baiyueguang | Deer County IC Contact

No, no --

[He insists with an uncharacteristic wild shake of his head, dark hair swishing wildly. While he still favours silver hair ornaments, the ones he wears in Trench have taken on a sleeker, more simplistic design (still spiky though).]

Everyone should get to enjoy this, don't you think, A-Yao?

[He gives his arm a gentle squeeze, beaming at this man he loves so dearly with naked affection.]

But I am interested in what they use to get the fake snow to shimmer so ~ ! It's almost as lovely as the real thing!

[Jin Guangyao has enough self control not to touch the spiky hair ornament. he does. he is reining it in. look how good A-Yao is. ~~surely this is reason enough to forgive him for the whole fratricide thing, right~~

he is utterly helpless under the veritable onslaught of love brimming in Lan Xichen's gentle eyes and smile--and here, without the political pitfalls and dangers of the cultivation world waiting in the wings for him to forget his lines, to miss a crucial step, to reveal himself, that love is not a switchblade to be held against his throat, or stabbed through his heart. it just is, and Jin Guangyao isn't sure what he's drunk on anymore, the liquor or Lan Xichen's affection. either way, he's smiling again, drawn like a magnet into Lan Xichen's orbit like this is precisely where he is meant to be.]

Glitter, I think it is called. I have seen it at the crafts stores while out shopping with Huaisang.

Perhaps I can ask the shopkeeper about that in the morning, instead, [he suggests, unable to stop himself from offering more, more, desperate to give Lan Xichen something, anything that he desires in this moment. Lan Xichen wants a small felt deer diorama? Jin Guangyao will get him the most elaborate and beautiful one he can find. Lan Xichen wants to unlock the secrets to how to create artificial, shimmering snow through oil on canvas? Jin Guangyao will dissect every book in the library until he finds precisely what will help Lan Xichen realize his vision. anything he wants.

he only just stops himself from saying it out loud, and instead coaxes him, smiling,] Come, Er-ge, we should go home before it gets much colder.

Edited 2022-12-28 18:38 (UTC)

[His heart is doing odd little flipflops in his chest despite being unaware of Jin Guangyao's ongoing thought process about dioramas and deer. No, his attention it fixed on Jin Guangyao's red nose and cheeks, flushed from the cold that Xichen doesn't really feel anymore. Not with the acuity he used to, in any case.

There's a clink of metal and the rustle of fabric as Xichen drapes his cloak over Jin Guangyao's shoulders, the soft white fur collar almost entirely covering the lower half of his face.

Which is a good thing, otherwise Xichen might give in to the compulsion to kiss him in his inebriated state.]

A-Yao shouldn't be cold.

[It's a matter-of-fact statement, punctuated with a firm nod and oh -- he shouldn't have done that -- does alcohol really make people this dizzy...?! He staggers, but manages to right himself, eyes scrunched shut and pinching the bridge of his nose while he staves off the spinning sensation.]

[a brief, puzzled crease forms between his eyebrows, before Jin Guangyao realizes what Lan Xichen is doing. and then a sigh, and a half-hearted protest of,]

Oh Er-ge, no--

[but he's ducking his head to hide his smile even as he does so, to hide the blush of colour that rises to his cheeks at the weight of the cloak that settles across his shoulders. for a moment he is surrounded by the plush white fur of the collar and the comforting familiarity of Lan Xichen's scent--whatever hair oil he favours, Jin Guangyao can't place it--which still clings to the fabric. and so, he isn't intentionally looking back up into Lan Xichen's eyes through his eyelashes, but he also isn't not doing it, ok, it's complicated. quietly, still trying not to smile,] ...Thank you. This A-Yao is warm, now.

[he slips his arm back into the crook of Lan Xichen's elbow to keep him from stumbling again and leads the rest of the way through the street back to the siheyuan. once they arrive, he takes only a moment to activate the seals warding the entryway from uninvited guests. the dim lanterns providing faint light to the courtyard are aglow and illuminate lightly falling snow. without his hat, snowflakes cling to much of Jin Guangyao's spill of inky black hair, but the temperature is too cold for any of it to melt and become damp or unpleasant. once he's closed the door, he turns to look back at Lan Xichen and touches his arm.] Would you like tea? To warm up.

This Zewu-jun can never refuse Lianfang-zun's tea ~

[He's still quite giddy ~~(which has nothing to do with his Lan brainworms getting activated at the sight of Jin Guangyao wrapped in the soft fabric of his cloak he's fine what are you talking about)~~ as they step inside, idly brushing a few flakes of snow from his friend's hair before they can melt.

Jin Guangyao's warm weight at his side, his tender gaze -- Xichen is suddenly quite grateful for his years under the harsh rules of the Wall of Discipline or he would have probably done something quite foolish in his inebriated state. Well, more foolish than a single mouthful of that punch sending him from vertical to horizontal in a matter of seconds. That was pretty embarrassing. He'll probably even care that it was in the morning but now...

...now. He's still arm-in-arm with Jin Guangyao, beaming at him, not a single thought in his head save for the man in front of him and the steady warmth in his chest that he can't quite blame on the booze. He's missed feeling warm.]

