Work Text:
A cultivator's sword was a show of pride and power. If one was to show himself to the world without his sword, questions and murmurs would arise. It was a symbol and a weapon, and something to be respected. Lan Zhan's blade, Bichen, was remarkable even among other fantastic spiritual weapons. The snow white hilt and intricately carved handle was something Wei Ying had always admired. Whether the silver blade was shielding him or pressed to his throat, Wei Ying always found beauty in it.
He turned the sheathed sword over in his hands, caressing along the carvings on the body. Lan Zhan had gone out to feed the rabbits, leaving his sword resting in its stand beside Wei Ying's. He lounged on the bed with the sword raised above him, turning it every which way to see it catch the early morning light. He pulled on the handle, but of course, the sword stayed in its sheath. It knew its owner. The day Wei Ying was able to unsheathe Bichen was the day his world would crumble around him. He shook the thought and hugged the sword to his chest.
Lan Zhan was taking far too long to feed the rabbits.
Lan Zhan shook the snow off his outer coat before stepping into their home, the warmth of the indoors swallowing him whole. He had to ensure the rabbits not only had enough food, but enough hay to burrow into during the freezing night. He was about to open his mouth to alert Wei Ying of his presence, when a sound sent shockwaves through his body. He turned the corner immediately and caught sight of the bed, and the half-clothed figure that reclined against it.
Had he really been gone that long? Had Wei Ying really grown that bored?
The other man didn't notice Lan Zhan's presence, instead lost in the task at hand. Lan Zhan couldn't help but stare in wonder as his husband worked himself open. With his sword, no less. Bichen's hilt really was pressed deep into Wei Ying's cunt.
It was a sight to behold, he had to admit.
Bichen was a heavy blade, so it was less of Wei Ying fucking himself with it, and more of him grinding his hips down. One hand gripped the sword guard, while the other traveled over his chest and stomach. Lan Zhan simply watched.
Wei Ying's hand dropped down, and his breath hitched as he started toying with his clit. That was enough for Lan Zhan, and he kneeled on the bed without a word.
His husband's eyes fluttered open as the mattress dipped, and he gasped when his gaze caught Lan Zhan's. He laughed, and one hand left his legs to cup Lan Zhan's cheek. "Lan Zhan, I was waiting for you."
"I see," he said. "This is waiting, is it?"
"I was bored," Wei Ying replied, as if that was enough of an explanation.
Lan Zhan's fingers traced the carvings on the sword's sheath. "Bichen is a spiritual weapon. Is this… how you treat it?" There was no malice in his voice. It was a genuine concern.
"Bichen is a part of you, so…" Wei Ying's words veered off, and he looked away from Lan Zhan's golden eyes.
"Part of me?" he questioned, moving closer to hover over Wei Ying. His hand just barely nudged the sword, and Wei Ying seemed to hold his breath.
"Like an extra leg," Wei Ying joked. "I would like a real part of Lan Zhan now, though."
After a moment of silence between them, Lan Zhan grabbed onto the sword. He pulled the hilt out of Wei Ying, and the other man seemed content with the matter, until Lan Zhan thrusted it roughly back in. He moved it like it weighed nothing at all, and to Lan Zhan, it didn't. Wei Ying yelped at the intrusion, his hands scrambling to grip Lan Zhan's sleeves.
"I think you've disrespected Bichen," Lan Zhan explained to him. "You should be doing this with your own weapon, in my opinion."
"Suibian is too small," Wei Ying shook his head. "Too thin and too smooth. And I wouldn't feel so… So dirty doing it with Suibian, Lan Zhan."
Lan Zhan pulled the sword again and raised a brow, albeit subtly. He turned to look at Wei Ying's face and asked a silent question.
"It's the fact that it seems forbidden that makes it feel that much better."
"Oh," Lan Zhan said simply. The sword was almost completely pulled out of Wei Ying's hole, and Lan Zhan could see his muscles flex to keep it inside. He shoved it back in, and after a choked sob from his husband, quickly found a workable rhythm. It had Wei Ying whimpering, his fingers roughly clutching the bed sheets, his own hair, Lan Zhan, everything. Lan Zhan could feel himself growing flustered at the sight, but he didn't give in yet. "Do you often do this with Bichen?" he asked.
