Chapter Text
In the photo, they’re in Nie Huaisang’s bathroom, Lan Zhan putting a safety pin through the cartilage of his left ear. He’s staring straight at Wei Wuxian through the mirror, who’s standing behind him grimacing. There’s a bottle of pure alcohol on the counter and a bunch of cotton pads, it’s not the first time Lan Zhan’s pierced his own ears and it won’t be the last. It is however, the only time the piercing will get infected, and in a few months he’ll have to take it out and let it heal. In the photo he doesn’t know this. In the photo, he’s more focused on Wei Wuxian, who always needs someone to hold his hand and will look away when Nie Huaisang pushes a needle through his ears or his lip, but who loves the way they look and can’t stop getting more.
Lan Zhan’s pale throat is decorated with a delicate lace choker with a small pendant hanging from it. It’s old and a little worn out, and it’s the only item of clothing that he owns that’s actually torn. Wei Wuxian lives in a loose knitted sweater that he’d purposefully pulled threads from. The apartment around them is still, it’s a friday afternoon not yet late enough for the sun to turn a warm orange and Wei Wuxian wants to stay inside and press ice cubes against Lan Zhan’s ears for the rest of the evening.
In the photo, they’re standing outside in a field at night. It’s the last day of April, or maybe it’s already past midnight and they’re in the first hours of May, it’s hard to tell. Wei Wuxian’s put a timer on the camera and he’s running to where Lan Zhan, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng are standing all dressed up and waiting for him. It’s cold outside, but behind them is a giant bonfire and students running around, casting long shadows on the wet grass. Lan Zhan is in a long black skirt with studded belts hanging loose and crossing over each other over his thighs. It’s a monstrosity, heavy and impractical, Lan Zhan had spent hours sitting in front of the ancient sewing machine Wei Wuxian had gotten second hand attaching all the belts with extreme care so they’d fall exactly right.
They’d done their makeup together earlier that evening, standing side by side in front of the mirror in Lan Zhan’s hallway. Wei Wuxian with his ever trusted black eyeshadow that he’d apply with his fingertip, running it aggressively over his closed eyes until he deemed it good enough, and Lan Zhan by his elbow with a new kohl pen in his steady hand that he carefully ran over his waterline.
In the photo, standing in front of the bonfire Lan Zhan is something out of a vision, sharp eyes looking at the camera, black lip gloss lips just opening to say something--
The ground is damp and hard to navigate in the chunky shoes Wei Wuxian’s wearing, and the wide pants don't make it easier. He’s running towards them, trying to catch what Lan Zhan is saying and crashing into Jiang Cheng as the flash goes off, a wide blurry smile on his face.
In the photo he’s still 20, laying in a stranger’s bed and listening to music through the floorboard. Lan Zhan is laying on his side across the bed, eyeliner smudged and hair spilling over his shoulder and pooling onto the white sheets under them. One of his hands is resting in front of him, and he’s staring at Wei Wuxian with heavy eyes.
He doesn’t remember how they got here, but outside the sun is starting to rise and he probably should be getting home, but he’s been frozen like this for so long- back straight and head turned to meet Lan Zhan’s gaze. The two of them, laying there and breathing the same air, existing only on the queen sized mattress. If Lan Zhan asked, Wei Wuxian would do anything for him at this moment just to keep it going, to keep Lan Zhan looking at him. But it’s hard to look back at Lan Zhan in the same way that it’s hard to look at a bright full moon without squinting.
After the photo was taken, Lan Zhan slowly reached out his hand to touch Wei Wuxian’s. A light caress that became a solid grip when Wei Wuxian turned his palm up to meet him midway. After, he’d turned his head towards the ceiling then, too overwhelmed with both seeing and feeling Lan Zhan at the same time. They’d stayed that way until the music got turned off, and Lan Zhan had gotten out of bed, leaving his hand cold and empty, but he’d kept staring straight ahead. He’d wanted to say something, but the moment was gone, and maybe it had been gone since he turned his head, he’s not sure.
Lan Sizhui is sitting by his usual desk when Jin Ling gets inside the classroom, elbow on the table and head resting in his hand. It’s the first time Jin Ling has seen him actually look tired in the morning.
He slides into the seat beside his friend, placing his laptop on the desk in front of him. “Good morning?”
Lan Sizhui only mumbles a reply, he’s got his eyes closed and his backpack hangs from the back of his chair unopened. It’s certainly a sight to see. Jin Ling almost wants to take a photo and frame it somewhere just so he can remember the occasion in the future. He settles on sending a snap of Lan Sizhui to Lan Jingyi instead, it’s almost as good.
