Archive of Our Own

1

The plan had been simple; get to the other side of the country to appease his brother’s polite but incessant hounding. 

“Use the holidays to get away from it all,” he’d said for the umpteenth time. “See a bit of the world, explore new things, meet new people.”

Begrudgingly, when another empty composition sheet was staring back at him and driving him mad, Lan Wangji had caved and looked online for possible vacation spots. 

He had found the ad charming, the idea of simply switching homes for a week easier than booking a hotel and having to eat room service. Staying in the same country was an added bonus, away and yet hopefully familiar. Miss Jiang Yanli, the owner of the house he was currently in, had been perfectly pleasant. Eager to get away from her home just as much as Lan Wangji was to leave his. 

Something about a broken heart, but he hadn’t wanted to intrude and had not asked questions. The whole exchange had lasted about 30 minutes and he had packed his bags right after. The promise of a quiet holiday was enticing, he had hoped the new place would inspire him. Perhaps giving his muse another tableau to paint would get him out of his composing rut. 

Arrival had been smooth, Yanli’s house homey and welcoming. Grocery shopping had even been unnecessary. Except for the big tub of spicy pepper paste, he’d been able to use all of the ingredients set out for him to make a nice meal. It was a quiet, predictable evening, exactly what Lan Wangji liked. 

A few minutes before midnight, his quiet is disturbed when a loud banging on the front door wakes him from a peaceful slumber. It takes him a while to adjust to suddenly awakening in a strange place, not quite sure where he is and why anyone would wake him several hours before his alarm clock is set to go off.

He stumbles through the unfamiliar house towards the front door, when he hears a loud, sing-song voice on the other side of it. Startled, he slows and listens. 

“Jie-jie pleeease it’s SO cold and I need to pee!! I promise it’s the last time!” the voice howls. 

Jie-jie? Wangji wonders, this must be one of Yanli’s brothers. He opens the door when the man seems to be midway through another whiny “please”. The movement makes him stumble a little, his eyes squinting at the sudden appearance of Wangji. He looks puzzled at the building, leaning back and searching the house for a sign he’s knocked on the wrong door. Then his eyes snap back to Wangji in his pyjamas and a warmth finds its way to the tips of Wangji’s ears. 

“Hi.” the man says, a bright smile follows. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how to react, his brain still blurry from sleep and unable to process what’s happening. The man in front of him, quite possibly the most beautiful human he has ever seen, continues to beam at him. 

Narrowing his eyes, he tries to think of the name Yanli had mentioned to him. “Jiang Cheng?” he asks, his voice still coated with sleep. 

“My jie-jie?” the man asks at the same time, his breath a puff of warm air in the freezing cold. A giggle sent into the air after their voices clash, and Lan Wangji grips the door handle even harder at the sound. Like windchimes on a spring morning, a fluttering he hasn’t felt before weaves through him. 

“Ah! I’m Wei Wuxian, this is my jie-jie’s house! I... think…” He tries to inspect the outside of the house again without moving from his spot. That’s when Wangji notices him sway a little, and he leans in to grab onto his elbow to steady him before he falls backwards. The touch seems too casual, so unlike him, and he snaps his hand back. The grip did seem to have put Wuxian back upright and he giggles again. A little tipsy, Wangji concludes, and very cute.

“Your sister and I exchanged houses for the holidays.” He explains, ignoring the heat most evidently colouring his ears by now. 

“Ah!” The other exclaims again, leaning against the doorframe now and invading Lan Wangji’s space as he does so. His brows furrowed, he leans forward a little and crosses his arms. “That doesn’t really sound like my sister.” 

It might have been meant to look intimidating but Lan Wangji thinks it’s the most adorable thing he has ever seen. He squares his shoulders and looks vaguely into the distance to compose himself.  

“I do not know your sister well enough to agree or disagree,” he says in response, “but I assure you she’s in my home whilst I am in hers as per our agreement.”

Wei Wuxian nods at that, looking around before leaning in further. “Mind if I come in for a minute? It’s freezing!” he asks, and Lan Wangji can’t seem to do anything but nod vaguely before he’s brushing past. 

“You see, quite embarrassing really,” Wei Wuxian continues as he walks into the living area. “My sister puts me up whenever I hang a little too long with my friends at the bar down the road.” He tugs at his scarf, his cheeks heated from moving into the warmth of the house. 

“She doesn’t want me driving after drinking, you see, and it started snowing like mad. I could always try and call Huaisang to check if he’s still there.” His eyes turn towards the ceiling with a sigh. Cute, Wangji thinks again. All other vocabulary seems to have vanished from his mind.

“He might have called an Uber but I have the worst rating on there so I don't think an Uber would want to drive all the way to this outskirt of town to pick me up. Tipsy, at that.” 

He walks towards the couch, but turns towards Lan Wangji instead of dropping down onto it. “Would you mind terribly if I crash here tonight uhm… Wait, what’s your name?”

It takes a second for Wangji’s still sleepy brain to register the question. The fairylights of Yanli’s christmas decorations are the only light in the room, making this feel like a dream.

“Lan Wangji.” he answers, hating the sound of his raspy voice. The echo of his formal name creating a distance in between them he instantly regrets. He opens his mouth, intending to give his birth name, but gets interrupted by another storm of monologue. 

“Nice to meet you, Lan Wangji! I’m Wei Wuxian, birth name Weiying.” he beams, “I apologize for crashing your holidays with my shenanigans.” He pouts, and even though Wangji knows this is exactly how Wuxian gets what he wants, he can’t help but feel shy at how easily it makes him feel hot all over. 

“Mn.” he says, his insides reeling. Wuxian, Weiying , finally lets himself fall into the couch cushions with a dramatic huff. 

“I allow myself one day a month only, but then Huaisang bet me I couldn’t fold paper swans whilst drunk. So I had to get a little drunk first to prove him wrong, of course. But they didn’t even have a bottle of Emperor's Smile! So I had to settle for their atrocious red wine, truly an establishment should always have some…”

“Can you?” Wangji asks, ignoring the way his hand itches to tuck a lock of hair behind Weiying’s ears as he struggles to himself. Wuxian manages to push the hair back as he looks up and scans Wangji’s face in confusion. 

“Paper swans? Of course! Even bunnies, which he did not appreciate nearly enough.” Weiying huffs, opening his coat and jumping up and down to get his arms out of the sleeves. 

The clock on the mantle announces midnight with a gentle chime and it takes Wangji out of his reverie. Paper bunnies, he thinks, how he would have loved to see them. 

“Aah that’s the last bus gone then.” Weiying says apologetically, eyebrows raised in Wangji’s direction. Lan Wangji is now painfully aware of his stuffy pajamas with little clouds and wishes he slept in something more flattering. Less senior citizen-style, as Xichen loved to comment.

“It’s fine.” he says. Don’t go. He thinks.

It’s all the confirmation the other seems to need, chucking off the rest of his coat at superhuman speed and tossing it on the armchair near the fireplace. “I’ll be gone before you get up, I promise!” he yelps as he struggles out of his black boots. 

“I wake up at seven.” Wangji says flatly, his composure ruined by Weiying’s fingers reaching for the button of his pants. 

To his relief, the hands still before doing something unthinkable like taking off the tight black jeans. Yet Wangji’s eyes can’t seem to leave the place where the dark red t-shirt meets the top of Weiying’s pants anyway. As the other stands up, it moves a little and Wangji catches a sliver of tanned skin and nearly overheats. He should have killed the fire before going to bed, it’s way too hot in here. 

“Oh my god?” it sounds like a question, but Wangji can’t be sure how he’s meant to reply. Weiying takes a blanket out of a box beneath the coffee table and makes the couch into a make-shift bed. “Even on holiday?”

“Mn.” he voices, then turns around swiftly and walks back to the safety of his room. Where it is much cooler and no loud, gorgeous men are taking off their pants. 

2

The next hour is pure torture. He doesn’t sleep a wink, too aware of the man resting on the couch just down the hall. Peacefully unaware of what his presence does to Wangji, probably. Pants-less, most likely. Incredibly beautiful, definitely. 

Lan Wangji watches the clock on the bedside table change from 0:15 to 0:38 to 1:00. Giving up on sleeping, he sits upright on the bed. The faded yellow light from the living room glowing against the hallway walls, feels like an invitation; a siren song in the form of Christmas lights. Maybe he could just go check if his surprise guest got settled okay. Turn those lights off because surely that wouldn’t help Weiying sleep. 

The moment he realises the silly excuses he’s coming up with just to see the stranger again, he groans and falls back into the fluffy pillows. It’s his sisters’ house and he clearly has crashed on that couch before. He’s probably long asleep by now, not twisted up inside about the idea of waking up in three hours and never hearing that laugh again.

“I’ll be gone before you get up!” He’d said. Lan Wangji closes his eyes forcefully, but dreams don’t come. All he’s met with is a beautiful face, blurry around the edges, beaming at him. 

“Are you awake?” It’s a soft whisper, coming from the doorframe. He sits back upright and blinks a few times. Weiying is still standing there, crouched and squinting in the dark. 

“Mn.” He answers, getting up from the bed in one swift movement and walking over. 

Weiying is waving his hands in front of him, a hesitant smile. “No, no, no don’t get up.” He continues to whisper. 

“Already up.” Wangji replies, mimicking the softness he hears from Weiying. It feels like they’re sneaking around, the house quiet around them. 

“Well I…” the words linger as Weiying looks around the bedroom, as if he’s suddenly unsure about why he’s here. 

“Weiying?” Wangji starts, remembering the state of tipsiness in which he arrived. “Do you want some water?”

Weiying lets out a little laugh, but it sounds forced somehow. Wangji stands there, his hands slowly folding in front of him for a lack of anything to do with them. 

“No, actually I was wondering if you were okay.” He continues as he gestures towards Wangji. “I barged in on your holiday and word-vomited all over you and then crashed on the couch…”

He hesitates again, his hand reaching for the back of his neck to rub at it. The couch must not be comfortable, Wangji thinks as he sees the way Weiying massages his neck and lets his hand drop to his side again with a sigh. 

“I just wanted to come check if you were comfortable, my sister would have wanted that.” A gentle smile lights up his eyes at the mention of Yanli, and Wangji’s heart goes soft.

“Tea?” Wangji asks, thinking of the honey chamomile he brought with him just in case. It is supposed to soothe nerves and anxiety and be good for sleeping. Maybe it can make the ache in his neck subside, he thinks. He walks past Weiying into the hall and turns, lifting his eyebrows in question. 

“Ah, sure.” Weiying laughs nervously, his hand going back to the back of his neck. 

They walk together, sort of, their shoulders not quite brushing, to the living room. Wangji hadn’t seen any other room when he arrived where Weiying could sleep more comfortably. And if he offers to share his own bed, there is no way he is sleeping the rest of the night. 

