1. Let Your Hair Down

He walks into their house with heavy feet. He almost feels bad for the tile in the foyer as he belligerently kicks off his boots.

“Not a good day?” Shen Wei is, of course, right there, helping him out of his jacket.

“No.”

Shen Wei takes the abbreviated response as intended and rubs his hands up and down Zhao Yunlan’s arms. They stand there like that for a moment before Zhao Yunlan walks forward into Shen Wei’s open embrace, thumping their chests together. Shew Wei is as always unmoved, standing firm and strong as he catches him. He wraps his arms around Zhao Yunlan, holding him close.

“I yelled at my father. Again.” Zhao Yunlan mutters into Shen Wei’s shoulder.

“Ah.” Shen Wei nods.

Zhao Yunlan exists as a deep well of patience and discipline.

No, really.

Today has been a test of that reservoir of professionalism that has carried him through growing up with his father, working for his father, working against his father, and working despite his father. Given that the nature of his job these days is somewhat undefined, and that SID occupies a space both revered and feared, it’s a bit of a crap shoot as to what he might end up dealing with on a day to day basis.

Zhao Yunlan does not mind the occasional chaos, or the frequent boredom, or the infrequent shoot outs.

What bothers him are, as always, the mundane tragedies of lives destroyed by greed and hate and fear. The very lives his father seems so cavalier with. They are both jaded cops at heart, but Zhao Yunlan will never understand his father’s lack of compassion.

Shen Wei’s hands moved to rub up and down his back. “Dinner, or…?”

“Or.”

He’s steered carefully through the living room and hallway to their master suite, and is half expecting to be lead to the bathroom. Shen Wei enjoys washing him, for some unknowable reason, but instead he is gently laid out on the bed. He falls readily and once Shen Wei has peeled off his socks he cocks one leg out to the side and waggles his eyebrows.

Shen Wei gives him a dead-eyed stare that should not be as sexy as it is, then gets up and locks himself in the bathroom.

Zhao Yunlan sighs. Shen Wei obviously has a plan and Zhao Yunlan is almost never opposed to Shen Wei’s plans (at least, in the bedroom) but sometimes he wishes Shen Wei would speak up a bit more. When he’s not in the actual throes of passion he can be as circumspect as a Catholic virgin. Instead of pouting (personal growth!) he pulls off his jeans. He’s sitting up fighting with his tee shirt when Shen Wei walks out of the bathroom, and Zhao Yunlan loses his breath.

He’s still not used to this, the casual way Shen Wei is with his powers now. He’s not used to it and it turns him the fuck on whenever Shen Wei pulls something like this.

He’s dressed in a pale pink silk robe, embroidered in falls of golden ginkgo leaves. It is old fashioned and wrapped expertly around him like he’s a beauty in an expensive historical drama. That is bad enough, but then...

His hair.

It is loose and falls freely, swinging over his shoulders all the way down to his damn ankles. It is thick and heavy and flows like river currents around him, floating as if gravity doesn’t exist. Shen Wei does not need accessories to look beautiful, he is effortlessly gorgeous in ways that defy natural laws, but this is a step beyond what Zhao Yunlan normally gets to see. This is a version of Shen Wei that is weirdly out of place in this day and age yet completely at peace and relaxed. This is, Zhao Yunlan thinks with some sadness creeping into his thoughts, a version of Shen Wei that no one but him has seen in well over 10,000 years.

“Am I in a donghua?”

Shen Wei visibly resists rolling his eyes but sits on the bed and gently pulls Zhao Yunlan’s head down onto his silky lap. His hair falls around them, a curtain of wavy jet black locks when he leans over and begins massaging Zhao Yunlan’s temples. He is focused as he massages, working his way down Zhao Yunlan’s face to his cheeks, and jaw, and neck. They are quiet for a while, long enough that Zhao Yunlan picks up on the soft ambient sounds of wildlife, which might be an app (not likely) or Shen Wei’s dark energy manipulating the air around them to create peaceful, calming noises (very likely).

Strangely enough, this is familiar. When Zhao Yunlan had been Kunlun, and Shen Wei a general and not a Black Cloaked Envoy, they had sometimes collapsed like this after a long day. Shen Wei back then wore coarse robes and a lot of leather, with his hair neatly braided and wrapped, the long ends rarely hanging free but caught and tied with random strips of cloth. It had not been as long as he’s showing it now, but Zhao Yunlan had never once caught him trimming it. He always fought harder and longer and more ruthlessly than Kunlun ever could, but they always somehow ended up like this, with Zhao Yunlan’s head in his lap, gentle fingers rubbing his temple.

