Wei Wuxian opens his eyes. He gazes upwards, and lifts a hand to block the sun. The light leaking through the magnolia flowers and branches is starting to be a familiar sight in these incense dreams. Not that he's complaining.
He hears laughter ringing out to his right. He looks over. “The library pavilion again?” He shakes his head, getting up and dusting his black robes off. He stretches from side to side. “Hanguang-jun, Hanguang-jun, you really can’t bear to leave my younger self alone, can you?” He walks over, then hops up the stairs and into the building.
Wei Wuxian peeks in at the threshold. Sure enough, his younger self is teasing Lan Zhan, leaning in far too close as always.
As he watches the scene unfold, Wei Wuxian’s eyes shine with recognition. It’s been a while since they’ve used the incense burner, and a longer while still since they’ve shared this particular dream. Young Lan Zhan has just stood up in indignation, book flying out of his hands with a clatter. A familiar pattern of cackling accompanied by “I’m here! I’m here!” rings through the room.
He murmurs to himself. “This is the same dream as before, but Lan Zhan isn’t with me this time… which means…” Wei Wuxian’s eyes widen as he stares at the younger Lan Zhan drawing his sword.
They fight. Wei Ying’s sword flies out the window. He’s pinned down, wrists tied without a moment of hesitation. A pretty blue against his thin skin.
Wei Wuxian touches his own wrist. “I almost forgot about that part,” he murmurs, the corner of his lips twitching up in amusement, already thinking up ways to tease Lan Zhan about it.
He hears his own laughter cut off in a gasp. He knows Lan Zhan has just pushed his hand down, lithe fingers wrapping around his younger self through the cloth. He shivers a little at the thought. He shakes his head and steps over the threshold to reveal his presence, crossing his arms.
“Who says I don’t understand?” Lan Zhan says coldly.
“That’s right, who says you don’t?” Wei Wuxian interjects.
Lan Zhan startles at the voice. He glances out of the corner of his eye, and freezes.
His younger self takes advantage of Lan Zhan’s distraction and manages to throw him off by kicking him square in the chest. Lan Zhan stumbles back with a wheezing grunt, landing on his ass. Wei Wuxian can hardly hold back his laughter—it’s the most inelegant sound he’s ever heard Lan Zhan emit, likely only possible because he’s been doubly caught off guard, by two of him no less.
Wei Ying scrambles away, sliding on his back until he hits the low table he had been copying the sect rules on. He pushes himself against it to sit up. “What the hell are you doing, Lan Zhan! Are you mad?” When there’s no reply, he shouts again. “Lan Zhan! How can you ignore me after what you just did! And you call me shameless! … Lan Zhan!” Indignant that Lan Zhan isn’t even looking at him anymore, Wei Ying traces his line of sight. His eyes finally land on his older counterpart, and widen in shock.
“W-What…” His mouth flutters open and closed like a dying fish. He points shakily with two hands, still joined at the wrist. For the first time in his life, Wei Ying has been rendered utterly speechless.
Wei Wuxian’s brows furrow. His younger self can see him too? Thus far, the incense burner has never allowed a creation bound by the dream to perceive an intruder’s presence, even if they were a copy of the original. Lan Zhan confirmed it in his last dream—no one heard Chenqing except for Lan Zhan himself.
But he supposes he can work with this, too. His face grows thoughtful. Might even make things more fun.
The two stare at him as he walks over, sitting himself down on Lan Zhan’s table. He pulls Chenqing out of his waistband and twirls it. He feigns boredom.
It’s silent for a few seconds, when Wei Wuxian suddenly asks, “Did you like it when he touched you?”
“I—what?” Wei Ying turns red. Lan Zhan looks away.
“Don’t lie,” Wei Wuxian warns, pointing Chenqing at him. “And don’t hurt people with carelessly chosen words! Think carefully before you speak!”
“I—” Wei Ying shakes his head. “Why are you asking me something like that! Just who are you?”
“Can’t you tell? Just look at me. I’m your future self!”
However impossible this statement is, they can’t deny that the person in front of them looks just like an older version of Wei Ying.
“I’m sure you’re curious, so I’ll tell you. Life’s pretty great now, honestly. Fighting yaoguai, drinking Emperor’s Smile, eating good food. But the best part is that Lan Zhan and I are helplessly in love!”
