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When it first happens, Wei Wuxian has a moment of complete disorientation, as if his mind cannot catch up with his body. He is on the floor of the jingshi, meditating, while Lan Zhan is playing his guqin in the adjoining room, when a frisson of heat runs across his neck. Without opening his eyes, he shivers. Did he imagine it? Has he reached a new level of meditating that affects him physically and not just spiritually?
Another frisson, this time across his chest. Not just his chest--specifically, his nipples.
It could have been a breeze from the open doorway. It is summer, after all, and he is only wearing a light robe. It's nearly hai hour, and this is their nightly ritual. Lan Zhan insists upon it, stating that it helps clear their minds after a long day's work. Wei Wuxian goes along with it, because spending a quiet hour alone with Lan Wangji in their shared home is never a hardship. He finds he does sleep better afterwards, feels clearer in the morning.
This, however. This is new.
When another shiver scuttles across his thighs, he knows it isn't a breeze. It feels too deliberate, and it appears to have a certain...trajectory.
He gasps as whatever it is that is traveling across his skin wraps itself around his cock and squeezes. Lightly, but with an intent that is unmistakable. His eyes fly open. There is nothing visible around him. It doesn't feel like all the times that his amulet forced spirits around him, either. This touch doesn't feel sinister or evil. It feels the very opposite of that.
It glows around him, caressing him with what he can only describe as love. It dances across his skin on light footsteps, a touch to the lower back here, a stroke of his inner thigh there. The touch is everywhere and it's pinning him in place. When he attempts to lift himself up, it holds him down, grows stronger.
His gaze flies to where Lan Zhan is sitting sedately at his instrument, plucking the strings with his usual calm. Now that Wei Wuxian thinks of it, this piece of music...this piece of music is largely unfamiliar to him. It holds a thread common to all of Lan Zhan's pieces, but the rhythm is different, the melody shifting, curling in the air sensually. How did he not notice that earlier?
"Lan...Lan Zhan?" It comes out breathless, as a particularly insistent touch travels from his throat down to his groin, stopping just short of where he's grown rather hard.
Lan Zhan doesn't reply. His profile is serene, unchanged, but Wei Wuxian catches his throat shift as he swallows. The smallest tilt of his lips is unmistakable.
Lan Zhan is seducing Wei Wuxian with the power of his music.
"Fuck." Wei Wuxian attempts to get up again, just to see what will happen, and he gets rewarded with both his wrists being grabbed and tied with some invisible string behind his back. "Lan Zhan…"
A small noise of assent from his lover, but nothing more. An invisible hand skims across his chest and slowly opens up his robe until more of his skin is exposed to the air. He shivers, makes a desperate noise. How long until Lan Zhan comes over himself? Wei Wuxian can't help but shut his eyes as the touch grows more insistent. He feels as if his body is glowing with the energy being exerted, a warm sort of glow that bathes him in affection. He has not yet fully left his meditative state and a part of him wonders if perhaps this is a dream, his own mind's twisted way of teasing him.
But when he opens his eyes, it doesn't feel like a dream. Lan Zhan is still as serene as ever, but he is also very real, his practiced fingers not stopping their plucking around the unfamiliar melody. Wei Wuxian can't help the laugh that escapes his lips.
"Hanguang Jun, you are full of surprises." He gasps as a stroke, more insistent than the last, slides up his thighs, forcing his cock to harden further. "Did-ah-did you write this melody yourself?"
His wrists are still pinned behind his back so when his legs are suddenly spread apart, he over-balances and falls back against the bed frame right there on the floor, pinned in between it and whatever madness Lan Zhan is busy cultivating.
"Research," Lan Zhan responds.
Wei Wuxian half laughs, half moans as the insides of his knees are stroked in a way that goes straight to his cock. "Research?"
"Mn." The note of his voice is warm, teasing. Pleased. This is the Lan Zhan no one else gets to see.
"Well, then." Wei Wuxian is panting. The cognitive dissonance of being touched yet being alone is straining his senses, and he finds he needs to close his eyes again and breathe deeply in order to stay in the moment.
It isn't difficult. Lan Zhan's energy is curling around him more insistently, a welcome intrusion. Any moment, Wei Wuxian expects him to get up and finish what he's started, but the longer the invisible touching continues, the more difficult it becomes to wait.
"Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan, this isn't the finger work I had expected from you tonight."
