”I’m sorry,” Wei Ying says into the quiet.
”Wei Ying—”
”You didn’t even—and I just—so it’s my faul—”
”Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji interrupts with a bit more force. ”Stop.”
Wei Ying stops, curling slightly into himself. It is unacceptable so Lan Wangji turns slightly, forces down the wince at the sticky-sore-unpleasant feeling in his backside, and holds out his hand. ”May I?” he asks, wanting to make sure. Sometimes Wei Ying craves contact, sometimes he can be prickly like a hedgehog, and as time has gone by, Lan Wangji has learned to ask.
Wei Ying ducks his head and then mumbles something under his breath as he crawls into Lan Wangji’s arms. His spent penis is cool and sticky as it drags against Lan Wangji’s thigh, eliciting absolutely no amorous feelings. Seems like there’s a first time for everything.
”Lan Zhan—” Wei Ying starts and then falls silent. ”I just wanted you to feel good.”
Lan Wangji hums. ”I always feel good when I am with you,” he says.
Wei Ying lets out an ugly, wet snort. ”That’s a lie and we both know it.” He shifts as if to roll away but Lan Wangji doesn’t let him. Not like this.
”Not a lie,” he says quietly. ”Not in the way you think.”
”Then by all means, do elaborate.”
Lan Wangji sighs and thinks a moment, trying to arrange his thoughts into an order that makes sense to him and that will not push Wei Ying away. ”Whether the sensation itself is pleasant to me, I feel good if it makes you feel good.”
”That’s a horrible thing to say, Lan Zhan!”
He’s shaking his head even before Wei Ying has finished his protest. ”I enjoy giving you things you like.”
”But—!”
”If anything,” Lan Wangji says, interrupting him, ”—this made me wonder if you truly enjoy yourself or if you’re only saying that for my sake.”
That makes Wei Ying react. He pushes himself up to his arms to give Lan Wangji an incredulous stare. ”What the fuck, Lan Zhan?” he asks, bewildered. ”Of course I enjoy! Haven’t you heard me??”
Lan Wangji shrugs. ”You have a history of downplaying your hurts to make the other party feel better,” he points out gently.
”But not in this!” Wei Ying huffs.
He brushes a lock of hair from Wei Ying’s face. ”Would you tell me how it feels. Please.”
”I—,” Wei Ying frowns. ”Well…” he lets out a sigh and then flops on top of Lan Wangji. ”I can’t tell you these things if you look at me,” he mumbles into Lan Wangji’s skin.
”Then I will close my eyes,” he says calmly. It earns him exactly the snort he wanted and makes some tension leak out of Wei Ying’s frame.
”The first time it hurt,” Wei Ying starts. ”Back in the field? Because you just shoved it in—yes, I told you to, and yes I still liked it. But…” He falls silent for a moment, tracing circles onto Lan Wangji’s stomach with his fingers. ”I like the fullness,” he continues in an almost whisper. ”The feeling when you push in, when my body yields to you. It feels too much and not enough at the same time, never enough, even if you are really big, Lan Zhan.” He swallows and the small movement somehow makes Lan Wangji aware of how hot Wei Ying’s cheek is against his skin.
”I like the way you feel when you move inside me and when you hit that spot that makes my mind blank and everything white. When you’re so deep I can feel you through my stomach, I don’t have to think, I can just be yours, filled by you until I burst.”
Lan Wangji lets out a small hum. ”Is that the reason you want me to stay in after I finish?” he asks, tucking the knowledge close to his heart for later use.
”Yes,” Wei Ying says and then he wails, ”Lan Zhan! I can’t believe I said all that aloud.”
Lan Wangji cards his fingers carefully through Wei Ying’s hair, urging him to relax. The Jingshi is warm but a small tremor runs along Wei Ying, so he grabs the blanket and draws it over them.
”Thank you for telling me,” he says and stretches slightly to press a kiss on top of Wei Ying’s head. ”It eases my mind.”
”Why?” Wei Ying asks, sounding genuinely confused. ”What was it like for you then?”
”It was…” Lan Wangji hesitates. ”Intensely unpleasant,” he finally says slowly. ”It did not hurt but I found no pleasure in it either. The fullness you described reminded me of, well, bowel movement, and I cannot claim that to be in any way erotic.”
”Oh no,” Wei Ying says, sounding miserable. ”Why didn’t you stop me?”
Lan Wangji shrugs as best as he can while on his back. ”You liked it,” he says simply. ”I enjoyed watching you taking your pleasure in me.”
”But—”
”I do not regret it,” Lan Wangji interrupts firmly. ”I might not be eager to repeat the experience but I am glad you had it.”
Wei Ying acquiesces, presses close and grumbles something, then shifts so that he’s properly on top of Lan Wangji, tucking his face into the crook of his neck and sighing contentedly when Lan Wangji kisses his temple.
He’s about to fall asleep when Wei Ying softly asks, ”Then…how does it feel to you, being inside me?” and—Ah. Yes…Wei Ying is right, again: it’s beyond mortifying trying to verbalise the intense, searing pleasure of Wei Ying’s body.
”I always want to have you,” he starts slowly. ”Pushing into you, making space for myself is just a manifestation of that need. I want to crawl inside of you, spear you in me, swallow you whole—I want to make you mine and possess you inside out.” His hands spasm on Wei Ying’s hips, making him twitch. ”I want to see you writhing and suspended on the brink until you are out of breath, and I want to have you again and again and again so that we both forget all but each other’s names,” he continues in a low tone, almost a growl. ”I want to sink into your heat and taste your skin and sweat and tears, and I want to keep your spread out for my eyes for all times and—”
Wei Ying lets out a soft whimper. He’s hard against Lan Wangji’s thigh again, shuddering at the contact as he twitches slightly. When Lan Wangji nudges his head up, his eyes are blown dark and a lovely red hue stains his cheeks.
”I just felt awesome,” he pants. ”Like your mouth but better. Lan Zhan—!” His voice breaks in a whine and he grabs Lan Wangji’s shoulders and turns, opening his legs as he drags Lan Wangji on top of him. ”How can you say things like that—you shouldn’t—now I want—Lan Zhan, please—!”
Their habit of everyday means Wei Ying’s body needs little to no preparation before Lan Wangji slicks himself up and pushes in. Wei Ying opens beautifully, sighs with it, urging Lan Wangji along with quiet mewls and sobs until he’s as deep as he can go and then—
He stops.
Wei Ying is spread in front of him, shivering and trembling as he tries to plead him to continue. His hardness lies heavy and red against his stomach, leaking with every tiny movement Lan Wangji makes. It twitches when Lan Wangji presses his fingers into the silken skin right behind Wei Ying’s testicles.
Hm.
Lan Wangji directs a small pulse of spiritual energy through his fingers, making Wei Ying whimper.
Perhaps he’ll make Wei Ying come like this, buried to the hilt, manipulating his favorite spot from the outside. The thought makes him curl forward and clench his hand gripping Wei Ying’s thigh and he hisses when Wei Ying tightens around him.
Perhaps.
Or perhaps he’ll just fuck into him and then stays in until he’s ready to go again, until his spend leaks out of Wei Ying, until he’s barely conscious, until—
”Yes,” Wei Ying whispers, staring at him with half-slitted eyes that are all pupil. ”Whatever you’re thinking, Lan Zhan. Yes. Yes to all of it.”
”Wei Ying,” he gasps and closes his eyes.
Mine.
Wei Ying.
Oh, how I love you.
My Wei Ying.