“You’d do well to take your own advice. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Wei Wuxian looks across the room at Lan Zhan. They’re the first words he has spoken to him since he’s appeared. Lan Zhan says it through his teeth, looking down at the ground.
Wei Wuxian pouts. “I’m hurt, Lan Zhan. We’re married and you still think I don’t mean it?”
Lan Zhan’s head jerks up. “What did you say?”
“Married! We’re fuqi!”
“Fuqi??” they both echo in unison, incredulously.
Wei Wuxian continues, standing up. “I’m just here to make sure that this Wei Ying is well-prepared to become your husband, Lan Zhan.” He smiles sweetly at Wei Ying.
As Wei Wuxian strides towards him, Wei Ying yells, “What are you trying to do! Stay away!”
He throws the book on the ground near him at Wei Wuxian. It bounces off harmlessly, and, of course, lands on the same delightfully graphic page as last time. Wei Wuxian strolls lazily towards it, allowing him enough time to stare and flush, before bending down and picking it up.
He nonchalantly flips through some of the pages. “Beautiful artistry, really. Lan Zhan, you always did have good taste. But no need to consult these,” Wei Ying says, throwing the book over his shoulder. “You’ve got an expert right here!” he says, jabbing the center of his chest with his thumb. He winks at Lan Zhan, who continues staring at him, barely even reacting to his declaration.
Wei Ying splutters. “An expert? In… How could you… I… be…” His eyes widen in slow realization.
Wei Wuxian continues. “Lan Zhan is quite the expert as well, though at this age his knowledge is still purely theoretical, of course. But don’t worry,” he says, smirking, “we’ll be putting some of these techniques into practice very soon.
“After all, Lan Zhan, you’ve already gone ahead with the hand-fasting!” He claps his hands together in faux-delight. “Of course the honorable Hanguang-jun would do things in the proper order!”
Lan Zhan’s ears are flaming red, while Wei Ying’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. Ah, Wei Wuxian thinks. He must not know the meaning behind the forehead ribbon yet.
Wei Ying tenses as Wei Wuxian takes another step towards him, looking ready to bolt. Wei Wuxian pauses, tapping his nose, as Wei Ying looks warily up at him.
Maybe I shouldn’t shock my younger self too much yet, he thinks. He really might run away.
He turns around. “Why don’t we try practicing together first, Lan Zhan? Kissing, perhaps? Give him a demonstration.”
“Kissing?” Wei Ying squeaks. “Lan Zhan?”
“As they say, ‘A gentleman uses his tongue instead of his fists.’” Wei Ying blushes as he recalls his own words being used in such a way.
Wei Wuxian strides over to Lan Zhan, stepping over and straddling him in one fluid motion. Lan Zhan looks shocked, bursting at the seams with the need to call him shameless. Instead, however, his hands instinctively wrap around Wei Wuxian’s waist. He stares down at them, disbelieving. What a betrayal. Must be a remnant of his Lan Zhan deep in his subconscious. Smirking, Wei Wuxian drapes his arms over Lan Zhan’s shoulders. He looks into his eyes for a moment, heavily lidded, before slowly pushing their lips together, wet and open. Lan Zhan freezes, at first, but soon reciprocates. Wei Wuxian makes a surprised but happy noise when Lan Zhan roughly tugs him closer. Wei Wuxian grinds on him appreciatively, which sends Lan Zhan gasping into his mouth.
Breathing heavily, Wei Wuxian breaks off the kiss to whisper conspiratorially into Lan Zhan’s ear. “Lan Zhan! You’re already hard from before, aren’t you? Just from thinking about raping that poor boy over there?” The ear grows hot with humiliation against his mouth, and he gently scrapes it between his teeth.
Wei Wuxian rises up on his knees and gently pushes Lan Zhan back so that he’s leaning against his elbows. He unties and shrugs off his own outer robes, leaving only red. He catches Wei Ying’s eye, and smirks. “Oh? Are we jealous?” Wei Ying immediately turns away, blushing furiously, but Wei Wuxian knows himself. Wei Ying will start staring again as soon as he thinks no one is looking.