"Mn." The music doesn't stop. If anything, it intensifies, its notes growing stronger, headier, more powerful. So does the invisible touch--what feels like Lan Zhan's hands are running over his entire body, as if there were more than two hands to be had. His chest, his neck, his hips and legs, even his mouth. When he feels a tap on his lips, he opens up without thinking, and wraps his tongue and lips around invisible fingers, sucking hard. He thinks he hears a noise from where Lan Zhan is sitting, but it's difficult to tell with his blood starting to pound in his ears.
What began as a lovely prelude to a fuck is quickly turning into a full-on onslaught to all his pleasure centers. His pinned wrists are restricting his movement, but his hips are free to seek what he needs, and the second time his cock is touched, he cries out, bucking up. "Oh, Lan Zhan--Lan Zhan, what--"
He is still wearing his robe, but it can hardly be considered being dressed, as the fabric has been ripped away to expose his body to the elements. A small part of him remembers that the doors to the jingshi are still open, and for all that most members of the Lan Clan know not to go near it when both occupants are at home, there is always the possibility of discovery.
But that thought gets swept away by the warm summer breeze and the continuing assault on his senses that Lan Wangji has engaged in. Wei Wuxian gasps as the invisible fingers in his mouth are replaced with what feels like--lips, he thinks, and then he's being--kissed. A familiar, heady, needy kiss. He thrashes beneath it, wanting more, seeking more, only vaguely aware of what he must look like, making love to an invisible man.
A man who is very clearly visible to him, at a distance that is near unbearable. When he is able to, Wei Wuxian gasps out Lan Zhan's name, his voice sounding hoarse and desperate.
Still, Lan Zhan carries on playing. The rhythm shifts again, a minute change that he might not have noticed but for the sensations around his body. He half-believes that if he opens his eyes, he will see Lan Zhan in front of him, that's how solid and real it all feels. And familiar, too--the music amplifies it, multiplies it tenfold, but he knows who those ghostly hands belong to, knows who it is that knows him best.
Wei Wuxian would know his touch anywhere. Lan Zhan has learned to wring pleasure from him in ways that have exceeded even Wei Wuxian's expectations--not that he had allowed himself to have any, in the beginning. Not expectations, maybe, but certainly fantasies. In most of them, he had been the one to act first, the one who forged the path and showed Lan Wangji all the ways they could be together.
Lan Zhan, however, never ceases to surprise him. Now, his melody wraps itself around Wei Wuxian's senses as his inner thighs are caressed. He is beginning to suspect that Lan Zhan has no plans to finish the job himself. Wei Wuxian moans as another gentle stroke runs up his cock, and bucks up as he is gently squeezed and cajoled into rising pleasure. The rhythm is slow at first, evenly paced. It feels good, and not enough. He prefers it harder, faster; loves it when Lan Zhan loses his legendary control and unleashes all of himself onto Wei Wuxian's willing and receptive body. This, however, feels like torture.
He wants to touch Lan Zhan back. He wants to kiss him, stroke him, fuck him. His hands are still pinned behind his back and he feels a tingling sensation around the empty air. He can't quite pinpoint if it's real or imagined, his senses busy with being assaulted by Lan Wangji's music. Wei Wuxian will never be able to look at his guqin the same way again.
He feels the ghost of a whisper in his ear, barely there. So beautiful like this.
When his eyes fly open, Lan Zhan is watching him through heavily lidded eyes, having tilted his head enough to be able to see. What a strange moment, Wei Wuxian thinks, then decides that if Lan Zhan is going to drive him wild like this, he will give him a show he won't easily forget.
Wei Wuxian arches his back and bares his throat, feeling the phantom fingers running across his torso. He knows Lan Zhan loves him looking like this, wanton and ready. Just as he does it, the caresses turn to scratches and he gasps, his writhing no longer for show at all. The grip around his cock speeds up, grows more insistent. He's gasping for breath, his body one long continuous shudder. He's no longer able to control much of anything at all.
He's being taken apart by a myriad of phantom hands, all while beautiful music flits around him and his lover sits several meters away, watching him.
"Lan Zhan, this is--cruelty," he manages to say in between moans. "I want to touch you, too, want you here with me."
"I am," Lan Zhan responds. His smile is secretive, sinful, even. "I'm right here with you."
Wei Wuxian moans just as the melody shifts and--oh. Oh, good god in heaven, he is--he is being caressed from the inside. He bucks up, straining against his invisible bonds. At first, it simply feels like stretching, gentle and patient, but then quickly, it turns into something else. He can't really tell what, exactly, is fucking him, but whatever it is, it's steady and working in tandem with the stroking of his cock. It hits the spot that makes fireworks go off beneath his eyelids and he cries out, nearly sobbing.
