Chapter Text
Lan Zhan made him stay home for days, and Lan Huan did not have the strength to argue. He did not mind anyway, not when Lan Zhan was home too.
He shared his bed whenever Wei Ying could not stay the night, and some nights, the only way he could fall asleep was hearing his brother’s heartbeat against his ear.
It was a miracle that Lan Huan had gotten through the ordeal with nothing more than bruises, a cut cheek and a long scratch that hurt every time he rolled over. He spent his days lying on the sofa, staring at his phone until Lan Zhan eventually took it away and made him eat.
Mingjue had not called. To Lan Zhan, it only appeared as if Lan Huan was worried because of Mingjue’s mysterious stalker, not because he had been stabbed. He had not heard from Nie Mingjue since the day he left their apartment talking about that strange car.
“Have you tried calling him?” Lan Zhan asked quietly, the sofa sinking with his weight. He stroked Lan Huan’s hair gently and Lan Huan leaned against his chest, closing his eyes.
“He’s not answering,” he whispered. “I’ve left messages but nothing.”
“Maybe he’s not looking at his phone,” Lan Zhan soothed. “I’ve sent Wei Ying to his place and his brother said that he’s fine, but do you want to go to his home? I can walk you there.”
“Mn.”
Lan Huan moved woodenly, Lan Zhan helping him slide into his coat. He stood still as a scarf was wrapped around his neck, before his brother nudged him out of the apartment.
There was a bite in the air when they emerged out onto the street, and Lan Huan sucked in a sharp breath, nearly walking straight into a passerby before Lan Zhan pulled him aside.
“Where’s Wei Ying?” Lan Huan asked, trying to make conversation. He thought Wei Ying would have trouble leaving Lan Zhan after everything that had happened.
“Working,” Lan Zhan said, pushing the button for the pedestrian crossing. He glanced at the sky and Lan Huan shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered.
“Mn. Wei Ying said he made you promise,” Lan Zhan said, gripping Lan Huan’s elbow.
“You’re not angry?”
“Could never be angry,” Lan Zhan said. “Wei Ying wanted to keep us safe.”
He levelled Lan Huan a look that made Lan Huan bite his lip and drop his head.
“But Ge should have told me about Chifengzun.”
“I’m sorry,” Lan Huan sighed. “But it would never have lasted. I just wanted–.”
He stopped himself mid-sentence, and Lan Zhan steered him away from knocking into yet another passer-by, putting himself between Lan Huan and the street.
“I thought I was in love with Chifengzun,” Lan Huan said lowly. “But I’m also in love with Mingjue and it’s such a mess, Didi. I don’t know what to do.”
Lan Zhan hummed, but said nothing as they approached the Nie’s apartment. The doorman nodded at them, evidently recognizing Lan Huan.
Lan Huan fidgeted, toying with the hem of his sweater when Lan Zhan rang the doorbell, his heart picking up speed when he heard footsteps.
Nie Huaisang yanked open the door and blinked at them, tilting his head in confusion.
“Huan ge? Zhan ge? Why are you here?”
“Is Mingjue home?” Lan Huan asked, fretting with a little thread that had come loose from his sweater. “He hasn’t been answering my calls and I’m just worried.”
Nie Huaisang’s expression darkened, and he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Huan ge. But Da Ge’s not home. He’s on a business trip.”
He started to close the door, but Lan Huan lurched forward, grabbing Huaisang by the shoulder.
“I know who he is, A-Sang, please. I just want to see him.”
Huaisang backed away, looking utterly confused.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Huan ge. Da ge’s gone on a work trip. I don’t know when he’ll be back. I have to get back to work now, have a good day.”
With that, he shut the door in Lan Huan’s face, the lock clicking derisively.
Lan Huan’s shoulders slumped, and he looked at Lan Zhan with such a crestfallen expression that his brother wrapped his arm around him and squeezed. He did not even have the appetite when Lan Zhan offered to get him a donut from the shop on their way home, staring gloomily at the café as Lan Zhan paid for three donuts.
