For SM-maybe after ripping our hearts out, we get a cute shirt fluffy one? I’m thinking after their wedding, there’s a scene like the end of Pride and Prejudice 2005? “What terms of endearment am I allowed, then?” LWJ to WWX. Just a thought. Delighted with everything you write.
Shattered Mirrors 72
[ set after #62 ]
Night has fallen by the time Lan Wangji is able to remove himself from the celebrations and return to his rooms, leaving the remaining guests in his cousin’s capable hands. Lan Guoyan even manages to dissuade some of the rowdier attendees from trying to storm the bedchamber—protectiveness flares in his chest at the thought of them in such a private space, not to mention seeing Wei Wuxian in his wedding finery—something for which Lan Wangji is immensely grateful. He resolves to thank him properly later, once everything has settled, but for now he hastens his stride through the winding pathways to his bedchamber.
He is relieved to find the candles within still lit when he arrives, half-fearing that the uncharacteristic lateness of his arrival would mean Wei Wuxian had already retired to bed.
It is your wedding night, he reminds himself, heat rising to his ears. Of course he would wait.
From inside, he hears the sound of laughter and recognises Wei Wuxian; the other voice he presumes to be Mo Xuanyu, who scarcely leaves Wei Wuxian’s side except to run errands. The third voice, however, is somewhat unexpected. He waves down the servants at the door before they can announce his arrival, and crosses the threshold when they open the doors, surprising the occupants inside.
“Wangye!”
Lan Jingyi scrambles to his feet, pulling Mo Xuanyu along with him, both of them seated on the floor at Wei Wuxian’s feet. Wei Wuxian himself is sitting at the edge of the bed in his wedding finery, red veil still obscuring his features from view, his hands folded neatly on his lap as the two boys bow low.
“Jingyi, Mo Xuanyu.” They flinch and keep their heads bowed. “The wedding chamber is off-limits at this hour.”
“Wangye,” they chorus, wearing matching expressions of guilt. “Forgive our intrusion. We will leave at once.”
“Wangye, don’t tease,” Wei Wuxian chides, lifting a corner of the veil to peek out at them with a smile. “They were keeping me company while you were out entertaining your guests.”
“Our guests,” Lan Wangji corrects him. He shoots the boys another look. “You are all dismissed. Take the rest of the night off.”
“Yes, Wangye.” Lan Jingyi grabs Mo Xuanyu by the arm and all but drags him to the door. He smiles at them, all cheek and humour, as they pull them closed. “Best wishes to Wangye and Wangfei for a happy, prosperous union.”
Embarrassment burns at Lan Wangji’s neck and ears and he is almost tempted to march out after them to dole out punishment for their impertinence. It seems he has been too indulgent with Lan Jingyi lately for him to speak so out of place. He will need to correct that first thing tomorrow—
“Your concubine greets Hanguang-wangye.”
He turns at the sound of rustling to find Wei Wuxian has slipped from the bed, sinking to his knees with his head bowed, the perfect picture of a docile, obedient wife greeting her new husband. The thought stirs something deep in his chest, something heated and possessive; he takes a step forward, careful and measured, as if treading too quickly would scare Wei Wuxian away. He reaches for him, sliding his hands under his elbows to help him to his feet, draws him close until the veil brushes against his chin and he can feel the Wei Wuxian tremble in his arms.
“Wei Ying,” he murmurs. A soft, shaky sigh stirs the edges of the veil. “You do not need to bow to me.”
Hands turn over to grasp his forearms in return, the wide sleeves of the wedding robes falling back to reveal pale, slender wrists. The golden bangles, from the Empress herself as a wedding gift, almost dwarf them in their size.
“Wangye is too kind,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. “Your concubine is only observing the proper customs expected of a spouse of the Imperial Family.”
Lan Wangji sighs. “Wei Ying, do not tease.”
