He's always been attracted to Wei Wuxian's brazenness, among other things. To Wei Wuxian's ease saying things that set him aflame from the inside; to Wei Wuxian's wicked ability to come up with ways for them to explore new things and to get under his skin all at once. His face and voice don't show the heat, calm and smooth as always, but his throat does work as he swallows, and his eyes are bright and hot as they meet Wei Wuxian's gaze.
"Very well."
It's a pang to leave their embrace, but he follows the cues easily, taking the steps back, giving enough room for Wei Wuxian to look him over head-to-toe as he wishes, enough room to do the same and see what being in charge does for his husband. He pauses at the bed's edge, not sitting yet without instruction, but he does lift his own hands to the fastenings of his sash, ready to loosen it upon command.
It's a lovely picture: the Second Jade of Lan at rest in his own home, casually poised on the edge of movement, his attention wholly on the other occupant of the room. Someone looking in uninformed might think he was just readying himself for bed at a strange unLanlike hour of the day, if not for the high flush in his ears.
Wei Wuxian doesn't quite have everything planned out already, but knows, inevitably, this will be a great challenge and test of his own patience. (More so much sooner than latter, opposed to 'eventually,' but at the very least he can try.) The idea isn't new by any means; directing Lan Wangji what to do and how to move, knowing his husband will comply, is such a fantasy.
He allows himself several drawn moments for his gaze linger along the length of Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian is ever appreciative of his presence and the whole of him, and shamelessly so when knowing that what lies beneath the layers of cloth will only ever be for him to see and touch and have for himself. The burning red of Lan Wangji's ears is always a sight against his pale, clear skin, compared only to the current look in his eyes.
Wei Wuxian moves to sit in the chair near the bed, sure to maintain any space. One more look-over before he'll speak again.
"You can move, Lan Zhan." A slow, delighted smile. "Strip for me. Don't rush, but don't take your time, either." No being so meticulous, no careful folds or articles being perfectly aligned on top of the other. "Keep your eyes on mine, don't look away."
This isn't simply getting undressed in front of the other.
[ No worries! ♥ ;; I hope you've been feeling better. ]
His lashes actually flutter for a moment, nearly breaking Wei Wuxian's last command in a bout of...not shyness, exactly, but unfamiliarity with the situation, wonder at it. He keeps eye contact with him in the end, though, marking his easy repose. From there it's simple: he breathes, and lets his hands move in their familiar patterns.
The outer robe slips free first, and easiest, falling to his elbows before he lets it flow off his arms. His sashes must be undone, one after the other, his many collars parted, the white and shining raiment of Hanguang-Jun peeled away piece by piece in a quiet whisper of silk, pooling around him on the floor of their shared rooms.
The greatest struggle is only in letting the clothing slide to the ground instead of folding it neatly layer-by-layer out of lifetime habit. Shame doesn't factor into it -- he doesn't feel shame anymore, around Wei Wuxian, in doing something that brings Wei Wuxian pleasure. It's no hardship to bare himself for his eyes: everything of him is his husband's, after all. The skin and the scars, the pleasure and pain, the aches and the memories. No debts between them, even in this.
It's far too much to ask for Wei Wuxian to not let his gaze slowly linger along the sight of his husband's figure. Wei Wuxian isn't so disciplined enough to promptly move right along without at least visually admiring all of what is his. It's only that further doing so with his hands, mouth and every last part of him will need to be patient.
(Whether or not this will even last has yet to be seen. Savoring, knowing that no matter the point, this will have a most satisfying conclusion.)
Catching Lan Wangji's eyes once more, he gestures to the bed. "Get comfortable." He'll wait for Lan Wangji to situate himself before speaking again.
"Mmm. . . I know I've always been on your mind for a long, many years by now, so I'm certain that includes the two of us together. But I wonder, how good is Lan Zhan's imagination? You once told me that you felt wrong in kissing me so passionately that day, however that was a lifetime ago. . .even for you, in many ways.
Lan Zhan is so much dirtier than I could've imagined. . .But I want to hear more. Give me your fantasies, Lan Zhan, and all that stirs within you when you're thinking of me."
Of the things he'd do with Wei Wuxian at his mercy, shivering and gasping beneath his touch; of the ways Lan Wangji would be relentless in driving them to exhaustion. How he has such desires for Wei Wuxian to do the same.
Lying is forbidden, but Lan Wangji also shouldn't be excessively sparse with any details.
This request does give Lan Wangji pause: he's never been very good at expressing himself in words, even now. Actions to be marked, yes, but simply telling Wei Wuxian his fantasies, conveying the depth of them, how much he wants...this hasn't ever come easy to him. Most of what he wants to say he doesn't have the words for, in the end. If he had, if he'd had the capacity and the courage to tell Wei Wuxian years ago, pour sincere adoring filth in his ear, maybe things would have gone easier for them. Or maybe not -- they'll never know, and he wouldn't give up what he has now to find out, in any case.
