Wei Wuxian, relieving his needs, surfaces again with all the burr of unpleasant bother over the necessities of biology he'd prefer to ignore, or at least handle otherwise, the water sluicing off his pebbled, tiny head as he breaches the water's surface. His husband kneels on the shore, clearer now with the distance between them, holding up a emerald toad that sends its seeking tongue out, snatching a passing gnat out of the air and near touching Lan Zhan's nose.
His husband sways, and Wei Wuxian calls out, a sparkle of laughter that echoes over the water between them, sending the other toads and their frog companions hopping sideways and away at the sudden loudness with no expected personage associated, retreating to the water but for the one Lan Zhan holds close.
"Lan Zhan! I thought I was the one you wanted kissing a toad, are you testing one out for me?"
He swims closer, legs kicking in a froggish motion, and clambers on shore, walking in awkward gait instead of hopping as a proper toad should. It's awkward enough he settles back into himself, the gnats at the water line idly bumbling past. Wei Wuxian doesn't think before his tongue, his body, reacts with a predatory instinct similar and starkly different from every trained instinct he's honed since childhood.
The rolling flick and thrust of his tongue darts through the air, striking a gnat and partly curling around it, the whole of his tongue pulling back in on the reliance of muscles that leave him gaping as it slams home, gnat crushed and disappearing into his maw as it closes. Wei Wuxian sits stock still, wide eyes even wider after the reflexive swallow ends, eyes having closed in the process and sunken before the moan of discomfort and his increasing distaste for this foreign, strange form builds, builds, builds.
"Lan Zhan," he calls out, the bemoaning cry of his distress one part performance for the sake of making clear he is not in danger, two parts honesty as water beads and rolls off his minuscule back, "A bug. I ate a bug, on purpose. Not on accident when flying, this body's tongue caught a bug on purpose."
Solve this crisis for him, one way or another, brilliant jade of his heart, warrior gliding in and out of chaos, intelligent and warm and witting in his pointed, questing, sly learned ways. Solve this horror of toadyism. He wasn't cut out for this life, not a prince or a pauper among men, cursed for another man's arrogance just as he has been again and again.
Out in the waters, the depths stir. A koi drifts closer. Another toad croaks, emerging from the waters to the floating leaves, three times his size. The insects flit and flitter past, alighting on Lan Zhan's exposed skin. The drone of heat and insects and water fill the background of their ears, and Wei Wuxian moans.
no subject
Wei Wuxian, relieving his needs, surfaces again with all the burr of unpleasant bother over the necessities of biology he'd prefer to ignore, or at least handle otherwise, the water sluicing off his pebbled, tiny head as he breaches the water's surface. His husband kneels on the shore, clearer now with the distance between them, holding up a emerald toad that sends its seeking tongue out, snatching a passing gnat out of the air and near touching Lan Zhan's nose.
His husband sways, and Wei Wuxian calls out, a sparkle of laughter that echoes over the water between them, sending the other toads and their frog companions hopping sideways and away at the sudden loudness with no expected personage associated, retreating to the water but for the one Lan Zhan holds close.
"Lan Zhan! I thought I was the one you wanted kissing a toad, are you testing one out for me?"
He swims closer, legs kicking in a froggish motion, and clambers on shore, walking in awkward gait instead of hopping as a proper toad should. It's awkward enough he settles back into himself, the gnats at the water line idly bumbling past. Wei Wuxian doesn't think before his tongue, his body, reacts with a predatory instinct similar and starkly different from every trained instinct he's honed since childhood.
The rolling flick and thrust of his tongue darts through the air, striking a gnat and partly curling around it, the whole of his tongue pulling back in on the reliance of muscles that leave him gaping as it slams home, gnat crushed and disappearing into his maw as it closes. Wei Wuxian sits stock still, wide eyes even wider after the reflexive swallow ends, eyes having closed in the process and sunken before the moan of discomfort and his increasing distaste for this foreign, strange form builds, builds, builds.
"Lan Zhan," he calls out, the bemoaning cry of his distress one part performance for the sake of making clear he is not in danger, two parts honesty as water beads and rolls off his minuscule back, "A bug. I ate a bug, on purpose. Not on accident when flying, this body's tongue caught a bug on purpose."
Solve this crisis for him, one way or another, brilliant jade of his heart, warrior gliding in and out of chaos, intelligent and warm and witting in his pointed, questing, sly learned ways. Solve this horror of toadyism. He wasn't cut out for this life, not a prince or a pauper among men, cursed for another man's arrogance just as he has been again and again.
Out in the waters, the depths stir. A koi drifts closer. Another toad croaks, emerging from the waters to the floating leaves, three times his size. The insects flit and flitter past, alighting on Lan Zhan's exposed skin. The drone of heat and insects and water fill the background of their ears, and Wei Wuxian moans.