He sets down some cups and turns on the kettle as Weiying sits down on one of the high chairs at the kitchen counter. This is something he can do, he thinks. Even as a little jittering courses through his veins at the intimate scene this moment paints. 

This early the house is quiet, the dark of the night not yet replaced by the light of dawn. The fairy lights from the living room still burning bright, joined by the yellow lights draped over the kitchen cabinets. He guesses Yanli likes the cosiness Christmas brings, her home lit up with soft twinkling instead of the bright designer lights Wangji has in his own home.

The kettle heating, Lan Wangji turns towards Weiying, still slumped over the kitchen counter filling the quiet with his babbling. Wangji can’t help but love the sound of his voice. He smiles to himself as he watches the man talk about people he doesn’t know, places he hasn’t been. 

“... he always manages to know all the right places for a good night out but then disappears somewhere with Jiangcheng. They think they’re so slick, but I’ve seen them sneak off. I have an eye for those things, you know! Nothing gets by me!” He boasts, “I am a good big brother though, I wouldn’t rat out my friends. Especially not to Nie Mingjue, quite possibly the most terrifying looking hunk of man I have ever seen.” 

His face leaning into his palm, his cheeks a little red, he giggles cheerfully. The fire from the living room is not completely out yet, still warming the room. He looks so at ease, so comfortable and bright, that Wangji can’t seem to look away.

“How about the great Lan Wangji? Who has the honor of being your best friend?” Wangji hears him ask. His brown eyes are big and wide, as if he’s asked to share a secret. As if there is any way Wangji would not tell this man everything he wants to know. 

“My brother.” He answers truthfully, Weiying smiles at him and nods. It’s a slower smile, his eyes wandering to the counter and his own hands. He interlocks his fingers as he speaks again and keeps his gaze low. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, “like Jiangcheng and I. It’s different, right?” He seems contemplative but Wangji doesn’t want to poke at wounds and simply nods. 

“Although we’re not… not real brothers.” Weiying continues softly. He winces as soon as he says it, his hand reaching for the back of his neck again. 

“Aah don’t let Jiejie know I said that,” hand still raised to his shoulder he laughs a shallow laugh. “I wouldn’t want you to think I’m some unfortunate orphan, Lan Wangji, I love my siblings of course. That’s not what I meant, I...” He licks his lips and lets his hand drop to the counter again, just as Wangji turns to him to pour his tea.

“Lan Zhan.” He says then, hoping to lift the little tension that seemed to have crawled along Weiying’s shoulder. Listening and pouring tea is all he can think of to put the other back at ease, his hands fidgeting with the kettle as he turns his back to put it back on the stove. 

“Lan Zhan?” he hears repeated from behind him and his heart nearly jumps out of his chest at the way his name seems to be sung in that sweet voice. 

“My birth name.” He says, his eyes focusing on the cup of tea in his hands in the hopes of distracting himself from the pounding in his ears. Turning towards Weiying again, their gazes lock. The fairylights above the fireplace behind Weiying seem to bathe him in a yellow halo and for a long second Wangji forgets how to breathe. 

“I love that! Lan Zhan, thanks for telling me. Now we are officially friends too.” He beams, unaware of the way his smile makes Wangji’s insides burn. If there was a way to bottle those up, he imagines he would overdose on them within a week. 

Borrowed time, he thinks, this is not his place or his life. He needs to get a grip on whatever carefree beating his heart has been doing. Sipping their tea, a silence falls and he hears a little humming as Weiying puts the cup back down. 

“This is amazing, you brought your own tea on holiday?” the other asks. This is the moment, Wangji thinks, the moment he reveals just how stuffy and boring his life is and Weiying runs for the hills. 

“Our family makes our own.” He says, not wanting to elaborate further. 

“Own tea? You guys are fancy! So what are you doing away from your fancy family on winter break, Lan Zhan?” he teases, the corner of his mouth tucked up and his eyes shining with mirth. Every time Wangji braces himself for the inevitable moment Weiying gets tired of him, the man seems to do the opposite of what he expects. What he’s used to. It keeps surprising him, making it harder and harder to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

He doesn’t want to bore him with his current predicament with his brother, so he opts for the vague outlines. “Work has been tough, so brother suggested I take a break.” 

“Aah, are you a workaholic? Then I should help you relax! Let’s do some fun things while you’re here, I’ll make up for crashing on your first night away from work.” He smiles, “We can go to the pub, or check out Huaisang’s new coffee shop, or maybe the aquarium!”

It all sounds tempting, Wangji muses, and a seedling of hope nestles in his heart at the prospect of dates with Weiying. Spending time with him, seeing his smile, hearing his voice,... Holding his hand, touching his skin, kissing his lips,...

Wangji shakes his head, willing himself to not stray into dangerous territory. They’ve known each other for little over an hour, why is he already so captivated? When he tries to sneak another look, Weiying is eyeing him from over his steaming cup of tea with a glint of mischief and answers Wangji’s question. 

“I’d like to.” Wangji says instead of doing something embarrassing like leaning over the countertop and kissing this ( almost ) complete stranger.

Weiying starts talking about the aquarium, where he’d been with his friends, and how the penguins are the most overrated attractions. How he’d love to show Lan Zhan the “Dory fishes” and how he’ll buy him a big plushy in the gift shop. Lan Wangji listens and enjoys the melodious sound of Weiying’s stories, time passing without either of them noticing. 

To his own surprise, Lan Wangji starts talking about music, how he hasn’t been able to write any pieces the last few months. The conversation seems to flow easy, the tapping of Weiying’s finger against his teacup in sync with the rapid beating of Wangji’s heart.

“I bet the change of scenery will help, Lan Zhan, you did well coming here! I’ll show you all the most beautiful places, you can count on me as your tour guide.” Another smile follows his statement, and Wangji can almost hear the start of a new song flitting in his ears as he watches Weiying bounce in his high chair and chatter away.

When the little clock on the mantle announces 2AM, Weiying stretches and gives Wangji another slight heart attack when it exposes a little of the tanned skin of his belly. Followed by a yawn, he hunches forward again towards the now cold tea. 

“We should sleep.” Wangji starts, looking anywhere but at Weiying. Putting the cups in the sink for tomorrow, he makes his way along the counter. 

“I drank your precious tea and talked your ear off even though I said I’d make it up to you!” Another light stretch, “Aah Lan Zhan, Lan Zhaaan, you’re too nice! You must be so tired and annoyed! I’ll make it up to you before you leave to go back to your fancy life.” He slides off the high chair he’s on, losing his balance when he hits the floor mid-yawn. 

For the second time since meeting, Wangji reaches out to steady him. Weiying seems to overcompensate out of reflex, however, and crashes his body into Wangjis’ gripping his shoulders. 

Eye to eye, Wangji feels the others’ breath on his lips. Weiying sighs and lets his hands slide down from Wangji’s shoulders to his elbows and rest there. Wangji can’t tell who is leaning in, but their faces get closer with every beat of his heart. He could kiss him, he thinks. He could kiss those smiling lips, just one breath away. 

Maybe Weiying would let him.

Then he remembers the reason Weiying is here, how he’d been drinking, how he isn’t himself. He’s been babbling to a stranger who can’t string more than two sentences together in response. It’s been Wangji’s luck that he hasn’t noticed the way he looks at Weiying, the way he drinks him in. Then he feels Weiying’s grip tighten and wonders maybe he hasn’t been quite as subtle as he thought.

“You’re stronger than you look, Lan Zhan.” Weiying whispers, his eyes locked onto Wangji’s lips. His voice is low and soft, and Wangji almost assumes he misheard. Then he feels a little pinch on his biceps, followed by a soundless laugh that does nothing to dispel the tension he feels building in his lower belly. If only he were stronger. If only Weiying wasn’t so mindblowing. 

“I can’t believe you’ve caught me twice now, yet you haven’t attempted to kiss me even once.” He smiles a devilish smile, startling Wangji. His eyes grow wide as Weiying curves his body into his. “You are a real gentleman. Or maybe I am losing my touch.” He melts into Wangji’s arms, their bodies fitting together. The warmth building in him shoots all the way to the tips of his ears, colouring them red. 

“Mmhm maybe not,” Weiying murmurs against his ear as he grinds into him. Startled at the contact, Wangji groans as he feels Weiying is as hard as he is. It’s low and involuntary, so unlike him, and it seems to only spurr Weiying on further.

“Definitely not.”

“Shameless.” He breathes, but there is no real derision in his tone and Weiying’s lips curve upwards as he leans back, a teasing glint in his eye. He inches closer, then backs off again, like he’s daring Wangji to kiss him first.

They shouldn’t, he knows. Weiying has been drinking and he should be the responsible one. He blinks a few times as he tries and fails to move his body away. Then he hears the other softly breathe his name, “Lan Zhan...” and his brain seems to float away.

In the blink of an eye his lips capture Weiyings’, soft and hesitant at first. His arms, first steadying Weiying, now pushing him closer as if moving on their own accord. Angling his head, licking at Weiying’s lips. The warmth he felt earlier now multiplies, setting him on fire. 

“Weiying.” he whispers back against those wonderful lips, moving to kiss the sharp line of his jaw and down his neck until he can hear a moan followed by a hand grasping at his hair. Savouring every taste, nipping and kissing wherever he can, he chases that feeling of weightlessness. Weiying’s hand in his hair the only thing keeping him grounded. Lan Wangji thinks he’d be happy if this is the only thing he does for the rest of his life.

They bump into a piece of furniture somewhere in the living room, a delicious giggle escapes from between Weiying’s lips and Wangji moves in immediately to try and drink it down. A hungry sound rumbling in his throat as he does so.

Making their way towards the hall without letting go of each other offers a challenge, but they manage. Before he can even catch his breath, they reach the bed and a little panic flitters around the edges of his desire. 

He wants this, almost too much, and Weiying is like a dream come to life. Should he be allowed this much?

“Lan Zhan?” Weiying asks. He’s afraid to answer, scared he won’t be good enough at this. He wants to make this moment last, he wants to capture every second without thinking about when it might end. But he wants to make Weiying feel good too, to show just how enraptured he is with him. Trying to calm his breathing, he swallows hard. 

“I’m… not good at this.” He confesses. Weiying raises an eyebrow and leans back a little.

“I’m pretty sure you’re already better than you think you are.” He says in a soft whisper when he leans in again, pressing his mouth on the sensitive spot under Wangji’s ear. “You have no idea…”

The bubble of anxiety diminishes as he watches Weiying take off his shirt and he finally gets the full view of his languid, tanned body. 

