Sensation @punk.
Touch

It wasn’t often that others helped Lan Wangji with his hair. Of course, his brother had when they were children, and rarely and most treasured, sometimes his mother. But when he grew older and learned how to manage it himself, there was no longer a reason for anyone to. And he never wore his hair in complicated fashions enough to warrant a servant’s help; to spend that much time on physical appearance was vain and unbecoming. But quietly, he wished he wasn’t so skilled at doing his hair. He wished that perhaps some would fly in his face, and someone would tuck it behind his ear for him. Maybe that someone would tease him, but then still gently undo his hair, untangle it with their fingers while humming a familiar tune, and adeptly braid his hair in a style Lan Wangji would never do himself. The slight tug on the scalp that comes from braiding, closing his eyes to better enjoy it, the warmth of someone behind him and the absolute trust he has in them. It all puts Lan Wangji into a relaxed state rivaling that of a cat in the sun. Of course, to ask any of this from Wei Wuxian is impossible. It would be improper to ask more of him than he is willing to give. But, in the safety of his mind, Lan Wangji allowed himself this selfishness.

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