( He points out, brows still quirked, no glance for the plight of man nor cabbages collecting themselves around other people's feet. Lethe is the presence unignorable in his mind, curious and nudging, then patient in her consideration of man and man, all too caught up in trappings that no dragon would concern themselves with.
She cannot know herself dead, only knows of a pain her bond feels with regards to her life, but she does know this: humans create for themselves the agonies of their affections. Dragons simply strive to pursue, to fight, to sort, and move forward. Lust or affection, anger or peace, they embody them all fully in each lived moment. Heartbeat or none.
Wei Wuxian knows a different certainty of his husband's peculiar with-holdings, and he sighs into a smile, shivers when Lan Zhan's lips meet ribbon and metal anchor of his clan's symbolism, for his rank within it, his purity of bloodline. A moot point by now, he supposes. Two men adopt children as willingly as their hearts accept them, and know neither continue a bloodline, only a family line.
The far more important one, in his estimations. )
For longer, and gladly. That's no burden, Lan Zhan. It's precious. A gift.
( His voice softened, the cantankerous complaints of others behind them in this moment, until Lethe's idly flex of wings stirs them back to grumbling acquiescence. Gratitude sent as pulse of emotion to her, met with acknowledged dismissal, and a snort from her worn out lungs. )
When you say such things, how am I to resist?
( Resist what, he doesn't name, but the warmth melds with heat in his gaze, and he stares at his husband as if he would kiss him, or fight him, or laugh with him and tug on his sleeve and murmur sweet nonsense with the serious gaze of a man who's forgotten what sweet nonsense words were, when they were meant, not idly spun for ease of interaction.
Shiver of exhaustion and want that can't bring themselves to rights, and he shifts in closer, holds to Lan Zhan's hand. )
One of these days, ( he says instead of so many other things, as they move forward, as Lethe is their rear and forward guard at once, with the reach of her neck; ) you will finally sleep in with me. Or pretend to.
no subject
( He points out, brows still quirked, no glance for the plight of man nor cabbages collecting themselves around other people's feet. Lethe is the presence unignorable in his mind, curious and nudging, then patient in her consideration of man and man, all too caught up in trappings that no dragon would concern themselves with.
She cannot know herself dead, only knows of a pain her bond feels with regards to her life, but she does know this: humans create for themselves the agonies of their affections. Dragons simply strive to pursue, to fight, to sort, and move forward. Lust or affection, anger or peace, they embody them all fully in each lived moment. Heartbeat or none.
Wei Wuxian knows a different certainty of his husband's peculiar with-holdings, and he sighs into a smile, shivers when Lan Zhan's lips meet ribbon and metal anchor of his clan's symbolism, for his rank within it, his purity of bloodline. A moot point by now, he supposes. Two men adopt children as willingly as their hearts accept them, and know neither continue a bloodline, only a family line.
The far more important one, in his estimations. )
For longer, and gladly. That's no burden, Lan Zhan. It's precious. A gift.
( His voice softened, the cantankerous complaints of others behind them in this moment, until Lethe's idly flex of wings stirs them back to grumbling acquiescence. Gratitude sent as pulse of emotion to her, met with acknowledged dismissal, and a snort from her worn out lungs. )
When you say such things, how am I to resist?
( Resist what, he doesn't name, but the warmth melds with heat in his gaze, and he stares at his husband as if he would kiss him, or fight him, or laugh with him and tug on his sleeve and murmur sweet nonsense with the serious gaze of a man who's forgotten what sweet nonsense words were, when they were meant, not idly spun for ease of interaction.
Shiver of exhaustion and want that can't bring themselves to rights, and he shifts in closer, holds to Lan Zhan's hand. )
One of these days, ( he says instead of so many other things, as they move forward, as Lethe is their rear and forward guard at once, with the reach of her neck; ) you will finally sleep in with me. Or pretend to.