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Sizhui should tell him.
Now wouldn’t be a bad time either. The two have just finished cultivation training and class lectures for the day and they wander the empty classroom, performing their organization duties. Sizhui places the last book on the shelf and pats his robes clean of all the dust, a relieved sigh leaving his lips. He then turns around to check on the other’s progress, to which his eyes meets a very drained-looking Jingyi, sprawled out on a mat without a care for maintaining proper Gusu Lan mannerisms. Typical; Sizhui is the only other person in the room, anyway.
Repressing a soft chuckle, he ambles over and seats himself across the desk between the two of them. “Jingyi?” he calls, a mellow lilt prevalent in his voice at the second syllable. His brows raise a bit as he glances over the desk at the male still splayed on the ground, who’s barely flinched up until now.
“Huh? Oh, Sizhui,” Jingyi utters a noise and finally responds, the alert in his voice somewhat delayed. “Is it morning already? Feels like I just slept...” His speech permeates lethargy and precedes a drawled out yawn as he sits up, rubbing at his eyes. In actuality, it’s barely seven in the evening. Sizhui wonders exactly how worn out the other must have been to pass out so quickly after classes. Nevertheless, he treasures these kinds of moments the most. Jingyi is always so vigilant, keen, and exuberant (he may also be clumsy and brash at times, but never intentionally). Thus, catching him languid and droopy-lidded, making no conscious effort to live up to perfect cultivator standards, is undeniably endearing.
Deciding there is no harm in humoring his friend a little, Sizhui nods. “Mn. It’s half past five,” he replies, tone unwavering and his posture flawless. This appearance strongly resembles Hanguang-Jun’s. For being a star disciple of a sect that advocates complete honesty, Sizhui’s lying skills have become questionably decent in recent years. Evidently, Senior Wei’s arrival in the Cloud Recesses had made its impacts.
A surprised gasp escapes Jingyi’s mouth as his eyes snap open, gaping directly at Sizhui. “What, I’m late again?! Oh, old man Qiren really is going to punish me hard this time!” he groans, urgency weighing down on his voice. It isn’t until several seconds after he stands up to hastily scan his surroundings and robes, he pauses and throws Sizhui a perplexed expression. His nose twitches just once, while his bottom lip juts out into an embarrassed pout—a childish look that he hasn’t outgrown after years, though Sizhui frankly adores seeing him wear it. “...Liar.”
And in another moment where he finds himself hopelessly enraptured by Jingyi’s temperament, his radiant warmth, subtle eccentricities, Sizhui realizes he’s a little too weak for this person. He really should tell him.
However, he simply clears his throat and lets out a light laugh, his initially serious visage melting away instantly. “In my defense, I didn’t think you’d believe me so easily.” It’s a valid excuse, seeing as he’d always fluster way too effortlessly in the past. Thankfully that aspect of him has developed considerably, compliments to too much time spent around his fathers.
“Hm. I was having a nice dream too.” Jingyi doesn’t do much more than huff quietly before recollecting himself and sitting down across Sizhui. The latter watches as he sits upright for only a moment before bending over to set an elbow on the table, cheek resting on the top of his hand and shutting his eyes once again. Sizhui chooses not to comment on his habitually bad posture, distracted by the thickness of his eyelashes instead. The way the evening sun's golden hue reflects off them makes Sizhui wonder how it would feel to have those very lashes tickle his lips, though he quickly brushes off the frivolous thought.
Although, he genuinely should— needs to tell Jingyi. Continuing to conceal it brings no benefits to either parties, and even if the feelings are not mutual, they’re still best friends. Jingyi deserves to know.
“Jingyi,” Sizhui begins, sucking in a soft breath. He leans in a bit closer, gaze planted on the other whose own eyes are still relaxed and closed. Admittedly, a little guilt creeps into his chest at the thought of dropping such a bomb on the otherwise unaware boy. Simultaneously, the obligation to do the right thing tugs at him.
“I really like you.”
“So...”
Silence surrounds the room following Sizhui’s confession, though the clamor in his heart reverberates repeatedly. He can feel a little warmth rise to his cheeks, tinting them a warm pink. In retrospect, he can’t blame Jingyi for the lack of response. A confession like this would surprise anyone, especially one from Sizhui himself.
Except his stare lingers on the motionless Jingyi, whose face doesn’t so much as twitch and eyes don’t open, even a minute later.
“...Jingyi?” Sizhui tests again, heading tilting. He’d prepared for rejection, but not a response that was no response at all. Maybe it really was too inappropriate of a subject to spring on the other.
Watching the steady rise and fall of the male’s chest in awkward silence, a realization strikes him.