Wei Wuxian scoots backwards and settles between Lan Zhan’s legs. As he begins to hike up Lan Zhan’s robes, a hand grabs his wrist, vicelike. Lan Zhan is sitting up again, back ramrod straight, staring directly at him.
There is the slightest bit of strain, of pleading, behind Lan Zhan’s voice. This Lan Zhan, who had been so unhinged in his plan to take his younger self without remorse just earlier, was now as conflicted as he would’ve been in reality. When Wei Wuxian meets his gaze, he’s caught off guard by how easy it is for him to read younger Lan Zhan, now. His eyes swirl with the conflicting emotions—lust and restraint, desire and confusion. The deep longing of an unrequited, unrecognized love, and a deep fear of loss. To lose control would be to lose him. Wei Wuxian’s heart jolts.
Wei Wuxian places a gentle hand on Lan Zhan’s wrist. He slides his thumb over it softly.
“Nothing you can do will hurt me. I want all of you. Do you trust me when I say that?” he says quietly. Surprise flickers through Lan Zhan’s eyes. He hesitates for a long moment, still staring, perhaps searching. Wei Wuxian gazes back softly. Finally, Lan Zhan slowly releases his grip on him.
Wei Wuxian smiles softly up at him, then gently unties and opens Lan Zhan’s robes at the waist. He looks down and exhales deeply. Wei Wuxian never ceases to marvel at the sheer size of his husband, clearly outlined against his trousers, the head already peeking out at the top. He traces his fingers over it through the fabric. There’s a harsh intake of breath in response.
He slips his fingers beneath the waistband, and Lan Zhan lets him take off his trousers. Wei Wuxian takes Lan Zhan’s cock in his hand. The tip of his tongue darts out, licking his upper lip in anticipation. As he flips his ponytail over his shoulder, he sees Wei Ying looking again. Their eyes meet. This time, Wei Ying doesn’t turn away. Without breaking eye contact, Wei Wuxian slowly leans down and takes Lan Zhan in his mouth.
He is determined to make a show of it, to make the experience especially sensual for both parties—his recipient and his voyeur. He licks up the side, then hovers over it, dripping saliva down his tongue directly onto the cock. He slowly smears the spit with his hand, caressing up and down the length. He swirls his tongue around the tip, then takes him in his mouth again. He hollows his cheeks and sucks with delightful noises, and strokes in time with the bobbing of his head.
He lifts off with a pop, then settles down, lying his head sideways in the crook of Lan Zhan’s hip. His lips brush lazily against Lan Zhan’s cock. “Lan Zhan, you taste so good,” he slurs against it. It twitches against his mouth, making him smile. He nips at it in return.
His eyes flicker over towards Wei Ying. His younger self looks uncomfortably aroused, flushing. His lips are slightly parted, and his legs are drawn up, toes curled.
Smug, he turns his focus back to Lan Zhan’s cock. He starts licking it again, occasionally sucking with a noise that he knows will make Wei Ying even redder—and perhaps harder—than he already is.
With Wei Ying taken care of, he can now focus on winning over this Lan Zhan as well. By now, his Lan Zhan would—at the very least—be gripping his hair, and if Wei Wuxian teased him well enough, even jerking up into his mouth. But so far, Lan Zhan hasn’t tried to touch him once. In fact, he’s been strangely silent.
He looks up to see Lan Zhan biting his own hand to keep from making a sound, eyes tightly closed. He is most definitely reciting the sect rules to keep himself occupied.
Wei Wuxian frowns. He must do better to break Lan Zhan’s control.
He threads his arms under and around Lan Zhan’s thighs, gripping his hips to anchor himself. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick all the way up Lan Zhan’s cock, then deepthroats him in one go. The feeling when Lan Zhan hits the back of his throat is so satisfying, as is the strangled noise that finally escapes him. He can feel Lan Zhan trying to get away, and grips him tighter. He holds Lan Zhan in him for a few seconds, until his eyes sting with tears, then releases with an obscenely wet noise.