Oh, God, it's good. It feels so good, so overwhelming, he knows he won't last long now. Lan Zhan's ghostly touches are hot on his skin everywhere they touch--his neck, his chest, his thighs. A tongue flicks against his ear, then teeth bite down on his throat. He can't breathe, can barely hold himself up. Maybe the only thing keeping him up is Lan Zhan's torturous lovemaking.
Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is everywhere, and nowhere all at once. Wei Wuxian's hands are still grasping nothing but air, his mouth seeking kisses that aren't there. When he opens his eyes, Lan Zhan is no longer watching him but his instrument; the only sign that he is in this as much as Wei Wuxian is the high color of his cheeks, the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallows, and the sheen of sweat on his temple.
"Are you hard, Lan Zhan?" Wei Wuxian manages to ask. "You must be so hard right now."
Lan Zhan doesn't respond, but Wei Wuxian notices the light tremor in his previously steady fingers. He laughs through the pleasure, throwing back his head.
"Make me come, Lan Zhan. Make me come so I can do the same to you."
Not the same, of course. Wei Wuxian wouldn't know the first thing about how to use his flute for this, but he is always up for a challenge. He suspects he knows where Lan Zhan's research has taken place. He'll have to do some research of his own.
The thrusting between his legs intensifies, the stroking of his cock unrelenting. All thought scatters as countless fingers hold him down and countless tongues lap at his skin. Another thrust, another stroke, and he's crying out, shuddering through his release, white hot and blinding. Through the rushing in his ears, he can still hear Lan Zhan's melody, though it's winding down.
Slowly, he is let go--first, the licking subsides, then the touching. He is eased out of, stroked gently into regular breathing. His wrists are freed. Then, it truly is just him, his open robe, and his heartbeat, rapid and uneven. He can't really hold his head up, nor does he think he can move just now. It takes a real effort to turn his head enough to look at Lan Zhan in the sudden silence of the jingshi.
Lan Zhan's hands are resting on his lap and he is looking down at them, his breathing shallow.
Wei Wuxian grins lazily, and pats the floor next to him. "Lan Zhan," he says. "You better not just stay there. I need you. Let me take care of you, hmm?"
When Lan Zhan rises, it doesn't look as effortless as usual, and Wei Wuxian smiles to see him stumble, just a bit.
Lan Zhan doesn't meet his gaze until he's knelt down in front of him, between Wei Wuxian's legs, and then it's just a brief, hot glance before he claims Wei Wuxian's mouth.
This kiss--this kiss is real. It's hot and tastes like sex and his lover. It takes a little bit of effort to give as good as he’s getting, because his body still feels boneless and slow, but between the two of them, they manage to strip Lan Zhan of his clothes, kissing all the while.
Wei Wuxian doesn't have to tell him what to do, he simply slides down until Lan Zhan can straddle his chest, and swallows him down. It's messy, kind of lazy, and doesn't take long. He loves the taste of Lan Zhan in his mouth, loves how he fills him, how hard he tries to control himself and how badly he fails at it. Lan Zhan fucks his mouth, short, hard thrusts, the only sounds his gasping. He's got handfuls of Wei Wuxian's hair in his grip. This is familiar, and it fills Wei Wuxian's chest with a bubbling of joy that he could never express in words.
He relishes Lan Zhan's release, allows it to fill him, swallows what he can. The rest, he lets Lan Zhan take care of. A robe is sacrificed for the cause, then his stomach, too, is cleaned.
They don't speak until Lan Zhan has maneuvered them both onto the bed and under the covers. Wei Wuxian can barely keep his eyes open, but he senses a need for reassurance. He runs a hand through Lan Zhan's hair, briefly caresses his headband. He meets his heavy gaze and smiles. "You are a fiend. Talk about some wicked sorcery."
A quick quirk of an eyebrow. "Sorcery, yes. Wicked?"
"Very wicked." He can feel himself grinning madly. "The wickedest." He stretches, wincing when his muscles twitch and spasm. "I'm gonna have a hard time walking tomorrow, Hanguang Jun."
"Mn." Lan Zhan takes the hand that's caressing his hair and intwines their fingers together. "I'm sure you'll find a way."
Wei Wuxian thinks he's probably right. And if he isn't, well. It was still worth it.