It wouldn't have brought scandal down on the Lan clan, or if it did, Lan Zhan didn't much care. But he was Chief Cultivator, and that was a big deal, and if the cultivation world was to accept Wei Ying as part of his life, there needed to be official recognition.
The gasp made him smirk, a little teasing lift of his lips hidden in Wei Ying's neck. He didn't lift his head until Wei Ying brought up the ribbon, which did draw his attention.
He studied his beloved, hair now falling around his face. "Which would you prefer?" he asked. "I will accept either."
There's a flush that graced Wei Ying's cheeks from how he had gasped Lan
Zhan's name. Was it a preview of nights to come? Or could he be shameless
and take up the Chief Cultivator's time in between meetings? Many a naughty
thought began to run through his mind. Lunch delights. Lan Zhan needing to
conduct a meeting with Wei Ying's own bite marks on him.
He considered it a moment before slipping the red ribbon through Lan Zhan's
dark locks until it could be tied around the hair tie that is already in
place. This way, the world could see flashes of it and know to whom Lan
Zhan belonged to.
Lan Zhan was a man of infinite patience. Waiting a few more weeks was nothing, considering the long wait to find Wei Ying again, even though it was maddening to not put his hands all over his beloved.
But once that was over, once they were officially married, Lan Zhan wouldn't want to keep his hands off. His duties were important, but they could find the time.
He lowered his head so Wei Ying could tie the ribbon around his head, then reached up to feel the ribbon, letting the ends of the ribbon trail through his fingers. "How does it look?"
It seemed strange to see the streak of read against Lan Zhan's pale
complexion. And yet it seemed...right. Wei Ying brushed his fingers along
the ribbon and smiled softly, dragging his tough along the length of it and
toward the ends.
"Like you belong to me. As I belong to you," he replied. "As you would say:
shameless."
A grin played on his lips as he made himself more comfortable in Lan Zhan's
lap.
"Shameless," he echoed, lips curled up in a smirk that he could easily hide in Wei Ying's neck once again. He tightened his grip on Wei Ying as the other man settled in his lap, careful to refrain from squeezing too hard.
"I do belong to you," he said, after a moment of quiet. "I will always be yours."
Wei Ying knew that he was already half hard in his robes from Lan Zhan
nuzzling at his neck and the sharp bite that truly sent the blood heading
between his legs. He had to stop himself from wanting to rock a little
against Lan Zhan in this position. He chuckled when he echoed his
sentiments instead.
"And I will always be yours, Lan Zhan," he said quietly.
The grip on his hips had him harden a little bit more and Wei Ying tried to
recite some of the Lan rules in his head to calm down his blood from
getting too hot.
The robes left little to the imagination, at least when Wei Ying was in his lap, pressed against him. Feeling his betrothed harden against him sparked an answering lust in Lan Zhan, blood pooling between his legs, making him grow hard.
There were easily a hundred rules he could recite to cool his blood and not stir his passions. And a hundred more rules on why he should do exactly that. They all fled when Wei Ying promised to be his. A soft sound, half-moan and half-growl, escaped him, and he twisted, lowering Wei Ying to the floor, settling between his legs.
"I wanted to wait," he whispered, staring down at his beloved. "Show you the respect you deserve. But I can't."
He gasped and held on as Lan Zhan moved them, lowering him to the floor.
There was the whispered promise of wanting to wait but surely...Wei Ying
reaches up and brushes his fingers along Lan Zhan's cheek and sharp jawline.
"Haven't we waited long enough? Lan Zhan. I've waited two lifetimes.
Certainly, that would provide an exception to the rules," he partially
moaned. "And you still respect me. You love me, do you not?"
It's daring of him to accuse Lan Zhan of this but was it hardly an
accusation? They knew that they loved each other. What was the point of
propriety?
"Ridiculous question. Of course, I love you, and will respect you no matter what." Nothing would change that, especially considering everything they had been through.
He turned his head into Wei Ying's hand, pressing a kiss to his fingers before leaning down to capture Wei Ying's lips in a firm kiss, open-mouthed and heavy right from the start.
Wei Ying arched up and met his kiss hungrily. He moaned and let his tongue slip into Lan Zhan's mouth, tasting him desperately, and pulling him down against him. He wanted more of Lan Zhan against him, wanted the feel of his beloved, more of his beloved.
He busied his hands with the belt around Lan Zhan's waist, trying to get rid of it and undo it. When he pulled back for air, he gasped.