“I get special treatment?” He says, sighing as he reaches out to play with Shen Wei’s amazing hair.

“Don’t you?” Shen Wei asks archly, his professorial tone creeping into his voice, an attempt to sound authoritative despite the pampering. It’s effective, if not in the way Shen Wei hopes. Zhao Yunlan loves it when his husband is stern.

“I do! Always. I deserve it.” He twists Shen Wei’s silken hair around his fingers, admiring the shine, enjoying the small spark of dark energy that snaps against his skin that is still so strange despite the years he’s had to get used to touching it.

It then untwists itself, gently floating free from his grasp. He blinks at his fingers. “The fuck?”

Shen Wei grimaces. “I’m sorry, I meant to tie it back but I heard you—”

“Wait, wait. No, you do not get to distract me, my heavenly beloved!” He chooses another lock and weaves it through his fingers, wrapping the end around his pinky. Behind and above him, Shen Wei looks down with a bland, yet somehow expectant, expression.

Again, the hair shifts and slowly unwinds from his pinky, then pulls out of his fingers completely. Zhao Yunlan stares at his hand.

“What just happened?”

“It has a mind of its own,” Shen Wei says apologetically.

Zhao Yunlan sits up slowly, turning to face Shen Wei so their knees are touching. Shen Wei’s ears are very red. He doesn’t look ashamed or upset, more like he’s actually...embarrassed? His hair is moving softly as if being rustled by a heavy breeze, but there is no such wind in their bedroom. They don’t even have a ceiling fan.

“Really? You have...sentient hair?” He cocks his head. “Is that why you like to wear it short?”

“It’s not sentient, Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei chides him, then looks away, up at some point in the corner of the room. “It’s my hair.”

“But it moves of its own accord?”

Narrow eyes focus on him again. “You should be familiar with body parts moving of their own accord.”

Zhao Yunlan gasps and slaps a hand over his chest. “Beloved! Did you just make a lewd reference to my manly anatomy?”

Shen Wei frowns at him.

“By which I mean, my cock?” Zhao Yunlan grins.

Long locks of hair whip out and wrap around his wrists and arms and legs, yanking and pulling until he’s thrown onto his back. Shen Wei crawls over him and his hair tightens its hold, pinning Zhao Yunlan down as Shen Wei settles on his hips. He’s only in his underwear and he can feel the silk robe bunched up around Shen Wei’s legs, barely separating their skin.

“As with any other body part, my hair reflects my mood,” he says, hand firmly planted in the middle of Zhao Yunlan’s chest. Zhao Yunlan, for his part, wrestles lightly with the silken restraints and also his breath.

“My mood is turned on, if you’re asking,” Zhao Yunlan says with a breathy gasp and a roll of his hips.

Shen Wei’s hair tightens around his wrists and upper thighs, just a little. It’s not painful and certainly nowhere near the kind of bondage they have experimented with in the past, but more playful. If hair could be described as “playful.” Shen Wei is looking down on him with eyes so dark with desire that Zhao Yunlan thinks he can see dark energy roiling in them.

“This is why you always wore your hair braided and tied up, back then, isn’t it?” He whispers, and they both know what he’s talking about, the “back then” they usually avoid discussing too much. Shen Wei’s expression flexes for a moment — sadness, maybe, or just plain grief — but he uses his other hand to gently caress Zhao Yunlan’s face, fingers tracing over his nose, his eyebrows, his lips. He nods.

“Haixingren...even back then, it bothered them, how our hair reacts, how dark energy lives in it. We tied it down, braided it back, but these days it is easier to maintain it short.”

“Suddenly Lao Chu’s terrible buzz cuts make much more sense,” Zhao Yunlan says before grabbing Shen Wei’s index finger with his teeth and sucking on it. He closes his eyes briefly but opens them again to look up. Shen Wei’s hair is moving around them as if caught in the current of a river, and the illusion that they are actually underwater hits Zhao Yunlan hard enough to make him gasp for a huge breath of air.

“A-Lan, A-Lan, let me, I want—” Shen Wei stutters the words, always careful to ask first. His fear that Zhao Yunlan might say no and push him away is real, if (in Zhao Yunlan’s opinion) ridiculous.

“Yes, yes, damn it—” He’s cut off by Shen Wei leaning down and kissing him. His lips are soft but unyielding, demanding Zhao Yunlan’s submission which he gladly gives. He relaxes into the hold of Shen Wei’s hair, which loosens and starts...stroking his hair?