“You’ve been drinking, Weiying,” he tries, licking his lips unconsciously. Then Weiying wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him down onto the mattress. The king size bed dips under their weight as their lips find each other again, one knee in between Weiying’s legs and his hands bracing next to his head to keep from crushing him. 

“If I can still make paper bunnies,” Weiying says, his voice dipping as he tries to lift himself closer, his hands snaking closer around Wangji’s neck. “I’ll have no problem getting you off.” It’s crude, Lan Wangji thinks, but all he manages in response is a noncommittal ‘shameless’ before he can no longer hold back from kissing him again.

Weiying’s mouth is hurried against his and he grinds down in response, any leftover doubts flickering somewhere in the back of his mind but then forgotten. When daylight comes, the magic of the few hours they spent together will be broken. Maybe he can have this much. As he feels a hand stroke him through his pyjama bottoms, he lets himself be enveloped in the wonder that is Weiying.

Weiying, whose nimble fingers tease him. Whose mouth nips at his bottom lip. Whose uninhibited noises have Wangji’s hands trembling. He feels them everywhere, never wants to forget how good it feels to give himself over to this man.

The hand on his crotch moves slowly up and away and he moans at the loss. A muffled apology follows it, then a flutter of kisses across his cheek, jaw, neck. He feels Weiying biting down on his earlobe, grunts at the way it makes his body involuntarily press even closer. 

His hips seem to move on their own, chasing after the friction that makes his mind go hazy. He nips at Weiying’s lips, then slips his tongue into his open mouth to chase the taste of the honey tea in between them. When he feels Weiying lightly sucking on his tongue his mind swirls, his erection pressing painfully into Weiying’s hip bone. Goosebumps run along his spine where Weiying’s hand is clutching at him, a reminder that this is really happening.

Lifting himself up a little without letting go of his lips, Wangji’s hand searches for the edge of those dark jeans. Carefully touching the exposed skin along the way, he traces the little line of dark hair leading him where he wants to go. 

“Lan Zhan.” Weiying murmurs as he lets go of his mouth to gasp for breath. His eyes are hooded, his gaze locked onto the buttons of Wangji’s stuffy pyjama shirt. He’d forgone the soft stroking of his back to wrestle with Wangji’s buttons. 

“Oh my god is this not supposed to open?” he whines, but there’s a laugh beneath it. “Lan Zhaaaan I need to see what’s under these cute clouds!” he snickers as he gives up on one button and moves down to another.

Backing away to look at what the other is doing, Weiying follows his movement and sits upright. Wangji tries to help, but their eager fingers seem too unsteady to navigate any of the darn buttons. He manages to undo one of the tiny devil things and looks up when he hears Weiying’s happy giggle. Bending down he gives him a peck, because he can , then tugs the shirt over his head and throws it somewhere next to the bed. Weiying’s giggle transforms into a huff as he’s pressed back into the mattress. 

He tries to shift up the bed towards the headboard, Weiying wiggling on his elbows to follow, the movement bringing their erections together in an agonizing, wonderful way. Grumbling unintelligently Wangji finally slips his hand under the band of Weiying’s boxers, eliciting another glorious sound from Weiying. 

His lips find their way to his nipple as he continues to stroke Weiying clumsily and he gives the beautiful red nub an experimental lick. The fabrics of the boxers and tight jeans don’t give him much room to move, and he pushes them out of the way with his other hand before lowering himself back. 

“Nngh..” is all Weiying seems to manage as he buckles his hips, fucking into Wangji’s hand. He vaguely makes out his own name in between the heavy breaths, and his dick twitches at the thought of rendering Weiying incoherent from pleasure. He wants to make him utterly speechless, to reduce him to a puddle of want and need. To kiss him silly in bed and make him smile brightly out of it. The thought nestles somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might have been irreversibly ruined for anyone else. 

He moves to switch to the other nipple when he feels a tugging on his hair, making him look up. Weiying looks dazed and thoroughly kissed and his heart thumps at the sight. Alright, he decides, he has been irreversibly ruined for anyone else.

“I won’t last long like this, Lan Zhan.” he pants. 

“Mn.” he hums in response. 

Weiying groans at him, moving his hands from where they were clutching onto his hair to his shoulders. “Stubborn man.” Weakly tugging him up, Wangji ultimately obeys and presses his face into the curve of his neck. 

“Take yours out, Lan Zhan, please.” Weiying pleads.

Wangji feels hypnotized as he moves away to free himself from his pyjama bottoms. Weiying takes the brief respite to chuck off his own boxers, disregarding them somewhere next to the bed with the rest of their clothes. 

Now both fully naked, Wangji gawks at how striking Weiying looks, waiting for him. He lets himself take it in; the magnificent curve where Weiying’s neck meets his shoulder, a little red from where Wangji was kissing earlier, the little trail of moles on his chest, the v-shaped muscles on his pelvis, his hard-on wet with precum. 

He catches Weiying’s dark, shadowed gaze as he lets his eyes travel back up and feels a heat swell in his chest. Weiying wiggles a little, a hand coming up to cover himself as if he is only now becoming aware of Wangji’s eyes on him. Interlacing their fingers, Wangji stops him. 

“Weiying is beautiful.” He whispers in between shaky breaths.

“Oh my god, Lan Zhan, you can’t say that.” Weiying laughs, the little inkling of self consciousness gone as he grips Wangji’s hand tighter.

Wangji shrugs in dismissal. His muscles are relaxed for the first time in ages, his breathing a little ragged, his heart a mess. He feels truly present, his skin tingling from anticipation and want. Weiying beneath him whispering his name in hollowed breaths and curving into his touches. The wave of emotions leaves him feeling a little off-centered.

Then they’re kissing again, his hand finding its way back to where their erections are touching. He wraps it around them both, his own moan echoed as he smears Weiying’s wetness down the length of them. 

“Lan Zhan, your hand.” Weiying mumbles, reaching down and grabbing Wangji’s wrist. He reluctantly stops stroking and lets his hand be guided towards Weiying’s mouth. He breathes in sharply through his teeth as Weiying licks his palm achingly slowly. Once, twice. Weiying’s spit is warm and slick, his eyes never leaving Wangji’s as he wets his hand and then lazily sucks on his fingers. 

Looking away seems just as impossible as continuing to watch, his whole body quivering. His senses frayed, the world blurry except for Weiying and how his pink lips close over his index finger. Then he pushes Wangji’s hand back down, grinds up into it. 

“Fuck.” Wangji hears himself breathe out as he moves his hand up and down, the slickness of Weiying’s spit in his palm making the slide easier, dirtier, better. He lets his forehead rest on Weiying’s, his strength wavering as he feels his arousal reach its peak. 

“Yeah,” Weiying pants beneath him, his breath mingling with Wangji’s as their lips hover over each other. “You’re so good to me Lan Zhan, oh my god, so good.”

They share an openmouthed, sloppy kiss, only for a few moments, before he feels out of breath and out of his mind. Weiying is jerking his hips up, chasing after Wangji’s touch. His hands clutching, his body taut and beautiful. Wangji thumbs the tip of his cock, hears a strangled noise and more curses.

“Fuck, Lan Zhan,” Weiying moans, “I’m going to come.”

Wangji quickens his movements, licks salty sweat from Weiying’s neck as he feels him spill into his hand. Watches him throw his head into the pillow and melt back into a puddle as he relaxes. He strokes him through his orgasm and feels himself come right after, pressing open mouthed kisses on his collarbone.

He manages to angle himself away from the mess they’ve made before he plumps down next to Weiying on the tangled sheets. He feels dizzy, hazy, boneless. Better than he has ever felt. 

Releasing a slow breath he turns to look at Weiying, sees the other’s chest rise and fall quickly. 

“Holy shit.” Weiying says, voice raspy.

“Mn.” he sighs, not trusting his own voice to say much else.

“Holy shit !”

Wangji smiles, his body warm and sated. He takes in the tangle that used to be Weiying’s ponytail and can’t help himself from feeling smug about the way his mouth hangs open in post-orgasmic bliss. The ghost of a laugh still etched on his face. 

He can’t stop looking at Weiying, whose sparkling eyes are looking at the ceiling. The man is like sunshine on water; Wangji can only continue to watch and revel in being allowed to see.

“You,” Weiying says breathlessly, “are very good at this.” he turns towards him with a lazy grin on his face.

Feeling reality return slowly, he reaches for the tissue box on the nightstand. He cleans his own lower stomach, then reaches to clean Weiying’s, placing a trail of delicate kisses where there’s no more stickiness. 

He stretches to pull the covers over them, feels Weiying cuddle into his side. His breathing evens out, slows. He falls asleep within seconds with a lazy grin of his own.

3

The little birdsong of his phone comes too soon. His hand lifts to turn it off, but his body is being weighed down by something. Turning his head, he’s met with a very warm, very clingy Weiying, draped all over him. He smiles, kisses the top of the other’s messy hair and slowly moves to turn the alarm off before it wakes him. 

The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and normally this would be the time Wangji goes for his morning run, meditates and takes a shower. But maybe one day of not following his routine is allowed, since the last few hours he’s spent with Weiying haven’t been conventional either. 

Closing his eyes, he leans into him, the smell of Weiying soothing to his tired body. A feeling he hasn’t known, warming him from the inside. 

“Not yet, I’m too tired.” Weiying mumbles against his chest, and a chuckle escapes him. 

The noise seems to startle Weiying a little, as he opens one eye to look at Wangji. He slumps back down immediately, burying his face in the crook of Wangji’s neck. 

“So not a drunken dream.” he mumbles, the faint air of his breath tickling Wangji’s skin. 

“Goodmorning, Weiying.” Wangji says, kissing the top of his head again. This, he thinks, is how you’re supposed to wake up. He absentmindedly runs his fingers loosely up and down Weiying’s naked arm, closing his eyes. Not really back asleep yet but not awake either.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, revelling in each other's warmth, before he decides he’d like to make Weiying breakfast. Sunshine found its way into the room, breaking in between the clouds so he assumes it’s been a while. 

He slides out from under the blanket and Weiying’s grasp, grabbing a sweater from his open suitcase. Hearing a groan, he bends back over the bed to flutter a trail of kisses along Weiying’s naked arm. He reluctantly puts on pants and quietly closes the bedroom door behind him. Lingering with his hand on the doorknob, giddy like a teenager at the knowledge that he could go back in again and kiss those sighing lips. He moves away with the same smile he’s been wearing since last night.

Settling in the kitchen, Wangji starts making some more tea and toasting the bread Yanli had left for him. It’s not more than five minutes when he hears a tumbling down the hall. 

“Shit.” he hears, as he catches a glimpse of Weiying messily dressed and balancing on one foot, trying to put on his other sock. 

“I’m sorry Lan Zhan, I was… Shit!” He sounds breathless, his head dashing from side to side, looking around for his shoes. It springs a memory of last night into his subconscious, a breathy moan against his cheek as he sucked on his earlobe. 

