Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Ah, Nie-xiong, before you get serious, you should have fun!”

There’s a gleam in Wei Wuxian’s eyes that sends a thrill down Nie Huaisang’s spine. “Fun?” he asks eagerly. 

“Fun!” Wei Wuxian repeats, grinning. 

“Wei Wuxian, stop messing around,” Jiang Cheng quips up from behind them. “Not everyone’s a pretty girl by the river looking for a good time.”

Oh, but he is. Huaisang is not a girl, and the cold mountain springs are probably a far cry from lazy Yunmeng rivers, but he is pretty - a fact he knows and uses to lots of pleasurable advantage - and he’s always looking for a good time. 

Wei Wuxian is a bully sometimes, but he keeps his promises. The fish they (mostly Wei Wuxian) manage to catch are roasting on a makeshift spit and Nie Huaisang is spread out on a sunwarmed rock while his new friend sucks his cock. 

Huaisang bites on his fist to keep his noises down, but it’s useless either way. His robes are drying on a completely different rock and his hair is totally unbound, also for quick drying purposes. Nobody who comes by is going to be fooled. 

Wei Wuxian laps at the tip of his cock with the same enthusiasm as he does anything else. His clever tongue licks at the slit, then runs down the underside.

His fingers wander over to Huaisang’s puckered entrance, and he grins when he feels it flutter. 

“Ah, Nie-xiong,” he says. “What a pity we don’t have anything for it.”

"Maybe it's for the best," Wei Wuxian continues when Nie Huaisang raises his head to see. "We wouldn't be able to do much out here with that old man hanging around."

"Old man?" Huaisang asks, thoughts still scattered under the sun and breeze and arousal.

"Lan Zhan,” says Wei Wuxian, and telegraphs his feelings on the matter by leaning on Huaisang’s thighs like they’re his personal pillows. “Tell me, what kind of person prefers to punish someone for hours instead of accepting a simple apology?" 

"Huh," Huaisang notes his abandoned cock with regret, but turns this information in his head. "Maybe he needs a distraction.”

“What kind of distraction?” 

Huaisang guides the hand on his thigh back to his cock. “Maybe this kind,” he suggests with a knowing smile. 

Wei Wuxian smiles back, resuming with his hand what his mouth was doing earlier. It’s not a poor substitute, actually. “Ahaha, Nie-xiong, if only everyone was like you— pretty and fun.”

Huaisang shivers and preens. “I bet you say this to all the girls in Yunmeng.”

“And it’s true every time,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “But Nie-xiong, you wouldn’t just give me an idea without the means to carry it out, would you?”

“Oh?” The slyness in his tone should set off warning bells, but Huaisang is thoroughly distracted by certain long and tenacious strokes between his legs. “No?”

“Then, you’ll do it - you’ll lend me one of your picture books?”

“Wha..?” Huaisang pants, hips quaking. “Yes, sure, whatever you want.”

“You are a true friend, Nie-xiong.”

A firm twist, and Huaisang comes, spraying over his belly and the grasses below. A spark from their cookfire explodes into the air at the same time, and Huaisang’s vision clears to the sight of Wei Wuxian running away from him to their catch of the day. 

"Fish are done!" he calls, snatching up the skewers from the fire. "I’m taking two for me and A-Cheng; here’s your share." 

Huaisang’s shaking fingers are handed a skewer of hot, charred fish, dripping its searing juices far too close to his exposed nipples. Not that it matters to Wei Wuxian, who just gives him a wet kiss before taking his leave. 

"See you tomorrow, Nie-xiong," he calls, waving behind him as he runs down the hills. "Remember your promise!"

‘W-wei-xiong! ...ugh.”

Huaisang gives up and slouches back on the rock to eat his hard won dinner. A shameless thing to be doing while naked and out in the open, sure, but somehow he gets the feeling Lan Wangji isn't looking for excuses to spend hours doling out discipline to him.

The next night, Huaisang is ushered into the room Wei Wuxian shares with his sharp-edged brother. Jiang Cheng watches him as he comes in, like a cat watching a particularly delicious canary, so of course Huaisang makes sure he looks pretty as he produces a small wrapped item from his robes. 

He unwraps the little cake and sets it in a dish atop the tea brazier. 

“What’s that?” Jiang Cheng asks. He’s leaning back on his arms to watch Huaisang work. His long legs are stretched out under the table and the fall of his robes reveals a creamy line going from his ankle to a flash of inner thigh just above his knee, making it clear that he’s foregone trousers for the night. 

“For later,” Huaisang says sweetly. “Wei-xiong promised me some more fun tonight and I bought this to make things a bit easier.”

Jiang Cheng scowls, for some reason. 

He isn't scowling later though, when they're through one of the jars of Emperor's Smile, and Wei Wuxian is palming Huaisang's ass, muttering something about smooth and full-bodied.

Huaisang squirms in his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. "Wei-xiong, you promised !"

"Aiya, and they say I'm impatient," Wei Wuxian comments, but he dutifully dips his fingers in the melted oil on the brazier and slides them down the cleft of Huaisang's rear until they're once again probing at his hole.

It really is a shame he's still in his robes, Huaisang thinks even as he pushes back into the delicious intrusion; he would really like the Jiang heir to see what's being done to him. To watch his shixiong's fingers slide inside Nie Huaisang and rub his inner walls. Gods above, Wei Wuxian is as clever and creative in this as he is in everything. 

Huaisang darts his pink wet tongue to lick his bottom lip because he's starting to get into that really warm and melty place, right before a good fuck. On instinct, he grinds down on Wei Wuxian's fingers, letting out the prettiest gasps and moans in his repertoire to encourage his friend. His own cock stirs to join the proceedings, slowly swelling and dripping from the slit, but Huaisang ignores it for now to rock his hips to get more.

"More, Wei-xiong," he whines. "I want to be filled up tonight, I want to come on a hard cock!"

Someone curses, roughly and with lots of feeling. 

Huaisang only realizes it wasn't Wei Wuxian when the fingers go away and his friend grins in that dreadful and mischievous way.

"Jiang Cheng," he says sweetly. "Catch!"

"Wahh—!?"

With a dash of spiritual energy, Wei Wuxian flings Huaisang clear across the table into Jiang Cheng's lap, where he lands in a flurry of loose robes, slick thighs, and more importantly, very empty.

"Are you insane?!" Jiang Cheng yells, at the same time Huaisang cries, "You are such a bully, Wei-xiong! I'll tell da-ge and you will pay dearly!"

"What will you tell him, eh?" Wei Wuxian laughs. "That you were begging for Yunmeng-Jiang cock and were denied the divine experience?"

"Maybe I'll say that I was disappointed!" Huaisang retorts, cheeks puffed.

"You won't be disappointed," Wei Wuxian winks. Then, he looks past Huaisang to his brother. "Go ahead, shidi, you look like you need this."

All at once, Huaisang remembers he's in Jiang Cheng's arms and he's sprawled against a very nice body. Jiang Cheng smells like lotus oil and sword metal, and the way his hands skitter eagerly into the parting of Huaisang's robes make him melt again.

Oh, this one is different from his brother. Jiang Cheng moves like he's searching for relief, probably because he spends all his time being an upright student and practicing his sword, so he must neglect his other blade. Huaisang loves it; the ones who need to blow off some steam are always the best because they don't waste time teasing, they want to bury themselves inside him and just fuck, and it's all Huaisang can think about now. 

Jiang Cheng tips him on to the floor mat and presses up against his back. His hand migrates from palming Huaisang's cock to pulling up his robes so Jiang Cheng can get at his hole again. Huaisang shivers at the sensation of warm air on his thighs, at the sound of rustling silks as Jiang Cheng is no doubt hiking apart his own robes to pull out his cock. Huaisang tries to look over his shoulder to see what this supposedly divine member looks like, but Jiang Cheng reaches over him for oil and heat spreads across Huaisang's puckered opening again.

As anticipated, Jiang Cheng is indeed efficient. He's silent like a repressed rock, but gods, he pumps his fingers in and out vigorously, drawing the best moans from Huaisang's lips.

Huaisang feels heady as he clutches at the floor mat for life, and he whines and whines while Jiang Cheng works him. 

"Put it in him, shidi," mumbles Wei Wuxian, obviously chewing peanuts while he watches them, the little gremlin. 

Jiang Cheng grunts. "Is that what you want, Nie Huaisang?"

"Yes!" Huaisang insists desperately. "Listen to your shixiong and put it in me!"

A snort, but the fingers slide out and something thicker and hotter comes nudging at his rear. Finally, finally ! Huaisang greedily rubs back against Jiang Cheng's wet cock and—

"Lan Zhan!"

What?! Huaisang doesn't even have time to think before Jiang Cheng manhandles him back to a semblance of decency and pulls him upright.

Both Yunmeng brothers look aghast at the sight of Lan Wangji, while Huaisang is still caught between arousal and annoyance. The Second Jade can scold them all he wants, he thinks, but why can’t it wait until tomorrow? Why—

“Lan Zhan, we were just—uh...” Wei Wuxian gets up and starts talking, deliberately drawing Lan Wangji’s eyes away from his companions and the table burdened with contraband. His hands are moving so fast that Huaisang feels dizzy, but apparently , Jiang Cheng sees something he doesn’t. 

For the third or fourth or fifth fucking time that night, Huaisang is roughly handled like he’s a sack of grain and hauled out of the room. Though he’s drunk and bearing his own weight along with Huaisang’s, Jiang Cheng doesn’t stop (fuck, but what else can that strength do? ) until they’re in a clearing behind the dorm rooms. There, though, he stumbles on the grass and sends them both sprawling. 

They painfully roll on their backs and stare at the sky, waiting for the world to stop spinning. 

Huaisang watches the stars twirl overhead and giggles. Jiang Cheng claps a hand near the vicinity of his mouth, fingers splayed. “Ssh!”

But Huaisang can’t help it. The night is warm, he’s on the right side of drunkenness, and the breeze - gods, the breeze feels like it’s physically caressing his skin. He turns and throws a leg over Jiang Cheng’s only to hit bare flesh. That’s right - the missing trousers. 

Huaisang presses in and rubs his leg against a muscular golden thigh. He chases Jiang Cheng’s hitched breath and nudges the bottom of his own robes open so they’re flesh to flesh. Jiang Cheng makes such a desperate noise that Huaisang wonders if he’s going to come just like that, in the bushes, with Huaisang’s cock dragging in the creases of his body. 

What a waste that would be.

“Jiang-xiong,” Huaisang edges closer to him, pushing his chest into Jiang Cheng’s side. “My rooms are close.”

“Mm,” Jiang Cheng says. “But first…” 

Huaisang gasps as they flip and Jiang Cheng rolls on top of him, legs still entangled in their robes, but now the other boy’s hands are pushing his lapels apart and kissing his throat, then his breastbone, and then his nipple. Jiang Cheng’s mouth opens greedily around the pink nub and he suckles like he’s going to be rewarded. 

For his part, Huaisang gasps and pants at the sensation. His cock swells between his legs and rubs against another hard length, drawing moans from both of them. 

“Jiang-xiong,” Huaisang whines, desperately pawing at his head when the teeth worrying his nipple don’t stop. “The other one too! Please!”