“You liked that, huh? Are you finally being honest with me?” Wei Wuxian says, panting, looking up. Lan Zhan’s golden eyes are at long last trained on him. Wei Wuxian goes down again, gagging slightly, and Lan Zhan’s neck arches as he gasps, a breathless “Wei Ying” escaping his lips. An electric thrill runs down Wei Wuxian’s spine. Lan Zhan tries again to push him away, weaker this time, but Wei Wuxian only curls in further towards Lan Zhan. He forces Lan Zhan’s entire length down his throat again and again, a little further each time. Lungs screaming with the need to breathe, Wei Wuxian finally lets it fall out of his mouth with a desperate gasp, coughing.
He catches his breath for a few seconds, then wipes spit from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Lan Zhan’s breaths are heavy, shaking, which makes him smirk in satisfaction. He’s about to direct it towards Lan Zhan when he feels the familiar sting of his hair being roughly pulled, then the harsh ache of his jaw being stretched and filled once more.
He chokes. Or rather, is choked, repeatedly. Hands shoving him down, hips thrusting up. Lan Zhan fucks his mouth, his throat. Uses him. There’s no semblance of technique, just a pure chase to orgasm. The panic rising in Wei Wuxian is similarly animal—the need to breathe, the need to escape. He cannot stop his throat from clenching, which only makes him gag harder. Lan Zhan moans, does nothing to stifle it now. Wei Wuxian’s nails dig into Lan Zhan’s thighs, and tears begin running down in earnest. This time, he is the one trying to push away, but Lan Zhan’s grip is unrelenting. Still, adrenaline rushes through him, the exhilaration of being used so thoroughly.
Hot semen shoots out, stimulating his gag reflex until he feels like he’s suffocating. Lan Zhan’s hold finally relaxes with his last spurts, and Wei Wuxian’s head jerks off of him.
He collapses in a fit of retching and gasping, each fighting for dominance. Saliva and come spill out from his mouth, dripping onto the floor, a little flecking his red underrobe. He trembles, drawing ragged breaths in between bouts of coughing.
“Wei Ying.” He feels a warm hand on his back, and he looks up to see Lan Zhan kneeling next to him, looking alarmed. “Are you alright? I…”
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to reassure him, only to fall back into a fit of coughing when he tries to speak. Lan Zhan’s hand loses contact as Wei Wuxian leans forward, and it hovers over him, uncertain. When Wei Wuxian sits back up, he withdraws his hand into his lap.
Lan Zhan’s lips are pursed. He is not looking at him, but Wei Wuxian can see the fear and anger in his eyes.
After a moment, Lan Zhan says, “I lost control. I’m sorry.”
Wei Wuxian takes his face in both hands. Lan Zhan flinches slightly, surprised by the easy contact. He avoids eye contact at first, but Wei Wuxian tilts and turns his head left and right until Lan Zhan gives in and meets his eyes. Wei Wuxian’s eyes light up at the success, then soften. “Don’t make that kind of sad face. I told you already, didn’t I? I will take everything you give me.” He strokes a thumb across his cheekbone. “There’s no need for you to apologize to me. There will never be a need to do so.”
Suddenly, it registers that his hands might have some unsavory bodily fluids on them. “Ah, sorry Lan Zhan, I’m touching your face with my gross hands.” He starts to pull away, but Lan Zhan takes them both in his own hands, not letting them leave.
“Wei Ying is never dirty,” he asserts firmly.
Wei Wuxian smiles. “Silly boy.”
They stay like that for a moment, then Wei Wuxian suddenly recalls his motives.
“Ah, we seem to have forgotten someone.” They both turn to look at Wei Ying, who doesn’t seem to be paying attention to them. He seems to be shivering.
“Let me,” Wei Wuxian says. He lands a peck on Lan Zhan’s lips, and hops to his feet.
He crosses the room and looks down at Wei Ying. His eyes are unfocused and glazed over. His bound hands are pressed against his parted lips, the pale skin a clear contrast to his flushed cheeks. It’s clear that he’s trying to control his breaths, but they still come out ragged pants.
Wei Ying’s eyes barely meet Wei Wuxian’s when he reaches down to touch him. Wei Wuxian jerks his hand back in surprise. He looks down at Wei Ying properly. His trousers are wet, stained.
“Did you… come already?” Wei Wuxian asks, incredulous. “Did you even touch yourself?” He reaches back and wraps his hand around Wei Ying’s painfully hard cock.
