Lan Zhan's Promises (WangXian) Book 2

Adoration

A/N: I want to finish this Story 

When Wei Wuxian wakes, his husband is still there, nestled snugly against him an appreciated moment, hands still entangled, a strong arm draped around his waist, the pleasing scent of sandalwood drifting in the confines of the space between them, and the tickle of deep steady breaths by his ear. It isn't completely unusual, but it is a clear deviation from the routine that the Gusu Lan sect has ingrained among its disciples to rise early on the fifth hour of the day and to rest by the ninth hour of the evening. 

Given how clearly the winter morning light has been streaming through their room, bright and unfiltered, it is more than obvious that at least four hours have elapsed since the official start of the sect's daily activities.

 Not that Wei Wuxian minds he would never, especially not when he can savor a husband.

Perhaps there lies the problem.

For a brief minute, Wei Wuxian wonders if he should take responsibility. This is clearly his own terrible influence at work Hanguang-Jun would have never allowed himself the luxury of a spontaneous sleeping schedule before him; thus, with silent laughter bubbling through, Wei Wuxian smiles and turns around to face his lover.

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian begins, intending to wake the other. But Lan Wangji is already awake, his golden gaze steady and watchful, as it always is. Delighted, Wei Wuxian unashamedly basks in this attention, burying his head into Lan Wangji's chest.

 The embrace that he finds himself in tightens; and after another quiet, savored moment, he looks up.

"Lan Zhan. Lan Er-Gege, " Wei Wuxian says smilingly.

 "Have I corrupted you this much already? Are you not visiting Zewu-Jun this morning?"

"No," Lan Wangji says, his manner short and careless  but Wei Wuxian already knows to look for the softness in his eyes. It is easy to find.

 "Not this morning."

"Oh?" Wei Wuxian says, raising a brow. He pulls back a little, moving to rest on his side, an arm lazily tucked underneath his head.

 "Do I have Lan Zhan's time then?" he asks teasingly, lifting playful fingers to Lan Wangji's cheek.

"Always," Lan Wangji says, the response immediate on his tongue, natural and free. In the face of such sincerity, a sudden warmth rushes to Wei Wuxian's cheeks.

After all, Lan Wangji will never deny Wei Wuxian anything. Wei Wuxian knows that all he needs to do is ask. It is an easy dynamic that he himself tries to return. 

Only, Lan Wangji is more silent about his requests, mostly left unsaid if there are any at all. But this is of no consequence. Although he still isn't as adept at reading Lan Wangji as Lan Xichen is, he has been learning to pay attention. 

Everything else will come with a little more time, which is, fortunately, no longer in short supply for them already, Wei Wuxian has determinedly categorized all the slightest ways with which Lan Wangji's brow furrows and the mild manner with which he laughs and the curious light in his eyes whenever Wei Wuxian drags him to whatever treat that's caught his fancy for the minute.

This morning, Wei Wuxian observes that there is a strangeness in the gravity of his husband's gaze, heavy and insistent  it holds him steady, stays his tongue.

 When Wei Wuxian's touch wanders too closely to the other's lips, Lan Wangji catches the offending hand, lays soft lingering kisses on each knuckle so tenderly that it makes Wei Wuxian's heart ache.