This, however, doesn’t feel quite as good. This feels really, awfully, like the other hurriedly wants to get out of here. “Drunken dream” seems to echo in his head and hacks away at the warmth he felt just moments before.

“Weiying,” he begins, not knowing what he wants to say. Stay, probably. If not forever, at least for breakfast. But he doesn’t get the chance to articulate anything other than his name before Weiying is already grabbing his coat. 

“I didn’t mean to stay this long so I have to run, Lan Zhan, bye!” he says, already halfway outside, without making eye contact. The door closes behind him with a bang. 

The noise echoes in waves around Wangji as the silence swallows the space Weiying occupied for the last few hours. He looks down at the two cups on the counter in front of him, takes out the teabag from one of the cups and puts it back. Sits down on the high chair, slowly putting jam on the toast while it’s still warm. Fights the urge to go to the door and check where Weiying has run off to.

He doesn’t eat the toast. Instead, he turns towards the window and lets his tea go cold as he watches the snow fall quietly outside. 

4

The snow doesn’t stop falling, but it feels fitting somehow. The warmth of the fire is long gone, his tea poured out into the sink. Taking his coat and wrapping himself up in the gloves and scarf he’d gotten for Christmas last year, he decides to go for a walk. 

Cold hits his cheeks as he goes outside and heads for the meadow across from Yanli’s house. Turning to look behind him, the house is barely visible through the stubborn mist and flurry of snow. He aimlessly walks alongside the fenced meadow, turns into the little pathway besides a brook. He breathes out, his sigh a misty cloud as he looks up towards the darkening sky. 

It’s been only a few hours since the whirlwind that is Weiying left him sitting at the kitchen counter, a burst of black and red, a gust of laughter, an afterglow of warmth. The quiet he was once so used to seems to be pressing down on his ears, making it hard to think of anything but the ghost of Weiying’s lips on his skin. He closes his eyes to hone in on the memory, can almost hear the soft giggle as they struggled with his shirt’s buttons. Weiying cursing a little, then whining as Wangji ran his tongue along his jawline. But it’s followed by “Drunken dream” over and over and over. He rewinds and plays the scene countless times. 

Was his tone regretful? Had he moved away or sighed? Or had Wangji just made this way bigger than it was? He knows one night stands are part of meeting new people and mutual attraction. That sex can be just that for some people, a fleeting connection. But he has never been one of them. The crushing idea of Weiying not wanting like he had wanted, leaves him feeling anxious. He should have said how he felt, somehow, somewhere in the 1AM blur of conversation.

The path seems to take him towards the little town, the neon sign of the grocery store blinking at him through the haze of snow. Might as well, he thinks, maybe he’ll buy a souvenir for his brother as proof of his holiday.

He’s sifting through the magnets near the front when his hand halts midair.

“I can’t give him instant noodles!” a familiar scoff makes its way to Wangji’s ears and he feels his heart skip a beat. 

“Are you trying to tell me you’re going to cook something? For another human to eat?” Wangji slants his head towards the voices without turning, trying to sneak a peek at messy hair tied up with a red hair tie. He feels his body go soft as he sees Weiying frowning at the man next to him.

“Hey! A-Yuan never complains, he loves my cooking!” Weiying interjects, sounding slightly offended. The name leaves a bitter taste in Wangji’s mouth. 

Weiying cooks. For someone else. Who loves his cooking. 

All of a sudden his stomach seems to be coated with ice, an ugly emotion clinging at his throat as he turns towards the register with a random magnet grasped in his hand. 

“As if he’d ever tell you anything else.” the other man derides. 

Wangji sifts through the change in his pocket, the exact amount ready for when the magnet makes its way from the cashier back into his hand. “Quickly, quickly.” he chants in his head, his eyes shifting towards the two men now making their way to the register as well. 

He hands over the quarters, shakes his head as she asks him if he wants the receipt. He’s almost near the door when;

“Lan Zhan?” he falters but doesn’t dare to turn around just yet. 

“Lan Zhan, it is you!” Weiying repeats, “Jiangcheng, I’ll pay you back for these!” the man shouts as he skips towards where Wangji is still frozen in place.

Then he’s in front of him, beaming, and Wangji feels tension creeping into his shoulders. 

“Weiying.” he says in lieu of a greeting. A chilliness in his voice he carefully orchestrates to be there. If there is someone in Weiying’s life already, he must not want his siblings to know how careless Wangji had been with their drunken brother.

“I was just on my way to you!” Weiying smiles, seemingly oblivious to it. “Couldn’t wait for my cooking, huh?” he says, turning towards Jiangcheng and sticking out his tongue for emphasis. 

“Cooking?” Wangji asks, trying his best to sound aloof. 

“Yeah! A promise is a promise!” He gushes, eyes searching and finding nothing in Wangji’s detached gaze. His smile seems to freeze in place. “Did you not…” he starts to frown slowly, making it harder and harder for Wangji to pretend he doesn’t want to reach out and caress the beautiful mole under his downturned lips. 

“The note? Did you not want to…” Weiying bites the inside of his cheek gently, his eyes shooting from Wangji to the groceries his brother is putting away in bags. He swallows and plasters a closed mouthed smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ah! You must be sick of me already, sorry Lan Zhan!” he bumps his fist on his head in mock-understanding, rolling his eyes at his own silliness. “I’ll drop it off once I’m done cooking, just wanted you to try our lotus rib soup. You have tea, we have soup! But you can enjoy your vacation and-”

“Okay.” Wangji says, the word louder than he intended. He takes a step forward, breathes in as he searches for something better to say. The magnet is now digging into his closed fist. He shakes his head slightly, cursing at himself for not being better at basic human interaction. 

“Not sick of you.” he begins, clumsily. “I didn’t find a note, I assumed...” He watches his own feet as his heart hammers in his chest. How did he not see a note? Weiying’s shoulders arch down as he breathes out a laugh. Looking back up, Wangji’s resolve to run away from his feelings dithers out into nothingness. Who cares about A-Yuan, he thinks, as long as Weiying is looking at him.

“You must be Lan Wangji.” Jiangcheng joins them at the door, two bags of groceries on either side. Lifting them both, he pushes them unto his brother.

“Mn.” Wangji hums, his eyes not leaving Weiying.

“Alright then.” Jiangcheng grumbles, “Good luck.” Then he is pushing past them and cursing at the snow as he exits the store. Wangji isn’t sure who he was talking to exactly, but he could use all the luck in the world right now. 

“So,” Weiying starts, a wobbling smile on his lips as he balances the bags and opens the door with his elbow. “Very late lunch?”

5

Their ‘very late lunch’ looks suspiciously red, Wangji notices from his spot at the counter. But he can’t seem to care about what they eat, as long as it means Weiying intends to stay a little longer. 

His eyes travel along Weiying’s back to the little red spot under his ear, smiling at the memory of his lips putting it there. Of Weiying still wanting to be close, still granting him a place in his life albeit temporary. Then something is shoved under his nose. 

“Tadaaa!” Weiying exclaims, hands in the air, smile on his face, obviously proud of himself. “My sister made it for us when we had a bad day, it’s instant happiness!” Wangji stares openly at him, sure he’ll never tire of seeing Weiying happy.

He grabs his spoon and takes a sip, fire erupting in his mouth as soon as he does. Ignoring every impulse to spit it back out, he swallows it down and smiles.

“What do you think, Lan Zhan?” Eager eyes stare him down from across the table.

“Good.” he manages to say. 

Weiying is already shoving another bite into his own mouth, seemingly unaware of how incredibly spicy this meal is. Wangji doesn’t have the heart to tell him, so he eats. He eats the whole thing, trying not to think of what this will do to his body once it makes its way down. 

“Waah, Lan Zhan! You eat spicy meals well!” he smiles broadly, his mouth full. 

“Mn.” Wangji answers, his stomach cursing him. 

Grabbing the aloe vera drink he set out for them, he downs it in one go while Weiying takes their plates to the sink. If there was ever a time to ask if Ayuan eat spicy things well too, this is probably it. Then Weiying turns back around, telling him about the grocery store not having the right kind of chili oil, and he lets it go. Just a little longer, he begs himself, just let me have this a little longer. 

Weiying fills the space with his stories, the sound of his voice like music to Wangji’s ears. He feels warm and comfortable here, with him. The conversation flows, even with his stilted responses, and he is thankful yet again for the way Weiying seems to read him without needing more than what he can give. 

“Oh! My note!” Weiying yells, darting out of the room into the hall and out of sight. He returns with a little balled up tissue and a frown. 

“Okay, so…” he starts, pouting. “Maybe this wasn’t the best thing to use.” He looks rather defeated at the crumpled ball that was supposed to be a note. Cute , Wangji thinks again.

He stands up, taking the ball of tissue from his hand. A little smile tugs at his lips as he sees the hurried crawl on it. 

“I was in a hurry, I have excellent penmanship normally!” Weiying whines, trying to snatch the paper back. Wangji moves it quickly away, in the air and out of his reach. He does a little jump to try and catch it, and bumps into Wangji instead. 

“Mine now.” Wangji says, his voice low. The word echoes in his head, mine, and he cringes at himself for wanting to use it for something other than a hastily written note. He lowers his hand again, but Weiying has stopped trying to grab the paper and instead sighs dramatically. 

“Fiiine!” He sing-songs. Moving back to the kitchen and out of Wangji’s space.

Watching him go, he curls his hand into a fist and puts the note away in his back pocket. 

“I’ll clean up and get out of your hair, Lan Zhan!” he says. A clatter of the dishes, the faucet being turned on. A panic rising in Wangji’s chest. 

The ringing of a phone interrupts the beginning of his downwards spiral. Weiying grabs it from his pocket and answers it immediately. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He mouths ‘brother’ to Wangji as he moves away. “What do you mean?” He walks to the window, seems to look for something and sighs as he massages his forehead. “Damn it, alright. No, I’ll be fine. I’ll call Wenning, thanks.” 

Wangji moves towards where Weiying is standing and watches the snow fall. Then he realises it doesn’t fall far down, the outside a lot less brighter than it’s supposed to be just past noon. He grabs his own phone to check the weather app. 

Blizzard.

He hates himself for feeling a spark of joy at the news. Could this possibly mean…

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. I’m so sorry to do this.” He turns towards Weiying, sees the pained expression and forced smile. “I don’t mean to dine and dash but I think I have to go now before the weather gets even worse. It’s said to not stop snowing until tomorrow noon and the roads might not b-”

“You could stay.” He says, his own voice foreign. Has he always sounded so desperate? 

