Work Text:
A Day To Die
Amidst the cusp of evening, stars were dancing on the precarious edge of visibility as time passed in Cloud Recesses, the Jingshi illuminated by the timid glow of approaching moonlight. Lan Wangji had half of his hair tucked into a lackadaisical ponytail, dark strands and locks spilling down his back like a spilth of ink, marring the appearance of his white bedroom robes to look like the rushed beginnings of an artist’s sketch across a canvas.
He brushed away nonexistent dust from a pillow before settling on it, long legs crossed over one another and back conditionally straightened to perfection. The posture only augmented the soreness in his limbs from the torrent of war-filled days, and Lan Wangji could feel the thrum of his pulse quiver beneath his skin in synchronisation to the new course of pain enveloping his muscles, biting a chunk out of his will to retain his nightly routine of meditation.
His eyes were closed for about a quarter of a burning candle stick when the heavy rattle of doors being tugged open made him pause in his ministration.
Never mind their footsteps, his presence was a penetrating force into your life, a coercion that made you look at them no matter the circumstance. He was tall but not the biggest, and pretty but not the handsomest and powerful, but there would always be somebody stronger. And yet, the smiling courage he wore in the face of strife was something that Lan Wangji could never understand, nobodycould ever dare to.
In that sense, Wei Wuxian was an unparalleled being who only had delicate flesh and bones to protect him, but if Lan Wangji could fight with him – he would.
He will.
Sighing, Wei Wuxian said, “hmm, if there’s one thing I miss about this place, it’s the baths. Maybe it’s the water? Can I bring some back with me, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Wangji glanced at the man now adorned in the white Gusu Lan robes, careful eyes observing every colour, every curve, everything. “Hair is wet. Dry it.”
Wei Wuxian pursed his full lips, cheeks flushed from the water as he ambled to where Lan Wangji was, carelessly dampening the floor with moisture. “Lan Zhan! I’m too tired. All that Wen Chao killing has sapped me of all my energy, I could just drop here right now, fall asleep with wet hair and get sick. You don’t want that for me, right Lan Zhan?” He held out a thick wad of cloth. “Dry it for me?”
He took the material with fingers that itched for respite, his body against the idea of any sort of excursion that didn’t involve immobility or sleep. “Mn.”
After a surprise induced gasp, Wei Wuxian tacked on a short laugh. “Appeasing me now, are you, Lan Zhan? Missed me that much? Here I was thinking you’d be happy I was dead.”
If time had a heart, it would have stopped beating in that moment for the way in which Lan Wangji felt was as if the entire world had blinked. “No.Never.”
His words were ripped from deep within his heart, smothered with uncharacteristic feelings that were once unbeknownst to Lan Wangji, at least before he met Wei Wuxian. They felt raw as they rolled off his tongue, the great emotion behind them heard even from the minimal syllables spoken.
It jarred the moment into the unknown as Wei Wuxian only looked down at him, eyes seeing only past him, never seeing him. He had a rather strange expression on his face, a kind that could be mistaken for neutralism but Lan Wangji knew him better to deduce that it was an unnatural one. Or at least one he didn’t wear often. His eyebrows were slightly drawn up and lips lightly parted as if in pensive thought, but the gaze in his bright eyes was dark and stony, like the iris had been swallowed up by the pupil.
Bottomless.
Falling down into the Burial Ground once again, screaming and crying and weeping and reaching for a hand that wasn’t there –
Wei Wuxian suddenly broke out into a grin, garish and loud as if nothing had happened. He dropped to his knees in front of Lan Wangji, shaking his unruly wet hair like a dog and said, “Still too uptight to take a joke, huh, Hanguang -Jun? You know how to laugh, I hope. Here, laugh with me – haahahahaa.” He didn’t expect Lan Wangji to participate and only carried on with his words when he unsurprisingly didn’t do a thing. “You wouldn’t dare to be happy if I died anyway. I’d come back as a vengeful ghost and haunt you to death so we can both be vengeful ghosts together. Sound alright?”
