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This was all Nie Huaisang’s fault. Him and his stupid betting ring.
Well, to be fair, there had been many more people involved in the chain of events that had led to his current situation— being stalked through the dark by what was probably a ghost— but as Wei Wuxian held his breath, crouching behind a couch and waiting for movement in the darkness, it was hard for him not to blame his friend just a little.
It had first begun when he’d stumbled on Wen Chao leaning threateningly over his friend in the boy’s bathroom. Nie Huaisang was cowering back, eyes large and worried as he stammered.
“Look— I can’t give you back your money, I already gave it to Luo Qingyang. I mean, she won the bet! And if I just give it back to you, won’t people say you’re a cheat?”
Wen Chao snarled under his breath, and Wei Wuxian, having had enough of his particular brand of bullying in the past few months, started forward.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, and both boys turned to look at him, Nie Huaisang’s face breaking into a look of relief, and Wen Chao’s into a glare.
“Another Chang mansion bet,” Nie Huaisang explained, taking the opportunity to skitter away from Wen Chao. “Luo Qingyang bet Wen Chao he couldn’t stay in there for an hour. She won.”
The abandoned Chang mansion had always been a source of rumours and bets in their school. Some said that an entire clan had been murdered there, every last person, and their tormented screams could be heard echoing throughout the district on lonely nights. Wei Wuxian had never been particularly bothered by the place, though. After all, the Jiangs’ house was only a few streets away and he’d never heard so much as a whisper from the place. He snorted in derision. “Really? You couldn’t even make it an hour?”
Wen Chao glowered at him. “Like you could make it half as long, you little—”
“Oh, I could.” Wei Wuxian shrugged cockily.
“Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang began worriedly, but Wei Wuxian cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“I could stay in there all night, never mind an hour!” he announced.
Wen Chao grit his teeth, glaring. “Then stay the whole night!”
“I will,” Wei Wuxian agreed. Then he stepped closer, tilting his head to glare up at Wen Chao. “But if I do, you have to stop bothering the Jiangs. Stop spreading gossip, stop making fun of them— don’t even look at them. And you have to give them an apology. In public. Got it?”
“Fine,” Wen Chao sneered. “But if I win…” He thought about it for a second, before his face broke out into an ugly smirk. “If I win, you have to be my servant for the entire year. How’s that? Scared?”
“Nope!” Wei Wuxian said cheerily. “Nie Huaisang, record it down and spread the news!”
“You guys know most people just bet with money, right?” Nie Huaisang wondered, then raised his hands defensively as the two of them frowned at him. “Okay, fine, whatever!”
“I’ll be expecting that apology tomorrow! Somewhere with a lot of people!” Wei Wuxian grinned and flounced away to tell Jiang Cheng the news, nearly bumping into Lan Wangji— who’d apparently been hovering in the doorway the whole time—in his hurry.
Wei Wuxian normally did not think of himself as a particularly vindictive person, but he would make an exception for Wen Chao, who had been rubbing the Jiang family’s financial problems in his siblings’ faces the entire semester. Jiang Fengmian had done his best to keep details of what was going on away from his children, so all they knew for certain was that the Wen family had mounted a hostile takeover of the Jiangs’ firm and that the Jiangs were probably going to lose their company, and possibly a lot more than that. The entirety of the past few months had been incredibly stressful, with the Jiang family cutting expenses and struggling to adjust to their new reality. Yu Ziyuan, never a mellow woman to begin with, had taken to storming through the company halls, workers scurrying like ants before her wrath. She’d made it clear on more than one occasion that in her opinion, Wei Wuxian was the first expense the Jiang family ought to cut.
Wei Wuxian had just hoped that this one tiny victory would be enough to at least make Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli’s lives a little easier. Instead he was probably going to get murdered by a ghost. Well, Madam Yu would likely be pleased.
He’d arrived at the house at sundown to jeers from Wen Chao and his friends, and pried open the front door to find an almost-empty house that had clearly been abandoned for some time. There was very little furniture about, and a thick layer of dust had settled on every available surface of the place. None of the lights were working, but he had expected that, and had brought along a flashlight in addition to his phone. The beam bounced around as he walked, illuminating dust, dull beige walls, and not much more. Wei Wuxian wandered through the front hall and into the kitchen, finding bare cupboards and a refrigerator that, considering the state of the rest of the house, he was slightly afraid to open.
