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They don’t really celebrate birthdays. The turning of age is nothing more than a formality recorded for the books and small gestures from the family. The clan spends a small part of their morning together playing a musical round but nothing more than that. He’s 27 years old today, and the formality passes.
Except a small letter tells him to go to the cold springs after dinner. He recognizes the handwriting well, and it brings a smile to his lips. He makes sure all of his things are in order before setting out. As the beautiful little glade hidden in the mountains comes into view, he spots his brother lingering at the edge like a ghost wrapped in misty robes.
“Wangji,” he says, light and almost breathless. He sullies to his side and presses his head into his little brother’s chest. Lan Wangji puffs his cheeks and hugs him, one hand coming up to gently squeeze his head.
“Xiongzhang has worked hard. Now, he’s old.”
Lan Xichen gasps and pulls away, affronted as he glares at Lan Wangji’s smug smirk. He quickly remedies his statement. “I am joking. But, I do have a gift for you.”
“A gift?”
“Mn.” Lan Wangji pulls something out of his sleeve, and Lan Xichen locks onto the object in his hand. It’s an ornate collar fashioned from expertly worked leather dyed a pristine white. The engraving of a dragon wraps around the whole thing, spines along the back embedded with little gems. Lan Xichen takes it into his hands, and the feeling is soothing against his skin. He can’t hide his joy when he flips it and sees ‘I belong to didi’ stitched along the inner seam.
He looks to his little brother with a soft gaze. “Help me put it on?”
Lan Wangji nods and buckles it around his throat. He tightens it just enough that when he swallows, the collar grazes his throat. It’s a beautiful piece nestled under the collar of his robe. It’s no grand piece like the Jin or a statement of strength like the Nie, but it’s subtle enough to suit his noble stature.
“Thank you,” he whispers. Lan Xichen pulls his brother into a kiss. Lan Wangji sighs pleasantly.
“Xiongzhang looks good with it.”
Lan Xichen goes to the water’s edge and sits down, inviting Lan Wangji to join him. He plops down and reaches around to grab the collar, pulling it so Lan Xichen is leaning over his torso. He chuckles and lets go. Lan Xichen quirks a brow at the sudden movement.
“What was that?” he asks. Lan Wangji shrugs and bashfully turns away. The setting sun perfectly highlights his flushing ears.
“I was right,” he muses. “You look very good with it. Next time we meet in the bedroom, we should use it.”
Lan Xichen’s thoughts immediately diverge into naughty territories. He sharply inhales as he tries to bury them deep. It’s a good idea, and Lan Xichen wants it so. But for now, they have neither the time nor ample opportunity. Less than an incense time is left and soon, Lan Wangji will need to grade papers, and Lan Xichen needs to respond to sect inquiries.
But, the collar is a reminder for both of them. No matter where Lan Xichen goes, he belongs to Lan Wangji. For now, that is enough. Their love has no bounds except a promise to claim.