Work Text:
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And I'm the idiot with the painted face
In the corner, taking up space
But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved
-me & my husband (mitski)
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It is well past midnight when Wei Wuxian shakes him awake with quiet, trembling hands that are much too cold for Lan Wangji to bear. Shivering at their touch, he opens his eyes and half-expects to see a corpse that has somehow managed to crawl its way into their bed staring back at him. After all, no human hands should feel like that: like Death itself ghosting over the exposed skin of his chest with the intention to reach inside and tear something – perhaps his heart – clean out.
But no. To the odd, unlikely mixture of both relief and dismay, what greets Lan Wangji instead is the sight of his husband, his beloved Wei Ying. The usual happiness he feels at waking up to his face, however, is nowhere to be found. It’s been shed in replacement of concern. Hands, especially those belonging to Wei Wuxian, should never be this cold. Something must be wrong.
“Wei Ying,” he murmurs, voice like the low thrum of his guqin, “You’re still awake?”
Cold fingertips trace the lines of his collarbone; an answer in itself.
“Wei Ying?”
There is still no reply. Wei Wuxian only sits up and sighs, the blankets rustling with his every movement. Lan Wangji, of course, is quick to realize what this means. He has spent the past year becoming an expert in everything and anything pertaining to his husband, learning the ins and outs of even the slightest changes in expression. And right now, as far as he can tell, something is definitely wrong.
Lan Wangji sits up as well. Suppressing the panicked thoughts running through his head at a million miles per minute, he reaches over and takes one of Wei Wuxian’s hands into his own. It is still cold, still trembling. He brings the hand to his lips and tries to chase away whatever pain is there with an onslaught of gentle kisses.
“Did you want to talk about it?” he tries again.
Wei Wuxian smiles tiredly and shakes his head. It is not the response he would’ve liked, but it is still something – still a sign of life. “No, I… Maybe later, if that’s okay?”
“Of course. We can talk about it later, but only if you want to.”
“Mn… Yeah, that sounds good. Later.”
At least he is talking now, Lan Wangji thinks. Unable to help himself, he leans over and presses a slow, sleepy kiss against his husband’s lips. It is returned eagerly, though perhaps too eagerly. Despite how tired Wei Wuxian looks, he has a surprising amount of energy left in him. This almost seems to suggest that he’s already been up for a while, which, Lan Wangji realizes with dread, might also explain why he feels so cold.
Concerned, his movements come to a grinding halt. Wei Wuxian whines softly and tugs at his robes for them to continue, but Lan Wangji cannot. He is much too worried now. “How long have you been up for?” he asks, pressing their foreheads together.
“If I tell you, will you kiss me again?”
“Depends.”
“Ah… Well, a while, I guess.”
“Did you also go somewhere? You’re like ice.”
Wei Wuxian gives a half-hearted shrug. “I stepped out into the hall and paced around for a bit. I thought it would help me ease up.”
“But it didn’t,” Lan Wangji observes quietly, threading their fingers together. “Let me run you a hot bath. It should help.”
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble. It’s fine. I just wanted a little bit of company, so I couldn’t help but wake you up… Ah, but that was pretty selfish, wasn’t it?”
“No. That’s not selfish at all.” He’d walk barefoot down a road of burning coals if Wei Wuxian so wished it. Everything and anything – for him, he could do it all and more. “You can come to me whenever you need, no matter the hour. I do not mind.”
“Yeah, but…” A pause; Wei Wuxian is frowning now, as though struck by something he cannot rid his mind of. “Then… In that case, I have another selfish request. Is that okay, Lan Zhan?”
He nods firmly. “Of course.”
“Can we… Can we maybe take a walk together?”
The request is not what he had expected. Lan Wangji hesitates, turning to look over towards the doorway. Winter is approaching, and he knows that the late autumn frost will not be pleasant for them to wander through at this hour. The potential risk of Wei Wuxian getting sick from all this exposure to the cold is also daunting.
“Wei Ying,” he begins, a mildly disapproving tone slipping into his voice, “I can stay up with you, but going out at this hour…”
But Wei Wuxian really seems to want this. His expression is firm with resolve. “Please, Lan Zhan? I… I can’t sleep. I just can’t right now.”
“Wei–”
“ Please, ” and his voice is smaller now, pleading.