It was all kind of disappointing, he thought to himself, walking out of the kitchen and into what looked to be the living room. There was a couch up against the wall, draped in white fabric. No blood-soaked apparitions, no eerie laughter in the distance. Underwhelming to say the least.
Then, almost as though the universe had been waiting for him to think something unfortunate, there was a soft thump in the distance. Wei Wuxian dove behind the couch instinctively, and had listened with baited breath as the sounds had drifted ever closer. Which finally brought him to where he currently was, crouched behind the sofa and weighing the benefits of staying against those of leaving.
There was a flash of white in the distance, and the soft whisper of fabric rustling. Making up his mind, Wei Wuxian swallowed hard, gathering his courage and snatching up his lamp. He lunged out from behind the couch and took a wild swing at whatever was in the dark, half-expecting his hand to pass straight through them. Fuck, Jiang Cheng would be so annoyed if he were killed by a ghost.
Instead, his arm was grabbed before he could land his hit, and he found himself staring up into wide golden eyes.
“Lan Zhan?” he yelped, embarrassingly.
Lan Wangji released his arm. “Wei Ying?”
Wei Wuxian heaved a sigh of relief, sagging against the wall. “You really scared me! What are you even doing here?”
“Wen Chao and his friends wanted to come here and cause you trouble,” Lan Wangji answered. “I came to stop them.”
“All by yourself?” Wei Wuxian laughed. “Not that you couldn’t take them all on in a fight. I mean, I’ve seen you in gym, after all!” He’d actually been unable to take his eyes off Lan Wangji in gym. Jiang Cheng had thwacked him across the head and dragged him away before anyone could notice, because he was a good brother.
Lan Wangji looked amused, which on anyone else would have been peals of hysterical laughter. “It was unnecessary. They were too afraid to enter. And they ran away as soon as I showed up.”
That explained the screaming. “Well, Lan Zhan, you are wearing white. Who wears a white jacket, anyway? They probably thought you were a ghost!” That had definitely been what he had thought. Wei Wuxian chose not to mention this.
Lan Wangji only shrugged impassively. Wei Wuxian looked at him in amusement. “Well, thank you for the help, Lan Zhan! You didn’t have to come.”
“I will stay for the night as well,” Lan Wangji said firmly. “In case they return.”
Wei Wuxian blinked at him. “Really?” he said, oddly touched. After all, everyone knew the other boy had hated him with a passion all throughout school.
The first time Wei Wuxian had laid eyes on Lan Wangji, he’d taken one look at the boy without a hair out of place and felt the irrepressible urge to mess him up. He’d responded to the urge by getting in a fight with him on that very day, the only black mark on Lan Wangji’s record to this day. Then he’d spent the rest of his time at school trying playfully to encourage Lan Wangji to repeat his transgression, to no avail, although sometimes he’d actually managed to provoke emotion from the other boy. He’d always considered it a huge accomplishment, no matter what his friends had said. But apart from those few incidents, Lan Wangji had mostly ignored him with impressive stoicism, a fact which had only spurred Wei Wuxian on.
In the past few months, however, Lan Wangji had been… kind, almost. Nie Huaisang had told him in a half-whisper during class that whenever the others at their school had begun gossiping about the Jiangs and their problems, Lan Wangji had come down hard on them. They had started spending lunches together, and sometimes when Wei Wuxian had been exhausted from trying to keep Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli’s spirits up, Lan Wangji had inexplicably turned up and just sat with him in silence. He’d never liked silence before, but Lan Wangji never demanded anything else from him, and that was strangely comforting.
Lan Wangji really was the best person he knew, he thought fondly, something warm settling in his chest. It was a thought that struck him from time to time, how lucky he was to count him as a friend. He knew better than to want more. Lan Wangji almost seemed to like him, these days, and that was more than good enough.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asked, and Wei Wuxian snapped back to himself, realising he had just been staring soppily at the other boy in a daze.
“Sorry! I was just thinking. About, about…” He scrambled for something to say. “About the bet. Wen Chao’s definitely left, right?”
“Yes.”
“So that’s taken care of. We should find a place to sleep for the night.”
Lan Wangji was frowning. “Going upstairs in such an unstable structure would not be wise.”
“No kidding,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “But we could always just camp out in the living room for the night.”
