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They first met beneath the snow-covered branches, fluttering white falling around them.
When the boy looked up to see Lan Huan, his eyes were wide and beautiful and Lan Huan fell into the deep ocean blues without a thought.
Nervousness got the better of him and he couldn’t help fussing over the lonely child, covering the shivering body with his own cloak. Even as the snow began to seep into his clothes, Lan Huan could only feel warmth when the boy gifted him a slight smile. His heart guiding his words before his brain could work again, he didn’t realise his misstep until the boy threw his coat off and down onto the ground.
He couldn’t get angry though. Not when the lovely boy looked on the verge of tears, so with his heart bleeding for his newfound treasure, Lan Huan carefully picked up the coat and pulled it over him again. This time, he kept it on, and Lan Huan beamed.
“No one wants to give me a letter,” he heard the desolate murmur, soft and fragile as the snowflakes falling over them.
Before he could say anything, the boy lifted his head at the sound of an adult’s voice. He quickly gave back and turned to leave, and only then did Lan Huan manage to make his voice work again.
“What’s your name?”
The boy paused. Turning his head to glance over at him, Lan Huan thought his heart stopped when a gentle streak of light fell on the boy’s face, making those beautiful eyes shine like scattering rays over the sea.
“Jiang Cheng. Thank you for helping me, Huan-gege.”
It was only once the boy left, that Lan Huan realised he was late to meet his father. And all of a sudden, the lightness in his heart was so much more important than seeing his father.
This was love, he was sure. Which meant that Lan Huan had to make Jiang Cheng happy, so that he could see that beautiful smile just one more time.
All the adults liked to tell Lan Huan that his handwriting looked very nice. But as he wrote the little (love?) letter for Jiang Cheng, his hands wouldn’t stop trembling. He stared in despair at the mess of words, the amount of glitter he poured onto the page twinkling with cruel laughter.
He wanted to redo it, but he had to sneak it into Jiang Cheng’s letterbox before all the other kids came. Thankfully, the preschool had placed the cute little letterboxes outside beneath a shelter, a bright purple box with crudely-drawn lightning bolts and puppies on it calling out to him.
Cooing over the clumsy lettering of Jiang Cheng’s name, he placed the letter gently into the thing opening, poking the beautiful wrapped chocolate pieces he brought from the nice lady across the street into the box with it. Lan Huan wasn’t certain the boy would like chocolates but it was all he could get.
Hiding further away behind the tree, he waited for Jiang Cheng to trudge to his letterbox. He stopped in front of it, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as if he didn’t know whether to open it or not.
Please open it, Lan Huan willed the boy to hear his words, and almost clapped when Jiang Cheng did so. Then he threw the box open and grabbed the letter and chocolates, running up to the teacher and bouncing a bit as he showed her his gifts.
Lan Huan melted at the sight of those red cheeks, thinking that it was worth getting glue and glitter all over his hands, and barely remembered that he had to get to his classroom. He was almost late but the dopey smile on his face was enough for the teacher to excuse him. Lan Huan really, really hoped Jiang Cheng would like his letter.
“Huan-gege!”
He stepped back as the slight blur tackled him, the warm hug shocking him into silence. Lan Huan stared down and met a cheerful smile, eyes bright and shining like the moon.
“Huan-gege, I got a letter!”
Lan Huan mourned the loss of warmth when Jiang Cheng stepped back, but let the smile on his face stretch into a grin. As if waiting for that, Jiang Cheng instantly began to chatter about the letter, holding it with such tenderness as if unable to bear creasing it.
Jiang Cheng even handed Lan Huan one of the chocolates, saying that Huan-gege must be lucky because he got a letter after meeting him. Though his eyes dimmed when he said he probably wouldn’t get another letter again, Jiang Cheng’s smile didn’t leave his face even when he ran out of the gates to get picked up.
From then on, Lan Huan spent every night working on his letters, making them look nicer with what little decorations he owned and writing until his hands were sore.