“Wei Ying will eat two,” he said as he took Lan Huan by the arm. “Let’s go home, Ge.”
Lan Huan crawled back into bed the moment they were home, and Lan Zhan let him be, coming in only to set down a mug of tea that went untouched on the dresser. He tried Nie Mingjue’s number again at some point, nearly crying from frustration when he only reached the dial tone.
Angry and hurt, Lan Huan sent him a text.
I’ll be at our spot tonight, Chifengzun. See you there.
He tossed his phone into his bedside drawer and rolled over, taking an unplanned nap that left him groggy and irritable when Lan Zhan came to wake him for dinner.
“Ge needs to eat,” Lan Zhan said, shaking Lan Huan gently when he grumbled. “Just some soup. Wei Ying brought over his A-Jie’s soup.”
“M’ not hungry,” Lan Huan mumbled, but got up anyway when Lan Zhan pouted at him. He could never resist his brother for very long.
The soup was delicious, as he had expected but Lan Huan did not have much of an appetite. He ate as much as he could stomach and excused himself to the rooftop garden and tend to the herbs that were really on their last legs. He pulled out the saddest looking plants and watered the others before settling down to wait.
Lan Huan had no idea how long he sat there, clutching his mug of tea, hoping, and praying for the thump that had become familiar by now. Lan Zhan even came out at one point, frowning before he took Lan Huan’s cup to refill it, carefully wrapping Lan Huan’s fingers around the cup when he returned.
“Gege should not stay out too long,” Lan Zhan said once he was certain Lan Huan had something warm to drink. “It’s cold out.”
“Mn,” Lan Huan bowed his head, taking a sip of his tea. He shivered once the door had closed behind Lan Zhan and placed his face over the steam rising from the cup.
It had been hours now, and Lan Huan was starting to wonder if he had been wrong. Had he wanted Mingjue so badly that he hallucinated the tattoo? Perhaps Chifengzun was angry at him; he had been stabbed because of him after all. Lan Huan drained the rest of his tea and set it down, pulling his sleeves over his hands in an effort to keep them warm.
Winter was well on its way, and his teeth chattered when a crisp wind blew through, ruffling his hair, and snatching at the edges of his thin sweater. He was beginning to think that he had made a mistake. Perhaps Mingjue really was on a business trip and forgot to inform him. Lan Huan would not know. He had left his phone in his bedside drawer.
Lan Huan bowed his head, gritting his teeth when another gust of wind bit into his bones. He could not sit out here all night. Lan Zhan would be furious if he did.
The thump nearly snatched all the breath from his lungs. Lan Huan looked up, wide eyed and leapt to his feet when he saw the familiar hulking shadow.
“You!” he cried, his shoes slapping against the concrete as he ran across the roof. Chifengzun opened his mouth, but Lan Huan did not let him speak. He yanked him into a hug, only relenting when he heard him wince. “Oh, I’ll kill you, Nie Mingjue. I was scared out of my mind, and you never called me back. I thought you were dead. And your brother wouldn’t let me see you. Two weeks. You were gone for two weeks! I–.”
His voice cracked and a sob spilled out. Tears streaked down his face and then Mingjue was hugging him, holding him against his chest with his face in his hair.
“I’m sorry,” Mingjue whispered, holding Lan Huan like he was something precious and Lan Huan thumped him hard on the chest, earning him a grimace before Mingjue drew him closer and simply held him until the tears ran out.
“Your poor hands are so cold, Lan Huan,” Mingjue said as Lan Huan sniffled, gripping Lan Huan’s wrists gently. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket, you silly goose? You’re freezing.”
“I wouldn’t be cold if you didn’t make me wait for you, asshole,” Lan Huan choked out, but the bite to his tone was lost when he looped his arms around Mingjue’s neck and hugged him again, burying his face into his shoulder. Mingjue’s arms wrapped around his waist, and Lan Huan wanted to stay like that forever, enveloped in Mingjue’s embrace.
