[ he doesn't bother replying to the last message, figuring it pointless to argue any further with wei wuxian and waste his energy. besides, he did - inasmuch as he would hate to do so - have things to ask him. just not on how exactly to tackle the issue.
so he dallies; he has been in charge of the household budget for some time now, and provided that lan wangji does not make any further attempts at impulsive purchases, they should be good for some small expenditure. the rice wine he picks up is not the strongest - but jiang cheng isn't looking for it in the first place. he doesn't want to get drunk. the not-gift in itself is some kind of a truce, a halfway measure of it.
when he returns home, jiang cheng is more or less resigned to being jumped on, both literally and metaphorically; he knows how his sworn brother could get, once he sniffs out a weakness. ]
[ he does not fail jiang cheng in this: as the door opens, he appears in a flourish of motion and cloth. draped jackets and glittering accents on his wrists and ankles, pouring himself into jiang cheng's space with a gleeful sound, his greeting a wordless thing to showcase how he has both missed him and anticipated his homecoming. he bounds into jiang cheng's space with a laugh, arms folding around his shidi's waist to scoop him up, lifting his feet from the ground as he squeezes him.
when he's finished, one hand tucks its way around jiang cheng's face and the other holds his wrist, fingers wrapping around the things he carries as he spills into proximity - smile carnivorous and delighted. ]
Come sit down, let me take your shoes off and you can tell me everything.
[ let him dote, he loathes being cooped up and while the only thing keeping him lingering in their place is his own paranoia and his volunteer work ( he's dedicated to not losing it, not after zerzura cost him the position that markus had passed onto him and he is working so diligently on regaining it - begging if he must ), to see someone return home is a joy to him. ]
[ in a way, he reminds jiang cheng of some floodgate, rushing and filling every gap he could reach, as his arms snake about him and squeezes like a vice. jiang cheng scowls - a motion too well practised from the years - yet he relents. he lets himself ease a little against it, just a fraction, just a sliver of a second before he is trying once more to pull himself free of him, to lift the bag he is carrying out of the other's reach. ]
Not for you.
[ for us, it's implied, with the twist to his brows, the frown that curls the corner of his mouth to a brief sneer, as he sets it down on the table near the entrance. that done, he gives the other man a quick once-over, a look that sweeps from wei wuxian's head to toe. ]
[ feeling the way that jiang cheng lessens against him, the intensity he holds himself with drifting aside for a second, reminds him so much of the way he used to be able to drape himself all over his shidi in their youth - finding him on riverbanks and knee-deep in the shallows, his arms finding his shoulders or his bare ankles finding jiang cheng's. they are bigger now, but he retains that same need to be close, to be in proximity if not directly attached to those he adores.
even if he stops bouncing on him, his hands still find the slender width of jiang cheng's waist. his forearms settle into the angle of his hips and he leans in, on tiptoe, as if flirting with the idea of kissing him in their tiny excuse for a front hall - their shoes neatly tucked alongside one another, adults and young adults alike. ]
Alcohol will give you more of a headache, then. You should let me handle it, and you rest instead.
[ he's teasing, his mouth split into a wide grin full of white teeth and dark eyes. ]
Jiang Cheng, come on~ You move so slow, surely you know how to navigate me by now.
[ his voice doesn't simper, it sizzles as he stoops low, sliding down the length of the other's form to reach for his ankles. coaxing him to lift a foot so that he may remove his shoes for him, so that he may set them aside. it puts him in a position that can only be described as provocative, because no matter what he does - wei wuxian is, in fact, a provocateur. ]
[ jiang cheng, flustered, roughly seizes the other by the shoulder and pushes him away. he has always been tactile - wei wuxian has always revolved around his peripherals, has always clung to his presence the same way jiang cheng had - twin heroes, twin shadows never apart. it is jarring, in a way, to have such arms around him again, to have the hands and the arms upon him that brings back some familiar, nauseating nostalgic memories from all those years ago.
the heat in his voice is different, but it is something that jiang cheng has grown to be aware of now - and he shies away from it with some blustering manner of one who has never really known how to be tender or gentle.
he toes off his shoes, stepping back so he could kick them off, and avoids looking at the other's face as he moves past wei wuxian into the house. ]
There, it's off! You don't need to do things for me.