Lan Wangji blinked. “Foolish.”
“We can be grave neighbours and share soil.”
“Extremely foolish.” Lan Wangji didn’t let the amusement bleed into his words but there was a hint of mirth gleaming like light in his golden eyes, urged on by the fact that Wei Wuxian would even suggest that they should stay together even in death. “Turn around.”
Complying, Wei Wuxian let his hair be in charge of Lan Wangji’s hands, closing his eyes when he felt the pressure of those spindly fingers through the porous material atop his head, pressing points of pleasure into his scalp. Goose-bumps tripped over each other as they ran down his spine, shivers of relaxation and liberal moans of gratification littering the usual quiet room. Wei Wuxian had never been one to refrain, in the context of basically everything.
On the other hand, Lan Wangji was a constant stature of reticence and therefore, couldn’t help the heat on his cheeks and pink dusting the tips of his ears when Wei Wuxian’s voice lulled out such lilting sounds. It sat warm in his blood, reaching further down south than he would have liked so he quickly focused on drying out the man’s hair instead.
“Wei Ying.”
“Yeaaaah,” Wei Wuxian hummed languidly.
“You’ve changed.”
Though the words were quiet, it broke the semblance of comfortable silence that hung in the space, freighting the atmosphere with something heavy and loud.
There was black and white and red, furling and curling and twirling and whirling like a psychedelic tempest-
Teeth ripping through rotten flesh, blood bursting at the torn seams of limbs like biting into a loquat from Caiyi Town and he swallowed it all, feeding on them like they fed on him-
Hands and nails crawling up his throat, cutting and tainting and nesting, sleeping, making a home in him-
Cries and screams raping his ears-
He couldn’t breathe, he was suffocating and he was falling, but the ground was there but so were arachnid fingers holding him down, dragging him, taking him, pressing into him, wanting to be him…
“Shijie said the same thing,” Wei Wuxian smiled almost wistfully and even though Lan Wangji couldn’t see him, the tone in his voice was enough to catch the underlying bitterness paired with the love that came naturally when talking about his sister. “She worries too much though. About me. Guess my three-month absence didn’t help with that.”
There was a broadness to his shoulders that seemed to tease the seams of the robes, the hints of naked neck taut with corded muscles that weren’t there when they first met. And the mien Wei Wuxian possessed resonated a sense of sagacity and maturity, the kind birthed from experience and understanding but his days on this earth were no fewer than Lan Wangji’s.
So, it was the reason Wei Wuxian agreed to go back with him that explained it all, but Lan Wangji would realise it too late. That this entire being that Wei Wuxian came back to was forced upon him, that he was torn from his original carcass and stitched into one that had lived longer, seen too much, and heard it all. And yet, the root of the human remained, longing for young moments like this to cherish and remember.
The hair was damp in his fingers, the towel having soaked up most of the water as Lan Wangji discarded it on the table after folding it up. Wei Wuxian’s hair no longer smelt of dust and smoke, replaced with a fresh scent of spring water and salts, and it felt soft in Lan Wangji’s hands, running through his fingers like water.
He could have ended the task there but found himself combing through strands, uncoiling knots into straight threads as their conversation continued.
“What happened?”
Oh, what happened?
“I fell asleep.”
“The entire time?”
“More or less.” Liar. “Don’t know how because it was so cold down there, but it was dark. Always night time. Nothing else to note really.”
Wei Wuxian, you lie.
Lan Wangji pressed fingers to his temples, and Wei Wuxian hummed sleepily at the feeling, leaning back as far as he could go to take full advantage of it. “Your cultivation?”
It’s evil and defiled and red, chains around his heart, a demon resting where his golden core should be.