He pulls his mouth away. “Is your hair petting me?”

“I—” Shen Wei looks startled and gives a little jerk, as if he is getting ready to get up.

“Stay! I think it’s cute! Weird, but cute. Your hair is you, right? So you want to pet me. While we’re making out.” He grins again. “Awesome.”

Shen Wei huffs at him with a small but insincere frown, then melts back down on top of him to kiss him again. With his hands held, even loosely, by thick ropes of hair, Zhao Yunlan cannot undress Shen Wei the way he would like to so instead spreads his legs a little under him and rolls his hips again. Shen Wei gives a satisfactory groan into his mouth when their erections rub together, a hot burning line of desperation they share despite the layers of cloth in the way.

Or, not so much, as Zhao Yunlan’s underwear is rolled off of him by almost ticklish locks of hair. “Oh my god, your hair is undressing me,” he says in the middle of their kiss. Shen Wei is still leaning on him with one hand on his chest and his other tenderly holding Zhao Yunlan’s jaw. He does not bother to actually look at Zhao Yunlan, instead kissing down his neck, peppering his skin with wet, worshipful lips.

“I love your hair,” Zhao Yunlan whispers into Shen Wei’s ear as his underwear is completely yanked free of his feet and disappears. He’s as naked as he needs to be and his erection is pressing up against the smooth, cool silk of the pretty pink robe. Which, surely, is slowly getting ruined.

“Mmmm,” Shen Wei responds, his voice low and rugged, the way it gets when he’s distracted and not paying attention to propriety. He sucks at Zhao Yunlan’s sensitive skin over his collarbone, worrying it until Zhao Yunlan can feel the blood rising to bruise. He’s moaning loudly in appreciation so he barely notices as Shen Wei lifts his hands away and starts undoing the sash of his robe and the robe itself — too many ties, Zhao Yunlan hates those things in practice — but he does notice when his thighs are pulled wide by thick cords of hair and Shen Wei shifts his own legs to settle in between. He doesn’t even bother shifting the robe off, just tosses the long sash aside and yanks it open, his hair pulling Zhao Yunlan’s legs up and holding them wide.

Shen Wei tosses his head and his hair releases Zhao Yunlan’s wrists. He immediately grabs for Shen Wei and drags him close so their bodies are pressed together. His legs are still spread wide by the ropes of hair. “Ah,” he says pointedly while Shen Wei sucks another hickey onto him, right above his left nipple. He knows where this is going but—

With a chuckle that could, in other circumstances, be considered a growl, Shen Wei reaches out and grabs their bedside tub of lube. Zhao Yunlan relaxes his spine but keeps his grip on Shen Wei’s silk-clad shoulders tight, knowing this is not going to be a night of slow buildup. He could tell by Shen Wei’s hair alone, he thinks with a laugh, watching some strands whip through the air with excitement. They are both cocooned by the waves of hair, some of it holding Zhao Yunlan’s legs apart but most of it moving around them in invisible currents of energy.

He’s right about Shen Wei’s patience, which is thin at the best of times when it comes to sex. He opens Zhao Yunlan up perfunctorily but efficiently while Zhao Yunlan moans and gasps under him. Shen Wei’s expression is stoic, for the moment, but locks of his hair continue to swoop around, curling and unfurling dramatically in the air. It really does remind Zhao Yunlan of his favorite xianxia heroes with their majestic flowing hairstyles, and he’s so caught up in watching it that he is caught by surprise when Shen Wei presses the head of his cock against his hole.

“Ai!” Zhao Yunlan laughs.

“Pay attention, Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei scolds, breathless. His cheeks are red from blushing like they never do in any other situation, and his eyes blown black with lust. The robe hangs open, framing his torso, the pink of it offsetting the cream of his skin.

“Your hair distracts me, Xiao Wei. I am innocent!” He tilts his head, giving him a coquettish flirt. “Or not so innocent. Ge ge going to punish me?”

“You are insufferable,” Shen Wei says and pushes in hard and fast, smirking down at him.

“Damn it,” Zhao Yunlan curses but he’s laughing, his legs fighting against the bands of hair holding them in place. Shen Wei’s cock is only halfway in, and he’s holding still as stone while Zhao Yunlan squirms and complains under him. It is, by now, an old and familiar game with them, but the controlled countenance that Zhao Yunlan usually sees on his beloved’s face is dramatically offset by the way his hair is shifting around in thrumming waves of movement.