“Huan-gege,” Jiang Cheng turned to him, a gentle flush on his cheeks after reading the latest letter, which had almost been shredded after Lan Huan realised how many hearts he left on it, “do you think this person likes me?”
Was he too obvious?
“Why do you ask?” He smiled at Jiang Cheng, panicking inside as he tried to remember what he wrote on this one. His heart often went out of control while he wrote the letters, a shameful loss of restraint that he couldn’t help indulging in.
“Well...I just, I think I like them too...”
He couldn’t breathe. Lan Huan beamed and honestly said, “I think this person likes you a lot too! They gave you so many letters and chocolates, I’m sure of it!”
Lan Huan burned the memory of his grin in his brain and swore he would do whatever it took to keep the little boy happy and smiling.
That night, father told them that they were going back home.
He didn’t understand at first. But then, remembering all his calls to his mother, who always looked so alone even when she smiled, he realised what had happened.
There was no time for goodbyes. They left as soon as their father heard the news, bags already packed and car loaded. Lan Huan didn’t know if his little brother understood what was happening, so young he was, so he stuck close to him as they got into the car and drove away, heart heavy with regrets and a deep yearning.
When he left the boy behind, Lan Huan wondered if Jiang Cheng would miss him as much as he missed the joyful smile that lit his world.
***
Fate was cruel.
Consumed with grief, his father secluded himself from both of them and Lan Huan knew that he would not be able to go back to his love. Of course, he wanted to go back to Jiang Cheng, call him, send him a letter so that he knew Lan Huan didn’t leave him because he wanted to. But he didn’t know how to contact him since he didn’t even know where the boy lived, his uncle could not take him back since he was busy with work, and his little brother was...
Well, he couldn’t leave Lan Zhan alone. So he resigned himself to never seeing the boy again and focused on making sure his brother was happy as he could be. His brother loved their mother so much after all, so young and quiet and sensitive, Lan Huan had to take care of him.
(Yes, he lost his mother too. But that wasn’t, couldn’t be as important as Lan Zhan’s grief, so Lan Huan smiled and took care of his brother while the world around them collapsed.)
It wasn’t until years later when Lan Zhan told him about someone he met during summer classes, a boy who was disobedient, mischievous and smiled brighter than the sun, that Lan Huan saw his brother so happy.
Perhaps, he thought when he saw the familiar gloomy faced boy sitting next to the jubilant delinquent, it was fate. The moment Jiang Cheng glanced over at him, those ocean eyes lighting up with joyful surprise, Lan Huan knew that this was his second chance.
He couldn’t fall for the boy again, because he had never stopped loving him in the first place.
“Lan Huan,” he greeted in a shy, respectful tone when Lan Zhan came to see him after classes ended, Wei Ying trailing behind. “It’s been a while.”
“Eh, you didn’t tell me you knew Lan Zhan’s brother! Jiang Cheng, now you’re hiding things from your brother too, how mean!” Wei Ying whined, resting his elbow on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and almost falling when the younger one shrugged him off. Lan Huan’s lips twitched into an amused smile, and he turned his gaze towards Jiang Cheng.
“Yes, Jiang Cheng and I met a long time ago, back when my brother and I lived elsewhere with our father.” He couldn’t turn away from Jiang Cheng, not now that he’s finally with him again. “Unfortunately, we had to move back because of some family issues, and our father thought it was better to return.”
There was so much more than that, of course. But it was enough to get that weight off his chest, that aching guilt of leaving Jiang Cheng without a word. He hoped he didn’t imagine the flicker of relief in Jiang Cheng’s eyes.
“I see I see,” Wei Ying nodded and a wide mischievous grin lit his face up. “Oh, A-Jie told me that he used to get love letters when he was younger! Did you see them?”
“Wei Ying!” Jiang Cheng shouted, loud and indignant, but Lan Huan saw the slight flush on his cheeks. He stared as the red deepened when Jiang Cheng noticed his attention. “Don’t listen to this fu—idiot, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“You know you can still call me Huan-gege like before,” he said with a bright grin that wouldn’t leave his face, almost giggling at the spluttering Jiang Cheng in front of him, “and I do remember such letters. Jiang Cheng, weren’t you happy with them?”