[in defence of the punch, it was quite tasty. Jin Guangyao will have to request the recipe next time he speaks to Palamedes--though of course he will be sure not to include any alcohol in it if he plans to serve it to Lan Xichen again. speaking of whom--

he can feel his sworn brother's fingers gliding across his hair in a gentle caress, doing away with the snow that has gathered there (such a silly gesture, more snow will simply fall to take its place while they stand here together in the courtyard). he shivers and closes his eyes, feeling warm for reasons that have very little to do with the cloak that shelters him and everything to do with the man whose gentle smile he can feel on his skin like moonlight, and oh, this is dangerous. this is dangerous, and he should step back, away from the arm that fits so perfectly around his own.

he does not step away. he breathes out and risks opening his eyes to look up at Lan Xichen. a small, wry little smile quirks up the corners of his lips.] It is Huaisang's tea, actually. Huaisang gifts this San-ge with his favourite blends so that he can be served only the very best when he visits. [said with a faint laugh that brightens his dark eyes and brings out the dimples in his cheeks. he touches the front of Lan Xichen's robes delicately, coaxing a wrinkle in the silk to lay flat.

softer, his gaze following where his fingers linger on the soft fabric,] This one is grateful for Huaisang's impeccable taste in these matters. [he hesitates before looking up at Lan Xichen again.] Er-ge deserves the very best, too.

[He meets Jin Guangyao's gaze, knowing how dangerous this is, how they are standing right on that ledge and Xichen is teetering.]

As does A-Yao.

[His heart drums in his throat, hand falling from the impossible effort of keeping snow out of his hair and instead to the much more feasible task of cupping his cheek, thumbing the dip of one of his dimples.]

...The very best.

[Something small and melancholy in him whispers that people do not get what they deserve. They simply get what they get. Lan Wangji deserved a life free of pain and heartbreak. Wei Wuxian deserved to not be scapegoated by the cultivation world. Nie Mingjue deserved an opportunity to choose a different cultivation path than one that would consume him mind, body and soul. Nie Huaisang deserved to have a brother who loved, cherished, and understood him. Jin Guangyao deserved a life free of poverty, fear and predjudice.

No one got a single thing that they deserved.]

A-Yao deserved it from the beginning.

[He leans forward, the cool metal clasp of his head ribbon touching Jin Guangyao's forehead. Frost has collected on his own lashes where his eyes had briefly grown damp, and his lips are cold when they touch Jin Guangyao's.]

[like the rest of him, Lan Xichen's lips are perfect. admittedly Jin Guangyao is not an unbiased source when it comes to his Er-ge, but then again, he's never claimed to be. his breath catches, not at the feather-soft brush of Lan Xichen's mouth against his, but at the press of that cold metal clasp against his skin, just above the vermillion mark that still decorates his forehead. he knows exactly what such a declaration means, and after everything they have shared over the past three months--after the years of fragile intimacy and careful friendship they'd nurtured in the cultivation world--it should not shock him.

and yet it does, and it shatters something cold and hard in his heart, and he wants so suddenly and powerfully that even knowing he should stop, knowing this is going to wound them both later, he can do nothing but tilt his chin and return that kiss, his whole body at once taut with tension while his mouth is soft, inviting, and warm against his sworn brother's.

one traitorous hand frees itself from the confines of Lan Xichen's cloak and rises up to frame his cheek and then, tenderly, trace the very edges of that forehead ribbon. ~~go big or go home, a-yao.~~]

[Jin Guangyao is warm and soft and perfect under his lips and Xichen proceeds with all the trepidation of a man approaching forty who has never kissed anyone in his entire life; slow, gentle, and with a terrible tremble because oh, he wants as well. Has wanted, has yearned, has longed for Jin Guangyao for so long, and here they are; free from every conceivable restraint of their world, every excuse they have manufactured over the year, the handcrafted delicate artifice of it all just to keep one another at arm's, at hand's, at finger's length. There is no one who can use this to hurt them, right? Why not close that last hair's breadth between them?

When his sworn brother, his most beloved, touches the trim of his ribbon, it only adds fuel to this fire and Xichen surges into the kiss, open mouthed to coax Jin Guangyao's tongue between his lips, wanting it like a drowning man wants air.]

[the sensation of Lan Xichen's mouth yielding to him is--it's like heaven, Jin Guangyao decides, if heaven could be described through touch and breath and taste. (he knows his own bitter heart too well to suppose he'll ever ascend to the heavenly realm himself, of course--but having experienced this, how could old Tian Gong's kingdom ever compare anyway?)

too selfish a creature not to take what is offered to him, Jin Guangyao abruptly rises up on his toes and buries a hand in Lan Xichen's hair, fixes the other tight around his shoulders for balance, and kisses into his mouth with unrestrained hunger. like this kiss is a priceless white jade chalice that is already falling from a great height, guaranteed to shatter into a thousand pieces, and Jin Guangyao must drink down the love it holds before it hits the ground and is lost, lost forever.

when at last his screaming lungs demand him to come up for air, he does so with a weak, panting gasp, but can't bring himself pull away from Lan Xichen's arms, and so he presses his lips against his cheek, his beautiful jawline, and then his lips again. he can feel it now; not only his aching desire for the man in front of him, he's never been this fucking hard before in his life, but the marrow-deep shame--that he has crossed this line, that he has brought Lan Xichen down into these wretched depths with him. he has ruined everything, and as soon as he draws away, they'll have to face the wreckage of it.

so he stays, just for a little longer. just a little longer, please.]