Obediently, Jiang Cheng shifts to the other nipple and lavishes it with the same obscene attention. One of his hands twists the nipple he just came off of; the other uses the grassy plain as leverage to grind down between Huaisang’s legs. 

“Aah ah ah!” Huaisang’s voice gets higher with each moment. 

Jiang Cheng lifts his head and frowns at him, ineffectual because he is still drunk. “Do you want us to get caught?”

Huaisang wants them to fuck. “My room,” he says. 

Jiang Cheng huffs and rises up way too nimbly for someone whose erection is still visible. Huaisang’s mouth waters at the obscene bulge tenting the pure white Gusu disciple robes. Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem self conscious about it as he stares with his own hunger as Huaisang’s exposed chest.

It’s a miracle they make it to Huaisang’s room. As it is, Jiang Cheng pushes him inside and fairly tosses him on the bed, face down, ass in the air. The erection he’d been lusting over pushes up against it, still behind too many layers of clothing. 

Still, they enjoy the friction while Huaisang fumbles under his pillow for a vial of oil. While Jiang Cheng takes off his outer robes and coats his cock, Huaisang strips off his own robes and lies back, legs open. This is his best angle, he knows; this is how he wants it, his back on luxurious sheets and his sensitive front exposed to whatever pleasurable onslaught he has coming. So he’s a wanton, he’ll copy the rules forbidding it tomorrow - if he can’t convince Xichen-ge to let him off easy.

Jiang Cheng goes straight for his prize. With singular determination, he throws Huaisang’s leg over his shoulder and pushes his cock against a now loosened, fluttering hole. Huaisang cants his hips up to meet it, relaxing against every inch until he’s swallowed Jiang Cheng whole. Oh. Oh, this is good - his ass stretched smooth around a sizable cock, and Jiang Cheng’s trained body and handsome face looming above, Huaisang can’t help but be overwhelmed by the sensuality of it all. 

“A-Cheng,” he keens, not caring about the informality. “Please fuck me, please, I’ve been waiting for so long!” 

And Jiang Cheng is nothing but obedient. He braces himself and thrusts, slow, shallow experiments at first, but then he pulls nearly all the way out before slamming back in. Clearly his endless practicing has paid off because his body moves like an oiled mechanism. It’s smooth and powerful and just doesn’t stop plundering his channel over and over again! He’s perfect. And Huaisang whimpers lustfully around his fist. 

“Do you like this, A-Cheng?” he asks when Jiang Cheng’s breath catches. “Do you like my mouth? I’ll put it on you, just ask ok? Just - oh! - ask.”

Marvel of marvels, Jiang Cheng speeds up. His trim waist slots perfectly between Huaisang’s legs, not too soft, not too bony. He drops his eyes from Huaisang’s mouth and travels all over his body, so intensely that Huaisang flushes, cheeks to throat to the very tip of his cock. 

He pulls his fist from his mouth to grab it and whine when it pulses against his own palm. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng seems to remember he can multitask and he slides his free hand up Huaisang’s ribs and over his chest, pulling at the nipple he’d tasted earlier. Huaisang notes this preference and arches up obligingly. 

“Yes, A-Cheng, your hands - gods, why is everything about you perfect?”

A breathless whimper. 

Huaisang flicks his eyes up to see this... expression on Jiang Cheng’s face. His heart speeds up; he doesn't know what it is, but he doesn’t want it to go away. He strokes his cock and babbles in the undertows of pleasure. 

“You’re so beautiful, a-Cheng, how did I get so lucky? How did I meet you?” he pants. The words are true, so they flow like water. “Your mouth, your cock - it’s like you’re made for this. Made just for me...”

“Huaisang,” comes a strangled lament, tumbling into the night. “ Huaisang!”

Slim fingers finally make it to his mouth, musky and salty, and Huaisang encloses them in heat, like his back passage closes around Jiang Cheng’s length whenever it thrusts home. He drowns in the ferocity of it all - the cock inside him, the fingers pressing on his tongue, his own cock desperately fucking his fist. 

“A-Cheng,” he mumbles around his mouthful. And he’s rewarded with a soft, knowing wail. And then a rush of warmth as Jiang Cheng spills inside him. 

Huaisang comes over his own stomach, barely registering the mess because he’s still full - of everything. Not for long, though; Jiang Cheng’s fingers withdraw first and then, carefully, his cock. Huaisang’s spent member twitches at the feeling of come slipping out of his hole, but really, it’s the way Jiang Cheng stares at it in wonder. 

When he touches a fingertip to the slick, leaking entrance, Huaisang clenches for him obligingly. Jiang Cheng looks away, as if embarrassed. One day. One day, Huaisang will have him where he wants him, but right now, he’s boneless and sticky and needs to sleep away all the pleasant aches in his body.

At the foot of the bed, Jiang Cheng gets up and puts his outer robe back on, one eye toward the windows for any stray Jades. When he looks over awkwardly, Huaisang sighs his bliss, wiggling down into the sheets. “Sleep well, a-Cheng,” he says. “And remember, just ask any time, ok?”

It’s too dark to see, but Jiang Cheng is probably blushing. He nods jerkily and turns to the door. “Goodnight, Nie Huaisang.”

The next day, they’re all disciplined with the bastinado and everyone seems to be in a bad mood. Huaisang had clocked Wei Wuxian as someone who forgot the pain as soon as the bite stopped, but he’s been moping the whole day about Lan Wangji’s self-effacing ways. This makes Jiang Cheng upset that his shixiong is upset about Lan Wangji. This in turn threatens to bleed over to Nie Huaisang, because he’s suddenly become invested in these stupid brothers - Wei Wuxian for entertainment and Jiang Cheng for...other entertainment. 

But word is that Jiang Cheng is on the training field, a place Huaisang does his best to avoid (though he has never been more tempted than he is now), so he saunters into the back hills. Fortune of fortunes, there is Wei Wuxian. 

“It is hardly your fault,” he tells his friend, sitting beside him. “Didn’t you say he chose to break the rules?”

Wei Wuxian just grumbles because he can’t yet express why this situation hurts him so much. It’s a little beyond Huaisang’s know-how to help in that sense, but he has other means of comfort in his range. 

“You’re moping, Wei-xiong,” he says. “Let me help you so we can all get back to educating ourselves as upstanding young masters.”

“What are you thinking?”

Huaisang tucks his fan back into this sleeve and kneels before Wei Wuxian, thankful for his robes because the stony hilltop is bad for his knees. “You can pretend I’m him,” he says, making his voice conspiratorial. “I’m told I can do a pretty good impression of Lan er-gege - want to see?” He closes his eyes, clears his throat, and channels Lan Wangji’s clipped tenor. “Wei Ying! What are you doing? No drinking in Cloud Recesses. No running in Cloud Recesses. No making noise in— ”

Huaisang yelps when Wei Wuxian grabs him by the waist and gathers him into his lap. He nearly whines at this continued treatment, but then Wei Wuxian nuzzles into his neck and he sinks back into character. 

“Wei Ying, you dare to do this,” he demands breathlessly. Wei Wuxian’s arms tighten and Huaisang feels a familiar stirring in the pit of his stomach. He really can’t help being this sensitive to touch, can he? Especially not when Wei Wuxian shows his strength without chattering so much and Huaisang can maybe easily imagine he’s the sharp tongued brother with the sensitive soul. 

“You shouldn’t do this, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says into his skin. “You shouldn’t get hurt because of me.”

Huaisang sighs, unsure where to go with this. Playacting is one thing, but whatever Wei Wuxian wants to hear, he should hear it from the real thing. He wiggles back into his friend’s lap instead, and lets Wei Wuxian bite his neck. This Huaisang can give, this he is good at. 

He reaches back to palm the hardness pressing up against him. Wei Wuxian groans, mouth still lapping just under Huaisang’s ear. His hand drops and he deftly parts his robes to reveal straining trousers already damp with arousal. Huaisang undoes the strings there, pulls his cock out, and wets his fingers on the dribbling tip before cupping the whole length. 

Wei Wuxian touches his forehead to Huaisang’s collarbones and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like er-gege. Huaisang takes the chance to give him a few strokes, licking his own lips because he’s starting to be aroused too. His attempt to get relief by parting his own legs don’t go unnoticed. Wei Wuxian hikes up all of Huaisang’s layers to get at his trousers and pulls them down just enough for access. 

Huaisang wants to whine, wants to open up and invite his friend in, but he’s Lan Wangji for now and he has to be willing without being wanton. He resumes stroking Wei Wuxian’s cock in long, firm moves, marveling at how much pre-come is spilling over to smooth the experience - though he’s sure it’s not because of him, not really. He’s also aware of his own cock exposed to the cool air of the back hills. What if someone comes? This wasn’t exactly a permitted spot, but that just increased the odds that anyone who might show up here would be a Lan. Huaisang giggles, imagining Lan Wangji journeying up here to find his Wei Ying getting off with this poor substitute for a Jade. Would he be jealous?

“Wei Ying,” he intones, squeezing the length in his hand. “Touch me.”

And Wei Wuxian sets him down on the sun soaked mountain, gently like he hadn’t actually done for Nie Huaisang himself. 

He spits on his palm and lines himself up. Wei Wuxian’s cock slides hot and slick between his thighs. Bound by the unyielding material of his trousers, Huaisang can’t open up further, but it’s alright; Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to be interested in going further. He just lazily fucks the soft flesh enclosing his cock, the head of it brushing against the space just behind Huaisang’s balls. 

Huaisang sighs, enjoying the warmth of the earth and the open air just as much as dirty friction below his waist. He stops listening to Wei Wuxian - all those murmurs aren’t for him anyway - and resigns himself to being used. When he catches the scent of lotus oil mixed with the hot smell of mineral rock beneath him, however, he can’t help but shiver. 

Huaisang closes his eyes and imagines Jiang Cheng actually licking him out last night, his sharp tongue pressed against Huaisang’s hole, taking back his own spend. His cock twitches interestedly at the scene, so he goes further, imagining Jiang Cheng returning from his training, sweating and keyed up, ready to release some energy when he spots Huaisang - soft and easy and unresisting to his advances. 

Wei Wuxian speeds up and reaches over to take Huaisang’s cock as well. That earns him a high moan in Huaisang’s own voice and they both take flight together, though they journey in different directions. Wei Wuxian imagines his Lan Zhan, while Huaisang is back in Jiang Cheng’s arms, being appreciated for his vocality, having his sensitive places worshipped. 

Wei Wuxian spills messily between Huaisang’s pale thighs. Huaisang doesn’t come that hard, but the usual surge of pleasure still settles in his bones and he slumps down onto the hilltop. His back is heavy with Wei Wuxian, but it doesn’t last long. The man has so much energy that he can’t even appreciate a good afterglow. 

“Nie-xiong,” Wei Wuxian already sitting up and trying to maneuver Huaisang’s prone form. “Let’s swim, we’re filthy and shijie will be upset if I come back like this. Nie-xiong…!”

Huaisang sighs. At least he’s back to his old self. 