Wei Ying arches back and whines, gasping into his hands. “No… Don’t touch… I’ll—”
“You’re still hard, too. Did watching Lan Zhan fuck my throat turn you on this much? Little whore,” Wei Wuxian growls. He tightens his grip. Wei Ying makes a choked noise. “Was it like watching yourself? Did you want to be in my place?” Tears threaten at the corners of Wei Ying’s eyes. He squeezes them shut and shakes his head adamantly, even as he gasps again when Wei Wuxian’s thumb strokes across the head.
Wei Wuxian purses his lips. He takes his hand off of Wei Ying, whose hips try to chase the touch. Wei Ying whimpers. His bound hands reach shakily towards Wei Wuxian.
He ignores them. “You said not to touch. If you want something, you’ll have to tell me what it is more clearly.”
“I…” His eyes are pleading. Wei Wuxian only watches him coldly and waits. Wei Ying closes his eyes.
“I want you to touch me,” he whispers. “And… ”
A tear runs down his face. “I want… I want L-Lan Zhan,” he breathes.
A gentle hand smooths the hairs on the top of his head. Wei Ying opens his eyes to a kind, satisfied smile on Wei Wuxian’s face. “Guai haizi. What an obedient child.”
Wei Wuxian turns his head. “Lan Zhan, your Wei Ying is calling for you,” he calls cheerily over his shoulder.
Lan Zhan appears next to Wei Wuxian. Upon seeing Lan Zhan, Wei Ying’s eyes widen and his face flushes further. He tries to cover his face with his arms. Wei Wuxian licks his lips. How cute was he. No wonder Lan Zhan could hardly resist.
“I didn’t hear him say it.”
“What?” Wei Wuxian says.
“I didn’t hear him say it,” Lan Zhan repeats. He turns to Wei Ying with a piercing look. “I want to hear it. What did you say, Wei Ying?”
Wei Ying laughs nervously as he meets Lan Zhan’s eyes beneath his arms. When he realizes he’s serious, he blanches a bit. “Lan Zhan! You’re going to make me say it again?” he says indignantly. When Lan Zhan doesn’t respond, Wei Ying wails. “This is cruel! I refuse!”
“I want to hear you say it. Preferably with some enthusiasm.” Lan Zhan says again, calmly. His eyes glint slightly. “I will not touch you without your consent.”
Wei Wuxian’s mouth drops. Did a little bit of his Lan Zhan leak into his younger dream consciousness? When they make eye contact, Lan Zhan holds his gaze steadily. He almost bursts out laughing, holds it in just barely with a hand covering his mouth, body shaking slightly.
Wei Ying is too busy having his own crisis to notice. His eyes are squeezed shut again. Finally, having seemed to muster the courage, he blurts out, “Fine! Lan Zhan! I want you to touch me! Is that good enough for you!”
Lan Zhan turns back to Wei Ying. He smiles softly. Wei Ying’s eyes widen.
He leans down and kisses him. Even with such a gentle kiss, Wei Ying is practically panting again when their lips part.
“Lan Zhan… touch me… ” he whispers. Lan Zhan’s eyes flare.
Lan Zhan parts Wei Ying’s robes so that it falls open, baring his chest and abdomen. He slips one hand under his waistband, while the other teases a nipple. He kisses him again. Wei Ying moans into it as Lan Zhan teases his wet cock. Soon, Wei Ying can’t seem to focus on moving his lips anymore. His mouth grows slack against the corner of Lan Zhan’s own and his breaths grow irregular.
Lan Zhan stops and lets go. Wei Ying’s eyes open wide and desperate, his breaths even faster than before. He can barely speak. “Lan Zhan,” he begs as he tries to grab his wrist and put his hand back. “Lan Zhan,” he breathes.
“Not yet,” Lan Zhan says. He pushes himself up. Wei Ying tries to follow, but Lan Zhan places a hand on his chest to keep him lying on the floor. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Wei Ying’s pants, and Wei Ying lifts his hips in immediate understanding.
When Wei Ying’s trousers are off, he turns to see Wei Wuxian’s hand down his own pants, lazily stroking himself. He blushes and turns away in embarrassment. Wei Wuxian snorts at the reaction, but takes his hand out of his pants.
“You’re still embarrassed, even after all that?”
