Atlas

What Lan XiChen doesn't know is that Lan WangJi's desperation doesn't stop at playing Inquiry every day. As soon as his back is healed enough for him to leave the Cloud Recesses, he packs a bag and leaves. He's always gone where the trouble is; before, it was because he felt it was his duty. Now it's just because trouble means ghosts means maybe someone who'll have news of Wei WuXian. He starts eating downstairs when he stays the night at an inn, alone in a corner where he can hear all the conversations around him. He investigates every haunting he hears about, sits down with WangJi and asks the ghosts questions. Did you know him? Have you heard anything?

no, Wangji sings. no, no, i'm sorry.

Months pass like this. Finally the particularly-corporeal ghost of an archivist whose grave was disturbed looks at him with her chin in her hand and asks, "Why don't you ask the gods about it? One of them might know."

He blinks at her. He hadn't really considered the divine; he's prayed for Wei WuXian, of course he has, but it never occurred to him that perhaps he could ask for help. (It rarely occurs to him to ask for help.) He thanks the ghost for her advice and lays her to rest, and then he heads to the nearest temple. It's some local martial god, no one Lan WangJi's particularly heard of, but he lights incense and kneels before the statue anyway. He offers his respects like normal, and then he pauses. He isn't sure how to phrase what he wants. He realizes abruptly that so much of how he was taught to interact with gods is based in making demands, not asking questions. He settles on, "Please bless my efforts to find my friend," and leaves it at that.

That's the first time. He goes to more temples in the next month than he thinks he's visited in his entire life previously; in the months and years that follow, he realizes that there are literally hundreds of gods he's never, ever heard of, gods for regions he's never visited and activities he's never considered. None of them ever seem to respond to his prayers, but he keeps praying anyway, just in case. It's calming; and anyway it's interesting to see all the different gods and goddesses. He would have liked to have Wei WuXian's take on some of them. He loved — loves — everything about Wei WuXian, but visiting the temples makes him miss his friend's irreverent curiosity with a ferocity that makes his chest feel like it's caving in.

Four years after the siege at the Burial Mounds, Lan WangJi comes across a temple that he thinks would really have interested Wei WuXian. It's relatively small, all red imitation lacquer with black and silver detailing, and the god statue on the altar is strange and menacing in a way that Lan WangJi thinks would appeal to Wei WuXian. A sign outside informs Lan WangJi that the name of the god in question is Hua Cheng, a name that Lan WangJi has heard in passing but never investigated, and it's not really clear what he's the god of. The name is gentle, but the imagery in the temple is so violent that Lan WangJi thinks it must be something terrible, war or victory or whatever. Lan WangJi places an orange on the altar, lights incense, and kneels anyway. It's easy, now, to introduce himself and offer his thanks, and then to cut right to the chase: "I'm looking for news of my friend Wei WuXian. Please forgive my impertinence at asking after a dead man, and bless my efforts to find him."

"What, your friend is a ghost?" asks a voice behind him. Lan WangJi doesn't flinch, but it's a near thing; he'd been certain that he was alone in the temple.

He stays bowed, not wanting to rise before the incense is burned, but he answers, "No. I don't think so."

The stranger walks lazily to his side and squats in front of the altar to look at him. Lan WangJi doesn't mind the disrespect towards himself, but it's awfully bold to be so rude to a god in the god's own temple. "So then why should there be news of him?" the stranger asks.

"I don't think there will be," Lan WangJi says, not wanting this conversation to continue.

"Wei WuXian, huh?" the stranger insists. "That's that Yiling Patriarch, right? Heard a lot about him for a couple years. Lots of prayers from little cultivators like you, wishing for his death."

Lan WangJi stares hard at the ground until the rest of the stranger's words sink in, and then he slides his gaze over to look at the man's black boots. "You are…?"

"You can sit up," the stranger says instead of answering. "You're very polite, but your incense is done burning." His words are nice enough, but his voice is snide.

Lan WangJi sits up and looks at him. He doesn't look like a god, but then Lan WangJi's never seen a god before. The stranger is maybe eighteen, with wild black hair in a messy ponytail, his tunic redder than the one painted on the god statue. He looks smart and mean. "Young master," Lan WangJi says, unsure what the etiquette is here. "Do you keep this temple?"

"Don't play stupid," the young man says. "It's impolite."

"Lord Hua Cheng," Lan WangJi acquiesces, nodding politely. Hua Cheng raises his eyebrows and nods back, exaggerating the motion. Lan WangJi thinks, This is insane, and then he hears his mouth say, "Prove it."

Hua Cheng raises his eyebrows and grins, feral and nasty. "Bold!" he laughs, and then he says seriously, "You don't want me to prove it."

"No?" Lan WangJi asks, because apparently if he can't get Wei WuXian back into this world, he'll go ahead and meet him in the next.

Hua Cheng narrows his eyes, his expression smug. "Do you know what I'm the god of, pretty little cultivator boy?"

"No," Lan WangJi admits.

Hua Cheng stands up and his form is suddenly that of a woman, strong and middle aged, black hair shot through with grey. "Nothing," she says. "I'm not a god of anything at all." She leans down and flicks Lan WangJi's forehead. "I'm a demon."

Lan WangJi doesn't flinch, just holds her gaze and stays silent until Hua Cheng turns away smugly. He sees it now, the demonic energy swirling around her. He'd known that common people sometimes worship demons, but he still feels surprised.

"If you draw that pretty sword from its sheath I'll turn it to dust in your hands," Hua Cheng warns him without looking. Lan WangJi puts his hand back in his lap. "Good boy." Hua Cheng turns back around and her shape has changed again; he's a man again, around Lan WangJi's age, one eye covered by a black eyepatch. He drops into a crouch again, arms folded across his chest, and asks, "Why do you want to know about the Yiling Patriarch?"

"He was my friend," Lan WangJi says.

"Oh? You want to make sure he's in hell after how he betrayed you?" Hua Cheng guesses, single dark eye wide in his face.

"No."

"You want to resurrect him and punish him yourself?"

"No."

"Then what?"

It must be because Hua Cheng is annoying, or because Lan WangJi has been exhausted for the last six years, or else because Hua Cheng isn't human, that Lan WangJi says, "I just miss him." Hua Cheng raises his eyebrows, evidently surprised. "He didn't deserve what he got."

"Eh!" Hua Cheng says. "That's not what I hear."

Lan WangJi shakes his head minutely, suddenly suffocating with the desire to make sure that someone, at least, knows the truth. "He was a good man. He did the wrong things for the right reasons — he was trying to keep everybody safe. He was good and it made things worse and it killed him." He shuts his stupid mouth.

Hua Cheng blinks at him and says, "Ah." Some of the meanness has left his face, replaced by something more complicated. "You love him?" Lan WangJi clenches his jaw and looks away. Hua Cheng says, "Hm. Did he know?"

"No," Lan WangJi says, staring at the ground. "That's why. I need to tell him — he has to know."

There's a long pause where Hua Cheng stares at the side of his face. "I'll see what I can find out," he says at last. "Come back in three days."

Lan WangJi blinks in surprise and looks at him, but he's gone, evaporated into the dark.

*

Three days later Lan WangJi has more or less convinced himself that that whole interaction was hallucinations caused by sleep deprivation, or too much wishful thinking, or strange incense, or something, but he returns to the temple just in case. Hua Cheng is already there when he enters, sitting on the altar, shaped like a little girl. Lan WangJi kneels to bow to her.

"Don't do that," Hua Cheng snaps. "That whole custom is stupid. Just light some incense and come back."

Lan WangJi obeys, figuring he might as well. It's Hua Cheng's temple anyway. Hua Cheng kicks her feet when Lan WangJi comes back and says, "So I have good news and I have bad news, loverboy."

"Good news?" Lan WangJi echoes despite himself. Any news at all is more than he's gotten these past four years.

"Mm. The good news is everyone's heard of your fucking boyfriend and now they know to come to me if they hear anything new," Hua Cheng says.

"He's not my boyfriend," Lan WangJi says, because it's true and it's important.

