weiward | inbox (penance)

( a month. a year. more, or less; it doesn’t matter, when time is measured in scars, and lan wangji escapes literal torture only to be dropped off where reality doesn’t make much more sense. physically, the changes are subtle. a narrower waist, a paler complexion. something a little distant around the eyes, visible exhaustion. it’s where his heart continuously dropped that most of the pain remains, so low his chest feels strangely numb, and his throat has been scorched raw from cries and screams that still color his sclera pink.

his hand shakes around his device, standing rigid in front of the hotel. it’s been an hour and he’s barely moved, afraid that all the tricks played on his mind weren’t just that, and he doesn’t know how he’d cope right now, if silence met his call. it only exacerbates the ache lodged between his ribs, a desperate need to see him, and after a long moment of hesitation, he finally presses the keys to reach him. )

Wei Ying… ( a rasp, croaky and barely louder than the static on the line as he clutches the phone, and anything else he might have said shatters in the shaky breath he holds. )

[it's been a month that felt like a year, giving wei wuxian the slightest taste of an eternity here without lan wangji. but isn't that what he wanted? for him to be free, free of the tortures and temptations often forced upon them. free of him and the misfortune that the yiling patriarch brings. returned to the fresh air the sunlight, to the light.

wei wuxian has kept trying in his absence, but it was never for himself. it was for sizhui and jin ling, xiao xingchen and song lan. others that he hoped would one day leave him, and then he could finally submit himself to the oblivion of alcohol. he could lose his mind and hell could do whatever it wanted with his body.

instead, he's been dragging it back to his room and throwing it across his bed, crying and screaming into his pillow, getting the worst of it out so maybe the young lan and his nephew won't catch on to his misery when he checks on them later. he's not been anywhere, and yet he looks similar - thinner, paler, eyes rimmed in red. staring at nothing until his burning eyes force him to blink. but lan wangji's voice brings him back. his gaze widens and shifts to his phone before he lunges for it. he knocks it off the bed in his haste, and sends it spinning across the floor. wei wuxian gracelessly follows, tumbling onto the hard surface and gripping it for dear life once he does get his hands on it.]

Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan, can you hear me!

( windblast. wei wuxian’s voice is like that, real, unlocking lan wangji’s lungs and punching out a long, shuddering breath as he reaches deep inside himself to get it together, screwing his eyes shut against an oncoming headache. or maybe it’s just another cascade of tears; he’s too tired to know the difference, shaking everywhere as he struggles not to sob, not to drop to his knees and cry like a child. but there’s a time for everything, and he can’t afford to be weak now; if nothing else, the nightmares he just endured—sometimes more tangible than reality—only carved his guilt deeper, and budding determination takes root at the center of his bleeding heart, keeping him on his feet. )

Wei Ying. ( every syllable hurts; he tastes blood on his tongue, though he’ll be damned if that ever keeps him from uttering his name. he takes a step forward, assessing the decrepit building with a mix of rancor and apprehension, lips pursed acrid as demons walk and sneer past him. ) Your room?

Where are you?

[he throws open the door to his room, but he still doesn't know which way to go, which direction will bring him to his side faster. it makes more sense to wait here for him, rather than going out only to end up right back here again. but the month has been so long and it's an urge that's hard to fight.]

Lan Zhan, I'm here.

[he can hear the pain in his voice, and it burns a new brand against his heart, unseen but just as painful. he hurries down one end of the hallway, still desperate to catch that first glimpse of him. when he turns around, he sees lan wangji's staggering approach from the other end.]

Lan Zhan! [wei wuxian runs to him, horrified gaze scanning him from head to toe, hand touching the rare spots that don't look too injured.] What did they do to you?

( nothing he hasn’t already done to himself. nothing he hasn’t caused, allowed, and wei wuxian is flesh and blood before him like he hasn’t died a thousand times in the past month, a wail in lan wangji’s throat that he forcibly swallows down. his blade drops. his phone as well. lashes flutter low at his touch and still lan wangji gently pushes his hand away, only to crowd his space and briskly crush him against his body. ) Nothing I did not deserve.

( it’s what he says instead as his muscles relax for the first time in what feels like an eternity, high-strung still but easily curling against him. and to think he’d been well on his way, back home, to live without him. forever. but his resignation now is irrevocably splintered; he knows he couldn’t survive him twice, not after all of this, and he pulls him in harder, voice like sandpaper as he grits his teeth on his name, one stray tear running down his cheek. ) Wei Ying. Ease my mind, tell me that you have been well. ( that the matching red in his eyes or the paleness of his skin is just an illusion, that he hasn't suffered like he has, out of reach, unprotected. )

[he worries, however good it feels, that every little point of contact brings him pain in some way. and yet he can't maintain the distance between them either, can only wrap his arms around him and hold him tighter, every muscle of his body promising to never let him go again.]

That's not true.

