Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Biologically Determined Dom/sub Roles, BDSM, Bad BDSM etiquette, Sadism, Masochism, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Self-Harm, BDSM as a Form of Self-Harm, Minor Character Death(s), Arson, Shades of Black Widow Wei Wuxian, Extremely Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Normalized Homosexuality and Bisexuality, Normalized Polyamory, Nonsexual BDSM, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Pining Wei Wuxian, Jealous Wei Wuxian, Touch-Starved Wei Wuxian, Professional Dominant Wei Wuxian, Sex Worker Wei Wuxian, Gentle Dom Lan Wangji, Mean Dom Lan Wangji, Oblivious Lan Wangji, Past Wen Chao/Wei Wuxian, Minor Jin Guangyao/Wei Wuxian, Mentioned Wei Wuxian/Others, Emotional Infidelity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Endgame Wangxian, Mo Xuanyu Also Gets a Happy Ending, the tags are scary but i promise there's some lightheartedness too, wangxian love one another so much, wei wuxian is healed by the power of nonsexual bdsm and friendship, and then gets bdsm'd quite sexually and happily by the love of his life, Additional Warnings In Author's Note
- general Wen Chao unpleasantness
- forced sleep deprivation
After Wei Wuxian cleans himself up and dresses himself in the pajamas Lan Zhan chose for him, he kneels by the bed, forehead braced against the mattress. The pieces of his half-completed toy clack together as he yanks the bag out from beneath it. For a time, he simply stares at the component pieces, turning the parts over in his hand before setting them aside.
Finally, his fingers trace over the dildo-like object he’s already carved, making sure it’s as smooth as he remembers. When he’s satisfied, he applies the sealant he’d bought with Lan Zhan’s money and balances it by its wide, flat base on the corner of the table by the bed.
Though it’s late enough that he could go to bed—he’s certainly gone through enough today—he opens the window to ventilate the room and then chooses to sits on the bench instead. The cool breeze somewhat relieves the nervousness taking root in his heart, but it’s still not enough to fully settle him. All that work Lan Zhan’s done on him and it’s still not enough.
When he does fall asleep, it’s with his face half-mashed into the window frame, body curved awkwardly. In the morning, he tries to rub away the indent in his cheek to no avail. In addition to the obvious mark on his face, his skin is pale and bruised with lack of sleep. His body aches in a way that cannot be described as sweet.
*
As soon as Lan Zhan sees him, expression caught halfway between concern and annoyance, he orders Wei Wuxian to brew tea again, a soft ball as far as orders go.
Even compared to the care Lan Zhan had taken with him last night, it’s a pathetic request.
But human biology is a dumb animal of a thing. Though he hates what it means, his body is perfectly satisfied with the task.
While he’s waiting for the water to heat, Mo Xuanyu stumbles into the residence and kneels reflexively at Lan Zhan’s side. Though Wei Wuxian startles at his sudden arrival, his hands remain steady as Lan Zhan slips his fingers beneath the thin collar around Mo Xuanyu’s throat and tugs lightly. His chin is the perfect height for him to use Lan Zhan’s knee as a resting place for it.
“How was your night?” Lan Zhan asks.
“Good,” Mo Xuanyu replies. He leans into Lan Zhan’s hand, angling himself in such a way that Lan Zhan winds up cupping the back of his skull as Mo Xuanyu looks up at him. The intimacy of the act nearly undoes Wei Wuxian. Even the boiling sound of the water inside the kettle goes unnoticed for a time. “Did you two have fun without me?”
Though Wei Wuxian only has two cups ready to pour tea into, he quickly takes a third from the cabinet and adds it to the tray waiting to be brought to the table. When the time comes, he fixes a smile to his mouth.
“We did,” Lan Zhan answers.
When Wei Wuxian passes the first cup to Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan puts it to Mo Xuanyu’s lips. The second, he also takes as expected. Before Wei Wuxian can pour his own, Lan Zhan stretches half across the table toward him, Mo Xuanyu watching keenly from the floor. Like with Mo Xuanyu, he holds it to Wei Wuxian’s lips, forcing Wei Wuxian to drink. Bitter tannins burst across his tongue and the mouth feel is scouring where it should be delicate and silken. He hadn’t been careful enough while brewing it, too distracted by Mo Xuanyu’s arrival to notice.
