Beneath him, Wei Ying breathed in deeply and huffed out an amused, exhausted laugh. “Ah, Lan Zhan.” His voice was rough from their exertions and all the noises he’d made while Lan Wangji had held him down and fucked him. Proprietary, Lan Wangji stroked the length of Wei Ying’s warm, damp neck. His thumb settled under the hinge of Wei Ying’s jaw, catching the bright, bounding pulse of his heart. Grinning broadly, Wei Ying wrapped his hand around Lan Wangji’s wrist and squeezed lightly. “I never get tired of that.”
Using his free hand, Lan Wangji pushed Wei Ying’s sweaty, lank hair out of his face. “Nor do I.” Though he would have liked to remain between Wei Ying’s legs indefinitely, Wei Ying will soon grow uncomfortable if he’s not cleaned up properly, sweat and release drying on his skin. From experience, he knew it would take time before Wei Ying allowed it. “Let me run a bath for you.”
Wei Ying whined and tugged at Lan Wangji’s hand, pulling Lan Wangji down. He fussed until he was satisfied with the arrangement of their bodies, which meant that Wei Ying was wrapped around him from shoulder to ankle, legs and arms secure around whichever parts of Lan Wangji were most convenient. As always, Wei Ying’s ear found its way to Lan Wangji’s sternum. He sighed, dreamy, as his hand skimmed over Lan Wangji’s ribs. “Ah, Hanguang jun has made a mess of me again while looking so prim and polished still.”
It was true that Lan Wangji didn’t sweat as readily as Wei Ying and the positions they took with one another often resulted in Wei Ying coming out looking more disheveled than Lan Wangji. His hair was frequently tugged free of its ribbon by Lan Wangji’s hands. His clothing was more often ripped away than not in Lan Wangji’s impatience to see every centimeter of his beloved body. Wei Ying accepted everything Lan Wangji did to him with evident pleasure, always encouraging Lan Wangji to take more, to push harder, to give it to him with everything Lan Wangji had.
Lan Wangji took as much pleasure in righting Wei Ying afterward as he did in ravishing him and he was certain Wei Ying felt the same. He was sure of it. They hadn’t forced themselves through many awkward conversations about their desires for Lan Wangji to doubt himself or Wei Ying now.
But in all the time they’ve now shared with one another, he’d never made this observation before. It gave Lan Wangji pause. With Wei Ying, it might mean nothing, a mere tease, or it might mean something without him even realizing it.
Perhaps Lan Wangji did appear prim and polished in comparison. Maybe he didn’t seem like a mess. But within his heart, he was every bit as undone by Wei Ying as Wei Ying was undone by him.
“Wei Ying,” he said, capturing Wei Ying’s hand with his own. Lacing their fingers together he brought Wei Ying’s hand to his mouth, nipped lightly at Wei Ying’s knuckles before pressing a kiss to each. Surely Wei Ying could hear the way his heart was now beating violently against his rib cage. “Would you like to make a mess of me?”
Wei Ying drew in a sharp breath and went utterly still against him, tense, for a handful of seconds. Though they’d gotten better at it, it was never easy to discuss such things. He laughed gracelessly, but his body betrayed him as he rocked once against Lan Wangji’s flank. “Lan Zhan, how can you speak such filth? Who should be allowed to make a mess of you? Not this humble—”
“Wei Ying,” he said, rolling on top of Wei Ying to press him into the bed. He stared down at Wei Ying, searching his face for signs of dissatisfaction with their lovemaking. He found none. There was a glint of something in his eye though, something considering. Wei Ying had always liked puzzles and before him right now was a puzzle, a new possibility to be unlocked between them.
In the years they’d been together, they’d discovered many things about one another’s preferences. Lan Wangji was too sensitive a recipient to enjoy penetration and Wei Ying didn’t come easily enough to satisfy either of them when he tried. Wei Ying liked being debauched and forced to come as many times as Lan Wangji could make him while Lan Wangji drew gratification from manhandling Wei Ying and keeping himself from his own release for as long as possible. Lan Wangji enjoyed most of all when Wei Ying cried out for mercy he never truly wanted.