Still, he'll try. For Wei Wuxian, always, he'll try.
He does start with doing, though: he stretches luxuriant on their shared bed, displaying himself even more shamelessly for Wei Wuxian, all pale bared skin interrupted on his front only by the Wen brand, by a sparse few other scars Wei Wuxian is intimately familiar with. The map of damage on his back is hidden. The drawn-up line of his thigh doesn't quite hide his cock, curved and flushed against his belly. He runs a hand down his own chest and stomach towards it, slow, eyes on Wei Wuxian the whole time as he gathers his thoughts.
"...It no longer feels wrong, to kiss Wei Ying," he starts, taking the prompt his husband's given him gratefully. "Now, he is aware of me. He has made his wishes known."
His hand's loose around his cock, stroking easily as it fills out further under his touch, and he shivers with pleasure.
"Would have him every day. At any time, any place. Would claim him in front of others. Make him beg."
Ah, but Wei Wuxian had wanted to know about the other way around, too, hadn't he? That's why they're here, in the middle of the day.
"Or, submit to him as well. Kissed until I cannot breathe. Restrained by him, held open, to be satisfied by his touch alone. Teased. Limits tested."
He has to pause there, swallowing hard. This is harder than he thought it would be; limits tested, indeed. But it's enough for Wei Wuxian to pick up and spin out, hopefully...Lan Wangji does a little better with call-and-response than with simple confession to his listening ear.
Admittedly, Wei Wuxian hadn't quite been sure of what he should've expected when giving such directions, but certainly it wasn't something like this. Not even for as well as he knows not to underestimate Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian knows his husband inherently well, intimately so, yet even for as passionate as Lan Wangji is, Wei Wuxian couldn't have entirely anticipated so much, so soon.
Wei Wuxian might have aimed to follow his own plan of telling Lan Wangji what to do, but for the moment, he can't help but continue along this path they've set out on.
Still, he watches. A deep, heated flush spreads high on his cheeks. Try as he might, against his own word, Wei Wuxian is finding it difficult to keep his eyes from wandering from Lan Wangji's gaze.
"In public, huh?" Wei Wuxian's heart pounds at the idea, the image. "With how deep and hard you like to fuck me, even people from afar would easily be able to tell. The juniors would especially be scandalized." Lan Wangji would really go so far, would he? Not that Wei Wuxian doubts his claims for even a moment.
However, he isn't oblivious to the fact that his husband is pushing himself. With his words, particularly, but also with his actions. What dangerous words they are.
"How would it feel for me to bind your wrists with your own ribbon, Lan Zhan?" A desire Wei Wuxian may have already thought of on multiple occasions. "I'd keep you on the edge, again and again. You won't be allowed to cum until I can hear you beg for me."
Continuing, Wei Wuxian shivers. His grip curls against the armrests of his chair.
". . .Spread your legs wider. Keep touching and stroking yourself, imagining me doing so with my hands and mouth. Let me see more."
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"Very well."
It's a pang to leave their embrace, but he follows the cues easily, taking the steps back, giving enough room for Wei Wuxian to look him over head-to-toe as he wishes, enough room to do the same and see what being in charge does for his husband. He pauses at the bed's edge, not sitting yet without instruction, but he does lift his own hands to the fastenings of his sash, ready to loosen it upon command.
It's a lovely picture: the Second Jade of Lan at rest in his own home, casually poised on the edge of movement, his attention wholly on the other occupant of the room. Someone looking in uninformed might think he was just readying himself for bed at a strange unLanlike hour of the day, if not for the high flush in his ears.
((apologies for the wait! i got very sick :())
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He allows himself several drawn moments for his gaze linger along the length of Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian is ever appreciative of his presence and the whole of him, and shamelessly so when knowing that what lies beneath the layers of cloth will only ever be for him to see and touch and have for himself. The burning red of Lan Wangji's ears is always a sight against his pale, clear skin, compared only to the current look in his eyes.
Wei Wuxian moves to sit in the chair near the bed, sure to maintain any space. One more look-over before he'll speak again.
"You can move, Lan Zhan." A slow, delighted smile. "Strip for me. Don't rush, but don't take your time, either." No being so meticulous, no careful folds or articles being perfectly aligned on top of the other. "Keep your eyes on mine, don't look away."
This isn't simply getting undressed in front of the other.
[ No worries! ♥ ;; I hope you've been feeling better. ]
no subject
His lashes actually flutter for a moment, nearly breaking Wei Wuxian's last command in a bout of...not shyness, exactly, but unfamiliarity with the situation, wonder at it. He keeps eye contact with him in the end, though, marking his easy repose. From there it's simple: he breathes, and lets his hands move in their familiar patterns.