The trembling turns into shaking as Wei Wuxian breaks out into soft laughter. It breaks the tension that has settled over the room since Lan Wangji entered; the breath rushes from his lungs and he, too, chuckles. He runs his hands up along Wei Wuxian’s upper arms, admiring the silky smoothness of the fabric, the way it drapes just so—even through the many layers of fabric, he can feel the curve of his shoulders, the jut of his collarbone, the rush of his pulse; Wei Wuxian’s breath hitches when his fingers brush against the sensitive skin of his neck and he draws back a fraction, uncertain.
“Is something wrong?” A shake of the head. “Then…will you allow me to lift your veil?”
“Yes.”
His breath had caught in his throat when he’d first laid eyes on Wei Wuxian this morning at Jing Manor; even with the long silk veil completely covering his head and face from view, there is no masking the slope of his shoulders, the grace of his movements, the way the layers and layers of red silk fall and drape over his frame. His skin is paler now than it had been in his youth, his body less toned and muscular, less sharp angles and more gentle curves, but the shape of his mouth, the way his grey eyes dance with starlight and mischief as the veil slips from his shoulders with a sigh—all of that is uniquely Wei Ying.
In the intervening years since they had last seen each other, he had often pictured in his dreams how Wei Wuxian would look if they had been able to marry. He would wear his hair in the intricate style of an Imperial spouse, with braids and gold pins holding it all together; his robes would be a darker red, almost crimson, the hems embroidered with the flowing clouds of the Gusu Lan Imperial Family in golden thread.
He would be so beautiful, Lan Wangji would think upon waking, when the yearning would tear at his chest until he choked with it.
He is breathtaking.
“Wangye? Hanguang-wangye? Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian lowers his eyes, obedient and demure, but his voice anything but as he murmurs: “Fujun?”
A pleased rumble sounds from his throat before Lan Wangji can stop it; Wei Wuxian laughs in delight as Lan Wangji flushes, mortified. Cool hands reach up to cup his face, tracing the line of his jaw and coming to rest against the burning skin on the back of his neck.
“Fujun,” Wei Wuxian repeats, rolling the new title on his tongue with relish. “Allow your concubine to serve you tonight.”
“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s voice is pained. “You do not need to address yourself thus.”
“Oh?” The hands at his neck trail down to his chest. “Then how shall we address each other, Fujun? If I address my husband by name in public, they will think our manners lacking.”
Lan Wangji takes both hands in his and gives them a gentle squeeze.
“Wangye, in public,” he allows. He runs his thumbs along the back of his hands as he thinks. “My name, at home.”
“And Fujun?” Wei Wuxian asks, teasing. Lan Wangji growls.
“Only in private,” he says roughly; one hand shifts so it covers both of Wei Wuxian’s while the other wraps around his waist to draw him close. Wei Wuxian laughs again, breathless and giddy.
“Then you must do the same for me,” he counters, his eyes dark and face flushed. His tongue comes out to wet his lips, and Lan Wangji suddenly cannot look away. “Although I cannot promise to always address you correctly in private.”
“You may address me however you wish, in private,” Lan Wangji tells him, lowering his head to brush their noses together. A thrill runs through him when Wei Wuxian does not pull away.
“Oh?” The word dances over his lips. “So you would not mind if I call you Lan-er-gege, as before?” Lan Wangji shakes his head with a smile. “How about…Er-lang?”
Lan Wangji closes his eyes, his grip tightening around Wei Wuxian’s waist as he tries to calm his pounding heart. When he opens them again, Wei Wuxian’s eyes are half-lidded and dark. His throat suddenly feels as dry as sand. He clears his throat.
“That is allowed,” he says, voice hoarse. He brushes their lips together, feather-light. “You may call me however you wish…A-Ying.”
He closes the scant distance between them and brings their lips together.