Given these parameters, Lan Wangji was not sure what else they might do, though it was clear Wei Ying had thought of something. Wei Ying was right. He’d never be tired of what they shared either, but he desperately wanted to know what novelty Wei Ying was considering anyway. Even if it failed, whatever it was, it would be worth the exploration of it. Lan Wangji was an avaricious man; there was nothing about Wei Ying that he didn’t want to know.
“I think I can make a mess of you,” Wei Ying said, words filled with wonder.
Lan Wangji’s heart stuttered, then galloped wildly within his chest.
He found, as soon as Wei Ying said it, that he wanted it desperately.
Wei Ying didn’t bring it up again over the next few days, but Lan Wangji noticed that he wouldn’t always meet Lan Wangji’s gaze. His face would get red seemingly at random. In turn, Lan Wangji would find himself flustered, though he hid it better from everyone except for Wei Ying, who always spotted the redness of his ears, the wetness of his lips, sure signs of his nervousness.
When they made love, he was even more easily stimulated than usual, gasping and moaning within seconds, leaking all over Lan Wangji’s hand in little more time than that. Though Lan Wangji was curious, he could embrace the mystery, knowing in the end it wouldn’t be one that hurt him. The secrets Wei Ying kept these days were never deadly and tended to bring Lan Wangji joy in the end: an unexpected trip planned with the help of Lan Wangji’s brother, a new variety of tea to try, a risqué painting of himself and Wei Ying that he’d enjoyed so many times it was beginning to wear around the edges of the paper.
In the meantime, he’d enjoy Wei Ying in the ways he’d always enjoyed Wei Ying even if it was over rather more quickly than normal.
As they ate, Wei Ying fussed with everything he could get his hands on, up to and including pieces of the sash wrapped around Lan Wangji’s waist. In truth, he spent more time fidgeting than eating. Under difference circumstances, Lan Wangji might have worried, but he could see the shape of Wei Ying’s embarrassment tonight and it was centered on the sometimes visible outline of his length against his robes.
Lan Wangji let it lie until he could let it lie no longer.
“Have you gotten started without me?” Lan Wangji murmured, holding his chopsticks to Wei Ying’s mouth. If he would not feed himself, Lan Wangji would gladly do it for him.
“Ah, n—”
Lan Wangji quickly pushed the chopsticks into Wei Ying’s mouth, forcing him to finish the half-eaten bun from his plate.
Wei Ying chewed quickly, swallowing without stopping to savor the taste. “Lan Zhan! Not fair!” When Lan Wangji plucked up a small bit of heavily spiced chicken from Wei Ying’s bowl, Wei Ying blocked it with his own pair of chopsticks and leaned heavily into Lan Wangji’s side. “How improper you are, Hanguang jun, teasing me at a time like this. Can’t a man be aroused by his husband in peace when he’s sitting so close? We’re eating dinner. There has to be a rule against seductions at mealtimes. What times we live in that—”
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying flushed a violent shade of red and dropped his chopsticks to the table to cover his face with his hands. “Lan Zhan, it’s too much for me. I can’t—you’re too attractive. There’s never been a person as beautiful as you in this entire world. How am I supposed to handle it?”
Though it was a vanity of his, Lan Wangji couldn’t help the surge of pride within him that he could please Wei Ying so. “Perhaps you are not meant to,” Lan Wangji said. “Perhaps instead you should show me how attractive you find me.” It was easier sometimes to couch his desires in terms such as these, a suggestion, a bit of banter, a flirtation only. He could trust Wei Ying would understand the sincerity and seriousness beneath his words. Please don’t withhold from me any longer.
“You haven’t finished eating,” Wei Ying said weakly.
“I’m not hungry for this.”
“What if I’m not ready?” He plucked the chopsticks from the table and rolled them between his palms. “What if it’s bad?”
“It won’t be bad. Nothing we do is bad.”
Wei Ying’s voice cracked on the imprecation he muttered, too impolite to be recognized. Lan Wangji pretended he didn’t hear it.
