Work Text:
Weightless.
He knew that’s what the feeling was called. He knew he had felt it before. But it had been so long. Like an old friend met after a long absence, the longer he spent soaking in the feeling the more it felt familiar. His eyes were closed but rather than the oppressive black that had been choking him for so long, he was basking in an orangey red glow.
Lan Xichen was feeling a curious mix of fuzzy indistinction and hyperawareness. As if only the coarse grass tickling his bare back was the only thing keeping him grounded. Sunlight dappled through the trees. Warmth spreading across his over skin. Distantly he could hear the cold waters of Gusu trickling past the smooth river rocks. Even in the warmth of late summer he knew the water would be cold.
Dimly he knew he should be ashamed. The illustrious Zewu-Jun did not sprawl out naked outside.
But he wasn’t Zewu-Jun right now. He wasn’t anyone. He was simply a consciousness living in a brief moment of pleasure. Zewu-Jun wasn’t weightless or satiated. Zewu-Jun was locked away in seclusion, alone and immersed in his grief. He did have the courage to step over the threshold.
The orange glow behind his eyelids dimmed. But this wasn’t Zewu-Jun’s darkness.
Delicate strands of hair tickled his nose, and he opened his eyes in surprise. For a moment, his brain struggled to process the picture. Then he found those stormy eyes and he smiled.
The same stormy eyes that had flashed in defiance when he told him he couldn’t come out. The eyes that had hardened and challenged him, beckoned him closer and then softened when he did. The eyes that glazed over in lust and fluttered in ecstasy. They were as ever changing as the rivers that flowed down the mountain he called home—sometimes brimming with power and depth, and other times a delicate trickle.
Now they were coy, flashing with something Lan Xichen didn’t quite recognize, but knew he wanted to.
They closed as Jiang Cheng’s lips dropped to his own. It was a strange angle, and the way noses bumped into chins made them both laugh. Neither pulled their lips away, breathing laughter against their kiss.
Jiang Cheng smelled like the earth and like him. A musty mix that reminded Lan Xichen of the things they had done only moments before. His strong hand, the one capable of wielding Zidian and of bringing Lan Xichen to his knees, gently caressed his cheek. The callouses from years of holding weapons a sharp contrast to the satin ribbon wrapped around his wrist.
The color drew Lan Xichen’s attention. How many times had he seen it? Reflected in mirrors just resting above his brows or its tails catching the wind as he rode his sword. He had never considered what it would look like on someone else. But the moment Jiang Cheng smiled at him shyly, his long hair falling in a traveling braid over his shoulder, he knew that his ribbon no longer belonged to him.
Lan Xichen had simply been holding onto it, a temporary place while it sought out its true home. Jiang Cheng had been silent while Lan Xichen twined the slick fabric around his wrist, eyes heavy lidded before he twined the remaining length of ribbon between their fingers. There it stayed, witness to a union Lan Xichen didn’t think was possible but now knew was inevitable.
Jiang Cheng’s kisses grew more insistent, his strong hands angling Lan Xichen’s chin so he could lick into his mouth. It wasn’t right and Lan Xichen grabbed him, flipping them so he was blanketing his body. He didn’t bother to hold his weight off Jiang Cheng. He was strong and solid, demanding in the way he wanted every bit of exposed skin to touch.
Without shame, Jiang Cheng parted his lips and licked into Lan Xichen’s mouth. Deepening their kiss, soft noises of desire and impatience muting the gentle sounds of nature.
“Sect Leader Jiang.”
Jiang Cheng huffed impatiently, lifting a brow. “Sect Leader Lan.”
Lan Xichen had to resist the urge to smile. “Again?”
“Again.”