"Okay, everyone's heard of your friend whom you loved and couldn't save," Hua Cheng corrects herself meanly. Lan WangJi does flinch this time. "Let me talk."

"My apologies," Lan WangJi says, looking away. "I spoke out of line."

Hua Cheng squints at him, but she seems appeased. "The bad news is no one's heard anything from him since his death."

"Mm," Lan WangJi says, disappointment flooding his mouth like bile.

"Sorry, kid," she offers, her little-girl voice gentler than it has been.

"Thank you," he says. "For asking around."

"Mm," Hua Cheng says. She picks up a bowl of rice from the altar and starts eating it. Lan WangJi realizes he hasn't given her an offering yet, so he reaches into his sleeves and pulls out a persimmon. Hua Cheng looks at it, thinks, and waves it away. "Keep it," she says.

Lan WangJi frowns. "You helped me," he points out. "Don't I owe you more?"

Hua Cheng slides off the altar, abruptly a man again, and laughs nastily. "That's a dangerous question to ask a demon," he points out, and oh, god, of course he's right. "No, this is a gift, not a trade. I'm helping you because I'm bored and sentimental, not because I want you to owe me," he sneers.

"... Alright," Lan WangJi says, unconvinced.

"Tell you what," Hua Cheng says suddenly, stepping closer. He's taller than Lan WangJi, which is unusual. His expression is a little manic. "When you get your love back, you invite me to the wedding. That's your payment. Eh?"

"Ah," Lan WangJi says, shocked. Hua Cheng pats his shoulder condescendingly and steps past him, and he's already disappeared again when Lan WangJi turns to follow.

When, Lan WangJi thinks, absurdly buoyed by Hua Cheng's casual, annoying confidence in him. When you find him. When.

*

Years pass. Lan WangJi still visits every temple he sees, but no other gods or demons deign to show themselves to him. Hua Cheng temples are everywhere, now that he's noticing; he supposes they just hadn't registered for him before. He lights incense and prays standing up, saves his offerings for the next temple. Hua Cheng doesn't appear again for another six years, and when at last he does, he looks tired, but in a way that suggests that he's been doing things he enjoys. Less strung out, or something.

He's in the form of a teenager again, lounging on the altar when Lan WangJi enters. He gives a sardonic little wave, and Lan WangJi salutes him in return. "Been a while, little cultivator," Hua Cheng says, as if the gap has been on Lan WangJi's end instead of his own.

"It has," Lan WangJi agrees.

"I haven't heard anything about him," Hua Cheng says bluntly, staring at Lan WangJi. "It's been ten years. Don't you think you ought to move on?"

"No," Lan WangJi says, and he leaves it at that.

Hua Cheng looks at him critically, sharp eyes narrowed, looking for something. "If he does come back," he starts. Lan WangJi looks at him. "If he comes back, and he doesn't want you. What will you do?"

Lan WangJi is not the kind of person who shrugs. He holds his hands behind his back instead and says, "I don't need him to want me. If he's alive that's good enough for me."

"Even without you?"

"Yes."

"Hm," Hua Cheng says. Then he says, "I waited for eight hundred years. Ten years is nothing."

Lan WangJi blinks at him, unsure what to say. Ten years has been awful. Eight hundred?

"You're so sensitive," Hua Cheng tells him. Is he? "I'm telling you just because it's been ten years doesn't mean you should give up. Time moves differently when you're dead. That's all a ghost is — a person stuck in time."

"Mm," Lan WangJi says. That's one way of thinking about it, he supposes. The problem is that it would be easier if Wei WuXian were a ghost — he's not stuck in time, he's stuck out of it.

Hua Cheng slides off the altar and claps him on the shoulder like he'd done six years ago. Lan WangJi looks down at him and raises an eyebrow. "You can't control where he is. But you really only have two options anyway," Hua Cheng tells him. "Survive this, or don't."

"Oh," Lan WangJi says, and Hua Cheng slips past him. Lan WangJi expects him to disappear, but he's still there when Lan WangJi turns after him, ready to leave the temple. Hua Cheng is leaning against the doorframe; next to him is a white-robed cultivator whom Lan WangJi doesn't recognize. Hua Cheng offers his hand, and the cultivator takes it, then gives Lan WangJi a little wave with his other hand.

"I think you'll survive," Hua Cheng says, and they both leave. When Lan WangJi emerges from the temple they're nowhere in sight.

*

Three years, hundreds of miles, and thousands of temples later, Lan WangJi hears a flute on a mountainside and just like that Wei WuXian is back in his life. Lan WangJi wants to embrace him, talk to him, kiss him, tell him, tell him, tell him, but Wei WuXian is trying to be discreet, in his own way, so Lan WangJi plays along. Lets himself be harassed all the way back to Gusu, thrilled by how annoying Wei WuXian still is, how immature and clever and brilliant he is. Even death can't water him down.

The juniors are used to Lan WangJi stopping to visit every temple they pass, so they're unsurprised when Lan WangJi takes a quick, private detour by himself to visit the Hua Cheng temple that he knows is nearby. Wei WuXian, of course, throws a public tantrum over Lan WangJi's hour-long abandonment of him, but Lan WangJi sees through him. It's exhausting, he imagines, to keep up the act around someone who really knows him; Wei WuXian is eager to have an hour to plot by himself without Lan WangJi lurking nearby.

Still, he makes it quick. He lights an incense and stands in front of the altar and says without preamble, "Found him," and Hua Cheng's voice appears in his ears like a phantom a moment later: Good luck.

"Oh, no," Wen Ning says behind them. Wei WuXian turns around to look at him, sitting quietly in the back of the boat.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

Wen Ning gestures at the dark night sky behind him. "Storm's coming," he says. As if to emphasize his words, a sharp web of lightning illuminates the belly of encroaching clouds a dark purple. Moments later there's a quiet roll of thunder, almost indistinguishable from the sounds of the river around them.

"Shit," Wei WuXian says quietly.

"We should get off the water," Lan WangJi says.

"Shit," Wei WuXian says again. They've been on the water for barely two hours; the river is fast, but it's not fast enough to get them to Yunping by the time the storm catches up to them. Wei WuXian turns back to face the prow of the boat and squints through the dark at the horizon. He nudges Lan WangJi. "Lan Zhan, you have better vision than me. You see anything? A town or anything?"

Lan WangJi narrows his eyes, his eyelashes a dark smudge over his strange pale eyes. After a moment he says, "There's something coming up on the eastern bank. Too small to be a town. Probably a fishing village."

Wei WuXian goes to pat his knee in appreciation, but then he thinks of Jiang Cheng, and he stops himself. "Great," he says, trying to pretend like he's fine. "Okay, we'll stop there until the storm passes. Okay with you, Wen Ning?"

"Yes, Young Master," Wen Ning says.

Wei WuXian frowns to himself. It's not that he was hoping Wen Ning would complain, because obviously this plan is reasonable for everyone and it would be stupid for Wen Ning to object. But Wen Ning never pushes back on anything, just nods and agrees with whatever Wei WuXian says. It was fine during the war, but now it just makes Wei WuXian feel guilty. He wants a friend, not a second in command.

The rain catches up to them just as Wen Ning starts to swing the boat towards shore. Wei WuXian says "Ah" when the first raindrops start to hit the boat, and then Lan WangJi raises his arm to drape his trailing sleeve over Wei WuXian's head and shoulders. His arm is a warm weight across Wei WuXian's shoulders, solid and comforting. Wei WuXian valiantly resists the urge to lean into his side, just sighs a quiet, "Thanks, Lan Zhan."

"Mn," Lan WangJi says.

The boat nudges the firm mud bank and the three of them disembark carefully, boots splashing in the shallows. Lan WangJi isn't able to keep his sleeve over Wei WuXian as they climb out, but as soon as they're both upright again he lays it back over his head like a cloak. Wei WuXian wants to tease him about it, how he's not a maiden and he can stand a little rain, but again he bites his tongue. He wants Lan WangJi to keep spoiling him.