“Bizui,” he says, still not looking at him. “Shut up.”
Wei Wuxian laughs.
“Wei Ying.” They both look at Lan Zhan, but he’s holding a hand out to the older Wei Wuxian. As Wei Wuxian takes it, Wei Ying almost looks jealous.
He’s about to turn away with a petty scowl when he sees Wei Wuxian open his mouth, tongue slightly out. Wei Wuxian brings Lan Zhan’s hand up and licks up his palm, then inserts three fingers into his mouth. Wei Ying stares as Wei Wuxian moans against Lan Zhan’s fingers.
Sufficiently wet, Wei Wuxian releases his fingers with one last lick. He threads his right arm around Lan Zhan’s middle to pull their bodies flush against each other. His legs cradle Lan Zhan’s, and he rests his chin on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. He smirks at Wei Ying, who does turn away with a scowl this time.
“Seriously?” he says. “Jealous of yourself?” Wei Ying only huffs in response.
He places a kiss against Lan Zhan’s neck. His arms tighten around his waist. “You know exactly how to do it, right Lan Zhan? Open me,” Wei Wuxian breathes, nose nuzzling against Lan Zhan’s ear. Lan Zhan’s breathing grows heavy again.
Lan Zhan’s hand shakes ever so slightly as it reaches towards Wei Ying. He presses softly against the ring of tight flesh. Wei Ying’s body jerks at the touch, but Lan Zhan follows the movement.
Wei Ying looks up at Lan Zhan frantically. “Wait, where are you touching—” His legs close reflexively. Wei Wuxian untangles himself from Lan Zhan to wrench Wei Ying’s knees back apart. “Stop, what are you—” Lan Zhan begins massaging his hole. It tightens at first, but slowly loosens.
Lan Zhan pushes a finger in, slick with Wei Wuxian’s saliva. Wei Ying makes a choked gasp at the intrusion. Wei Wuxian tightens his grip as he squirms, trying to kick back at them. As Lan Zhan begins sliding in and out in a slow rhythm, Wei Ying’s noises grow higher in pitch.
“Lan Zhan, don’t—it feels weird—” Lan Zhan adds another finger. His back arches.
After a while, Wei Ying’s stifled sounds begin to sound less like resistance and more like moans of pleasure. Wei Wuxian slowly lets go of Wei Ying’s legs. He doesn’t seem to notice. His legs now twitch and jerk out in response to Lan Zhan’s fingers, rather than in an attempt to escape.
Wei Wuxian moves to kneel next to Lan Zhan. He licks his own finger, then reaches over to cup the back of Lan Zhan’s hand. After a moment, Wei Wuxian inserts his under Lan Zhan’s. Sensing the increased stretch, Wei Ying looks over. His cock twitches when he realizes both of them are inside him, and he tightens around their fingers.
“Am I good, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian whispers into Lan Zhan’s ear as they push their fingers in and out.
Lan Zhan presses harder into Wei Ying in response. His eyelids flutter.
Wei Wuxian, of course, knows exactly what he likes. He starts leading, going at a faster rhythm, and deeper. Both their fingers press against his prostate each time, massaging it. Wei Ying writhes on the floor beneath their hands, panting.
“I think he’s ready, don’t you?” Wei Wuxian says pleasantly.
They both take their fingers out at the same time. Wei Ying whines, then looks towards them, teary-eyed. Lan Zhan leans over him and kisses the salty corners of his eyes.
When Lan Zhan moves to kneel back again, Wei Ying quickly grabs the front of his robe to pull him back down into a kiss. It quickly becomes deeper, more aggressive than last time.
They part, panting. Lan Zhan puts his hand on Wei Ying’s, which are still tightly gripping onto the front of his robe. They slowly loosen. Lan Zhan leans down to kiss his wrists where they are still bound with the Lan ribbon. Wei Ying shivers.
Lan Zhan sits back on his heels to remove his robes. Wei Ying freezes.
“W-Wait, Lan Zhan.” His voice is practically an octave higher than usual. “Where do you think you’re about to put that thing?!” His bound wrists block entry to his ass.
“Looks like you know exactly where he’s going to put it,” Wei Wuxian says dryly.