[ it seems that he's quite made up his mind to not ask. ]
You said it wasn't for me, are you taking back what you said? How unlike you.
[ jiang cheng blusters and wei wuxian, oh so badly, wants to push back against him. he is every bit as hot-blooded as his shidi, who only has to speak harshly to him to throw fuel on the fires that simmer below the surface of his otherwise cheerful disposition. jiang cheng, as he's said, brings out the worst in him. what he truly means is that he brings out the heat, the yang of his being calls to jiang cheng's own and does not give way for anything else.
as he's pushed past, he takes his opportunity - seizes it, quite literally - by taking hold of jiang cheng's arms from behind him, rising onto his toes to press his mouth against his ear and hiss: ]
Tsk, turning your back on me...
[ it means he can jerk jiang cheng's shoulders back, forcing his spine to arch. he may not be stronger than him anymore, but he is quite swift, he knows how to work a body against itself - the same as either of the other two cultivators. only, he is very willing to use that knowledge to be a flirty little shit. ]
Don't grow frustrated with me, I'm only happy to see you home again. There's things I want to do for you, regardless of whether you need them or not. What's so wrong with being rotten with my beloved A'Cheng, hm?
[ a wordless sound escape him - it is one of frustration, of annoyance, flaring against the lips pressed to his ear, as wei wuxian nestles again close, closer to his back. he is forced to bend a little, his spine arching under the push, and jiang cheng turns his head to glare over his shoulder at the other. ]
Wei Wuxian—
[ they do, they do bring out the worst in each other. jiang cheng has always been quick to anger, quick to frustration and annoyance but nothing sets his temper alight as sparks to kindling as wei wuxian does - no one else could ever make jiang cheng want to punch in the face as much as wei wuxian.
though by now he knows - or does not, consciously - that it is not only anger that makes the heat gather in his chest. it is something more fierce, more savage and vicious that directs inward and out, to wei wuxian. it is something of the former protectiveness, some measure of that boyish promise made long ago, it is something, still, of the anger, of the almost hatred harboured for all of those years he remained here, caught in the flow of time. it is all of those things, wanting to hold onto him and wanting to push, both at the same time. ]
Yeah, I'm taking it back. You can piss off now, fucking take it and get out of my sight!
[ though the words are hissed out, though his expression is set in something like anger, as if he would set zidian once more on the other, all jiang cheng does is to try and shift his weight a little, pressing back against the grip to test wei wuxian's strength.
he is slighter, younger, now, his core not as strengthened - not his, jiang cheng corrects, to himself - but he has always been the one for sleight of hand and trickery. he has always been faster, more clever. ]
If I don't need them, you don't need to do anything, you brat.
You're so mean! Don't be so quick to anger! You jerk! Passionless asshole!
[ clutching jiang cheng's shoulders as he is, he's able to rattle him a little. shaking him lightly as though trying to shake the attitude right out of his shidi and leave him soft and pliant, the way he had nearly become the night the three of them had finally, shyly come together. the expression on jiang cheng's face is one he's come to know intimately, and it's the one that leads him to release his shoulders and shove a finger between his eyebrows, right against the wrinkle that forms in the skin when jiang cheng scowls. the scowl, of course, is his mother's blood within him. but the way his eyes flash, lightning hot -- wei wuxian has seen that in jiang fengmian's eyes, too.
the other hand plants itself along jiang cheng's sternum, fingers pressed into the valley between his chest as wei wuxian spins himself to become another object in jiang cheng's way. he is incessant, relentless. now, because jiang cheng's temper is rising, because he can see the heat curling along his throat. he knows it will rise to the hollows behind his ears before it colors his face, and he knows how pretty jiang cheng's cheeks will become when they redden -- it doesn't matter if it's with fury or otherwise. facing jiang cheng, he's able to look upon him better - he's able to see. ]
Oh my, [ and both hands part the collar of his shirt, hauling it apart to bear witness to the mottled marks along his throat: ] I take it back. Not passionless at all.