“Aah Lan Zhan,” Weiying breathes, his eyes blinking. “You are so kind, but I will be fine!” he says while turning around towards the dishes, drying his hands on the kitchen towel. His voice is still high-spirited but his hand moves to the back of his neck again. 

Wangji approaches without thinking, putting his hand atop Weiying's. His other hand finds the tense muscle on his other shoulder, kneads it a little. He hears a struggled sigh and Weiying’s hand slips out from under his to steady him against the counter. 

He doesn’t think about why Weiying is tense now. Doesn’t want to wonder why staying would make him curl up instead of bloom open. All he wants is to keep his hand on the little knot in his shoulder and smooth it down. 

“Weiying.” He hears himself say.

Weiying lets out a helpless groan, his chin falling against his own chest. “Lan zhan really is too kind, people might take advantage, you know. You can’t be like this.”

The tenseness of his shoulders seems to melt away a little and Wangji kisses the place where his fingers were, bringing his hands down and winding them around Weiying’s middle.

“Stay.” He says, knowing it’s not kindness as Weiying seems to think, but rather a selfish need he has no intention of suppressing.

They stay there, hugging and leaning on each other, the dishwater getting cold in the sink in front of them. Weiying’s head lifts and leans backwards onto Wangji’s chest, his whole body relaxing as he sways close. 

“Alright then, Lan Zhan.” he bounces a little in Wangji’s arms as he says it. “I will stay, no take-backs.”

6

Snow seems to be too soft a word for what has gradually grown into an actual storm around them. The wind picked up while they were drying the cleaned dishes, a high pitched howl rattling at the windows. A blurry darkness has fallen, the innocent looking white snow now enveloping the entire house and blocking its view. It makes it seem much later than it actually is, both of them sitting on the couch near the fire and huddling around their tea. 

The cold doesn’t reach them here though, the space between them somehow always nice and warm. Always safe.

“So, Lan Zhan,” Weiying props himself up a little. “Have you written any songs I might have heard of?” He sets his teacup down and grabs a pillow from between them to hug it to his chest. His face now resting on top of it, he looks small and cute. His easy smile squeezes Wangji’s heart.

“Do you know Heavenly Officials Blessing?” Wangji asks, trying to sip his tea before setting the cup down next to Weiying’s to let it cool down a bit. 

“Of course! Wenning is the biggest fan, read all those books and started the donghua as soon as it came out. Did you write a song for it?” his eyes sparkle and Wangji nods a yes at his question. 

“Waaah Lan Zhan,” he giggles, hugging the pillow tighter. “That’s so cool, could you play it for me some time?” 

“Mn.” Wangji says, happy to do whatever it is Weiying wants. 

“Did you bring your instrument with? What do you play?” 

“Guqin, some piano.” 

“Well, you probably didn’t drag a piano with you on holiday. I used to play the flute, when it was mandatory in highschool, but I haven’t picked it up in ages.” His eyes wander off as he leans back against the couch. “Maybe I’ll pick it up again.”

Pushing himself off the couch, he reaches for his phone on the coffee table right as Wangji stretches to take back his tea. He miscalculates the way Weiying moves and in his attempt to catch him, he knocks against Weiying’s tea making it spill. They both try to save the other from the hot water splashing and burning them, but Weiying is a second quicker. 

“Weiying!” Wangji shouts, as he watches the blistering hot water spatter over his arm.

He grabs his elbow, pulling him upright, and drags him into the kitchen. ‘Cold water’ is all he can think. He holds Weiying’s arm forcefully under the running tap, concentrating on the delicate skin under his fingers in case the redness doesn’t go down. 

“Lan Zhan, I’m fine! It’s just a bit of a burn.” Weiying struggles to get out of his grip, but Wangji doesn’t relent. 

“We have to run cold water over it.” He says, not taking his eye off Weiying’s arm. Maybe if he looks at it angrily enough, the blisters won’t dare to appear.

“You’re so serious Lan Zhan, I’ve had worse than this. Don’t worry!” He says, before sighing and leaning his hip against the sink in defeat.

Wangji feels irrationally angry at himself for not being fast enough. At the way Weiying seems to disregard himself, as if he didn’t just take the pain in Wangji’s stead. He bites back the words, afraid they’d be too much. Instead he squeezes Weiying’s arm a little harder, testing to see if he really isn’t feeling any pain. 

“Aah-ha!” Weiying yells out, before he turns it into a hollowed laugh. Wangji purses his lips, judging him.

“Lan Zhan, you’re so cruel! Save me some face, will you!” 

“No hiding. Take care if you’re hurt.” he says, before turning off the water and reaching for a clean towel to wrap his arm up.

“Wow, Lan Zhan, really. You’re such a gentleman. I usually say ‘Eat the rich’, but I think I’ll save you when we finally take down the 1 percent.” Weiying huffs, a smile still woven into the words. “Whoever gets to have you forever is going to be so lucky!” 

“Ridiculous.” Wangji sulks.

“Their very own tea, being the first to get to hear your songs,” Weiying continues, seemingly ignoring Wangji’s pouting as he’s wrapping up his arm. “First aid, seeing you enjoy their spicy soup, really nice kisses,... The list goes on and on!”

Wangji sighs as he looks up from his handiwork on Weiying’s arm. He shakes his head, the teasing making his ears burn again. Nice kisses, he’d said. Really nice kisses. He wants to prove him right. 

He leans in, hears Weiying’s sharp intake of breath and stops himself. Unsure, he moves back again.

“So Lan Zhan,” Weiying asks, “When do you leave?”

It’s a reminder he doesn’t need, the way this is temporary bliss. A parting from reality, so far from what he’s built yet more at home than he’s ever been. 

“Two more days.” He answers, his hands suddenly firm on Weiying’s hips. Pressing into the fabric of his jeans and sliding underneath his t-shirt to find skin to dig his fingers into.

“Hopefully by then the blizzard will have passed, huh! Are you flying?” 

Wangji isn’t sure he wants to know why Weiying seems adamant to talk about him leaving when he’s still here. He pushes down an ugly roaring of jealousy for the person who gets to be with Weiying every day as it claws at his heart.

“Yes, why?” he implores, aching for this to be over but releasing Weiying from his grasp. His hands feel cold and stiff as they fall at his sides. 

“If you need a ride to the airport I’ll ask Jiangcheng to let me borrow his fancy car.” Weiying untangles the towel from his arm again, flexes his hand to test the slightly burned skin. His fingers gently move past Wangji’s shoulders, into his hair. Pulling him closer. “I will make sure your trip here won’t be ruined completely. His car will be nicer than a stinky taxi!”

Lan Wangji doesn’t say he has a private car service already booked, doesn’t say how this has already been the best trip he’s ever had. He doesn’t even ask why it’s so important to Weiying that his departure is made better.

“I’m not leaving yet.” Is all he says, his gaze soft. When Weiying smiles, his hands still playing with Wangji’s hair, Wangji dares to let his hands return to his hips. His touch softer, scared to push too hard and scare him again. 

“Mmhm, Lan Zhan, so you are. The blizzard made sure of that.” He sighs, “Let me check if I’m really not imagining you.” Weiying smiles, kissing him sloppily as he falls into his embrace. 

Pressing their lips together, he forgets to wonder if he should have asked about ‘a-yuan’, or stop this from happening all together.

He can’t seem to care much anymore now, his body and hands and heart wanting to be as near to Weiying as possible. The kisses he gives are like a hazy, glowing dream and the realest thing Wangji has ever felt all at once. 

They find themselves on the couch without really remembering how they got there. Wangji’s hands have moved up to caress Weiying’s back underneath his shirt, his fingernails slowly marking the warm skin there. 

“Lan Zhan.” Weiying moans as he snuggles close and nips at his neck. “You are so addicting.” 

They stay like that for a while, their breaths uneven and hands softly exploring. Weiying fingers like a ghost on his skin, light as a feather, as he draws little circles on Wangji’s back. Their foreheads touching, Wangji dips lower every now and then to capture Weiying’s lips in his. 

He feels like a teenager, the smell and feel of Weiying all around him, clouding his brain. His body seems to remember what makes the other curl and twist, his hands trembling but his heart sure.

He has never been heedless, has always fallen in line with what’s expected from him. Has never felt the need to possess what he can’t have, either. Finding a way to express himself through his music had been his salvation. Every note he drew on the page a way to express the unspoken. Through music he feels as if he can speak without fear of actually being heard, something he can’t blame anyone but his own anxious heart for.  

Feeling understood, and cherished, even in the small, casual way Weiying does has made him want beyond imagination. And somehow Weiying makes it feel not quite as reckless as it probably should. On the edge of a cliff, but with a steady hand clasped in his.

From the moment Weiying melted into him, he knew his decision had been made. He was never one for grey areas, for maybes or halfways. Once he made a choice, once he gave his heart, he didn't look back. 

His name comes from Weiying’s slightly open lips like a prayer and it brings him back to the here and now. He kisses it away until his chest stops aching. It’s going to hurt like hell when he hears it for the last time, but as long as he can savor this warm feeling of belonging now, he will.

7

It takes some stumbling but they kiss their way to the bed eventually, most of their clothes scattered along the way. The giddy feeling doesn’t subside, every handful of Weiying another wonder to edge into his mind. Weiying’s low murmur of how good he feels fuel to a fire that’s already too big to contain. 

He feels himself becoming hard as the other’s lips eagerly mark his neck. One hand pulling Wangji into him, another softly brushing past their joined hips and cupping Wanji through his boxers. A hot flash shoots through him at the possessiveness of the gesture. His own hand slides under Weiying, between the mattress and the soft fabric of his underwear. He squeezes his ass cheek, then dips his finger beneath the elastic to feel skin.

“Lan Zhan, aah, I’m- yes.” Wangji kisses him again, then trails wet kisses down his neck and collarbone. Lingers on his nipples while pushing Weiying’s boxers down and off him. He trails his way down with intent, licking and sucking, until he reaches Weiying’s cock and nuzzles his nose into his pubic hair, breathing in this distinct smell of sex and Weiying. 

A whine from above, Weiying’s hand softly on his head. He kisses the tip of his cock, then licks the length of it before swallowing it down. The weight of it perfect on his tongue, his own cock leaking from how intimate this is. Bobbing his head a few times, he sucks all the way down and up, releasing Weiying with a wet pop.

He angles Weiying’s knees up on his shoulders, before kissing lower, and lower still. When he reaches Weiying’s beautiful pink hole, he gives it a soft kiss before licking it. The noises Weiying is making has him desperately on the edge himself, so he starts slicking up his finger with the saliva that dripped down his chin, mixed with Weiying’s precum from sucking him, and carefully feels around the rim before pushing his finger inside.

Angling his finger upwards, looking for the spot that will make Weiying sing, he continues to soothe the rim with his tongue. 