“It will not be comfortable.”
“What, you’ve never passed out on a sofa before?” Wei Wuxian grins. “It’s not so bad, I promise.” He eyed Lan Wangji speculatively. “Though it might be a tight squeeze. I might have to lie on top of you, Lan Zhan!” Pressed up against Lan Wangji all night, close enough to listen to the thrum of his heartbeat as he drifted off to sleep… Wei Wuxian swallowed hard.
“No need,” Lan Wangji replied stiffly, a splash of cold water to the face. “I will take the floor.”
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian deflated. He’d forgotten Lan Wangji could barely tolerate him on a good day. “Okay, then.”
The two of them gathered pillows and blankets from one of the bedrooms upstairs, careful not to step anywhere too unstable. Then they settled themselves in the dank, musty living room, Wei Wuxian on the sofa, blatantly sulking because Lan Wangji had refused to let him build a blanket fort. He snuggled into his suspicious-smelling blankets, pouting.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said from the floor. Wei Wuxian huffed.
“My blanket fort idea was not unfeasible.”
“It was.”
“Was not!”
“There is nowhere to hang the blankets. There is very little furniture.”
Wei Wuxian made a face. “This is a pretty lousy haunted house, don’t you think, Lan Zhan? There should be creepy dolls, blood coming from the walls, a few scary paintings at least! All there is in here is space and dirt and lousy beds and things. So disappointing.”
“I imagine the owners took their creepy dolls with them when they moved,” Lan Wangji said blandly.
Wei Wuxian perked up. “Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?” Lan Wangji only looked at him, offering up just a slight curve of his lips. Wei Wuxian beamed, sitting up and letting the blankets fall. “You smiled! That’s only the eleventh time I’ve seen you smile!”
Lan Wangji tilted his head a little, considering. “You have been counting my smiles?”
“Ah, is that weird?” Wei Wuxian slid his gaze away, fidgeting. “It’s only because you don’t do it a lot. It’s not like I pay a lot of attention to you or anything!”
“Mn,” he replied. He sounded more subdued than usual, and Wei Wuxian squinted through the darkness at him, wishing he could make out more of his face.
“Are you okay, Lan Zhan?” he wondered. “Do you want the sofa? I can sleep on the floor if you really don’t want to sleep up here…”
“No.” Lan Wangji’s voice was firm. “You should be comfortable.”
“But how am I supposed to be comfortable when you’re uncomfortable?” Wei Wuxian whined. “Please just come sleep with me, already!”
There is a long pause.
“…Okay,” Lan Wangji said finally, very quietly.
Wei Wuxian let out a delighted noise and threw himself back down on the couch, enthusiastically wriggling to the side and patting the empty space next to him. “Come on, then!”
Lan Wangji got up, approaching him hesitantly. He settled himself on the couch, doing his best not to touch Wei Wuxian as he did so. Unfortunately for him, the sofa was far too narrow for it to work, and he ended up pressed against Wei Wuxian’s side, body stiff. Wei Wuxian could feel the tension in his muscles even through the blankets. “Is it so bad, having to touch me?” he asked. He smiled, but it felt stiff. “I mean, there are worse people to be stuck with, right?”
“It is not bad.” Lan Wangji snaked an arm carefully around Wei Wuxian’s side, tugging him nearer. “And I would not do this with anyone else but Wei Ying.”
“Really?” Wei Wuxian turned to bury his smile into Lan Wangji’s shoulder, something warm lighting in his chest. “I’m honoured, Lan Zhan!”
Lan Wangji said nothing, so Wei Wuxian pressed closer, shameless. They settled into silence, and Wei Wuxian shut his eyes at the feel of Lan Wangji nearer than he ever had been before, his breath flitting over Wei Wuxian’s hair, his body warm against his. It was too much, and he searched for a distraction, suddenly desperate.
“I’ve been meaning to thank you!” he said, settling on something that was pretty much true. “Not just for tonight, I mean. For everything you’ve done.”
There was a long pause, and then Lan Wangji replied, voice oddly strained. “There is no need for thanks.”
“You’ve been really good to us these past few months.” Wei Wuxian swallowed hard around an unexpected lump in his throat. “I just wanted to say I’m grateful.”
“There is no need.” Lan Wangji’s body was a rigid line next to him, but Wei Wuxian barrelled on, heedless.
