Chapter Text
When Jiang Cheng boards the bus to return to Gusu, the entire bus starts catcalling and hollering.
Jiang Cheng can feel his cheeks heat as he quickly slides into the first empty row he sees, cursing himself for being so reckless with Nie Mingjue. In the light of day, he can’t believe he was so shameless; he knows what it must have looked like, him grinding on top of Nie Mingjue in the hot tub where everyone could see them. And he hadn’t even cared, had asked for more and only stopped when Nie Mingjue had made him. He tilts his head down to hide under the brim of his bucket hat.
Even that mortification, though, can’t fully quash the swooping, giddy joy in his stomach as he remembers the feeling of Nie Mingjue’s arms around him and the way Nie Mingjue had said he liked Jiang Cheng so simply, the words an easy truth.
Another round of whoops starts when Nie Mingjue gets on the bus. This time, Jiang Cheng thinks he hears a “get it” and he sinks even further into his seat.
Nie Mingjue doesn’t seem embarrassed though; he just casually flips everyone off and takes the seat next to Jiang Cheng. His easy dismissal of the others on the bus bolsters Jiang Cheng, makes him think that maybe he could do that too.
“Good morning.” Nie Mingjue’s smile is so bright and beautiful that Jiang Cheng nearly forgets the remnants of his unease. “Is this seat taken?”
Jiang Cheng clicks his tongue, tries not to grin back at Nie Mingjue like an idiot, and fails.
Nie Mingjue leans in for a kiss, which Jiang Cheng returns quickly before pulling back. He wants to, it’s all he’s been able to think about, but…
“Wait,” he says, and Nie Mingjue pauses. “Not here. Everyone can see us.”
Nie Mingjue frowns.
“I just mean,” Jiang Cheng clarifies, “everyone already thinks we…”
Nie Mingjue leans back in his seat. “I wouldn’t worry about them. That’s just how people act with couples on the ski trip.”
Nie Mingjue hesitates. “Do you wish we hadn’t? Last night?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head vigorously, flushing with the memory of how very much he’s glad that they did. “No, that’s not it. I just… wish everyone else would shut up.”
Nie Mingjue nods, but he’s still frowning. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to explain how last night had felt like it was something special, just for the two of them. But that’s not Nie Mingjue’s fault and he doesn’t want Nie Mingjue thinking it is or that he’s ashamed of anything but how quickly he managed to forget himself last night.
He remembers what Wen Qing said about love languages and decides it’s his turn to start reciprocating. With a deep breath, he leans against Nie Mingjue a little.
“Hey,” Jiang Cheng asks shyly, “can I use you as a pillow?”
Nie Mingjue’s frown disappears completely, overtaken by a pleased smile. “Yeah, of course.”
He shifts a little to make the angle better and Jiang Cheng buries his nose in the comforting cinnamon-y warmth of Nie Mingjue’s hoodie. Nie Mingjue is solid and comforting, cushioning the bumps and turns of the road. Closing his eyes, Jiang Cheng realizes that this is better than any fantasy he’s ever concocted in his head.
--
The peaceful feeling sticks with Jiang Cheng all through school on Monday but shatters mere moments after his last class.
He’s headed to his locker to pick up his bag, aimlessly scrolling through his phone when he gets a new follow request from an account he doesn’t recognize.
Curious, he clicks on the account. It’s new, no followers and just one video.
When he taps play on the video, he stops dead in his tracks. It’s Nie Mingjue and him, in the hot tub. Jiang Cheng watches in horror as the Jiang Cheng on the screen moves up and down on Nie Mingjue’s lap, white t-shirt so wet and thin he might as well be naked. Then there’s the sound—the video’s quality is good enough that Jiang Cheng can hear just make out the sound of himself moaning through his phone’s tinny speakers.
There’s a couple of giggles on the recording, louder and presumably from people behind the camera. And then, someone saying cruelly, “it’s always the innocent-looking ones, isn’t it...”
Jiang Cheng mutes the sound on his phone immediately, mortified.
He looks up, horrified, although what or who he’s looking for he isn’t sure. That’s when he sees them. It’s a still from the video, printed 20 or 30 times and taped on his locker door.
In the photo, Nie Mingjue is unrecognizable, his head burrowed in Jiang Cheng’s neck. But Jiang Cheng… Jiang Cheng is very visible. His eyes are closed and his head is tilted back, mouth open in clear pleasure.