Is Jingyi, perhaps... asleep?
His static body language certainly suggests so.
Sizhui exhales, breath a mixture of relief and bemusement. He also fights the need to pinch the bridge of his nose, because this is undoubtedly something Jingyi would do—accidentally doze off as someone professes their affections to him. Of course , of all moments, leave it to Sizhui to confess in the wrong one.
Unsure of how to continue anyway, he decides to speak no further. There will always be opportunities later, after all. He then stands up and flattens out his robes, before his eyes slowly trail over Jingyi. Considering Sizhui is culpable for disrupting his brief nap earlier, waking him up again might not be desirable. Add on the fact that he’d have to directly face an oblivious Jingyi after what he’d just disclosed, Sizhui decides it’s a battle best saved for another day. However, dusk is approaching quickly and leaving his friend to be found in a classroom after curfew proves just as unappealing.
Hence, he resorts to the next option that comes to mind. He kneels down, gently urging Jingyi from his position at the desk, and heaves him into his arms in one swift motion. One hand rests securely under his back while the other below his knees. Sizhui shrugs one of Jingyi’s arms over his own shoulder so that it brushes the nape of his neck. His mind travels back to the time he’d struggled carrying the other on his back in Yi City, and suddenly feels grateful for all the handstand punishments he’s endured since. Fortunately Jingyi is a heavy sleeper, and seemingly hasn’t startled much through all of this. Sizhui smiles tenderly at the sight, finding his neutral sleeping face accompanied by a naturally blushy nose rather adorable.
Walking towards the classroom’s exit, he first pokes his head out the door to scope out the vicinity. Luckily it is dining hour and most of the sect is indoors having their meal. Apart from a few disciples wandering about, Sizhui deems it safe enough to meander back to their own sleeping quarters. If anyone should ask, he’ll just explain that Jingyi was feeling sick and wanted to retire early, for the sake of saving himself some face.
He readjusts his grip on the other before heading out, his countenance overtaken by his typical amicable demeanor in order to appear as seemly as possible. Nudging the door open with his shoulder, Sizhui only takes one step forward before something tugs at his forehead ribbon and yanks his head down—another pair of lips meeting his own, all in the blink of an eye.
It’s a jerky and rough closed-mouth peck that lasts for only a second before Sizhui pulls back, eyes wide and unblinking. He’s moments away from stumbling backwards and collapsing into the door, breathing out a long sigh for managing to not drop Jingyi flat onto the hardwood floor.
On the other hand, he’s too awestruck to comprehend much of anything right now. With his head still hovering inches above the other’s, the expression on his face must look extremely comical. The only explicit conclusion he comes to is that Jingyi had definitely not been sleeping.
The two continue gawking at one another, until Jingyi finally speaks up.
“Um, I—that—!” he stumbles, his own flustered face reflective of Sizhui’s. He twiddles Sizhui’s forehead ribbon around his finger as if searching for more words to say, but for once, Jingyi seems at a loss. He merely ends up settling deeper in his arms.
“Ah,” Sizhui coughs, not helping the situation at hand. His lips are still slightly parted from shock, and he raises a hand to brush over them, almost disbelieving. “Then, I take it you heard what I said.”
At this, an apprehensive look of guilt crosses Jingyi’s face and he squeezes his eyes shut once before replying. “I did,” he confesses. “I was really amazed and didn’t know what to say! And since I’m a fool, you know, I stayed quiet for too long and eventually...decided to play it off as just sleeping.” His voice trails off meekly at the last part, gaze averting away in an embarrassed manner. “Didn’t think you’d believe me .”
“Well, you are pretty good at feigning sleep,” Sizhui jokes in mild amusement, uncertain as to where this conversation is leading. “If you don’t feel the same, you can just tell me. I will not take offense.”
The sheepish look Jingyi dons is quickly replaced by a weary one. “Sizhui? I’m not sure how good your memory is, but I just kissed you.” He fiddles with the forehead ribbon some more before slowly drawing circles on Sizhui’s chest. “I thought that was kind of universal for ‘ I like you too. ’”
Indeed, that is true. Jingyi really did that. Up until now, the prospect of him reciprocating Sizhui’s affections, let alone initiating a kiss, has seemed near impossible. For it all to occur so out of the blue, Sizhui hasn’t processed it fully.
“...You do?” he questions, just for absolute confirmation that he hasn’t been transported into a fantastical dreamscape or anything of the sort.
Jingyi peers up at him and nods rapidly, his eyes fluttering open and closed and his face the epitome of angelic. “Lans can’t lie. Otherwise, I probably would have jumped out of your arms by now.”