Despite his general attitude, Nie Huaisang isn’t really afraid of Lan Wangji. Thanks to both their elder brothers being close, he’s visited Cloud Recesses many times, and it’s hard to be afraid of someone when you’ve seen them fall flat on their face and run to Lan Xichen for mother-henning.

No, if anything, Huaisang is just wary of Lan Wangji’s newly given authority over punishments in Cloud Recesses. Not that Wangji would abuse the position, but Huaisang’s new friends are not only trouble magnets, one of them is also the object of near permanent scrutiny. 

Which is why he gets nervous when he gets back to his dorm room, damp yet refreshed after the swim, and finds the Second Jade waiting for him. 

“Second young master Lan,” he titters, aware of his hair dripping onto the floor mats as he bows. “It’s um, good to see you?”

“You swam in the springs?” Lan Wangji asks.

“Ah, yes,” Huaisang replies. “Just a short, unforbidden swim. To deal with the heat.”

Lan Wangji examines the air. “It’s a cold day.”

“I have a northern constitution?” Huaisang tries, with a small grin. But Wangji isn’t looking at him anymore, he’s looking a little past his shoulder. 

Quick as lightning, Lan Wangji steps forward and grabs the ribbon tying Huaisang’s hair back. A red ribbon. “This is not yours.”

Huaisang flutters his eyelids. “I…”

“Lying is forbidden.”

“No, it’s not mine,” Huaisang admits, folding like a parasol. “It is Wei-xiong’s, but it was just a swim!”

Wangji holds on to the ribbon without saying anything, and he doesn’t have to because once a parasol…

“Ok, we did some things before swimming, but it wasn’t much.”

Wangji tugs at the ribbon, thus at the hair it is bound to. “Tell me.”

Ah. Well, it is good to ascertain that the yearning went both ways. Huaisang has half a mind to tell Lan Wangji that, but also who is he to say no to the exceptionally beautiful Second Jade of Lan? 

He looks into Wangji’s eyes instead and bites his bottom lip. Then, he slides his hand between his thighs. “He put it here,” he tells Wangji. “Just here.”

Wangji’s throat moves. “Show me.”

And this is how he dies, Huaisang thinks - bent over Lan ancestral furniture with his ass up, hands bound with Wei Wuxian’s ribbon, examined to death by Lan Wangji. He hopes da-ge will remember him well. 

“And what else?” Wangji says into his ear. 

“Nothing else,” Huaisang whines, letting a plea creep into his voice for all the sympathy it will bring him. “He just put his cock there and thrust until he came. Lan-xiong, he didn’t even bind me like this!”

“I bind you like this,” Wangji replies, like it makes any fucking sense. Then, he touches his cool fingers to Huaisang’s inner thighs, following the path described up to his groin until he can rub the place between his balls and entrance. “Here?”

“Yes,” Huaisang groans. There’s no reply for several moments, and all of a sudden Huaisang jerks and yelps at the touch of a tongue under his entrance. Gods, even Wangji’s tongue is cool as he laps the place where he thinks Wei Wuxian came. After a good long while of this, Huaisang feels weak in the arms and legs, and his length awakens against his belly. 

He whines needily at the slide of Wangji’s tongue on the underside of his balls right up to his twitching pink spot. 

“Lan-xiong…” he says before he loses further coherency. “You can pretend I’m him. You can call me Wei Ying.”

The tongue disappears and Wangji hisses, “Shameless!” 

But he pushes Huaisang face down onto the bed and climbs after him in an angry rustle of robes. Once he has Huaisang prostrate before him, Wangji doesn’t waste time reaching for the oil under the pillow (how he knew it was there is a mystery for another time) and Huaisang suddenly cries at slim, strong fingers breaching him. Sensual and easy as he is, Huaisang is used to a lot of variations of this, but Wangji’s vigor is another thing entirely. He shakes and shivers under the onslaught of those fingers even as his legs open wide in a wordless plea for more. 

“Will you not beg for mercy?” Lan Wangji prompts. 

Huaisang nods and pitches his prettiest voice. “Please er-gege, be gentle! Show some mercy!”

All Wangji does, however, is withdraw his fingers and push his cock into the passage he’d so roughly prepared. He sets a brutal pace too, thrusting hard with his magnificent blade until Huaisang is gasping for breath. He’s going to be sore for an entire day, he’s sure of it. He’s going to have a limp and he’ll have to explain why…

But it’s so good. Wangji doesn’t seem to care how vocal he is as long as he begs, so Huaisang does. 

“Er-gege, I’m sorry I lied,” he wails. “But please have mercy, please touch me!”

Wangji does no such thing. He just responds with longer, deeper thrusts that nevertheless touch that place inside Huaisang that makes him see stars. Stars amidst the occasional lighting streak of pain. All of Huaisang’s tricks seem to become useless - he can’t clench when he’s already stretched to his limits, Wangji seems impervious to his whinging and crying, and his well-used body has apparently never been used quite like this. 

Huaisang prays for Wei Wuxian on the day these two actually figure their feelings out.

As for himself, he pushes his face into the mattress and settles in for a long ride on Lan Wangji’s monstrous cock. Perhaps it is karma for all the times he avoided punishment by spreading out under Lan Xichen. 

To his credit, Lan Wangji leaves him an utter mess, but satisfied. Huaisang may have come, he doesn't remember; there's a wet spot on the sheets that he takes as proof. Wangji definitely came, so copiously that his semen fairly streamed out of Huaisang and down the backs of his thighs. After that, it was clear that the Second Jade was done. He took the length of Wei Ying’s ribbon and folded it into his sleeve, drew a warm bath behind Huaisang’s privacy screen and left it at that. As far as punishments go, Huaisang prefers this to copying rules any day. 

The downside is, he can barely move. It’s the total bliss permeating his bones; it’s joints and muscles stretched beyond his personal comprehension; it’s the mattress hugging him warmly as his body finishes singing. He cannot move, not if a thousand fierce corpses poured out from under the bed. 

So of course, someone knocks at his door - a hesitant knock though, not an authoritative one like Xichen or Meng Yao. 

“Nie Huaisang?”

Huaisang lifts his head when he hears Jiang Cheng’s voice. He tries to find his own voice, but all that comes out is an incoherent babble. It must be enough because the door opens and there is his sharp and handsome Jiang man. 

Jiang Cheng’s nose wrinkles when he steps inside and sniffs the air. Then he takes in the sight of Huaisang on his stomach in the bed and his face grows dark. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, striding up. “What happened? Nie Huaisang!” 

“I’m fine…” he mumbles, touched by the concern.

Jiang Cheng has none of it. “You have bruises!”  

Does he? “I’m alright,” he says more reassuringly now, “Really, it’s just an...unexpected afternoon treat.”

“Oh,” replies Jiang Cheng, and there is a multitude in that one syllable. 

Huaisang attempts to rise, but groans when his back protests. Jiang Cheng comes to him instantly, but hesitates before crossing the actual perimeter of the bed. Huaisang is not sure he blames him; in addition to the damp sheets and the bruises, there’s a rather obvious and filthy stickiness below his waist. It’s...probably a lot.   

Huaisang collapses back into bed, ready to let his golden core do the heavy lifting for now. “Sorry, Jiang-xiong, but it does look like I’m going to be useless for the foreseeable future.”

“You’re not useless,” Jiang Cheng snaps at him in his poor, vulnerable state. 

The bed dips as he sits down by the pillow. Jiang Cheng smooths away the damp hair sticking to the side of Huaisang’s face, earning a soft purr in return. “Are you going to get cleaned up or make it a habit of lying about like this?”

Huaisang tries to bite the fingertips that wander too close to his mouth. “My lying about is an art,” he says imperiously. “But yes, there is a bath over there.”

It doesn’t take much convincing for Jiang Cheng to carry him to the simmering tub - after all, his family seems to have a thing for manhandling a certain second young master Nie. 

Huaisang moans in bliss when he’s deposited into the tub and warm water closes over his aching limbs. After he spends a few moments sloughing off the worst of the stickiness, he casts a glance over his shoulder. “Would Jiang-xiong be kind and wash my back?”

The act of rolling one’s eyes should not be this sensual, but that’s how Huaisang knows he’s got it bad for Jiang Cheng. The Yunmeng heir is surprisingly gentle as he runs the rough cloth over Huaisang’s back, touchingly mindful of marks and bruises that are already healing. If Huaisang wasn’t so exhausted from his day of being relief for Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, he might be pleading for Jiang Cheng to fuck him already. 

Slowly but steadily, his energy returns. It isn't until Huaisang is happily kicking his legs in the tub that he thinks to ask. "Wait, Jiang-xiong, What did you come here for?"

Jiang Cheng's blush really says everything, even though he says, "Nothing, d-don't trouble yourself."

Huaisang flicks water at him. “I’d rather you trouble me,” he says. Then he grins. “Did A-Cheng come to ask me something, hm?”

Jiang Cheng turns scarlet. “Shut up!”

“Why? I’m glad you came, I wouldn’t say you could otherwise,” Huaisang insists. He reaches a wet hand out for Jiang Cheng. “Ask me.”

Jiang Cheng does the thing with his jaw which gives him an angry pout. “After all this? Huaisang, you could barely move.”

“I’m fine now,” Huaisang settles his chin over the rim of the tub and smiles. “Wangji really has nothing on a hot bath.”

Jiang Cheng starts. “Lan Wangji?”

“Do we know any others?” Huaisang asks thoughtlessly. 

Then, he catches an unguarded emotion in Jiang Cheng’s eyes, like candles being doused until the room loses its lustre. His face is still prideful, but Jiang Cheng’s whole demeanor cringes. It’s not revulsion - not when he carried Huaisang, sweat and seminal fluids and all, into the bath - no, it’s that cold and empty sense of not measuring up. Huaisang wouldn't have seen it if he weren't so intimately familiar with it himself, no matter how carelessly he whined and laughed the gossip away.

“I admit, he’s not the one I always hope will ask.” Huaisang says quietly, He looks up at Jiang Cheng through his eyelashes, using his rounder features to his advantage. 

Jiang Cheng just drops his gaze, exhaling wearily. 

“A-Cheng!” Huaisang whines. “You must be the slowest, sweetest poison in this world! Why do you want to kill me?”

That enlivens him again. “What drama!” Jiang Cheng huffs, but at least he meets Huaisang halfway and Huaisang uses the proximity to wrap his arms around Jiang Cheng’s neck and get hauled out of the tub like an overfed carp. 

Once out, he latches on to those white robes and presses his lips against Jiang Cheng’s, willing that severe mouth to soften and open up for him. “I want so badly to take you in my mouth, A-Cheng,” he murmurs. “I want to swallow you whole and let you fuck my throat until you come.”

“Huaisang!”

“Is that what you want too?” Huaisang asks between pressing kisses to his mouth and chin and cheeks. “You have to tell me.”

Jiang Cheng lets out a clipped moan. “Yes. Yes, I want it.”

The soiled linens on Huaisang’s bed are tossed away and Jiang Cheng’s discarded robe spread out instead. True to his word, Huaisang takes Jiang Cheng’s pulsing cock into his mouth - bit by bit at first, and then in whole. Like his hands and his hips, even Jiang Cheng’s cock feels like it’s made for him. The shaft lies heavy on his tongue and the blunt tip kneads his throat as it goes down over and over again. 