He crept a nonchalant smile into his voice. “Stronger than ever, mister Hanguang-Jun. Ah, I remember hearing things!” And still, they talked, sharing wretched, unwilling conversations in his head. “There was this really bitter old man, yapping on and on about straw hats and this woman with too many bratty kids and then, I thought that I heard yo- “
The voices virulently surrounded Wei Wuxian then, alternating between shrill whispers and cacophonic shrieks as they sang malevolent notes into his mind. Their attempt to sully the memory that had been his anchor to reality was a try at usurping his entire being, and the thread that connected it all together was wearing thin, chaffing at the edges and splintering at the ends. It was as if someone was constantly rapping at his head, knocking on a door that refused to open to any contender.
And Wei Wuxian didn’t want to break – wasn’t allowed to crack.
He was fine.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji called out, peculiarly prompting further conversation, fingers lax against the other man’s head.
Desperate words danced at the tip of Wei Wuxian’s tongue, teasing the edge of his lips as they pleaded to spill. Like a persistent itch that he yearned to graze his nails across, searing into the flesh and beading blood like a prime cut of meat. He shook himself of the feeling, curbing down the catharsis in return for a situation that would ultimately make no room for further questions.
Reluctantly, Wei Wuxian shuffled out of Lan Wangji’s grasp, the radiating warmth and envelopment of his robed arms a prominent absence as he stretched himself up to his feet. Running a hand through his hair, Wei Wuxian’s palm came back cold but not wet and he smiled at Lan Wangji’s competence.
“Got something to eat?” Wei Wuxian asked instead, ignoring that those few seconds happened at all. “I’m kinda hungry.”
There was a palpable shift in the atmosphere then, not something that invoked danger or tension but one that bled a terrible longing that Wei Wuxian felt in the pit of his stomach, and he gulped at the glowering feeling of Lan Wangji’s eyes on him from behind. He could have almost sworn that he heard him sigh before he replied:
“Time to sleep, not eat, Wei Ying.”
At that, Wei Wuxian twirled around in a flurry of dramatic robes and rogue hairs. “You’re kidding me, right Lan Zhan? You’re actually gonna sleep. Now?”
A quiet nod of, “mn,” before Lan Wangji rose ceremoniously towards the bed, sheets unruffled from remaining made from the morning. He paused, and Wei Wuxian tilted his head to the side in response, hairs casting shadows across his cheeks and lips pursed in a confused pout. Watching from his position, Lan Wangji slowly removed his outer robe, hands stuttering in their path as if freighted by fear and folded them in precise shapes, causing Wei Wuxian to giggle quietly to himself, especially when he noticed the red tint of blush dyed on the tips of Lan Wangji’s ears. Like dipping a brush in a pot of red paint.
The usual grand, hairpiece had already been exchanged for a soft ribbon and Lan Wangji ran his lithe fingers through the two partitions that sat over his shoulders, not facing the other man in the room when he said, “Wei Ying. Sleep,” and settled regally into the only bed. He laid straight on his back, not a single hair out of place as his hands came to repose on his rising chest looking like a fresh corpse arranged for their coffin while Wei Wuxian senselessly wondered how somebody could be so alignedbefore gathering on to exactly what was inferred.
“Sleep?” Wei Wuxian theatrically pirouetted in accordance to his intonation, soulful hands flailing in the air to reiterate his incredulity. “Sleep- sleep where? Who? What? How?”
Kind and reverent Lan Wangji let Wei Wuxian finish his ramble before replying, still face-up on the bed, unmoving. “Plenty of space. Come.”
Despite everything that happened, all the blood and darkness and screams, the chains stiffening his bones to immobility, heart only beating for the sake of it, Wei Wuxian found himself flushed with giddy shock, presenting itself as pink heat on the peaks of his cheekbones as he stared at the only other man in the room. There was a peculiar urge that tickled him to laugh, and Wei Wuxian almost did – nearly lost it. Was about to laugh until his throat was sore, and he could taste metal on his tongue, the salt of tears.
But he didn’t.
Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian!
He couldn’t.
WEI WUXIAN!
He wouldn’t.
The world wouldn’t let him.
But he walked the distance anyway, bare feet padding across the wooden ground, the sound rancorous in the silent room. Claiming the space Lan Wangji left for him, Wei Wuxian bundled himself into the bed, conscious of the body next to him as he tried his hardest to minimise physical contact. The stands creaked weak protests under his weight while he shuffled further into the bed, throwing the remainder of the sheets over his torso.