Lan Zhan, can’t you let me off just this once? Pretend that you never even saw me!
It’s a battle he’s already lost. Lan Wangji sighs and nods again, pressing yet another kiss to that damningly cold hand he never again wants to let go of.
“Alright. Just this once.”
+
While Lan Wangji dresses as though morning has already come, Wei Wuxian gives off the impression of someone who was just chased out of their home in the middle of the night. His robes are crumpled, thrown on almost as an afterthought, and his hair is a loose, unkempt mess that tumbles over his back in dark waves. Something about the way he looks in this moment is familiar in all the wrong, painful ways Lan Wangji wishes he could forget, but tonight is not about what he wants – it’s about loving Wei Wuxian with everything he possibly has to offer and more.
“I feel like the Cloud Recesses are always quiet no matter what time of day it is,” his husband says, forcing a small laugh. It sounds much more like a dry, breathless gasp than anything. Lan Wangji doesn’t like how empty it sounds. “Just let me know when you feel like heading back. We’ve already been out for a while, so I don’t mind whenever you’ve had enough.”
“It’s fine. I’ll stay with you as long as you need.”
“Ah… Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, you really are something… One of these days you need to learn how to say no to me, otherwise I’m going to ruin you.” Wei Wuxian kicks at a small stone in their path. It hits the base of a nearby tree with an audible thunk , which sends a few small nighttime creatures – insects, or perhaps mice – scattering into the brush. “Then what will you do?”
He smiles fondly and turns to look at him. “Stay with you, of course.”
“Even if I ruin you?”
“You only bring good things into my life,” Lan Wangji gently replies. “Never ruin.”
“You sound very certain of that.”
“Because I am, more than anything.”
Wei Wuxian falls silent after that. His expression is overcome by a strange tiredness that Lan Wangji has not seen him with in over thirteen years, the last time having been when he was still the Yiling Patriarch. But of course, that was before everything fell apart – just before Wei Wuxian was torn to pieces, limb by limb , by his own ambitions.
Just before Lan Wangji failed him and left him to die.
Go away.
If only he had been more honest about his real feelings back then, back when they still mattered enough to possibly be heard. Maybe then, the tale of the Yiling Patriarch would not have ended in the tragedy that it did; Wei Wuxian might have gone back to Gusu with him, and all the people no longer with them now would likely still be here. But even then, Lan Wangji wonders, would that really have changed everything for the better? Would they be enjoying their lives together as they are now if fate had been kinder to them both from the beginning?
Such questions are difficult to think about. He doesn't like how they make him question his own morals and the innermost selfishness lurking just beneath this skin.
Go away!
Lan Wangji wishes he had the answers to everything. He wishes he could look at his husband and tell him all the right words to instantly make all his troubles disappear. But no matter how powerful and experienced he may be in the art of cultivation, no matter how his abilities continue to grow and shape themselves in the years to come, he is only a man. Human – an existence doomed to inevitably sputter out and die like a long-burning flame. He may never find the answers he seeks in this lifetime or the next. So until the end, he thinks, perhaps it will be just enough to spend their remaining days together like this. They can worry about the rest later.
Later.
It’s always later with them. Never now .
Lan Wangji suddenly reaches over and joins their hands, as though to reassure himself of everything going on in their current moment of time. The affectionate gesture startles Wei Wuxian out of his silence.
“L-Lan Zhan?”
“I…” He loosens the firm grip he’s taken his hand with, an embarrassed apology mumbled under his breath. Despite his words, however, he does not let go. It’s almost like he’s afraid to.
“Ah… What is this… What are you apologizing for?” Wei Wuxian asks with a curious tilt of his head. A soft, almost lazy smile curls at his lips, and suddenly it’s like he’s the one comforting him . “You can hold my hand whenever you want to, you know. It’s fine.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he murmurs.
Wei Wuxian strokes the pad of his thumb along the curve of Lan Wangji’s fingers. “It’s not your fault. I was spacing out pretty bad just now.”
“You have a lot on your mind.”
“Is it really that obvious?”
“A little.”
“Ah… Haha, Lan Zhan, you’re good. You can read me so well, I’m still no match for you.”