Jiang Cheng controls himself for a long time, breathing slowly and keeping his hips still while he cards through Huaisang’s hair. But in the end, Huaisang only has to look up while sucking his cock and he breaks. Once again, Jiang Cheng is like an oiled mechanism; his thrusts forward are smooth and steady, so Huaisang can quickly find a rhythm and focus on other things like applying the right pressure, or using the slightest hint of teeth to enhance his pleasure. 

There are intervals where Jiang Cheng tries to push him off, tries to ease up on Huaisang’s throat. It works exactly once and only so Huaisang can look up at him with red, spit-slick lips and say, “I meant it, A-Cheng. Until you come.”

A long and broken moan accompanies his dive back between Jiang Cheng’s legs, and this time, he’s free to worship that cock without interruption. Huaisang makes soft, desperate noises and then more enthusiastic ones as his darling recipient gets closer and closer to his climax.  It’s too much for Jiang Cheng. He comes with his fingers in Huaisang’s damp braids. 

Huaisang swallows his spend easily, even lapping at his slit for any remnants before pulling his mouth off. He sits back on his haunches, satisfied for the third time that day and feeling quite quite spoiled about it. Jiang Cheng is less vocal about his opinion on the proceedings, but his fiery blush and the way his wet eyes stare blankly at the ceiling as he tries to piece his mind back together really do speak volumes. Huaisang leans over his long, perfect body and kisses him, letting him taste himself. 

Jiang Cheng immediately pulls him into an embrace and Huaisang collapses into those arms, exclaiming theatrically, “Finally, a decent gentleman with good after-sex etiquette.”

A few days later, Huaisang wakes up to the glorious realization that Teacher Lan was off in Qinghe for a discussion conference and classes would be suspended until he was back. However, all his hopes of spending the break in throes of perpetual debauchery are dashed when every single one of his favorite debauchers decide to go off and hunt water ghosts in Caiyi Town. 

To be fair, Jiang Cheng had run up to him in the dining pavilion and enthusiastically asked if he wanted to come, but Huaisang had taken one look at the hunting party overseen quite seriously by Zewu-jun and Lan disciples, and opted for a hard pass. 

“Bring me back something,” he’d said, pressing a quick, furtive kiss on Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “Something fun, something we can share.”

After they left, Huaisang spent time catching up on his reading and took advantage of the empty courtyards to practice his magic. He enjoys this, the mental work of figuring out the secrets of the universe more than pushing his body to meet the demands of a saber. He’s just working on incorporating Wei Wuxian’s suggestions into his invisibility talisman when he hears the voice. 

“Second young master Nie?”

From the steps of a pavilion on the far side of the courtyard separating the female disciples’ dorms from the males’, Jiang Yanli waves at him. He goes over and they both agree to forgo formal greetings because she’s busy braiding flowers into garlands and he’s apparently not as good at invisibility as he thinks. 

“Invisibility, young master?” she asks. “Near the womens’ dorms while my brothers are away?”

Huaisang turns red and sputters. “It’s not like that, Lady Jiang,” he whines, palms together in supplication. “Please, please don’t give A-Cheng a reason to break my legs.”

She laughs at him, amused. “I’m only teasing, but...A-Cheng?”

“Ahh,” Huaisang flushes so hard that he has to pull out his fan. He’s at a loss for words because Jiang Yanli’s curious, expectant look is somehow worse than Lan Wangji’s coldest glare. “We’ve...become friends.”

“Yes, he’s told me,” Yanli says, deftly tying off a garland. “In fact, he speaks a lot about second young master Nie; I’m happy he thinks of you as a friend.”

“Oh,” Huaisang ducks his head. “Jiang-xiong and Wei-xiong speak of you too, Lady Jiang, and sometimes I think they are describing Guanyin herself.” 

“Such a sweet tongue,” Jiang Yanli replies. “No wonder you have so many friends.”

Huaisang preens. It really is nice to be appreciated. 

“Tell me, are you friends with Jin Zixuan as well?”

Her intended? Huaisang hesitates, suddenly unsure if he’d misread the conversation. Jiang Yanli’s face betrays nothing but a very sweet smile, and her hands brush stray flower petals from her lap.   

“We are acquainted,” he says carefully. 

Her smile widens. Huaisang thinks warily of Wei Wuxian and all the grievances he has with that man. 

“Will Nie-xiong let me take advantage of our acquaintance to pass a message along to young master Jin?”

Jiang Yanli stands up and moves closer to him, until Huaisang can smell lotus oil and...an intent of sorts. Quite soon, he gets to add her to the list of Jiangs who have manhandled him with their well practiced strength. 

In Yunmeng, we learn quite early that even the most beautiful lotus must first push through the muck of the riverbed. Young master Jin is a work in progress like all of us, but sometimes, a little help won't be remiss.

Here’s another thing Huaisang has in common with Jin Zixuan: they’d both underestimated the Jiang sister. She’d directed him to Library Pavilion, which is quiet when he makes it there because no sane student would choose to spend their days off near educational materials. Naturally, he finds Jin Zixuan and his companion inside, seated at a table with his back straight, reading. 

“Miss Mianmian,” Huaisang calls brightly. “I just ran into Lady Jiang, she asked if you’re available to keep her company.”

Mianmian smiles immediately and jumps up. “Of course!” she says, then checks herself. “Young master—”

“Go on,” Jin Zixuan sighs, and Huaisang gallantly holds the doors open as she scampers off. 

Once her footsteps fade, so does Huaisang’s cheerful expression. He lets the door slam shut and strides towards a perturbed Jin Zixuan; long, baleful strides like da-ge when his saber found a target.

“Jin Zixuan, you ignorant trollop,” he growls. “I bring a message from Lady Jiang.”

“Excuse me?” Jin Zixuan eyes him with a mix of disdain and nervousness. 

Huaisang takes a sharp breath and pounces over the low table. He could never in a thousand years best Jin Zixuan in open combat, but with the element of sheer surprise on his side, he manages to get the Jin man where he wants him. They both tumble back on to the floor, amidst a small pile of books, and Huaisang draws upon every grappling session he was ever forced to participate in to lock his legs around Jin Zixuan’s body. When he fumbles for his fan, his opponent pins his other hand above his head. 

“What is wrong with you, Nie Huaisang?” Jin Zixuan pants, his vermillion mark smeared through his frown. 

“This is for you,” Huaisang replies, just before he brings the guard of his fan down on Jin Zixuan’s ass. 

“What the fuck?!” Jin Zixuan shrieks. His whole body goes slack with astonishment and Huaisang takes advantage of it to deliver two more resounding smacks.

“Stay, I have seven more to deliver!”

“You— !” Jin Zixuan growls and he struggles against Huaisang’s locked legs. The undulating movements have their consequences of course, Huaisang can see the blush on Jin Zixuan’s face as much as he can feel the heat on his own, but he doesn’t relent. 

“Four, five, six…!” he counts. Jin Zixuan squawks inelegantly and tries to grab the fan. He succeeds, but just because he’s learnt in combat, doesn’t mean he has street smarts. 

Huaisang seamlessly produces another fan from his sash and delivers the last four smacks across the high mounds of Jin Zixuan’s well appointed rear. This fan being smaller, he has to work harder to ensure the message is heard. Once done, he collapses back in a pile of now humid limbs. 

Above him, seated between his loosened legs, Huaisang’s wrist in one hand and fan in another, Jin Zixuan is stunned. Gone is his usual arrogant mien; he just looks like a fish out of water. 

“What the fuck?” he asks again, this time in a whisper. 

“My work is done,” Huaisang whispers back, winded from the effort. “I received ten and you received in equal measure.”

Jin Zixuan whimpers. “She…? You?”

Huaisang nods. 

“Nie Huaisang,” Jin Zixuan doesn’t seem to dare to move from his position. “Are you...?

“Hard?”

Jin Zixuan nods, clearly unable to say the words. Huaisang lets his legs fall open and rolls his hips against the bulge in Jin Zixuan’s golden robes. His own cock twitches, having been flushed and searching for relief since Jiang Yanli pulled him down into her lap. 

He parts his robes and fumbles with his loosened trousers. “Will you put it in me?”

That gets him a disbelieving look. “Wha...I don’t know how to do that!” 

It’s Huaisang’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “With a man or in general?”

Jin Zixuan squeezes his wrist and brings the confiscated fan hard on the side of Huaisang’s thigh. “Shameless,” he growls to the sound of Huaisang whining thinly. 

“If you’re going to do something, do something, Jin Zixuan!” he says irritably. “Or will you leave me dissatisfied like you do Lady Jiang?”

“You—!” Jin Zixuan tosses the fan away and rucks up his own robes instead. His pale gold colored trousers show an obvious wet spot, through which the outline of his cock is visible. 

Huaisang doesn’t know what he expects when Jin Zixuan pulls himself out - a length of gold spouting pearls perhaps - but what he sees is a very pretty cock with a flushed dark pink head. It’s placed unceremoniously beside his and Jin Zixuan wraps his hand around both of them. 

Like Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan moves with a trained warrior’s power and stamina. Unlike Jiang Cheng, he’s vocal and soft around his mouth. He lets out the most delicious moans, his dark, long-lashed eyes flutter closed as he settles into a rhythm. Huaisang lays back against the cool library floor and lets him do all the work - young master Jin could use the experience. 

Huaisang has an experience, too - the imperfection of Jin Zixuan’s messed up hair and smeared vermillion mark, his sword calluses dragging delightfully along their cocks, his impossibly plush lips as he leans down to plunder Huaisang’s mouth. Their kiss is as wet as the place they’re joined; precome pools around Jin Zixuan’s fist and results in perhaps the most obscene noises to happen in this library. 

Huaisang wonders if Lan Wangji and Wei Ying will ever fuck in this place, given their current trajectory. He wonders if Jiang Cheng will fuck him here, and the thought makes him whine longingly into Jin Zixuan’s mouth. 

The hand around their cocks tightens, and they both come, grinding desperately against each other. 

Jin Zixuan milks them both through it. His hand strokes lazily until their breaths calm and he rolls off to the side. They both stare at the dark beams of Library Pavilion for a while. A breeze rustles the paper windows and an incense pot that is miraculously still standing spews sandalwood smoke into the muted sunlight. 

“Nie Huaisang,” Jin Zixuan says raspily. “Did Lady Jiang really call me an ignorant trollop?”

Huaisang rolls his eyes. How is this man betrothed to her and still think she needed that sort of language to make her point? Riverbed or not, Jin Zixuan was shaping up to be a rather poor lotus. 

“She did not,” Huaisang replies. “That was all me.”

The night hunting party returns from Caiyi Town late in the evening. Huaisang’s ecstatic rush to see what Jiang Cheng has brought back for him is halted - literally - when he meets Zewu-jun on the path and is reminded that running was forbidden in Cloud Recesses. He’ll have to be punished, of course, but Lan Xichen smiles when he says this, which means he’s open to negotiations. If that were an art that was graded, Huaisang would get top marks every time, but alas. 