Wei Ying ignores him and keeps protesting. “There are only so many new experiences a man can take in one sitting! Can’t we save this for later? I just need time to prepare! Mentally!”
He scrambles backwards. Lan Zhan roughly pulls his legs back towards him.
“I have confidence in Wei Ying’s ability to take it. Both mentally and physically.”
“There’s no way! It’s too big! I’ll break!” he wails. “Have merc—mn!” Wei Ying’s eyes widen with panic. “Mm, mnn!”
Wei Wuxian looks up at Lan Zhan in surprise. “Really, Lan Zhan?”
“Noise is prohibited.”
Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. When Wei Ying tries to push himself away again, Wei Wuxian plops himself onto his torso to stop him, as if he were sitting side-saddle on Little Apple. When Wei Ying tries to land a hit, Wei Wuxian doesn’t even need to look to catch both wrists with one hand, and in one smooth movement, pins them to the ground above his head. His face hovers inches from Wei Ying’s. They stare at each other for a moment.
Then, Wei Wuxian leans down even closer. “Resisting only makes it more fun, you know,” Wei Wuxian whispers into his younger self’s ear, mouth brushing against the cartilage. “Give in. You’ll realize how good you can feel down there right away. I promise.”
Wei Ying slowly stops struggling underneath him. He looks up with pleading eyes. “Good boy,” Wei Wuxian says, running a finger down his cheek. He shivers.
Wei Wuxian lets go of him and stands up, sitting himself atop the table he used to copy the sect rules on, just above Wei Ying’s supine form. He sets one leg on the table, leaning his arm against it. “Do whatever you want with me, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan pushes Wei Ying’s legs apart. The head of his cock nudges Wei Ying’s entrance. He whimpers. His legs weakly try to resist again, but they hardly move under Lan Zhan’s sturdy hands. Wei Wuxian’s heart pumps faster in excitement. He leans in, watching.
Lan Zhan pushes in. An agonized moan, a mix of pain and pleasure, escapes Wei Ying’s throat as he enters. Lan Zhan rocks into him, slow and gentle. Wei Ying exhales harshly with every insertion.
When Lan Zhan leans over, bending him to reach even deeper, Wei Ying hooks his legs around Lan Zhan’s waist. Lan Zhan pauses in surprise, looking down at him. Wei Ying raises his hands upwards, and Lan Zhan leans down, putting his head through. Wei Ying’s arms rest on his shoulders. Lan Zhan kisses his neck.
“Looks like he wants more,” Wei Wuxian interjects wryly, leaning his chin on his hand.
Lan Zhan glances back at Wei Wuxian.
Then he rams into him.
“That’s more like it,” Wei Wuxian calls out over Wei Ying’s moans, loud even when muffled by the silencing spell. He cups a hand around his mouth to amplify his voice. “Even I was getting frustrated watching the two of you making love.”
Lan Zhan kisses all over Wei Ying’s skin, bites it. Wei Ying’s moans get louder and louder, until suddenly, his voice bursts through.
“Mmm, mn—ah, gege, so deep, fuck, so good, ah!”
His words seem to flip a switch in Lan Zhan’s mind.
“Turn around,” he growls.
“Huh?” Wei Ying says blearily, in a daze. “Why’d you stop?”
When he doesn’t move, Lan Zhan takes his cock out and roughly flips him. Wei Ying grunts. He tries to get up, but Lan Zhan pushes his hand down on Wei Ying’s upper back, and he collapses onto his arms, cheek pressing into the floor. He pulls Wei Ying’s hips up towards him, and pushes back in.
“Aaaah!” Wei Ying moans. He reddens when he realizes how loud he is, having been fully relying on the spell to quell his volume. Lan Zhan grunts as he tightens. With some difficulty, he manages to slide his arms up to muffle his voice in his sleeve as Lan Zhan thrusts into him.
Wei Wuxian walks over in front of Wei Ying’s form, rocking forward and back. He squats in front of him. Wei Ying’s head is now turned to the side, jaw slack and eyes glazed over again in ecstasy.
He obediently struggles to push himself up with his bound hands, getting to his elbows even with Lan Zhan pounding into him. His arms tremble.
Wei Wuxian shifts to a kneeling position, and traces a hand up Wei Ying’s throat, to cup his jaw. Lifts it higher. Wei Ying looks up at him.