Desperate, Jiang Cheng starts to pull the printouts from his locker. His fingers are shaky, and his vision starts to blur with tears. He realizes distantly that a group of people has started to form around him.
“A-Cheng, what’s—”
He looks up to see Nie Mingjue, trailed by Lan Huan and Jin Guangyao. Nie Mingjue is focused on him, concerned, but Lan Huan’s eyes are wide, shocked as he stares at the photos on Jiang Cheng’s locker.
And then there’s Jin Guangyao. Smiling oh-so-innocently.
Jiang Cheng just knows.
“You!” Jiang Cheng snarls. “You did this!”
His hand fists around the crumpled paper in his hand and he’s about to launch himself at the fucking snake. He’s let too much slide with Jin Guangyao already and enough is enough. But Nie Mingjue beats him to it, finally having noticed the pictures.
In a split second, Nie Mingjue has Jin Guangyao lifted in the air by his collar.
“You little shit,” Nie Mingjue growls.
Jin Guangyao’s hands come up to pull at Nie Mingjue’s hands.
“I didn’t—” he protests.
“Tell the fucking truth,” Nie Mingjue barks.
“I didn’t take the video, I swear!” he cries.
Nie Mingjue doesn’t look like he believes him, and frankly, neither does Jiang Cheng.
Lan Huan unfreezes, coming over to the pair to put a hand on Nie Mingjue’s shoulder.
“Jesus Christ, Lan Huan,” Nie Mingjue snaps, not taking his eyes off Jin Guangyao, “don’t start. What kind of bullshit excuse are you going to come up with for him this time?”
Lan Huan frowns, but ignores Nie Mingjue. He just looks straight at Jin Guangyao.
“Did you put these photos on Jiang Cheng’s locker?” he asks Jin Guangyao, voice steady.
“I told you, I didn’t take the video!” Jin Guangyao pleads, and Jiang Cheng’s conviction wavers. Nie Mingjue’s arms lower slightly, until Jin Guangyao’s feet meet the floor again.
“A-Yao,” Lan Huan says, but his voice is icier than the term of address implies. “Did you put these photos on Jiang Cheng’s locker?”
Jin Guangyao swallows, which is answer enough in itself.
Nie Mingjue releases his collar as if burned. Jin Guangyao stumbles back against the lockers.
“I’m done with you,” Nie Mingjue says with disgust.
Jin Guangyao coughs and rubs his throat as he turns to Lan Huan. “Lan Huan, I…” he begs, reaching out a hand.
But Lan Huan takes a step back.
“No,” he says simply, and it’s the coldest Jiang Cheng has ever heard him sound.
The hallway is dead quiet for a second, and then, suddenly, Wei Ying is crashing through the crowd.
Before any of them can react, Wei Ying’s fist has connected with Jin Guangyao’s face. Jin Guangyao’s nose lets out a spray of blood, and Wei Ying clutches at his fist in pain.
“Oh fuck,” Jiang Cheng mutters, finally springing back into action to pull Wei Ying away from Jin Guangyao.
“What is the meaning of this?” Professor Lan’s voice cuts through the chaos.
Everyone stills, frozen in the world’s strangest diorama.
Professor Lan’s patience with them runs out.
“Jin Guangyao, go to the nurse’s office now before you ruin the carpet. And you two,” he snaps, pointing at Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng, “detention. The rest of you go home.”
Nie Mingjue and Lan Huan both start to protest.
“Now.” Professor Lan’s voice brooks no complaint.
The crowd scatters obediently, gossiping in hushed whispers as they go. Only Wen Qing remains, scraping off the remnants of the photos on Jiang Cheng’s locker. Jiang Cheng remembers to shoot her a grateful smile with what’s left of his brain.
As Jin Guangyao passes Jiang Cheng, hand on his nose to stem the bleeding, he mutters bitterly to Jiang Cheng under his breath.
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? The wealthy, accepting family you get to take for granted because it’s your birthright. And the boys you’ve got wrapped around your finger with that innocent little act of yours.”
Jiang Cheng stills, stunned. He doesn’t think he’s ever applied the word “accepting” to his parents before.