[Please. He wants to beg Jin Guangyao, to explain that there is no reason left that they cannot have this thing, this marvelous, agonizing thing they've held between them beyond the fact that Jin Guangyao said they couldn't.

Jin Guangyao said they couldn't.

It should be reason enough. It is reason enough and Lan Xichen has crossed that boundary so, so carelessly.

Reality comes crashing back in an instant, and he drags himself away from Jin Guangyao, putting a few unsteady steps of distance between them.]

I've... overstepped. Forgive me.

[His voice sounds hollow to his own ears, and he doesn't dare look at Jin Guangyao.]

[his arms empty and the taste of Lan Xichen still something stolen and sweet on his lips and tongue, Jin Guangyao knows his clever mind will give him no choice but to remember everything about this moment in unforgiving, excruciating detail until the day he dies. he closes his eyes rather than force himself to watch Lan Xichen unable to look back at him. he hopes, in time, that any stain from his touch can be removed from his Er-ge's peerless heart.]

There is nothing to forgive. [soft, a touch breathless, but despondent.] I invited it, did I not? It is this lowly one who must beg Zewu-jun's pardon.

[the only thing keeping him from bowing, low and contrite, is the certainty that Lan Xichen would surge forward to stop him, and he cannot--he just cannot bear to feel his touch again, not now, not knowing that they can never--

he quickly shrugs Lan Xichen's beautiful cloak from his shoulders, heart breaking anew at the loss of his sworn brother's scent so close, and takes an almost trembling step forward to hold it out to him.] Your cloak. [barely more than a whisper; he stares a hole through the ground.] This lowly Meng Yao is grateful to Zewu-jun and humbled by his generosity.

A-Yao --!

[He draws a shaky breath. He's already crossed the line beyond what can be mended. He broke that trust, he succumbed to his own weakness, and now he is in no place to explain himself.]

A-Yao... is not lowly. He is not the one who broke his word.

[Unsteady hands take his cloak, frost gathering in the corners of his eyes.]

This one begs A-Yao's forgiveness and thanks him for his boundless generosity, but... this one should, perhaps, start looking elsewhere for a home.

[a soft, caught breath, the faintest hint of pain. Jin Guangyao's mouth twitches at its corners, a spasm of a grimace, before he looks down and away from Lan Xichen's eyes. he knows he's already begun to shed tears again. there is no point in trying to stop them.]

As Zewu-jun wishes. This one, [his voice falters,] wishes him only the greatest fortune. [he smiles weakly and looks again.] Zewu-jun deserves a fine home.

[even as he reaches into his pocket and withdraws the small, lacquered wooden pass token--carved in the likeness of a blue fairy wren, connected by a thread of indigo blue silk to three pure white jade beads--he wonders whether he'd doing this to be generous one last time, or to wound himself. himself, and Lan Xichen. did it hurt less when he felt like he was the one driving the final nail into this coffin? does it feel somehow more doomed, more certain, hearing Lan Xichen say those words?

he stares at the token in his palm. then he reaches out for Lan Xichen's hand and places it in his grasp instead. there is a small folded card still attached to it, but it is too late for Jin Guangyao to save face by ripping it from the gift, and so he doesn't bother. he blinks wetness from his eyes and whispers softly,] Zewu-jun still must know he is always welcome here.

[As Jin Guangyao places the pass into his hand, Lan Xichen cannot help but recall that day in the Cloud Recesses when Jin Guangyao had returned the jade token to him.

Fingers closing around the delicate blue wren, he can feel the omen it was made to resemble seething with fury at him.

Perhaps one day they can mend this. They had gone twenty years without Lan Xichen crossing that line, he doesn't understand why now he feels so much more compelled to chase this thing he knows they cannot have.

(That's not true - he knows, and it will eat at him the rest of his life.)]

This one will work to be deserving of such trust.

You are, Er-ge. You always will be.

[that much, at least, Jin Guangyao can say with certainty, with conviction--with unvarnished honesty. maybe that's why he says it again, so softly,] always, [as he forces himself to release Lan Xichen's wrist and hand.

he lets go and steps back--and then he turns away to let himself inside his small bay bedroom across the courtyard from Lan Xichen's. if he lingers, if he drags this out any longer, his resolve will crumble completely, and with his memory of Qin Su still so vividly in his mind, he can't allow that to happen, not again. he must honour her, even here--and he must honour Lan Xichen, too. honour him by granting him the space to let go and move on.

(move on. right. his own omen is a sympathetic ache in his heart, and Jin Guangyao isn't sure whether he is comforted by her presence there, or called out.)

he manages to close and fasten the door to his room and apply a few strategically placed silencing talismans before he sinks to his knees beside his bed and grants himself permission to go to pieces, from the guilt, and the shame, and the longing.]

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