Lan Zhan’s order for silence remains in place, so he would have to break Lan Zhan’s hold on his tongue to speak. He doesn’t want to do that in front of Mo Xuanyu.
“Again,” Lan Zhan says, “and correctly this time. I can tell from looking at your face that you think you’ve done it poorly.”
This time, he’s careful to ensure the tea is perfect as he passes the final cup to Lan Zhan. As he sips it, Lan Zhan nods in appreciation. “Good.”
It feels more like a victory than it ought to, this praise, considering how badly he’d messed it up the first time.
The rest of the morning passes in a haze of similarly gentle orders. They grow more and more restrictive until Wei Wuxian can scarcely breathe without Lan Zhan’s say so. Wei Wuxian eats when he is told to, drinks when he’s told to, rests, kneels, stands, sits, practices the guqin, all when he’s told to. When Lan Zhan says they’re going for a walk, they go for a walk.
The whole time, he waits for Lan Zhan to make reference to putting him under. The whole time, his wait is in vain. He thinks Lan Zhan must not intend to address it at all.
He strolls quietly with Lan Zhan around the grounds as Mo Xuanyu flits about. When the afternoon sun stretches toward dark, Mo Xuanyu begs off. “Mingjue will be leaving in the morning. I’d like to stay with them one last night.”
Wei Wuxian watches Lan Zhan’s reaction closely, but nothing changes in his expression as he gives his permission. Wei Wuxian wants to ask if he’ll miss Mo Xuanyu tonight, but the amount of effort it would take to disobey isn’t worth the possibility of Lan Zhan figuring out how he breaks orders and why he breaks them. If Lan Zhan found out how much Wei Wuxian enjoys the feeling of pain he’s come to associate with disobeying, Lan Zhan would probably find it disturbing. Worse, he’d probably stop ordering Wei Wuxian around entirely, landing them right back where they started. It definitely goes beyond the normal brattiness some submissives play with. So. Better to keep quiet, enjoy the small pulse of pleasure he does feel for obeying well.
They finish their walk and return to the residence, where Wei Wuxian again helps prep ingredients for dinner. Lan Zhan pushes concerns about Mo Xuanyu from Wei Wuxian’s mind by resuming his litany of fussy demands on Wei Wuxian’s actions, order overlaying order as he tells Wei Wuxian how, when, and where to do every tiny thing until Wei Wuxian’s head spins with the number thrown at him.
It’s almost like a game, and as such, Wei Wuxian relishes it.
*
After dinner, Lan Zhan supplies Wei Wuxian with a jar of Tianzixiao and a petite glass. “I’m going to ask you to allow me to do something that goes against your wishes. I would like to apologize in advance for this.” He pours Wei Wuxian a cup filled nearly to the brim and passes it over. “And I am encouraging you to say no if you have any misgivings at all. Speak freely to me, Wei Ying.”
The first thing that comes to mind is Lan Zhan fucking him, which brings him to hardness so quickly he almost feels lightheaded by the possibility. Leaning his elbow on the table, he forces himself to breathe, to be normal. He swallows the liquor and finds his voice at the bottom of the glass. “What do you want to do with me?”
“I’ve been watching you all day,” Lan Zhan says, twisting the bottle of Tianzixiao between his hands.
“So?”
“I bombarded you with orders. Some of them were even contradictory, but you never questioned them.” He pours another glass. “You handled them like a machine would. They should have overwhelmed you. I believed that alone would be enough to put you in that mindset.”
Wei Wuxian still doesn’t see what Lan Zhan’s getting at, but he holds his tongue. Lan Zhan will clarify himself in his own time and way.
“I watched how you have been,” he repeats, making him sound nervous despite the certainty he tries to project, “and how you were when we embraced the other night. I think you were closer to going under then than at any point today.”
“What does this have to do with my request?”
“I’m telling you I think skin to skin contact will help.”
“But what do you want to do to me?”
“Bathing is often touted as a remedy for stress. Records of its use as a curative date back thousands of years.” Lan Zhan’s voice grows quieter, somber. “It’s why the hot springs back home are so important to us. My family has often struggled with our natures. We’ve sought and found solace there.”
Wei Wuxian’s heart pounds as he imagines Lan Zhan and him and Lan Zhan’s definition of skin to skin contact. He doesn’t pull punches, does he? “So you want to bathe together?”
“I would not impose upon you in that way,” Lan Zhan says. He’s unable to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes as he says this, “but I would like to tend to you if you’d allow that much. I think it would be beneficial.”
