Chapter Text
Let it be known that Wei Wuxian does not actively make a habit of being kicked out of public spaces.
So how he ends up “politely” escorted from a pet shop of all places—well, the blame falls on one culprit and one culprit alone.
Lan. Wangji.
That damn scoundrel with the good hair.
_______
“Wen Qing....Wen. Qing. Hey, jie—ah, ack! Hurts!”
“Call me that again and it’ll be your fingers next.” Wen Qing says without so much as a glance from her book.
She’s cut off the circulation in his ear. Wei Wuxian is certain of it.
He’s terrified—and vaguely turned on if he’s being honest but he knows Wen Qing would personally see to the end of any future offspring if he even thinks it. If Mianmian doesn’t beat her to it, that is.
No, Wei Wuxian would like to keep certain parts of his anatomy intact, thank you.
“Aiyo, ok ok, stop,” he whines when she suddenly twists. “Please, ok, I was wrong. I’m sorry! Wen Qing!”
After an excruciating moment, she releases him and he just about collapses on the floor. He rubs at his ear, pouting.
“You know...for someone in med school, you sure inflict more pain than you take away.”
Wen Qing cuts her eyes to him and he promptly shuts up. Best not to try his luck.
“But really,” he caves the next moment, because he’s long forgotten what self-preservation looks like. “You were the one who asked me to come here, but you’ve been ignoring me the entire time. Too cruel, don’t you think?”
“You serve a purpose,” she flips a page, “that’s all.”
She really takes no prisoners, Wei Wuxian thinks.
“Eh, purpose?”
She sighs, and ok, that’s a bit uncalled for because how is he supposed to know what she means. Far as he knows he’s only here to serve a purpose, he sulks.
The look she gives him is so exasperated yet unsurprised—which, again: rude—he’s pretty sure he should be embarrassed at this point.
Joke’s on her. You can’t lose face if you never had any to begin with.
“You’re like...a repellent—”
“Wah, thanks.”
“—naturally keeps people away.” Wen Qing continues as though he’s said nothing. “Maybe that scumbag will take a hint and stop bothering me while I’m studying with you around.”
Wei Wuxian rankles at that a bit, humor slipping from his face. “Someone’s been bugging you?”
Wen Qing waves him off. “What can I say...the straights are at it again.”
He glances around, hoping to catch sight of whoever Wen Qing’s talking about so he can accidentally spill his coffee on them or something. Then he remembers.
“Wait. And you thought I would be a good bodyguard? Er, you know you could probably snap me like a twig right?” he laughs weakly, tapping the bridge of his nose. “Or what about Mianmian? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to defend your honor.”
At that, Wen Qing’s eyes soften.
He throws up in his mouth.
“Maybe, but she’s busy studying so I’d rather not bother her.”
“Oh, but it’s alright if the one you’re pestering is me?”
She turns to him, deadpan. “You’re a freelancer. What could you possibly be busy with?”
“You—!” he splutters. Takes a deep breath then because it’s time to start watching his blood pressure. “Alright, alright,” his smile is pinched. “You’ve made your point.”
Smirking, Wen Qing turns back to her notes. Wei Wuxian all but forgotten at this point. He needs new friends, truly.
“Besides,” she starts, “it’s not like I need you here for protection. We both know that’d be fruitless.”
Ouch.
“It’s more of,” tapping her pen against her lips, “your face. Just looks like the type to deter others, you know?”
Never mind that Wei Wuxian is an actual human being with feelings. Well. New friends it is then.
“Da jie,“ to which he earns another smack to the back of his head. He rubs at it spitefully. “How can you say that? This face is a national treasure. My source of pride, I’ll have you know.”
Wen Qing squints at him. “Hm.”
Hah? ‘Hm’ what?
Wei Wuxian says as much.
“I guess that explains it then,” says Wen Qing. “Why you’ve never had much of that in the first place.”
This...person...really.
He fumes because what else can he do. Wen Qing merely steals a sip of her coffee—black, like her soul.
Huffing, he drains the rest of his mug, appeased now that he’s had his caffeine fix. Feeling a bit odd just sitting there, he thinks about those pastries he was eyeing earlier and the craving starts again.
“Wen Qing,” he pipes up, standing. “I’m going to get something, you want anything?”
“Mn.”
She still won’t give him the time of day. Ridiculous, he thinks.
“Fine, but don’t complain later that I didn’t offer.” Wei Wuxian says a bit peevishly. He sighs, heading towards the counter.
The array of sweets makes his mouth water. He leans against the glass, eyes glazing over.
Custard bun, tiramisu, macaron, egg tart...would it be excessive to get them all.
Choices, choices.
Wei Wuxian is so lost in his decisions that he misses the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him.
To choose, or not to choose...
His thoughts are interrupted by another sharp cough, more pointed this time around.
He turns, startled, and the idea of choices scatters.
Oh, is his first thought.
Followed by how much more attractive that face might be if it weren’t currently twisted in a scowl.
Those eyes—and are they a lighter brown or is that the light reflecting off them—narrow. Wei Wuxian forces himself to snap out of it lest the other ends him or something, which actually might not be too much of a stretch based on the intensity of that glare.
He laughs weakly, gesturing ahead. “Eheh, please.”
The other stares a moment longer before giving a curt nod, features smoothing out. “Thank you.”
Even his voice sounds nice, Wei Wuxian thinks. Unfair.
“Mm,” nods Wei Wuxian, grinning. He sees the other blink at him before striding past, hair rustling along his back as he walks by.
How does one look like they just stepped out of a movie.
Wei Wuxian briefly wonders what those long strands might look like wrapped tight around his fingers, maybe from behind—
He slaps himself. Then stands there, stunned that he just slapped himself.
Ow.
He catches the other turning back at the noise, and the judgment in that gaze is enough to make him wish he were one with the ground.
He chuckles nervously, rubbing his face.
He swears Ice Prince is two seconds away from rolling his eyes as he turns towards the barista. Which, once again: rude. Apparently his existence is a crime.
The world can’t handle him, he reasons.
Naturally, his eyes gravitate towards the other. He’s tall—just about his height. Fairly lean as well. And Wei Wuxian finds himself admiring that side profile.
Some people truly do win at life, he muses.
Perhaps he stares a bit longer than is appropriate. But Ice Prince has just pulled a card from his wallet, fingers long and nimble and suddenly Wei Wuxian is imagining the things he might do with them, perhaps wrapped around his—
He slaps himself again. There’s a resounding smack and he winces at the pain.
Now, both Ice Prince and the barista are staring at him like he’s lost his mind and maybe he has. He feels his cheeks heating, and not just from the sting.
Wei Wuxian.
He doesn’t even want to think about what Wen Qing will say if she‘s witnessed this whole thing. She’ll never let him live it down.
He tries to play it off, patting his cheeks futilely. A gnat. Yes, it was a gnat. That’ll do.
When he comes to, Adonis is already walking off with a to-go bag in one hand and a mug in another.
Wei Wuxian just barely refrains from blurting a wait, come back. That’d be slightly pathetic and Wei Wuxian may be many things but pathetic is where he draws the line.
Shameless, on the other hand...
Anyways, he supposes he’ll just have to pine for the Ice Prince in possession of a singular expression for the rest of the week. He is truly living his best life.
Having finally decided, Wei Wuxian pays for his bun and peers behind to ensure Wen Qing hasn’t left during this entire fiasco. He wouldn’t put it past her at this point.
When he does, he freezes.
Ice Prince is lingering by their table, back obstructing his view of Wen Qing and all prior thoughts of him vanish amidst the realization that this might be the creep she was referring to.
Snatching his plate with a hurried thanks, he practically dashes back to their table, hackles raised.
He slams his plate down with the theatrics he can muster before rounding on the other, inching closer to Wen Qing’s side instinctively. Wei Wuxian stares him down, arms folded across his chest.
Damn the bastard‘s good looks. His one-track mind is about to malfunction.
“Can we help you?”
He thinks he hears Wen Qing sigh but can’t be too sure.
Adonis—no, that privilege has been revoked. That person’s gaze flicks to his and Wei Wuxian can now confirm there are indeed hints of brown in those eyes. Wait.
“She’s not interested!” he blurts in lieu of his brain categorizing things which resemble that particular shade of brown.
“Wei Wuxian.”