[ jiang cheng's expression flits through a succession of emotions - embarrassment, anger, some measure of shame - before he reaches up to wrap his hands around the other's wrists and push him away. ] Shut up.
[ he hisses out, and he gives a little twist of his grip to punctuate, as if wei wuxian is nothing more than just some rag doll in his grip and he would dearly love to toss him across the hallway. if only it were as easy as that. if only wei wuxian were truly something, someone, he could toss away and into oblivion - but jiang cheng knows that he does not want that, no matter how hot it burns in his gut. ]
You- are the most awful, most irritating piece of shit-
[ he emits a few small ows that are neither true nor particularily heartfelt, while jiang cheng twists the grip that he's set upon wei wuxian's wrists. his tone is light, it is playful as one would be as a child. it is sly, with all the knowledge of adulthood and the meaning of purpleing marks upon bare skin. jiang cheng is covered with the marks one makes with the teeth, the lips; the same marks wei wuxian finds on his own skin from time to time, courtesy of their mutual partner's oral fixation. lan wangji has left his mark on wei wuxian's beloved shidi as well, it seems. and recently. ]
I would think that getting fucked within an inch of your life would temper that temper of yours, Jiang Cheng!
[ even in his tenuous position, wei wuxian rises on his tiptoes, thrusting his face closer and closer still to his shidi's. he hovers, invades and utterly drives himself onward, relentlessly. ]
Unless -- oh, did you stop halfway again? That would explain it. You're pent up. On edge! What made you stop this time? Were you nearly discovered? You do know that Lan Zhan wouldn't mind being seen - he has such a possessive streak, it's why he bites you like this. He's so naughty for such a gentleman! Or maybe you became so shy you had to flee him? I did tell him you had a delicate disposition.
[ please, some divine power somewhere, give him strength to not hurl wei wuxian across the room or else strangle him to stop the incessant flow of words.
jiang cheng splutters, and the flush that curls up his throat and ears finally find its way to his face, his cheekbones high and livid with colour as he grits his teeth tightly. he is momentarily silenced, his throat full of words that crowd and fight to get out, each wanting to be the first to slap wei wuxian across the face. ]
—Who are you calling delicate?!
[ he finally manages, and though his voice sounds too scandalised, too strangled to be a roar but it very nearly is. ]
I didn't run away, it's—
[ it's too much information, that is what it is. ]
[ you can't keep up with the king of chatterboxing, jiang cheng. ]
You, of course! You're such a delicate gentleman, Jiang Cheng - who wouldn't want to spoil you, haven't I been saying as much? If you didn't run away, what has you in such a state?
[ jiang cheng gives a wordless sound, one that he would often used to give in their younger days - one that would tell wei wuxian that he was so entirely done with the conversation on hand. he says that he has not run away, but the truth is that jiang cheng will, and have always, been the more delicate of the two, the one who would turn away at the first sign of any impropriety. ]
Nothing! We are fucking done, I'm not talking about this!
This, [ he says, pressing his fingertips to all the marks along jiang cheng's throat ] is not 'nothing'.
[ wei wuxian's thumbs find the front of jiang cheng's throat, aligning with his fragile windpipe as he rises higher on his toes and maintains his closeness. his insidiousness, slotting himself into jiang cheng's space and jiang cheng's business - especially because that business involves their mutual partner. he's surprised it's taken lan wangji and jiang cheng so long to tumble in together, properly. they are so much alike. it is so hard not to adore them both. ]
[ jiang cheng draws himself up, feeling the way wei wuxian's hand catches low against his throat, crawling on the bruise-marked skin like some creature from the dark. there is no getting away from his brother, he knows that - dead or alive, wei wuxian manages to be always there, always present like some awful smell, like some ugly scar.
look at me, he seems to say, with the way he presses close and closer into his space until the lines of their bodies meld together into one terrible, mismatched being.
look at me, i am here, i am here.