"No," Wei Ying moaned out. "Bichen never leaves your side, how could I?"
"Wei Ying takes it very well."
"Can you kiss me? Please, Lan Zhan?"
Lan Zhan could never refuse him. He leaned forward and captured his lips, never losing the pace he had set with the sword. Wei Ying's arms curled around his neck and locked him in place, forcing Lan Zhan to hover over the other and maneuver the weapon at a different angle.
"Good! Good, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying called out when they parted. "But, please, can you–"
"Stop talking. Think of it as punishment for disrespecting Bichen."
"Punishment," his husband breathed out. "Punishment, but you're still using it."
Lan Zhan's hand stilled for a moment, then he increased the pace. Wei Ying cried out and dug his nails into his shoulder blades. "Still, like you said. It's… taboo, right?"
"Oh, Lan Zhan, you're scandalous!" Wei Ying whined. He had moved to wrap his legs around Lan Zhan's waist, and was pressing as close as he possibly could to Lan Zhan. The hilt of the sword was as far as it could go, too. Lan Zhan gently twisted and pulled it out. Wei Ying's hole was left gaping, and he immediately ground up against Lan Zhan's still covered waist. He pulled the man down for another kiss, all the while trying to pry the layers of winter robes from his body.
"Be patient," Lan Zhan muttered, pulling far enough away to remove his clothes himself. Soon, his robes laid forgotten with Bichen, and his forehead band was grabbed by Wei Ying. He wrapped it around his own wrist like a bracelet, holding the loose ends tightly in his palm.
"We've used your precious headband, your spiritual weapon… What else can we defile, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying asked, pulled Lan Zhan closer by pressing his hands on his hips.
How was Wei Ying still able to tease him like that? Lan Zhan could feel his ears burning as he slipped his cock into Wei Ying's cunt without so much as a warning. Immediately, the other stopped talking, and his words were replaced with a long moan.
"Chenqing," Lan Zhan supplied. It took Wei Ying a moment to remember what they were talking about.
"No way! I put that to my mouth," Wei Ying shook his head.
Instead of responding, Lan Zhan pressed against the mouth in question, and swallowed down the little noises Wei Ying let out as he started moving inside of him.
Wei Ying kissed back, but as soon as Lan Zhan pulled away, he was running his mouth again. "I'll think of something."
"Think of this for now," Lan Zhan said.
Wei Ying laughed, pulling Lan Zhan down into a hug as the other continued thrusting. It wasn't long before Wei Ying's thighs were shaking, his head falling back against the bed. He grabbed hold of Lan Zhan's hand, and as he finished, Lan Zhan followed suit. He bit down on his husband's shoulder as he came, and Wei Ying let out a weak laugh. They laid together for a moment before Lan Zhan pulled away, flopping down next to Wei Ying on the bed. As if it was second nature, Lan Zhan's arm swooped up Wei Ying, and Wei Ying rested his weight on top of Lan Zhan. "I'll clean Bichen myself. It's the least I could do," Wei Ying commented.
"I enjoyed watching you," Lan Zhan said, as if he wasn't listening. "Pleasuring yourself."
Wei Ying smiled up at him. "Did you? I'll keep that in mind. Say, Lan Zhan, have you watched me before? Not with Bichen, but… any other time?"
Lan Zhan never lied to anyone, let alone his own husband. He nodded shortly.
Wei Ying immediately sat up, his eyes wide and his grin huge. He gently smacked Lan Zhan's chest. "You're joking! When? For how long? How did I never notice?"
Lan Zhan took hold of the hand on his chest. "I wait until you're fine and situated before I make myself known. It's only been a few times. If you don't want me to, I'll stop."
"No, never stop. Join me more often. I'm always thinking of you anyway."
Lan Zhan nodded and kissed Wei Ying's fingers. He would. He absolutely would.