And that’s certainly starting to border exasperation but he panics because his mind is beginning to supply words like soil and wood.
“Not interested at all! She’s in a happy, committed relationship!”
The air stills, people pausing mid-conversation to spectate.
In hindsight, Wei Wuxian’s had finer moments in life.
Wen Qing drags him down with a hiss, grip bruising. “Shut. Up!”
He gulps. Yes, finer moments indeed.
All the while, that person is regarding him with the most scathing look Wei Wuxian’s ever had the misfortune of beholding. Truly, if there was a way to appear even more unimpressed that person would be the one to find it.
“Are you done?” Her eyes can dismember him, and it’s in that moment that he takes note of the fresh mug in front of her. The one previously in the hands of the human icicle towering over him.
Wei Wuxian suddenly can’t see.
“Da jie?”
Wen Qing still looks like she’s three seconds away from burying him and he’s starting to sweat a bit. She takes a deep breath, and ah, that looks like it’s requiring some effort. Then she peers up at that person, expression almost apologetic.
“Lan Zhan, I’m sorry about this idiot.”
Well.
Lan Zhan seems to thaw a bit, some of the disdain leaving his eyes when he turns to Wen Qing. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” she sighs, “but this fool means no harm. Really.”
Wei Wuxian is unsure how he feels about them speaking of him as though he’s not here.
Nodding, Lan Zhan leaves it at that.
Lan Zhan. He tests it silently against his tongue. Said individual is plainly avoiding Wei Wuxian’s gaze, and he’s not entirely sure how to feel about that either.
Wei Wuxian looks his fill however, eyes slowly raking up and back down again. His existence is still being dismissed and he tamps down the indignation.
“Lan Zhan,” continues Wen Qing. “This idiot here is Wei Ying.” She turns to him then, gaze hardening. “And you. Before you interrupted and made a scene,” she says icily, “I was talking to Lan Zhan—Mianmian’s housemate. My friend.”
Ah. Well. To say this was all a bit of a misunderstanding may be downplaying it a bit.
He smiles at Lan Zhan impishly. “Heh, er, sorry about that.” He rubs his nose, fidgeting in place.
Lan Zhan says nothing to that. Refuses to acknowledge his presence still, and ok, maybe Wei Wuxian messed up a bit but would it really kill him to just look. His. Way.
“Ah. No hard feelings, right Lan Zhan?” he tries again.
“Lan Wangji.”
“E-eh?”
Lan Zhan finally turns to him, and his gaze is just as cutting as before. “My name. Is Lan Wangji.”
Wei Wuxian blinks. “B-but, Wen Qing called you Lan Zhan?”
If only Wei Wuxian had the words to describe the look Lan Zhan—or, Lan Wangji—sends him then. Chills down his spine, he tells you.
“Only my friends call me that.”
He’s speechless.
“Wen Qing,” and like that, Wei Wuxian’s back to being a piece of turd. Actually, a piece of turd might be more highly regarded by Lan Wangji at this point. “I’ll head out first. Goodbye.”
She nods, and Wei Wuxian is horrified to discover the hint of a smile on her lips. The betrayal.
“Mm, I’ll see you around,” and then, “thank you, Lan Zhan. For the coffee.”
“Mn.”
With a final nod, he takes his leave. Bag still clutched in his hand and not one glance in Wei Wuxian’s direction.
Really. The gall of this guy.
There’s a moment of silence. He watches him go, definitively not ogling that ass because there’s no reason to drag himself further up Lan Wangji’s hit list. Then Wei Wuxian promptly combusts.
“Wen Qing,” he whines, head thudding against the table. “Why didn’t you shut my big mouth up.”
She arcs a brow. “Would you have been able to shut that big mouth of yours?”
Point taken.
“He hates me. Oh my god.”
Waving dismissively, she takes a long drag from her cup. Wei Wuxian glares at it accusatorially.
“Lan Zhan’s slow to warm,” she reasons. “Perhaps he’ll forgive you someday.”
“Perhaps?”
Shrugging, Wen Qing flips her hair behind her shoulder. Already she’s forgotten about him and this existential crisis he’s on the verge of being catapulted into.
“Mm. Or maybe not,” her lips quirk. “After all, you did basically imply he was a creep. Publicly, too.”
Wei Wuxian groans. “Please. It was a momentary lapse of judgment. I thought he was the pervert we were talking about!”
Wen Qing sighs. “And I appreciate what you were trying to do but as I said, I don’t need you to protect me.”
“Can’t help it,” he grumbles. “You’re my friend.”
He misses the tired but fond look Wen Qing shoots him.
“Also. Why have you never told me about this?!” he shoots up, suddenly feeling some type of way. “How did you have such a hot friend and not introduce me?!”
She tuts. “Wei Wuxian. You slut.”
He pouts. The disrespect, really.
“I’m just saying,” he gripes, feeling oddly spurned. “If only you had introduced us earlier maybe we could have avoided this whole thing! And now...” his head hits the table with a thunk. “Now I’ve blown my chance at securing that. Ass.”
And what a fine ass it was, Wei Wuxian reflects morosely. Which just makes this entire debacle more depressing now that he thinks about it.
Wen Qing’s sharp bark of laughter disrupts his thoughts and he peers up at her, eyes narrowing. What? What was that for.
“Oh, Wei Ying,” she pats his hand gently, returning to her notes. “That’s implying you ever had a chance to begin with.”
Wei Wuxian hates it here. Truly.
_______
Admittedly, he’s still thinking about The Incident a week later.
He’s had some time to reflect. And yes, while he admits he did a Bad and maybe could’ve been slightly more tactful...
Well. He also thinks that Lan Wan—no, Lan Zhan he amends spitefully—might have been overreacting just a bit.
Really. It was an honest mistake. It’s not like he outright accused him of any funny business...merely suggested it....aloud.
What a petty fellow.
That’s the state Nie Huaisang finds him in hours later.
“Eh, Wei Ying?”
“Mmmph.”
Wei Wuxian feels a gentle prodding along his side but he’s too deep in a cesspool of angst to acknowledge it. He‘d rather stew in his own grief.
“Hey. Wei Ying.”
He squirms at the jab but doesn’t do much more than mash his face deeper into the pillow. This will have to be his legacy: that he perished on this bed alone and not by asphyxiation from Lan Wangji’s ass cheeks.
He jolts up, hand coming hard across his cheek.
Nie Huaisang yelps, nearly tripping as he stumbles back.
“Wei Ying! What’s wrong with you?!”
Good question, he mulls while rubbing his cheek. One of these days, he’s really going to have to cut his poor face some slack.
“Suffocate...” he murmurs dazedly.
“A-ah, huh?” A fan appears out of nowhere and Wei Wuxian has to wonder how he does it. “Are you sure you’re ok? Did you drink too much last night?”
“Yes,” mumbles Wei Wuxian, mind still hazy with images of Lan Wangji crushing his skull with his thighs. “Drowned in my tears.”
“Eh,” Nie Huaisang stares at him in confusion, fan flopping aimlessly. “Tears?”
Pull yourself together, Wei Wuxian.
This is not the end of the world...though it could be if Lan Zhan rode his face until his airflow was restricted.
His eyes gloss over.
“—Ying! Wei Ying!”
That slap definitely wasn’t by his own hand this time around. Whipping his head around, he gets ready to throttle the other.
“W-wait, stop right there! Ack! Wei Wuxian!”
And that’s how they end up on his bedroom floor, limbs sprawled with Nie Huaisang crushed firmly beneath his weight. And though a tragic loss for one Nie Huaisang, that’s about as risqué as their story will ever get.
“You—“ chokes Nie Huaisang, flailing. “You bastard! If you broke my fan, you’re dead!”
Wei Wuxian laughs, wrapping himself around him like octopi and refusing to let go. “How did you get in here anyways?”
There’s a struggle before he eventually goes pliant with a huff. “I have a key, remember?”
“Hm, remind me to fix that.”
Nie Huaisang punches him. “Forget about that. What the hell were you talking about just now? I really thought you went crazy, tch.”
“Mmm.” With a hum, Wei Wuxian curls closer. “Huaisang...”
“Nh?”
“...Never mind. What brings you here?”
“Get off me and I’ll tell you.”
Wei Wuxian’s lip juts out. “But I’m comfortable like this.” Proves his point by slinging a leg over his hip.