it is not quite hatred that makes jiang cheng lash out; no, he has made his peace with that long ago, one way or another. it is not hatred which he feels for wei wuxian - but it is something just as hot, just as angry, and he reacts in the only way he knows how, by reaching and slapping the other across the face. ]
I said, [ his words catch in his throat; he breathes fire and lightning and heat that curls on his tongue, acrid smoke and poison. ]
[ the blow doesn't take him by surprise, not really. he's known jiang cheng since they were children, which means he's come to know the limits of his tolerance and his reactions when he's finally had enough. even though he feels heat blossom across the arch of his cheek, the sharp edge of jiang cheng's voice accompanying it -- he knows that he hasn't quite hit the other man's hard limit. it's why it doesn't upset him, being struck by jiang cheng's hand. the bite of zidian is a little chilling, a little souring, but the look on his shidi's face sends shivers down his spine the same as the slap.
one hand rises, pressing to the red stain blooming across his face, feeding into the lingering sting and ache. his entire body quivers in place, expression unreadable for a moment -- is he hurt? is he angry? -- it's not as though he enjoys being struck. right? jiang cheng has slapped him before, they've pulled one another's hair and pummeled one another with their boyish limbs in the heat of their ire. but now? now, after they've become so intimate, he finds that, uh... ]
Um.
[ his voice is a little stricken. ]
-- I didn't know you wanted to be so rough with me, Jiang Cheng.
[ jiang cheng has always lashed out like this; with heat that crawls along his skin, with wei wuxian flitting in and out of his hold like some shadow of a creature that refuses to be caught and held. it is almost a surprise, it comes as almost a shock, then, when his hand meets the cut of wei wuxian's cheekbone, that jiang cheng has on almost a same expression as the other as wei wuxian pulls back; unreadable, a little stricken. ]
I— [ he starts, and the hand that had reached out and struck curls back in on itself, fingers tucking into palm in a gesture that is a little guarded, defensive even though he is the one who had struck the blow.
he looks a little guilty now, a little angry still, the fire flicking in and out of his gaze like an open flame in the wind, and jiang cheng bristles. he bares his teeth in a grimace, ugly-defiant. ]
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no subject
so he dallies; he has been in charge of the household budget for some time now, and provided that lan wangji does not make any further attempts at impulsive purchases, they should be good for some small expenditure. the rice wine he picks up is not the strongest - but jiang cheng isn't looking for it in the first place. he doesn't want to get drunk. the not-gift in itself is some kind of a truce, a halfway measure of it.
when he returns home, jiang cheng is more or less resigned to being jumped on, both literally and metaphorically; he knows how his sworn brother could get, once he sniffs out a weakness. ]
no subject
when he's finished, one hand tucks its way around jiang cheng's face and the other holds his wrist, fingers wrapping around the things he carries as he spills into proximity - smile carnivorous and delighted. ]
Come sit down, let me take your shoes off and you can tell me everything.
[ let him dote, he loathes being cooped up and while the only thing keeping him lingering in their place is his own paranoia and his volunteer work ( he's dedicated to not losing it, not after zerzura cost him the position that markus had passed onto him and he is working so diligently on regaining it - begging if he must ), to see someone return home is a joy to him. ]
Is that a present for me, Jiang Cheng?
no subject
Not for you.
[ for us, it's implied, with the twist to his brows, the frown that curls the corner of his mouth to a brief sneer, as he sets it down on the table near the entrance. that done, he gives the other man a quick once-over, a look that sweeps from wei wuxian's head to toe. ]
Stop jumping around, you're giving me a headache.
no subject
even if he stops bouncing on him, his hands still find the slender width of jiang cheng's waist. his forearms settle into the angle of his hips and he leans in, on tiptoe, as if flirting with the idea of kissing him in their tiny excuse for a front hall - their shoes neatly tucked alongside one another, adults and young adults alike. ]
Alcohol will give you more of a headache, then. You should let me handle it, and you rest instead.
[ he's teasing, his mouth split into a wide grin full of white teeth and dark eyes. ]
Jiang Cheng, come on~ You move so slow, surely you know how to navigate me by now.
