[ 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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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!