“Oh. Right, sorry,” Sizhui apologizes, snapping out of his brief trance and realizing he still has the male trapped in his firm hold. He moves to carefully set the other down back onto his feet, while working to pacify his amalgamation of emotions. The two share another extended moment of silence thereafter, both overcome by surprise and speechlessness.
“I didn’t want to wake you up again. You seemed worn out, and I was only going to take you back to your room, nothing else,” Sizhui quickly explains, a minorly nervous grin playing on his lips. Only after he verbalizes it does he realize how suggestive the implication sounds.
Jingyi seems to pick up on this as well, to which he arches a brow. “I-I know that, of course!” he claims, fixing his hair and robes. His cheeks are kissed pink like a spring rose, the blooming color remarkably lovely against his fair skin. “It’s alright. Being held like that, by you, felt nice,” he admits with a slight shrug.
This comment, along with the subtle timidity of Jingyi’s actions, warms Sizhui’s heart more than he’d like to admit. “I’m glad.” He makes a mental note to do it some more.
“Lan Sizhui,” Jingyi firmly states, sudden fondness seeping through his tone. He steps forward, throwing both arms over Sizhui’s shoulder. He stands at just the right height to rest his head in the crook of Sizhui’s neck. Then in a somewhat muffled voice, he unexpectedly says, “I really like you!”
Sizhui welcomes this simple gesture readily, softly placing his hands on Jingyi’s slender waist and pulling him close. Despite the tenseness in his stomach from doing all of this for the first time, it flutters at the feeling of Jingyi’s body pressed against his so intimately.
“I really like you too.”
There’s a peculiar wave of déjà vu that washes over him as he says this for some reason, but he casts it aside and just focuses on savoring the euphoric feeling entangled in his chest, as well as the beat of Jingyi’s heart against his own. He gently guides a hand through the boy’s ponytail, which is unbelievably silky and free of tangles, and subsequently resists the urge to pull loose the ribbon holding it up. He suddenly begins to understand why his fathers have such a hard time with self-control in public.
“...As if I deserve you,” Jingyi’s voice pipes up again, and the look of contentment on Sizhui’s face quickly dampens.
“What?”
“You like me as if I deserve you.”
Sizhui loosens the embrace a little to glance at the other, not expecting to hear something like that from him. “Jingyi. I can’t see myself speaking these words to anyone else. In fact, you’re the only one deserving of them.” His eyes lock with Jingyi’s, mild uncertainty visible in the sun-kissed brown.
“Mm,” Jingyi mumbles in response, biting his lower lip momentarily. “You’re sure? I mean, you’re already so great and you’ll definitely be sect leader in the future! There will be so many chances later on. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”
Sizhui’s heart sinks a little hearing this. For as long as he’s known Jingyi, the male has always been carefree and never expressed self-doubt to this extent. The last thing Sizhui wants is for himself to be the reason. Jingyi possesses so many positive attributes that Sizhui wishes wouldn’t be overlooked; there is no reason Sizhui would ever deceive him. “Since when were you one to second guess?” he merely asks, keeping his tone lighthearted.
“Well—”
“Even if I do become sect leader, that would have no effect on my personal feelings,” Sizhui cuts him off with a serious undertone. “Authority won’t guide my heart elsewhere either. Right now I want to be with you, later on I will still want to be with you. So don’t demean yourself like that.” He softly brushes Jingyi’s bangs back and tucks them behind his ears, gazing at him with a smile that radiates nothing short of absolute fondness.
“I...okay.” Jingyi leans into the touch, his prior expression seemingly soothed by the words of reassurance. He follows up with an airy chuckle, hands caressing the back of Sizhui’s neck almost ticklishly. “You’re talented in so many ways. Who knew you were such a romantic as well? I think Hanguang-Jun and Senior Wei are rubbing off on you.”
Sizhui joins in on the laughter because as ridiculous as it sounds, the statement is painstakingly accurate. He often catches and witnesses more of the two’s moments than he’d prefer. Even so, he can somewhat see where they are coming from. “Is that so bad? They’re tolerable sometimes,” he teases, again pulling the shorter one close to his chest, basking in the bliss of sharing such an exchange of joy with him.
“Ehh. I guess so,” Jingyi says with a small pout, to which Sizhui steals the opportunity to plant a smooch on his lips that’s longer-lasting than their first one. His hands cradle the other’s sides and raise him up slightly so that their faces are more level and their foreheads bump, which earns a soft yelp from Jingyi that only makes Sizhui want to hold him even tighter. He pampers his face with even more delicate butterfly-like kisses, and Jingyi lets out heavenly laughs that encompass relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth.
Needless to say, Sizhui is glad he told him.
