Work Text:
01
By the end of the first month, A-Ying had run out of food to eat and his stomach was so empty he wasn’t sure if he was hungry or not. It was cold on the streets but he curls into himself tighter as if he could save himself that way, wondering if he dared to wander out onto the main road to search for some food.
There was a lady there, sometimes, who always had a sharp word or three for him but would throw him some scraps if he looked sad and hungry enough.
Sometimes, there was an old man at the end of the alley who would let A-Ying sit with him and tell him stories, his voice rough and raspy but A-Ying would be enraptured with his raucous laugh even when he didn’t quite understand what the old man was talking about. He gave him a small sip of his drink sometimes, something sharp and bitter but it chased the cold away and made it easier to sleep. The old man wasn’t always as nice after his drink though and A-Ying learnt to dodge and run quickly.
There were all types of people out here but none were kind like his father was, none were gentle like his mother was and he missed them dearly.
Feeling the tears well up as they always did when he thought about them, he shook his head and forced them away.
His mother loved his smile, he remembers, she used to laugh and smile along with him and kiss him on his cheeks. Even though she was gone now, she wouldn’t want him to cry or be sad so A-Ying ignores the sharp pangs of hunger and the biting cold, humming softly to himself until he manages to smile.
02
Living at Lotus Pier is everything that Wuxian could have ever hoped for and more, with a warm bed at night and a meal whenever he was hungry. He knew that he was lucky, that the Jiang family were so kind and welcoming, that if he ever messed up, he would never get a chance like this again.
So Wuxian tries his best. Uncle Jiang and Shije are both warm and welcoming but he doesn’t think Madame Yu will ever really like him. His relationship with Jiang Cheng is hard to put into words but he is undoubtedly his best friend, his comrade-in-arms. They live together, play together, eat together and they become brothers in everything but blood.
It is not until they are older that Wuxian realises this is an important distinction.
Madame Yu starts both of their cultivational training at the same time and while she is sometimes strict and harsh, Wuxian picks up most of her teachings easily, to her grudging approval.
Jiang Cheng doesn’t.
The time they spend together slowly decreases, Jiang Cheng opting to stay back to train longer and harder, driven by his mother’s dissatisfaction. By the second week of their training, Jiang Cheng only responds to Wuxian in short, curt sentences.
The next morning, after he sees Jiang Cheng train late into the evening, he slips out of the complex and heads to the outskirts of town. There, he trains alone until early afternoon.
When he gets back, Madame Yu is at the training grounds again with Jiang Cheng pushing him through another set of physical exercises while Uncle Jiang watches.
She notices him as he passes by and glares, saying “And where are you been all morning?”
“I got bored, so I went to catch pheasants instead,” he says, the lie slipping off his tongue easily.
Madame Yu looks at him sharply, her eyes narrowing. “You…” she starts, looking as if she wants to reach for her whip before she launches in on a scalding lecture.
After a while, Uncle Jiang clears his throat. “Just let him be, my lady,” he says, “A-Xian is a still child, after all.”
She snorts but stops, turning around to ignore the both of them but Wuxian sees that way that she is a little less harsh with Jiang Cheng. (He misses the way Jiang Cheng glances at his father though.)
Uncle Jiang turns and smiles gently at him and Wuxian swallows the lump in his throat and returns his smile.
03
In the end, he stands on one side, the rest of the world on the other. Betraying and betrayed by his friends, family and himself until he does not know who betrayed who and what that acrid taste at the back of his throat really means. He feels something in his bones, sees it within himself, unsteady and volatile and ready to rupture.
Ah, he thinks, I guess this is the end for me.
He smiles.
+1
Wuxian startles awake, breathing heavy as his mind whirls, heart beating as he reminds himself that it was only a dream and that he was awake now, that this is real and it was all in the past. Beside him, Wangji stirs and blinks awake.
“Wei Ying?” he murmurs, sitting up.
Wuxian slowly wills his hands to relax from where they are clutching at the sheets and turns to face him, patting Wangji’s arm which is reaching out for him.
“It’s okay,” Wuxian says, a smile slipping naturally onto his face, “it’s nothing, Lan Zhan, go back to sleep.”
Wangji observes him silently for a moment before laying back down and tugging Wuxian along with him, wrapping an arm around Wuxian’s waist, his heartbeat slow, steady and warm beat against Wuxian’s back. He places a gentle kiss to Wuxian’s shoulder.
“I’m not looking,” he says, “so it’s fine. You don’t have to smile for me.”
He clasps his hand, still a little cold and clammy, against Wangji’s and presses his face against the sheets. Slowly, he starts to sob softly, shoulders trembling.
Wangji holds him tight through the night and into the morning.
(+1)
He feels so happy he could explode, his cheeks hurting from where he has been smiling so much but he can’t bring himself to stop. Beside him, Wangji stands clad in red as handsome and beautiful as he has ever seen him. As if sensing him looking, he glances at Wuxian his face as serene as ever but Wuxian can see the quiet joy and tenderness in his eyes and he grasps his hand, lacing their fingers together.
“Let’s go,” Wuxian says, tugging at his hand slightly. Wangji looks around at the people still chatting and eating at the banquet but Wuxian tugs on his hand again.
“Come on,” he says, “they’ll be fine without us. It’s our wedding day after all.”
Wangji sighs, fond and follows Wuxian as they slip out the back, making their way back to their room. Wuxian pulls him inside and Wangji lets him, the two of them tumbling into the back room and onto the bed.
“Finally!” Wuxian says, “some time to ourselves at last.”
Wangji stares at him, seemingly unable to take his eyes off Wuxian, spread out on the bed, still in his red wedding attire, Wangji’s ribbon tied around his wrist.
“You are here,” he says after a moment.
“Yes, I am here at last. Was it worth the wait?” Wuxian asks, half-joking.
“Wei Ying,” he says, staring at him intently, “there exists nothing that could be worth what you mean to me, not twenty years, not two hundred.”
Feeling his face go hot, Wuxian tugs Wangji closer to him, bringing their lips together in their first kiss in the rest of their lives together.
“I thought we already made our speeches Lan-er-gege,” Wuxian complains as they pull apart but he’s smiling still as he cups Wangji’s face in his hands and looks at this man, his husband, this person that brings him indescribable joy and warmth and happiness everyday and has promised himself to Wuxian, everyday for the rest of their lives and his heart feels so full, ready to burst.
“It is the same for me, for all the sad times, for all the times I cried and wanted to die, I’m happy that they happened because they all led me here, to you.”