“Wei Wuxian, you’re over the top.”
“And still you love me.”
He takes Nie Huaisang’s silence as admission.
“I have a commission for you,” says Nie Huaisang after a beat. “If you’re interested.”
At that, Wei Wuxian perks up. “I’m listening.”
“Da ge wants to gift a drawing to his friend. He knows you take commissions and asked if you’d be willing to do one for him.” Then, “He said name your price and he’ll cover it.”
Well, who is he to argue with that.
“What does he want?”
There’s a pause before Nie Huaisang answers, “A bunny.”
Wei Wuxian blinks. “Eh? B-bunny? That’s, er...kind of random, isn’t it?”
“Yes, well. It’s what he thinks his friend will like. Don’t ask me...I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
On one hand, he hasn’t delved all that deeply past landscapes and portraits before but he’s still caught up on the name your price bit so. He supposes it’ll be good practice as well, hone that area and perhaps find a new muse along the way.
“Yeah, sure. Why not.”
“Ok,” says Nie Huaisang, shoving his thigh off. Wei Wuxian does not sulk at the loss. “I’ll let him know then.”
“Cool,” he answers, still refusing to get up. “Although...where to find a bunny.”
“Can’t you just look it up?”
Tutting, Wei Wuxian cranes his head. “I could, but I tend to work better with a live visual. At first, at least. Gets all the finer details and stuff.”
He doesn’t tell him this is his first attempt at a bunny so it feels like he has even less to work with. Because, well. Name your price.
“Hmm.” There’s a weighted pause before Nie Huaisang continues, “You know that super mall about 20 minutes away? They have one of the bigger pet shops around this area. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
And this is why he keeps Nie Huaisang around.
Planting a wet kiss against his cheek, Wei Wuxian snuggles tighter. “You genius.”
“Ugh, Wei Wuxian you’re just asking to be hit.”
He titters softly, then pales the next second. “Wait...you don’t think. There won’t be d-dogs right?”
Nie Huaisang bursts into laughter.
Wei Wuxian’s changed his mind. He loathes this dirtbag, it’s time to discard the trash in his life.
Yet he finds his lips twitching all the same.
And if it helps distract him from a certain someone even momentarily—well, all the better he thinks.
_______
That’s how Wei Wuxian finds himself spending his weekend.
Somewhere amid the chaos he manages to locate the shop and Nie Huaisang was right. Definitely bigger than the street shops he’s used to.
He lingers longer outside than he’s comfortable admitting when he realizes there are indeed. Dogs.
Even within their cages, Wei Wuxian’s palms begin to sweat and he questions how willing he is to take that risk.
Name your price, he reminds himself. Even as his vision starts to go a little spotty.
Name. Your. Price.
Balling his fists, he takes a deep breath. Wei Wuxian, you can do this.
Hearing the clink of a bell as he steps in, he quickly bypasses the front section of the store. Practically bolts until he reaches the back. A safe distance away from...dogs.
He sighs in relief, only to jump when a young woman suddenly rounds the aisle.
“Ah, sorry,” she says, and Wei Wuxian notices the logo on the apron she’s wearing. “Can I help with anything?”
He ruffles his hair. “Eheh, no thanks. Just looking.”
“Ok, if you need anything just ask.” There’s a dimple on her left cheek when she smiles, eyes warm. Cute.
“Sure. Thanks.”
She disappears behind another aisle and Wei Wuxian briefly wonders how long it’s been since his last date. What a pitiful existence.
Shrugging it off, his eyes roam over the vast cages and terrariums. He’s slightly awed. Walking down the aisle, he comes across a cage with several snow white bunnies and his heart just about melts.
“Hi,” he whispers, crouching down. Reaching forward, he strokes that soft fur gently. The bunny seems to startle at his touch before hopping away. He giggles. “Sorry.”
Removing his camera from its case, he thumbs around the settings before bringing it to eye level. Adjusting the aperture, he lets it focus before leaning in for the right shot. There’s a smile on his face as it shutters, noting the way some of their ears twitch at the sound.
Wei Wuxian tries to get a frame with each one, hoping it’ll grant him the nuances for his drawing. Letting the camera hang from his neck, he sticks his finger through the cage once more, petting the closest one. He grins when it allows him that, shuffling slightly but otherwise accepting of his touch.
“What are you doing?”
He stills, recognizing the steeliness behind that voice. Sure enough, when he peers up he’s met with an all too familiar face, fixed with a scowl.
“Lan Zhan,” he gapes.
If possible, that expression turns frostier. “Lan Wangji,” he corrects.
It takes Wei Wuxian longer than he’d like to recover, lips parted while he drinks in the sight of him. His hair is half up today, pieces pulled to the front while the rest falls down his back. Breathtaking, even when he looks a second away from stomping on him.
At this point, Wei Wuxian just might let him.
He practically leaps to his feet when he comes to his senses, straightening out his bomber.
“Ah, Lan Zhan!” he smiles brightly. “What are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that,” he bites and really, he can’t still be annoyed with him can he? “And it’s Lan. Wangji.”
Apparently he can.
Seriously. This guy is so stubborn.
“Ahh,” laughs Wei Wuxian, scratching the back of his head. “Well, I...I came for the bunnies.”
Lan Wangji is unmoved. Those eyes—with shades of brown, his mind supplies helpfully—trail from his camera to his face. His expression hardens.
He points to a spot above the cage. “No touching.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes follow and huh, would you look at that.
“Heh, you see, Lan Zhan—“
“First offense,” Lan Wangji interrupts coolly.
Wei Wuxian winces. Now that he looks, the sign does indicate that. Minor oversight.
“Er, yes, but I—“
“Second offense,” he cuts him off again. “No photography allowed. It can scare them.”
At that, there’s a genuine flash of irritation in his eyes and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t find it endearing. He really shouldn’t, but somehow Lan Wangji’s been in his head all week and just seeing him in the flesh is Doing Things.
Weak.
“Lan Zhan,” he wheedles. “Is this about last week? I’m sorry alright, it really was a mistake. Ah, I know. How about this? Why don’t we start fresh then you and I can be friends!”
“No need.”
Well don’t sound so eager now. He tries not to be offended. Fails.
“Aiyo, Lan Zhan,” he tries again, ignoring the other’s brisk Lan Wangji. “Don’t you think you’re being just a tad ridiculous?” He pats him on the arm only to quickly retract his hand when those eyes sear a hole where they’re touching. So unreasonable.
“Leave.”
“E-eh?”
Lan Wangji grabs his arm then, just short of uncomfortable as he steers them towards the door.
“Hey, Lan Zhan! W-wait!” Digging his heels in, he attempts to wrestle out of his hold but that grip is not. Letting. Up. “I said wait! Ok, look, how about this,” he manages to maneuver himself in front of the other, halting them in their steps. “A gift, hmm? Consider it an apology.”
Lan Wangji looks like he’s ready to suffocate him and Wei Wuxian can’t lie, it’s hot.
Now if only he’d do that while sitting on my face...
The slap comes before he has time to stop it and his expression crumples at the pain. He cradles his cheek, mortified by his choices in life.
Meanwhile, Lan Wangji is staring at him like he can’t believe he’s real. And not in the way Wei Wuxian would like.
Perhaps he’s doomed in the name of romance. Period.
Struggling out of Lan Wangji’s hold, he reaches for the flask hidden along his inner pocket. He looks around, no sight of the worker from earlier. He snickers, “Lan Zhan, for you. Shh.” Slips the flask into his hands. “Let’s call it even now, nh?”
Lan Wangji’s voice drops. “What. Is. This.”
Leaning in, he whispers, “Baijiu. A good one too.” He winks conspiratorially.
Lan Wangji’s face turns positively murderous and Wei Wuxian freezes because that was not part of the plan. “Wei Wuxian!”
“Oho, so you do remember my nam—ack!” Lan Wangji seizes his arm in a death grip. “A-ah, Lan Zhan. Wait!”
“Bribing a public worker. Third offense,” he hisses.
“P-public worker?” Wei Wuxian stutters. “What are you talking about!?”
“Lan Zhan?” A soft voice rings through the air, and they pause.
It’s the young woman from earlier. Wei Wuxian imagines they must make the sight, both like deer caught in headlights.
“W-what exactly are you doing with that customer?”