In his personal pavilion, Lan Xichen pours them both tea. He asks how Huaisang is doing and if he has been keeping up with his studies. He then asks about some strange happenings in Qinghe - a thing Huaisang is only marginally aware of from the rare correspondence da-ge initiates himself. But it becomes apparent that he should acquaint himself further. Even here in Gusu, the dire owl sightings, water ghosts, and a new breed of fierce corpses don’t paint a very optimistic picture. That Qishan-Wen sect really is too much. 

Lan Xichen grins behind his teacup. “Ah, you really are Nie Mingjue’s brother.”

“That’s why I am Xichen-ge's favorite,” Huaisang grins back shamelessly. 

“Huaisang, you know I like you for you,” Lan Xichen chides gently. “Just as I like Mingjue for him only.”

Huaisang does know, but he likes to be told. And Lan Xichen is kind enough to tell everybody the best things about themselves. “I’ll be sure to tell da-ge you miss him very much in my next letter.” 

Now that the matter is settled, he wonders if he can take his leave. It’s getting late, but perhaps he can still spend a few moments with the Yunmeng brothers.  

“There’s one more matter,” Lan Xichen says. “I’ve heard some things regarding unauthorized use of the library while we were away.”

Huaisang flushes dark red. “Xichen-ge...that was - I was doing a favor.”

“Huaisang, a decent gentleman should accept his role in the actions he takes,” Lan Xichen readies brush, ink, paper and a copy of the Lan sect rules. 

Huaisang abandons his teacup and turns on his seating cushion to supplicate. “Will you report me to da-ge?”

“I will not,” Lan Xichen replies. “Simply put, it would be very hypocritical of us both to criticize you.”

Huaisang gasps. “Xichen-ge!” he laughs and scrambles to climb onto Xichen’s lap. “Please tell me more. I must have something to hold over da-ge’s head when he next scolds me!”

Lan Xichen wraps his arms about Huaisang’s waist and kisses him indulgently. He smells like jasmines and freshwater. “First, what do you have for me?” 

“Wangji is in love with Wei Ying,” Huaisang runs his fingers through Lan Xichen’s long hair. “And his feelings are returned.”

“I knew the former, but am glad to confirm the latter,” Lan Xichen kisses his eyes now. “What else?”

“Wen Qionglin, I think something may have happened to him before he came here. Lady Wen treats him regularly with medicines.”

Lan Xichen slips a hand the collar of his robe. “Good, and?”

Huaisang squirms impatiently. Lan Xichen really is too good with his hands. “Mmn, Jin Zixuan is truly oblivious about more than Lady Jiang, and I worry for him at this point. And Jiang Wanyin... makes me worry for myself.”

Lan Xichen’s hands drop until they’re kneading his ass. “You like young master Jiang?”

Huaisang whines despairingly. “Xichen-ge, I want to give him things, like my body but also self-esteem! Is it strange that I want to tell him that he is good and perfect and beautiful until he comes on my face?”

That tears a surprised laugh from Lan Xichen. “Very good. I’m happy for you.”

Despite his conversational tone, his hands have been busy untying Huaisang’s sash and parting his disciple’s robe. Huaisang arches into Lan Xichen’s mouth. “Xichen-gege, please tell me about that library now.”

Lan Xichen pulls his mouth off Huaisang’s breastbone with a smack and turns him around until his ass is grinding in Xichen’s lap. Huaisang’s arms brace on the table in front, pushing aside the teapot and cups. 

“Mingjue-xiong was a good cultivator, but he would have trouble studying his books - too much restless energy, you see? Well, I would offer to help him concentrate and the tables in the library were exactly this tall…”

Xichen-ge is a good storyteller, Huaisang thinks, and he was probably far more graceful sprawled out on a table for da-ge. Unlike Huaisang, who has already knocked over the teapot and is now drooling a little as he copies another sheet of sect rules. To be fair, Lan Xichen’s cock is a magnificent thing. Really, Lan Wangji is a demon, but Lan Xichen is overwhelming like the singular majesty of a lonely orchid blooming precisely at midnight. Or so Huaisang thinks - his midnights have never been spent looking at orchids. 

His cock twitches and drips on the floor mats, begging for attention. Huaisang abandons his brush and wanders down to touch himself. 

Lan Xichen makes a disappointed noise at that and thrusts harder. Once he’s found a pace, he angles his body so he hits Huaisang’s sweet spot. Huaisang yelps softly and clenches back. He brings his hands back to the table, though he doesn’t resume writing. 

“You’ve grown too used to my indulgence,” Lan Xichen comments, almost carelessly. 

Not enough. Huaisang rallies his cracking control to say, “A decent gentleman should accept his actions.”

“How bold,” Lan Xichen kneads his ass and rubs at the place where they join. Then, all at once, he lifts himself on to his knees and nudges Huaisang’s thighs until they’re impossibly far apart, and fucks him far deeper than ever. Huaisang chokes on air as he presses his face onto his abandoned parchment. Sloppily spilled ink mixes with sweat. His chest slides on the cool wooden tabletop, arms too weak to find purchase, but it’s a small matter for Lan Xichen to support his weight while plowing him into the Lan sect rules. 

Lan Xichen even reaches around to wrap his long, slim fingers around Huaisang’s cock, squeezing the base of it before jerking him quickly. Huaisang is hard and throbbing, and he’s going to come on Zewu-jun’s pristine floormats. He moans and convulses in anticipation of just that - and Xichen stops, squeezing the base of his cock. He slows his hips and resumes thrusting at such a languid pace that Huaisang wants to cry.   

“Zewu-jun,” he whines, his body simmering with lust. “This disciple apologizes for talking back; please don’t tease me.”

“Oh, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen thumbs at his slit. “All disciples are punished for their offenses and rewarded for their merits. You have avoided the first, but it is a long road to the second.”

Huaisang wails before he can stop himself. Being loud is forbidden in Cloud Recesses, however, and his road just gets that much longer. 

No one can say he isn’t determined, Huaisang thinks hours later as he stumbles under the moonlight down a path he now knows by heart. His robes are tied haphazardly over a number of marks bitten into his skin, the corner of his face still bears ink smears. Hells, Lan Xichen’s thick and copious semen is still leaking down his thighs in lazy, sticky rivulets. Yet Nie Huaisang perseveres and barges into the Yunmeng brothers’ dorm room. 

Wei Wuxian barely looks up from a pile of messily drawn talismans. “Good luck,” he jabs a thumb back at the bed where Jiang Cheng is passed out face down. “That water demon really took it out of him.”

Huaisang grumbles at the mess he has to pick through as he stumbles toward his destination. Jiang Cheng doesn’t stir until Huaisang reaches his bedside and sits on the floor beside it as his legs finally give out.

“Hi,” Huaisang murmurs, leaning over the pillow to steal a sleepy kiss from a vaguely conscious, yet utterly adorable Jiang Cheng. What a treat to see him so unguarded and soft! 

When Jiang Cheng doesn't wake further, Huaisang spots a talisman stuck between his shoulders. "What's this?"

"Leave it," Wei Wuxian says. "We fought a Waterborne Abyss, then he spent the rest of the day running around Caiyi, and the rest of the evening looking around Cloud Recesses for you. If he doesn't sleep, he'll be grumpy all day."

"Ah."

“H’sang,” Jiang Cheng mumbles back sleepily and gestures in a direction. “I got you...”

Heart lifting, Huaisang retrieves a bag from the foot of the bed. It contains a stash of loquats, peanuts, and a delicately wrought sweet in the shape of a bird, which Huaisang decides he will eat in the morning. Upon further inspection, he also finds a small box embossed with hawthorn flowers. Inside it is a shade of red that is as vivid as the candied hawthorn berries Huaisang likes to eat while strolling the markets in Qinghe.    

“A-Cheng,” he sighs affectionately before dipping his finger into the pigment and applying it to his lips. Huaisang isn’t disappointed moments later when he presses his lips to Jiang Cheng’s cheek and leaves behind a bright red print on the sun bronzed skin.

Wei Wuxian snickers from among his talismans. “Are you playing pranks on my poor vulnerable shidi?”  

“Not a prank,” Huaisang counters smugly. “It’s my gift.”

“Is that what you young ones are calling it nowadays?” Wei Wuxian lifts his brows and crawls over. "Where's my share then, Nie-xiong?"

“Mm-mm,” Huaisang purses his lips. "What did you bring me?"

"Aiya, those gifts were from both of us!" Wei Wuxian pouts when Huaisang gives him a skeptical look. "Ok, alright, I'll tell you a story instead: on Biling lake, I was on a boat beside Lan Zhan and I noticed something very odd..."

"What was it?" Huaisang asks, leaning in with fascination.

Wei Wuxian bumps their foreheads together. “You see, he was standing alone in it, but somehow, his boat seemed to weigh more than ours. So I had a hunch and told him to change boats while I overturned his and we saw..."

"Hmm?" Huaisang fidgets when Wei Wuxian's lips brush his ear. "You saw..?" he prompts impatiently.

"A hundred water ghosts!" Wei Wuxian shouts into his ear, cackling hard when Huaisang shrieks.

"Wei-xiong, it's the middle of the night, don't tell me stories like that!" Huaisang whines. "I do have to walk back to my room, you know!"

Jiang Cheng stirs again just then. He blinks drowsily at Huaisang and reaches out to tug at his shoulder. “Don't go.”

"Yeah, Nie-xiong," Wei Wuxian laughs again. "Stay here where Jiang Cheng can protect you from big, fearsome ghosts."

"Hmph!" Huaisang pouts angrily, but he can't help how the thought makes him want to melt. Damn Jiang boy and his sweet eyes.

Leaving Wei Wuxian to his messy experiments, Huaisang follows Jiang Cheng's sleep heavy summons and climbs into the bed. They have to press up against each other to fit in the narrow space meant for one, but luckily, neither he nor Jiang Cheng mind tangling their limbs into the necessary configuration. 

Curled up in his favorite friend’s arms, Huaisang closes his eyes with a pleasant ache in his body and a smile on his lips. 

The next morning, it’s raining and they still don’t have classes. Wei Wuxian has fallen asleep on the floor beside his talismans, snoring in an obnoxious counterpoint to the hypnotic patter of rain on the roofs. 

Huaisang wakes up to wet kisses on the back of his neck and a warm hand slipping into his robes to tease his nipple. 

“Good morning,” he tells Jiang Cheng. 

“Good morning,” comes the reply. Then more quietly, “I thought I dreamed you last night. You were so beautiful.”

“Then you weren’t paying attention, A-Cheng, I’ve got ink on my face.” Huaisang teases.

“Why do you have ink on your face?”

“I was copying rules with Zewu-jun and things got out of hand.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng can probably guess how things might go out of hand with Lan Xichen, but he doesn’t sound wary like he did upon hearing Wangji’s name. Instead, he grabs the hem of Huaisang’s robes, which are already riding up, and gropes between Huaisang’s thighs. It’s tellingly sticky. They both know why; to Huaisang’s surprise, Jiang Cheng’s cock grows thick against him. 

"A-Cheng," he mewls, rocking back lazily.

His only reply is Jiang Cheng's slow breath and the way he pulls Huaisang in tighter. There's no more heat than what's already between them. Instead, a deep sense of contentment blossoms into their awareness as they’re enclosed by four walls, blue dawn light, the rush of rain, and the glorious mountains beyond. 