“Nngh” Weiying’s back arches and his hands shoot up to grasp at the pillow under his head. 

Lan Wangji breathes in the skin on his thigh, adds another finger to make Weiying twist and turn beneath him. 

“Now, Lan- Lan Zhan. Are you- ?” He looks down, his eyes growing wide as he sees Lan Wangji’s arousal still painfully hard. 

“Mn.” Wangji hums, before resuming his exploration of Weiying’s soft skin. He pulls back his fingers and gives the soft opening a last, tentative kiss.

“Please,” Weiying whines, his hands grabbing the pillow tighter. 

Wangji disappears to find a little bottle of lube, dribbles some of it on both of them.

He hears a dazed giggle from Weiying; “Please tell me that’s yours, Lan Zhan.” as Wangji finds a condom and starts sliding it over his length.

“I don’t want to lie to Weiying,” he smirks as he angles himself at Weiying’s entrance. He pushes a little, then waits. 

“Oh, god..” Weiying whines, a laugh on his face. “My brain is fuzzy enough that I can’t think of why there are condoms here.”

Wangji lets his hands roam over the gentle curve of Weiyings hips, the lube still on his fingers making his skin glisten.

“Mh, good.” Wangji smiles, trying to be careful with his movements to not hurt, or worse, come too soon. The tightness of Weiying is sure to overwhelm.

Weiying seems unable to handle the slow way in which he tries to adjust himself though, his heels suddenly digging into his lower back, pushing him closer.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He utters, his voice low and careful. His hands now caging Weiying in and straining to keep himself from falling and crushing him.  

“Lan Zhan,you really have no idea, I want- Please. Please, just…” Weiying whimpers, his legs pushing at Wangji’s waist while his hands dig into Lan Wangji’s upper thighs. He feels himself enter him, without even moving much himself, and the tightness sends a shiver of pleasure through him. 

Weiying trembles under him, a choked oh sent into the air as he squirms to chase the pleasure coursing through him. 

Then Wangji closes the remaining gap between them completely with a groan, Weiying hot against him. Pushing up, Weiying grabs onto him to kiss him breathless. When their lips part, he bites his own lip and closes his eyes as Lan Wangji starts moving slowly.

He wants this, almost so much it hurts. He wants to make him feel good, see him open and vulnerable underneath him. To make his back arch as he licks his nipples and grinds their hips together. 

But it’s worse than that, he knows. He wants to hold his hand in public and call him his boyfriend. He wants to see Weiying’s dazed eyes blink awake in the morning. To see him smile at a text from his sister, or talk about how the current federal tax policies only crush the middleman and not the richest 1 percenters. Kiss the top of his head and make him breakfast while he continues to snooze his alarm. 

He’s fucked .

The thought of someone else getting to do that makes him want to mark his skin. Leave lovebites on his collarbone, suck a hickey right under his ear. He wants so much he starts speeding up, slamming into Weiying with wild abandon. 

“Lan Zhan, ah that’s so good,” Weiying whines. “You’re nngh… So good”

With his senses already frayed, the way Weiying is whimpering at his every touch, murmuring his name breathlessly and crying out an “aah” every time Wangji bottoms out, is enough to push him over the edge. He rides out his own orgasm as his hand wraps over Weiying’s arousal. Still sleek from the lube, the slide is easy. He enjoys the view of Weiying unraveling as he steadily grips and strokes, his thumb teasing everytime his hand reaches the top. 

His hand is in sync with his hips as they lazily cause friction where they’re both already oversensitive. He’s gently drawing circles on Weiying’s chest with his free hand, pausing every now and then to flick one of his niples. Mouth open and head pushing into the cushions, Weiying chokes on his own breath as he comes. 

Their ragged breathing slows and evens out before Wangji moves away to look for something to clean up. When he comes back into the room, Weiying is already softly sighing and he wipes him down with a damp towel before snuggling up against him. He breathes in the smell of Weiying and rejoices in the fact that he gets to hold him for a little longer this time. 

As he drifts into a dreamless sleep, he snuggles as close as he can. He doesn’t feel the soft kiss on his shoulder as the other turns and lets himself be wrapped up in his arms. He doesn’t hear the whispered apology, or the shaky breath that follows it, but falls into dreams about a retreating back and silent cries.

8

The following morning, at the sound of his alarm, his arms close around nothing. The tangled sheets next to him cold already. The wind is still rattling the windows, an echo of a sad dream he’s too awake to remember in the back of his mind. He gets up and puts on the first thing he finds, eager to get up and find the warmth he craves.

Making his way into the living room, he’s met with sounds of pots and pans. The noises seem to come from the kitchen and he makes his way through the room towards them. Picking up the black boots Weiying chucked off and threw next to the couch yesterday, he sets them next to his white sneakers at the door. 

“Weiying.” He announces himself, taken aback by the blur of motion and chaos he walks into. 

“Lan Zhan!” The other laughs without turning, “You really do wake up at seven!”

“Mh.” Wangji answers, not sure what’s expected of him after taking in the room. Weiying seems to be making breakfast although it smells a little burned and the clutter on the counter gives no indication of what kind of breakfast would need at least 4 different kinds of pans.

“Weiying...?” Weiying turns around as he lets his question linger. The other seems stumped at seeing him, and they stand there for a moment before his carefree smile returns.

“Breakfast!” Weiying exclaims joyfully, a spatula in one hand and a grin on his face. Wangji tries to hide a smile as Weiying turns back to the stove. 

He busies himself with setting the kitchen table with utensils, trying to sneak a peek over the other man’s shoulders to get an indication of what to expect. He sees eggshells on the counter, what he assumes is supposed to be french toast, and smiles softly to himself again. The hum of Weiying’s voice fills the space, and Wangji listens as he sets the table and turns towards the coffee machine. 

“...But then he’s always been quite the clever one. You should totally hang out with us if you ever...” he takes a breath, bites his lip and laughs away whatever thought he had. 

“Anyway, Huaisang would probably have told me to shut up by now but since you haven’t, I am going to assume you are absolutely enthralled by the small town lives we live and tell you all about them!”

Weiying continues to fill the silence with his small talk as Wangji tries to figure out why the coffee machine isn’t turning on. 

He presses the buttons several times, opens the compartment for the coffee beans, closes it, sighs. He’s nearly giving up when a warmth envelops him from behind. 

“Oh, it must not be plugged in right.” he feels Weiying’s breath on his neck and he leans into him to try and catch the plug stuck behind another appliance. He struggles a little, his body so close that Wangji is starting to hear static in his ears from the blood rushing through. 

He finally manages to plug the appliance in and lingers, a teasing smile on his lips that Wangji can feel but not see. He means to turn in his arms, but Weiying grips his hips tightly to keep him in place. 

Weiying’s hands smooth down the fabric from his pecs to his lower belly, pressing hard on his chest and stomach, pushing him against his body and confining Wangji in between him and the counter. The sigh that escapes Weiyings’ lips trails goosebumps over Wangji’s neck.  Smoothing over the shirt he’s wearing and dipping lower than appropriate in a kitchen. 

He gasps soundlessly, turns his head to see Weiying’ frowning and biting his lower lip, and swallows down a curse before turning back again. His eyes zeroing in on the blinking light of the coffeemaker in the hopes of composing himself.

“You’re wearing my shirt, Lan Zhan.” Weiying hums low and soft in his ear. Looking down at the black shirt, Wangji recognises the red markings and mh’s in response. 

Then his hands disappear just as sudden as they had appeared, and Wangji stumbles backwards at the loss. Turning, he sees Weiying already back in front of the stove and chattering away. 

“I texted Wenning, the one I work with and who loves anything related to Heavenly Officials Blessing. I told him about me knowing the grand Lan Wangji who composed the soundtrack of his favourite donghua but it’s way too early for normal humans.” He chuckles, grabbing his phone as it chimes in contrast to his teasing statement.

Wangji grabs his sweater from the high chairs, as Weiying reads the new message and lets another piece of french toast burn.

“Jiangcheng finally texted me some good news. It’s still early, but he thinks it will clear up enough so I might be able to leave around lunchtime.” He says, unaware of the dread sticking to Wangji’s skin at the mention of parting without a way to see each other again. 

He has no right to ask him to stay, of course. In his mind he knows that, but every other part of him aches to ask anyway. He dips his chin to his own chest, suddenly aware of the way Weiying’s smell seems woven into the fabric of the shirt he absentmindedly threw on.

9

They eat Weiying’s french toast, play a board game, Weiying tells stories, Wangji plays him a song he’s written but doesn’t name. Time passes, their little bubble detached from the outside world, a universe on its own. Wangji cooks lunch this time, and says nothing as Weiying dumps half a bottle of chili sauce on it. 

As they settle next to each other on the couch, Weiying leans into him and he almost purrs. He wants to curl up beside him and stay there forever. Weiying’s phone has been buzzing for the last few hours with updates from his brother, a flicker of something sadder always follows the messages and Wangji decides he doesn’t like Jiangcheng very much.

“He has to include at least one insult per helpful message. That’s just how younger brothers are Lan Zhan!” Weiying exclaims, gesturing wildly. Wangji, as a younger brother himself, isn’t convinced. 

“I bet you don’t believe me because you’re one of those angel-like little brothers very few older siblings get.” Weiying teases. “Have you never acted up, ever? Not even a little?” He pokes at Wangji, but doesn’t wait for an answer.

Wangji smiles, he wouldn’t call himself angel-like, but compared to Jiangcheng he might be closer to that than he thought. When he looks up, Weiying is staring at him with a strange look in his eyes. 

“You smiled.” He marvels. 

A faraway honking of a car has Weiying shooting upright, untangling himself from the warm blanket covering both of them. He moves towards the front door, Wangji following him with his gaze, eyebrows raised in question. 

The honking continues, so Weiying puts on his black boots and thick coat. “I’ll check if it's my brother!” he says as he wraps himself up. 

It happens so fast, Wangji is still a little lost when the cold of the outside wind chases away the warmth that had been enveloping them. He hears a voice join Weiying’s as footsteps get closer. 

“Be right there!” then Weiying is zooming past him. He feels heavy, unable to move, an inkling of fear itching closer. Jiangcheng moves into the living room, the permanent scowl he seems to wear now directed at him. Wangji angles his head, raises one eyebrow, and silently dares him to say something. Neither of them do.

When Weiying returns to the couch, he’s wearing more layers. 

“Lan Zhan, good news! The snow stopped enough so Jiangcheng came to pick me up! I uhm...” he sways from left to right, and Wangji’s heart stops. 

Looking down, he reluctantly takes off his sweater and then Weiying’s shirt. He pulls his own sweater back over his head and folds the shirt neatly before handing it to him. He tries to let their fingers brush as it switches owners, but the other has already moved away again. 

