Wei Wuxian is something of a master when it comes to obscure and weird talisman, if you ask him. Still, even he’s at a loss when he accidentally trips a talisman that had been left over at the house of a missing rouge cultivator they’d been asked to investigate.
Immediately after it latched onto him, Wei Wuxian shrunk down to roughly the height of his husband’s hand.
Distressed, Lan Wangji gathered his husband and the juniors that had accompanied them, hurrying them all back to the Cloud Recesses. Thanks to one of the bolder disciples pulling at Wei Wuxian’s cheeks while marveling at how adorable he looked, he also knows that his tiny body now has a somewhat stretchy quality to it. His husband had not been amused, and had snatched him up into his hold for safekeeping until the two of them managed to return to the Jingshi.
That had been hours ago. Now, pushing hai shi, Lan Wangji is completely enveloped in his research to break Wei Wuxian free of this enchantment, while the pocket-sized man himself lounges on his broad, white clad shoulders.
Wei Wuxian blinks out of his evening nap as the bell signifying curfew tolls, rolling his head to loosen up his stiff joints. Seeing his husband fully invested in his work, Wei Wuxian frowns.
“Lan Zhan, you would ignore your poor, cursed husband in favor of some dusty old books?” he wheedles, tugging at the closest lock of hair he can grab.
“Mn,” Lan Wangji replies, seemingly not even paying attention.
Wei Wuxian stomps his foot in mock outrage, playing up his temper tantrum. “Don’t you ‘Mn’ me, husband! It’s already curfew, and we haven’t even had our every day! Your poor wife will think you don’t love him if you keep acting like this!”
Lan Wangji, or at least a certain part of his anatomy, twitches at that.
See, the Lan really like their schedules, and Lan Wangji really likes fucking his husband. It makes sense that he would schedule out when he gets to make his lovely Wei Ying so dick-drunk he forgets his own name. Since he’s usually busy with sect responsibilities during the day, his scheduled time to get his dick wet always coincides with curfew, now a few hours before the married couple actually goes to sleep. Lan Wangji’s body is conditioned to achieving release once night truly falls, and habit is a hard thing to break.
Especially, Wei Wuxian thinks, his own dick half-hard as his hole clenches around nothing, well trained to expect his husband’s nightly intrusion, when neither of them particularly want to break it.
Pouting, Wei Wuxian decides to take things into his own hands. Carefully, he makes his way over to the neck of Lan Wangji’s robes, loosening them enough to slip his body between the soft silk and his husband’s hot skin. After that, it’s a dark mess of fabric for him to navigate through, trying to find his beloved’s cock through pure faith and lust alone.
Halfway down his lover’s torso, Lan Wangji gives a minute twitch that rocks his husband buried in his clothes. Curious, Wei Wuxian finds his footing once more, then tires his best to replicate what he’d done to get that reaction out of Lan Wangji. Sure enough, after he drags his tiny hands over the thin skin protecting Lan Wangji’s ribs, he’s rewarded with another full-body shudder. Smirking, Wei Wuxian adapts his plan. He would never have guessed that his husband was ticklish, but he’s nothing if not eager to explore what this means for their sex lives. He sets about wriggling, getting his grubby fingers on every part of his husband he can reach.
Lan Wangji gives a full-body jerk, pushing violently away from the table he’d been working at ever since he’d stepped into his home. With poorly concealed urgency, he rips at his clothes until he bares his torso to the cool air, finally able to reach in and grab his misbehaving love.