A sniffle draws his attention and Huaisang reaches back where Jiang Cheng has buried his face into his hair. 

"Are you crying?" he asks.

"No!" comes the gruff reply. 

Huaisang twists around. Jiang Cheng refuses to meet his eyes, but the lip print on his cheek meets a blush fanning out from his nose and Huaisang is so weak for it.

"I missed you," he tells Jiang Cheng helplessly.

Jiang Cheng snarls again, a baby tiger beloved by a mynah and exceedingly confused about it. 

Huaisang goes where his body takes him; he swings a leg over Jiang Cheng's hips and parts both their crumpled robes until they're skin to skin. He moans softly at the hot brand sensation of Jiang Cheng's cock pressing between his legs, the slick from the tip mixing with the slick already there from last night.

Jiang Cheng finally lifts his eyes, damp but sharp. He puts his hands on Huaisang's hips, making him shiver all over. 

“You’re wearing the lip paint,” Jiang Cheng says. He then tries and fails not to smile. “Looks nice.”

For his part, Huaisang has no problem grinning widely. “You too.” 

He taps his own cheek slyly and watches as Jiang Cheng rubs his own face and comes away with fingertips tinted identically to Huaisang’s lips.  

“I was asleep when you kissed me?” he asks curiously.

“In a chaste and appropriate way,” Huaisang says quickly. “Really, Wei-xiong was chaperoning and everything.”

Jiang Cheng looks toward the other side of the room as if he just remembered he has a brother. His face tightens disapprovingly when he spots Wei Wuxian’s untidy sprawl, and Huaisang sighs inwardly; he had been enjoying a soft and smiling Jiang Cheng. 

The hips under him suddenly punch up. 

Huaisang squeaks as he’s flung forward and Jiang Cheng uses the momentum to pull him down and kiss his mouth, deep and hard. Huaisang quickly gets over his surprise and settles down, wrapping his arms about Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and kissing him back with a hunger that surprises even him. After a while, they part for breath, only to dive back in again. 

For once, Huaisang finds himself uncontent to simply bask in another’s willing affection. All the words he wants to say - perfect and beautiful and I love you and don’t leave me ever - crowd behind his teeth like each one wants to be the first to reach Jiang Cheng’s ears, so all he can do is push them into his mouth with each kiss…

“Hey hey hey!”

A paper man zips between him, pasting itself to Huaisang’s forehead. Spiritual energy flares and Huaisang finds himself forced back as if a hand were tugging at the back of his head. 

“Leave room for Buddha, you two,” says Wei Wuxian, wagging his finger. 

While Huaisang whines and paws at his head, Jiang Cheng skips straight to murderous rage. “Wei Wuxian, how dare you!” he shouts and throws the incense burner on his bedside table at his brother with vicious precision. 

Wei Wuxian ducks easily for someone who’d been dead asleep only moments ago and stumbles toward them. “How dare I?” he says. “How dare he?”

Huaisang cringes under Wei Wuxian’s towering gaze. “Wei-xiong…”

“Nie-xiong, that’s my brother, the future sect leader of Yunmeng-Jiang,” Wei Wuxian tells him, with none of his usual levity. “You’re not even cleaned up from someone else and you come to him for this?”

Huaisang’s heart leaps into his throat, brimming words now dying in his throat. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jiang Cheng demands. “Do you really prefer everyone fawn all over you instead?”

“Yes, because I’m not serious about him!” Wei Wuxian replies, and all the air gets sucked out of the room. 

Huaisang can feel Jiang Cheng freeze and retreat even as he’s still straddling those hips. He’s no different, truth be told. He suddenly feels ashamed of his state of unwashedness now that Wei Wuxian has pointed it out. He slips off Jiang Cheng and retreats to a corner of the bed, pulling his robe around himself. 

“Jiang-xiong, is this true?” Huaisang asks in a small voice. 

But Jiang Cheng’s eyes are downcast and dark. Wei Wuxian’s eyes are too, and they glare at Nie Huaisang in such a menacing way that Huaisang’s legs slip off the bed and carry him out of the room as he whines, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The path which seemed so wide and open in the dead of last night when he was running toward Jiang Cheng, somehow turns treacherous in broad daylight as Huaisang runs away from him. It’s poetic in a way that escapes him right now as he trips over a tree root and lands hard on wet packed earth.

The impact tears a sob from him. His hands and robes are scraped by small rocks and more exposed roots. Raindrops cling to Huaisang’s eyelashes and mix with his tears to blur out the world. He vacillates fast between despair and anger. 

Wei Wuxian is a bully. How was Huaisang to know Jiang Cheng felt serious about him? 

But hadn’t he been in love with Jiang Cheng, too? Was it fair to simply treat him as a favorite friend even after seeing all the signs? 

It’s nothing Jiang Cheng didn’t know, didn’t see the evidence of. 

Still.  

Huaisang untangles himself from the roots that tripped him only to face Lan Qiren blocking the path. Their teacher seems to loom toward the skies, his form like a cloud except for his blazing golden eyes and thunderous voice, declaring, “Dishonesty is forbidden in Cloud Recesses.”

“I made a mistake!” Huaisang shrieks back, but nevertheless he’s on his knees on the flagstones in front of Lan Qiren’s pavilion, body seizing with terror as Wei Wuxian brings a thick purple whip down on his back...

Nie Huaisang wakes up with a gasp. 

Well, that was excessive.

Usually, dreams like that warranted a trip to the soothsayers, so they can cast their bones and figure out what the universe was trying to say. Huaisang is pretty sure he can interpret this one on his own. 

It takes a lot to goad Wei Wuxian into outright hostility, but messing with his family would probably do it, and Huaisang would do well not to test him on that. 

Huaisang is also sure that Jiang Cheng likes him. Maybe. He’s missing from the bed they’d both slept in without a clue as to his disappearance. But the bag of gifts from Caiyi is neatly repacked and the lip tint is wrapped carefully back in silk and placed on top. Huaisang whines despairingly and rolls over, only to be enveloped in sheets that still smell like Jiang Cheng. The vestiges of utter longing from his dream tug at him so hard that he has to curl up and let them pass. 

All at once, Huaisang thinks he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s wrong, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t like him. Or worse, just sees him as...pretty and fun. Huaisang is pretty and fun, but he also wants to be beloved in that sweeping sort of way like in storybooks.  

Oh gods and immortals, maybe he could use some advice.

To that end, Huaisang smooths himself into a semblance of presentability and hugs the bag to himself. At the door, he reminds himself once again that Lan Qiren is still in Qinghe and cannot hurt him, and dashes back to his own dorm.

Wen Qing is not an intimidating person more than others are intimidated by her non-effort toward an accommodating personality. As far as Huaisang can tell, she actually really prefers to go unnoticed in Cloud Recesses. So, of course she picks up on him throwing unsettling glances at her in the dining pavilion, while chewing aggressively on a steamed bun in an effort to look casual. 

“Second young master Nie,” she turns to him finally. “A good morning, is it not?”

“Most certainly, Lady Wen,” Huaisang agrees. “Though not as brilliant as yourself.”

She raises her eyebrow and Huaisang quickly adds, “I heard of your bravery at the night hunt in Caiyi.”

“Oh, from whom did you hear?” she tips her head, looking genuinely curious. 

Huaisang wonders if this is a bad idea. “J-Jiang Wanyin?”

“Second young master Nie sounds unsure about that.”

“Ahh,” Huaisang waves his fan rapidly. “Well, he likes you, doesn't he?”

“Does he?” 

Wen Qing’s voice goes flat. And before Huaisang can decide what that’s all about, she glances at his lips, and her eyebrow twitches. “That’s a lovely color on you, second young master Nie. It reminds me of a favorite treat from Qinghe.”

Huaisang flushes at the compliment, which only means he has to fan himself harder. “Lady Wen is very kind, but it is a gift that was given to me here in Cloud Recesses.”

“Hm,” Wen Qing nods. She lays her hand on her table, looking relaxed in a way that Huaisang hasn’t seen before. “I think it suits you better than a comb.”

“Eh?” Huaisang stops fanning himself and clutches at the fan itself like a lifeline instead. The last person who looked at him like that had been...had been Meng Yao, maybe. And while that had been a memorable evening that still gets Huaisang hot whenever he sees a particular shade of blue, he is courting now and as much as he wonders what else Wen Qing knows of the human body... 

“I’m very flattered, Lady Wen, but I cannot go to bed with you,” Huaisang tells her, bowed over his fan. “I like someone else.”

A pause, punctuated only by the quiet din of other students chatting over their breakfast. Then Wen Qing says, “I was not saying that, second young master Nie.”

“Oh.”

“I would never say that.”

Harsh. “Of course, my apologies.” Huaisang murmurs. 

“His first choice was a comb,” Wen Qing tells him, after a sip of tea. “But one can’t really show off a comb. If I liked somebody, I think I’d enjoy seeing evidence of my gift being treasured, especially when it looks so pleasing on them. But that’s just me.”

“Aah,” Huaisang nods along, following but not really following. Honestly, he’d interrupted Wen Qing’s breakfast to gain some insight into his dilemma of having to woo the Jiang sect heir for more than the occasional round of dual cultivation. After all, Jiang Cheng seems to be most impressed with her out of anyone in their cohort, and if they’d warmed up enough to shop together in town...fuck, is this his answer? Has he lost to Wen Qing?

Huaisang has a mini panic about it, thinking he’d rather face the wrath from his dreams than this sinking feeling, until he wonders why Jiang Cheng would get advice about a gift for Wen Qing from Wen Qing…

“Wait, no, it’s for me. Jiang Wanyin likes me!” he exclaims. 

“My felicitations,” Wen Qing deadpans. 

“Oh, but Lady Wen, now I have a whole new problem!” Huaisang whines. “He likes me and I like him, but I know that he likes me and he doesn’t know that I like him!”

“I feel this is an easy problem to solve.”

“Yes!” Huaisang taps his fan on his palm. “I will tell him, of course. Tonight, I will invite Jiang Wanyin to my rooms and I will light my brightest candles and the best incense. I will also wear my best robes, obviously - the sheer ones from Lanling - and I’ll invite him to partake in, um, tea…” Huaisang winks. “Then, as we get more comfortable, I will let the robe slip from my shoulder, layer by layer, until he is mesmerized. I do have that effect on Jiang Wanyin, you know.”

“I wish I didn’t,” Wen Qing mutters.

“Right, when he is at the height of desire, I’ll allow myself to be pulled into his embrace, like a blushing lotus snatched up by a handsome youth who couldn’t resist its voluptuousisity—”

“That's not a word,” Wen Qing sips more tea. 

“— he’ll kiss me, I know he will, and I will try my best to resist, to tell him right then, but let’s be honest, Jiang Wanyin also has an effect on me; I’ll very likely let him slip his beautiful hands inside my robes...oh, the sword calluses—”

Wen Qing clears her throat. Breakfast must be too spicy.

Huaisang sighs, eyes faraway. “I don’t know, I don’t know, perhaps I will let him lay me down and show me how much he’s missed me all these days…”

“All two of these days.”

