Chapter Text
How long had it been since he had been laid out in bed like this? It couldn’t have been that long, perhaps a few months? It had to have been when his hand was crushed. There is something nostalgic about laying in bed while he listens to Lan Xichen putter about the room. Of course, the pain Jin Guangyao finds himself in is horrible, but any moment he gets to listen to his er-ge hum softly as he does… whatever is a moment worth remembering. It means he’s here . He’s alive, he succeeded. And Xichen still likes him. This was far better than he could have hoped for.
“A-Yao should eat.” Xichen finally speaks up as he approaches the bed, a tray in hand; “He needs his strength.” Is that pride in his voice? Perhaps his brother is proud he made it this far. Xichen just tends to sound like that around him, it seems. A misplaced pride . He takes a deep breath and attempts to pull himself up to sit properly, only stopping at the searing pain in his chest. “Ah, let me…” Xichen sets the tray on the nearby table and helps him sit up. His hands are so kind and warm on Jin Guangyao’s back, large enough to cover a large portion of the small of his back. He could get used to these casual touches… Once he’s properly sitting, his brother sets the tray across his lap.
The food before him his far more aromatic than Lan sect food. He knows that. Did er-ge go into town to get me food?... His hands shake as he picks up his spoon, though that could be blamed on his wounds. His left hand is not as strong as his right hand, but even using it the entire time since his right was crushed, he hadn’t shaken like this. He’d dropped food sometimes, yes, wrote something slightly wrong with a brush, yes, but this weakness is new. Even still, he attempts to eat. He’ll just power through it, he reasons.
“A-yao?” Xichen’s hand comes to cover his right before he drops the spoon, taking the weight off his hand; “I should have known.. Allow er-ge to help.” Xichen’s offer is firm. Kind but firm. Does he still feel guilty? No. He must just want to help. Xichen is always the type of help, he leaps at the chance to assist his brothers.
“I can feed myself, er-ge.” he tries, earning a small frown (and the tiniest pinch of the brow! Lan Xichen, take mercy!); “..... If you insist.” It’s easier to just let it happen. Physically easier to let Lan Xichen take the spoon and dip it into the bowl and catch a wonton. It is, however, mortifyingly hard on Jin Guangyao’s pride when his er-ge lifts the spoon to his lips. He accepts the small mercy of his er-ge being perhaps the kindest (and seemingly most oblivious) person in existence and allows him to feed him.
Somehow, time seems to simultaneously move slow and fast. Time seems to crawl in the moment, but a glance down at the tray shocks him in how much he has eaten. They are nearly done with the stir fry when he can’t help but smile at his er-ge’s intent gaze.
“What’s wrong, er-ge?” he asks.
“Nothing. Does A-Yao like his food?” Xichen asks with… what seems to be hope? Of course it’s hope.
“Mn, I do. Er-ge has spoiled me. Again.” he teases with a smile; “I did not know er-ge could cook.” Xichen looks momentarily shocked before having the decency to give an embarrassed smile.
“A-Yao is so observant. How did he know?” his er-ge asks.
“Xichen likes his tofu fried soft.” he remembers everything his brother likes, of course. Xichen always likes his tofu softly fried. He always eats it faster when it’s soft than when it is fried to be crispy.
“Ah… And A-Yao likes his tofu crisp… Perhaps next time.” Xichen nods, seeming to take note. It must be hard to have to put effort into remembering such things… He could easily list how the great Zewu-jun likes his food prepared. Hell, he likely could cook it all himself. Next time?
This is mortifying. Nie Mingjue’s stare will never be anything less than intense, and Jin Guangyao has to admit that his first brother’s attention as he attempts to eat is terribly embarrassing. Er-ge must have said something to him . The sharp glint of his eyes is almost enough to hide the concern, or perhaps care, Jin Guangyao can see there. To the untrained eye, his da-ge is glaring at him, but the smaller man can’t help but feel scrutinized under that caring stare.
The tofu in his chopsticks falls back down into the bowl again before he can eat it. Nie Mingjua rises and comes over to the bed with a scowl on his face. There’s never not a scowl on his face when their er-ge isn’t around. There is still an edge of unease in Jin Guangyao at that scowl, seated deeply from their time together so long ago, but he can’t help the mortification that makes him more uneasy now. He feels infinitely smaller in front of his da-ge like this. Having gotten so wounded in front of the man at the temple and still suffering from it feels…. Bad? Nie Mingjue can seemingly shake off any wound and yet here he is laying in bed with his chest cavity crushed and unable to use one of his hands.
“Stop that.” Nie Mingjue’s voice can easily cut through his thoughts, still stiff and stern but without the spiteful edge it once had; “Stop thinking.” He says like it’s easy.
“Mn, da-ge knows I cannot do that.” he says back simply, forcing himself to not flinch when those large hands take the bowl and chopsticks from him (Xichen fussed when he almost spilled his food on himself before, mostly joking when he said he’d have to give Meng Yao a bowl instead of a plate.)
“Xichen wasn’t kidding when he said you were hurt.” Nie Mingjue says like it makes sense . Which it doesn’t . Of course he’s hurt. Does… Da-ge mean Xichen told him he was too weak to do anything? That hurts his heart. He knows Xichen knows he is trying but… There’s only so much he can do. He’s not a big powerful cultivator like the two of them. His body is slight and weak already.
“I said stop that .” His da-ge sits heavily on the bed, frowning as he picks up a piece of tofu and cabbage with the chopsticks. Oh no . The back of his mind says. Oh no the front of his mind echoes. He obediently opens his mouth when the food is brought to it and he eats the morsel. I’m going to die. Da-ge finally got his wish from so long ago. “Don’t make that face at me.”
“Da-ge doesn’t have to.” he tries, cut off when his first brother shoves more food in his mouth. He just stays quiet as his first brother feeds him, keeping his gaze low at the far corner of his room.
“You let Er-ge, why are you pouting now?” Nie Mingjue huffs.
“Er-ge would pout if I told him no.” Which is true, but not exactly the reason he didn’t stop the man. Luckily, his da-ge is kind enough to completely brush past all of it. It spares them both the mortification.
“You better get used to it. He’s busy all week so you’re stuck with me.” Xichen is busy all week? Why didn’t he- He didn’t want his a-Yao to worry. Right. He’s supposed to be in hiding. He must still be flushing out the spies in the Lanling Jin sect… Perhaps this is one of the few times he wishes his er-ge had slightly less of a spine. If he’d have just let Jin Guangyao help, he’d know directly who the spies were. But no, no work while their didi is recovering.
“You’re bad at following instructions.” Is… Da-ge teasing him? Surely I did die then. This cannot be real .
“Da-ge is one to talk.” If he’s already dead, that means he can be snarky too, right?