“I’m sorry,” Mingjue said, hooking his chin over Lan Huan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lan Huan whispered. “I kissed you. Every night.”
“Not every night,” Mingjue corrected, and Lan Huan whacked him again. “Ow.”
He sighed and Lan Huan took the opportunity to push his cold nose into the crook of Mingjue’s neck, clinging tightly. Mingjue wrapped his cloak around them both and squeezed Lan Huan hard before pulling away, leaving the cloak draped around Lan Huan’s shoulders.
“I was afraid,” Mingjue admitted, his thumb warm as it trailed over Lan Huan’s cheekbone. Lan Huan leaned into the touch, his lashes fluttering. “I was afraid you were only in love with the mystery and allure of Chifengzun. And not me, Nie Mingjue. I couldn’t lose you like that, Lan Huan. I didn’t date anyone because the only one I ever wanted was you. And if the only way I could have you was as Chifengzun, so be it.”
Lan Huan stared back at him, incredulous.
“We’re both idiots,” he murmured, thumbing over the seam of Mingjue’s lips. “Total, oblivious idiots.”
Mingjue opened his mouth to protest but Lan Huan silenced him with a look.
“I’ve been in love with you for years, Nie Mingjue. Chifengzun was wonderful, but only because he reminded me so much of you.”
Mingjue stared at him in wonder, and Lan Huan traced the line where his mask met skin with shaking hands. He could not quite believe he got to have this, both Chifengzun and Nie Mingjue, because they were one and the same.
“May I kiss you?” Mingjue asked, breathy and Lan Huan laughed.
“Since when do you ask? You’ve always– mph!”
The kiss stole all the air from his lungs. Mingjue was everywhere, his arm wrapped around Lan Huan’s waist, one hand cupped against his cheek. Lan Huan kissed him back, gasping when Mingjue deepened the kiss, fingers trailing through Mingjue’s hair.
The sound of a throat clearing made them leap apart, and Lan Huan spun to see Wei Ying leaning against the doorway, watching them with a smile.
“I’m glad you figured it out, Huan ge,” he said. “It was getting really terrible to see all that pining.”
Lan Huan rolled his eyes, flushing when Mingjue pulled him close, pressing his lips to Lan Huan’s hair fondly.
“Does this mean we can finally go on that double date?” Wei Ying asked and Mingjue laughed, stroking Lan Huan’s face.
“How are you going to tell Lan Zhan?” he asked. “Are you going to tell him?”
“He’s my Didi, Mingjue,” Lan Huan said at once. “I can’t hide things from him.”
“Lan Zhan already knows about me,” Wei Ying said, shuffling his feet. “I suppose one more wouldn’t hurt?”
Mingjue sighed deeply, squeezing Lan Huan close.
“I’m going to die,” he said mournfully, staring up at the stars. “Lan Zhan is never going to forgive me for being the reason his brother was nearly killed.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Lan Huan scolded, poking him hard in the chest. “I’m going inside. It’s too cold to be standing out here.”
He entered the living room and Mingjue followed him, looking comically large in his vigilante costume.
“How did you know it was me?” Mingjue asked as Lan Huan went straight to the kitchen to make another cup of tea, just in time for Lan Zhan to poke his head out of his room.
“Ge–?” He froze when his eyes landed on Nie Mingjue, a flurry of conflicting expressions flitting across his face. “You.”
“Ah, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I suppose we should introduce you.”
Lan Zhan’s nostrils flared, and he stepped out of his room, his expression settling on cold and murderous. Lan Huan hurried to grab his wrist, fearful that his little brother might launch himself at Mingjue and pummel his face in.
“There’s no need,” Mingjue said, and he lifted his mask. Lan Zhan’s eyes widened, and he looked from Mingjue to Lan Huan before yanking himself free.
“A-Zhan, no–!”
