Lan WangJi's life, part 1

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Wei WuXian was back.

Lan WangJi had polished his memories of Wei WuXian for thirteen years, the few happy moments like bright jewels in a string of unhappy, dark ones, as he had watched Wei WuXian veer off from the accepted path and into demonic cultivation. All he had been able to do was to witness in impotent horror as the cultivation world turned against Wei WuXian and named him the number one enemy of mankind, which lead to Wei WuXian's inevitable downfall and death. 

Lan WangJi could remember each moment with Wei WuXian like it was yesterday, and he had resigned to living the rest of his life with just memories of the one he loved. And then... His beloved was back, playing the song Lan WangJi had composed for him so long ago, the song Lan WangJi had only ever played for Wei WuXian, and Lan WangJi thought his soul would expire with joy. 

He stood as if frozen, staring at the unfamiliar body housing the soul of his beloved, the face partly hidden behind a mask, not even seeing the flesh, his soul looking into Wei WuXian's, the one he never thought he would meet again on this earth. 

From that moment, Lan WangJi's only concern in this life was to protect Wei WuXian, both his precious soul and the surprisingly frail body he was occupying.

Except for that one uncontrolled moment during a night hunt in the Phoenix Mountain almost fifteen years ago, Lan WangJi had never touched Wei WuXian in an intimate way. The memory of that stolen kiss burned in his mind, the feel of those supple lips opening under his and responding, the hot, wet tongue joining his in a dance of liquid passion. He hadn't held back, hadn't been able to, and he had bitten down on that succulent lower lip like it was a rare delicacy. 

Lan WangJi had finally torn himself away and had staggered to a nearby crop of trees and taken out his frustration and longing by tearing them apart. If he hadn't, he would have gone back to Wei WuXian and taken him there, against the tree, with wanton desire pent up for far too long. It had been the hardest thing Lan WangJi had done in his life to bottle up all that sexual need afterwards.

Well, the hardest except for what followed. Wei WuXian had died, and the cold, lonely years since had shrivelled Lan WangJi life's blood and shrunk his soul to a dry husk. With Wei WuXian now returned, it felt like Lan WangJi's whole body was coming back to life, feeling a little like a limb which had been numb and was now prickling when the blood started to circulate again. Lan WangJi felt alive again for the first time in over a decade.

If the price for having Wei WuXian back, of seeing that smile that never failed to make Lan WangJi's heart tremble, was to never kiss Wei again, he would make the trade with a glad heart.

So Lan WangJi put up with all the constant teasing and the outrageous things Wei WuXian did to pretend he wasn't the most infamous man returned in the body of the almost as infamous Mo XuanYu. Lan WangJi followed Wei WuXian everywhere that he wanted to go,  a hot balloon of happiness bloomed in his chest every time Wei WuXian looked at him, and every time it was a little more difficult to keep his impassive face. But it was enough. For a lifetime spent with Wei WuXian, it would have to be enough.

Then one morning Lan WangJi woke up at 5 in the morning as usual, with no memory of what had happened the previous night after his first sip of the spirits that Wei WuXian had bought and demanded him drink. But as Lan WangJi sat up and looked around in the dim room in the pre-dawn light filtering into the room, a taste lingered on his lips that he couldn't identify at first. Then it hit him and his knees almost gave out. Lan WangJi knew this taste. He had only ever tasted it once in his life, in a different lifetime, on a different body. The taste of Wei WuXian's lips.

How? How was it possible? Had he, Lan WangJi lost control when he was drunk and forced himself on Wei WuXian?

He turned to look around the room in panic and found Wei WuXian sitting on the ground, leaning against the edge of the bed fast asleep, with red welts in his wrists. Lan WangJi hesitated, then lifted him gently on the bed.

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