Oh. That is rather disappointing if he’s being honest to himself.
“It would require at least partial nudity on your part,” Lan Zhan explains. “I know you are opposed to it, and I cannot blame you for that, but I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t think it could be useful. Perhaps Mo Xuanyu would be willing—”
“Not Mo Xuanyu,” Wei Wuxian says too quickly. If anyone is going to touch him during a bath, it will be Lan Zhan. “Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” Lan Zhan answers, topping up Wei Wuxian’s glass for a third time. “How long has it been since you were under?”
His mouth moves almost of its own accord, though the rest of him freezes in recognition of the question as a threat. “Never,” he says, too late to stop himself. Maybe Lan Zhan’s run of orders have done more to him than Lan Zhan thought. His mind is a tangle. He never would have said something like that if he’d been more on top of things.
A splash of Tianzixiao strikes the table as Lan Zhan’s grip on the bottle shifts. Lan Zhan looks at him, then away, then scrubs the table with his sleeve. As soon as he realizes what he’s doing, he jerks his hand away, almost knocking the glass over. “Never?”
“Lan Zhan—”
“Not once?” Lan Zhan says. “Not even when you were with Wen Chao?”
Wei Wuxian shakes his head. Before Lan Zhan can try to fill the glass again, he blocks the rim with his palm. “It wasn’t important to him,” Wei Wuxian says, as far from the truth as he can get without making Lan Zhan suspicious. “Pretend you didn’t hear that? It’s fine, really. Who’d want to be put under by Wen Chao anyway?” He’s not even sure it would have been possible with how weak he was, but that’s something he’ll never now for sure one way or the other.
Approximately Eight Years Ago, Nightless City
“A-Ying,” Wen Chao calls, dragging Wei Wuxian’s mind back from the reverie he’d allowed himself to fall into while he kneels at the end of Wen Chao’s bed. This has, for the most part, become his role, watching Wen Chao service or be serviced by the submissives he’s married or otherwise forced into his household. He gets to see other submissives enjoy—for a given value of enjoyment—what he has been disallowed. The worst part is the fact that Wen Chao won’t let him sleep.
It’s probably one in the morning, or two, late enough that his eyes feel gritty when he blinks, his body having reached that hazy point where he could sink into something pleasanter through sheer exhaustion. Even the plug Wen Chao makes him wear nearly constantly, too small to truly arouse or tease him, feels rather nice as he shifts around.
The submissive he’s chosen for tonight went quiet and dreamy almost right away. She must be an easy one to push under.
Lucky her.
It’s his own mistake that he’s not fully aware when a hand wrenches him back by the hair. The sharp snap of his neck feels incredible, but it robs him from the peaceful evenness he might have found if Wen Chao hadn’t noticed him.
These days, Wen Chao always notices him. Even when he pretends his attention isn’t on Wei Wuxian, Wen Chao’s focus forms a cloying miasma around Wei Wuxian that never lets him settle into relaxation or ease.
“You know you’re not allowed to slip with me,” Wen Chao says.
“Yes, sir,” Wei Wuxian replies, raspy. “I’m sorry, sir.” There was a time when saying such a thing with even a modicum of earnestness would have been impossible. Now, it’s ingrained habit. From the bed, Wen Chao’s conquest whines and calls Wen Chao back to her, begging him so prettily. He can’t remember her name, but he thinks she might be one of the nicer ones. To be honest, he’s not very good at recognizing them any longer, the ones who look out for the rest and the ones who don’t.
Probably, she’s not interested in helping Wei Wuxian. They learn fast that doing so will only make them miserable. It’s just his good fortune that she’s wanton for Wen Chao or playing at it very well.
Again, Wen Chao yanks on his hair. He slaps Wei Wuxian once across the cheek. The pain steadies him, which only angers Wen Chao more. There’s nothing he can do to Wei Wuxian that can truly serve as punishment anymore. Pain never stymies him. It only took a year for him to lose the ability to feel shame about the orgasms Wen Chao used to force from him before he got bored of trying to sexually dominate him. There’s so little he can hold over Wei Wuxian’s head as long as Wei Wuxian does what he’s told and doesn’t talk back.
Another slap rings out, snapping his head to the side.
This time, Wei Wuxian barely feels it. A pity.