Wei Wuxian doesn’t give him a chance to respond before he pushes his cock into Wei Ying’s mouth. There’s a small muffled sound of surprise, but soon Wei Ying relaxes his jaw, letting it in and out. He looks directly at him. Wei Wuxian doesn’t move, instead feels every time Lan Zhan slams into Wei Ying. He exhales shakily.
He lightly holds Wei Ying’s throat, along his Adam’s apple. “How do you like being filled from both ends?”
His tongue licks around his cock in response. Wei Wuxian hisses involuntarily. A smug look of satisfaction flickers in Wei Ying’s eyes.
In retaliation, Wei Wuxian pulls his ponytail back, and Wei Ying gasps off of his cock. Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan make eye contact. Lan Zhan reaches under Wei Ying and lifts him, eliciting a surprised noise. He sits on Lan Zhan’s lap, cock still buried in him.
“No… This position… He can see everything…” Wei Ying feebly pushes against Lan Zhan, but Lan Zhan only slides his hand under a thigh and opens him wider. His other hand snakes across his chest and up around his throat.
Wei Wuxian takes Wei Ying in hand and leans close. “As if it doesn’t turn you on when you know someone is watching,” Wei Wuxian whispers, taunting. Wei Ying’s cock twitches in his hand. Wei Wuxian smiles to himself and lets go.
Lan Zhan starts moving again. With the sound of skin slapping skin, watching Wei Ying’s cock bouncing up and down with each thrust, Wei Wuxian himself could come on the spot. He’s impressed that Wei Ying has held out for so long.
Wei Wuxian leans into Wei Ying again, this time pressing his own cock to his, gripping them both in his hand. He wraps his other arm around Lan Zhan’s shoulder, squeezing the three of them together. Lan Zhan’s breath grows unsteady when he sees what Wei Wuxian is doing. He drives into Wei Ying harder, which slides their cocks together. They both moan simultaneously, at the same frequency.
Wei Ying sloppily pushes his mouth into Wei Wuxian’s, moaning into the kiss as Lan Zhan bites down on his shoulder. Wei Wuxian is taken aback, but quickly deepens it. He strokes them both faster as their tongues grow desperate.
Wei Ying breaks off the kiss, panting hard. “I can’t, I need to, ah, aaah!”
Wei Wuxian covers their cocks so that Wei Ying’s come hits the palm of his hand and drips down the sides. He continues to drag Wei Ying’s dripping cock through his fingers alongside his own. Lan Zhan also slams into him harder, more irregularly. Wei Ying keens from overstimulation. Wei Wuxian watches them both hungrily, breathing hard.
Finally, Lan Zhan pulls Wei Ying’s hips down in one final slam and comes into him with a groan. Wei Wuxian comes immediately with a gasp. Wei Ying’s eyes roll back in his head, his body shaking, melting into Lan Zhan’s arms. They all collapse into a pile of limbs.
The only sounds in the library are their breaths, heavy at first, then slowly evening out. Wei Ying breaks the silence first.
“Laan Zhaaan…” he slurs. “Kiss me…”
Wei Wuxian wakes with his fingers tangled together with Lan Wangji’s. He squeezes and gets a squeeze in return. He turns to curl into Lan Wangji’s side, sneaking an arm into his.
“Happy birthday,” Wei Wuxian says sleepily into Lan Wangji’s neck. “Did you like your present?” he says, looking up at him.
Wei Wuxian rolls so that he’s atop Lan Wangji. He pokes his cheek.
“You got to take my virginity again. And have two of me.”
Wei Wuxian is silent for a moment. Lan Wangji arches an eyebrow, questioning. Wei Wuxian asks, “Tell me, did you regain your memories halfway through?”
“Lan Zhan!” He hits him playfully. “I knew it. So you really did get your wish to take sixteen-year-old me. How lucky.
“But you were only focused on him,” he pouts. “He’s not even real! How are you going to make up for this injustice!”
“Jealous of yourself?” Lan Wangji says serenely. Wei Wuxian huffs. Lan Wangji moves his hands to grip Wei Wuxian’s ass. “There’s no need. You have my full attention.”
“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian holds his face in between his hands. Lan Wangji gazes up at him lovingly.