Lan Wangji suddenly stops walking. Yet before Wei Wuxian can ask him what’s wrong, he draws near and closes the space between them with a quick, chaste kiss to Wei Wuxian’s forehead. His husband, to his relief, looks happy at the affectionate gesture – excited, even, with his cheeks dusted a faint shade of pink.
“I’m no match for you, either.”
“Hm… Yeah, I guess so. I’m a handful, aren’t I? Did you ever think you would end up with such a person in your bed each night, Lan Zhan?”
Admittedly, he’s dreamed about waking up to Wei Wuxian’s smile ever since they were 15. But this is not something he communicates. Instead, he kisses his forehead again. “Would not have it any other way.”
“Good. Same here,” Wei Wuxian says. He closes his eyes as he is kissed again before tilting his head back, puckering his lips slightly. “Lan Zhan, stop being so uptight. Kiss me here next.”
“Later,” and there’s that word again, that word that they never seem able to put behind them. “When we get back to our room.”
“Incentive to make me go back, I see.”
“Mn.”
Wei Wuxian lightly smacks his chest, pouting. “Bribery, Lan Zhan? How shameless you’ve become! I’m a terrible influence on you.”
“Indeed.”
“Then fine, let’s go back. But the moment we step inside, I expect you to kiss me. I’ll sleep out in the hallway instead if you don’t.”
Hearing Wei Wuxian talk about going back to sleep, however, is a relief. Lan Wangji releases a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and threads their fingers together, squeezing gently. “Then I will,” he says decisively, “So we can sleep together.”
Another light smack, followed by a quiet laugh. It is perhaps the most beautiful sound in the world, he thinks. “But we already did that earlier, didn’t we? Even if it does help me sleep like a log afterwards, I don’t think I’m–”
“That’s. That’s not what I meant ,” he says quickly, ears burning.
Wei Wuxian only laughs and presses an apologetic kiss to Lan Wangji’s cheek. Unlike his hands, at least his lips are warm.
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A lot of changes have been made to his usual nightly routine since marrying Wei Wuxian. For starters, the strict curfew he once held in the highest regard is now rarely followed as it once was; no sooner does he settle into bed, his husband comes crawling over with some story to tell, and eventually it’s two or more hours past when he originally intended to sleep. There’s also all the affectionate gestures and private intimacies that get rolled up in between as well, so by now Lan Wangji honestly cannot say when he really goes to bed anymore – he just does at one point or another, and his body hates him for it come morning.
But his evening schedule aside, it’s also the way he sleeps. Lan Wangji cannot even remember the last time he’s been able to fall asleep lying on his back as he always has, for it’s just impossible with Wei Wuxian. His husband is just too active, even in his sleep. If he isn’t nuzzling up to him and asking to be held, he’s sprawling out across the bed and unknowingly kicking Lan Wangji out of it –
“Lan Zhan, why are you sleeping on the floor? Aren’t you uncomfortable like that?”
“Good morning. I’m fine. Did you sleep well?”
“Lan Zhan, you’re… you’re kind of weird.”
“...”
He moves to rest his chin atop Wei Wuxian’s head. It’s a comfortable position, he will admit, though one that he still needs to get used to. In his arms, his husband squirms a little. “Lan Zhan, wait, I want to turn around. Loosen up a little, please.”
Lan Wangji does as he’s told, allowing for Wei Wuxian to turn around and face him. They’re merely inches a part. “Is this better?”
“Mmhm. A lot better.”
“That’s good.” He closes his eyes and makes a sound like a contented hum. “Let’s sleep, Wei Ying. It’s been a long day.”
And for a short while, all is silent between them. Lan Wangji feels his eyelids grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment, both the warmth from his husband and the exhaustion from their previous walk taking their toll. Yet no sooner does he finally close his eyes and drift off, Wei Wuxian shifts and begins to speak, “Lan Zhan? Are you… Are you still awake?”
“Mn.” His eyes remain closed, but he’s listening.
“I…” Wei Wuxian pauses before letting out a sigh. “I dreamed about her earlier.”
“About who?”
“Shijie.”
Lan Wangji opens his eyes. He isn’t sure what to say, so he just wraps his arms a little tighter around his husband’s waist. I’m here, the gesture says. It’s okay. Wei Wuxian thankfully seems to understand and presses closer against him, resting his head against the crook of his neck.
“You were there, too.”