“Yes,” Huaisang agrees, gripping his fan tightly. “What happens shall happen on a clear night after a long separation. But before the second round - definitely before the third - I will lean close to Jiang Wanyin and whisper to him that...I like him and no other.”

He smiles at Wen Qing. “What do you think?”

Wen Qing stares at him for a long while. “I worry for you,” she tells him. “But I should also point out that we are all launching lanterns in a few nights. An atmosphere will already be set and you can also show off your handiwork.”

“In front of so many people, Lady Wen, I might become shy!” Huaisang ducks behind his fan at the very thought!

Wen Qing glances around the full dining hall and takes a deep breath before settling back into her usual composure. “Not the sh-word I would use,” she says. “But somehow, I think you will be alright, second young master Nie; you have many supportive friends here.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Huaisang agrees. “I shall be perfectly prepared for it. Thank you for your advice, Lady Wen!”

“Second young master Nie is welcome,” Wen Qing gives him a cool smile.

Huaisang gathers his things and dashes out of the dining hall. Awash in ideas as he is, he doesn’t look back, and he misses the unflappable Lady Wen quietly bang her head on the table.  

As their teacher is due back tomorrow, the disciples take advantage of their last consecutive day of freedom by being utterly lazy. 

As such, the training grounds are nearly empty. This is a treat for someone like Jiang Cheng, who can spend hours practicing without being interrupted or waiting for his turn on the archery targets. This is also a treat for Nie Huaisang, albeit for very different reasons. 

His saber sits forgotten at the edge of the spectator’s area, but that is not his weapon of choice anyway. 

Jiang Cheng is currently practicing on the archery targets alongside Wen Ning. It’s unclear whether they’re competing; they both look very focused. Huaisang reapplies his new lip tint, places the skewer of bird-shaped candy between his lips, and waits patiently to be noticed. 

Wen Ning sees him first and waves happily. 

“Nie-xiong, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says.

“Keep your expectations low, Wen-xiong,” Huaisang replies airily, noting how widely Jiang Cheng misses the target at the sound of his name.

They’re both heading toward him now, only Wen Ning keeps the same smile with each step while Jiang Cheng has several moments in succession. At first he’s still sharp and focused from earlier activities, but his features grow softer as he approaches. When he’s a certain distance away, Huaisang makes sure to pull the candy slowly from his mouth. Then when they’re close, Huaisang smiles, tips his head endearingly and says, “Oh, Jiang-xiong, you’re here too.”

Jiang Cheng mumbles something back, cheeks red, yet eyes affixed to Huaisang’s lips. 

“Are you here to practice?” Wen Ning asks, when nobody else says a word. 

“I’m only here to enjoy the view,” says Huaisang. “Teacher Lan comes back tomorrow and it’ll be our backs bent over those tables again.” He sighs mournfully and nibbles on his candy.

Suddenly, Huaisang perks up, like an idea had struck him just then and not a moment before. “Wen-xiong, do you know how to swim?”

Wen Ning blinks and shakes his head. “No, sorry.”

Huaisang sighs again, crestfallen. “Ah, I was hoping to fish in the streams, but I fear us poor mountain folk are practically asking to drown by accident.” 

“I can swim,” Jiang Cheng says. 

Huaisang blinks. “I’d be worried if you couldn’t, aren’t you from Lo—”

“Actually, I think he means he can take us fishing, Nie-xiong,” Wen Ning provides helpfully. 

Huaisang pulls the candy from his mouth and grins widely. “Oh, Jiang-xiong, how kind!”

Huaisang ends up having more fun than anticipated because fishing is quite fun. Or rather, it’s fun to watch Jiang Cheng attempt to teach him and Wen Ning that fish only count as caught if they don’t slip through their fingers. 

At some point, Huaisang ends up on Wen Ning’s shoulders. Out of the both of them, Wen Ning is much more stable on his feet in rushing waters, and he’s tall so the view is even more spectacular. Jiang Cheng flexing and sweating in practice attire is really nothing compared to Jiang Cheng emerging from clear waters in his under robes. When he merely flops down and kicks his feet in the stream, Huaisang assumes they’ve given up on fishing. 

“Aah, Nie-xiong?” Wen Ning taps his thigh. 

Huaisang sighs absently, “Hmm?” 

“I have to go, jiejie is expecting me.” 

“Oh,” Huaisang looks about and the solution to his problem is just a short way away, meditatively treading water. “Jiang Cheng,” he sings. “Catch!”

Bad as he is at any real cultivation, Huaisang can apply just enough spiritual energy to map a trajectory from Wen Ning’s shoulders to Jiang Cheng’s arms, and he has to admit: Wei Wuxian has some excellent ideas.

“Huaisang!” Jiang Cheng barely keeps him from landing in a downstream current. “What is wrong with you!”

“Wen-xiong has to go,” Huaisang shrugs innocently. 

Indeed, Wen Ning throws his robes back on, picks up his weapons, and bows shortly. “Thank you, Nie-xiong, Jiang-xiong, I had lots of fun!” He gives them one last smile before bounding off toward the estate like a drunken deer.

Jiang Cheng watches him go with a frown. “Humans shouldn’t run like that.” 

“Oh, I thought that’s how all you athletes ran,” Huaisang jokes and gets a halfhearted slap on the shoulder for it as they both collapse on the grassy bank of the stream. 

It feels familiar, this: lying side by side, backs pressed into earth and grass, eyes staring blankly up at the sky as their excitable limbs calmed down. Being sober now and in the light of day, Huaisang takes his fill of Jiang Cheng’s profile, all sharp features and big nose and silky hair that tended towards waves when wet. He looks like a bedraggled guard dog, but also something more…

The future sect leader of Yunmeng-Jiang. 

Aah, this boy! Huaisang sighs loudly and squints up at the startling sky.

Jiang Cheng turns his head. “What?”

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” Huaisang turns to face him as well. “You left before I could properly thank you for my gift.”

Jiang Cheng looks away and shrugs. “It was nothing, I just saw it at the market and thought you might like it.”

“Do I look nice?” Huaisang asks coyly. 

Jiang Cheng’s eyes skitter down to his lips and away again. “Mn.”

Huaisang clicks his tongue and flicks at Jiang Cheng’s temple. “Don’t grunt at me - who are you, Lan Wangji?”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, but at least he looks Huaisang in his. “Fine, you look really nice with the lip paint, Nie-xiong. The color suits you.”

“Thank you,” Huaisang replies graciously. Then he heaves himself to the side to sprawl on Jiang Cheng’s chest and smirk deviously. “So, what do you want for a reward?”

“All gifts shall be given freely and without expectation,” quotes Jiang Cheng from that preposterously thick Lan sect rulebook. Yet his arms wind around Huaisang’s waist and rest on the shallow curves there. 

“You’re really turning into a Lan,” Huaisang complains. “But I think I have a cure for that…” He moves in further until he’s straddling Jiang Cheng’s thighs and he digs his palms into the muscle there, “What if I sucked you off again? I wonder how long the color would stay and remind you...whose mouth was on your cock.”

Jiang Cheng is definitely interested; Huaisang can tell from the way the arms tighten around his waist and the sudden catch of breath. Not to mention there’s a growing bulge between his legs and their wet inner robes hide nothing. Huaisang drags a palm against that hardening length, earning a needy kind of exhale, but ultimately, Jiang Cheng shakes his head. 

“No...I mean, Nie-xiong…” His eyes look so panicked that Huaisang is afraid that his strange dream is coming true and Jiang Cheng is indeed pulling away. But he only takes a breath and says, “Let me.”

Two words and Huaisang grows hard in moments. It’s the anticipation, or the happiness, or just the thrill that Jiang Cheng is the one to say it, meaning he’s been thinking about it and…

“A-Cheng!” Huaisang whines happily and pitches forward to kiss him. Jiang Cheng’s customary lotus oil scent is mixed with mineral stream water and Huaisang just has those lips between his when a shadow flies over them. 

Jiang Cheng pulls away with a gasp. 

“What’s wrong?” Huaisang looks around and sees nothing but more grass and distant hills. 

Jiang Cheng points up. “It’s the fucking dire owl again.”

So it is. The bird wheels along the clear sky, trailing resentful energy behind it like a black fog. But as long as it’s not bothering them…

“It’s a Wen sect spy!” Jiang Cheng says. “We can’t...while…” His face turns steadily redder. “Not while they’re watching!”

Huaisang tightens his knees on either side of Jiang Cheng’s hips (for all the good it’ll do anyway; he can feel small muscles there that are stronger than both his legs). “So what? What will the Wen sect do with the knowledge that we’re enjoying ourselves?”

“Nie Huaisang!” Jiang Cheng chides, albeit to no avail. 

“Or is it that they’re watching at all? Do you think old man Wen Ruohan is getting off to this in his creepy throne room?”

“Nie Huaisang!” Jiang Cheng repeats, this time in weak disbelief. “Wh...why are you even getting hard for that?!”

“I’m getting hard for you,” Huaisang corrects and rolls his hips down for effect. “And I don’t care what some tyrant and his bird think.”

Jiang Cheng huffs. “Well, I do. I’m supposed to be future sect leader, I have to represent Yunmeng-Jiang.”

"Then do it," Huaisang challenges. "Show them how good you are at this, make me scream."

Jiang Cheng looks like he's witnessing an ascension. "Huaisang," he croaks. "That's not what—"

"It can be," Huaisang replies. "It can be exactly that, a-Cheng, I haven't stopped thinking about your mouth since the first time you put it on me that night. Do you remember? Now we're under the sky again and I want you so much!"

That does the trick. That does the trick so well that Huaisang finds himself lifted and bodily laid out on the ground with Jiang Cheng towering over him like something hungry. Huaisang’s entire body awakens. 

“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, come to me—”

Jiang Cheng comes for his mouth first, pushing their lips together in a forceful kiss. If Huaisang were thinking about it, he would call it a terrible kiss, but he and thoughts had parted ways a while ago. Now, he just babbles at the sky and the wheeling dire owl as Jiang Cheng moves down his throat and over his breastbone. He savors the shallow bites there, knowing they’ll sting for days if he doesn’t let his golden core touch them. 

Eager hands paw and claw at his thin under robes until Jiang Cheng has more skin to work with and he goes for it with the same diligence he brings to classwork. 

Huaisang squirms under the hot tongue lapping at the flesh of his pec and swirling around his nipple. “A-Cheng, so handsome, so good to me,” he mewls. “They’re going to be so jealous watching, knowing they couldn’t hold a candle - oh gods - to you!”

“You’re so strange,” Jiang Cheng mutters weakly. 

Huaisang arches up, winding his hands into Jiang Cheng’s long hair. “How can I help it?” The mouth slips from his chest to his hollow just under his ribs. “If I could, I’d have the whole world watch, know how weak you make me by just looking, you have beautiful eyes, do you know that a-Cheng? Do you? I need to know that you know...”

“You need to stop being so dramatic!” Jiang Cheng presses his face into Huaisang’s stomach. His breath tickles the soft skin there, but his weight is so comforting that Huaisang nearly whines when he moves further down. That is a gift on its own because Jiang Cheng kisses his lower belly, bites marks into his inner thighs, and teases his balls before finally taking that flushed red cock into his mouth.