“Thanks, you didn’t have to return it right away, you’re so proper. I’ll close the door quickly, don’t catch a cold!” he doesn’t move quite yet, the shirt held tightly in his fist. He seems to want to say something, but then Jiangcheng breaks the bubble they’d managed to build. 

“Ready then?” the man asks, and Wangji gives him a dirty look in exasperation. 

“I’m leaving in the morning,” he says as he turns back to look at Weiying, who nods. 

“I’ll do my best to come and send you off in style.” Weiying answers, but Wangji has an inkling he won’t be here. 

It’s not how he thought their goodbye would be at all. He had imagined holding hands until they had no choice but to part, getting pulled apart by airport staff. Something lovers do according to those terrible romcoms Xichen loves. Like waking up tomorrow in a house filled with noise. At least one more kiss. Maybe a chance to ask him to come with him, however unlikely that was.

Now he can only watch Weiying sway hesitantly in place, his departure as surreal as his arrival. For the second time. 

His body weighed down, his focus solely on Weiying. Jiangcheng bows his head shortly in goodbye and goes outside. But Weiying still lingers, even though there are no words Wangji can come up with that would convey just how much he wants him to stay.

“Weiying,” he starts, ready to take a leap of faith and ask him to stay, or even go back with him. 

“Thank you,” Weiying says, and Wangji is sure he can hear his own heart break. “And I’m sorry.”

He concentrates on his own breathing, willing the pain to stop scratching at his throat and making it hard to speak. The door closes quietly this time, and somehow that’s so much worse.

When night falls, it doesn’t seem much darker than the day had been. Wangji moves on autopilot to collect his things, make his travel bag and go to bed. It’s the first time in 2 days he falls asleep in time. As he wraps his arms around a pillow, he squeezes as tightly as he can and tries not to think of what he’s going to leave behind.

10

Gusu has always been steady ground for Lan Wangji. Even the exit on the freeway feels a little like home already, the familiar name on the signs a welcome message. The air is lighter here, quieter. Now though, fresh with new feelings and numb from trying to not let them take over, it feels deafening.

He spends the first few days after his return composing. Pouring everything, every twitch and scar of his heart, into a song. How he yearns, how he begs for escape from remembering. Every word he cannot speak out loud, he lets them dance on the empty stave until he can no longer hear the echo of Weiying’s laugh. 

His brother visits, his uncle disapproves, and still he writes. What starts as too many feelings morphs into an empty numbness after a while. His minds' way of saving him, maybe. Concentrating on the music seems to help, at least for a while.

He sent a few text messages to Jiang Yanli, asking how her trip had been and very subtly inquiring after her brothers, multiple, in hopes of hearing about Weiying. She had expertly ignored his question about her siblings and praised his home. It’s clear to Wangji she was not one to be tricked into telling him how he has been doing. 

This goes on, him trying and failing to find out how Weiying is doing and her talking about the blizzard ruining her plans to go to the aquarium. After a few short messages she seems to warm up to him and begins to text just as vibrant and talkative as Weiying, and Wangji enjoys the idea of still being connected somehow. He answers faithfully, the small talk always short and pleasant. 

Jiang Yanli: AWESOME 🤩 , I’m happy ur brother liked the magnet! ☺️☺️ Which one did you get?? 🤓 It’s sad u only got to visit the grocery store tho, Nie Huaisang opened a lil café that I’m sure u would have LOVED. It’s very ~aesthetically~ pleasing, AND he has very good tea. 😌😌😌 ((also to drink but also tea 😜))

 

Lan Wangji: I am sure I would have, but I do not regret not having visited it. I bought the magnet with the name of the town, as well as a few of the main attractions pictured. 

 

Jiang Yanli: Did it have the aquarium?? 🐟 🐠🐳🐬🦈🐋🐡 Because it’s part of the zoo they always forget, 😒😒but the aquarium is by far the Best Thing™  at the zoo. What’s ur fave animal? Do u have a zoo where u live?? ☺️

 

Lan Wangji: It did not include the aquarium, as far as I remember. Your brother mentioned the aquarium, have you visited with him many times? I like rabbits. There is a zoo in the city, a 20 minute drive from our home. 

 

Jiang Yanli: Bunniessss! 🥰🥰🥰🥰How cute! But u can have those as a pet 🐰, you don’t have to go to the zoo for that. 😜Have you been to the zoo there?☺️

 

Lan Wangji: I would like to have a rabbit as a pet. Do you and your brothers have a pet? I have yet to visit the zoo here. 

It’s the second week, when she answers his last text message with a phone call instead. Answering it, he feels his heart trip over itself when he hears a small, hesitant voice. 

“Gege?” 

It seems to be a child, but as far as he can remember, Yanli had been single and childless. He takes the phone away from his ear, checks the caller id. 

“This is Lan Wangji.” he says, wondering if the child in question had any idea what he was doing. “Does miss Jiang Yanli know you have her phone?”

The child snickers, making him frown. Is he being laughed at? 

“Gege! Baba said he can’t call so I pressed the button for him!” 

Baba? A scuffle interrupts his attempt to ask who this childs' baba is, then a firm beeping on the other end. 

He stares at the phone in his hand, sees it light up again.

“Hello?” He asks, his voice tentative.

“Lan Wangji, hi. This is Jiang Yanli.” The sweet voice he hears somewhat sharper than he remembered from their phone call about the house switch. None of the liveliness he came to expect from her text messages shining through.

“I think you left something at my house, would you be in the neighborhood anytime soon to pick it up?” He frowns, pretty sure there was no way he had left something behind. And if he did, she had not mentioned it in any of her previous messages.

“I left something?” He inquires gently.

“Yes, I’m sure you know and think it precious enough to have it back.” She says, emphasizing precious and confusing him even more.

“I don’t remember leaving anything important,” he starts, but a pitched cough on the other end has him faltering. “But, of course. I will be traveling for work in a week and will gladly pick it up.”

“Great. I will text you Jiangcheng’s number. He will pick you up at the airport.” Her voice goes sweeter again, and Wangji is sure this is some type of witchcraft as he feels himself nod. “Let’s not leave things behind again, shall we? See you soon, mister Lan.”

He doesn’t get the chance to ask more questions, but finds he doesn’t need to. He tells his brother, who starts to ask about shipping whatever he left behind only to backtrack quickly.

He signs off on the flight the next day, saying he can expense it, a twinkling in his eyes Wangji decidedly ignores. When he drops him at the airport the next week he lets a warm hand rest on Wangji’s shoulders, squeezes it gently in encouragement, before waving him off. 

11

The house looks different now that there is no blizzard hiding it from sight. The windows are lit up when he arrives, smoke coming from the fireplace chimney.

He thanked the grumpy voice on the phone for the offer, but that he would rather stay at the little inn in town then go directly to the house. He didn’t want to say it felt too familiar to drive straight to the place he’d left in a blur, thinking he would never see it again. Standing in front of it now, he’s glad he gave himself the little time to settle his nerves.

Walking up to the door, he hears a scuffle on the other side of it and gets an eerie feeling of deja-vu. He stills in front of it, takes a deep breath and tries to prepare himself for what’s to come.

When the door swings open, there is nobody on the other side of it. Then he feels a gripping weight on his left leg and looks down in wonder. Big, sparkling brown eyes are staring up at him. 

“A-Yuan!” Weiying hurries outside, stopping in his tracks in front of Wangji and gaping at him. 

This is A-Yuan? Wangji furrows his brows, looking from the little boy back to Weiying. The latter looks tired, he notices. His eyes catch a glimpse of the black shirt he’s wearing underneath his red cardigan and he recognises it immediately as the one he’d had to take off and give back a few weeks ago. A familiar ache grows inside him at the memory.

“A-Yuan?” Wangji questions. 

“That’s me, Gege!” The boy exclaims brightly. Wangji can’t help but soften at the sight of him, beaming up and swaying at his leg.

“Ah, yes.” Weiying nervously laughs, “this is my son, A-Yuan, currently clutching your leg. He does that when he likes someone.” He must have noticed Wangji’s eyes on his shirt, because his arms fold his cardigan over his chest and hide it from view.

Before he has time to catch his breath at the sudden incoming information of little A-Yuan being Weiying’s son, and what that might mean, they are joined at the door by his sister. 

“Welcome, Lan Wangji.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “How about some tea?”

As he nods, the little boy lets go of his leg and sprints inside to follow Yanli inside. Weiying takes a hollow breath and lets out a sigh, his hands still clutching his cardigan tight.

“I meant to tell you,” he starts, but Lan Wangji raises a hand, stopping him.

“I understand.” he doesn’t, but he assumes whatever needs to be said shouldn’t be said here, in front of his sisters house with the child within hearing distance. 

He moves past Weiying, bows his head a little in acknowledgment when he passes Jiangcheng to follow Yanli into the kitchen. 

Looking around, it seems there is nobody else inside and he breathes a relieved sigh. He isn't sure he could have dealt with meeting Weiying’s significant other in his current state.

Yanli has her back turned towards him, talking animated with the little boy. He hovers near the kitchen counter, fiddles with the buttons of his coat. 

“Oooh no!” she huffs loudly, now moving towards Wangji. “It seems I am all out of tea.” 

Jiangcheng has joined them in the kitchen and scoffs. “Seriously.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, giving Wangji an angry once-over. 

Ignoring it, his sister hurries A-Yuan and Jiangcheng out of the kitchen just as Weiying makes his way inside. “We’ll go and get some from the grocery store, won’t we A-Yuan! Ready for an adventure?”

“Yes!” The boy shouts, jumping up and down. “Adventure!” 

Yanli smiles down at him, struggling to get his coat on as he keeps excitedly fussing around. 

“Gege too?” He wonders, gaping at Wangji. 

“I don’t need-” He starts, ready to politely refuse the tea if there is none available.

“No,” Yanli answers as if he never said anything. “This gege needs to stay here and fix what he broke first. Then he gets tea.” Her voice is melodious yet firm, and Wangji marvels again at how well she can walk the fine line between sweet and stern. 

Then her words land, and he looks over at Weiying in confusion. Did they break something when they were…

He finds no answer there, because Weiying looks away as soon as Wangji tries to catch his eye. He moves towards his sister, pokes at her side as she continues to struggle getting A-Yuan ready to go out. 

“Jiejie, that’s not…” She gives him a grounding look that shuts him up and turns towards Jiangcheng. 

“You’ll drive.” She tells him, then; "See you both soon!” 

And they’re alone again.

“Ha!” Weiying huffs, “That’s my big sister for you.” He still hasn’t looked at Wangji since they’ve gotten inside. 

“Weiying, what is going on?” Wangji asks softly, anxious.

