Chapter Text
".... You bought him finger paint?" there was something mumbled on the other line, "what do you MEAN you found oil-based finger paint??? A-Xian. I love you. But you are not allowed to gift my son anything you wouldn't be comfortable with him using on your husband's white sofas because that's the only place he'll be allowed to use them."
"Yes I know you are an artist. But we both know you did just fine with kid's paint until...." she sighs, "Please just send him home with something I can wash off next time, okay? He can use whatever you'd like at your house, near your A-Zhan's unnecessarily white sofa, with gloves and a smock on. And you can give them both baths after. But you don't send him home with anything that won't wash out of his plush toys, deal?"
Mingjue dabbed harder at the stuffed dog's ear, the tip of it's head flooded in a mixture of watered down detergent Huaisang told him to use, glad he'd thought to shove the toy's head in the sink before it had a chance to fully dry.
A-Ling was snuffling into his leg, searching for comfort but unwilling to leave his prized Princess' "emergency procedure" zone. He'd gone admirably from wailing to struggling to hold a brave face. It probably didn't help that the paint was bright red and maybe looked like a glob of blood to the toddler's unchecked mind.
Mingjue remembered seeing globs of blood in his childhood, and switched out paper towels to dab even more aggressively at the splotch. He's determined not to stop until the paint comes out, thankful Princess is some form of floofy brown that the red might stand a chance at blending into. He plans to dab just as hard with fabric softener when the pigment's out to prevent awkward, stiff spots on the otherwise soft floof.
"I'm doing everything I can, kid." Mingjue tells A-Ling when he feels a nose rubbing into his pants. They're not his best pants. The old, soft from wear kind that Huaisang would nag him for being seen in publicly, that he'd had to hide in the back of his drawers between luxury workout leggings where his ex couldn't discard them. Perfect for comfy days at home, cooking experiments that splatter, and not scratching tiny faces as they rub snot into the seams.
"Mn." A-Ling sniffles, looking, for all the distinct lack of relation, almost like a tiny Wangji with his serious face through the water work remnants. The sight yanked on Mingjue's already overtaxed heart strings.
He scrubbed a little harder.
Finally, the red began to lift and he was able to work fabric softener into pup's fibers and soak it. Mingjue rinsed the last of the detergents off his arms and dried off like a surgeon scrubbing out, "Well, surgery was a success; he'll need some time to rest, but Fairy's gonna pull through, kid."
A-Ling lifted his head and arms to be picked up and Mingjue bent down so the toddler could propel himself into his arms and cling. "Thank you, Gege!" he cried hugging Mingjue hard.
"Happy to help, kid." he said and meant it. Meng Yao would have asked why he didn't just throw the toy away and buy the kid a new one. Mingjue's heart melted into the hug. It was never wasted effort for moments like this. Moments A-Yao would waste his life missing in striving to curate. Mingjue took in a deep breath, relaxed his shoulders, and squeezed back. As he breathed out, he let his ex's ghost exit the room. He focused instead on the warmth of the tiny body cradled in his pruny hands.
Daycare was always an odd experience for Mingjue. The swarm of parents and tiny humans and toppled toys and backpacks and diaper bags.
He felt out of place in his inability to find his part in the universally choreographed chaos of pick-ups and drop-offs. The concept was simple enough and yet he stood lost in the maelstrom any time he covered for Yanli.
He would stand like an iceberg in the ocean, obstructing maritime traffic and crashing small ships as children clipped his legs and stumbled or fully went to ground, until he was rescued by A-Ling or the lovely young man who ran the large toddler section.
He was paler than expected for someone who spent his days chasing children in the sun and half a head shorter than Mingjue. Full shoulders, leanly muscled frame. Today he had garden daisies and butterfly clips weaved in his long hair courtesy of a rambunctious group of girls who weekly claimed time to play with their teacher's head. The style pulled his face out of it's habitual hiding spot and revealed huge black eyes and the slightest blush cutting across his cheeks and ears. He also had about four children hanging off his arms without breaking stride which Mingjue appreciated for the unintended display of strength it was.
The kid was cute, he thought. Better at dealing with rowdy children than his timid face would suggest.
Yanli had nothing but kind words which was a special type of compliment.
"A-Ning." He greeted when the kid came closer.
M-Mr. Nie," A-Ning greeted back, "S-Special delivery." He said, holding up an arm even higher so Mingjue could claim A-Ling off the end of it.
The kids all giggled being swung around and A-Ling koala'd onto Mingjue with the ease all children shared for limitlessly climbing and holding their bodyweight without thought or effort.
"What do you say?" Mingjue asked, poking A-Ling's cheek.
"That you teacher Wen!" A-Ling squealed.
Wen Ning smiled gently, eyes scrunching more than his mouth, "Of course, A-Ling. Have a good rest of the d-day."
