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The wood steps screech creaking under the weight of something else. Lan Wangji carefully keeps his eyes trained on his carving instrument hands gone still.
"Your Jack-o-Lantern looks nice,” The intruder says.
Candle shadows flicker dark and smiling against the porch. Lan Wangji takes a cautious breath and replies, “He is not meant to be nice.”
“Oh?” Laughter like falling leaves echoes in Lan Wangji’s ears. “I see, I see,” The dark chuckles voice low and masculine with the same consistency as sake. “He’s a mean Jack-o-lantern then.”
Lan Wangji scowls at a smudge of shadow near his shoe till it retreats.
“Tricky,” he corrects, setting it down in favor of another, to carve. The windows rattle in haughty disagreement, Before he starts the new one he places the lit candle inside his previous work. “It is tradition and for protection.”
“Halloween superstition.” Lan Wangji refuses to turn around. The voice continues, “It's all capitalism and- what's that!?!” Sharp cries like a baby wailing shake the branches. “Go back to the other carving, it's better instead of that thing!”
“It is a lion dog,”
The wood creaks and the lights sputter.
“Dog ?!?! Why a dog? They're awful beasts!”
“Protection,” Lan Wangji states, again turning the Lion Dog Jack-o-Lantern around so that only his previous carvings face them.
“Lion dogs of all things why not a nice white-bread black cat???” The wind moves frigid as if the gesturing of many limbs. “We're in America,” The last part is delivered with such derision it can be nothing but mockery.
“I am Chinese.”
The hand on his shoulder is chilly, “So am I.”
There's hot breath on his neck and the candle flame climbs higher. Lan Wangji holds steady. Huffing in his ear like a pout the spirit hangs off him, “I like this one better.”
The carved húlijīng’s grin stretches across the surface of the pumpkin, eyes mischievous and dancing with fire.
“Won’t you look at me?”
Lan Wangji shakes his head.
“Scared I’ll take your face or steal your skull?”
He closes his eyes breathing deeply.
Clawed fingers tap along his jaw.The nails prick his flesh, he leans in. “It’s a beautiful face. Great bone structure,” The bugs go silent, the streetlights stop humming in his ears, the night holds still.
“I mean no disrespect.”
“Of course not, except, hmm.” The spirit contemplates this, “You're an honest one aren't you?”
“Lying is not one of my virtues.”
“Let me guess it's against the rules?”
“Yes.”
“Is being rude to guests also against the rules? Won’t you greet me? All this wouldn’t be here without me you know!” The presence is no longer behind him, the words circle in the night air.
Lan Wangji wets his lips resisting the urge to look, “How should this one address you?”
“Aish, none of that talk now, after all, we're neighbors and I am a guest.”
He has no neighbors, his house is at the end of the street bordering the woods. There is a clearing in the woods with a structure at the foot of a cherry blossom. Two poles with a roughshod roof among the trees is hardly a house, but could be a shrine.
The rules of guest hood are to be obeyed. Knowing this Lan Wangji relaxes and opens his eyes to acknowledge this evening's unexpected company.
Húlijīng, he thinks, staring at the smiling fox. Nine-tails maybe more he must be terribly old this trickster. He’s perching on the porch railing in some crime against physics that hurts Lan Wangji’s brian. With a youthful face and luring smile his form eclipses the moon. Ancient robes, layers dark with red accents adorn him. They hang open enough to display his collarbones and clawed feet. His legs peek free the same golden type shade as the rest of him, swinging back and forth. Wispy tails sway and curl and a pair of ears poke out of his long head of hair.
“You can call me Wei Ying!”
“Lan Wangji,” He offers inclining his head, “Lan Zhan.”
“So old-fashioned,” Wei Ying claps his hands together looking delighted, “Where's your liquor?” He tilts his head ears canting to the side and lip pushes out around fanged teeth. "The other offerings were tasty if plain.”
It has all the makings of a trap. The fox does not seem ill-intended, only playful. “I do not have liquor.”
“What will you offer instead?”
“Candy.”
“That's for children,” The foxes ears fold down and he whines making the shrubbery shift with him as he wiggles closer. “I want something else.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji hums stiffly as the spirit rubs its head against his hands like a cat demanding attention. The hair is as silken as it looks. He easily runs his fingers through it finding the strands tangle-free in a way that shouldn’t be possible at its length.
“That's nice,” Wei Ying decides, “You can touch the ears just be gentle,” He grins flashing his canines.
Lan Wangji touches the ears. The fur is soft under his fingers, he takes extra care to stroke in the proper direction. Wei Wuxian yaws showcasing sharp fangs and a pink tongue. He wipes at his eyes fabric shifting and hands pawing cutely.
“Oooh, that's nice.” Wei Wuxians leg twitches, cheeks turning pink, “What about the bunnies inside, can I have one of those?”
“No.”
“Okay okay, no need to glare,” He lifts himself hands-on Lan Wangjis thighs easily invading Lan Wangji’s space, “Don’t be angry gege.”
“They are not for eating.” He admonishes the lapful of fox-spirit.
“No eating,” Wei Ying agrees with a sigh. He blows a strand of hair out of his eyes with a sad face and Lan Wangji melts, petting him gently till Wei Ying settles. “No Liquor, No rabbits what can I have instead?"
“This,” Lan Wangji tugs at his hair.
“So bold Lan-er-gege.” Fox-sly eyes narrow, “I know what I want, how about a kiss?”
“Shameless.” Ears hot Lan Wangji grips Wei Ying's waist watching his mouth fall open.
“Mn,” Wei Ying agrees breathy, "so shameless you should kiss me.” He tilts his head.
“ . . .” Lan Wangji boldly tugs him by the opening at his robes and slots their mouths together. He nicks himself on the fangs at first and Wei Ying licks into his mouth cleaning the drops of blood with his tongue. It's sweet and sensual, the kind of kissing that preludes more but is in no rush to get there.
Lan Wangji can taste a hint of spice and something else each time their mouths meet. Wei Wuxian is squirming in his lap panting and hungry. Lan Wangji grabs him by the neck and pulls him off.
Wei Ying retreats with a whine kissing at his jaw and nuzzling into the corner of his neck. Tentatively he wraps his arms around Lan Wangji clinging to him. “Are you gonna invite me in?” he asks words muffled by fabric and skin.
“Yes,” Lan Wangji murmurs watching his ears prick up, he places a gentle kiss on the closest one, “I am a poor host if I don’t.” His yellow eyes gleam, as he grabs Wei Ying by the jaw for a kiss the candles go out.