“There is a need!” he exclaimed. Lan Wangi fell silent and he continued. “You didn’t have to help, but you did. You made school a lot easier for the Jiangs! They were so upset by all the talk— but you really—”
“Shut up.”
It was a whisper, but it was so harsh that Wei Wuxian cut himself off immediately. He stared up at Lan Wangji, only inches from him yet somehow unrecognisable.
“Sorry?” he said uncertainly, but the other boy’s face twitched in fury.
“Shut up,” Lan Wangji said again, as though it was the only thing he could say. Fuck, he’d broken Lan Wangji. Lan Qiren was going to kill him.
“Lan Zhan,” he started apologetically, but then Lan Wangji was on top of him, flipping him easily, and he’d lost all sense, head spinning. The other boy stared down at him, breathing heavily, eyes more furious than Wei Wuxian had ever seen, and all he could do was make a faint, confused sound of inquiry.
“I was not doing it for them,” Lan Wangji snapped, and kissed him.
It was as though his brain had short-circuited. He couldn’t think. There was just Lan Wangji’s mouth on his, fierce and hungry, everything he’d ever wanted falling into his lap like a dream. A hint of teeth against his bottom lip made him gasp into the kiss, and Lan Wangji shamelessly took advantage of it, licking into Wei Wuxian’s mouth. Wei Wuxian made a soft sound of delight, melting into it helplessly.
He desperately wanted to touch, but Lan Wangji’s grip around his wrists was iron-tight, and so he struggled to get his hands free—but then there was a sharp intake of breath, and Lan Wangji jerked back, face white. He pushed himself off the couch and was halfway across the room before Wei Wuxian had even registered the loss.
“W-wait!” Then, scrambling to his feet in a sudden fear that Lan Wangji would run away and the two of them would never talk about this again— “Lan Zhan, wait!”
Lan Wangji must have heard his distress, because he stopped, his shoulders hunched defensively, almost as though he expected a blow. Wei Wuxian unentangled himself from his blankets, clumsy in his desperation, and scrambled over to him, grabbing his arm. Lan Wangji reluctantly allowed himself to be turned.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, his stomach lurching at the stricken expression on his face. He reached up to cup Lan Wangji’s face in his hands. “Did I— what happened, why did you stop?”
“I—” Lan Wangji cut himself off, face white. “I should not have—” He swallowed hard. “I should not have.”
Wei Wuxian’s hands fell to his sides. “Oh.” Well. It wasn’t like it was a surprise. Lan Wangji was the best person he knew, without question, and Wei Wuxian— well. He was the idiot who had taken the bet to sleep in a run-down old house for the night on the stupid hope it might cheer his brother up. Whatever strange impulse had struck Lan Wangji, it was over now and honestly, he ought to consider himself lucky for even having had this much. “Sorry,” he added dully, struggling valiantly to be cheerful about it. Lan Wangji was right. He deserved a lot more than Wei Wuxian could give him.
“I made you,” Lan Wangji said, breaking into his train of thought. “It was my fault. I am the one who should apologise.”
Wei Wuxian stared in blank confusion. “Ah— what? You made me?”
Lan Wangji nodded, clenching his fists. He refused to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes, even when the other boy stepped closer, trying to read his face. “I knew better, but I wanted—” He shut his eyes. “I am sorry.” He made to turn around again, but Wei Wuxian held him still, heart suddenly pounding in his chest.
“Wait,” he said. “So you thought I didn’t want you to kiss me back there? You thought you were hurting me?”
Lan Wangji nodded again. “Sorry,” he whispered, biting his lip. He looked near tears, and Wei Wuxian’s heart twisted.
“No, no—” He stepped forward, leaning up to press sweet, coaxing kisses across Lan Wangji’s face, to wind his hands into the softness of his hair. “Lan Zhan, don’t be upset. I liked it. I like it, I want it, don’t leave, please.” His lips found Lan Wangji’s again, and Lan Wangji finally softened, curling his arms around Wei Wuxian and clinging. Wei Wuxian could feel the tremble of uncertainty still in his movements, and so he set about kissing it out of him as thoroughly as he could. “Don’t leave,” he implored again, breathless, and this time Lan Wangji made a soft sound of acquiescence and proceeded to pin Wei Wuxian against the wall and kiss him so thoroughly that he was limp at the end of it.