“Wei Ying,” he said, heated, leaning close. Their lips touched as he spoke and Wei Ying’s breath was gentle against his tongue. “Make a mess of me.”
Making a broken, aroused little sound, Wei Ying said, “Aiya, Lan Zhan,” and, “Okay, okay, okay.”
“If you don’t like this—” Wei Ying said, as he led Lan Wangji to their bed, “if you don’t like this, that’s fine, alright?”
He nodded agreeably. He felt certain that anything that made Wei Ying behave this way would be more than alright with him, but he’d learned that taking Wei Ying’s concerns seriously was paramount. Rejecting them out of hand would get them nowhere and might instead hurt Wei Ying’s feelings even if as far as Lan Wangji was concerned, there was nothing Wei Ying could do that Lan Wangji wouldn’t embrace if that was what Wei Ying wanted.
Wei Ying carefully began to undress him, taking each piece of his robe from him so slowly that Lan Wangji was already hardening within his trousers before Wei Ying was anywhere near ready to divest him of them.
Though Lan Wangji tried to catch his eyes, Wei Ying could not be cajoled from his meandering path to nudity.
When Wei Ying finally removed his shirt, he felt the air in a cold blast against his skin, pimpling it and making him shiver in surprise. Only his trousers remained and those Wei Ying quickly removed, too, leaving only himself dressed.
“I’ll keep you warm, er gege,” Wei Ying promised, chafing his arms once he was done putting aside Lan Wangji’s clothes. Even through the layers of fabric, his body was as warm as he promised. Lan Wangji swayed forward to take a kiss and an embrace from him. Both, Wei Ying gave freely, though each was short-lived.
Lan Wangji refused to pout as Wei Ying pulled away.
“Sit on the edge of the bed, please,” Wei Ying said as he removed his ribbon from his hair. Sleek and shining, it fell around his shoulders in a dark, enticing cascade. Lan Wangji wanted to stroke it. When he tried, Wei Ying took hold of his hand and pushed him down. “Sit, please. Less touching.”
Now he thought he understood Wei Ying’s earlier concern. Lan Wangji didn’t like the thought of not touching Wei Ying.
Wei Ying favored him with a brief kiss, barely more than a peck. When did Wei Ying get so stingy with such caresses? That, he didn’t like either.
“Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself?” he asked, studying Lan Wangji closely. His eyes roved over every centimeter of Lan Wangji’s exposed body. When the question fully penetrated Lan Wangji’s already preoccupied mind, he could only shake his head. The answer, in truth, was no and they both knew it.
“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said sweetly. He held up his ribbon. “Will this help, do you think?”
Anticipation built between them, a nearly unfathomable pressure exerting itself as Lan Wangji considered it. Was this what had driven Wei Ying so mad over the last few days? Though it wasn’t something he’d considered before, not with himself anyway, he tried to imagine what it might feel like to give himself over to Wei Ying in this manner. The moment stretched. Before Lan Wangji could give his consent, Wei Ying broke first, dropping the ribbon into his hand and balling it up.
“That’s okay, Lan Zhan. You don’t have to keep your hands to yourself.” He smiled brightly. “How do you want me?”
But though he said this cheerfully enough, Lan Zhan could tell now that it was an important piece of this scene he was spinning out between them. Lan Wangji knew him, knew now that he’d spent all this time imagining what it might look like to wrap Lan Wangji’s hands in red. He didn’t want to disappoint Wei Ying, not when he was intrigued by the possibility, too.
He held out his hands. “I want this.”
Wei Ying’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in rounded surprise. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Breathing in and out a few times, Wei Ying nodded. “Alright. Alright, we can… yeah. Yes.” He took Lan Wangji’s hands in his own and squeezed. “Will you place your hands behind your head and cross them at the wrist?”
Lan Wangji swallowed, throat going dry at the request. He did as Wei Ying asked, enjoying the stretch of his muscles and the way Wei Ying couldn’t help but flick his gaze down to his chest and then lower, where Lan Wangji was stirring rather obviously. “This is what you thought about?”
