Chapter Text
All things considered, Lan Jingyi supposed that getting stabbed wasn’t the most painful thing that had ever happened to him. Sizhui would probably insist later that he’d been in shock and hadn’t felt the pain, but he wasn’t sure details like that mattered. He should probably be more concerned with trying to get up. The middle of a battlefield was probably not the best place to be laying around.
“Jingyi!”
The shout came to him like he was underwater, indistinct and garbled. He tried to open his eyes, not quite sure when they’d clenched closed so tightly, but everything around him was too much. The sun was too bright where it shone overhead, the robes of various sects and the swords flashing around were too many colors, the difference between live people and fierce corpses was too difficult for him to comprehend. He heard his name being called again as his eyes fell closed, quickly followed by two hands gripping his shoulders tight.
“Jingyi, can you hear me?”
All he could muster in response was a groan.
“Uncle!”
The sound of a flute that Jingyi hadn’t noticed coming in close cut off.
“Go, we’ve got it handled here!” Another voice answered before the flute started up again.
Jingyi vaguely registered being picked up. His head spun with the motion, and he slumped easily into the slim but strong chest as he heard the shhhng of a sword being unsheathed. He clenched his eyes tighter when they started to fly through the air, his stomach churning in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. The arms under his back and legs gripped him tighter as they flew toward the healers tent, a rough curse rumbling in the chest his head lay on as they dodged some obstacle.
He was starting to feel the wound then, starting to feel the throbbing in his left side and the way blood seeped into his robes from where the Su cultivator’s sword had ripped through him. Who did the Su and Qin sects think they were, anyway? Starting a war and trying to overthrow the Jin sect after almost a decade of peace. Lan Jingyi huffed in annoyance, then winced when it made his side hurt.
“Hang on,” the voice spoke again, this time from above him. He realized then that he wasn’t floating but was being carried. He slumped further into the gold silk of the person’s robes, hissing when the movement pulled on his wound again.
“Almost there,” the person said, sounding as much like he was trying to reassure himself as he was trying to reassure Lan Jingyi. “Hang on, hang on, please hang on.”
The voice was familiar and unfamiliar all at once, a voice he’d heard so often, but never like this—shaky, nearly panicked, none of the usual sharp wit or hint of arrogance mixed in. None of the laughter he’d been drawing out more and more before the stupid war started. Jingyi cursed the Su and Qin sects again for taking that laughter away from him.
They jolted as Jing Ling jumped down from his sword, pulling another grunt from Lan Jingyi.
“Shit, sorry,” Jin Ling murmured, his fingers tightening where he held Jingyi. His next words were louder, steadier as he called over a healer, commanding and pompous in the way Lan Jingyi mocked incessantly but not so secretly loved. His head was swimming again, his side throbbing and his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he was placed onto a sleeping mat to be examined. When the arms around him pulled away he wrenched his eyes open, reaching out to clutch Jin Ling’s golden sleeve, gritting his teeth against the pain it sent searing through his side. Jin Ling’s head whipped back toward him, red-rimmed eyes widening when they saw his open.
“Jingyi,” Jin Ling choked. The moisture in his eyes spilled over. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”
He must look like hell. Jin Ling was never this nice to him.
“Jin Ling,” he rasped, reaching up with his free hand to wipe the tears off of Jin Ling’s face and realizing his fingers were shaking.
“Don’t move,” Jin Ling insisted, grabbing his hand and clutching tight to his fingers. “A healer will be here soon.”
He was so pretty, Lan Jingyi thought. Even covered in dirt and blood, even with the way his jaw was clenched tight with worry. He’d been thinking for some time that there was no one on this earth more perfectly suited for him, no one else he could imagine himself spending his life with. But every time he wanted to bring it up he got tongue-tied, or he said something stupid that started a fight, or they ended up in some tension-filled situation like that drunk night at the inn and he’d back out and they’d act like it never happened the next day. Then the war had started and there hadn’t been any time to bring it up. He figured now was as good a time as any. He might bleed out and miss his chance altogether if he didn’t take the opportunity.
“Ji’Ling,” he tried again, the words coming out even more garbled than the first time. “Need t’… tell you…” a fit of coughing forced its way out of him then, cutting him off. He felt something warm dripping down his chin before he was pushed back into the mat.
