Oh. With his whole weight against him, Lan Zhan can feel every rapid breath Wei Wuxian takes, chest pressing up to his. He looks dazed, awestruck by his good fortune, cheeks heated bright; he gasps as Lan Zhan closes his fingers around his wrists.

"Yours," he manages. "Lan Zhan." He tries to kiss him, but finds he's started to laugh, softly. "Let me -- put down the wine first."

Only Lan Zhan could make him forget he's holding a wine bottle.