Now wait a minute. Lan Zhan?
“Escorting him out.”
That’s a bit drastic if you ask him.
“Er, are you sure that’s necessary?” she asks, a concerned look on her face.
Thank you. At least someone here sees reason, he sniffs.
“Very necessary.”
Tch.
“Lan Zhan, wait!” Wei Wuxian screeches when he notices the dog cages, going boneless.
Lan Wangji appears bewildered, though mainly peeved, as Wei Wuxian suddenly slips behind him, clutching the back of his shirt. Turning his head, he levels him with a glare.
Laughing nervously, Wei Wuxian nods at him. “Eheh, g-go ahead.”
He rolls his eyes. “Ridiculous.”
But he doesn’t wrestle him back to the front again, for which he’s grateful. He inches closer to Lan Wangji’s side when they pass, flinching at a bark. He just might tear a hole through his shirt.
Wei Wuxian flits his gaze up, intending to keep his eyes fixed on Lan Wangji’s back rather than dogs...
And nearly swallows his tongue in the process.
He’s wearing a fitted white tee, made of fairly thin material it seems. But it’s not that alone which has suddenly caused Wei Wuxian’s brain to liquefy.
No.
It’s the whorl of black peeking out from the neck of his shirt now that he’s pressed against him. It’s the faint outline of ink he can now make out beneath the fabric, and between sleek strands of his hair if he squints hard enough, splayed across his shoulder blades and dipping down his spine.
Wei Wuxian’s mind goes blank. He’s pretty sure his jaw is somewhere on the floor.
It isn’t until he hears the bells chime again that he realizes Lan Wangji actually intends to kick him out. The nerve!
“Wh-hey! Lan Zhan, let’s be reasonable here,” he tries, mouth still feeling like cotton as his eyes remain glued to the line of his back. He swallows thickly. “Er, you...”
“Get out,” that tone brooks no arguments.
“Aiya, Lan Zhan. Seriously?”
Finally—finally Wei Wuxian is able to tear his eyes away from the span of his back, and what a back it is.
“Isn’t this customer harassment,” sniffs Wei Wuxian. “You really should learn to treat your clientele better, Lan Zh—“
“Lan Wangji.”
Wei Wuxian huffs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one. He resolutely does not think about the intricate patterns on That Back...nor does he find himself short of breath just imagining the ways he’d map those shapes with his tongue. Not a chance.
“Alright, alright,” he concedes when Lan Wangji begins manhandling him. “At least return my gift since you coldly rejected my friendship.” He sticks a hand out, lips jutting. If he wants nothing to do with him the least he can do is drink away his sorrows.
Lan Wangji looks like he’s plotting all the ways he could murder Wei Wuxian while getting away with it.
He tries to snatch his flask from Lan Wangji’s hands but then the other is unscrewing the cap.
“Wah, good idea Lan Zhan!” he praises, amending earlier thoughts of him being too rigid. “One for the road, right? Great, you first and then I—LAN ZHAN!”
Wei Wuxian watches in horror as Lan Wangji tips the entire flask’s contents inside the trash can beside him.
“No outside food or drink,” he recites calmly, pointing to the wall. “Fourth offense.”
“You—!”
He’s going to pop a blood vessel.
Shoving the empty flask back in his hands, Lan Wangji ushers him none too gently out the door. Before shutting it in his face.
“Lan Zhan, you’re too much! Do you hear me!? Too! Much!” he shouts at his retreating back. That cursed back.
Wei Wuxian is too riled up to pay heed to any onlookers, surely doubting his sanity at this point as he swears and rages outside a pet shop.
With a final huff he storms off, ignoring the perplexed stares and muttering all the while.
Lan Wangji, you dirty scoundrel.
_______
“And then he dumped the rest of it before kicking me out! Can you believe it, jie? He kicked me out. Me—Wei Wuxian!” he rants, feeling gentle fingers card through his hair. He sniffs. If anything, he’ll always have his Jiang Yanli, the best da jie in the world.
“Xianxian,” she says, voice soft. “You really do attract trouble wherever you go, don’t you?”
Wei Wuxian pouts, shifting so he can bury his face against her stomach. Those fingers continue running soothingly through his hair.
“Jie,” he whines, “it’s not my fault. Really. Who would’ve known there was such a cold-hearted guy...didn’t even take one sip before wasting it. Ridiculous.”
“Wei Wuxian, you’re lucky that’s all he did. Flaunting alcohol around in public, how incorrigible.”
Ah, yes. For a blissful moment he had forgotten about the presence of one pest of a brother.
“Didi, the grown ups are talking. Don’t interrupt.”
“You—!”
“Alright, alright,” cuts in Jiang Yanli, hiding a smile. “Stop fighting, the both of you.”
Both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng share a glare before turning away.
“It’s bad enough he’s an asshole, but an attractive one,” continues Wei Wuxian. “What a waste. He doesn’t deserve his beauty.”
“Xianxian,” Jiang Yanli chides, tapping him on the nose.
“It’s true,” he mopes, arms wrapping around her waist. “A hot bastard.”
He thinks he hears Jiang Cheng snort but he’s the one currently receiving attention and head rubs so who’s the real winner here.
“Also,” says Wei Wuxian, recalling That Which Shall Not Be Recalled. “He has a tattoo, jie. Honestly, that...should be illegal.”
If he thinks about it too long he’s going to combust, in his head and his pants so. There’s that. Time to put an end to such thoughts. Now. This is him putting his foot down. Right. Now.
“Wei Wuxian,” says Jiang Cheng. “If you’re so hung up on tattoos why don’t you get one?”
Wei Wuxian shudders at the thought. “Haven’t you seen the size of those needles...no, I don’t want it. No, thanks.”
He can feel Jiang Cheng’s eye-roll from here.
“Yet you’re blabbering over here about another person’s tattoos...tch, so weird.”
“Nnnghh,” groans Wei Wuxian, voice muffled against his jie’s shirt. Her fingers haven’t stopped raking through his hair. Truly an angel. “Don’t remind me.”
Lan Wangji was put on this earth to lead Wei Wuxian astray. Of that, he is convinced.
Such an uptight character. Completely unbending when it comes to the rules...and stingy with his forgiveness too, he thinks peevishly.
Which is why Wei Wuxian struggles to wrap his head around Lan Wangji’s decision for That. He’d assumed the body would be regarded a temple in his eyes, or something like that. Maybe that’s an overreach but still.
He has to wonder what his deal is.
Lan Wangji just may be the most frustrating yet intriguing person he’s come across in a while.
It makes Wei Wuxian all the more curious. And curiosity’s always been a catalyst for his shenanigans.
“Jie,” he whispers. “Do you think it’s stupid of me to be drawn to that kind of person?”
He feels a gentle nudge then, his jie turning his head so he can look up at her. There’s a smile on her lips, the light in her eyes gentle, and Wei Wuxian vows to do everything in his power to preserve it.
“Silly,” she says softly, cupping his cheek with a tenderness that nearly brings tears to his eyes. “Our Xianxian could never be stupid.”
He smiles then, the kind that shows off all his front teeth. She returns it, patting him on the head.
“If nothing else, at least I have you jie.”
Jiang Yanli hums, indulgent. “That, Xianxian, you do. Yinyin, too.”
“Jie,” grumbles Jiang Cheng, though notably softer with her than he’s ever been with Wei Wuxian. Though, that’s acceptable. He’d beat him senseless if he ever tried otherwise. “Don’t you think I’m too old for that.”
Jiang Yanli laughs, something mischievous in her eyes. “Absolutely not. The two of you will always be my Yinyin and Xianxian, no matter how quickly you grow up.”
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes again but there’s the hint of a smile on his lips.
“Wei Wuxian,” he says, turning to him. “Don’t keep embarrassing yourself needlessly.” He frowns to himself. “If nothing is coming out of it, there’s no need to keep chasing others.”
Wei Wuxian grins. “Ah, is my didi worried about me?”
“You!” says Jiang Cheng, scoffing. “Who would be worried about you. All I’m saying is, have some dignity. Don’t make a fool of yourself running after someone that won’t return the favor.”
Smiling to himself, Wei Wuxian acknowledges it for what it is.
“Alright, Yinyin,” he teases. “For you.”
Jiang Cheng looks torn between disgust and indignation and Wei Wuxian takes it in with a laugh. Huffing, Jiang Cheng eventually turns back to his phone.