“Part of it,” Wei Ying admitted as he stepped between Lan Wangji’s legs and carefully tied the ribbon around his wrists, intent precisely on what he was doing and nothing else. It wasn’t tight, the ribbon, and wouldn’t truly hold him in place, but as Lan Wangji watched Wei Ying, he knew he wouldn’t break free of it no matter how easy it was to get out of. When he was done, he seemed so pleased with it, his thumb skimming over the ribbon again and again. Then he looked down at Lan Wangji. “How is it?”
Lan Wangji nodded. Again, his voice failed him, tongue all but sticking to the roof of his mouth.
“Lie down for me?”
Lan Wangji pushed himself back and carefully wriggled toward the center of the bed, mussing the bedding as he went. It wasn’t terribly dignified, the way he struggled, but Wei Ying seemed to like it as he followed Lan Wangji onto the bed, only stopping long enough to remove his boots before he settled again into the vee of Lan Wangji’s legs.
Wei Ying’s hand slid first up and down Lan Wangji’s thigh. His palm was warm and soft and his touch was thorough. The addition of the ribbon and what the ribbon symbolized made it all he more exciting. Like this, Wei Ying might do anything.
From this angle, Wei Ying’s clothing hid far more than they revealed.
“Wei Ying, please,” he said, not even certain what he was asking for. He supposed he only wanted whatever Wei Ying wished to give to him.
“How long can I keep you here?” Wei Ying said, but though it was a question, it wasn’t one directed to Lan Wangji. It was more like when he was busy coming up with some new invention or other. At those times, he often asked himself questions and found the answer for himself simply in the asking. He shook his head, hair falling over his shoulder. Again, Lan Wangji longed to touch it. “You’ll stay as long as I want you to, won’t you?”
This, Lan Zhan could answer. “Yes.” There was no other answer. Whatever Wei Ying wanted, Lan Wangji would give it. That had always been the way between them.
“And if I want to stay?” Wei Ying asked.
Lan Wangji shook his head, uncertain of what he was being asked, but of course… “Whatever you want, Wei Ying. Anything you want.”
Wei Ying drew in a shuddering breath, hiking up his robes. He pulled repeatedly at the ties holding his trousers closed, missing a time or two before he was finally able to push them down. Lan Wangji only caught a single glimpse of Wei Ying’s long, beautiful legs before his robes again obscured them.
By the time Wei Ying touched him, he was already leaking copious amounts of fluid. It flowed down his length, warm and tickling. Only a few strokes had him entirely slick with it and Wei Ying’s hand, too. “You’re this ready for me so soon, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked, knee walking his way forward until he was forcing Lan Wangji’s legs up higher, thighs braced against Wei Ying’s. His outer robes, texture slightly rough, rubbed against Lan Wangji, making him gasp at the unexpected sensation. His hand, covered in Lan Wangji’s fluid, found its way into Lan Wangji’s mouth. Laving each digit with equal attention, he chased the taste of himself on Wei Ying’s fingers.
If Wei Ying minded the way Lan Wangji was thrusting up against him, he didn’t say anything to make it stop.
Lan Wangji didn’t want it to stop.
From the way they were positioned, Lan Wangji expected Wei Ying to breach him with his spit-slicked fingers when they were wet enough, but Lan Wangji was proved wrong within seconds as Wei Ying reached behind himself, groaning in a way that Lan Wangji was intimately familiar with.
“You drive me crazy, Lan Zhan,” he said through each punched out sound he made. “Telling me to make a mess of you. What am I supposed to do with that? You can’t imagine all the naughty things I was imagining. I—ah, fuck, Lan Zhan—fuck, I wanted to ruin you.”
Lan Wangji screwed his eyes shut and when he opened them again, mere moments later or perhaps an eternity, Wei Ying was yanking off his robes, tearing through his belt and vambraces, throwing all of it aside. “Do you know how hard I’ve been? This whole time I… for days. I didn’t know how to make it good for you. I still don’t know.” Their gazes caught, entangled within one another. “You have to tell me, okay? If this isn’t…”
“I will.” But I won’t have to.