“Was I?”
“Yeah, you were. Did you… Did you ever meet my Shijie? I can’t remember.”
“Briefly,” Lan Wangji says quietly, “Only in passing. She was very kind.”
“She was, wasn’t she? Y’know, it’s funny… I wasn’t even her blood-brother, but Jiang Cheng used to complain that she treated me better than him.” Wei Wuxian makes a sound like he’s trying to force all the air out of his lungs. It’s painful to hear. “I think… I think she was just taking pity on me, though.”
“Pity?”
“I didn’t have anyone else before Uncle Jiang took me in. She probably felt bad, or maybe like she had to be nice to me because of that.”
He furrows his brow. “You think so?”
“I mean… What else was I to her…”
Though they had only met a few times before, Lan Wangji recalls Jiang Yanli always expressing the very things he never could. She would smile and look quite proud whenever there were good things to be said about Wei Wuxian, but then would not hesitate for even a moment to express her anger towards anyone so willing to badmouth him. The type of person she was could only be described as loving , he thinks, not pitying in the sense that his husband is so terribly convinced.
“You were family. She loved you, Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian’s expression tightens and says nothing more on the subject. He only closes his eyes and moves on. “In my dream, I was introducing you two. I went to her and said, ‘This is my Lan Zhan, isn’t he so handsome, Shijie? Your A-Xian did well for himself, didn’t he?’ and she laughed a lot. You didn’t laugh, though. You were embarrassed and trying so hard to be polite.”
“I might have laughed,” which is a lie, because he really would have been too embarrassed to do anything other than cling to formalities, but he supposes he’ll give this dream version of himself the benefit of the doubt. “I’m happy you would have introduced us.”
“Of course I would have. And A-Yuan, too, of course… I think she’d spoil him rotten and pinch his cheeks a lot whenever we’d come to visit. He would probably be totally different – a little prince in the eyes of his auntie.”
Lan Wangji smiles sadly and rubs small, comforting circles along his husband’s back.
“But after that, even more people showed up. They all wanted to meet you. They were saying things like, ‘Where is he? Let’s see the groom!’ and were crowding around us all fussy-like. You looked very startled… Kind of like a cornered animal. I had to hold your hand and introduce you to everyone one by one to keep things civil.”
“And who was there?” he asks softly.
“Who else? Uncle Jiang, Madame Yu, and… and my parents. But that’s kind of funny, I think. I don’t even remember much about what my parents even looked or sounded like. It’s all just… hazy. Like I’m trying to find my way through a fog,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. He’s rolled over onto his back now and is staring up at the ceiling with tired eyes. Lan Wangji watches him quietly, arms still loosely wrapped around his waist. “And my parents had such a weird relationship with Uncle JIang and Madam Yu… Ahh, that’d be such an awkward meeting for us all to have. They’d probably end up arguing.”
“I would do my best to keep that from happening.”
“How? That’d be difficult, even for you.”
“I would bring my family along to meet them as well. They would talk amongst themselves,” he offers. “And my brother… He is good at calming people down.”
“Ah, so Brother Lan would be the hero of the evening?”
“Mn.”
Wei Wuxian’s lips quirk into a small, amused smile. But no sooner does it appear, they tighten again to suppress it. “You know… When I talk about it with you like this, I realize that it was a good dream. A really good dream. The kind you’d have and wake up from wishing you could experience again, ‘cause everything in it was just so… so perfect.”
Which is why it hurts, Lan Wangji considers.
The distance between dreams and reality is, at times, much too great. There used to be nights where Lan Wangji would wake up and immediately run to his guqin, believing that his good dreams were a sign that maybe, just maybe, he’d finally be able to find Wei Wuxian again and put to rest the years of grief nipping at his heels. Yet each and every time, he wound up with nothing – only disappointment and cracked, bleeding fingers.
“When I woke up, I felt… I felt like shit. I felt fucking awful. So I went out and paced around the hallway for a while to try and forget all about it.” Wei Wuxian stops and brings a hand over his face. He’s trembling now. “And then I came back inside and got into bed and… and when I looked at you I just… I…”
“Wei Ying?”
His voice cracks, “I just… I just don’t ever want to… to lose you… ”
“Wei Ying, I’m here. I’m right here.”