"Mn!" A-Ling nodded very seriously in that curt nod of his jiujiu.
Mingjue 's heart somersaulted. It was too cute! Huaisang was always such a cute child and A-Ling was adorable too! It made Mingjue's mustache twitch as he struggled to maintain his poker face to not embarrass him.
"Thank you, A-Ning." Mingjue smiled, "Anything I should tell A-Li?"
The man shook his head, "A-Ling worked very hard at the alphabet and shapes today."
"I learned a rom-bus" A-Ling stated with a serious furrow of his brow as he focused on pronunciation.
"That square-looking thing?" Mingjue asked.
"No!" A-Ling asserted. "it's a square and it's sideways."
"Ah, I see." Mingjue nodded, "That IS a big difference."
"Mhm!" He nodded back.
"Stop!"
"Nuh uh!"
"Don't touch me"
"You're touching me!" The children on Wen Ning's right arm, a set of slightly older twins, whined.
"Children." Their instructor said in his firm and kind voice, "If you cannot play nicely, I will put you down"
"But!" the boys started.
"Wen Ning simply lowered them both to the ground.
"We're sorry!" The boys yelled, hooking onto Wen Ning's ankles
A-Ning sighed, I sh-should go deposit th-these ones with th-their p-parents." He said, stutter back as sharply as the dusting of blush on his cheeks.
"Of course. Good to see you, A-Ning." Mingjue said. He received a small smile back as the man walked away unhindered by the children clinging to his legs and arm.
Mingjue regretted not springing for ear plugs like A-Cheng suggested. If the flashinf lights and veritable tornado of sounds wasn’t enough to overstimulate him, five minutes of ear-splitting shrieks and a small flood of tears was wearing on his nerves while the stress of being stared at by strangers was…honestly something he’d thought he’d outgrown decades ago. Evidently, the judging eyes of gawking rubberneckers was capable of unlocking an old anxiety Meng Yao could only have aspired to scrape the edges of with his manicured claws.
A-Ling had set his impulsive heart on one of the unwinnable carnival prizes; a giant pink hippopotamus with a rainbow tutu. He insisted he would be Fairy’s new best friend and he would love him for forever. But he couldn’t throw the darts hard enough to do more than bounce off of the balloons, and his mother had given him a set limit of money to spend on games at the traveling carnival. He had a wristband for deathtrap rides and had eaten his fill of cotton candy and elephant ears, but nothing could compare to that monstrous hippo. Truthfully, Mingjue would have been hapy to throw money at the game or simply at the conductor and struggle to fit the damned thing under one arm and A-Ling in the other if it would have brought one moment’s peace and an end to feeling like a side-attraction. But that would undermine A-Li who was pefectly capable of throwing her own money at the situation.
“You’ve got to wait him out,” she had told him the singular other time he’d seen A-Ling have a mini meltdown over dropping his icecream on the floor. They’d helped him clean it up and fix a new bowl once he was able to use his words again. “Children need to self-regulate and learn to respect the word “no” or they turn into selfish monsters.” She’d declared.
Mingjue raised an eyebrow at that. They both knew that she and every other adult around A-Ling loved to over-indulge him.
“Oh hush! There’s a difference in spoilling a child with love and teaching them boundaries.” She’d said, swatting his arm.
He tried to hold onto that, the importance of boundaries. He pictured A-Ling all grown up and clinging to his mother’s arm, begging for a new car or pocket money. The tone was frighteningly similar to Huaisang’s behavior just last week when he’d asked for a raise in his trust fund allowance. Mingjue winced and rubbed at his ear. The screaming was now inching toward the ten minute mark and his head was starting to ring.
Yanli sighed, “That’s it.” She said and scooped her son up by the ankles. The woman held her child out, away from her body like a bag of unwanted trash and began to lightly shake him. Mingjue’s first thought was to be impressed by the stability and form in her lift and was quickly overwhelmed by horror.
“Stop that!” He waved his hands about, unsure if he should support A-Ling’s head or snatch him away altogehter. "It’s dangerous???” he asked, confused both by her actions and the peels of giggles that erupted out of the boy’s upsidedown mouth.
Yanli shook him a bit longer then flipped him right side up and pulled him in. “Finished, then?”
“Mn! Sorry, momma!” The boy cuddled into her neck.
She kissed his head, “I accept your apology.” She told him.
“Again, again!” he squealed. Yanli rolled her eyes and fixed her hold on his knees as her son free-fell backwards and upside down once more.
“Uh” Mingjue said.
“It’s hardly ever real.” Yanli told him. “Usually he’ll calm down on his own, but if he can’t then, well. This is how I can tell. Usually he starts laughing. But if it’s real he’ll keep crying.”
