[ please, don't reject him in this moment, jiang cheng. the raw, untethered yearning he feels is a fragile thing. a shy thing, where wei wuxian should never be mollified by anything he elects to do. it is only because it is his shidi that he feels such hesitation even among the strong need to touch him ( kiss him hold his hand watch how darkly he flushes hear the sounds that he makes ). jiang cheng, like lan wangji, is entirely unique unto himself. the feelings he has for him are special, they belong to jiang cheng.
those feelings, complex and dark red, are what he gives to jiang cheng as they connect, as they glow blue together.
there is a quiet passion in there, a possessive and tooth-filled devotion that has not changed in intensity, though it had changed in form and function long, long ago. the flush of eagerness, of determination that lances through him is palpable through their connection and through the way that wei wuxian lunges in, pushing with his emotions and his body until he's shoved jiang cheng back among their scattered blankets and mattresses ( clearly it had not been lan wangji in charge of putting their bedthings away ) once more. he holds him there, fingers curling around the angle of his collarbone and the length of his neck
-- all at once, part of him desires to strangle the man underneath him --
the hands slide down, lower. he thumbs at jiang cheng's clothes, picking them apart the way he might pick the elements of a song. his focus is on his pants, taking hold of the waistband - pausing only one moment more, to determine the other's resolve. once determined, he proceeds regardless, his spine bending as he shifts his weight down to settle on jiang cheng's calves, mouth finding purchase in the slender line of skin he finds between the pants he is working on single-handedly opening and the shirt he has begun to push up to jiang cheng's throat with the other. ]
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those feelings, complex and dark red, are what he gives to jiang cheng as they connect, as they glow blue together.
there is a quiet passion in there, a possessive and tooth-filled devotion that has not changed in intensity, though it had changed in form and function long, long ago. the flush of eagerness, of determination that lances through him is palpable through their connection and through the way that wei wuxian lunges in, pushing with his emotions and his body until he's shoved jiang cheng back among their scattered blankets and mattresses ( clearly it had not been lan wangji in charge of putting their bedthings away ) once more. he holds him there, fingers curling around the angle of his collarbone and the length of his neck
-- all at once, part of him desires to strangle the man underneath him --
the hands slide down, lower. he thumbs at jiang cheng's clothes, picking them apart the way he might pick the elements of a song. his focus is on his pants, taking hold of the waistband - pausing only one moment more, to determine the other's resolve. once determined, he proceeds regardless, his spine bending as he shifts his weight down to settle on jiang cheng's calves, mouth finding purchase in the slender line of skin he finds between the pants he is working on single-handedly opening and the shirt he has begun to push up to jiang cheng's throat with the other. ]