[were it anyone else, the mere suggestion that lan wangji deserves suffering would be fighting words. but hearing them from his lips makes wei wuxian's eyes sting with frustrated tears. it's the one impasse between them, the one thing they will never agree on. the sound that he makes could be a snort, or it could be the hiccup of a sob. how does he tell him that he hasn't been well at all? that without him he's been miserable and more damned than any other moment here? ease my mind, he says, and wei wuxian doesn't resort to words for a change. instead he turns his head to seek lan wangji's lips, covering them with his own. it's not an overly heated kiss, despite the soft sounds that come from deep in his throat as he opens up to him. but there's still something desperate about it, a little hungry. a month of hardships can be healed as long as lan wangji is there to hold and kiss.

he breaks it with a shuddering breath, forehead touching the other man's.]

Lan Zhan, let's go inside. Let me ease every part of you.

[nothing too quickly. he just needs to see more of him, touch more of him. tend to him.]

( it’s how they’ve come to comfort each other. it should be reserved for lovers, but whatever they are, touching wei wuxian has never felt wrong. wei wuxian touching him has always felt right, even back when he wouldn’t let anyone approach him. wei wuxian could never be deterred... until he lost everything, and there’s nothing lan wangji wouldn’t give now, to alleviate the heavy burden of absence wei wuxian constantly has to endure.

there’s an obvious chasm between them, where words collide with old and new pains. wei wuxian doesn’t answer his question, an answer on its own, like his kiss. maybe it’s why he seeks his mouth again once the door closes behind them. maybe it’s why he chases after the taste of him like his lips hold all the answers he’s ever needed, his warmth louder than anything he could possibly say. words seem momentarily insufficient. they bump useless against the walls of his brain and shift into raspy sounds on his tongue, and he’s never wanted to hold anyone as much as he wants to hold him now, to lose himself in his arms until he remembers who he is, who they are, and find himself anew.

it starts with a light shove against the door, lips sliding harder against his. everything he’s felt in the past month he wants to erase, replace, a violence in his heart he doesn’t know how to curb or unleash. he doesn’t want to hurt him, or even himself, really. he just wants to feel, raw and unshackled, cleanse himself whole and become alive again, with the only man who knows how to echo the confines of his heart. it’s the urge he follows as he kisses and bites his mouth and his throat, and he yanks, a tear in wei wuxian’s robes; despite the brusquerie of his movements, his touch remains reverend, his breath a husky hymn of interrupted syllables, only wei wuxian’s name. )

[they do the things that lovers do, and wei wuxian feels for him the way that only a true lover would feel. it's still not a clearly defined realization, just a feeling that he's increasingly aware of during both his sober moments and the moments when he starts feeling the alcohol's effects. but it's lan wangji who's the source of the warmth in his body. he's happiest when he's with him, he's at his most miserable when they're apart, and he can't touch himself without lan wangji's name on his lips. now he finds his quickest release while imagining that he's responsible for it.

they act like lovers now, with lan zhan pushing him against the door with a passion that might surprise most who know the young jade. he kisses him like he's quenching a thirst, licking into his mouth when wei wuxian yields to him. there's something under his skin, and it's a thing with teeth and claws, that leaves welcomed marks on his skin and tears apart the seams of his clothing, only to touch the skin that's revealed with the most loving of touches.

wei wuxian turns to catch his mouth one more time, his whispers coming between rough gasps.]

Lan Zhan, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.

[he's his. for tonight, for tomorrow. for much longer than he ever planned on being when this is the last place he ever wanted to keep him. but it would truly be hell without him, and maybe lan wangji feels the same.

he pushes him towards the bed where he crawls into his lap, hands and mouth busy with his soulmate's urgency, his body a home for it. wei wuxian's kisses travel up the side of his face but finally pause against his temple.]

Lan Zhan, I...you...

( wei wuxian’s pause near his temple gives him pause. it’s a simple string of words in his ear, and lan wangji’s palms around his semi-bare waist glide to a halt, his voice forcing his eyes half-opened. lan zhan, i… you… there’s something there that needles through him, grips his heart and cuts his breath short, blood pounding in his throat. ) Wei Ying. ( wei ying, again, agonizingly soft, because what else is there to say when his name holds the entirety of lan wangji. the flames licking across his senses temporarily recede, and he noses at his face to catch his gaze, stilling once he does. it’s the beauty of him, maybe, or the vulnerability in-between, exposed together where uncertainty and strength collide, and wei wuxian should know. he never wanted to burden him before, and he still doesn’t, but if wei wuxian feels even just a fraction of what he does, perhaps it could free rather than strain, and remind him that he’ll never be alone again.

he can’t afford missed opportunities any longer, and with an innocence that clashes with the urgency of his needs, momentarily put on hold, his fingertips lightly touch his cheek, tender vehemence in his eyes. ) Wei Ying… Your sins are my sins. ( a conviction he already had when they both awakened here, made ten times stronger now. ) If you bleed, I bleed. ( his shield, his anchor, anything he needs him to be. he blinks slowly, heat creeping up his face as the corners of his eyes soften, mournful and awed all at once, only a hint of hesitation. ) And tonight I would see you laugh and gasp my name, until I no longer remember anything else.

VOICE

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video; backdated to the marks, whoops

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you know what this is

pure joy

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