“Don’t you feel bad when it’s real?”
“Yes, but only a little for how often it’s really not.” She said, flipping her son rightside up again and continuing as though nothing ever happened.
“A-Li” “do we need more onion powder?” Mingjue asks. They’re having a perfectly pleasant day shopping for groceries together. Mingjue helps carry anything that doesn’t balance in the baby stroller’s storage slot in exchange for cooking lessons from the woman who earned her restaurant one of its Michelin stars. He wasn’t specifically a bad cook, but she’d offered when he’d started looking into cooking classes to finally shut Huaisang and Zonghui up about his home-chef origins of burnt spaghetti and deli sandwiches.
“No, but we will need more peppercorn and garlic.” She tells him while readjusting her son’s toy dog, “Make sure you hold onto princess with two hands, A-Ling.”
“Mn!” The boy agrees, securing his grip on his favorite stuffie.
“We’ll also need more rice and glutinous rice flour, and some cooking wine.” She tells him. It’s a nicer store. An Asian Market since they’re focusing on comfort food this week. Last week was pasta and next week will probably involve some kind of roast or stew depending on the meat sales. It’s been a really lovely way to spend time. His therapist has been proud of him for trying new things and making connections. He’s geeling grunded and rooted in ways that feel right for him. Xichen has even teased him for seeming relaxed and Old Man Qiren gave him a nod and a shoulder pat last time they met in passing which must stand for something.
The sky had big lazy white clouds and clear patches of blue when they came in. If the weather remains perfect after lunch, they can take Baxia for a walk before they lose the night to cooking together. It’s a perfect day and it feels so peaceful until a light cream suit rounds the dairy corner with that tacky fucking hat sitting atop a head of glossy black hair. Mingjue’s jaw tenses and he exhales through his nose. He briefly wonders if he should shove A-Li and A-Ling into the oil asile and grab the largest, most breakable bottle he can find before commiting homicide in the frozen section, maybe stuffing the body behind the rest of the pigs and hoping it would be discarded with the other rancid produce past its’ date. Instead, the sane part of his brain turns his full attention towards the bottles of hoisin and fish sauce like they might have the answers to why his ex decided to come shopping at this store of ll stores on this day of all days. At the least, he could probably blend into the shelving. His brown slacks and deep green shirt had to somewhat blend in with the dark sauces, right?
Later, he will remember that A-Li had also gone stiff at the classic Jin nose and the gaudy golden buttondown with the stupid carp tie clip. For now, all Mingjue can foocus on is setting the bottle in his hand delicately into their cart before his grip explodes the fish sauce and scares A-Ling.
Mingjue stands even taller and becomes a wall. If the devil with dimples insists on ruining his day, the least he can do is shield his friends from the interaction.
“Ah, Ming-ge. Fancy meeting you here!” Meng Yao says, sickly sweet and flashing those rage-inducing dimples. How the hell Mingjue ever fell for them is beyond him.
“Leave” he growls.
“Now, now, Ming-Ge! You wouldn’t want to set a bad impression for your family now, would you?” Meng Yao’s eyes are glaring hard as though he could somehow be hurt by the interaction, “Really, I didn’t think you had it in you! A child on the side? How boring.”
“Don’t you dare!” Mingjue growls, tightening his grip on the stroller to the point that it creaks. He can feel Yanli’s hand gently touch his and his body relaxes just a little.
Mingjue turns just enough to talk to them and lowers his voice, “You two go ahead, oka? I’ll catch up.”
“Are you sure?” Yanli asks, searching his eyes.
“Please. A-Ling really doesn’t need to be here for this.” He murmers.
“Alright.” She says and breaks away down an aisle.
He turns back to see those calculating eyes following the Jiangs and it makes his skin crawl. “The fuck do you want?”
“Temper, temper, Da-ge! You’ll put yourself in a hospital at this rate.” And there it is again, Meng Yao’s smirk. “I was just thinking how funny it was that you could judge my tryst when all this time you’ve been whorring around with a second family. And here I thought I knew you.”
“He isn’t mine.” Mingjue blurts out, so disgusted with the thought of being compared to Meng Yao on any level that he can’t help it. “He’s wonderful, but he isn’t mine. And neither is she.”
Meng Yao leans over and looks past Mingjue who moves to block them from view but it’s too late; whatever he’s seen makes his eyes go wide and his face pale ever so slightly.
“Whatever you think you’re fucking doing, leave them the hell alone.”
“Or what, Da-ge?” The smirk was back. “What if I bother with your dull little girlfriend?”
Mingjue’s mouth twisted up into snarl, “You even look at them with your bastard eyes and I’ll fucking end you. Get the hell out of my life.” Mingjue turned and left to find A-Li. He didn’t like how his ex had been looking at her. It couldn’t mean anything good.