They only broke apart when Wei Wuxian nearly slipped on the damp, mildew-encrusted floor and slammed their heads together, and they both realised that they were, in fact, still in the grimy living room of a supposedly haunted house.
Wei Wuxian sputtered out a laugh, rubbing at Lan Wangji’s head. “I guess we should leave this for when we’re in a better place, right?”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji agreed, catching Wei Wuxian’s hand. “It does not hurt, Wei Ying.”
“Good,” Wei Wuxian said, leaning up to press a kiss to the injury. “Now, should we get back to winning this bet?”
Lan Wangji nodded, winding his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s and tugging him back towards the couch, where they both became awkward about lying next to each other all over again, until Wei Wuxian finally laughed and snuggled shamelessly into Lan Wangji, who let out a soft sigh of contentment, wrapping his arms around him.
“Um,” Wei Wuxian said nervously, once they were settled, thinking with some apprehension about all the times he’d bragged about sleeping around. “Lan Zhan—"
But Lan Wanji’s eyes were all softness. “Sleep, Wei Ying.”
He relaxed. “Okay then.”
They drifted off to sleep like that, hands still clasped.
Some hours later, Wei Wuxian blinked awake to the buzz of his phone, trapped somewhere under the couch cushions. Mouth fuzzy and eyes bleary, he buried his head into Lan Wangji’s chest, making incoherent whining noises. Without opening his eyes, Lan Wangji stroked a hand through Wei Wuxian’s hair. “You should answer that. It could be important.”
“Don’t want to,” he mumbled. His phone buzzed again, insistent, and Lan Wangji jostled him gently. Wei Wuxian groaned and fumbled for it, cracking one eye open to scroll through his messages.
Jiang Cheng: wake up moron
Jiang Cheng: my parents found out you snuck out
Jiang Cheng: did the ghost get you
Jiang Cheng: you’d better not be dead im not gonna explain that to a-jie
Jiang Cheng: actually it might be better if the ghost got you a-niang is pissed
“Uh-oh,” Wei Wuxian croaked. He typed out a quick message to let Jiang Cheng know he wasn’t dead and slumped back down onto Lan Wangji’s chest. Now that he was more awake, he could see that it was already morning. Motes of dust whirled through the air through shafts of sunlight drifting in from the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The room was a lot less eerie lit-up like this.
He caught sight of his reflection in his phone and winced. His hair was sticking up on one side, and there were creases on his face from resting his head on Lan Wangji’s clothes. He looked like a wreck.
“What is it?” Lan Wangji peered down at him. Unlike Wei Wuxian, he was ethereal in the morning sunlight, dark hair unruffled and white jacket pristine even after a night in an abandoned building. Wei Wuxian grinned at the sight of him.
“Good morning kiss?” he asked, and Lan Wangji obediently leaned down to oblige him, a faint trace of a smile on his face. Wei Wuxian made a happy noise and sprawled across him as they kissed, gleefully marking his territory.
The two of them broke apart when Wei Wuxian’s phone started buzzing again crossly. He groaned, leaning down to check his messages.
Jiang Cheng: is lan wangji with you?!?!
Jiang Cheng: answer me!!!! lan qiren is here!!!!!
Jiang Cheng: holy shit you’re really dead this time he’s even more pissed than a-niang
“Uh-oh,” Wei Wuxian said again faintly, and handed his phone to Lan Wangji so he could see.
“Brother must have told him,” Lan Wangji said, seemingly unconcerned with his uncle’s rage. “He cannot keep a secret.”
“I’m going to get into so much trouble for this!” Wei Wuxian wailed dramatically, throwing himself down onto the sofa. “Madam Yu and your uncle are going to murder me! What do I do?”
Lan Wangji only lifted Wei Wuxian’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, tenderly. “Whether there is trouble or not,” he answered. “I will be with you.”
Wei Wuxian flushed hard, fighting to contain his smile. “Lan Zhan! You can’t just say things like that!”
Lan Wangji did not appear at all swayed by this line of reasoning, but he decided he could live with that. There was probably going to be a lot of yelling in his future, but he had successfully pissed off Wen Chao, and Lan Wangji was still holding on to his hand, running his thumb gently over his knuckles, looking happier than he’d ever seen before.
Yeah, Wei Wuxian thought fondly. It was going to be a good day.