The outer robe slips free first, and easiest, falling to his elbows before he lets it flow off his arms. His sashes must be undone, one after the other, his many collars parted, the white and shining raiment of Hanguang-Jun peeled away piece by piece in a quiet whisper of silk, pooling around him on the floor of their shared rooms.
The greatest struggle is only in letting the clothing slide to the ground instead of folding it neatly layer-by-layer out of lifetime habit. Shame doesn't factor into it -- he doesn't feel shame anymore, around Wei Wuxian, in doing something that brings Wei Wuxian pleasure. It's no hardship to bare himself for his eyes: everything of him is his husband's, after all. The skin and the scars, the pleasure and pain, the aches and the memories. No debts between them, even in this.
no subject
(Whether or not this will even last has yet to be seen. Savoring, knowing that no matter the point, this will have a most satisfying conclusion.)
Catching Lan Wangji's eyes once more, he gestures to the bed. "Get comfortable." He'll wait for Lan Wangji to situate himself before speaking again.
"Mmm. . . I know I've always been on your mind for a long, many years by now, so I'm certain that includes the two of us together. But I wonder, how good is Lan Zhan's imagination? You once told me that you felt wrong in kissing me so passionately that day, however that was a lifetime ago. . .even for you, in many ways.
Lan Zhan is so much dirtier than I could've imagined. . .But I want to hear more. Give me your fantasies, Lan Zhan, and all that stirs within you when you're thinking of me."
Of the things he'd do with Wei Wuxian at his mercy, shivering and gasping beneath his touch; of the ways Lan Wangji would be relentless in driving them to exhaustion. How he has such desires for Wei Wuxian to do the same.
Lying is forbidden, but Lan Wangji also shouldn't be excessively sparse with any details.
no subject
Still, he'll try. For Wei Wuxian, always, he'll try.
He does start with doing, though: he stretches luxuriant on their shared bed, displaying himself even more shamelessly for Wei Wuxian, all pale bared skin interrupted on his front only by the Wen brand, by a sparse few other scars Wei Wuxian is intimately familiar with. The map of damage on his back is hidden. The drawn-up line of his thigh doesn't quite hide his cock, curved and flushed against his belly. He runs a hand down his own chest and stomach towards it, slow, eyes on Wei Wuxian the whole time as he gathers his thoughts.
"...It no longer feels wrong, to kiss Wei Ying," he starts, taking the prompt his husband's given him gratefully. "Now, he is aware of me. He has made his wishes known."
His hand's loose around his cock, stroking easily as it fills out further under his touch, and he shivers with pleasure.
"Would have him every day. At any time, any place. Would claim him in front of others. Make him beg."
Ah, but Wei Wuxian had wanted to know about the other way around, too, hadn't he? That's why they're here, in the middle of the day.
"Or, submit to him as well. Kissed until I cannot breathe. Restrained by him, held open, to be satisfied by his touch alone. Teased. Limits tested."
He has to pause there, swallowing hard. This is harder than he thought it would be; limits tested, indeed. But it's enough for Wei Wuxian to pick up and spin out, hopefully...Lan Wangji does a little better with call-and-response than with simple confession to his listening ear.
no subject
Unfair.
Admittedly, Wei Wuxian hadn't quite been sure of what he should've expected when giving such directions, but certainly it wasn't something like this. Not even for as well as he knows not to underestimate Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian knows his husband inherently well, intimately so, yet even for as passionate as Lan Wangji is, Wei Wuxian couldn't have entirely anticipated so much, so soon.
Wei Wuxian might have aimed to follow his own plan of telling Lan Wangji what to do, but for the moment, he can't help but continue along this path they've set out on.
Still, he watches. A deep, heated flush spreads high on his cheeks. Try as he might, against his own word, Wei Wuxian is finding it difficult to keep his eyes from wandering from Lan Wangji's gaze.
"In public, huh?" Wei Wuxian's heart pounds at the idea, the image. "With how deep and hard you like to fuck me, even people from afar would easily be able to tell. The juniors would especially be scandalized." Lan Wangji would really go so far, would he? Not that Wei Wuxian doubts his claims for even a moment.
However, he isn't oblivious to the fact that his husband is pushing himself. With his words, particularly, but also with his actions. What dangerous words they are.
"How would it feel for me to bind your wrists with your own ribbon, Lan Zhan?" A desire Wei Wuxian may have already thought of on multiple occasions. "I'd keep you on the edge, again and again. You won't be allowed to cum until I can hear you beg for me."
Continuing, Wei Wuxian shivers. His grip curls against the armrests of his chair.
". . .Spread your legs wider. Keep touching and stroking yourself, imagining me doing so with my hands and mouth. Let me see more."