They hide the boat among the reeds and pick their way up the bank until they reach a footpath. They trudge through deepening mud, the rain falling in earnest now. When Wei WuXian glances up from watching his step, he sees Lan WangJi's hair is a black slick spilling down his damp white robes. He wants to braid it, run it through his fingers, kiss it. He looks away. "Hope this village is close," he mumbles.

"Look up," Lan WangJi tells him, so he does. He can just make out the glow of yellow lights in the distance, buildings illuminated by candles, plus a single building that's illuminated red, closer down the path, on the outskirts of what must be the village proper.

"A temple?" Wei WuXian guesses. Lightning cracks overhead, almost helpful, revealing the angular contours of the temple's sloping roof. Thunder rolls in a second later, deep and loud, something torn apart, and the rain gets heavier. "Let's go in there," he decides. "You like temples, right, Lan Zhan? I hear you like temples."

Lan WangJi grunts his agreement, although he doesn't sound particularly enthusiastic. But then, he never does.

"I'll stay outside," Wen Ning says, sounding a little morose. "I don't mind the rain."

"Eh?" Wei WuXian says, turning to look at him. "You don't have to. I don't think we need to keep watch or anything."

"I don't really like temples," Wen Ning admits. "I feel a little weird being… the way I am."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says. That makes sense, he guesses. "I'm sorry," he offers.

"Oh!" Wen Ning says, "No, no, it's not your fault, Young Master, I just — you know, gods, and everything—"

Wei WuXian laughs lightly and drops it, because he doesn't want to make Wen Ning more uncomfortable than he already is. But he knows it is his fault. He settles on telling Wen Ning, "Still, you should find somewhere dry. I don't want you mildewing, ahaha."

Wen Ning laughs weakly. They both know it's not really a joke.

They reach the temple and Wen Ning splits, wishing them goodnight as he disappears back into the darkness, and then it's just Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi, alone together — really alone — for the first time since they prayed to Sect Leader Jiang and Madame Yu. Wei WuXian looks at him from under his sleeve and grins nervously, determined not to make this weird. Lan WangJi just looks at him, his eyes turned dark orange in the red light from the temple. Then he turns and guides Wei WuXian inside.

Wei WuXian looks around, Lan WangJi's sleeve off his shoulder at last. The temple is dimly lit, little tea candles flickering along the lacquer red walls, and it smells like spicy incense. The god statue is some deity or other that Wei WuXian doesn't recognize, although that's not particularly surprising. He hasn't spent much time in temples either. Lan WangJi makes a sound of recognition, though, so maybe between the two of them they're about average.

Lan WangJi helps him out of his wet outer robe and goes to drape their clothes somewhere to dry. Wei WuXian peers at the statue; it's a charmingly ugly depiction of what looks like maybe a martial god, all in red, with an embarrassingly poorly carved sword at his side and a white enamel flower in his hand. A little plaque underneath reads CRIMSON RAIN SEEKS FLOWER HUA CHENG.

Wei WuXian squints. Hua Cheng — that's a name he's heard before, but where…?

"— Oh," he says abruptly. Lan WangJi glances at him from where he's kneeling to light incense. "Ah, Lan Zhan, we ought to leave — this is a demonic temple! Let's go elsewhere."

Lan WangJi looks at him. "... No," he says at last. "Hua Cheng is alright."

Wei WuXian blinks at him. "Are you serious??"

"Yes," Lan WangJi says, and he doesn't elaborate, because of course he doesn't elaborate.

But whatever his reasons, Wei WuXian trusts him, so he just says, "Oookay," and goes to light incense of his own, figuring that he might as well. He dedicates it privately to Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu, and apologizes for the scene in the ancestral hall. His chest starts to hurt as soon as he even thinks about it, he's still so fucking angry and hurt. Jiang Cheng. God. He asks their parents to take care of Jiang Cheng, because he needs it, he thinks nastily, and then he repeats himself: because he needs it, not nasty at all.

Lan WangJi rises and approaches the altar, brushing his fingertips across Wei WuXian's shoulders as he passes. He doesn't place anything on the altar, which is reassuring — he hasn't lost his entire mind — and he doesn't kneel either, just stands there with his shoulders straight, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes closed, looking thoughtful.

"What are you up to?" Wei WuXian asks, his voice quiet over the sound of the rain outside.

"Asking if we might sleep here tonight," Lan WangJi answers, eyes still closed.

"Okaaay," Wei WuXian says again. He guesses Lan WangJi really likes following the rules.

After a moment Lan WangJi opens his eyes and shakes his head minutely. Then he reaches into his sleeve and retrieves an orange, and for a second Wei WuXian assumes he'll put it on the altar, but Lan WangJi just turns and sits on the floor facing him and begins cutting the fruit into sections.

Wei WuXian raises his eyebrows. "You should eat," Lan WangJi tells him in explanation.

"We ate a couple hours ago," Wei WuXian points out, but he sits down across from him anyway. "Isn't it rude to eat in a temple? Especially since we haven't given any offerings."

"Hua Cheng doesn't take offerings," Lan WangJi says. Weu WuXian looks past him at the altar, where plates of fruit are currently desiccating. Lan WangJi wouldn't lie, but what sort of inside scoop could he possibly have about this demon god?

Lan WangJi hands him a slice of orange. He takes it, but refuses the second slice. "You should eat too."

"Hm."

"I'll eat half if you'll eat half," Wei WuXian tells him. "No arguing."

"Mm."

They're sitting there on the floor of the temple, quietly eating fruit and listening to the rain outside, when something catches Lan WangJi's attention over Wei WuXian's shoulder. He turns to look, and sees two figures standing just outside the temple door. He instinctively grabs at Lan WangJi's wrist — We're caught — but then the figures step forward into the light, and Wei WuXian realizes they're just normal travelers: a tall man with an umbrella and a little cultivator who's probably from the area. He releases Lan WangJi and salutes them. "Good evening, fellow travelers."

The cultivator salutes him back. "Good evening."

"Young Master Lan," the man with the umbrella says. He folds his umbrella and sets it by the entryway to dry. "Long time no see."

"Mm," Lan WangJi says. "You're doing well." It's not quite a question.

"Lan Zhan, you know these fellows?" Wei WuXian asks him, only a little surprised. Lan WangJi knows a lot of people, but Wei WuXian had thought mostly his acquaintances would be from the powerful sects, not normal people.

"I helped him out a little a couple years back," the umbrella man says vaguely. His tone of voice suggests that it was more than a little, but Wei WuXian can't imagine Lan WangJi needing much help with anything. "In fact, I'd like to catch up. Talk with me, Young Master."

Wei WuXian tries not to scowl at the man's arrogance. Who the hell is he, that he gets to talk to Lan WangJi like that? He isn't even using his proper title. But Lan WangJi nods in acquiescence and rises, giving the last of the orange to Wei WuXian as he does. "I'll just be a minute," he says quietly.

"Okay," Wei WuXian says helplessly. Lan WangJi looks at him for a moment, searching his face for something, and then he turns away. He retrieves his wet robe from its place near the door, and the umbrella man takes his umbrella, and they step out into the rain and dark. Wei WuXian stares after them.

The little cultivator sits down neatly across from him. "You don't have to worry about your friend," he says gently. "He's safe with San Lang."

"Yeah," Wei WuXian says noncommittally. "I don't like seeing him go."

"I know the feeling," the little cultivator agrees. Wei WuXian offers him a slice of orange in solidarity. He takes it with a grin, informal and friendly. "Oh!My name is Xie Lian," he says abruptly, mouth half full of fruit.

Wei WuXian laughs at him. "Nice to meet you," he says, "I'm —"

And then he stops. He hasn't had to introduce himself to anyone for a while. He certainly can't be Wei WuXian, but he's so fucking sick of being Mo XuanYu. "Um, Lan Ying. At your service," he finishes lamely, face heating stupidly a moment later. Lan Ying, really?

"Nice to meet you too, Lan Ying," Xie Lian says, evidently choosing not to call him out on his obvious lie.

"So — so you're a cultivator?" Wei WuXian says desperately. "Where are you from?"