The crack rang through the air and Lan Huan flinched, hurrying over to grab Lan Zhan’s hand before he could strike him again.
“Fuck,” Mingjue grimaced. “You’ve still got a good punch, kid. That hurt.”
“Gege was pining for you,” Lan Zhan hissed even as Lan Huan dragged him back, Lan Huan’s face flaming. “You left him on read for two weeks!”
“To be fair, I was stabbed,” Mingjue said, rubbing his cheek where Lan Zhan had hit him. “Twice.”
Lan Huan flinched and let go of Lan Zhan to step forward, raising a hand to rest on Mingjue’s chest.
“Is it still bad?” he asked, worrying his lower lip. “Take off your armour and let me see.”
“It’s fine, Lan Huan. I’ve got a good doctor,” Mingjue said, keeping a wary eye on Lan Zhan who looked like he might hit him again, if Wei Ying had not made his way over to his side and was whispering into his ear. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You got stabbed for me,” Lan Huan said, raising his hand to touch the bruise that was slowly forming on Mingjue’s cheekbone before heading into the kitchen to fetch an ice pack. “And punched.”
“What did I tell you about your brother?” Mingjue joked, raising both hands in surrender when Lan Zhan glared harder. “Ah, don’t kill me, A-Zhan.”
“You can’t kill him, A-Zhan,” Lan Huan said, holding the ice pack to Mingjue’s cheek. “I love him.”
He looked at Mingjue as he ushered him to the couch, brushing a lock of hair behind Mingjue’s ear before pressing a kiss to his other cheek.
“You knew it was him,” Lan Zhan said, frowning.
“Only on the day he saved me,” Lan Huan admitted, trailing his hand down the front of Mingjue’s leathery armour. “I cut open his armour and saw his tattoo. I never would have known otherwise.”
“Did you ever find out who was following you? And why we were taken?” Lan Zhan asked, his curiosity overtaking his anger as Wei Ying guided him to the other side of the couch.
“That Yao guy,” Mingjue said, wincing when Lan Huan adjusted the ice pack. “I think I saved him once before. He grew obsessed.”
Wei Ying shuddered as he reached for the mug of tea Lan Huan had left abandoned on the coffee table.
“Crazy, I’ll tell you that much,” he said. “When we raided his home, we found his walls basically papered over with Chifengzun’s face. And half a section dedicated to Huan ge.”
“He knew?” Lan Huan asked, his heart twinging. He had liked Meng Yao, as a friend and seeing him on that rooftop so unhinged had scared him almost as much as being pushed over the edge of the building.
“I think he was developing an obsession over you before he found out Mingjue ge was Chifengzun. After that, it turned into jealousy,” Wei Ying said, leaning back into Lan Zhan’s arms. “He wanted Da ge’s attention. All of it. And his heart too, probably.”
“Too bad my heart’s already been given,” Mingjue said, turning away from the ice pack to kiss Lan Huan’s cheek.
Lan Huan blushed, pressing the ice pack a little harder against Mingjue’s bruise until he winced and raised his hands in surrender.
“You will take care of him,” Lan Zhan said, his face returning to looking mutinous.
“Mingjue has always taken care of me,” Lan Huan said fondly, but he was smiling. Lan Zhan was adorable when he got overprotective.
“If you ever hurt him again,” Lan Zhan continued and Mingjue bowed his head. “No one will ever find your body.”
“Aiyo, Lan Zhan. You’re a law enforcement officer,” Wei Ying chided. “You can’t go around threatening murder.”
“Then Da ge should do well to remember my words,” Lan Zhan declared. “For I can legally carry a gun.”
“A-Zhan!” Lan Huan gasped, hiding his laugh in his hand. “For shame!”
“I will,” Mingjue said, taking the ice pack from Lan Huan’s hand. He pressed his lips to Lan Huan’s forehead and something in Lan Huan’s chest unravelled and melted away. “I won’t ever let him get hurt for me again.”