With only his undershirt and trousers still on, Lan Wangji could finally see very well how hard he was. The trousers he finally forced down his legs, kicking them off before seating himself on Lan Wangji’s lap, easily taking Lan Wangji into him until Lan Wangji was fully sheathed inside the tight warmth of his body. It took every ounce of Lan Wangji’s self-control to stop himself from tearing Wei Ying’s ribbon to shreds—he’d buy Wei Ying a new one; he’d buy him a hundred new ones—and flipping them over so he could push into that familiar warmth immediately.
He stayed the impulse, but he couldn’t stop himself from thrusting up, heels dug into the mattress, nearly dislodging Wei Ying.
“Ah! Lan Zhan! You’re supposed to—” He lowered his head and rocked his weight back once, slow, forcing sweet, syrupy pleasure to climb Lan Wangji’s spine. His bangs obscured his face, but his voice couldn’t hide the shyness or arousal in it. Even without touching himself or letting Lan Wangji touch him, Wei Ying was already red and fully erect. His length curved upward and bobbed with each little roll of his hips. His precome smeared his abdomen and dripped onto his thigh. “You’re supposed to let me. I was going to—should I have bound your legs, too?”
Though his heart raced and his lungs felt tight with how aroused he was, he managed to grind out a response. “No need.” His muscles, already aching, trembled with the effort to still. Anything for Wei Ying, he reminded himself. Finally, he succeeded. “I’ll be—”
“You’ll be?”
“Good,” he whispered, hoarse. “I can be good.”
Wei Ying let out a sound Lan Wangji had never heard before, something halfway between a keening wail and a sob. He brought one hand up to cover his face. “Fuck, Lan Zhan. How are you in charge all the time? How do you not—?!” Wei Ying lifted himself onto his knees and slowly lowered himself again. Even just that small amount of friction was nearly enough to undo Lan Wangji. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.”
Lan Wangji agreed. It was too much, but only in the best possible way. Watching Wei Ying ride him, body flushed pink, knowing he himself was at Wei Ying’s mercy and could only take what Wei Ying gave to him? He really did wish his legs were bound, too, that he truly couldn’t get out of this even if he wanted to.
Wei Ying should use him.
Lan Wangji wanted to be ruined.
He could see it in every particular, in all the ways Wei Ying might tie him up, shy about it the whole time, just as lost to it as Lan Wangji was.
“Wei Ying, you can,” he said. “Hold me down.”
“What?”
“Hold me down.”
Wei Ying sniffed, pushing the plastered strands of hair out of his face. He made an inquisitive noise and then seemed to figure out what Lan Wangji meant. Though he couldn’t gain much leverage like this, he reached back and braced his hands on Lan Wangji’s thighs. There would probably be bruises later, but Lan Wangji welcomed it.
With his hands occupied thus, Wei Ying couldn’t hide his face and he couldn’t touch himself either. Perfect.
“Lan er gege, so shameless,” Wei Ying said, brows furrowing as he closed his eyes and concentrated. “Who said you could tell me what to do like this?” Despite his words, he wasn’t taking guidance from Lan Wangji any longer. From this angle, he was able to ride Lan Wangji more easily, thighs flexing beautifully as he worked himself up and down Lan Wangji’s length.
Lan Wangji lost himself in the view and the pace Wei Ying set for them, so different from what Lan Wangji would have chosen, but just as exciting, maybe even more so if the way his body reacted was any indication.
“I should untie you and make you do all the work,” Wei Ying said, though he made no move to do any such thing. “Look at you, just taking it like this. So, ah, so lazy.” He slitted one eye open, mouth curling up in a delighted little smile. “Your hair is so tangled, Lan Zhan. Your cheeks are red. I don’t think I’ve seen that before.”
Everything else about him was a tangle, too, of arousal and love and need. He felt split open and beloved. It was no wonder it showed on his face in a new way. He’d never been exposed like this before.
Wei Ying’s fingers tightened in the meat of his thighs. “You’re such a mess.” He looked at Lan Zhan and then away again. His throat bobbed as he swallowed once, twice. Lan Wangji wondered what he must have looked like to make Wei Ying this bashful. “Who could have known this was what it would take? Ah, Hanguang jun, so debauched and unfairly beautiful. His husband is so lucky to have him this way.”