Wei Wuxian drops the hand from his face and looks up. The moment their eyes meet, his expression crumples up and tears fill his eyes. “I miss them,” he whispers shakily, “I want… I want you all to meet, I want to tell them all a-about you and A-Yuan and how happy we are now… and… and I… ”
“I know,” Lan Wangji murmurs, pulling him into his arms. He kisses the crown of his head, then the bridge of his nose. “I know, Wei Ying. I’m sorry… But right now, I’m here, and so are you. Let’s be together here, Wei Ying. Can we?”
“O-Okay.” A slow, unsteady breath, followed by a loud sniff. “ Okay . I’m… You won’t go anywhere, right, Lan Zhan?”
“Of course not.” The thought of leaving Wei Wuxian is impossible. He could never bring himself to do it, not after all those years of waiting for him to return. Thinking this, Lan Wangji hugs his husband impossibly tight. He wants to memorize every curve and shape to his body as though his life depends on it. “I’ll always be with you.”
Wei Wuxian reaches up and rubs his eyes. “Promise? You’re not just saying that, right?”
“I would never lie to you.”
“You’ve lied to me before… liar. ” There’s an almost childish whine to his voice now. “Telling me you weren’t close to me, telling me you didn’t want to come visit Yunmeng… You’ve lied to me a lot.”
“That was then,” he sighs. “Things are different now.”
I’m different now.
Happier, lighter, warmer – all these things, and because of Wei Ying. He smiles a little and presses another kiss to the top of his husband’s head. “I promise I’m not lying.”
“Fine…” Wei Wuxian is not crying as much now. The pillows and the front Lan Wangji’s robes are slightly damp, but not as they had been just a few moments before. He’s trembling less now too. Every so often he will hiccup slightly and sniffle, but nothing more, nothing less. “You’re always like this, Lan Zhan. It’s… It’s not fair.”
“Like what?”
“Just… Really good. You’re really good, Lan Zhan.”
“You as well,” he replies, squeezing him a little. “Really good.”
“Then… Then let’s be good together. Okay, Lan Zhan? Always.”
“Mn.”
He kisses his nose, this time. And then his cheeks, and then the corners of his mouth, and then the two petals of his lips; soon enough, Lan Wangji finds himself kissing Wei Wuxian everywhere that isn’t concealed by his robes. It reaches the point where he starts receiving flustered giggles and gasps to knock it off, I’m serious, I’m going to kick you out of bed, but the sound of his husband’s happiness is just too addicting. He only stops when Wei Wuxian suddenly throws his arms around his neck and draws him down closer, practically smacking their foreheads together. They’re both laughing now. Lan Wangji realizes he enjoys the feeling of his lungs burning and ribs aching, and decides to just stop caring about how ridiculous he must sound altogether.
“Thank you, by the way,” Wei Wuxian says afterwards, still gasping for breath. He’s smiling that wonderful, bright smile now, and Lan Wangji’s heart feels full. “I feel… I feel better now.”
“I’m glad.”
“You’ve gotten so much better at talking about things… When we were younger, you’d always just glare at me and run off somewhere, and I’d be left thinking you hated my guts a whole ton.”
“Never hated you. Not once, ever.”
“Even when I was…?”
Lan Wangji bumps their noses together. “Even then.”
“And what if I started down the wrong path again?” Wei Wuxian raises a brow challengingly. “Would you hate me then?”
“No. I would just bring you back to Gusu with me.”
“That’s all? What about my punishment? You have a son, Hanguang Jun. You need to set an example for him.”
He is silent for a moment, considering the answer. “Copying sect rules one hundred times.”
“Ah, that’s scary. I’ll behave, Lan Zhan. I promise.”
“But after that, I’d take you back here and we would go to sleep. You would be tired.”
“Mn…” Wei Wuxian yawns, a hand slipping in between them and covering his mouth. “I think I’m tired now. What should we do, Lan Zhan?”
“Go to bed.” Lan Wangji settles back down beside him and draws the blanket over their bodies. Admittedly, he’s exhausted and looking forward to just passing out for as long as his body will let him. “We should go to bed. And then, in the morning, we’ll wake up.”
“Together?”
His husband’s hand finds his under the covers. Unlike before, it is warm.
“Mn. Together.”
The room falls back into silence as they drift off into sleep.