“How do you Lan people fall asleep so early every day?” Wei Wuxian asked the ceiling, hands coming up to hammock his head on top of the pillow. “I’m ready to go to town and drink!”
Lan Wangji’s eyes were closed when Wei Wuxian glanced at him because of the lack of response, and he huffed a quiet laugh, slowly shifting himself so that he laid on his side facing the other man’s comatic state.
Every cultivator knew of Lan Wangji’s beauty, his face perfection personified and, in that moment, Wei Wuxian couldn’t agree with that statement more. His eyelashes were long and thick, dipped in black ink and contrasting wonderfully with the pale porcelain-like form of his skin. A face that was all flawless angles and a sharp jaw, carrying the pretty features of his full lips, dyed pink from birth and even though Wei Wuxian couldn’t see them now, he could envision the liquid gold of Lan Wangji’s eyes. They were the sharpest point of a blade at times, garish and bright in those rare moments of relinquishment, and loud in the way they stared at times that would render others speechless.
And Wei Wuxian admired that about him, the heavy power he held without even opening his mouth. Someone who was born to lead and inspire along the way, a paradigm for rightness.
“Lan Zhan is too beautiful…Maybe it’s good you don’t smile much, haha.”
Indulgently, Wei Wuxian reached out for Lan Wangji’s face, fingers grazing the peaks of his cheeks and brushing away single hairs, hitching the air in his lungs when he felt the steady plume of Lan Wangji’s breath on his hand. It was indecent of him to ogle and touch when he was asleep, but Wei Wuxian wanted to admire it all, to feel the heat of another and hear the rhythm of their heartbeat so it could tell him how to be alive again.
Suddenly, a torrent of emotions brimmed within his chest and he felt the hot burn of tears prickle at his eyes, the feelings forcing their way up his oesophagus, making Wei Wuxian choke back on a breath as he tried with every ounce of his being not to cry. But it was all there, the tragedies of the Burial Mounds inscribed into his flesh, marring his soul with such terrible, despicable-
“Lan Zhan.”
It was everywhere, even when he closed his eyes. They all stared right back at him and watched him run and fall. They laughed when he got back up and poked about when he didn’t. They laid themselves all over him, not an inch of virginal skin left untouched and sometimes-
“Lan Zhan, I- I,” Wei Wuxian was stumbling over his words, cowering into himself as memories, no, reality engulfed him bit by bloody bit. “It was only once but…I heard you.”His voice trembled dangerously and he held his breath, attempting to regain composure while he palmed Lan Wangji’s cheek in his hand, cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world. “You called for me and I tried to follow you but- but…it was too strong. I wasn’t strong enough, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He screamed until his voice wouldn’t work anymore, and even then, the way he convulsed and flinched, it was enough to vocalise his disgust and pain. And god, was he in pain, so much, so much pain and he had to make it stop.
“I was waiting, Lan Zhan.”
Anything. Wei Wuxian would do anything to make it stop.
Dirt and sinew and spit sheened his lips and filled his stomach, yet there remained a protuberant barrenness inside him. He couldn’t fight back. No power, his core was gone and dead, dead, dead.
Weak and alone.
And god, was there so much pain.
“I waited.”
They told him of fairy tales fringed with diabolism, of a kind of power that only he could cultivate. That Wei Wuxian could be the master.
He just had to die once.
Wei Wuxian leaned closer to the sleeping body, hand still cupped around his face as the soft scent of sandalwood assaulted his senses, and suddenly Lan Wangji’s breath was on his lips, a gentle breeze that almost tickled. “I didn’t think I’d hear you again, Lan Zhan.”
“I waited for Wei Ying too,” Lan Zhan whispered, eyes blinking open as he pressed his face further into Wei Wuxian’s palm, completely cosseted as he trapped it there just for a touch. “I will wait for you, always.”