[ his voice doesn't simper, it sizzles as he stoops low, sliding down the length of the other's form to reach for his ankles. coaxing him to lift a foot so that he may remove his shoes for him, so that he may set them aside. it puts him in a position that can only be described as provocative, because no matter what he does - wei wuxian is, in fact, a provocateur. ]
no subject
[ jiang cheng, flustered, roughly seizes the other by the shoulder and pushes him away. he has always been tactile - wei wuxian has always revolved around his peripherals, has always clung to his presence the same way jiang cheng had - twin heroes, twin shadows never apart. it is jarring, in a way, to have such arms around him again, to have the hands and the arms upon him that brings back some familiar, nauseating nostalgic memories from all those years ago.
the heat in his voice is different, but it is something that jiang cheng has grown to be aware of now - and he shies away from it with some blustering manner of one who has never really known how to be tender or gentle.
he toes off his shoes, stepping back so he could kick them off, and avoids looking at the other's face as he moves past wei wuxian into the house. ]
There, it's off! You don't need to do things for me.
[ it seems that he's quite made up his mind to not ask. ]
Now take what I got you and piss off.
no subject
[ jiang cheng blusters and wei wuxian, oh so badly, wants to push back against him. he is every bit as hot-blooded as his shidi, who only has to speak harshly to him to throw fuel on the fires that simmer below the surface of his otherwise cheerful disposition. jiang cheng, as he's said, brings out the worst in him. what he truly means is that he brings out the heat, the yang of his being calls to jiang cheng's own and does not give way for anything else.
as he's pushed past, he takes his opportunity - seizes it, quite literally - by taking hold of jiang cheng's arms from behind him, rising onto his toes to press his mouth against his ear and hiss: ]
Tsk, turning your back on me...
[ it means he can jerk jiang cheng's shoulders back, forcing his spine to arch. he may not be stronger than him anymore, but he is quite swift, he knows how to work a body against itself - the same as either of the other two cultivators. only, he is very willing to use that knowledge to be a flirty little shit. ]
Don't grow frustrated with me, I'm only happy to see you home again. There's things I want to do for you, regardless of whether you need them or not. What's so wrong with being rotten with my beloved A'Cheng, hm?
no subject
Wei Wuxian—
[ they do, they do bring out the worst in each other. jiang cheng has always been quick to anger, quick to frustration and annoyance but nothing sets his temper alight as sparks to kindling as wei wuxian does - no one else could ever make jiang cheng want to punch in the face as much as wei wuxian.
though by now he knows - or does not, consciously - that it is not only anger that makes the heat gather in his chest. it is something more fierce, more savage and vicious that directs inward and out, to wei wuxian. it is something of the former protectiveness, some measure of that boyish promise made long ago, it is something, still, of the anger, of the almost hatred harboured for all of those years he remained here, caught in the flow of time. it is all of those things, wanting to hold onto him and wanting to push, both at the same time. ]
Yeah, I'm taking it back. You can piss off now, fucking take it and get out of my sight!
[ though the words are hissed out, though his expression is set in something like anger, as if he would set zidian once more on the other, all jiang cheng does is to try and shift his weight a little, pressing back against the grip to test wei wuxian's strength.
he is slighter, younger, now, his core not as strengthened - not his, jiang cheng corrects, to himself - but he has always been the one for sleight of hand and trickery. he has always been faster, more clever. ]
If I don't need them, you don't need to do anything, you brat.
no subject
[ clutching jiang cheng's shoulders as he is, he's able to rattle him a little. shaking him lightly as though trying to shake the attitude right out of his shidi and leave him soft and pliant, the way he had nearly become the night the three of them had finally, shyly come together. the expression on jiang cheng's face is one he's come to know intimately, and it's the one that leads him to release his shoulders and shove a finger between his eyebrows, right against the wrinkle that forms in the skin when jiang cheng scowls. the scowl, of course, is his mother's blood within him. but the way his eyes flash, lightning hot -- wei wuxian has seen that in jiang fengmian's eyes, too.
the other hand plants itself along jiang cheng's sternum, fingers pressed into the valley between his chest as wei wuxian spins himself to become another object in jiang cheng's way. he is incessant, relentless. now, because jiang cheng's temper is rising, because he can see the heat curling along his throat. he knows it will rise to the hollows behind his ears before it colors his face, and he knows how pretty jiang cheng's cheeks will become when they redden -- it doesn't matter if it's with fury or otherwise. facing jiang cheng, he's able to look upon him better - he's able to see. ]
Oh my, [ and both hands part the collar of his shirt, hauling it apart to bear witness to the mottled marks along his throat: ] I take it back. Not passionless at all.