Why did he want to wait? At the moment, he couldn't remember; Wei Ying's fingers at his belt were distracting, not to mention the expanse of collarbone and chest that Lan Zhan revealed as he slid his hands beneath the neck of Wei Ying's robes.
"Wanted to show the world." He punctuated his words with hasty kisses, hands sliding lower so he could deftly untie Wei Ying's belt. "You are worthy of proper respect. Beloved and cherished."
He did have to pull back after that, so he could spread open the robes covering his beloved, finally baring Wei Ying to his eyes.
The neck of his own robes gave way, loosening and allowing more of him to be revealed to Lan Zhan. He tried to keep up with his kisses, pulling the belt away from Lan Zhan and tossing it aside.
"I don't care if the world sees that. I care if you see that," he breathed.
Lucky for Lan Zhan, Wei Ying had been wearing his under robes to relax in this evening. He felt the fabric give way under Lan Zhan's steady hands and leaned back against the floor, spreading himself out for Lan Zhan, shameless.
With the belt gone, his robes are a little looser, the ties the only thing keeping them together, and the sheer number of layers keeping him presentable. He's much too focused on Wei Ying to care about his robes at the moment, mouthing at his neck.
"Wei Ying," he whispered, voice deep, filled with desire, lifting up so he could look down at his lover. "Want you to feel good."
With the under robes pulled aside, leaving Wei Ying bare beneath his hands and his eyes, Lan Zhan lean down again, trailing his lips down the warm skin of his chest, stopping only when he reached a nipple, lavishing it with his tongue before nipping at it, trying to pull as many sounds as possible out of his betrothed.
How his name rolled off of Lan Zhan's tongue has Wei Ying's toes practically curl in pleasure. How was it that the man could communicate so much with just his name? He bit his lip to keep from moaning too loudly and didn't bother to hide his arousal.
He was panting softly by the time Lan Zhan's heated gaze. His lips sent shivers along Wei Ying's spine, cool against his own heated skin. He couldn't stop the gasp that escaped his lips when he felt Lan Zhan's attention on a sensitive nipple.
He whimpered, trying to keep quiet in the Jingshi by biting down on his lips. He reaches up and tangles his fingers in his dark hair, archive up to the bites and lashing.
Possessiveness was strongly discouraged by the rules of his clan, and for the most part, Lan Zhan never had a need to possess anything. His needs were taken care of, and he did not want for material possessions. But Wei Ying was a different story; he wanted everything that Wei Ying was offering, wanted to hear every little sound, feel every little movement.
Lavishing the nipple with his tongue to soothe the sting of the bite, he dragged his hands down Wei Ying's sides, palming his hips. "You do not need to keep quiet," he whispered, moving his mouth to focus on the other nipple, treating it to the same torture: lips curling around it, teeth biting down and tongue soothing the sting.
His hardness had curved up and lay drooling against his belly, growing more
and more hard at each touch and whisper against him. Wei Ying cried out and
arched against him again, pushing up against the strong hands, when he felt
another sting of a bite on his nipple. The sensitive skin peaked at Lan
Zhan's attentions, yearning for more and to be soothed by that tongue.
"Lan Zhan!"
He wondered, dazedly, if he would be able to shout loud enough for anyone
to hear him beyond the Jingshi, down to Caiyi Town. Fire spread through his
body and ignited his blood. Why did Lan Zhan want to wait?! Why did he
wait?! Why did he not tease Lan Zhan into this when they were teenagers?!
He gasped and arched against the firm hold again and again.
Lan Zhan drank in pants and gasps, the words soothing the old, aching wound in his chest where Wei Wuxian's death and disappearance still stung. He relished them, longed to draw out more.
He settled between Wei Ying's legs, his mouth now trailing down that slim chest and pale skin, kissing and biting and licking at random spots, taking care to soothe the few faint scars he found.
"Mm." Nothing more than a simple sound in response to Wei Ying's words, but it carried an acknowledgment and a response. He was just as much Wei Ying's.
He wouldn't have done this when they were younger, but part of him does regret never getting the chance, especially as his lips draw closer to his groin. He's never done this with anyone, rarely even touched himself, but he can't resist the urge and wraps his hand around Wei Ying's length, feeling the heat of his arousal.
Each bite seared into him and Wei Ying couldn't help himself from filling
the Jinshi with his moans. He tried to prop himself up, see what Lan Zhan
was doing. His eyes widened as he got closer and closer to his hardness.
There was fooling around but how far would Lan Zhan be willing to--
"Lan Zhan!" he cried out.