--
Notes:
fujun (夫君) - husband, more formal and old-fashioned (male version of furen 夫人)
er-lang (二郎) - previously used in Part #55, an affectionate address similar to er-gege, most often used between married couples
* WWX also refers to himself here as qieshen (妾身), which is an old-fashioned, humble form of address used by wives when speaking to their husbands; it translates to “this concubine”, but he is definitely the “wife” (main/legal spouse)
In general, married couples back then (especially those where the husband has a title) do not refer to each other by name in public (or even sometimes at home). They would refer to the other by their title or honorific when with other people (e.g. WWX would refer to LWJ as wangye when talking to others) or use a humble form of their relationship “title”, for lack of a better word (e.g. a husband would refer to their wife as neijian (内贱) - “humble wife”, nei literally meaning ‘interior, internal’ and thus referring to the wife as the one inside their home; jian meaning humble or lowly).
For the cam boy AU—Sinful smut #10. Or #7, please. Thank you. (:
Hi! I hope you’ll forgive me for using Prompt #7 “You want to do this right now? Even though we could get caught?” in an slightly different way. I needed to get this bit of plot out of the way so later prompt responses make sense.
Previous Parts of this AU
Prompt List (but prompts are closed.)
This is the 4th consecutive ficlet. Though I might have other ones that I go back and add previous to these events. No NSFW content in this one, sorry! ;)
-
Lan Wangji follows behind his brother dutifully, not paying much attention to his surroundings. He couldn’t count how many of these business affairs he attends, but they’re all the same. A sea of dark suits and fake smiles, people only interested in what he could do for them. As head of the US branch of the Lan Corporation, he can’t avoid them often.
But luckily, when it was really important, like tonight, his brother tries to fly in. Lan Wangji is always glad to see his brother, glad to be able to spend time with him and discuss business matters with him. And, also, not to have to try to talk to important people himself.
Ahead of him, Lan Xichen comes to a halt and greets someone. Lan Wangji sweeps his gaze up, seeing Jiang Fengmian and his assorted delegation. And then he freezes. Several feet behind the CEO of Jiang Ltd, are two stragglers. And one of them…it‘s him. Laozu.
Lan Wangji doesn’t have a second of doubt in his mind, despite the conservative black suit and lack of make-up. He’s talking to the man next to him, gesturing with his hands. His hair is slicked back into a neat ponytail. But it is him.
Wangji feels like he’s floating, a bit like he’s dreaming, and is only slammed back to reality, back into his body when a hand grabs his forearm and squeezes.
Through the loud pounding of his heart he hears his brother saying his name. “Wangji?” He meets his brother’s eyes and can see the concern there, see how strange he is behaving reflected in Lan Xichen’s widening eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says automatically. “Sorry, xiongzhang.” He turns towards Jiang Fengmian. “Good evening, Jiang-zong. Apologies.”
He tries to pay attention to the exchange of pleasantries that resume after his awkward bow, but his eyes are drawn magnetically back to Laozu, who is still heading directly towards him. He gets closer and closer and then he looks up right at Lan Wangji. He cocks his head in a quizzical look. Lan Wangji is staring, of course he’s staring. And of course Laozu doesn’t recognize him. Of course he couldn’t. Still, Lan Wangji feels naked, exposed, as if everyone around can surely see his entire internet search history glowing over his head.
“Ah,” says the affable head of the Jiang family. “Lan Wangji, I believe you’ve met my son?” And indeed, the man who walked up with Laozu is Jiang Cheng, with whom Lan Wangji has spoken a few times. He nods and offers what he hopes is a polite greeting. He tries to keep his eyes where they should be, but he can’t help flicking looks over to the other young man.
“And this is my adopted son, Wei Wuxian.” Lan Wangji locks eyes with Laozu at this, and automatically extends his hand. The young man looks a bit surprised for a moment and then more slowly stretches his own out to grasp Lan Wangji’s. Wei Wuxian. They are skin to skin now, he and the man he’s been obsessed with for months. Who he’s spoken with weekly, with whom he’s formed a strange, false kind of friendship.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, and it sounds strange to his own ears, weirdly inflected.
Laozu, Wei Wuxian, pauses and then asks, “Have we met before?”
