February/March Catchall

[baiyueguang]

Who: Lan Xichen and You!
What: General February/March things
When: During February/March
Where: The Siheyuan, around the city, etc.

Content Warnings: Will note as needed.

Prompts below~!

Comments

[baiyueguang]

He is a mirror to Jin Guangyao; eyes full of an apprehensive sort of joy, with the niggling worry it will all be yanked away at a moments notice, but not an ounce of regret.

(He remembers the stink of smoke and bodies as the Cloud Recesses burned, that his chance encounter with A-Yao had come on the heel of mutual tragedy, and pursued by Wen Soldiers. It seemed the world had deemed that they could not have any joy that didn't begin or end in sorrow.

Xichen would take the joy then, and endure whatever sorrow was to come. Jin Guangyao is worth it.)

His own impulse is to pull his husband into a crushing kiss, to lift him up and carry him back to Jin Guangyao's quarters and hold him and kiss him until the heat death of the universe.

But they aren't quite done here.

"Husband," he affirms, eyes crinkling at the corner as he swipes a thumb over Jin Guangyao's lip, before reaching back to unfasten the crimson and gold head ribbon.

He joins their hands, carefully winding the red silk around their wrists so that they are properly joined.

"Uncle would throw a fit if I did not do this properly."

Well, Lan Qiren would probably throw a fit about something happening in this room at least.

cw for cavity-inducing sweetness, u have been warned

[poorlittlesange]

(There is absolutely no way that Lan Qiren would have given his blessing to anything currently transpiring in this room. stay pressed lan xiansheng)

Jin Guangyao holds his hand still as Lan Xichen wraps the red silk ribbon around their wrists, aware intellectually that this is not the first time that he has handled this sacred symbol of Gusu Lan restraint, but now--now--to do so is his right. As family. He brushes his thumb across the red fabric with an indescribable softness in his eyes, lips parted as though he wants to speak, but can't come up with the right words. Well, when in doubt, it never hurts to use someone else's words instead. That's what poetry is good for, isn't it?

"你儂我儂 忒煞情多
情多處 熱似火

把一塊泥 捻一個你 塑一個我
將咱兩個 一齊打破 用水調和
再捻一個你 再塑一個我
我泥中有你 你泥中有我

我與你 生同一個衾
死同一個槨"

He's always been good at poetry recitation; an eidetic memory means he won't forget the words, and can instead embellish the delivery as he pleases. This time there's little flourish in poet Guan Daosheng's simple words; they speak for themselves, and once he's finished, Jin Guangyao bows his head to press a kiss to Lan Xichen's fingers.

[baiyueguang]

He knows the poem. They read it together once, more than a decade ago as the candles dimmed late into the night, and when their eyes met, both knew their hearts yearned for more than just tender words.

And now they could have that.

Seeing his beloved leave little kisses along the knuckles of his long and dexterous fingers really hammers home that simple truth.

After so long, they're finally, finally free.

Lan Xichen cannot stop smiling as he presses a kiss on the crown of A-Yao's head.

"It was always you, A-Yao. It could never be anyone else."

[poorlittlesange]

It should never have been anyone else for Jin Guangyao, too, but he knows that he will not be able to say those words with complete honesty. It would not be fair to Qin Su and what she endured as his wife, as their son's mother, even if she is fortunate enough to never know the truth.

"I know," he says instead when he straightens up from his bow. "I always knew, Er-ge." He frames Lan Xichen's face and studies his warm brown eyes, then draws him near enough to kiss his mouth with tenderness--and growing heat, though he pulls away before either of them can get too carried away. There will be time enough for all the many, many benefits that accompany marriage.

"We should prepare for our guests," he reminds Lan Xichen, smiling wryly, and slides his fingers along his husband's collar--his husband--to smooth out the layers of red and golden silk.

[baiyueguang]

What should have been was never what could have been and Xichen knows this. He would never hold anyone to the rules and standards of his sect, let alone the peculiarities of his family line.

But that kiss is everything, it means everything and still not enough. Despite the chill of his coldblood, Lan Xichen's eyes are alight with heated passion and he has to steal one more, just one more, tender and sweet and not quite chaste (not with the way he drags his teeth over A-Yao's bottom lip), a promise of what they can have later.

Because that exists too - a later, something to look forward to.

What should have always been theirs now very much is.