“Let’s go, Mr. Jin,” Professor Lan’s voice cuts in again, and Jin Guangyao brushes past him, shouldering him hard on the way.
With another glare from Professor Lan, Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying shuffle their way to the designated classroom. Once there, their phones are plucked from them and they’re directed to sit quietly and work on their class assignments for an hour. It’s just the teacher and the two of them in the room; Jiang Cheng heard detention-regular Xue Yang has finally been expelled.
Reluctantly, Jiang Cheng pulls out his homework and tries to work on it. He can’t seem to concentrate, though; his mind is racing with everything that’s happened in the last 48 hours—no, the last three months—and Wei Ying keeps stealing glances at him. He'd spent so much time thinking Nie Mingjue was in love with Jin Guangyao that it hadn't even occurred to him that Jin Guangyao (or anyone, really), could be jealous of him. And the video... Jiang Cheng doesn't know what he's going to do about that either, and it opens up a pit in his stomach. For all he knows, everyone in the school will have seen it by the time he's done with detention.
At 40 minutes past the hour, the teacher tells them he’s going to the bathroom, but he’ll be back so they better not go anywhere. Given that the teacher subtly slid a box into his trouser pocket five minutes ago, Jiang Cheng suspects he’s actually headed for a cigarette break, but he keeps his mouth shut.
As soon as the teacher is gone, Wei Ying springs to his feet and shoots for the desk.
“Wei Ying,” Jiang Cheng hisses, but Wei Ying ignores him in favor of picking the desk drawer lock.
A moment later, Wei Ying has his phone free and he’s tapping on it furiously. After a couple more minutes, Jiang Cheng nervously watching for the return of the teacher, Wei Ying puts his phone back and slides the drawer shut.
He come back to the desks and sits down.
“What the fuck was that?” Jiang Cheng asks. “You better not have broken into the teacher’s desk just to text Lan Wangji or something stupid.”
Wei Ying shakes his head. “The video’s down. And Jin Guangyao knows better now than to try and put it up again.”
Jiang Cheng doesn’t totally understand how that’s possible, but he’s too tired and relieved to ask.
They lapse into silence again. It’s the first time they’ve been alone together in five days and Wei Ying seems like he’s still respecting Jiang Cheng’s demand for distance. Jiang Cheng hates it.
“Just because you got the video taken down doesn’t make what you did okay,” Jiang Cheng says, finally breaking the tension.
“I know,” Wei Ying responds, and he sounds genuinely sad. “I’m really sorry I made things hard on you.”
Jiang Cheng’s annoyance flares and he thinks, what kind of shitty apology is that?
Then he decides, screw it, and says, aloud, “what kind of shitty apology is that?”
Wei Ying balks a little.
“You’re right. I didn’t realize how much sending those letters would hurt you. I swear I did it because I love you, Jiang Cheng—” Jiang Cheng starts to interrupt, but Wei Ying puts a hand up, “—but I know that doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry, Jiang Cheng, really.”
Wei Ying’s voice is wavering by the end of his apology, eyes bright with unshed tears.
Jiang Cheng considers it. It still hurts when he thinks about what Wei Ying did, going into his room and messing with Jiang Cheng’s personal property like that. Those letters being sent caused irreparable seismic shifts and pain in his life. But then he thinks about what those shifts and pain led to. He thinks about swimming in the mornings, thinks about standing up to his parents, thinks about geeking out over the newest mobile game update with Nie Zonghui, thinks about face masks and parties with Wen Qing. He thinks about Nie Mingjue.
His life is brighter, fuller. It doesn’t make what Wei Ying did okay, not by a long shot, but he can’t deny that his life is better now.
And… he misses his brother. Misses his chaos and his brilliance. Jiang Cheng thinks about what the school counselor said about how sometimes the things you hate about someone are just the other side of the coin of what you love the most about them. He can’t quite forgive Wei Ying yet but…
“Okay,” he says. “I still need some time, and you need to be, like, way better in the future. You can’t just assume you know best and you’ve got to actually talk to me. More… helping me get ready for big basketball games and less taking my shit and doing what you want.”
Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath and admits, “I mean it… just talk to me. Part of the reason the start of the school year was so hard was because of how much time you spent with Lan Wangji when I thought you and I were going to be hanging out.”
