lanclan | open post.

☁︎ —(jiang cheng)

( from here. )

[ Preparing Cloud Recesses for an informal visit from another sect leader still means a lot of fuss goes on, from stocking up the kitchens with more fish and meat than vegetables to account for a visitor's tastes to organising a private suite for Jiang Cheng not too far from Xichen's personal domain, should he care to speak with him in a hurry. Courtesies, all. Manners dictate he waits until Jiang Cheng is settled, so he does — the journey up the mountain is not a casual one to undertake, as the sect leader will remember from his youth — but once Xichen is certain his guest is comfortable he heads over to say hello informally, before he ought to receive him in the hanshi.

He raps on the door like one of the disciples might, idle excitement in his chest at the prospect of having a visitor; but particularly this one, who is overdue some time in Gusu, and is the first Xichen is meeting post-seclusion. ]

☁︎ —(wen kexing)

[ He is sick of seclusion. It was necessary for a time to grieve the man he thought he knew, and to come to terms with the monster who manipulated him. While Wangji was very responsible and took on the role of Chief Cultivator during this time, as Xichen emerged from his self-imposed exile from the world it became clear that things were not running as smoothly as he was led to believe, largely because the majority of Wangji's interests were not consumed by the rest of the world but by the inevitable return of one loud, spirited young man. One of the first things that happened when Xichen re-entered the world was to accept the title from his little brother who could not literally move fast enough to meet Wei Wuxian up the mountain at the jingshi. That was last month. Ever since, Xichen has been corresponding with the other sects as he re-immerses himself in the living world. Politics are not the only thing to slide back his way, interspersed with proposals from the families of eligible young ladies, and he is ... tired of pretending not to want other things. Perhaps, he sometimes reasons, if he had been more forward with Jin Guangyao, he could have tempered him with distraction, not only that but if he is working hard for the benefit of others he feels mildly entitled to enjoy himself in private, First Jade of Lan or not (is it selfish of him? He cannot begin to care, patience worn down by the pain of the past). So, when he passes by an enigmatic young man at a gathering, a vision in pink corralled from behind by rich red maple trees, Xichen opts for boldness and it gets him farther than he anticipated.

Cloud Recesses is peaceful like an open temple, it swells with the cool air from tall trees and any disturbance is noted by its denizens. He hears footsteps before he turns with a smile to see Wen Kexing there, tossing out poetry like he breathes it, and when a fan teasingly rests against his chin Xichen traces the line of it down to a wrist where his thumb finds a pulse. He holds on, gentle but firm as he steps in closer, peering down at Wen Kexing with a fondness he isn't sure he could stifle if he tried, and returns the touch by brushing curled fingers along a fine jaw, warm despite the seasonal chill in the air around them. ]

'If I am being honest / I am suffocated by my blush / I am speechless when I see you / It is much too obvious.'

[ With his eyes crinkling as his smile widens, he leans down in agreement that they will indeed get to do all sorts of things together and kisses him softly, slowly like a reward for scaling the mountain, a wordless Hello of lips. ]

Come inside so that I might warm you up then, beautiful.

( Wen Kexing is aware he's being ... bratty.

Really, there's no other word for his current behaviour. It's been several months since he spent a, quite frankly, spectacular night with the Lan Clan's sect leader. Several months, and while the night itself was something for the books, he should have drawn a pretty little line under it and gone about his own business. And he'd certainly tried, slinking back to Mount Qingya with nothing to show for himself but a twinging ache in his backside and a list of newfound kinks to file neatly away in a place he didn't look at. It really should have been left at that, Wen Kexing didn't have time for anything else, no matter how pretty the man or how strong the musculature. He'd schemes to put into place, rebellions to quash, the narrow-eyed glances of Luo Fumeng, and, lately, Gu Xiang to avoid.

And yet, his thoughts kept turning back, ruminating on how it had felt, being fucked stupid by Lan Xichen's broad hands, his massive cock. Wen Kexing is no blushing virgin, he's no celibate monk, he has always enjoyed sex, but these days now whatever engagements he finds himself in he always comes away lacking. It doesn't matter the man, concubine or tipsy traveller, it doesn't matter the position, top or bottom, nothing seemed to satisfy. Had Lan Xichen rearranged something vital in Wen Kexing when he'd driven deep inside of him? Had he bewitched him somehow with his pretty, earnest eyes and wicked, greedy hands?

He'd had to have.

All it had taken was one particularly ruinous week - a failed assassination in Wen Kexing's own valley, too many men dead by his own hands, an even worse encounter with his previous favourite working boy - and Wen Kexing had snarled his way back to Caiyi, frustration eating at his heels. He forgoes all propriety this time around, choosing instead to force his way through the wards surrounding the mountain with a pickpocketed token taken off some poor young disciple, a skill earnest, pleasant young masters surely shouldn't have but he doesn't stop to think about that. It gives him something to do, single-mindedly focused on seeing how far he can get before he's caught. Of course, he doesn't really notice when the ward falling away at the wall he's scaling, giving out a crow of victory as he yanks himself up, swinging a leg over.

He does hear the clearing of a throat though, Wen Kexing going still as he pauses, not quite looking Lan Xichen's way. There's no excuse to be had for it, he shouldn't have been able to make his way this far in the first place, stolen token or no, and there's no putting himself back together. The mask has slipped a little too far, and so Wen Kexing doesn't have it in himself to come up with an excuse. Instead he sniffs, haughty, glancing through his eyelashes and down the long line of his nose at the other man. )

I have a bone to pick with you.

[ Xichen's palms are sweaty where he rubs them inside the silk pockets of the long wool coat he wears upon entering the building, long hair down over his shoulders and flecked in snowflakes. He stamps on the carpet to rid himself of the sludge and greets the doorman cheerfully, nerves jangling unseen in his throat as he makes his way not to the elevator toward his apartment but to the ground-floor bar open to the public, a suave affair in dark wood and low lighting, wondering all the way if he has actually made a huge mistake. Nie Mingjue was insistent about the practicality of the idea. You haven't slept with anyone in seven years, it's time to move on from that little shithead. True, of course. He's had a horrid time getting over Jin Guangyao but Da-ge was right: Xichen does have needs, needs that are near to snapping after he got hard watching a (hardly) spicy sex scene at his best friend's house (and subsequently wanted to die of embarrassment). He could not refuse the myriad options Da-ge looked up on his laptop, efficient and unflustered in a bid to help, of attractive women and men ... and their listed rates.

Escorts, in a word. Hookers, by an unkinder one, but all from very high-profile companies as Da-ge pointed out.

They'll be discreet, don't worry. At worst you can tell them to leave whenever you want.

The only problem is, Xichen left all of the arrangements to his friend out of sheer humiliation and now has no idea which person he's supposed to be waiting for or receiving at the bar, going off the simplest description available of "Tall, pretty, and wearing red", which he supposes is Da-ge's way of trying to inspire some mystery. All it does, without his little brother's artful touch, is leave Xichen utterly perplexed as he looks around the bar, hoping no one has come.

A single man sitting alone wears a red shirt and Xichen feels his heart leap in his throat as he catches sight of a very pretty profile, silently sending Da-ge a round of mental thanks (and privately impressed the other man knows him this well). Swallowing his nerves, he makes his approach and clears his throat, emboldened by the idea of such a lovely creature being all his for the evening. ]

Another round for the young gentleman and I'll have a sazerac.

[ His gaze cuts sideways to the stranger, a soft smile in place as Xichen gives him a polite nod. ]

Pardon my forwardness.

may.

legbreakings; violet tiger @ blue mountain

wifedup; blue dragon courts pink maple ❄️🌸

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