[ closed post: the sun shines brightly ]

[lightbearinglord]

It has been a strange handful of weeks, but Lan Wangji can accept strange far more easily than he could accept the pain that rippled inexorably outward from Shen Yuan's death, seeming to leave no one untouched. The parade of visitors was unusual, and thought-provoking, but not painful. Lan Wangji enjoyed meeting most of them. Even Galahad, whose empty politeness made him feel hollow in turn -- there was a quiet satisfaction in bringing him to the rabbits and watching his stunned expression at the simple joy of holding something small and vulnerable and trusting.

As for himself, the memories are so abstract as to be incomprehensible. There is something there, enough something to assure him that Aornis had no hand in this specific strangeness. But he can barely grasp at the details. He remembers embracing Magnus, but that signifies nothing out of the ordinary. He remembers sparring with Gideon; he remembers that he needs to ask Sagramore for fresh poetry. He remembers the loss of Wei Ying, newer and crueler than it typically is these days, but when he came back to himself the next morning, Wei Ying was there, his head tucked beneath Lan Wangji's chin and his ankle hooked around Lan Wangji's hip.

The least enjoyable of his encounters, at the least, provided him with something important. He has not removed the locket from his qiankun pouch. He wants to waste no time in bringing it to its intended recipient. He performs the first of his morning routines -- his meditation, his patrol, Wei Ying's breakfast -- and then goes to look for Magnus at the camp.

Comments

[wwx_isdead]

When Lan Zhan returns home at the end of his day, he will find his husband diligently¹ copying a last few lines from the battered notebook that has not left his side for some months now. Wei Wuxian does not look up when Lan Zhan enters their rooms, but he doesn't need to in order to get a sense of him. He copies down another few characters and waits for what Lan Zhan does.

¹try not to faint

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji is not offended that Wei Ying doesn't look at him. He knows it is the same for them; when Wei Ying enters a room, the earth tilts around Lan Wangji to make his husband's presence known. He takes off his boots at the door, slides his feet into house slippers, and crosses to Wei Ying's desk. Bichen and Wangji fly to their respective places as he walks, losing the various weights of his day.

For a moment, he only watches over Wei Ying's shoulder. Wei Ying's handwriting is not as precise as his, but he likes it. He likes the life and energy he puts into every stroke, as if his mind moves so quickly that his brush can only just capture it. After that moment has passed, he puts a heavy hand at the back of Wei Ying's neck, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the slope where it becomes his shoulder. "Did you finish it?"

[wwx_isdead]

Wei Wuxian can't stop himself from leaning into Lan Zhan's touch, nor would he want to. He tilts his head to one side, offering himself up, but Lan Zhan's thumb has found exactly the spot it should, unerring as ever.

"Almost." Wei Wuxian inscribes two more characters, as neatly as he's capable of, and then it is, in fact, finished. "There."

[lightbearinglord]

Fond, Lan Wangji is silent again as he looks over the topmost paper on the desk. Because this entails only the end of the story, he can't get a sense of it in its entirety, but he can see that it has a happy ending. "When you put it in order, I will read it." With his free hand, he winds Wei Ying's ponytail around his hand and tips his head farther still, leaning down to kiss him upside-down.

[wwx_isdead]

Wei Wuxian could kiss Lan Zhan forever, in whatever position Lan Zhan wanted, but it's been too many hours since he's gotten to tease his husband and he can't help himself. "Lan Zhan, my neck."

[lightbearinglord]

"Mn." Promptly attentive, Lan Wangji proceeds to misinterpret Wei Ying on purpose, releasing his ponytail and dropping a kiss, with teeth, to his neck instead. He hides a smile there, bites his earlobe in turn, and then slips both hands down to squeeze his waist. "Galahad lent me his camera."

[wwx_isdead]

Is it a misinterpretation if it was exactly what Wei Wuxian wanted? That's a question for someone else, not Wei Wuxian, who wants to know: "What do you plan on doing with it?"

[lightbearinglord]

"Photographing you." Lan Wangji lets his hands settle at Wei Ying's waist, feeling the rise of his hipbones through his robes. It is a softer place to rest his palms than it once was, because Wei Ying eats for him. He thinks of telling Claudius how, after years of mourning, he could no longer recall Wei Ying's face; of Magnus' locket, his mother's face preserved with an accuracy no painter could manage. He may never recapture those fine details of Wei Ying's first body, not outside of the wispy quality of incense dreams, but Mo Xuanyu's delicate features belong to Wei Ying now. He wants to keep them. Aornis could wipe everything from his mind, but he believes with a steely certainty that if he pulled a photograph of Wei Ying from his sleeve and looked at his laughing mouth, his heart would squeeze tight with love and desire, even if he believed himself to be looking at a stranger.

[wwx_isdead]

Wei Wuxian, of course, understands. He reaches up so that his arms are around Lan Zhan's head, fingers meeting at the back to toy with his forehead ribbon. "Are you going to dress me up first?"

[lightbearinglord]

Some, but far from all, of the novelty has worn off of Wei Ying touching that ribbon so casually. Lan Wangji smiles again. "Mn." He could elaborate, but Wei Ying will fill the silence, and he has better things to do than talk. Promptly, he straightens, picks up Wei Ying, and crosses the room to deposit him on the bed so that he can turn to the nearest wardrobe and begin going through its contents.