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]

[ there is little to feel unfair about. there is little at all, as lan wangji desires to hold only what it is they wish him to — what it is they choose to afford. if at all, should it not be himself who feels guilty? should it not be him, who has stolen and has carried these feelings regardless of the rejections that once been placed upon his shoulders so long ago? should it not be himself, who kisses jiang cheng with what is new and green? should he not find better balance?

still, these drift beneath the surface. still, these remain as wei wuxian leans up upon his toes and presses lips to the cut of his jaw, presses between himself and jiang cheng. jiang cheng, who makes noise against his mouth and goes pliant in wake of his teeth and tongue. he is as though a summer storm and the shift of his emotions rattles against the barrier of skin and bone. he leans against it ( for a moment, for just a moment ) before wei wuxian directs his attention back to his heat and his life— his requests, made vibrant in the tease he casts between them both. and so, it is lan wangji's hand that skims from jiang cheng's chest to the dip of his waist. it is fingers, that find purchase beneath the way that wei wuxian rucks up the fabric.

there is a passing reluctance to draw his hand from wei wuxian's. passing, as he cannot disobey the demand wei wuxian makes to be held, to hold. passing, as the flat of his palm works along the curvature of wei wuxian's arm, dips into the shadows that paint at the crook of his elbow. passing, as his hand for a moment departs only to settle upon the hip that sits closest to his own. wei wuxian, whom he has tasted and felt and moved with before— his touch is no less reverent, no less requesting, no less desirous. and lan wangji puts in work to hitch up the hem of the sweater to push his fingers beneath it, to lay them prone against the skin that he may reach with the span and length of them. and he breathes, in through his nose as wei wuxian presses kisses to his mouth.

and lan wangji, lan wangji goes ( for a moment, just for a moment ) pliant and gentle and warm. and as wei wuxian too moves to tastes him, fills lan wangji with the soft of his sound, it is only that moment he affords as he braces wei wuxian in the lean lines of his stretch with the press of his arm against his back. it is only that moment, before he moves to press the edge of canines against reddened mouth that too kissed jiang cheng. it is only that moment, before he presses that flat of his tongue against where it is he has bitten— presses on to take in the border of wei wuxian's teeth, the seam of his lips.

and this too, this too is no less fervent. no matter how it may be in part something he has long committed to memory, this too offers no less the thrumming of his heart. and it is an adoration, that blooms sharp between them both. it is a tenderness, that chances glimpses at how it is lays heavy against lan wangji's ribs. as though the branches of magnolias, bowed ready beneath snow— lan wangji holds steady beneath all that is pressed upon him, willing and welcoming, no matter the breadth of his tethered wants. ]

[sandu]

[ he seek to reassure him - wei wuxian's fingers find the soft skin of his waist beneath the clothing, warmed by the alcohol and the press of bodies, and jiang cheng feels the ripple of the other's emotion through him as clear as daylight - and his happiness is a palpable thing, like some sun-warmed patch of ground that jiang cheng now sits himself down upon. lan wangji's hand settles opposite, thumb pressing into hip under the rucked up clothing, fingers curling around the dip of his waist, and jiang cheng cannot think, cannot breathe, can only shiver caught between both of their hands, between the wall and the press of their bodies.

wei wuxian is an untameable creature, a bird set upon a breeze; he does things because he wants to, not because he is forced, and jiang cheng cannot help but admit - like this, pressed to the corner of this crowded room, their lips and their hands burning brands and staining him with their colors - that there is something beautiful about it. wei wuxian is something free and unrestrained and wild, and it has always made jiang cheng either catch his breath or else hold it to watch him - in surprise, in wonder, in something much like devotion that has him stay his fingers instead of reaching out, in moments like this.

touch me, he says, hold me, he demands, and jiang cheng, freed from the kisses, has to grit his teeth tightly to keep any small noises in that may escape - small, silent huffs of breath that he can't quite control, his breathing made shallow with the way wei wuxian presses up against him between his legs, pulling lan wangji close behind him. jiang cheng does not touch - though the grip on his festive jumper does not loosen, it is not bare skin, not the dip and curve of wei wuxian's body as he bends into his space like some young green plant. jiang cheng stays his hands - keeping them balled up into fists, pressed to the wall behind him.

he looks dishevelled - lips darkened and swollen, flushed across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, the back of his neck already feeling hot - and jiang cheng stares at the way wei wuxian steals back the kiss, shamelessly taking - what he wants, but what rightly belong to him. their emotions - for each other, for the kiss, for - everything, flow into him, washes against him in waves too quick and fast to understand, and jiang cheng almost expects to feel some kind of rejection when he reaches out, some sort of blockage that would say, this is it. that is as far as you can come.

his hand finds their faces. his thumb brushes against the soft skin of one, the strong lines of jaw of another. he does not quite skim the edge of their lips where they are joined together - he is not so shameless as his brother - but his eyes are wide, in surprise, in wonder. ]