Xie Lian kind of shrugs awkwardly. "Nowhere you would have heard of," he says. "I'm afraid I'm the last of my sect."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says. "I'm sorry." He really hopes it wasn't his fault.

"It's alright," Xie Lian says. "Things happen, you know."

"Yeah," Wei WuXian says, wretched. "They do."

"So your friend knows my San Lang?" Xie Lian asks. Wei WuXian offers him another slice of orange.

"Yeah, I guess," Wei WuXian says. "San Lang, huh… I've never heard him mention that name. But he doesn't talk that much."

"He wouldn't know him by that name anyway," Xie Lian admits. "He's San Lang to me, but he has other names."

"Huh," Wei WuXian says.

"To be honest I'm a little surprised," Xie Lian says, turning the orange section over in his hands. He has dainty fingers but scarred knuckles. "San Lang doesn't really have friends, other than me. He's a little… intimidating."

Wei WuXian laughs. "Boy, do I know the feeling. Lan Zhan's like that too."

"That must be why my San Lang likes him," Xie Lian snickers. "He's contrary."

Wei WuXian blinks at him. "Your?"

Xie Lian grins at him, bright and handsome. "San Lang is my husband!" he enthuses. Then he shakes one of his hands in the air, apparently in excitement. Wei WuXian can't help but smile back, charmed.

"Congratulations," he says, surprised and impressed at how fearless he is about just saying it like that.

"Thank you!" Xie Lian says, "I really love him!"

Wei WuXian grins helplessly. Something in his chest feels warm and full, lifted by this strange person's confident love for another man, how he doesn't seem ashamed or anxious about it at all. He wants to communicate that, somehow, wants to tell him I see you. But what comes out is, "Doesn't it hurt?"

Xie Lian's hand stops moving in the air, and he moves to cover his smile instead, his eyebrows arched in amusement. "That's a little personal," he says, "and you're making some assumptions, but if you must know, as long as you take it slow—"

Wei WuXian blinks, and then he Realizes and shrieks, "OH, MY GOD, NO," and Xie Lian starts laughing. "No, I'm so sorry, that's not — I am so sorry, I meant — to love someone that much, doesn't it hurt?"

Xie Lian's laughter dies. He glances towards the black rain outside, then looks back at Wei WuXian. "No," he says, his eyes wide and dark and honest. "It doesn't. My young friend… Loving him is just about the only thing that doesn't hurt."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says. His chest hurts again. He wants, suddenly, to cry. He ignores it. "How did you know?" he asks very quietly.

Xie Lian looks again at his slice of orange, runs his fingertips along the bumpy side. "I liked him right away," he says. "Or — when we finally found each other again. We had met very early on, and then we kept almost losing each other. He did lose me, for a long time. But then we found each other again and I realized he had been waiting that whole time, and he was just so…" He picks at the pith that Lan WangJi hadn't peeled off. "I know he can be very rude and at times unkind to other people. But he's smart and brave and funny and he loves me. I didn't even know he was waiting…"

Wei WuXian makes a sound to indicate that he's listening. Xie Lian tilts his head and finishes simply, "He delights my heart. I think about him and it's like sunlight starts in my heart and travels outwards. You know?"

Wei WuXian pulls his knees up to his chest. "... Yeah," he says quietly. "I do know."

"Mm," Xie Lian says, a knowing smile on his lips. He pats Wei WuXian's shoulder supportively. "Don't give up, little brother."

"Eh! 'Little brother,' what!" Wei WuXian says, mock-outraged. "I'm thirty-five!" (Sort of. He was born thirty-five years ago, anyway.) "You must be, what, twenty-five tops?"

"Nooo," Xie Lian says, smiling. "I'm eight hundred years old."

"You don't look a day over four hundred," Wei WuXian says. "Seriously, how old are you?"

"Seriously, I'm eight hundred years old," Xie Lian tells him.

Wei WuXian squints at him. He doesn't look like he's joking. "Wow," Wei WuXian says. "What the hell."

"Cultivators are frequently older than we look," Xie Lian points out.

"Yeah, but I don't know about anyone older than, like, a hundred twenty. And even then it's mostly rumors," Wei WuXian says.

"Well, here I am," Xie Lian says with a smile.

"Here you are!" his husband agrees from the doorway. Wei WuXian startles, then waves at Lan WangJi as he follows Umbrella Man (not San Lang, Wei WuXian supposes) inside. Umbrella Man replaces the umbrella by the door, and Lan WangJi shrugs out of his thoroughly-soaked outer robe again. Xie Lian wiggles his fingers at Umbrella Man, who smiles at him and comes to sit down next to him, arm slung around his waist. Wei WuXian looks away, embarrassed by their easy public affection, and looks at Lan WangJi instead as he comes to sit next to him. He flicks his eyes in Umbrella Man's general direction, asking, Okay? Lan WangJi nods and tilts his chin towards Xie Lian. Wei WuXian just smiles.

"Gege," Umbrella Man says. "You're friends with Wei WuXian now?"

Wei WuXian blinks and looks back at them. Lan WangJi told him who he was?

"Oh!" Xie Lian says. "You're Wei WuXian. I've heard a little about you." To Umbrella Man he says, "Yes, we're friends now," amusement creeping into his voice. "He gave me orange slices."

Wei WuXian clears his throat, embarrassed to have been caught lying about his name. "Yep," he agrees. "We're pals. Master — uh, Second Master Xie," and Umbrella Man's single eye widens, his mouth thinning with a repressed expression, "if he's your gege, you must not also be eight hundred years old?"

Lan WangJi lays a palm flat on his back, an expression of comprehension but also a warning. Umbrella Man just snickers. "No, yeah, I am," he says.

"Eh! Really!" Wei WuXian says. "But you're not a cultivator?"

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi says quietly.

"No, I'm not," Umbrella Man confirms, eye narrowed smugly.

"Lan Zhan, I'm impressed by you," Wei WuXian tells him. "If either of us were to make friends with a demon, I would have guessed it would be me."

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi says again.

Hua Cheng laughs meanly. "'Friends' is a strong word," he says.

Xie Lian tugs gently on his hair in admonishment. "You're friends," he says firmly.

"Eh, gege," Hua Cheng starts.

"You've known each other for years and you haven't killed him yet? That's friendship from you!" Xie Lian says.

"I'm curious, Lan Zhan, what could you possibly have been cavorting with demons about?" Wei WuXian asks. "All due respect, of course," he adds to Hua Cheng, who smirks.

"If you can't guess, I won't tell you," Lan WangJi says, because he's a jerk.

"Eh… so cruel," Wei WuXian sniffs. He turns to Hua Cheng. "Hua Cheng, you'll tell me, right!! I'm a demonic cultivator, you know, I'm sure you and I have much more in common than you and Lan Zhan do."

Hua Cheng laughs in his face. "I don't think we do," he says. "And no, I won't tell you, it's much funnier to me if you don't know."

Xie Lian rolls his eyes fondly, and Wei WuXian groans.

In the end they don't tell him at all. The four of them just sort of chat around the mystery of how Lan WangJi got to be friends with someone as evil and cool as Hua Cheng, who is apparently the king of ghosts, and instead they talk about the weather, and what Ghost City is like, and how Hua Cheng and Xie Lian haven't been paying much attention at all to the cultivation world and don't have any clue what's been happening. For his part, Wei WuXian describes briefly the theory behind his demonic cultivation, and Xie Lian frowns but looks thoughtful.

"That's interesting," he says, chin in hand. "I wouldn't have thought of that. It's dangerous, but it's smart and it seems to work."

"That's what I've been saying!!" Wei WuXian agrees, thrilled that someone finally seems to get it.

"It doesn't work," Lan WangJi says, his voice quiet and hard.

"Not perfectly," Wei WuXian concedes. "But it was the only choice I had. Anyway, I did almost everything I needed to do."

Lan WangJi makes a sound through his teeth like he disagrees. "It's late," he says, an obvious and inelegant change of topic. "I'm going to sleep." He stands up, finally lifting his hand from Wei WuXian's back. Wei WuXian frowns at him but doesn't say anything.

"There's a back room with a stove," Xie Lian tells them. "You can sleep there."

