CLOSED.

[laozu]

WHO: Ancient China Wuxia Crew ( Wei Wuxian laozu, Lan Wangji wangxian & Jiang Cheng sandu )
WHERE: Various locations.
WHEN: Various times.
WHAT: A catch-all log for literally everything so we don't spam.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Sexual content, discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation, physical violence, difficulties in communication, etc.

Comments

[wangxian]

Mn.

[ or, basically: i am already at the store. i have already purchased them. ]

When will you be home?

[sandu]

You better not have.

I am on my way.

[wangxian]

Have what?

[ he is innocent of all crimes.

and, a follow-up text: ]

Mn. Travel safely.

[sandu]

[ ????? he cant even. ]

You too.

[wangxian]

[ innocent of all crimes.

regardless, how jiang cheng will find lan wangji when he returns is as this: comfortable in his evening wear, hair unbound. he will find lan wangji at the kitchen table, his fingers wrapped about a mug of tea that he has made for himself. and, unspoken as it always is, he has pointedly left the water to boil, pointedly left jiang cheng's preferred loose leaf within the metallic tea ball.

he will not mention the one bar he has left out in the open beside the mug lan wangji has taken down. but, he will tip up his chin as jiang cheng comes in the door. he will not smile, not particularly, as he often does not. not, at least, with the soft bow of his mouth. instead, it catches somewhere at the corners of his lips - is forced up to the pale of his eyes, the ease in his brow. ]

Welcome home, [ he says. it is the same tone as always, placid and still. but, there is a undercurrent that reserves itself. it laps at the banks of his teeth, churns into warmth to the ear tuned to himself. ]

[sandu]

[ jiang cheng is not without his faults and his falls. he edges within the peripherals of their mutual orbit, wavering between the shade and the light. they must know by now that jiang cheng shies away from hello and goodbye; he passes by lan wangji with a glance - he chases them with his gaze, softened by the slope of his brows, the downturn of lashes.

it is only after - dressed similarly, with wisps of hair still wet against his temples, that jiang cheng slides into the seat opposite. he does not make a comment of the tea - he never has. ]

I thought you would return later.

[ as always, half accusatory; half combative, but he leans back a little in his seat and crosses a leg over the other. ]

[wangxian]

[ and so too is lan wangji.

he gilts only the edges of each, a covetous and cool thing that grounds words against the heart as though mortar and pestle. each time he stretches to offer sentiment, it snaps back against the core - sticks to itself and catches at teeth, brittles and dulls. and so, perhaps it is that he understands best what jiang cheng leaves in his lapses. his body forms language all of its own, as much as lan wangji's too does. his fingers curve minutely against the pale fabric that overlaps his thighs and so too does his eyes follow after.

no comment is needed, when jiang cheng joins him. the tea is still warm and in the quiet, he has barely touched his own. he has waited. ]

I arrived to work early, [ he tells him, his words like the low wisps of steam that curve off the tea cup. his fingers think to untangle the dark, short hairs that frame the dip of temples - it drags lan wangji's eyes up.

instead, his fingers find the smooth body of the cup. he drinks.

lan wangji knows he needn't ask the unstated question - why did you arrive later? ]