend. And now, seeing him every day for the last month has produced this build up of affection inside him. Wei Ying’s smile and his laugh and even the way he annoys Lan Wangji half the time—Lan Wangji wants these things every day.
That cultivation partner he’d always dreamed of but never dared to think of having, he’s sleeping in Lan Wangji’s bed and Lan Wangji wants him there every night.
His brother will undoubtedly approve of the match, considering he’s the one who’s been pushing for a friendship between Lan Wangji and Wei Ying. And Shufu—despite his strict teachings, Lan Wangji knows all his uncle wants is for Lan Wangji and his brother to have the happiness their parents did not. And no one can deny that Wei Ying is an excellent and honourable cultivator. Perhaps a rogue cultivator isn’t the match that Shufu imagines for him, but Wei Ying is still a disciple of Baoshan Sanren and that’s no small thing.
As he sits in the hot water of the tub, he imagines breaking the news to Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen. He doesn’t expect either of them to be surprised, and knows that he and Wei Ying will get endless teasing from the couple. Though it’s annoying how his brother and Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen all predicted this would happen, it’s still comforting to know that they will be supportive of his and Wei Ying’s relationship. He wouldn’t be surprised if they have a bet going on about his and Wei Ying’s relationship status as well.
He hopes Xiao Xingchen hasn’t told Xichen about the accidental handfasting yet. Lan Wangji would rather be the one to explain, only to avoid the embarrassment of having his brother tease him.
“Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji startles and ends up splashing some water over the tub as Wei Ying suddenly comes into view. Lan Wangji sits, frozen in the tub, as Wei Ying starts stripping right in front of him.
“I can’t believe you’re bathing without me,” he grumbles. “Didn’t we say we’d have a bath together?”
Lan Wangji, whose mouth is currently dry with every patch of skin that’s revealed as Wei Ying undresses, cannot recall promising such a thing. “Wei Ying, this is—inappropriate,” he says hoarsely.
Wei Ying puts his hands on his hips—his bare hips. Lan Wangji struggles not to look south of Wei Ying’s stomach. “Inappropriate?” Wei Ying says as he steps into the tub. “I held your dick in my hand last night. Besides, we’re just bathing together, sharing water so we don’t have to do two trips. Unless you’re thinking inappropriately, Lan Zhan.”
Despite the size of the tub, it’s impossible to pull his limbs away from Wei Ying, and their legs inevitably end up touching. “I am not,” Lan Zhan replies.
“It’s okay, you can tell me your inappropriate thoughts, we’ll be acting them out soon enough anyways,” Wei Ying says, and then proceeds to surprise Lan Wangji by splashing water onto his face.
Lan Wangji splutters, and runs a hand down his face, blinding rapidly to shake the water off his eyelashes. For a moment, he doesn’t even know how to react, before he’s overtaken with such absolute annoyance. Without any higher brain function, he splashes Wei Ying back.
Wei Ying makes a completely unnecessary and ridiculous shrieking sound, before he bursts into laughter and lunges forward so his hands are on the rim of the tub, on either side of Lan Wangji’s head. Lan Wangji is annoyed and simultaneously enraptured with the shine of Wei Ying’s wet skin, droplets of water making their way down his neck and the line of his chest. He’s both pleased and embarrassed to notice the dark bruise by Wei Ying’s collarbone, where Lan Wangji had bitten and sucked at last night.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying murmurs and then ducks his head to brush his lips against Lan Wangji’s. He pulls back and then leans back down to kiss him once, twice, three times more.
It makes Lan Wangji breathless. “I must meet my brother for breakfast, he will be expecting me,” he says.
“So no more kisses?” Wei Ying teases. He sits back in the tub, sending ripples through the water. “That’s fine, I should come with you to meet Zewu Jun anyways.”
Lan Wangji blinks. “You want to ask today?” He can’t bring himself to say the word marriage.
“Hm.” Wei Ying shrugs with a grin. “We’ll likely have a long engagement before we’re actually married, so might as well ask and get things started now.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. Wei Ying’s words are not unreasonable. It will take months to plan the wedding, and if they’re both confident in their decision to marry then announcing their intentions to their families now is the most sensible course of action. “You’re sure?” He asks Wei Ying quietly, in a moment of vulnerability.
Wei Ying grabs his hand under the water. “Yes,” he says, in a tone of seriousness that Lan Wangji has rarely heard from him. “You’re it for me, Lan Zhan. Since I’ve known them, I’ve wanted what Song-ge and shishu have, wanted that person who compliments me, who’s my match the way they are to each other. That’s you, Lan Zhan.”