The cool touch around the heat of his arousal had him shouting toward the
heavens and he balled his hands into fists to keep from spending too
quickly. His hand was a balm against his hardness and he wondered if Lan
Zhan ever experimented. There were nights when he himself had explored his
body a little, letting his hands wander in the darkness under the blankets.
He had explored his own body a few times, perfunctory when nothing had been able to relieve the ache of arousal (usually caused by Wei Ying, when they'd been younger, and later, his memory). Once, he had let his mind wander, but that had been dangerous, exposing his heart and desires. He had stopped after that.
But he knew something of how to do this, keeping his grip gentle, his speed slow at first, teasing the tip with his thumb. It's impossible to look at both Wei Ying's face and his hands, so he settles for watching the play of emotions on his face, drinking in every sound Wei Ying makes.
The slow pace was a mercy. Any quicker and Wei Ying knew he would spend too
soon. His eyes fluttered shut and he laid back out on the floor, not able
to hold himself up anymore. His legs spread a little, letting Lan Zhan sit
more comfortably as he went about his task. Lan Zhan's name fell from his
lips like a prayer as he rocked his hips up into the fist, precome making
the pull that much easier for him.
He opened his eyes and looked at Lan Zhan, panting harder than he was a
moment ago.
"Is this what you want to see, Lan Zhan?" he teased. He pushed himself up
and reached to slide his hand along Lan Zhan's collar. "What if I want to
touch you too? Will you let me?"
He tightened his grip slightly, gathering that leaking precome to slick his hand, only speeding up once Wei Ying was rocking his hips up, once he was sure it was enjoyable. He still didn't go too fast, wanting to savor every moment of this, their first encounter.
"You can always touch me, Wei Ying." There was never a moment when he didn't want Wei Ying's hands on him, and he wouldn't deny his beloved a chance to touch now.
He made quick work of the ties of Lan Zhan's robes, wanting to get his
hands on him as well. Wei Ying was no expert yet he let his hands roam
along Lan Zhan's body, learning it as much as he can. He brushed his
fingers over his nipples, wanting to see if Lan Zhan was also sensitive to
it. His fingers danced lightly over the scars that Lan Zhan had sustained
over the years.
He takes care to slip his robes off his shoulders, although it means he has to let go of Wei Ying for a moment, but soon enough he's free of those robes. No one else had ever touched him with such reverence, or such desire, and the feeling of Wei Ying's hands against his chest made him draw in a sharp breath, a bitten-off moan escaping him as those gorgeous fingers brushed his nipples.
"Wei Ying," he said, voice rendered rough with desire. He didn't even pay attention to the fingers on his scars, unconcerned with the reasons for them. Even the ones on his back he did not think deeply on and did not associate their presence with Wei Ying.
He drank in the sight of Lan Zhan. He had been lucky; between the two of them, he'd seen Lan Zhan without his clothes more often than Lan Zhan had seen him without his clothes. All those surprise visits to the Cold Springs paid off as Wei Ying continued his explorations, touching what he only saw before.
He glanced up at Lan Zhan's face as he reached and circled his fingers around Lan Zhan's own hardness. This was certainly not cool to the touch like the rest of his intended. It felt hot, hard, in his hand. Wei Ying grinned up at him, soaking in the desire from Lan Zhan. Then, he began to stroke, curling his fingers and giving as much pressure as he was getting, wanting Lan Zhan to feel pleasure as well.
Lan Zhan controls his body to an unrivaled degree; he walks with grace and precision, his swordwork is elegant, cultivation pristine. It's an envied skill and he finds it useful, controlling his reflexes and movements.
The touch of Wei Ying's hand around his length shatters all of that. He bucks his hips, drawing in a ragged breath, a small groan escaping his lips as he shudders atop Wei Ying. It's only the years of training that keep him from falling apart at his hands and ending this moment too soon. He has to pause in his stroking for a moment to gather his wits and remember that moment of control, but soon enough he's back to moving his hand over Wei Ying's hardness. His hand is a little faster now, his breathing slightly ragged, a sheen of sweat at his temple.
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The gasp made him smirk, a little teasing lift of his lips hidden in Wei Ying's neck. He didn't lift his head until Wei Ying brought up the ribbon, which did draw his attention.
He studied his beloved, hair now falling around his face. "Which would you prefer?" he asked. "I will accept either."
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There's a flush that graced Wei Ying's cheeks from how he had gasped Lan Zhan's name. Was it a preview of nights to come? Or could he be shameless and take up the Chief Cultivator's time in between meetings? Many a naughty thought began to run through his mind. Lunch delights. Lan Zhan needing to conduct a meeting with Wei Ying's own bite marks on him.