Jiang Yanli merely looks on fondly, shaking her head at their usual antics.
“Jie,” Wei Wuxian tugs on her sleeve, slightly dismayed that her fingers have stopped working their magic. He glances up at her with wide eyes, pleading. Hears her titter softly in response and counts that as a personal victory.
She resumes her stroking and all is well in the world again.
“Mmm,” hums Wei Wuxian, feeling very much like a kitten. A doted-upon kitten. “Jie, are you, Jiang Cheng and I all eating lunch again tomorrow?”
Those movements falter in his hair and he peers up curiously. “Jie?”
“Ah,” she whispers, apologetic. “I’m sorry Xianxian, I forgot to mention...”
“Hm?”
“Jie has a date tomorrow,” cuts in Jiang Cheng, eyes glued to his phone.
“Yinyin!” she scolds, cheeks flushing.
Wei Wuxian sits up, on high alert now.
“Date?” he asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “With who?”
He swears on all that is holy...if it’s that peacock—
“Jin Zixuan,” answers Jiang Cheng.
“Jiang Wanyin!”
Jiang Cheng winces. “Sorry, jie.”
“Jie!” says Wei Wuxian, tamping down his initial outrage. “Please tell me he’s joking!”
Jiang Yanli has the decency to look somewhat guilty but denies nothing. Wei Wuxian is even more scandalized.
“Jie,” he whines, clutching her hands. “Not Jin Zixuan!”
“Xianxian,” she says, fond.
“That, t-that guy is over the top. What could you possibly see in him? He flaunts his money and struts around like a peacock...a peacock!” he rants, blood pressure rising. “You’re too good for him, jie. Definitely too good. Ah, I know. How about this, you skip your date with him tomorrow and your Xianxian promises to help you find someone worthier. Much worthier.”
Holding back her laugh, Jiang Yanli pats his hands. Her tone is soothing when she says, “No need, Xianxian. Your jie is only getting lunch with him tomorrow.”
“Ha! Is that what he said? No, no. Can’t trust anything that comes out of that fiend’s mouth,” Wei Wuxian mutters to himself. “Jie, that guy is shifty. I think it’d be best to avoid him entirely. For all we know he could be a drug lord.”
“Xianxian.”
“I think it’d be a very bad idea. Mm, no doubt. Jiang Cheng, tell her it’s a bad idea.”
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. Yet again. “Wei Wuxian, don’t tell jie what to do.”
“Jiang. Cheng.” He grits between clenched teeth. This good for nothing kid.
Squeezing his hands lightly, Jiang Yanli attempts to console him. As if he could be consoled at this point!
“Xianxian,” she tries again, patient.
And see, Wei Wuxian reasons. She’s an angel. An actual angel. How could someone like Jin Zixuan ever come close to being good enough for her. How could anyone?
“Thank you for your concern, but it’s my job to worry about you. You and Yinyin, remember?” she smiles, pinching his cheek. “It’s just lunch.”
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to argue then shuts it promptly. Because there’s this expression on her face—one he regretfully doesn’t get to see too often. Something like excitement. And any dissent he has promptly dies on his tongue because he can’t bear to take that from her.
So he swallows past his fury and ignores the lump in his throat, hand covering hers gently.
“Jie...you,” he says. “This is what you want?”
When she turns to him, the answer is written on her face.
“Mm,” she nods, eyes lighting up.
Wei Wuxian sighs, resigned. “Then it’s what jie shall have.” The words sour his mouth, his smile pained.
He swears he will end Jin Zixuan if he even thinks about trying anything funny though. They’ll be collecting his remains in buckets.
Jiang Cheng scoffs. “You say that as if jie actually needs your permission. Wei Wuxian, don’t overstep.”
His temple throbs. Really, this kid...offering his input when it’s unneeded and backing out when it is. He really should beat some sense back into him.
“Di di, what did I say about letting the grown ups talk?”
“You—!”
Jiang Yanli’s laughter cuts through their bickering. She regards them both with the affection only someone accustomed to their vices can have. “Alright, the two of you stop fussing.”
Wei Wuxian rubs his nose, chagrined, but allows his jie to comb her fingers through his hair a final time. He basks in it. Jiang Cheng looks equally contrite, pouting slightly.
“No matter how old the both of you get, it seems the one thing you can’t grow out of is arguing.”
“Jie,” says Jiang Cheng, petulant. “He’s the one who always starts it.”
“Says who?!”
Shaking her head, Jiang Yanli shushes them again. “You see.”
“Fine,” continues Jiang Cheng. “Wei Wuxian, just let da jie enjoy her date tomorrow. If Jin Zixuan does anything weird we’ll break his legs, alright?”
Wei Wuxian doesn’t tell him he plans to do more than that if Jin Zixuan steps even one toe out of line. Merely nods instead, still miffed at the thought that his jie would give someone that vapid and undeserving even a second of her time.
“Fine.”
It’s fine.
“You two,” says Jiang Yanli, rolling her eyes.
Wei Wuxian is fine. Anything for jie’s happiness, he reminds himself. Even if source of said happiness seems to possess no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
But it’s fine.
As with everything else, he will handle it.
_______
Wei Wuxian does not handle it.
He ends up caving and sending Mianmian a text later that evening, asking if she has time tomorrow to meet. Being friends with Jin Zixuan, he’s betting she has the information he’s looking for.
Just imagining his jie and that peacock in the same space again nearly makes him break the pencil in his hand.
That snotty bastard likely testing out his greasy moves on her, thinking she’s infatuated enough to fall for it and that he’ll be able to sweep her right off her feet.
His pencil snaps.
Trying to court my jie? Ha! Jin Zixuan, just you wait. You’re in for a surprise.
Mianmian, the saint she is, agrees to meet him. He could kiss her...though Wen Qing would sooner remove his scalp than permit such a thing.
In the midst of texting, a thought flits through his mind, passing nearly as quick as it came.
Lan Zhan...what is he up to?
He nearly flings his phone across the room.
What does it matter. That jerk can fall into a ditch for all I care...though gently, perhaps.
He punches his pillow, peeved that such an ethereal specimen also happens to be a pigheaded asshole.
Shame.
Wasting his gift like that. How unfeeling.
Wei Wuxian is done. He has reached his limit and is putting his foot down. Once and for all. Starting from tomorrow. The world will see a new man.
Lan Zhan who?
_______
“So...about your housemate.”
Tomorrow is another day.
“Xingchen?” asks Mianmian.
He shakes his head.
“Zichen?”
Another shake.
“Wangji?”
At that, he nods. A touch too eagerly perhaps. Before his mind registers the teasing lilt to her voice. His eyes narrow in suspicion.
“That one.”
“Hm,” she hums, feigning disinterest. “What about him?”
Mianmian has a gym bag slung over her shoulder—Wei Ying, walk with me to Wushu—sipping the smoothie he bought her. Because she demanded compensation for details on Jin Zixuan. Which, fair enough. Blackmail material is vital.
“Is he always that...square?”
Dissolving into laughter, Mianmian side-eyes him. “Mm, sometimes. Particularly around people he finds troublesome.”
Wei Wuxian sniffs. “Well he’s no ray of sunshine either.”
Mianmian grins. “He can be...cautious around new people. More so if he feels like he doesn’t understand you. Or your reason for doing things, which, now that I think about it sounds like you Wei Wuxian.” Her voice turns thoughtful then. “But, once you have him, you’d be hard-pressed to find someone more loyal. He reminds me of you, in some ways.”
He grimaces, unsure how to take being compared to Lan Wangji. So he takes another approach.
“Also, how come I never knew you had a friend who looked like that?” he sniffs. “You’re worse than Wen Qing because at least she doesn’t live with him!”
“Exactly for that reason,” she rolls her eyes. “I didn’t trust you not to hit on him.”
“I would no—“
“Wei Ying, you flirt with anything that breathes.”
His mouth snaps shut. The slander, honestly.
“And what’s wrong with me hitting on him?”
Mianmian stops in her tracks. “Lan Zhan is different. He’s not like your other flings, Wei Ying.” There’s an edge to her voice and Wei Wuxian recoils because, ah, that actually might have hurt a bit.
Noticing the change in his demeanor, Mianmian softens. Her tone gentles but there’s steel underneath.