Wen Chao doesn’t bother to kneel, but he bends close enough that they’re nearly nose to nose. His breath is rancid, sweet with decay and excess. “Wei Ying, ah, Wei Ying,” he says, patting Wei Wuxian’s swelling cheek. “You think I can’t tell what you’re doing. One day you’ll wish you’d been properly obedient to me.”
One day, he’ll wish for a lot of things. Wen Chao’s not special that way.
But at this moment, he believes it’s enough to be as obedient as he has to be to protect his family and no more. That, he feels, is as proper as he has to be.
*
Lan Zhan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Wei Wuxian bites his lower lip long enough that he thinks he’s safe from blurting out the truth. “You said I could speak freely.”
“I’m not ordering you to answer me.” Lan Zhan grips the bottle of Tianzixiao like he wants to drink it himself before letting go of it entirely. After a handful of breaths, scant seconds, he composes himself again. His hands fold into his lap, strangling one another instead of the bottle. “I’d like to take you in for an assessment with a medical professional. They can induce a safe surrender. That would be better, don’t you think?”
“Lan Zhan…”
“Anyone else would have fallen apart by now.” Lan Zhan’s voice cracks. “At the very least, they would have gone under for any one of the things I’ve done to you. Wei Ying, how am I supposed to help when I can’t even do the bare minimum to assist you? I didn’t see that you needed orders. I didn’t see that you’ve never…” His throat bobs. “You can’t possibly trust me to do right by you.”
The same anger he’d felt in Nie Mingjue’s company swells within him again. It doesn’t catch him by surprise this time, rising slowly within him before exploding all at once. He has no control over it, definitely can’t stop it, but he sees it coming.
When he speaks, his voice is not his, and it’s not Lan Zhan’s either. “And you know what submissives need, do you? You’re that experienced with us that you can decide how it should be?” The chair squeals as he stands, clatters as it tips and falls. Wei Wuxian needs distance between himself and Lan Zhan. He pushes himself against the kitchen counter, as far as he can get without leaving the room. “You fixed one troubled submissive, so I should be easy to repair, too?”
“That’s not—”
“I’m sorry I’m too difficult for the great Lan Wangji to subdue.”
“Wei Ying—”
“Do you know how many pieces of myself I’ve given up to people I don’t care about?” Wei Wuxian’s voice trembles with a rage so cold it burns. Who is Lan Zhan to force him to come here and cast him aside? “You might as well cut me loose now if you want to foist me off on a stranger.”
“I cannot leave your contract to the state.”
It’s pointless to lean on his own experience with dominance, but he can’t stand the stooped curve of Lan Zhan’s shoulder any longer and how he’s the one responsible for putting that weight there. He forces his tone to sound commanding. “Cut me loose. You don’t owe me anything. I’ll figure it out myself.”
It has no effect. Of course, it doesn’t. Lan Zhan can’t make anything easy. “No.”
But neither can Wei Wuxian.
“Then stop talking about sending me to someone else.” Before Lan Zhan can argue with him, he strides out of the room, taking the bottle of Tianzixiao with him. Though he plans to drink himself silly, all he can do once he’s closed the door to his room is stare at the ridiculously carved mold still waiting on the table next to the bed.
He imagines Lan Zhan storming in here and seeing it through with him right here on the bed, forcing Wei Wuxian under with his cock buried deep in his ass or down his throat. Lan Zhan wouldn’t let him go until he’s pliant, vulnerable, totally at his mercy. Wei Wuxian would be put so far down that the concept of will couldn’t exist for him any longer. He would be a conduit for Lan Zhan’s desires, an automaton, little more than a doll and happy to be so.
He wants to believe being under would be like being cuffed without a quick release or dangled over the side of a cliff without a net to catch him should he fall. For a person like him, who’s never been properly tamed, it would be miraculous and terrifying. He only ever wants to be at Lan Zhan’s mercy that way, but he never wants Lan Zhan to see him that way either. He should have told Lan Zhan he doesn’t want or need to be put under, should never have allowed him to believe it was possible. He should have assured Lan Zhan all along that all he needed were these pleasant little fictions, these carefully brewed cups of tea, the thinly sliced vegetables, the poetry recited on his knees. They’ve helped enough to get him by. He shouldn’t have let Lan Zhan make him believe reaching for more was possible without a fight.
Wen Chao found every edge of him and confronted him with them, making him fear them. He wants Lan Zhan to push him past those boundaries and show him he has nothing to fear.