"Thanks," Wei WuXian says for Lan WangJi. "Every time he's forced to stay up past 9 his will to live diminishes." Hua Cheng snorts. Lan WangJi kind of grunts and reaches his hand down to help Wei WuXian up. Wei WuXian hadn't been planning on going to bed just now, but he wants to take that hand and let Lan WangJi pull him up, so he does.

Wei WuXian lets himself be led to investigate the back room. It's just big enough inside for two; presumably it's for things like weddings and festivals, when the caretakers of this temple are expected to stay the night. He ducks back out and says, "This is great, thank you," to Xie Lian and Hua Cheng.

Hua Cheng waves him off. "Yeah, yeah. Don't wreck anything."

"Sleep well," Xie Lian says.

"You too," Wei WuXian says automatically, and then he wonders if they sleep at all, so he adds, "uh, goodnight," and slips back into the back room.

"Let's stay the night too, gege," Hua Cheng says cheerfully, as Wei WuXian closes the door behind him.

There's a pair of bamboo mats in one corner, and a little pile of firewood next to the stove, but the two of them look at each other and the stove and shake their heads. They're trying to be discreet; woodsmoke from a temple for no reason isn't ideal. Wei WuXian hands one bamboo mat to Lan WangJi and unrolls the other himself. Lan WangJi lights a single candle and sets it on the stove.

"I don't know why you're still such a jerk about my cultivation," Wei WuXian tells him, laying his mat out on the floor. "Especially since you understand why I did it now."

Lan WangJi pauses. Wei WuXian starts stripping to just his undershirt and trousers, his back decisively to his friend. He isn't really hurt by Lan WangJi's disapproval, not after so long, but he wants to make him squirm a little.

"I do understand," Lan WangJi says after a moment. He lays out his own mat next to Wei WuXian's. "Knowing why doesn't make me like it."

"Hanguang-Jun is so righteous," Wei WuXian says lightly, sitting down and balling up his clothes to use as a pillow.

"Hanguang-Jun watched demonic cultivation kill his friend," Lan WangJi says flatly.

Wei WuXian shuts his stupid mouth. Who was it? He hadn't thought he'd killed anyone Lan WangJi knew — except, of course, for Jiang YanLi, whom he didn't know personally, and Jin ZiXuan, who didn't deserve what he got but wasn't the kind of person Lan WangJi would have been friends with either. "I'm sorry," he says wretchedly.

Lan WangJi sighs, shrugs out of his layers as well, sits down next to Wei WuXian, doesn't look at him. "Mn," he says.

"Lan Zhan?" Wei WuXian says quietly, leaning closer, because he hates himself and he deserves this. "Who was it?" Lan WangJi makes a sound in his nose that suggests he doesn't understand the question. "Who did I… who was your friend?"

Lan WangJi looks at him finally, a frustrated little crease between his perfect brows. After a moment of tense eye contact which makes Wei WuXian sweat nervously, Lan WangJi seems to decide he's being serious. He lifts one hand and nudges the heel of his palm against Wei WuXian's forehead. "Wei Ying. It was you, fool. Demonic cultivation killed you."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says, blinking. "Oh. I — I guess I didn't realize you considered me a friend. Back then."

Lan WangJi looks pained. "Wei Ying," he says again. "You were my only friend."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says, very quietly.

Lan WangJi turns away and starts taking down his hair from its aristocratic little bun. Wei WuXian wants to help him. He undoes his own ponytail instead and curls up on his side like a shrimp, his back to Lan WangJi again. Now that he's lying down he feels exhaustion slam into him, like it was all concentrated in his legs and now it can flow into his brain. The candle extinguishes with a wave of Lan WangJi's hand.

"Goodnight, Lan Zhan," Wei WuXian whispers into the dark.

"Goodnight, Wei Ying," Lan WangJi whispers back.

Wei WuXian gasps awake, head spinning with visions of blood and teeth and ash. The nightmare fades quickly, almost entirely forgotten by the time he gets his breathing back to normal, but he's still shaken. He needs to move. He lets himself breathe a swear, then he heaves himself upright and cracks open the door. The temple is still lit with candles, so he tries to slip out quickly so the light doesn't wake Lan WangJi up.

He pads silently through the temple, the glazed wood floor cool and smooth against his bare feet. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are wrapped around each other on a single prayer mat by the wall, evidently asleep. Xie Lian's head is tucked under Hua Cheng's chin; their hands are tangled in each other's hair. Wei WuXian swallows and keeps walking. He hesitates at the entrance to the temple for a moment, and then he steps out into the drizzling rain, face upturned to catch the raindrops. The night air is cool, and the raindrops cooler, but it feels good, refreshing.

He sees Lan WangJi's shadow appear next to his own moments before he touches Wei WuXian's shoulder. "Wei Ying," he says, voice low and gravelled with sleep. "What are you doing?"

"I had a bad dream," Wei WuXian says honestly. "Just wanted some air."

"Mmn," Lan WangJi says. "Come back inside. You're getting wet."

"Mm," Wei WuXian agrees, and he lets Lan WangJi lead him back inside with a hand at his back. Wei WuXian slows down when they pass Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, looks at them and then away again, embarrassed again by their closeness and his fascination with it.

Lan WangJi shepherds him back into the room and closes the door. Wei WuXian realizes at last that he isn't wearing his forehead ribbon, and feels bad about waking him up. "Sorry," he says. "Go back to sleep."

"Mm," Lan WangJi says, sitting down again. Then, "Are you really so disgusted?"

"What?" Wei WuXian asks, taken aback. He sits down too.

"You could barely look at them," Lan WangJi says, nodding towards the door.

"Wha?" Wei WuXian says again. "No." He presses his hands into his rain-damp eyelids, not really ready for this conversation. "I'm not disgusted, I'm so envious I could throw up."

He peeks through his fingers when Lan WangJi doesn't respond. He's being stared at.

"— Not, like, of either of them in particular!!" Wei WuXian clarifies hurriedly. "I just — I want —" He shakes his head. "Nothing," he finishes lamely. "Nothing, I'm just tired, ignore me."

"No," Lan WangJi says quietly. "Tell me." He lies back down, hands clasped over his chest, face turned to watch Wei WuXian.

Wei WuXian shakes his head again, but he lies down too, on his other side this time to face Lan WangJi. "It's stupid," he says again. Lan WangJi makes a sound like, mn, like he doesn't mind. "I just… They just seem really happy together," he says. "They're happy and they're in love and they're not scared of it or anything and I just — I want that, I've always wanted it," and he realizes, dimly, that he's babbling now, but he can't seem to shut up. "I want that and I don't get to have it because of choices I made so it's not even like it's unfair, because it is fair, and I just have to live with it, but it's really lonely." He takes a shuddering breath. At some point in there he started to cry. "I'm really lonely," he gasps.

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi says quietly. He reaches between them and grasps Wei WuXian's hand in his.

Wei WuXian squeezes his hand in thanks. "Sorry," he mumbles, rubbing his other hand across his eyes. "Sorry. It's stupid. I just need to be a total crybaby for a minute. I just — uuggh!! I wanna be somebody's husband!!" He's half-laughing, half-crying when he says it, because he feels absurd saying it, but it really isn't very funny at all.

"Wei Ying. It's not stupid," Lan WangJi tells him, sleepy voice gentle. "I understand."

Wei WuXian giggles pathetically. "Yeah, but you're not married because you're literally so good and smart and handsome and — and perfect that no one could ever be a good match for you," he points out. "I'm not married because I'm a dead necromancer who killed everybody's relatives."

"Ridiculous," Lan WangJi says. He turns onto his side and tugs on their joined hands. Wei WuXian is frankly shocked, but he takes the hint and shuffles over into Lan WangJi's embrace. Lan WangJi wraps the arm that he's not using to hold his hand around Wei WuXian's shoulders, and they kind of nuzzle into each other until they find an equilibrium where they can both breathe comfortably. Lan WangJi smooths his hand down Wei WuXian's hair and mumbles, "How is it that you're so smart and yet you consistently misunderstand me?"