“Funny actually, Lan Zhan.” He waves his hands around as he sighs and sits down on one of the high chairs, his back to Wangji. “My sister has it in her head that I needed to clear the air between us, or something.” 

It is made to look nonchalant, but the tenseness of his movements give him away. Wangji can tell he feels uncomfortable talking about this and he wonders briefly if maybe Weiying has been feeling guilty about what passed between them, if A-Yuan’s other guardian is in the picture. He swallows down the lump in his throat and straightens his back. 

“Weiying.” He starts, curling his hands into fists at his side. “If what happened between us has made things difficult for you, I assure you I have not expected more from you than what you can give me,” he stutters and tries to backtrack. “What you have given me.”

He nearly chokes on the words, so blatantly a lie. As if he hasn’t been writing every song into a wish, into a plea for Weiying to love him. 

“Oh.” His voice is a murmur, his back now a little slumped over the countertop. Wangji fights the urge to go over and lay a hand on his shoulder. 

He reaches out to give into the pull of touching him anyway, but Weiying turns around and off the high chair in a quick twirl. “That’s great news!”

His heart drops. Weiying, now actually smiling at him, happily walks over and slaps his shoulder. Like they’re buddies after a soccer game. Weiying winks and walks past him to the other room, but Wangji’s eyes don’t dare to follow. Instead, they zero in on the spot where Weiying’s casual touch lingers and he grinds his teeth together as he takes a seat and waits for the others to come back. 

With his back straight and his eyes strained forward, he doesn’t notice the way Weiying hovers behind him, before leaving the room with a weary sigh.

12

Yanli seems to know what went down when she finally returns with the other two in tow. A-Yuan is talking excitedly about tea and chattering away about the wonders of the grocery store as she walks over with the kettle. She lays a hand on his arm, gives him a knowing look and a soft smile, and silently pours him his tea. 

Weiying joins them shortly after, explaining that he went to get some work done in the other room. That earns him a scowl from his brother, which he answers by swinging his arm around his shoulder and pulling him close. “Oh hush Jiangcheng, Wenning is barely holding on without me!”

“How about you go into work then, maybe change your shir-mmhmhm” the rest of his speech is muffled as Weiying slaps his hand in front of his mouth. Wangji is once again baffled by their interactions and how different it is from how he is with his own brother. 

Weiying takes his tea standing, ignoring the empty seat next to Wangji, leaning into the counter with his hip and listening to his son. Beaming, he asks all the right questions as A-Yuan tells his story. Wangji feels like a spectator, the bubbly conversation and loving gestures between Weiying and his son making him feel warm inside. He catches himself and sips his tea, hoping nobody noticed him staring. When he sets his cup down, he catches sight of Yanli's knowing smile and hurriedly looks away.

“... And auntie Yanli said we can go back and I’ll get to pick another candy next time!”

“Jie-jie, you are spoiling my child!” Weiying laughs, ruffling his son's hair as he happily continues. 

“A-Xian, don’t tempt me or I’ll buy him a pet.” Yanli smiles over her own cup of tea. 

“As long as it’s not a dog, I don’t mind. We can have a pet when you’re older, alright A-Yuan?” The boy blinks up at his dad and nods slowly, in awe of the promise of a furry friend. 

“Then can we go see bunnies with gege, baba?” He marvels, before hobbling over to Wangji’s seat and stumbling into his leg again. His eyes plead up at Wangji, but before he can agree to go see rabbits together he’s cut off by Weiying.

“A-Yuan, this gege is only here for a short time for work! We can’t assume people are free to do whatever.” Wangji presses his lips together in an effort to stop from arguing with Weiying as the little kid sticks out his bottom lip in dissatisfaction. 

“I love rabbits,” Wangji answers, slipping off his seat and crouching down so he’s eyelevel with A-Yuan. “If you want, we can visit them next time, at a pet store.” 

“Adventure?” The bright brown eyes stare at him eagerly. 

“Mn, an adventure.” Wangji nods.

Then A-Yuan is bopping along again towards Yanli with his newfound bunny adventure plans and Wangji stands up to place his tea cup in the sink. Bracing himself as he lingers next to Weiying, he lets himself steal another glance. Weiying’s side profile is as beautiful as he remembers, even when his focus is clearly elsewhere. 

“I called my car,” he starts, not looking away from Weiying. “If there was any damage I will gladly reimburse you for it, just send it to my email address.” He turns away when Weiying simply sips his tea and continues to look anywhere but at Wangji.

“Or text me as you have before, that will be fine too. I enjoyed meeting you in person.” Wangji continues, nodding politely at Yanli. He needs to leave here, go back to his room at the inn and stop his heart from hoping for more.

She looks back at him, confused. “Text?” She asks.

“A-Yuan! Time to go too!” Weiying shouts, speeding towards his son, lifting him up and twirling him around. “Say bye, gege!”

“Byeee bunny gege!” A-Yuan sing-songs, giggling as he’s spinned around. Weiying grabs his son's coat from the couch and bounces him in his arms, A-Yuan peering over his shoulder. Wangji gives him a soft smile and waves. 

“Gege smiled!” the boy exclaims in shock, the astonished eyes so much like his father Wangji sighs another smile at him. “Pretty.” A-Yuan whispers, resting his head on Weiying’s shoulder as the latter freezes, his head angling towards his son. 

“Your smile is pretty too.” He answers, walking over and patting his head. The boy beams at him, Wangji’s weak heart stuttering at the small exchange. How easy these people are to love, he marvels. 

The moment lasts for a quick second, before Weiying starts to walk towards the door, A-Yuan still waving over his shoulder. Something breaks inside him and he tries to catch the other’s arm in reflex to stop him from leaving but grabs at nothing but air. Weiying has never been rude until now and it snaps him out of his reverie. 

After coming all the way here, he huffs, adrenaline now building as Weiying continues to walk away from him and his feelings. He didn’t travel back here just to hear him apologize, as if having a wonderful little boy on his arm would ever deter Wangji from caring for them both. Why would it be so hard to just be friends, can’t he have at least a small place in their lives?

He looks helplessly at Yanli, who gives him the most pitiful look he’s ever seen. He balls his fists again and takes an angry breath before he follows Weiying outside. What an impossibly rude and stubborn man, he grumps.

A soft rain has started to fall and Weiying is doing his best to try and get A-Yuan in his car seat. They’re laughing at their own struggle, the sound beautiful to Wangji’s ears. The same one he’s been trying and failing to mimic in music. Windchimes on a spring morning, he thinks again. Sunlight on the water. His anger fades to the background, adrenaline still pushing him forward.

“Weiying.” He starts as he walks into the rain towards their car. “I know there is no place for me here.” his voice croaks, the emotion staining the edges of his speech. 

“Lan Zhan..” Weiying breathes, closing the car door now that A-Yuan is safely inside. 

“I know.” Lan Wangji carries on, closing his eyes forcefully to get the look on Weiying’s face out of his head. He does not want to remember him this way. “I understand it would be hard to be friends. A-Yuan is a wonderful child, I am glad I got to meet him. I wish you happiness with him and...”

Weiying takes a step backwards as he opens his eyes, the movement small but heartbreaking. 

“Goodbye, Weiying.” He stutters before stepping back too.

He watches Weiying nod and go, the frame forever burned into his eyes. Letting himself hope, letting himself want, he should have known it would be the death of him. As Weiying gets into the car and the motor starts purring, Wangji feels a breath stuck in his lungs unable to breathe it out. He’s scared if he does, the feelings and tears will come out with it. 

The car doesn’t start driving away, the tail lights burning his eyes as he keeps focusing on them. The soft rain is slowly getting worse and suddenly it feels like he has been standing here too long, the chill reaching from his fingertips all the way to his heart. So cold, he feels like it’ll break.

His gaze drops from the red lights to the side view mirror on the driver side. He can’t see Weiying’s eyes from here, he sighs, but maybe it is better this way. Weiying isn’t his to want, or his to love, even if Wangji knows he would take every little crumb he could get. 

He hangs his head and turns back towards the house. There has never been anyone else who made him feel like this and now he fears there never will be. Weiying has etched himself onto his skin with every touch, nestled himself in his heart with every smile and soft sigh.

A tear rolls down his cheek and he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead, he looks up to the sky and lets it trail a wet line across his neck, closing his eyes and embracing the pain scratching at his throat. He hopes the soft rain will wash away some of the pain as it hides his tears.

“I REALLY WANTED TO STAY WITH YOU!!” Snapping back to the car, he sees Weiying standing besides it now. “EVERY TIME I LEFT,” he screams, “I DIDNT WANT TO GO AT ALL!” 

Crossing the distance between him slowly but surely, he continues to shout at Wangji. “I was so sorry for lying, for hiding such an important part of me. I didn’t want to scare you away, to ask for too much. Then I was here on the day you were supposed to leave but you were already gone and I thought I’d missed my chance. And these last few weeks have been absolute hell so I don’t want you to go without knowing that I really, really didn’t want to go. That I still don’t want to go.” His hands trembling, he takes another step closer. 

“It's true it would be hard to be friends, because I want to kiss you every morning and sleep next to you every night. I want to make you dinner and lunch and breakfast, even though it’ll be too spicy for you. I want you to smile at A-Yuan. I want to make out with you so badly. I want to tell you I love you every day, every way I know how.”

He’s standing in front of Wangji now, a mirage, a dream, surely. All Wangji seems to be able to do is echo the words in disbelief. 

“Wanted to stay…” he mumbles.

“Yes!” Weiying shouts with a laugh.

“Want to kiss you… Love you..” He’s standing so close, nodding vigorously as Wangji can only repeat vaguely what he’s just heard.

“Yes! Lan Zhan,” Weiying sighs, his hand resting on Wangji’s chest. His words coming out in sighs, out of breath and smiling brightly. “If you’ll-”

Their lips crash together.

“Fucking finally.” He hears Jiancheng scoff loudly behind him. Weiying throws him a middle finger, then wraps both his arms around Wangji and kisses him dizzy.

Breaking apart, Wangji stumbles over his words. “And A-Yuan’s mother, or are you...” He doesn’t know how to ask, but Weiying seems to understand anyway. 

“I adopted him when his parents passed away, I’m raising him alone.”

“Hey!”

“...with help from a scowling little brother when forced.”

Wangji smiles brightly, the last bit of anxiety evaporating. 

“Pretty.” Weiying sighs, pulling him closer. 

“Weiying is prettier.” Wangji whispers, nuzzling in the nook of Weiying’s neck and breathing him in. 

“I hoped,” Weiying softly mumbles. “The way you looked at me, I hoped you wanted…”

“You.” Wangji answers. “I wanted you. Wanted this. Everything.” 

Weiying presses closer with a happy sigh and as Wangji wraps his arms around him, he feels he is finally home again. 

----- the end -----