He considered it a moment before slipping the red ribbon through Lan Zhan's dark locks until it could be tied around the hair tie that is already in place. This way, the world could see flashes of it and know to whom Lan Zhan belonged to.
"There."
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But once that was over, once they were officially married, Lan Zhan wouldn't want to keep his hands off. His duties were important, but they could find the time.
He lowered his head so Wei Ying could tie the ribbon around his head, then reached up to feel the ribbon, letting the ends of the ribbon trail through his fingers. "How does it look?"
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It seemed strange to see the streak of read against Lan Zhan's pale complexion. And yet it seemed...right. Wei Ying brushed his fingers along the ribbon and smiled softly, dragging his tough along the length of it and toward the ends.
"Like you belong to me. As I belong to you," he replied. "As you would say: shameless."
A grin played on his lips as he made himself more comfortable in Lan Zhan's lap.
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"I do belong to you," he said, after a moment of quiet. "I will always be yours."
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Wei Ying knew that he was already half hard in his robes from Lan Zhan nuzzling at his neck and the sharp bite that truly sent the blood heading between his legs. He had to stop himself from wanting to rock a little against Lan Zhan in this position. He chuckled when he echoed his sentiments instead.
"And I will always be yours, Lan Zhan," he said quietly.
The grip on his hips had him harden a little bit more and Wei Ying tried to recite some of the Lan rules in his head to calm down his blood from getting too hot.
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There were easily a hundred rules he could recite to cool his blood and not stir his passions. And a hundred more rules on why he should do exactly that. They all fled when Wei Ying promised to be his. A soft sound, half-moan and half-growl, escaped him, and he twisted, lowering Wei Ying to the floor, settling between his legs.
"I wanted to wait," he whispered, staring down at his beloved. "Show you the respect you deserve. But I can't."
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He gasped and held on as Lan Zhan moved them, lowering him to the floor. There was the whispered promise of wanting to wait but surely...Wei Ying reaches up and brushes his fingers along Lan Zhan's cheek and sharp jawline.
"Haven't we waited long enough? Lan Zhan. I've waited two lifetimes. Certainly, that would provide an exception to the rules," he partially moaned. "And you still respect me. You love me, do you not?"
It's daring of him to accuse Lan Zhan of this but was it hardly an accusation? They knew that they loved each other. What was the point of propriety?
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He turned his head into Wei Ying's hand, pressing a kiss to his fingers before leaning down to capture Wei Ying's lips in a firm kiss, open-mouthed and heavy right from the start.
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He busied his hands with the belt around Lan Zhan's waist, trying to get rid of it and undo it. When he pulled back for air, he gasped.
"Why would you want to wait, Lan Zhan?"
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"Wanted to show the world." He punctuated his words with hasty kisses, hands sliding lower so he could deftly untie Wei Ying's belt. "You are worthy of proper respect. Beloved and cherished."
He did have to pull back after that, so he could spread open the robes covering his beloved, finally baring Wei Ying to his eyes.
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"I don't care if the world sees that. I care if you see that," he breathed.
Lucky for Lan Zhan, Wei Ying had been wearing his under robes to relax in this evening. He felt the fabric give way under Lan Zhan's steady hands and leaned back against the floor, spreading himself out for Lan Zhan, shameless.
"Lan Zhan..."
He drawled out the man's name.
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"Wei Ying," he whispered, voice deep, filled with desire, lifting up so he could look down at his lover. "Want you to feel good."
With the under robes pulled aside, leaving Wei Ying bare beneath his hands and his eyes, Lan Zhan lean down again, trailing his lips down the warm skin of his chest, stopping only when he reached a nipple, lavishing it with his tongue before nipping at it, trying to pull as many sounds as possible out of his betrothed.
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He was panting softly by the time Lan Zhan's heated gaze. His lips sent shivers along Wei Ying's spine, cool against his own heated skin. He couldn't stop the gasp that escaped his lips when he felt Lan Zhan's attention on a sensitive nipple.
He whimpered, trying to keep quiet in the Jingshi by biting down on his lips. He reaches up and tangles his fingers in his dark hair, archive up to the bites and lashing.
"L-Lan Zhan," he gasped.
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Lavishing the nipple with his tongue to soothe the sting of the bite, he dragged his hands down Wei Ying's sides, palming his hips. "You do not need to keep quiet," he whispered, moving his mouth to focus on the other nipple, treating it to the same torture: lips curling around it, teeth biting down and tongue soothing the sting.