“Shut up and tell me later, idiot.” Jin Ling snapped, worry flashing in his eyes as he wiped at Jingyi’s mouth with his sleeve. When he pulled it away dark red had seeped into the gold fabric. Huh.
Just as Lan Jingyi was thinking he must be worse off than he first thought, darkness started closing in on his vision. His heart thudded in his ears again, and he tried desperately to get the words he needed to say out of his mouth before it was too late. All he managed was a faint groan before the darkness overtook him completely.
———
He floated back to consciousness slowly. He became aware of his body bit by bit, then the bed roll below him. He pried his eyes open, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Tan canvas walls came into focus first, reminding him where he was and why. Right. The stupid war. The stupid Su and Qin sects. The stupid sword that ripped through his side.
He took stock of his body as he blinked, trying to bring the world back into focus. His side definitely still hurt, but it was manageable, and he could feel the bandages wrapped tight around his torso, keeping pressure on the wound. It felt like he was already starting to heal. The healer’s tent was finally less blurry, and he realized he must be in the corner. All he could see was tan canvas flapping lightly in the afternoon breeze. He turned his head with minimal effort, and his heart thudded in his chest at the sleeping figure next to him. Jin Ling sat in clean robes with his head resting on his fist, a furrow between his brows. It didn’t look like a peaceful sleep, but Lan Jingyi hated to wake him all the same.
Sitting up was harder than turning over, but he managed to do it, gritting his teeth to keep from making any noise and waking Jin Ling.
His efforts turned out to be in vain. Jin Ling shot upright at the rustle of bedsheets beside him, his eyes flying immediately to where Jingyi had been laying, then flicking up to his face.
“Jingyi?” He breathed. like he hardly dared to believe what he was seeing.
“Young Mistress,” Lan Jingyi said back, desperate to get the terrified look off his face. It worked immediately. Jin Ling rolled his eyes with a huff, his shoulder slumping in relief.
“I guess you’re feeling fine then.”
“Yep,” he said cheerily.
“Good,” Jin Ling said shortly. He glanced around to see that all the healers had stepped out, then proceeded to shove Lan Jingyi’s shoulder so hard he nearly toppled back onto the bed roll.
“Hey!”
“Do you think it’s funny, scaring me like that? You’ve been asleep for two days!”
“I didn’t--”
“Didn’t think? Obviously you didn’t. You left yourself completely open. And another thing--”
Lan Jingyi was only half listening as Jin Ling rambled on about battlefield tactics. There was something he was forgetting, something important he’d been trying to do before he’d passed out. He tried to retrace what he could remember after getting stabbed as Jin Ling went on, now gesturing animatedly with his hands. He had a vague memory of flying to the healers tent, of surprisingly strong arms hoisting him onto a sword but laying him down gently. Fingers gripping tight to his. Tears marring a beautiful face. It hit him then, and he sucked in a breath at the memory of succumbing to unconsciousness before he could get the words out.
“Jin Ling,” he said slowly, trying to pull Jin Ling out of his rant gently. Sizhui would be so proud.
“What’s the matter with you?” Jin Ling snapped, not hearing him at all. “What’s the point of acting heroic if it’s just going to get you killed? I’d break your legs if you weren’t already injured.”
“Jin Ling,” Lan Jingyi said more insistently. Jin Ling still didn’t respond, rambling on about Lans and their self-sacrificing ways. He didn’t even notice Lan Jingyi reaching behind his head to undo the knot of his forehead ribbon. Ridiculous. It was a miracle that it was Lan Jingyi lying in bed injured instead of him.
“Jin Ling!”
“What?” Jin Ling demanded, finally pausing his rant and looking at Lan Jingyi. His eyes landed on Lan Jingyi’s outstretched hand, at the ribbon draped over his palm, and his face melted from anger to shock. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Something I should have done a long time ago.”
A flush spread over Jin Ling’s cheeks and nose, his hands clenched at his robes as his eyes flicked back and forth between the ribbon in Jingyi’s hands and his face.
“Wait,” he said, a hysterical edge creeping into his voice. “You just woke up. You’re still injured, don’t do anything you’ll regret later.”
“Stop being stupid,” Lan Jingyi said, impatient now. “The only thing I would regret would be letting either of us leave this tent without telling you how I feel.”
Jin Ling gulped, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He tried to sound biting when he spoke again and failed miserably.