“No,” Lan Wangji bites out. “I don’t believe so.” He’s still gripping the more delicate hand in his own and he feels a sudden flinch. A sudden jerk away, that causes the hand to fall from his own.
“Oh,” says Wei Wuxian vaguely, and there’s something new in his face. Now Lan Wangji isn’t the only one staring. Has he recognized Lan Wangji as his regular patron?
Next to him Lan Xichen is carrying on a conversation that Lan Wangji can’t parse at all at the moment. Wei Wuxian stares at him for a moment more and Lan Wangji wants to say something, to hold Laozu’s attention, but doesn’t know what.
Then Wei Wuxian turns away and coughs. Next to him Jiang Cheng is glaring. Wei Wuxian gestures to the bar and heads in that direction without taking his leave. Jiang Cheng exchanges looks with his father and then follows. Lan Wangji can see Wei Wuxian ordering a drink and then downing half of it thirstily, while his adopted brother apparently berates him for his rudeness.
A bump against his elbow diverts his attention back to the conversation taking place to his left and he forces himself to focus. He manages to say farewell to the Jiang CEO without further offense, he hopes. As the others walk away, Lan Xichen turns to him and gives him a look of inquiry. Lan Wangji can only shake his head mutely.
He looks to the bar and then back at his brother. He bows his head in something like an unspoken apology and heads for the bar, feeling Lan Xichen’s eyes on his back. He approaches the bar a couple feet away from where Wei Wuxian leans against the wooden surface. Jiang Cheng is speaking but his brother has gone silent. Lan Wangji doesn’t look over, just keeps his gaze forward until the bartender comes over and takes his order for a seltzer.
“Jiang Cheng, look, your father is probably looking for you and if he isn’t, your mother is. I’m fine, I just need a drink before I have to put up with anymore boring politician speeches. Can’t believe I let you talk me into coming.”
“You didn’t,” his brother replies, “pretty sure it was the threat to your tuition money if you missed another family event.”
“Hey!” objects Wei Wuxian. “I’m here, aren’t I? Just gimme a moment’s peace.” There’s some abbreviated shoving between the two young men and then the Jiang heir walks off, leaving Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian alone.
For a moment neither of them speaks. Then Lan Wangji turns to face the back of the man next to him, who’s still leaning on the counter draining his glass. He keeps his body facing away from Lan Wangji and calls out for a refill.
Lan Wangji clears his throat. Only then does the man next to him move, turning slightly and swiveling his head until he can glance over at Lan Wangji out of the corner of his eyes. The breath catches in Lan Wangji’s throat at the intensity of the look. There’s a fierce intelligence in those eyes, none of the lazy ease he associates with Laozu. And also something like a challenge.
Their gazes lock for several moments. “You recognized me,” says Lan Wangji finally. Something flickers in Wei Wuxian’s eyes…perhaps regret?
The bartender sets another glass down in front of him and Wei Wuxian smiles, passing over a bill with a flirtatious wink. “Don’t worry about the change.” Then he pushes back and stands, drink in hand, and begins walking away, without a look at Lan Wangji.
Anger flares in his chest and Lan Wangji hurries after him with long strides. As Wei Wuxian nears an opening to one of the many corridors of the hotel, Lan Wangji reaches out and grabs for his arm.
“Hey!” objects Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji ignores him, continuing into the hallway, pulling the other man along behind him. He tugs him around a corner, out of sight of the mingling crowds.
“Hey, what are you doing?” repeats Wei Wuxian. Then he stumbles to a halt and his posture shifts. He gives Lan Wangji a wicked look. “You want to do this right now? Even though we could get caught?” To underscore his meaning, he licks his lips slowly.
Lan Wangji scoffs at the jest. “Ridiculous.” But the sudden turn from affronted to seductive throws him a little. He clears his throat and straightens his jacket. “We recognized each other.”
“Did we?” The grin that Wei Wuxian send him as he says this is infuriating. Would the man not take this seriously?