Wei WuXian snakes his free hand around Lan WangJi's waist and fists his hand carefully into the back of his shirt, not sure what to say to that. He thinks this closeness is probably pity, but he doesn't care. He wants to hold and be held like this forever. He wants Lan WangJi forever. He pushes his face into Lan WangJi's chest and doesn't say anything, just feels his heartbeat against his cheek. He almost says I love your heart. Instead he says, "Goodnight, Lan Zhan."

"Mn. Goodnight, Wei Ying."

*

When Wei WuXian wakes up next, the back room is washed dark blue with the barest beginnings of early morning light oozing in through a single window. The sun must not even be touching the horizon yet. Lan WangJi is a warm, sleepy weight at his back, one arm under Wei WuXian's head like a pillow, and he's breathing softly into his hair. Wei WuXian closes his eyes again. But he can't — won't — go back to sleep, not if it would mean missing this.

He sighs in contentment and puts his hand on Lan WangJi's arm where it's curved around his waist, slides his fingers down his sleeve until he reaches Lan WangJi's hand, with his long fingers and distinct knuckles. He laces their fingers, and he means to only do it for a second, but Lan WangJi tightens his fingers as Wei WuXian tries to slip his hand away again. Wei WuXian tenses guiltily and Lan WangJi nuzzles into his hair, pulls both their hands into Wei WuXian's chest. He must be able to feel how hard Wei WuXian's heart is beating now.

"Wei Ying," he murmurs, lips brushing Wei WuXian's neck.

"Ngk," Wei WuXian says. He tilts his head instinctively to give him better access, and then he has a split second to feel embarrassed about it before Lan WangJi brushes his mouth against his skin, presses soft sleepy kisses into the back of his neck. "Lan Zhan," Wei WuXian breathes. He receives a hum in return, one that he can feel against his skin. "Lan Zhan, are you awake?"

"Mmn," Lan WangJi says, which really isn't an answer. "Wei Ying."

Wei WuXian tightens his grip over Lan WangJi's hand and repeats, "Are you awake?" a little louder this time.

Lan WangJi pauses. Wei WuXian can actually feel his eyelashes flutter against his skin as his eyes open, and then Lan WangJi's whole body tenses against him. He starts to pull himself away, already saying, "I'm sorry—", but Wei WuXian thickens his face and tugs on his hand, keeping him close.

"It's fine," he whispers quickly, "It's fine. Lan Zhan. I like it."

Lan WangJi isn't breathing. Wei WuXian looks at him over his shoulder and sees that his eyes are wide, almost entirely pupil in the dim light, and his ears are dark with flush. Wei WuXian catches his eye and then turns back again, carefully, deliberately baring his throat again. "I like it," he repeats, trying desperately not to let his voice shake. "I want you to — to do it again. But awake."

Lan WangJi doesn't say anything for a long moment. But he slowly lowers his head again and kisses Wei WuXian's ear, which is really, really cute, and breathes, "Okay," and then he kisses just under his ear, which is hot. Wei WuXian sighs his name, and Lan WangJi kisses him again, kisses down his throat to his jaw and back. Wei WuXian brings their joined hands up to his mouth and kisses Lan WangJi's hand, scrapes his teeth along his knuckles. Lan WangJi reciprocates at his throat and he moans into their hands.

"Lan Zhan," he gasps. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan."

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi murmurs into his skin. "Not so loud."

Wei WuXian almost whines and pushes back into Lan WangJi's body. "Closer," he gasps, "Lan Zhan, you, I want—" He cuts himself off to press an open mouthed kiss to Lan WangJi's bicep through his sleeve, the arm under his head. Lan WangJi tightens his other arm around his chest and uses that as leverage to kiss farther down Wei WuXian's neck. Wei WuXian tugs his own shirt down helpfully with his free hand, and Lan WangJi immediately moves to kiss his shoulder.

"Wei Ying," he murmurs, mouth soft and hot against his skin. "I missed you."

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," Wei WuXian says again, "I love your mouth, your hands, keep going."

Lan WangJi bites his shoulder gently and he gasps a laugh. "Not so loud," Lan WangJi says again.

"Give me something better to do with my mouth then," Wei WuXian blurts, and then he's immediately very impressed with himself. Lan WangJi hums and a moment later offers his hand that Wei WuXian isn't clutching.

Wei WuXian grabs his fingers with his own free hand and guides them to his lips, kisses Lan WangJi's fingertips and then his knuckles again, each one, until Lan WangJi brushes his jaw with his thumb and says in a low voice, "Suck," which is probably the best idea he's ever had, and also the hottest fucking thing Wei WuXian has ever experienced. He opens his mouth and takes Lan WangJi's first and second finger inside, tongue carefully positioned so that his teeth aren't a problem (he's thought about this), and starts sucking. The sound is obscene. Lan WangJi gasps into his ear, as if he has the right to be surprised, so Wei WuXian sucks harder, pushes his tongue between his fingers as Lan WangJi strokes them in and out of his mouth.

Lan WangJi shudders and pushes closer, and over the heat and wet of his mouth on his neck and his fingers in his mouth, Wei WuXian gradually becomes aware that he can feel what must be Lan WangJi's erection against his ass. Obviously as soon as he realizes what he's feeling, it becomes his sole mission in life to grind back against it, eliciting another gasp by his ear. He tries to time the roll of his hips with the rhythm of Lan WangJi's fingers in his mouth, but he's not quite coordinated enough, so he guides Lan WangJi's other hand down to hold his hip and set the pace. Lan WangJi moans his name and moves against him, so good even through all the layers of their clothes, and once they've found a rhythm Wei WuXian takes Lan WangJi's hand once again and guides it to cup his own growing erection through his trousers. Lan WangJi falters in surprise, and Wei WuXian pulls his fingers out of his mouth just long enough to gasp, "Is that okay?"

"Yes," Lan WangJi breathes back, "yes, Wei Ying, yes," and then his long, clever fingers start to work. Wei WuXian releases his hand in favor of gripping his elegant wrist so hard that he's worried about bruising. Lan WangJi kisses his ear, bites gently, removes his hand from Wei WuXian's cock just long enough to undo the tie of his trousers and put skin to skin. Wei WuXian shudders in pleasure and pushes into his hand, pushes back against Lan WangJi's erection, feels drool sliding hot and messy from his mouth down the side of his face. He pulls Lan WangJi's one hand back up and his fingers from his mouth, licks his own precum off Lan WangJi's palm and then licks again, making his hand slick and wet, and then replaces both hands where they belong, at his tongue and his cock like the gods intended. Lan WangJi grips him again, and it's even better wet, the firm slide of his hand incredible.

He wants to talk, wants to tell Lan WangJi how fucking good he feels, how he knows just how to touch Wei WuXian to drive him crazy, how Wei WuXian means this more than he's ever meant anything. So when Lan WangJi murmurs, "Okay?" and removes his fingers from his mouth so he can answer, Wei WuXian is over the fucking moon.

"'Okay,' he asks me," he babbles in a breathless whisper, "I'm over here having a fucking religious experience and he asks — ah ! Oh, right there, Lan Zhan, right — just like that — he asks me if it's okay, gods, Lan Zhan, you're so fucking hot, I want you so bad, want your cock in my fucking mouth, that'll shut me up—" Lan WangJi huffs into his hair, almost a laugh, and he keeps stroking, so Wei WuXian continues, gaining steam, "Wanted this for so long, Lan — ah — Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan, my — aaahhnn , GOD, you're so — want you to mark me up, I want everybody to know what we've been doing, they thought it before but this time they'll be RIGHT—"

Lan WangJi bites him, right on the sweep of muscle between his shoulder and his neck, and he moans so loud that he actually surprises himself and has to clap his own hand over his mouth. "Wei Ying," Lan WangJi manages, his voice funny, "Hush."