“When I said earlier that when you have him, you have him...I meant it.”
She regards him then, studying his reaction. Wei Wuxian thinks she might be appeased by what she sees because a layer of her defense seems to crumble.
Let him never be foolish enough to underestimate one Luo Qingyang.
“You’re a good guy, Wei Ying. Great friend, too,” she tells him, honest. “But Lan Zhan, he doesn’t do things half-heartedly. When something is worth working for, he puts his all into it.”
There’s something almost sad that crosses her face then. “So. If this is just something passing for you, I’m asking you to please reconsider your actions towards him.”
Wei Wuxian swallows. Admittedly, it stings a little that she thinks he might intentionally hurt anyone that way. But, maybe he also understands on some level. After all, wasn’t he ready to bury Jin Zixuan if he ever came close to hurting his jie.
So he thinks about it. Turns it over in his head. Asks himself why the interest. Perhaps the answer doesn’t come quite as easily as he’d thought.
“I...” says Wei Wuxian. “I honestly don’t know why I’d be interested in him, no offense. He’s infuriating. And somewhat rude, and not to mention such a stickler for rules! How weird.”
And ok, perhaps he’s not making the best case for himself out here but Mianmian seems to take it in stride, eyes evaluative.
He blows out a breath, struggling with his next words because it feels odd to be giving them voice.
“And still, he’s in my head. Just—in there,” he breathes, frustrated. “I’m not even sure that I really like him at this point. He’s kind of been an ass, to be honest.”
Then he thinks of Mianmian. Of Wen Qing. And knows they’d never vouch for someone who was truly unkind.
“But—“ looks down at his hands, “I think I might like to get to know him. As a friend. I-I think I might like that a lot, actually.”
It’s silent for some time, the twittering of birds in the background. He chances a glance at Mianmian and is surprised to find what almost looks like approval in her eyes.
Her features soften then. She links her arm through his, resuming their pace.
“Well,” says Mianmian, traces of solemnity fading from her expression. “I guess it’d be alright to tell you then, that Lan Zhan generally goes to a cafe to study on Wednesday’s. You know, the one Qingqing loves.”
Yes, Wei Wuxian is more than acquainted with that shop. He still blanches a bit at the recollection.
She leans in close, their arms looped. “And, he won’t admit it, but he secretly has a sweet tooth. Especially when it comes to custard buns. He hardly ever buys them for himself—some strict self-imposed diet he’s on, that guy seriously...but if you get one for him, he never refuses.”
Mianmian laughs, shaking her head. “So stubborn, that kid.”
Wei Wuxian is inclined to agree, but retains that information nonetheless.
“Just thought you might like to know,” she smirks. “As a friend, of course.”
He blushes then, scratching his nose. “Eheh, right.”
“Mm.”
Fortunately, Mianmian leaves it at that. He’s not sure he knows what he’d follow that up with anyways.
Still. He has much to consider.
Sweet tooth, eh?
Wei Wuxian fights a smile, allowing Mianmian to tug him whichever way.
Lan Zhan...who would’ve thought a sourpuss like you might also have such a weakness. Could it be...? Underneath that exterior, you’re really a softie on the inside?
He hopes Mianmian doesn’t notice the slightly foolish grin he’s sporting. If she does, she draws no attention to it.
Perhaps, if Wei Wuxian hasn’t completely botched things up and landed on Lan Wangji’s bad side—
Maybe, just maybe he’ll have the opportunity to find out.
_______
Wednesday arrives slower than Wei Wuxian cares to admit.
After extracting what information he could from Mianmian, he had gone home and sat with it all. Resolvedly not anticipating the middle of the week or planning what he’d say when faced with Lan Wangji again.
Wei Wuxian certainly did nothing of the sort.
And now, he finds himself making his way back towards the cafe, trying not to dwell on it because really—what’s the worst that could happen.
He doubts he’s all that high in Lan Wangji’s regards so the only place to go from here is up. Optimism, it is.
He just hopes that optimism doesn’t result in a face or lapful of coffee. With his luck, he can’t say he’d be all that surprised.
Not that it matters all that much to him, but there’s a small—very small—part of him that hopes they’ll be able to move past this. After all, they’re adults. In theory.
Possibly, Wei Wuxian doesn’t handle misunderstandings all that well either. If he can avoid hard feelings, all the better.
And maybe they could get along. He feels, if given a fresh start of some kind, they might realize they have more in common than they think?
Wei Wuxian is hardly opposed to new friendships as well. The more the merrier. And he was being honest with Mianmian when he said he might like to get to know Lan Wangji, maybe pick his brain apart a little because heaven knows what goes on in there.
It’s odd admitting he might actually want to be friends with Lan Wangji. Friends. Even odder that he’s entertained the thought more these past few days than he ever has.
Feels strangely fitting, however, and what that says about Wei Wuxian he’s not entirely certain.
But the idea of learning Lan Wangji, spending time with him and maybe coaxing something other than that deadpan expression of his...the prospect is alluring indeed.
And if it just so happens that Wei Wuxian has spent an equal amount of time imagining what it might be like to drop to his knees and put his mouth around him, to crowd him against the wall and eat him out until his legs buckle...well. He does so strictly in a platonic sense.
The way the thought makes him swallow and his blood run slightly hot—that can be chalked up to the prospect of a beautiful friendship.
He clears his throat. Might be best for those thoughts to remain just that: thoughts.
Approaching the cafe, he feels his nerves kick up a notch. Nothing to be nervous about, he tells himself. Whatever happens shall happen.
Still, it feels like his hopes dangle on a thread.
Holding his breath, Wei Wuxian enters. He automatically scans his surroundings, passing over those in sight. Mianmian had told him earlier in the afternoon and he had waited, just to be safe. Now he’s crossing his fingers that he hasn’t missed him.
Just as the disappointment begins to sink in, his eyes catch on a figure sat far off to the side, back facing him.
Wei Wuxian fears he may be conditioned to recognize that silhouette wherever he goes. Long, dark hair falling past those shoulders and a poise to his bearing even from a distance.
His lips tug at the corners.
This guy...really.
He doesn’t realize he’s released the breath he was holding. Instead, he bites back a smile and makes his way over. He grapples both with anticipation and dread.
Even then, Wei Wuxian can’t seem to tear his eyes away.
Perhaps pathetic isn’t too obscure a line to cross after all.
Lan Wangji doesn’t seem to sense his approach, immersed in his studies. Which might be for the best. For if he had turned around in that moment and caught the intensity of such a gaze, it might have been enough to turn him off for good. Even if Wei Wuxian himself remains unaware.
When he’s close enough, Wei Wuxian notices the lines of ink curled around his shoulder blades, where the scoop neck he’s wearing hangs lower today.
He does not nearly trip over himself at the sight.
But it’s possible he wets his lips unconsciously.
Not for the first time, he thinks: unfair.
At that moment, Lan Wangji turns. Wei Wuxian does stumble then.
Those eyes seem to widen a fraction before settling into something impassive. His mouth tightens.
“What are you doing here?”
Wei Wuxian doesn’t realize he’s come to a halt, lingering by Lan Wangji’s side. He doesn’t look away though, meeting that gaze unflinchingly.
Lan Wangji’s brows furrow, lips parting slightly at the silence. His Adam’s apple bobs subtly and Wei Wuxian’s eyes dip to the column of his throat, raking over skin.
For a second, Lan Wangji’s expression seems to falter. Then he recovers and his face is guarded once more.
Wei Wuxian stares a beat longer before tearing his gaze away. He swallows thickly.
“Lan Zhan,” he greets, pulling out the chair across from him.
He’s met with a glare. “There are other open tables.”
Wei Wuxian plops down, grin crooked. “Mm, but none of them with Lan Zhan.”
That earns him a look, sharp and distinctly unimpressed. He chuckles, wondering if he truly has gone off the rails for finding it cute.
“Ridiculous.”
He drops his bag before facing him, head propped against his hand.
“Am I?”
At that, Lan Wangji doesn’t respond, flipping through a page instead. “You should sit elsewhere. And it’s Lan Wangji.”
So stubborn.
“Aiyo, Lan Zhan,” says Wei Wuxian. “Don’t be like that. Aren’t we friends at this point. After all, you were bold enough to throw away my baijiu. I still haven’t forgiven you.” He pouts, just thinking of it again.