“This better not be some kind of joke. Just because you knew me before I was a sect leader doesn’t mean you can—“
“Jin Ling,” he cut in firmly then, not continuing until nervous eyes met his. “Jin Rulan. Sect Leader Jin. LiangYun-Zun. I love you. I love you even though you’re stubborn and temperamental and full of yourself. I love how much you care about your people and your family and your friends under that pompous exterior.”
“Is this a love confession or you trying to destroy my self esteem?” Jin Ling snipped, but his voice wavered with withheld emotion. Jingyi didn’t acknowledge the words, knowing they were a last attempt at deflection. He had no face left to save.
“I, Lan Yu, courtesy name Lan Jingyi, will love you until the day I die and even beyond then. My forehead ribbon belongs to you and no one else, if you will accept it.”
He extended his hand in offering. Jin Ling’s gaze fell to the ribbon again, his lips pressing together tight, moisture beading at the corners of his eyes. Without warning, he knocked Jingyi’s hand out of the way and fell into him, burying his face in Jingyi’s neck with a poorly concealed sob. Lan Jingyi froze for half a moment before he got himself together, the ribbon fluttering from his grasp so he could wrap his arms around Jin Ling and hold him tight as his shoulders shook. They stayed like that in silence for a time, soaking each other in as their breathing calmed down.
“I don’t want your stupid Lan ribbon,” Jin Ling eventually rasped into his neck. “I just want you.”
Lan Jingyi’s heart thudded in his chest, a wide smile stretching over his face.
“Technically the stupid ribbon represents me,” he teased, pressing a short kiss to Jin Ling’s temple.
Jin Ling pulled back punching at his shoulder with no force.
“Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic.”
“Ahh yes. Insulting my sect’s most sacred tradition, the height of romance.”
Jin Ling huffed again, trying to extricate himself from Lan Jingyi’s arms.
“I take back what I said. I’m not going to put up with this for the rest of my life.”
“Too late,” Jingyi said, tightening his hold to keep them pressed close together. “Say only what you mean, you’re supposed to be an honorable sect leader.”
“You’re insufferable. How has the Lan Sect not kicked you out yet?”
“You like me this way.”
Jin Ling’s eyes softened then, the soft flush returning to his cheeks. He reached up with one hand and brushed his fingers across the bare skin of Jingyi’s forehead before cupping the back of his neck.
“No,” he breathed, tilting his face up. “I love you, you idiot.”
His lips were as soft as Lan Jingyi had imagined they’d be in his many fantasies about this moment. He tilted his head for a better angle and Jin Ling’s mouth fell open around a sigh, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to nip at the plush lower lip he’d stared at way too often in recent months. Jin Ling melted into him with another sigh and he pressed even more enthusiastically into the kiss. He ignored the pulling at his side, unwilling to let anything ruin this moment.
When they finally came up for air Lan Jingyi’s lips were buzzing and he was warm up to the tips of his ears. Jin Ling didn’t look much better, the flush had spread down to his neck and his mouth was bright red in a way Lan Jingyi couldn’t linger on if he wanted to keep his sanity. He fell back to teasing you district himself.
“Fair’s fair, Young Mistress. I showed you mine, now you show me yours,” he said with a sly grin.
Jin Ling’s face got impossibly darker.
“What nonsense are you spilling now?”
Jingyi pointed to his forehead with a wink before reaching for Jin Ling’s.
Jin Ling rolled his eyes, his shoulders relaxing.
“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop Jingyi from wiping the vermillion mark on his forehead away.
“Isn’t this an even exchange?” Lan Jingyi shot back.
“Yes, yes, fine. Are you happy now?” Jin Ling said, but his eyes looked just over Jingyi’s shoulder, looking suddenly nervous. Lan Jingyi moved his hand to Jin Ling’s chin, tilting his face up to look him in the eye again.
“The most beautiful sect leader in the world who I love with all my heart just told me he loved me back, of course I’m happy.”
Jin Ling squawked in overwhelmed surprise, shoving at his shoulder again.
“Are you going to make a habit of saying embarrassing things?” he asked accusingly.
“Yes,” Lan Jingyi said with no remorse. “Us Lans are very romantic under all our rules, you know. I can say more things now, if you’d like.”
“Please don’t,” Jin Ling said, twisting his hands in Jingyi’s undershirt and hauling him forward. “Just shut up and kiss me more.”
Lan Jingyi complied with a hum. Yes, all things considered, getting stabbed was far from the worst thing that could have happened to him.