"Make me," Wei WuXian says, so Lan WangJi leans over and kisses him on the mouth at last, and the angle's not great even with Wei WuXian craning his neck, but they're kissing, open mouthed and desperate, almost clumsy with teeth and tongue. Wei WuXian laughs breathlessly into his mouth, sucks on his tongue, thrusts again and again into his perfect hand. He shifts at last, scooting away so that he can lie on his back, and Lan WangJi follows, braces himself on one arm and kisses him and keeps stroking him off with the other, rolling his hips. Wei WuXian buries his hands in his hair, drags his fingers through it, savors the sight of Lan WangJi all messed up.

"Lan Zhan," Wei WuXian gasps into his mouth at last, "Lan Zhan, I'm — ah, I'm gonna—"

Lan WangJi kisses him then, soft and sweet, keeps kissing him as Wei WuXian inhales hard through his nose and comes all over his hand, strokes him through it and swallows his whining moan. "Wei Ying," he murmurs against his mouth when he's done, eyes half-lidded. "I've got you."

"Yeah," Wei WuXian gasps, unable to say anything else. His chest is still heaving. He pulls Lan WangJi's head down so their foreheads press together, closes his eyes, lets Lan WangJi press light kisses to his open mouth, his jaw, his eyelids. "Lan Zhan…"

"Mmn?"

"Your hand is dirty," Wei WuXian mumbles. He reaches between them and pulls Lan WangJi's cum-stained hand from his trousers. (Gods, he hopes he has a cleaning spell somewhere. He is not walking into Yunping with cum on his clothes.) "Let me clean it off."

Lan WangJi watches him silently until he realizes what Wei WuXian's plan is, and then he says "Ah—", but by that point it's too late and Wei WuXian is already licking his own cum off Lan WangJi's palm. Lan WangJi exhales shakily, but he lets him lick his palm and fingers clean. It's not, like, super pleasant, technically speaking, because cum doesn't actually taste good, but it's super sexy, which is what matters.

"Hey Lan Zhan," he says, and then he sticks his tongue between Lan WangJi's first and middle fingers. Lan WangJi's eyelids flutter. Wei WuXian looks at his wrecked hair and flushed neck and thinks, We did this. He gives Lan WangJi's shoulder a little push, and Lan WangJi goes willingly, lets himself be pushed back against the sleeping mat. Wei WuXian leans over his chest, still clutching his sticky hand. "Lan Zhan, I wanna blow you," he whispers into Lan WangJi's wrist. "Let me go down on you?"

Lan WangJi stares at him, his pupils huge and black, and nods mutely. "You have to say it," Wei WuXian tells him, and presses another kiss to the center of his palm. "Say, 'yes, Wei Ying, please go down on me, I'm just aching for your slick mouth on my cock.'" Lan WangJi flushes and rolls his eyes in amused exasperation at his intentionally florid phrasing, so Wei WuXian presses closer and whispers, "or you can say 'no, Wei Ying, let's do something else,' and then you can tell me exactly what that something else is. In detail."

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi says, and presses a kiss to his cheek. "You can do whatever you want. Just want you."

Wei WuXian pulls back a little and looks at him. Then he kisses him deeply, presses their tongues together, hoping that Lan WangJi can still taste his cum, and then he pulls back and says, "Yeah, okay," and then he moves down his body to settle between his thighs. He leans forward on his elbows to look up Lan WangJi's chest at his face, lets Lan WangJi's erection press into his chest. "I've never done this before," he warns, "in case it isn't obvious, so you have to tell me what you like."

"Mngh," Lan WangJi says, thighs trembling against Wei WuXian's ribs. Wei WuXian grins and bites his lip, and then he pushes himself back down. He considers just pulling Lan WangJi's trousers down immediately, but he had liked it when Lan WangJi palmed him through the cloth, so he lets them stay for now. He just presses his face against Lan WangJi's firm inner thigh, nuzzles his way down to the tented fabric where his legs meet. He runs his hands over Lan WangJi's thighs and hips, lets them just barely brush against his erection before they skim away again. He pushes his face against the cloth, feels hot skin underneath, and inhales slowly through his mouth. Exhales directly into the fabric, lets Lan WangJi feel how warm his breath is. Lan WangJi shakes around him.

"You can put your hands in my hair," Wei WuXian murmurs into him, and then he presses a kiss to the underside of Lan WangJi's cock through his trousers. Lan WangJi reaches down and strokes his hair back from his face with shaking fingers, takes it gently into his fists. Wei WuXian hums in approval at the tug and opens his mouth to breathe soft and hot against him. Lan WangJi makes a sound in his throat, so Wei WuXian reaches up at last and tugs his trousers down, letting his pretty cock bob free, hard and wet with precome. He kisses it immediately, suddenly overcome with the desire to take it into his mouth, and Lan WangJi exhales roughly. "So pretty," Wei WuXian murmurs, tracing his fingers up the length of it, "every part of you is so lovely, Lan Zhan."

One of Lan WangJi's hands leaves his hair, and he looks up to see Lan WangJi has it firmly over his own mouth. Wei WuXian stares, blushing, shocked at the idea that Lan WangJi doesn't trust his own control. Then he decides that he better make it worth the doubt, and he licks a stripe up the hard curve of his cock. When he reaches the top he thinks Well and he just takes the whole thing into his mouth, sucks like he did on Lan WangJi's fingers, careful again with his teeth. The hand in his hair tightens.

There's a bit of a learning curve, but Wei WuXian is nothing if not a quick study. Also, he fucking loves Lan WangJi's cock in his mouth and hand, it turns out. He's almost disappointed when Lan WangJi says, "Ah— I—" and tightens his hand in his hair again, but then he's too busy swallowing to be anything but smug. Again, it's not like cum tastes good, but in the moment he's just thrilled to have made Lan WangJi get here.

When it's all over Wei WuXian tucks him neatly back into his trousers and crawls up Lan WangJi's body, pausing to kiss his chest at his open collar as he goes. He collapses on top of him and lets Lan WangJi kiss him again, wide-eyed in quiet awe.

"Good morning Lan Zhan," Wei WuXian tells him cheekily, and Lan WangJi actually laughs, very quiet and understated, which of course means Wei WuXian has to kiss him again.

"Good morning, Wei Ying," he says finally.

"I like you so fucking much," Wei WuXian tells him.

Lan WangJi stares at him. He takes Wei WuXian's hand and presses it against his own chest, so Wei WuXian can feel his pounding heart. "Wei Ying," he manages. Wei WuXian kisses his pretty mouth, which seems to throw him for another loop. After a moment he blinks hard and says, "When we survive this. I want you to come back to Gusu with me."

Wei WuXian looks at him, irritated dismay poking through his bubble of smug post-orgasmic delight. He rolls off of Lan WangJi's chest and sits up, his face turned away, tries to figure out how to say no.

Lan WangJi gives the end of his hair a little tug. "I'm not asking you to do it," he says gently. "I'm telling you it's what I want."

Wei WuXian picks his hair ribbon up and hands it blindly to Lan WangJi, who takes it and sits up too, pulls his hands through Wei WuXian's hair. He ties Wei WuXian's hair in a half-ponytail, leaves so much hair unbound and loose over his shoulders. "I can't," Wei WuXian says finally. "I'll go anywhere else with you, do anything you want, but I can't live in Gusu."

Lan WangJi tucks his face into Wei WuXian's hair. "Mmn."

"Here's what I like about Gusu," Wei WuXian says, because listing those things will be much more efficient than listing what he dislikes. He ticks each item off on his fingers. "Your fat little bunnies. The landscape. The juniors. And you."

"Mm."

"Everything else can rot, frankly."

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi admonishes mildly.

"Why do you even want me in Gusu?" Wei WuXian asks him. "You should know by now that I refuse to follow rules I think are stupid, which by the way is most of them."

"I want you there because I live there," Lan WangJi says.

"... Oh," Wei WuXian says. He twists around to look at Lan WangJi, searches his face.

Lan WangJi holds out his forehead ribbon.

Wei WuXian looks down at it. After a moment he takes it and presses it to his mouth, watches Lan WangJi's ears redden. He leans forward and kisses Lan WangJi's bare forehead. "I don't just like you," he admits in a whisper.

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi whispers back. "I would marry you."