It’s strange to have his own thoughts voiced by Wei Ying. “Would you say and do the same if it weren’t for the forced circumstances of the ribbon?” Lan Wangji asks, just to be sure.
“Would you?” Wei Ying says, and he smiles when Lan Wangji shakes his head. “So there’s nothing to worry about then,” Wei Ying says, uncharacteristically soft. “It may be abrupt in some people’s eyes, but I’m sure if you’re sure.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. His heart is wildly beating in his chest, but he has never been surer of anything else.
—
The first thing Xichen does when Lan Wangji enters the Hanshi with Wei Ying in tow is let out a barely concealed laugh. Lan Wangji sends him a slightly exasperated glare that loses its effect with the way Xichen smiles brightly at them as they bow to him and seat themselves on the floor.
“That’s a lovely ribbon, Wei-gongze,” is the first thing Xichen says.
Wei Ying, whose hair is tied with both his classic red ribbon and the cursed blue ribbon Lan Wangji had gifted him, laughs nervously. “Thank you, Zewu Jun, Lan Zhan bought it for me.”
Lan Wangji, who is more experienced with deciphering the meanings behind his brother’s words, sighs. “Xingchen-ge told you.”
Xichen nods, looking too pleased at their expense. “I noticed him and Zichen-xiong leaving for Caiyi last evening and they explained the situation. It turns out it was a harmless spell put on the ribbons by the vendor’s son as a prank. Xingchen-xiong removed the spell from the rest of the ribbons so this incident doesn’t occur to any other unsuspecting buyers.”
Wei Ying huffs. “You’re telling me shishu knew how to remove the spell but he didn’t last night?”
Lan Wangji sighs again, simultaneously annoyed but thankful for Xiao Xingchen’s lack of interference for the ribbon. Perhaps his brother and Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen should take a side business of matchmaking.
“I am sure you know the engagement process will be long,” xiongzhang says kindly, “a year perhaps to conduct marriage negotiations and plan.”
It sounds absurdly long, but it’s what he and Wei Ying expected. “We will need to ask Shufu for permission,” Lan Wangji says.
“He will not deny you this, Wangji,” Xichen says confidently, and Lan Wangji wouldn’t be surprised if his brother has already spoken to Shufu about the merits of Lan Wangji marrying Wei Ying.
“Ah, Zewu Jun, let me serve you tea,” Wei Ying says suddenly.
Wei Ying, it turns out, can serve and pour tea with expertise. He holds his wide sleeve back gracefully as he pours the hot into the readied cups, and Lan Wangji imagines him doing this same act in glorious red robes, pouring tea to his brother and Shufu at their wedding.
Xiongzhang takes the offered teacup with a smile and a soft thank you. “It’s early, but have you given any thought as to what you will do once married?”
“We will travel,” Lan Wangji answers, confidently.
“We’ll spend half the year here,” Wei Ying says at the same time.
Xichen laughs and looks between the two of them with a raised eyebrow. Lan Wangji imagines it, half the year travelling and helping those in need, and half the year here in the Cloud Recesses to teach and rest.
“We will spend half the year here,” Lan Wangji relents, “and the other half travelling.”
That makes Wei Ying knock their shoulders together. His brother smiles, pleased, and begins asking Wei Ying questions about life on the Celestial Mountain and whether his Shifu will attend the wedding. Wei Ying answers enthusiastically, and though he knew of it already, Lan Wangji is glad to see that his brother likes and approves of Wei Ying.
Lan Wangji listens to their conversation with only half his attention, preoccupied with a daydream of his and Wei Ying’s future together. He doesn’t know if Wei Ying will stay in Cloud Recesses for the year of their engagement, most likely he will return to the Mountain to gather his Shifu’s approval and tell the rest of his family of his upcoming nuptials. Lan Wangji hopes they will exchange letters, letters Lan Wangji will actually reply to this time around.
There will be a wedding, a real one, not just a spell bound ribbon wrapped around their wrists. Wei Ying will look resplendent in red and Lan Wangji will take him back to the Jingshi—their home. They will travel together after, make their way from sect to sect and village to village, travel on untamed roads and help where they can, the moon as their guide They will meet new friends and old, make a home in every inn they spend the night and every tree they lay under.
It will not always be easy, Lan Wangji thinks. But there is a world to discover and growth to happen, and it will be made easier by the fact they are by each other’s side.