“Yes,” Lan Wangji grits out through his teeth. “Laozu.” Despite the other man’s casual demeanor, he sees him suppress a flinch at the name.
“It’s so surprising to see you, and it’s not even a Tuesday.” The casual air was back in Wei Wuxian’s voice. Lan Wangji cocks his head and then realizes.
“No. Wednesday.” It’s a test. To verify his identity. He supposes someone in Laozu’s position has to be careful.
“Right…my mistake.” Wei Wuxian waves it away with a hand. “So, what now, Lightbringer?”
Lan Wangji can see the tension in the other man’s neck, the shifting of his adam’s apple. Despite his confident demeanor, Wei Wuxian is uneasy.
Lan Wangji intentionally relaxes his stance. “Nothing,” he insists.
“Nothing?” Wei Wuxian’s voice is incredulous. Lan Wangji shrugs. “You dragged me into a hallway for nothing?” Is there something flirty in his voice again? Maybe it’s just habit by now.
“No,” Lan Wangji replies. “But now we both know who the other is.” He hesitates, a thought occurring to him for the first time. “I won’t expose you,” he rushes to assure.
“Yeah,” says the other with a shaky laugh. “Good.”
“Did you think I would?”
“Uh,” Wei Wuxian shrugs. “No, not really. But, you know, it’s kinda my nightmare, really, being recognized. Especially someplace like this.” Lan Wangji nods. He feels guilty suddenly, for instigating this scene, despite the situation being beyond his control. He doesn’t know whether he should mention that he hardly wants his involvement with that kind of thing exposed either. He errs on the side of not speaking.
“So, uh…” Wei Wuxian seems to be waiting for something, but when it doesn’t come, he shrugs again and continues, “Well, I guess I should get back to the Jiangs. And you to your brother.” Lan Wangji nods.
The other man gives him a half-hearted smile and turns away.Before he’s taken more than step or two, Lan Wangji calls after him, “Wei Wuxian?” The slight figure freezes and spins back to face him.
“Yes, Lan Wangji?”Lan Wangji inhales a breath. All at once the beauty of this man strikes him full force. The desire he’s felt over months for him waking up inside him. He nearly staggers from it.
“Wednesday,” he chokes out.
“Yes?” Wei Wuxian cocks his head. “Oh, yes? See you then?” Lan Wangji nods. Wei Wuxian lifts a hand and turns back around and walks away.
Once he’s out of sight Lan Wangji feels his legs go a bit weak and he slowly leans back against the textured wall of the hallway. He focuses on his breathing and wills the shaky feeling away, taking one slow breath at a time. It’s only Friday, and Wednesday seems an eternity away.
Btw, I’ve read all of Hook Line and Sinker, I just haven’t gotten around to commenting on the later chapters. I loved it! What a wonderful fic. And 17 weeks!!!! The chapter updates were the highlight to the weekend. Cheers! Thanks for writing. :)
hhpharaoh replied to your post “my boobs sit so far apart from each other and it is absolutely...”
I feel you. I’m small enough I can get away with not wearing a bra. But sometimes you just want the girls covered! Without feeling uncomfortable. Is that too much to ask?
i do not have that luxury at all 😂😂😂 i just want to chop them off and start over from scratch IT IS NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK WE DESERVE THIS WE DESERVE NICE THINGS
hhpharaoh replied to your post “For the cam boy AU—Sinful smut #10. Or #7, please. Thank you. (:”
It’s *chefs kiss* amazing!!! Loving it. Hope you and yours are doing okay. Thank you for writing!
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it!
And yes, we’re doing fine. Just 15 days into isolation. Luckily we’re both introverts. And my mom, who had contact with people from one of the infected cruise ships, is okay after two weeks so...so far so good.
I love The Repair Shop! I’ve been trying to get more people into it! �� glad to find someone else who enjoys it.
It’s totally methadone for the British Bake-Off addiction. Plus as a seamstress and sometime prop-maker I just love watching awesome people craft things. It’s been my knitting TV this week.