A course of rigid shock struck Wei Wuxian so he froze, eyes dampening up at the slight confession that he couldn’t accept. How could he? A rotten, dirty thing like him, soiled and impure in every way and only continued to deteriorate.
Wei Wuxian was-
He closed his eyes for a second, savoured the heat of Lan Wangji’s skin on his hand when he replied, “you could have told me you were awake, Lan Zhan. You get off on me embarrassing myself?”
“Just woke up now.”
“Ahh,” Wei Wuxian hummed, acquiescently retrieving his hand and moving onto his back, mimicking Lan Wangji’s previous stature. “It’s against the rules to lie, so I’ll have to believe you. Lan Zhan, do you ever think about the future? Because I do.
“I want to see my Shijie get married, be the most beautiful bride in the world. And for Jiang Cheng to be the best Sect Leader. They won’t need me then, right? Hahaa…”
“And Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian snuck a glimpse at Lan Wangji, finding that he was watching the ceiling with a silent, pensive gaze as if a revelation of some sort. It was almost comical, perhaps under another circumstance. “Me... You mean for myself?”
“Mn.”
Dirty and disgusting boys like him didn’t deserve anything.
Not a cursed one like you, not a demon like you.
“I’ll take whatever the world decides to give me,” Wei Wuxian said albeit a tad wistfully, though he hid it by leaning his head on an elbow and facing Lan Wangji again. “What does Lan Zhan want?”
The silence was drawled out like it was controlled by the burning of incense on a cold day and Lan Wangji abruptly turned his body sideways, a hand reaching out to grasp the one that Wei Wuxian wasn’t using as a holder. His palm was hot, as if caught on fire but soft like it was on the verge of melting, and each long finger caught on to Wei Wuxian’s like a fine grip, steadfast in its conviction.
“Want Wei Ying.”
And the funny thing about it all was that Lan Wangji hadn’t changed a bit when he said the words. Hadn’t spoken in a stronger tenor or looked at Wei Wuxian any differently, he was irrefutably himself, as if he had always felt that way, that his future was to be side by side with Wei Wuxian despite it all.
Even though Wei Wuixan was like this.
Wei Wuxian didn’t let go of his hand, but didn’t reciprocate the clutch. “Oh Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. Your uncle will choke in his sleep if he ever heard you be so shameless. Why someone like me? There’s plenty of pretty Lan girls around- “
“Only one Wei Ying.”
-dead.
“And there’s only one Lan Zhan, Hanguang-Jun,” Wei Wuxian rephrased, this time squeezing Lan Wangji’s hand as he spoke. “You don’t want to waste you on me. And when your feelings change, I won’t mind. I promise. It’s actually enough that you said that. I’m flattered. For the rest of my life, but now, all this talk has made me tired. You’re probably tired too. I need to get up early to head to Yunmeng so let’s sleep now.”
Then he slipped his hand of out of Lan Wangji’s, letting it flutter to his own side where it belonged because someone like him could never stand with Lan Wangji. He sighed, theatrically stretching his limbs as he shifted to his side, totally blocking out the other man on the bed, like he was the only one on it.
This was fine. This was fine. This was how it was meant to be.
“Wei Ying.”
You are not Wei Wuxian.
“Yeah, Lan Zhan?”
“Wei Ying…. Goodnight.”
A terrible coil of sorrow constricted his throat then, and Wei Wuxian bit his lip in hopes that the sting of pain would suspend the incoming emotions. This was fine.
“Yeah, goodnight Lan Zhan.”
Only after Wei Wuxian was certain that Lan Wangji had succumbed to sleep once again, did he whimper out horrid sobs of sadness, of longing, of loneliness.
It crawled out of him like a baby cub fresh out of the womb, immature and alone, unable to walk, or to talk. Wei Wuxian was quiet in his grief, the cries little whispers of sound that even he could barely hear but he felt it all, thrumming his blood hot and wetting his face in streaks of tears.
He didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know who he was.
But it had to be fine because the rest of the world thought they knew who Wei Wuxian was and perhaps he would play that part until it killed him.