“Oh, this does get you off, doesn’t it?” Zhao Yunlan says when he can talk again, staring up at the locks of hair that have taken to petting him again, silken strands stroking his hair and cheeks and chest. It strikes him that there is still so much he doesn’t know about Shen Wei, so much that the other man either doesn’t realize he should share or, maybe, doesn’t want to. His hair is amazing and beautiful but he’s never let it fall free like this, not when he was little more than a child soldier and not in all the years they have lived together.

Shen Wei is focusing on fucking, for the moment, pushing in the rest of way slowly and then setting up a steady rhythm, his eyes closed and his mouth set in a pleased grimace. But Zhao Yunlan is not as single minded as he usually is when under Shen Wei. He reaches up and gently grabs a fistful of floating hair, wrapping it around his hand.

Shen Wei jerks, his whole body spasming and his eyes flying open. He stares down at Zhao Yunlan in genuine surprise.

“I like petting your hair as much as it likes petting me,” Zhao Yunlan purrs, fondling the strands he’s clutching.

“Zhao Yunlan, ” Shen Wei says with a mouthful of lust, his lips wet and as pink as his battered robe. He shudders when Zhao Yunlan runs his fingers along another lock of hair.

“You feel that, huh?” His voice is even huskier than usual, and his cock is leaking onto his belly. He’s painfully hard. “Hey. How about—” He takes the hair in his hand and unwinds it while Shen Wei pants loudly. He carefully moves his hand to the space between them and Shen Wei gasps loudly as Zhao Yunlan wraps the heavy rope around his own cock. Instinctively, it seems, the lock of hair tightens and he groans, thrusting up. Shen Wei’s eyes are wide and bright, his mouth hanging open, and his hips only stuttering out small, shallow thrusts.

“You’ve never played with your hair before, have you?” Zhao Yunlan asks, running the tips of his fingers down Shen Wei’s chest.

“No. No, I…no.” Shen Wei shudders again, hard enough to send sparks through Zhao Yunlan’s nerves.

“Shen Wei! Move, damn it. C’mon—”

Shen Wei is not usually willing to take orders but here and now he falls in line, both hands on the mattress at either side of Zhao Yunlan’s body, thrusting hard and fast. The lock of hair wrapped around Zhao Yunlan’s cock pulses, squeezing and then releasing pressure over and over again. Shen Wei is slamming into him, the robe falling off his shoulders and pooling down his back and arms. Zhao Yunlan throws his head back, reaching for air and another second of pleasure before ecstasy slams into his spine and down to his cock. He cries out, clawing at Shen Wei’s arms as he comes and only just registers Shen Wei’s own surprised gasp as he follows over the edge.

He lays in their mess, blissed out and wrapped in Shen Wei’s...everything. Arms, legs, hair are all wrapped around him. It’s a little hot, despite the cool edge Shen Wei’s skin normally has. They both worked up a sweat.

Shen Wei shifts, as if reading his mind, and runs his hands over Zhao Yunlan in his usual after-care check.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!”

“Are you?”

“It was one time, Shen Wei. I promise I’m not injured or cramping.” Zhao Yunlan sighs heavily. He picks up a lock of hair from where it is strewn about him, unmoving. “Did I wear your hair out?”

Shen Wei tries not to laugh and rolls his eyes, then gives a slight shudder as Zhao Yunlan continues playing with his hair. He doesn’t stop him, though.

“Doesn’t it hurt when you cut it?” Zhao Yunlan looks at the ends.

“No. It is just a vessel for my dark energy. It is reactionary, not sentient.”

“You never cut it, do you?” Zhao Yunlan thinks about it, realizing Shen Wei has never once been to a barber shop. Some detective he is.

“I could if I needed to, but it adjusts to my needs.” Shen Wei shrugs, pulling off the robe to clean them up. It’s probably ruined, or more likely Shen Wei will use his powers to do the magical Dixing version of dry cleaning. Zhao Yunlan has never seen him take his clothes to a dry cleaner, either. “Lao Chu has to cut his. It is different for everyone.”

“But yours is more powerful, of course.”

Shen Wei sighs again, as if Zhao Yunlan is simply too much to deal with. “Of course.”

“Hmmm.” Zhao Yunlan tucks up against him when Shen Wei finally puts the robe aside, pulling him into a cuddle. He will fall asleep and wake up to a prim, proper, and short haired Shen Wei in the morning. For now, though, he wonders if Shen Wei would let him comb and braid his long hair. He wonders what other wonderful things he will learn about his husband when he does.