Wei Ying looks like he’s going to interrupt again, but Jiang Cheng really doesn’t want to litigate that now. That’s a bigger conversation for another time. So he forges ahead, “But okay. You’re still my least favorite brother.”
Wei Ying bawls, wailing a jumbled mixture of apologies and thanks through snotty tears. He's out of his chair again, flinging his arms around Jiang Cheng. He’d never admit it, but Jiang Cheng’s eyes are a little wet themselves as he pats Wei Ying on the back.
When the teacher finally returns to find them still crying and clutching each other, he makes them move their desks to separate sides of the room for the last ten minutes of detention.
At the end of the hour, Jiang Cheng is more than ready to head home. But when he and Wei Ying emerge from the classroom, they see Lan Huan resting against the wall by the door. When he spots Jiang Cheng, he straightens.
“Can we talk?” he asks Jiang Cheng, and for once he isn’t smiling.
“Do you want me to stay?” Wei Ying asks under his breath, but Jiang Cheng shakes his head. He knows it’s time to do this.
“Sure,” Jiang Cheng says to Lan Huan, and they head to a nearby alcove. They sit, and Lan Huan leans forward towards Jiang Cheng.
“I spoke to Uncle, and he won’t put this on your record. I also wanted to apologize for the video. I promise you I had no idea that Jin Guangyao had a friend take it or was using it to harass you,” Lan Huan says earnestly.
Jiang Cheng lets out a small hollow laugh.
“Thanks, Lan Huan, but… honestly, it feels like you’re always defending him.”
“Not this time,” Lan Huan declares firmly.
“Just all the other times,” Jiang Cheng points out.
Lan Huan forehead furrows uncharacteristically. “Well, maybe sometimes he’s right. And it’s… it’s been really hard for him.”
“Bullshit,” Jiang Cheng snaps, and Lan Huan winces. “So he was right when he made Mingjue feel bad about not going to college? Or when he made fun of me for eating lunch on the bleachers? Or all those other million times when you stood there and let him?”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that and I know that now. I tried to smooth things over and for that I am truly sorry.”
Lan Huan sounds genuinely remorseful as he looks down at his own hands, his elegant fingers folded in his lap. “But he was right when he said you were getting in the way of our friendship.”
“Fuck that.” Jiang Cheng’s voice is a little loud, shocking both of them. If someone told him three months ago that he was going to be swearing at Lan Huan he would have had them committed, and yet here he is. “Mingjue is allowed to choose to have another person in his life. It’s Jin Guangyao who made that into a problem, right from the start.”
“No, I—” Lan Huan’s voice is choked off. “Not that. I’m doing this all wrong, I’m sorry. I meant the friendship between Mingjue and me.”
“What?” The tension in Jiang Cheng’s body releases, replaced by confusion.
“Seeing you with him—I,” Lan Huan closes his eyes, miserable, “I was jealous of Mingjue.”
“You…” Jiang Cheng stutters, “You’re Yanli’s ex. You’re straight.” You can’t like me, he thinks hopelessly.
“I’m not, not at all,” Lan Huan buries his head in his hands. “Yanli and I had an agreement. Your mother was being very critical of her lack of dating life and I wasn’t ready to come out. We were supposed to continue until I left for college, but I understand why she couldn’t. Your sister was already too kind to me.”
Lan Huan gives him a sad smile as Jiang Cheng tries to process this rush of new information. But Lan Huan isn’t done.
“I thought it would be okay, just another year and then I could go to college and figure things out more. But then I got that letter from you.”
Jiang Cheng thought he was ready to talk about this, but his head is reeling from this new information and he’s not, he’s not at all. Jiang Cheng makes to stand up. “We don’t need to talk about that.”
Lan Huan stops him with a hand on his forearm
“Please, Jiang Cheng, I need to. We never got to talk about it and you’re right, I need to stop letting things that matter go.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jiang Cheng insists. “That was months ago.”
“It matters to me!” Lan Huan protests. “I read it, and then I thought about you writing it, and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you writing it. And seeing you laughing and holding hands, at basketball games and parties, I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like if you were there with me. I’m sure Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao both picked up on it, as much as I tried to hide it.”
“I know,” Lan Huan continues carefully, “that you’re with Nie Mingjue now. And if you want to be with him, I completely understand. But I needed to say this. Leaving it unsaid was causing so much distance, between you and I and between Mingjue and I.”