Wei WuXian pulls away a little, shocked, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. They share prolonged eye contact, both of them growing progressively more anxious, until finally Wei WuXian looks away, down at his hands. He carefully winds Lan WangJi's forehead ribbon around his wrist, ties it sloppily with just one hand and his teeth to manipulate the ends, and then he holds his wrist up for Lan WangJi to stare at. "You've got me," he says simply.

Lan WangJi kisses him.

It's almost 5:30 by the time Lan WangJi is able to extract himself from Wei WuXian's thrilled, clingy adoration, but he manages it, and Wei WuXian helps tie his hair back and they put all their clothes back on and apply various cleaning charms to various clothes and body parts, and then they open the door to the rest of the temple and find that they're alone in the building.

"Huh," Wei WuXian says. "I guess they left early."

"Mm," Lan WangJi says. He doesn't sound convinced. They emerge from the temple into a fresh, sunny morning, the flagstones still wet from last night's rain, and see Hua Cheng sitting on the porch. Xie Lian is a ways away, whirling around on the wet grass doing something that looks like it might be bagua zhang, but he pauses and waves to them.

"You like stretching or whatever in the morning, Lan Zhan," Wei WuXian observes. "Go learn some moves."

"Mm," Lan WangJi says. He goes to join Xie Lian in the grass. Xie Lian is visibly delighted.

"Good morning," Wei WuXian says to Hua Cheng. "We thought you two must have left."

"No, gege just wakes up really early," Hua Cheng says. Then he smirks and adds, "Also, we both have really good hearing. We've been out here for a while."

"HM," Wei WuXian says, abruptly very embarrassed about having sucked Lan WangJi off in a temple while the temple's deity was right fucking there. Also, worried. Hua Cheng seems cool enough, but he sure is a real life actual demon.

Hua Cheng laughs at him, but he doesn't demand an apology or anything, so Wei WuXian relaxes a little. He doesn't like apologizing for things he isn't sorry for. He sits down a couple feet away from Hua Cheng and watches Lan WangJi and Xie Lian move, the two of them beautiful with their white robes and black hair whirling in the morning sun. Wei WuXian knows Lan WangJi isn't familiar with whatever it is that Xie Lian is practicing, but he's smart and strong, so he follows along gracefully enough.

"He's a god, right? Xie Lian is," Wei WuXian says after a while. "He's not just a really old cultivator."

"Mmhmm," Hua Cheng says. "He's the Crown Prince of Xian Le. You ought to have heard of him."

Wei WuXian blinks, impressed. He has heard of him. Xian Le temples have been popping up so frequently in the last couple years that he's overheard cultivators wondering if it isn't sinister somehow. "Wow," he says.

"Yeah," Hua Cheng says smugly.

"Aren't you worried you're gonna, like, taint him or something? Ruin him?" Wei WuXian asks, before he can stop himself. Hua Cheng slides his gaze over, eyebrow arched. "B-because he's so good, right, and you're…"

"A demon?" Hua Cheng asks.

"Well… yeah," Wei WuXian says.

"I'm not worried," Hua Cheng says.

Wei WuXian puts his chin in his hand, wanting him to elaborate but not wanting to ask. "Mm?" he says, taking a page from Lan WangJi's book.

Hua Cheng looks back to watch Xie Lian's elegant movements. "I don't make him worse," he says. "He makes me better."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says.

"By myself I'm nasty and petty and mercurial," Hua Cheng says with a grimace. "But the person I am when I'm with him… He makes me kinder. And better and happier. So I'm not worried." He sighs and pulls a hand through his hair. "And anyway I trust him."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says again.

Hua Cheng looks back at him and says, "You have to trust him."

"Hm," Wei WuXian says.

Hua Cheng stands up and kicks Wei WuXian's leg, just barely this side of playful. "I'm gonna go make tea for my husband. Maybe if you're lucky there'll be some left over."

"Uh huh," Wei WuXian says wryly. "Good talk."

"Good talk," Hua Cheng agrees.

*

They collect Wen Ning and continue on to Yunping. Before they leave the temple Xie Lian loads them both down with blessings and spells and instructs them earnestly to shout for the help of the Crown Prince of Xian Le if they use them, and they promise to do so. Hua Cheng just waves lazily at Lan WangJi.

Yunping happens. Wei WuXian is delighted to learn that Jin GuangYao and Lan XiChen both assumed they really were sleeping together this entire time, even once they realized Wei WuXian was himself, although the delight fizzles when Lan XiChen says Wei WuXian is the only mistake his brother has ever made. It makes him waver, self-doubt creeping as it so rarely does up his ankles and over his knees, but then he thinks, You have to trust him, and it recedes again.

*

In his heart of hearts, Wei WuXian really, really would love an enormous wedding, days long, with hundreds of guests and feasts and outfit changes. But he forfeited that when he became the Yiling Patriarch, and anyway almost all of his and Lan WangJi's friends and family are dead. Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen are still hurt and furious with both of them. Lan SiZhui and Jin Ling are basically the only family either of them has who still speaks to them; Wen Ning and the other Lan juniors count as friends, but a handful of teenagers and a fierce corpse do not a wedding party make.

So they elope. They make their prayers in a Xian Le temple, lighting incense for all their parents as well as Xie Lian and Hua Cheng. Wei WuXian draws a little portrait of Hua Cheng and leaves it on the altar as an afterthought, just in case demons gain power from prayer the same way that Wei WuXian assumes gods do. Neither of them show up, but that's fine; Wei WuXian figures they're busy guys.

The presence of the little portrait of Hua Cheng on the altar is so cute that Wei WuXian starts leaving them in every Xian Le temple they come across, which is a fucking lot, and he leaves portraits of Xie Lian's godly statue in Hua Cheng temples, too. After a couple years they start coming upon temples that already have both halves of the couple represented, which Wei WuXian thinks is entirely due to his own influence.

"My impact!!" he hoots at Lan WangJi, pointing at the twin statues of Xie Lian and Hua Cheng.

"Mm," his husband says.

"Gods, I hope they appreciate this," Wei WuXian sighs cheerfully.

"Oh, we do," Hua Cheng says, directly behind him. Wei WuXian jumps, hand to his chest in surprise, and he and Lan WangJi turn to face him. Hua Cheng smirks, and Xie Lian wiggles his fingers apologetically beside him.

"Prince Xian Le. Lord Hua Cheng," Lan WangJi greets them, saluting politely.

"I liked — what was it you called me, Master Wei?" Hua Cheng says, pretending to think. "Second Master Xie? I liked that." Xie Lian laughs.

"I can keep calling you that," Wei WuXian offers. "Lan Zhan can't because he has to use people's real titles or else he'll die. But I love breaking rules."

"It's a deal," Hua Cheng enthuses.

"— Ah," Lan WangJi says suddenly, looking as if he's realized something. Wei WuXian looks at him curiously. "We never had a wedding," he says, an utter non-sequitur.

"Aha," Hua Cheng says. "I see. So that's why."

Wei WuXian and Xie Lian make eye contact and frown at each other, stumped. "Our husbands are psychic now," Wei WuXian whispers to him, and Xie Lian snickers.

"I was promised an invitation to your wedding, many years ago," Hua Cheng explains with a wide grin. "I've been waiting and waiting."

"Oh," Wei WuXian says, feeling guilty about it on Lan WangJi's behalf. "Sorry, yeah, I dunno if that's ever gonna happen. We only have like four friends."

Hua Cheng snorts. "We know the feeling," Xie Lian says.

"It's fine," Hua Cheng decides, waving off Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian's guilt. "We'll survive. The temple additions are nice."

"Hm," Lan WangJi says.

They'd gone to the market that morning, and it's persimmon season right now, so Wei WuXian had insisted, and Lan WangJi loves buying fruit for him anyway. Wei WuXian watches as Lan WangJi reaches into his sleeves and produces two of the browning-ripe fruits for Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, who take them. Xie Lian murmurs his thanks, clearly amused at the whole situation, but Hua Cheng frowns.

"It's not a debt," he says.

"It's not," Lan WangJi agrees. "It's a gift."

Hua Cheng smiles.