Huaisang moans at the onslaught of licks and friction that follows, even as he follows the dire owl’s wide and dizzying pattern in the air above them. It doesn’t show signs of leaving - gods, what if they really were being spied on? All at once, Huaisang is seized with a hot surge of determination. Let them see, he thinks fiercely, let them see what their arrogance and superiority cost them. 

He plants his feet on the ground and places his hand on Jiang Cheng’s head. “A-Cheng, listen. Let me fuck your mouth, can you take it?”

Jiang Cheng pulls off, nods breathlessly, and dives back to take Huaisang’s cock in until the head of it hits the back of his throat. Yes. Huaisang thrusts, experimentally at first, but more earnestly once the boy above him proves himself a cultivator and renegotiates with his body about the need to breathe. 

Huaisang feels processed by some inborn strength as he pistons up into Jiang Cheng’s heat. It’s a wet lascivious mess down there, but he doesn’t care. Huaisang’s moans turn to keening cries to euphoric wails spilling heedlessly from his mouth. When Jiang Cheng’s accommodating throat finally chases him to that ecstatic precipice, Huaisang snaps his head up, fixes his glare on the demon bird above and screams. 

(Much later, Zewu-jun congratulates him and Jiang Cheng publicly for spotting and crippling an asset of espionage from the Qishan-Wen sect. 

Privately, he tells them to work on their aim, and sends them to their dorms with a stack of textbooks on dual cultivation techniques.

As mortals propose, the heavens dispose, so the saying goes. 

Apparently heaven’s preferred instrument is Wei Wuxian. He must be because Nie Huaisang cannot explain it otherwise. 

First, he and Lan Wangji go missing for so long that search parties are organized and Lan Qiren stalks the pavilions with a mien that could sour milk on sight. Jiang Cheng spirals into his particular brand of angry concern that is matched only by Jiang Yanli worrying herself sick, leaving them the only two equipped to handle each other. 

Huaisang finds himself forgotten in the midst of it all, but it’s fine; he has the time to make a plan for the night they all launch lanterns.

From his chest of belongings, he retrieves a sheaf of his favorite luxury paper from Qinghe. Given the time and money it cost, Huaisang had been saving it for an occasion when he is particularly inspired, and well, love is inspiring.

And so, with his softest brush and the finest brushstrokes, he diligently paints a beautiful motif of lotus flowers and forest canaries. He spends the rest of the night in poetic meditation, distilling his whirling feelings into an elegant question that is Jiang Cheng’s to answer. By the time he lays down the last careful stroke on his lantern, word arrives that his missing friends are found safe and well. Of course, they are; Huaisang never doubted it. 

Not that he’s rewarded for his faith or anything. That night, the fates smile most brightly on Wei Wuxian, who is caught in Lan Wangji’s gravity and is enjoying himself so immensely that it turns Huaisang’s love story into ashes.

Literally, Wei Wuxian missteps and Huaisang’s lantern bursts into flames. All of his complaints are for naught, of course, but he absolutely does complain until Jiang Cheng invites him to share his materials. Huaisang may have to resign himself to making another lantern out of normal, non-luxury paper, but he’s doing it with the object of his affections and that’s something. He doesn’t need props to declare his affections, Huaisang decides, he’s going to make use of this most romantic atmosphere and his not inconsiderable charms. 

Again, a thing easier said than done because just when he has Jiang Cheng where he wants him - staring softly into Huaisang’s eyes under the light of the moon, the lanterns, and the blessed immortal stars —

Wei Wuxian fights with Jin Zixuan, and it’s so serious that once again, Jiang Cheng forgets about everything else. 

Just like Huaisang’s luxury paper, there’s no salvaging this situation either. Even Wen Qing gives him a pitying look as they’re ordered to return to their dorms, all keyed up and loveless. 

By morning, the whole of Cloud Recesses retreats to a nervous silence when it becomes apparent that in addition to Lan Qiren, sect leaders Jiang and Jin have been summoned to answer for what went down. Nie Huaisang remains on his best behavior - the last thing he needs is for da-ge to be called as well. 

Said best behavior lasts until about noon before the library starts to resemble a funeral hall, all grave and filled with silent white-clad disciples. Huaisang gladly makes his way out into the midday sunshine and strolls through the barely populated pavilions of the Lan estate, where he eventually catches a glimpse of gold at the center of the bigger courtyards. Jin Zixuan, who is kneeling in penance, glances up at him and looks away with his usual arrogance. 

Incensed, Huaisang jabs his fan accusingly at the other boy. “I can’t believe you’ve done this, Jin Zixuan! Do you know how much you’ve inconvenienced me?”

“Did I start the fight?” Jin Zixuan sniffs. “Go take it up with your ill-bred friend.”

“I am taking it up with him,” Huaisang retorts. He snaps his fan open and waves it before his face, smugly noting the flicker of envy in Jin Zixuan’s eyes as he continues to kneel under the sun. “If only the world were different,” he huffs. “I would be betrothed to the Jiang heir and you would be, I don't know, counting your clan’s money or something.”  

Jin Zixuan frowns. “Jiang Wanyin? Really? Don’t you faint at the sound of people yelling?”

Huaisang twirls his fan. “When I need to.”

Jin Zixuan glances off in vexation for a moment, but then he studies Huaisang for a bit. Eventually, his head drops minutely. “Fine, I’m sorry your lantern night was ruined.”

Now Huaisang studies him back. “Are you going to apologize to Lady Jiang as well?”

This time, Jin Zixuan drops his eyes and doesn’t look back up. Huaisang clicks his tongue in annoyance. He usually likes drama, but this is making him want to snap at the whole thing like Jiang Cheng. But anything he might want to say to Jin Zixuan is interrupted by sect leader Jin sweeping into view. 

The man barely acknowledges Nie Huaisang or his respectful bow before glaring at his son. Huaisang quickly takes his leave. Annoyed as he is, he’ll still allow Jin Zixuan the dignity of being scolded without witnesses.

It’s not the most pleasant alone time he’s had. Not only does Huaisang feel forgotten, the long walk on the grounds reminds him that their studies in Cloud Recesses are drawing to a close and everyone would go back to their own sects soon. Last year, he couldn’t wait to leave, but this year, he has friends he will miss and memories that will make him cry during his first few days back in Qinghe. 

They make him want to cry now, in fact. Huaisang had come to this reflecting pool to take advantage of the afternoon light and paint, but the ink on his brush has already dried up and no marks are made in his booklet. He’s not inspired, he’s frustrated and antsy and sad all at once. 

“Nie Huaisang!” someone calls. He turns around to see Jiang Cheng running up the wooden pathway to the reflecting pool. “Here you are! What are you doing by yourself?”

“Painting,” Huaisang says tersely. 

Jiang Cheng looks at the blank page and nods. “An impressive masterpiece.”

Usually, this would draw a clever reply from Huaisang and they would banter until they were called away to class or practice, but now, it all just feels hollow. Naturally, Huaisang sets his supplies aside and collapses back onto the wooden boards with a melodramatic whine. “Just let me die,” he begs the rafters as if they might personally take pity and collapse on him.  

Jiang Cheng kneels down beside him and raises his eyebrows. “Is this the artist’s block again?”

“I wish,” Huaisang sighs. “A-Cheng, I’ve been having the most terrible two days.”

“You’ve been?” Jiang Cheng demands. “My actual father is in Zewu-jun’s office, getting a report of our bad behavior.”

“Wei-xiong’s bad behavior,” Huaisang corrects mildly. “You and I are bird hunting heroes.”

Jiang Cheng smacks his shoulder. “Father will not hear or care about that,” he says, but in the end he does smile and it’s the loveliest thing Huaisang has ever seen. 

“I like you,” he says. This is far from his elaborate plan for romantic confessions, but Huaisang doesn’t think he could have stopped those words now even if he tried. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Jiang Cheng’s smile flickers and dims. His body tenses, but Huaisang gets there first, uncaring about the potential conflict between his robes and the rough wooden planks as long as Jiang Cheng doesn’t leave. 

He encloses Jiang Cheng’s thighs between his knees, and takes his face in his palms. “I like you,” Huaisang presses his forehead to Jiang Cheng’s hairline. “I’m not ever going to stop thinking about you, even if I’m a hundred years old and— A-Cheng, please say something!”

Jiang Cheng pushes his chest, easily dislodging Huaisang from his entire person. His expression is so raw. “How can you be so shameless!” he shouts. “Is that something to joke about?”

“I’m not joking!” Huaisang yells back, even though he never yells, yet something about Jiang Cheng makes him feel all possessed again. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last few days? Every time I wanted to tell you, Wei-xiong somehow takes you away and honestly, if I find out he cursed me—”

Jiang Cheng grabs him back by the shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s the only explanation, isn’t it?” Huaisang replies, mind racing. “Going missing with Lan Wangji, burning my lantern and fighting with Jin Zixuan so you have to leave Cloud Recesses early. My dream was right; he doesn’t think I deserve you!”

“Wei Wuxian doesn’t think in genera!” Jiang Cheng shoots back. “That’s why he does half the things he does. And anyway, what dream? Why talk about him now?”

“I don’t want to talk about him!” Huaisang pushes back and reclaims his place on Jiang Cheng’s lap. “I want to talk about you. I said I like you and I mean it. I’ll swear it!”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t stop scowling at him, but his hands, his hands are tight enough to bruise around Huaisang’s upper arms. “Nie Huaisang,” he growls, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare cross this line.”

“I will dare and I already have dared,” Huaisang tells him. “What will you do about it?”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw works. Emotions flit across his face like brightly colored birds, one by one by one until all of his fire seems to leave him at once, and he can only say, “Why?”

“Don’t ask me that!” Huaisang cries despairingly. “I’ll never stop talking, we’ll be here forever. Is that what you want?”

“Would that be so bad?” Jiang Cheng’s voice drops to a heavy whisper. “If we could just stay like this forever?”

Huaisang makes a small noise, and buries his head in Jiang Cheng’s neck before he openly cries. “No, but I think Teacher Lan would have us swept out with the rest of the litter.”

Jiang Cheng gives a responding sniffle and hugs Huaisang tight to his heart. “I like you too.”

On their last night together in Cloud Recesses, Huaisang makes good on one more plan and invites Jiang Cheng to his room. He lights the brightest candles and the best incense. He even wears his sheer robes from Lanling, but they never come off. 

They read poetry instead. Jiang Cheng turns out to be quite good at puns after a few drinks, and he makes Huaisang laugh, even if he himself looks confused as to why. In turn, Huaisang wears his lip paint again and presses red lip prints all over his skin. It’s a complete and joyful waste of time. 

“I miss you already,” Jiang Cheng says as he undoes Huaisang’s braids one by one. His fingers are deft and gentle. 

“I’ll find a way to come see you,” Huaisang replies and he means it. His marks this year are higher than last time, but still nowhere near up to par, so he figures he can take his time going home. And if da-ge has anything more to say about it, Huaisang has Xichen’s library story all polished and ready to go.

Besides, Yunmeng is nice this time of year. Huaisang thinks he’ll go there by way of Tanzhou. He’s read about a certain Lady Florist, and it sounds like the perfect place to pick up flowers for his lover.