Lan Jingyi runs into the classroom barely a minute before the lesson starts as usual. It’s as close to breaking rules that the Lan’s allow, and he skirts that line expertly. His desk is right behind Lan Sizhui, diagonally behind Jin Ling and he leans over it to stare at Jin Ling with big, round eyes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sizhui tired in the morning after 9 am ever . What did you do last night buddy?”
“I was up late.” Lan Sizhui offers nothing else. Jin Ling makes eye contact with Lan Jingyi who shrugs, but he looks worried.
The lesson drags on as usual. It’s only made mildly interesting by the teacher looking expectantly at Lan Sizhui whenever she asks a question, and instead of raising his hand like he usually would, Lan Sizhui simply stares ahead, occasionally writing down notes.
By lunch Sizhui looks less tired, but Jin Ling can still see the bags under his eyes. Staying up half the night wouldn’t impact him that much, but he understands that it’s different for Lan Sizhui, who regularly gets eight hours of sleep per night, and any plans in his schedule are carefully calculated and compensated for.
Jin Ling doesn’t doubt that half of the tiredness comes from lack of sleep, and the other half Lan Sizhui worrying over how the lack of sleep will impact the rest of his day- if not the week. He knows that Lan Jingyi must have noticed as well, because he’s not as loud as he usually is, and he doesn’t poke Lan Sizhui in the back as he usually does during lectures as well.
They sit down at their usual table, Lan Sizhui placing his usual bottle of green tea in front of his tray and sighing.
Jin Ling looks at Lan Jingyi, who looks back at him and does a little motion with his hand. Clearly it’s up to him to ask why Lan Sizhui was up to the day before, after they’d split in front of Wei Wuxian’s apartment.
Looking at the pictures had been weird to say the least. Jin Ling had been met with the same weird nostalgia feeling as the first time he’d seen the photos of his family, a sense of fascination and knowledge that yes, his parents had lived a whole life that he didn’t know about. He can only imagine Lan Sizhui’s feelings right now.
The fact that Wei Wuxian was a bit… weird isn’t a secret in his family, but it is another thing entirely to be confronted with picture evidence of it. Jin Ling actually prefers not to know that his uncle would drink vodka straight from the bottle when he was 20, but here he is. Still, it’s different from how the Lan’s are.
When they’d parted ways after realizing that yeah, standing out in the middle of the street directly below Wei Wuxian’s window wasn’t the smartest idea, Sizhui had been the one to keep the book. He’d been quiet when they flipped through the pages, letting Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi keep a running commentary of all the pictures.
Clearly the pictures had affected him, more so than Jin Ling ever thought they would.
“So uh, did you talk to your dad about it?” He asks, trying to keep a lighthearted tone.
“Oh. No, I got a bit busy. At first I was a bit bothered, this is the last time I want to find out new information about my dad from your uncle.” Lan Sizhui sends an apologetic smile to him, and he just waves it off. Jin Ling also wouldn’t like to get information that way. “And I mean, you’ve been to my house, so you know there’s a lot of memorabilia there, so I spent the night trying to see if I could find any pictures of my dad during his college days. I guess I just lost track of time?”
“Thank fuck.” Lan Jingyi exclaims, shoulders lowering and posture relaxing. “I thought you were, like, traumatized by seeing your dad dressed in anything other than pastels and that you’d spent the entire night staring at the ceiling or something. I was ready to book a therapist appointment for you and everything.” He holds up his phone for them to see, with the latest google search being ‘Therapist near me’.
The search under it says ‘ How to confess to your crush????? ’
Jin Ling stares at it. “Since when do you have a crush?”
“What?” Lan Jingyi takes his phone back, and Jin Ling can pinpoint the exact moment he sees the second search, because his eyes widen and his neck turns an alarming shade of red. “Oh, uh. Haha. That’s um.”
“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” Lan Sizhui says, looking more alert than he had the entire morning despite the bags under his eyes.
Lan Jingyi rubs the back of his head and places his phone down on the table. “Yeah? Well it’s stupid anyways so, uh, not really any reason to think about it.”
Jin Ling can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s the stupidest thing to have stuck in your head; How to confess to your crush????? It’s stupid and annoying and with way too many question marks. He’s sure that the only result that even showed up was some weird pathetic loser’s reddit post with two upvotes. And yet, somehow, Lan Jingyi is that pathetic loser.
He sits on the bus home chewing on his thumbnail and staring out the window. He’d barely said goodbye to Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui when they’d met up in front of their lockers as usual after the last bell. The whole mood had been weird, with Sizhui looking worried, and Jingyi hadn’t said a word at all.
And yeah, Jin Ling can understand that having to tell your best friends that you have a secret crush isn’t a fun situation to be in, but he just doesn't understand why Lan Jingyi couldn’t have told them earlier? The thought of Lan Jingyi actively keeping it a secret makes him vaguely nauseous.