no subject
[ he hisses out, and he gives a little twist of his grip to punctuate, as if wei wuxian is nothing more than just some rag doll in his grip and he would dearly love to toss him across the hallway. if only it were as easy as that. if only wei wuxian were truly something, someone, he could toss away and into oblivion - but jiang cheng knows that he does not want that, no matter how hot it burns in his gut. ]
You- are the most awful, most irritating piece of shit-
no subject
I would think that getting fucked within an inch of your life would temper that temper of yours, Jiang Cheng!
[ even in his tenuous position, wei wuxian rises on his tiptoes, thrusting his face closer and closer still to his shidi's. he hovers, invades and utterly drives himself onward, relentlessly. ]
Unless -- oh, did you stop halfway again? That would explain it. You're pent up. On edge! What made you stop this time? Were you nearly discovered? You do know that Lan Zhan wouldn't mind being seen - he has such a possessive streak, it's why he bites you like this. He's so naughty for such a gentleman! Or maybe you became so shy you had to flee him? I did tell him you had a delicate disposition.
[ WHAT A FUCKING ASSHOLE ]
no subject
[ please, some divine power somewhere, give him strength to not hurl wei wuxian across the room or else strangle him to stop the incessant flow of words.
jiang cheng splutters, and the flush that curls up his throat and ears finally find its way to his face, his cheekbones high and livid with colour as he grits his teeth tightly. he is momentarily silenced, his throat full of words that crowd and fight to get out, each wanting to be the first to slap wei wuxian across the face. ]
—Who are you calling delicate?!
[ he finally manages, and though his voice sounds too scandalised, too strangled to be a roar but it very nearly is. ]
I didn't run away, it's—
[ it's too much information, that is what it is. ]
no subject
You, of course! You're such a delicate gentleman, Jiang Cheng - who wouldn't want to spoil you, haven't I been saying as much? If you didn't run away, what has you in such a state?
no subject
Nothing! We are fucking done, I'm not talking about this!
no subject
[ wei wuxian's thumbs find the front of jiang cheng's throat, aligning with his fragile windpipe as he rises higher on his toes and maintains his closeness. his insidiousness, slotting himself into jiang cheng's space and jiang cheng's business - especially because that business involves their mutual partner. he's surprised it's taken lan wangji and jiang cheng so long to tumble in together, properly. they are so much alike. it is so hard not to adore them both. ]
Don't you run from me.
no subject
look at me, he seems to say, with the way he presses close and closer into his space until the lines of their bodies meld together into one terrible, mismatched being.
look at me, i am here, i am here.
it is not quite hatred that makes jiang cheng lash out; no, he has made his peace with that long ago, one way or another. it is not hatred which he feels for wei wuxian - but it is something just as hot, just as angry, and he reacts in the only way he knows how, by reaching and slapping the other across the face. ]
I said, [ his words catch in his throat; he breathes fire and lightning and heat that curls on his tongue, acrid smoke and poison. ]
It's nothing.
no subject
one hand rises, pressing to the red stain blooming across his face, feeding into the lingering sting and ache. his entire body quivers in place, expression unreadable for a moment -- is he hurt? is he angry? -- it's not as though he enjoys being struck. right? jiang cheng has slapped him before, they've pulled one another's hair and pummeled one another with their boyish limbs in the heat of their ire. but now? now, after they've become so intimate, he finds that, uh... ]
Um.
[ his voice is a little stricken. ]
-- I didn't know you wanted to be so rough with me, Jiang Cheng.
[ yeah he's hiding his boner now, that was hot ]
no subject
I— [ he starts, and the hand that had reached out and struck curls back in on itself, fingers tucking into palm in a gesture that is a little guarded, defensive even though he is the one who had struck the blow.
he looks a little guilty now, a little angry still, the fire flicking in and out of his gaze like an open flame in the wind, and jiang cheng bristles. he bares his teeth in a grimace, ugly-defiant. ]
You deserved that!