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His hardness had curved up and lay drooling against his belly, growing more and more hard at each touch and whisper against him. Wei Ying cried out and arched against him again, pushing up against the strong hands, when he felt another sting of a bite on his nipple. The sensitive skin peaked at Lan Zhan's attentions, yearning for more and to be soothed by that tongue.
"Lan Zhan!"
He wondered, dazedly, if he would be able to shout loud enough for anyone to hear him beyond the Jingshi, down to Caiyi Town. Fire spread through his body and ignited his blood. Why did Lan Zhan want to wait?! Why did he wait?! Why did he not tease Lan Zhan into this when they were teenagers?! He gasped and arched against the firm hold again and again.
"I'm yours, Lan Zhan. Yours."
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He settled between Wei Ying's legs, his mouth now trailing down that slim chest and pale skin, kissing and biting and licking at random spots, taking care to soothe the few faint scars he found.
"Mm." Nothing more than a simple sound in response to Wei Ying's words, but it carried an acknowledgment and a response. He was just as much Wei Ying's.
He wouldn't have done this when they were younger, but part of him does regret never getting the chance, especially as his lips draw closer to his groin. He's never done this with anyone, rarely even touched himself, but he can't resist the urge and wraps his hand around Wei Ying's length, feeling the heat of his arousal.
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Each bite seared into him and Wei Ying couldn't help himself from filling the Jinshi with his moans. He tried to prop himself up, see what Lan Zhan was doing. His eyes widened as he got closer and closer to his hardness. There was fooling around but how far would Lan Zhan be willing to--
"Lan Zhan!" he cried out.
The cool touch around the heat of his arousal had him shouting toward the heavens and he balled his hands into fists to keep from spending too quickly. His hand was a balm against his hardness and he wondered if Lan Zhan ever experimented. There were nights when he himself had explored his body a little, letting his hands wander in the darkness under the blankets.
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But he knew something of how to do this, keeping his grip gentle, his speed slow at first, teasing the tip with his thumb. It's impossible to look at both Wei Ying's face and his hands, so he settles for watching the play of emotions on his face, drinking in every sound Wei Ying makes.
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The slow pace was a mercy. Any quicker and Wei Ying knew he would spend too soon. His eyes fluttered shut and he laid back out on the floor, not able to hold himself up anymore. His legs spread a little, letting Lan Zhan sit more comfortably as he went about his task. Lan Zhan's name fell from his lips like a prayer as he rocked his hips up into the fist, precome making the pull that much easier for him.
He opened his eyes and looked at Lan Zhan, panting harder than he was a moment ago.
"Is this what you want to see, Lan Zhan?" he teased. He pushed himself up and reached to slide his hand along Lan Zhan's collar. "What if I want to touch you too? Will you let me?"
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"You can always touch me, Wei Ying." There was never a moment when he didn't want Wei Ying's hands on him, and he wouldn't deny his beloved a chance to touch now.
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He made quick work of the ties of Lan Zhan's robes, wanting to get his hands on him as well. Wei Ying was no expert yet he let his hands roam along Lan Zhan's body, learning it as much as he can. He brushed his fingers over his nipples, wanting to see if Lan Zhan was also sensitive to it. His fingers danced lightly over the scars that Lan Zhan had sustained over the years.
Because of him.
"Lan Zhan..."
He shook the thought from his head.
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"Wei Ying," he said, voice rendered rough with desire. He didn't even pay attention to the fingers on his scars, unconcerned with the reasons for them. Even the ones on his back he did not think deeply on and did not associate their presence with Wei Ying.
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He glanced up at Lan Zhan's face as he reached and circled his fingers around Lan Zhan's own hardness. This was certainly not cool to the touch like the rest of his intended. It felt hot, hard, in his hand. Wei Ying grinned up at him, soaking in the desire from Lan Zhan. Then, he began to stroke, curling his fingers and giving as much pressure as he was getting, wanting Lan Zhan to feel pleasure as well.
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The touch of Wei Ying's hand around his length shatters all of that. He bucks his hips, drawing in a ragged breath, a small groan escaping his lips as he shudders atop Wei Ying. It's only the years of training that keep him from falling apart at his hands and ending this moment too soon. He has to pause in his stroking for a moment to gather his wits and remember that moment of control, but soon enough he's back to moving his hand over Wei Ying's hardness. His hand is a little faster now, his breathing slightly ragged, a sheen of sweat at his temple.
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