This husband of Wei Ying’s heart seized. Wei Ying wasn’t the only lucky one.
“How quickly can I make him come, do you think?” Wei Ying asked.
Lan Wangji’s muscles twitched beneath his hands. Surely that was answer enough. He’d been close from the start after all. It would not be long if Wei Ying stopped teasing.
Of course he stopped teasing.
He, too, lost the ability to talk as he gasped his way through every lift and fall of his body around Lan Wangji, like this, too, was overwhelming to him.
As Wei Ying worked him in earnest, his orgasm built within him. It became harder to remain still, nearly impossible, but it felt important to do. For himself and for Wei Ying, who seemed to be enjoying this beyond all reason, too, this ever so slight change in how they took care of one another.
Wei Ying clenched tightly around him, head thrown back, as he came. His release coated his thighs and even Lan Wangji’s hip in thick, unending pulses. He shouted loud enough that he bit his own lip, muffling the ragged noises he was making.
His own orgasm caught him by surprise, throwing him off the cliff of his passion. It was different than the climaxes he normally reached, pulled itself from somewhere even deeper within himself than usual.
Hot and messy and perfect, it knocked another cry from Wei Ying.
It was the sort of experience that left an indelible mark and it was entirely Wei Ying’s doing.
Wei Ying remained on top of him, but lowered himself onto Lan Wangji’s chest, breathing heavily. As Lan Wangji softened, he pulled free, making Wei Ying tremble and gasp one last time. Come dripped from Wei Ying’s body onto his own, still warm. His dick twitched at the thought of filling him up again.
Wei Ying buried his face against Lan Wangji’s neck as he reached up to tug the ribbon free. “Lan Zhan! How could you let me do that to you?”
Lan Wangji celebrated his freedom from Wei Ying’s ribbons by taking Wei Ying’s face between his palms, lifting his head until he could align their lips and kiss the embarrassment from his mouth. Everything that needed to be said was said as he curled his tongue behind Wei Ying’s teeth and bit Wei Ying’s lower lip and pulled the air from Wei Ying’s lungs one weak moan at a time. Still, when he pulled back, he asked, “How could I not?”
“That really—” He studied Lan Wangji’s face. This time, he was the one who pushed at Lan Wangji’s hair, no doubt trying to bring it back to some semblance of normalcy. His expression went softer with every sweep of his hand over the sweat-damp strands. “You like me taking what I want from you?”
Lan Wangji nodded.
“Did you like being tied up or…?”
Lan Wangji nodded again. “All of it.”
“Oh.” His gaze went distant. “We can do that. Whenever you want. Or—or whenever I want, I guess.” He beamed down at Lan Wangji and wrapped his arms around Lan Wangji’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “You really liked it?”
Lan Wangji dragged his fingers up Wei Ying’s spine and back down again. “Mn.” He might float on this sensation for hours, but he would allow himself a few minutes before he roused himself enough to clean up. It was the right thing to do.
“I’ll have to think of something even better to do next time,” Wei Ying said eventually, because he was an inveterate tinkerer who always wanted to improve, “now that I know what to expect.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, mildly scolding, if one could scold and be amused at the same time. “Rest.”
“No, I should—ah!” Wei Ying scrambled up and slapped Lan Wangji on the shoulder. “I know! I’ll run a bath for you.”
Before Lan Wangji could complain about how such a thing could wait, Wei Ying was already climbing out of bed, humming as he stepped into his trousers and tied them securely around his waist. Lan Wangji didn’t really have the heart or the energy to argue and Wei Ying seemed happy enough to putter about making one ready.
If Wei Ying was so keen, perhaps he could allow it. After all, Lan Wangji himself derived a great deal of pleasure doing the same for Wei Ying.
Though Wei Ying didn’t always tie him up, he did it frequently enough that he got very good at it. Despite this, he never quite got over how shy it made him to do so. In truth, Lan Wangji didn’t mind that fact in the slightest.