“Your forgiveness is unneeded.”
This guy...
“You—” he breathes deeply. “Is it really so hard to say sorry?”
Lan Wangji is unfazed. “Not when the situation requires it,” he scans his notes. “In this case, it’s unnecessary.”
Wei Wuxian isn’t even sure how to address that.
“Pouring out my liquor doesn’t require an apology?”
“You violated store policy,” answers Lan Wangji, unblinking.
The way his lashes appear up close, dark eyes slitted—Wei Wuxian is convinced he’s doing it on purpose.
He has his hair half up again, but there are wisps loose in the front and it adds a softness to his features that Wei Wuxian fixates on.
He...really is quite handsome, isn’t he?
Throat dry, he forces himself to look elsewhere. Dangerous, too, if he’s not careful.
“Really,” he changes the topic. “Are you always this unreasonable?”
“What’s unreasonable to you may be within reason for me.”
When Wei Wuxian steals a peek, Lan Wangji’s focus has returned to his studies. He’s mouthing to himself while highlighting his notes and he takes a second to watch him. Like this, a layer of the austerity seems to shed and it rattles his thoughts because maybe he’s been getting it wrong. In this light, very little about Lan Wangji appears unfeeling.
He feels oddly in the wrong here. Yet this time, he finds himself relieved that he is.
“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, and something about his tone seems to snag the other’s attention. He peers up from his notebook, vigilant. Wei Wuxian softens. “I think I owe you an apology. For what I said, when we first met...I really am sorry.”
Lan Wangji appears not to have been expecting that, eyes searching while he regards him silently.
Though his expression gives little away, there’s a trace of something in his eyes. Something he’s not sure he’s had directed at him before. It lightens the weight in his chest.
“Mn,” says Lan Wangji. He seems to consider something else before, “Thank you.”
Wei Wuxian breaks into a smile.
“And Lan Zhan?”
“Mm.”
“I didn’t actually come here to bother you. I...I can move if you’d like, but. If it’s ok with you, I think I’d like to sit here.” He chews on his lip. “Is...that alright?”
If he could describe what passes over Lan Wangji’s face then, it might be surprise. Perhaps an iota of discomfort as well before it eases into something like acquiescence.
Witnessing it, Wei Wuxian feels even more naive for believing Lan Wangji had only one expression to spare. He thinks there might be a vast array of stories derived from his eyes alone.
After a prolonged moment, Lan Wangji nods. And Wei Wuxian sags in relief. Something about it feels like a success.
Lan Wangji’s gaze sharpens again. “But if you start distracting me, you’re moving.”
Wei Wuxian nearly says it’s only fair considering how distracting you are, but thinks better of it. They’ve only just reached this milestone after all and he’d rather not start back at square one.
Instead, he nods. “Deal.” Letting out a soft giggle, his eyes are bright while he gazes at Lan Wangji across the table.
Lan Wangji appears stricken, lips parting as he stares back at him. His expression tightens minutely before he breaks contact. Like that, the moment passes.
Wei Wuxian hides his disappointment well.
If he spends a little longer committing the color and shape of his eyes to memory, that’s no one’s business but his own.
Retrieving his sketchbook and pencil, he decides to keep himself busy; working in tandem with Lan Wangji.
He hasn’t been able to tackle his latest project with his usual gusto, rather preoccupied this week. That changes now, he tells himself, bringing the end of his pencil to his lips. Flipping to the page he wants, he evaluates his work thus far, head tipping to the side while he chews on the eraser.
Unconsciously, he glances over to check on Lan Wangji only to find the other steadily watching him.
There’s a slight frown to those lips and Wei Wuxian blinks, distracted by how soft and inviting they look. Like they’ve been bitten and he is suddenly flooded with images of Lan Wangji panting beneath him, lips raw and bleeding and—
He feels the slap before it comes, eyes watering at the impact.
And he was doing so well, too.
“Wei Wuxian,” states Lan Wangji drily. “Why do you always hit yourself?”
He smiles weakly. “Habit?”
Lan Wangji appears unmoved. Rather, he looks like a man reluctantly coming to terms with Wei Wuxian’s eccentricities. If that means he’s making room for him somewhere in his mind, he’ll take it.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Lan Wangji says evasively.
His grin turns sly. “Ah, is Lan Zhan worried for this handsome face?”
Wei Wuxian is met with such a flat stare that he cracks, burying his laughter in his hands.
“Aiya, I’m kidding Lan Zhan,” he teases, a mischievous spark to his eyes. “I guess I can make an effort...for you.”
Lan Wangji looks away. “Boring.”
But there’s a flush starting from his ears and Wei Wuxian is so endeared.
Mianmian’s words suddenly come to mind and he rises, smile growing.
“Mm, Lan Zhan. I’m going to buy something,” his eyes drift to the near empty mug and the to-go bag on the table. “Can I get you anything?”
He looks at him then, taken aback, as though unaccustomed to being asked what he wants. The thought sits uncomfortably with Wei Wuxian for some reason.
“Mm,” shaking his head, “no need.”
“Alright, I’ll be back.”
He doesn’t wait for a response, making a beeline for the counter but not before stealing a glance. Even deep in work, Lan Wangji’s posture remains impeccable. An impressive feat. The bleeding artist he is has probably messed up his back in so many ways through a variety of positions that there’s no turning back now.
Just another thing to add to his growing list of observations about Lan Wangji. Which sounds creepy, now that he thinks about it.
Wei Wuxian orders what he needs with far more haste this time around, keen to get back. He’s slightly embarrassed to admit that but it’s not enough to deter him.
He slows as he approaches their table and allows himself to observe. Notes his form from behind, the breadth of those shoulders as well as the swirls of ink detailing them, once again ignoring the way he reacts to that. Admires the subtle elegance within an otherwise imposing figure. Thinks about what it’d be like to sink his fingers in that hair, playful tugs first then wrenched with a ferocity—
He stops the thought, guilty for thinking of Lan Wangji and their budding friendship this way. He didn’t ask for this, Wei Wuxian reminds himself, and it feels demeaning and invasive on various levels.
Idiot, that didn’t stop you before.
As though sensing his presence, Lan Wangji cants his head suddenly, not turning back directly but a subtle shift to the side. It feels simultaneously like a question and invitation.
Some of his worry eases then. The smile returns naturally as he makes his way to him, plate in his hands.
Meeting Lan Wangji’s gaze, he feels something click back in place, guilt assuaged for the moment.
Setting the plate between them, he makes a subtle gesture to the custard buns resting there. Catches the way those eyes—closer to the color of coffee beneath the sunlight—flicker before they’re carefully schooled into something tame.
Wei Wuxian fights a grin.
None of that, he thinks.
Pushing the plate towards the other, he says casually, “Lan Zhan, my eyes were hungrier than my stomach and I got greedy. Help me eat one?”
He tries not to laugh at the way Lan Wangji steadfastly avoids looking at the plate.
“No, thank you,” he says. “I don’t eat sweets.”
Liar. This guy definitely is stubborn!
“Ah, really?” he pouts, feigning disappointment. “Shame.”
Wei Wuxian grabs one then, biting into it with an appreciative hum. “Delicious,” he grins around a mouthful. Noticing the dour expression on Lan Wangji’s face, he delights in it.
Calling your bluff, Lan Zhan. Still think you can fool me?
“Wah, seriously tasty Lan Zhan!” he gushes, obnoxious as he can get. “Maybe it’s good you don’t want one.”
Lan Wangji scowls, ignoring him but Wei Wuxian thinks he sees his resolve faltering.
Taking another bite, he sighs in bliss. “The filling is just right. Not too sweet, and the coconut in here—yummy!” He stuffs the rest inside his mouth, chewing happily.
A muscle in Lan Wangji’s face twitches. He masks his glee.
Smacking his lips loudly, he beams. “Lan Zhan, are you sure you don’t want it?”
Silence.
“Alright, if you’re sure...” he taunts, making a show of reaching for the other bun. “I’ll sacrifice myself then and help you eat it!”
Before he can nab it, his hand is suddenly slapped away. He smirks.
“Lan Zhan, what are you doing?”
“...I changed my mind.” And snatches the bun before Wei Wuxian can blink, reminding him of a child coveting a toy.
“Eh, didn’t you say you don’t eat sweets?” he asks, trying not to sound too smug.