But the thought of having to hear Lan Jingyi tell him that he’s got a crush, say their name and maybe even meeting that person in school and knowing that this is the person that Lan Jingyi likes makes Jin Ling feel like his stomach is going to turn inside out.
Fuck. What if Lan Jingyi actually confesses to his crush and they get together? He’d probably spend less time with Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui, skipping their bunny sitting nights for dates and he’d probably no longer have time to find out more about Jin Ling’s uncle and-
And Jin Ling would lose his best friend. Fuck .
His bad mood follows him home.
Of course, today of all days is when his mom works from home. She’s sitting in the kitchen, computer open in front of her and a cup of coffee right beside it. Her reading glasses are on and she’s writing something down in her notebook when Jin Ling walks in.
As always, she smiles at him, warm and comforting.
“It’s… it’s nothing. I wanted a hug, that’s all.” He mumbles into her shoulder. Jin Ling’s almost as tall as her and yet he still feels small in his mom’s arms. It feels like love, the way her arms squeezes him tightly for a little bit before slowly releasing him so she can look him in the eyes.
Yanli looks a bit concerned, but she’s smiling like she always does whenever Jin Ling is feeling especially in need of a hug.
“Good thing I’m always willing to give you a hug then.” She says, and ruffles his hair. It’s so tender and warm and overwhelming that he almost wants to cry. Instead he just hugs her again and presses his eyes against her shoulder.
“Do you want something? I can make tea and we can sit on the sofa and talk if you want?” And he’d love to do that. He really would. But Jin Ling doesn’t want to talk to his mom about his stupid awful possessive feelings over his best friend. He doesn’t even know what he’d say without sounding like he thinks he’s entitled to all of Lan Jingyi’s time. So instead he just shakes his head before slowly withdrawing from the hug.
He doesn’t know how to explain to his mom that he’s so aware that she purposefully sees the best in everyone and everything, and right now he doesn’t want to hear how it’s going to turn out alright. Right now he wants to be angry and sad and a 16- year old with a stupid unrequired crush. He doesn't look at her as he stands up and grabs his jacket. “Maybe some other time? I’m heading to Jingyi’s, I’ll text if I’m not home for dinner.”
His mom looks at him with concern, but she steps aside after placing a kiss on his forehead. Jin Ling soaks up the warmth. “Be home before nine at least? It’s been a while since we sat down and had tea together.”
She’s letting it go for now. Jin Ling nods, feeling the tears catch in his throat, and then he heads out.
Outside he pulls out his phone and texts Jiang Cheng, because what else is he supposed to do? At least he can count on his uncle to not wanna talk about emotions at all.
‘can u come pick me up?’
‘No. It’s 4 p.m. I’m still at work. Why?’
‘idk im bored’
‘Do homework or something.’
Ugh! Jin Ling kinda feels like screaming, kinda feels like crying. He can’t even go to Sizhui and hang out with his bunnies. Because Sizhui and his dad are all about ‘open communication’ and if Jin Ling shows up looking like a baby who’s just about to have a temper tantrum then he’s going to have to explain how he overreacted to Jingyi’s Google search history and that’s a whole can of worms he’d prefer to never talk about with anyone who knows him.
He ends up going back to the bus stop that he got off at a little less than an hour ago, and just standing there waiting for the next bus to arrive. All while looking at his phone screen every 2 seconds. When the bus stops in front of him, all the emotions in his body feel like they’ve been spun into a tight little yarn with a time bomb in the middle, steadily counting down until he explodes- either in anger or sadness. Perhaps both.
He spends the time on the bus relatively the same way he spent waiting for it, looking at his phone before turning it off and then immediately turning it on again. It’s not until he looks up from the screen and takes in the scenery that he realizes that the next stop is the one closest to where Wei Wuxian lives. For a moment he considers not getting off the bus at all and just riding it to the end stop and then back again, but that seems a bit too depressing.
As he waits for the stop to come up, leg bouncing and phone held tightly in his hand he looks out the window and onto the city passing by. The route has become slightly familiar to him now, considering the number of times he’s gone to Wei Wuxian’s now.
Thinking of that makes him think of the last time he visited with his friends, which makes him think of Lan Jingyi. And that just makes his stomach curl.
He realizes only after climbing up the seven flights of stairs and standing in front of Wei Wuxian’s door, that he probably should have texted his uncle before showing up. There’s no guarantee that Wei Wuxian is even home, and then won’t Jin Ling look like a fool- just standing outside a closed door and nowhere else he can think of going?
But still, he knocks on the door and takes a few steps back just as a precaution, and watches as Wei Wuxian opens the door, shock written all over his face as he sees Jin Ling standing there.