Jiang Cheng is stunned.
“Just answer me this,” Lan Huan pleads, “did you mean what you wrote in that letter?”
And… Jiang Cheng did. So much has changed since then and now, but he did. It’s not hard to remember, with Lan Huan so close to him, as beautiful as before and saying the words that Jiang Cheng has dreamt of hearing him say for years. The life he imagined is breathtakingly within reach.
Out of the corner of his eye, his sees movement.
It’s Nie Mingjue’s retreating back, giving them space.
Jiang Cheng looks back at Lan Huan, still staring earnestly at him. As he considers the man he pined over for so many years, Jiang Cheng has a painful realization. The Lan Huan he fell for was a fantasy, just like all the other letters he wrote. Jiang Cheng was in love—he won’t belittle the intensity of his feelings and say it was something else—but not with the man who’s sitting in front of him now.
The man sitting in front of him now is still worthy of love, but he’s not the perfect construction of a man who Jiang Cheng wrote that letter to. And Jiang Cheng certainly isn’t the isolated, unhappy person he was when he wrote that letter, desperate for a way out.
Jiang Cheng’s feelings for Nie Mingjue started as a fantasy too, another way out of a different difficult situation. But over the last few months those feelings have turned into something else. Something more. His connection with Nie Mingjue might be imperfect, the two of them still figuring out how they can best fit together. But he wants that. He wants dates at the dog shelter where they’re picking up after dogs. He wants nights where they bail on parties and make noodles that are tougher than rope. He wants to take the time to figure it all out, even if it means vulnerability and disagreements. What he feels now for Nie Mingjue is…
He answers Lan Huan with as much honesty as he can.
“I did mean what I wrote in that letter. But I don’t feel that way about you now.”
Lan Huan looks disappointed, but not surprised.
“Lan Huan, I’m sorry, but I need to go,” Jiang Cheng says, standing up. This time Lan Huan doesn’t stop him as he leaves, just smiles a little sadly.
It seems trite to ask him to be friends, but internally Jiang Cheng hopes they can get there one day. An actual friendship, based on the people they really are.
Right now, though, Jiang Cheng has a more pressing concern.
By the time he reaches the school doors, he’s broken into a full out run. He has a guess of where Nie Mingjue might have gone, and he prays that he’s right.
Luckily, when he hits the track and looks up at the bleachers, there’s Nie Mingjue, sitting near the top. Jiang Cheng climbs the bleachers to join him, looking out at the field as the sun sets over it.
Jiang Cheng’s chest is still thumping, from the run or from what he needs to say, he’s not sure.
They both start to talk at the same time.
“Let me go first,” Nie Mingjue says, eyes still fixed on a point somewhere across the field. “I know all of this didn’t happen the way you might have wanted. I wish I could give you some big romantic moment, you know, be the hero coolly shutting Jin Guangyao down and impressing your parents, rather than the asshole flying off the handle. And I know Lan Huan is that guy. He’s always been good at that stuff, which is probably why he’s always been the one you wanted. But… I meant what I said. If there’s still a chance, I want you to know I’m still in.”
Everything about what Nie Mingjue is saying is wrong, and Jiang Cheng needs him to know that. He shakes his head furiously.
“You did give me a big romantic moment,” he contests, “in the hot tub on that ski trip, and also kind of just now. But… that’s not what I want. What I want is all the small moments you give me all the time. Naps on buses and you having my back and making me laugh. I want to find out what moments come after the big ones.”
Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath. At the ski resort, Nie Mingjue had laid out his feelings for Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng had kissed him, but he’d never actually told him how he felt.
His response is long overdue.
“I love you.”
For once, there’s no waver in his voice.
Nie Mingjue turns away from the glowing sunset towards Jiang Cheng. His eyes search Jiang Cheng’s for a moment, and then he’s pulling him into a fierce kiss. There’s an almost bruising intensity in his lips, but Nie Mingjue’s hand is tender as he cups the back of Jiang Cheng’s head like he’s something precious.
When they break apart at last, breathless, Nie Mingjue’s face splits into his brilliant, beautiful smile. The warm glow in his eyes doesn’t leave any room for anxiety to build in Jiang Cheng’s stomach.
“I love you too,” Nie Mingjue promises. “So let’s see what happens after.”