“I changed my mind,” repeats Lan Wangji. He leaves it at that before taking a bite, prim even while doing so.
Busy savoring the treat, Lan Wangji misses the glimmer in Wei Wuxian’s eyes—the way his smile settles into something pleased.
It brings an unprecedented sense of satisfaction to have been able to provide for Lan Wangji in this trivial way.
The light in his eyes while he steals another bite is a plus as well. Not to mention the way he’s nibbling gently at the edges reminds him of a bunny, and he must have really hit a new low to be finding that precious.
So he watches him. Props his head against a fist, soft smile in place.
Lan Zhan, simple things like this...are they what bring you happiness?
To be able to enjoy the small things in life...sometimes he forgets how easily they can be taken for granted.
Wei Wuxian‘s breath hitches when Lan Wangji glances up mid-bite, cheeks stuffed. He blinks, peering at him through his lashes.
My god. He’s too much.
Lan Wangji looks away then, chewing with more reserve as though embarrassed he was caught.
“Lan Zhan,” he coaxes, playful. “Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about sweets?”
He receives a chilly look in return, but it doesn’t hold quite the same effect when his cheeks are bulging, half-finished bun cradled in his hands.
Wei Wuxian is trying so hard not to crack.
When Lan Wangji finishes, he dabs his mouth with a napkin before thanking him almost in reluctance.
This guy...what do you have to be embarrassed about.
“Hm, I understand. I think I’ll have to remember Lan Zhan likes custard buns from now on,” flicks his gaze to him artfully, “that way maybe this poor servant will have a chance at protecting himself if his boss wishes to throttle him.”
Truthfully, the other looks fairly keen on the idea now.
Wei Wuxian loses it, nose scrunching in his delight. He points. “That’s the face I’m talking about!”
Rolling his eyes, Lan Wangji mutters, “Boring.”
Deciding he’s unworthy of his time, he returns to jotting down notes. Wei Wuxian watches him, because maybe this is the first time it’s felt permissible. And because maybe with this person in front of him, it’s like his senses have been arrested.
This friend...it really does seem as though he could be from out of this world, huh?
Wei Wuxian laughs softly to himself.
What a loss for this world, it would be.
He allows one final glance, noting the deep furrow of those brows—attention devoted entirely to words scrawled on a page.
Perhaps Mianmian wasn’t kidding when she said he didn’t do things half-heartedly. Instead of the grievance it may have once filled him with, there’s a kernel of fondness.
He supposes a sense of camaraderie really does soften the soul.
Wading in this tenuous thing, Wei Wuxian resolves to nurture it. With the hope that one day, this too may thrive.
It’s starting to feel well worth the effort.
“Wei Wuxian.” Spoken so quietly, he thinks he’s imagined it.
Then he notices Lan Wangji’s eyes on him, far more present and expressive than he’s given credit for and for the second time that day, he’s at a loss.
Lan Zhan, you’re a whirlwind aren’t you.
His mouth opens and closes, helpless to look away, instead tracking the minute changes in the other’s expression. He stares, enraptured, and wonders if it shows because Lan Wangji’s eyes flash then, lips parting.
Wei Wuxian exhales roughly, strangely winded. He doesn’t lower his gaze.
Lan Wangji is the one to do so.
And the resulting feeling in his gut goes unacknowledged. He smiles tightly instead, nonchalant.
“I...”
This is the first he’s seen Lan Wangji grapple with words. He might enjoy it more if he weren’t still clinging to a thread of disappointment.
He retracts his statement. Pathetic, he’s certainly not above it.
Evidently he’s having an off day and his mind is out of sorts. The sleep deprivation must be getting to him; he’ll fix that starting tonight.
Whatever reservations Lan Wangji may have had, he seems to regain his composure within the next breath.
“Wei Wuxian. I’ll take my leave first.”
“Hah, really...that fast?”
“I have prior commitments,” he explains, stilted.
“Oh..alright.”
Wei Wuxian watches him pack his belongings, feeling strangely bereft of all things.
Wei Wuxian, are you dull in the head? It’s not like he’s leaving for good and you won’t see him again for years.
“Lan Zhan,” he says, halting the other as he rises.
Lan Wangji regards him curiously, eyes dark and expansive like an ocean’s depth. Wei Wuxian’s words disintegrate on his tongue. Staring up at him, the only question which seems to come to the forefront of his mind is will I see you again...would that be ok?
How utterly aggravating.
He vows not to take his beauty sleep so lightly from now on. The repercussions are surprisingly severe!
“Ah,” he rubs at the back of his head, bashful all of a sudden. “Thank you...for your company today.”
Lan Wangji’s eyes widen, and he looks at him almost uncomprehendingly. Wei Wuxian nearly laughs at that, and at the same time it fills him with an inexplicable twinge of sadness.
Lan Zhan, are these words truly so shocking.
Then again, wasn’t Wei Wuxian himself questioning who would elect to spend time with Lan Wangji not too long ago.
Character development, he assures himself.
He smiles. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”
If it comes out slightly more hopeful than inquisitive, well, that once again can be attributed to his general lack of sleep.
Lan Wangji doesn’t confirm it. Nor does he refuse him either though, so he takes that as an encouraging sign. He merely watches him—a combination of scrutiny, apprehension and something else, but he can’t say definitively what.
All he knows is that it feels like they’re treading on something thin here. But maybe it’s a step up from the absence of a path they seemed to have before.
His smile widens of its own volition, eyes anticipatory as he continues watching him.
“I—“ says Lan Wangji, swallowing thickly before giving an imperceptible nod. “Thank you...for the bun.”
And though Wei Wuxian thinks there’s still something guarded about him, his posture stiff, the stoicism he’s used to seeing in that gaze now seems lessened. Like a chink in his armor.
The next breath he takes feels lighter. His lips stretch, teeth peeking and it’s a bit silly, isn’t it? Deriving this much satisfaction from that alone, but considering how slim of a chance he believed they had at even acquaintanceship—this prospect feels strangely validating.
“Mm,” he nods, eyes creasing in mirth. “Lan Zhan, take care!”
Waving perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, he giggles at his antics. Over the top, aren’t you?
Lan Wangji pauses, reading him before eventually nodding once more. With his bag slung over his shoulder and to-go packet in hand, Wei Wuxian thinks he makes quite the sight.
His smile softens. “Until next time, Lan Zhan.”
“Goodbye...Wei Ying.”
Then he’s turning to leave and Wei Wuxian definitely does not watch him go. Doesn’t gawk, admiring the set of those shoulders (and what he knows spans them) or the cut of his waist, and most certainly not the way those slacks seem to hug his ass exquisitely—
He groans, facepalming.
Indecent! Wei Wuxian, pull. Yourself. Together!
Letting out a puff of air, he rubs at his temples in vain, a soft amituofo whispered under his breath. He’s not sure how effective that’ll be though, considering he’s pretty sure he’s going to hell.
An image of Lan Zhan flushed, looking up at him through his lashes comes to mind again and he whines.
Definitely going to hell.
He smacks his face—lightly, because he made a promise—and runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up.
Stop. It.
Sighing, he buries his face in his hands. He’s sure he must make quite the spectacle but that’s neither here nor there at present moment.
Deciding he’s unlikely to get much work done at this point, he begins putting his things away. He frowns, realizing he’s yet again made little progress on Mingjue’s commission.
Tomorrow is another day, he consoles himself.
Then smiles when he recalls the way Lan Zhan had looked with his cheeks protruding.
This kid, he has a bit of a cute side doesn’t he?
God, Wen Qing would surely laugh herself to death if she could hear his thoughts. Mianmian, too. The vaguely sadistic duo that they are.
However, he finds himself strangely unbothered by that.
Lan Zhan—
Wei Wuxian thinks they might have a real shot at being friends. And that’s as comforting as it is unnerving, he finds.
Because the longer he thinks on it, the more he realizes he doesn’t want to blow it.
And isn’t that a thought.
He chuckles, convinced he’s in dire need of rest now. The thoughts his brain is capable of producing while deprived.
Not a good look, Wei Wuxian.
Definitely time for him to leave.
It isn’t until he’s making his way home that realization dawns on him. It’s enough to still him in his tracks, something unnamed finding space and taking root.
That’s the first time he’s called me Wei Ying.