“No!” Just as quickly as he spat that out, he hurried to amend his words. “I mean, they weren’t bad but—why are we even talking about this! It was some stupid preschool crush, it doesn’t matter!”
And well. That certainly wouldn’t do. It looked like Lan Huan had to brush up his old skills.
He was rusty, Lan Huan would be the first to say that. Not because he didn’t write anymore, of course he did, but this was the first time in many years that he’d be writing with the intention of confessing his feelings.
Technically, he wrote better than he did before. Granted the last time was when he was barely in kindergarten, so that didn’t mean much...
He shook his head and plastered a smile on when another student passed by him, hiding his trembling hand and the letter behind his back. God, he really was doing this. He was going to give Jiang Cheng another love letter, after leaving him without a word so many years ago.
If it weren’t for the fact that the staff knew he would come into the school during summer and help out with teaching, then perhaps there would be more curious gazes on him. Thankfully, he managed to reach the classroom and—
“And what are you doing here?”
He jumped. Pivoting around, he stared nervously at the teacher currently staring at him over his glasses with unfathomable eyes.
“Mr. Shen,” he started, quickly giving up when the man just raised a brow at him, “I’m giving one of your husband’s students...a letter.”
“Oh?” Both eyebrows flew up for a moment and then a mirthful chuckle left him. “Ah, I see. Hand it over, I’ll put it on the lucky person’s desk for you then. You shouldn’t be going in and out of the classrooms after all.”
He perked up and shyly handed over the letter. Thankfully he decided against decorating the envelope like he used to, with only a scripted Jiang Cheng on the front. Remembering his other gift right before Mr. Shen went into the room, he brought the (sadly) slightly crushed flowers from his bag and shoved them in his arms.
“Please put it on Jiang Cheng’s desk,” he whispered, ears feeling hot as he spoke, “but don’t tell him.”
This time, he didn’t leave him little bits of chocolate with the letter. Mostly because Jiang Cheng deserved more, but also because Lan Huan wasn’t sure where to get those exact chocolates again. So he hoped the flowers would be enough and without looking back, marched far far away before he could be caught by anyone else.
Unable to help himself, he hurried to his brother’s classroom before they had to leave on the pretext of picking him up. When Lan Huan entered the room and saw Jiang Cheng holding onto the bouquet of flowers, his lips upturned at the corner, he almost tripped over the entrance.
“A-ah,” he laughed as Jiang Cheng rushed over to him, worry in his eyes, “I’m clumsy today, it seems. You got flowers?”
“And a letter!” Wei Ying crowed, snatching the bouquet from where Jiang Cheng placed it on his desk, sniffing it loudly. “A very romantic letter from a very romantic secret admirer, I almost swooned! Come on, Lan Zhan, can’t you write me letters like that too?”
“No,” he said, though his ears turned red at the tip. Then he directed a knowing look at Lan Huan, who only smiled back. It was okay if his brother knew, he wouldn’t say anything. But he was...slightly concerned about the grin Wei Ying gave him.
“Huan-gege, it’s just some flowers,” he heard the boy mutter, head tipped down as if that was enough to hide the red crawling from his neck.
“Do you like them?” He blurted out the question before he could think. He was already groaning inwardly at himself, ready to walk out and pray a hole appeared beneath him when Jiang Cheng whispered.
“They’re kinda nice.”
And oh, Lan Huan already knew what he would be doing tonight.
The same obsession got ahold of him once more. Night after night, he wrote those sappy letters and poured all his emotions into them, often having to cut them down before the envelope burst open. This time he was able to get his own crafty things, his first purchase being a stack of puppy stickers.
Mr. Shen continued to pass the letters on for him, promising to let no one, not even his husband know. It was worth enduring the barely veiled cooing because at least he could get his gifts to Jiang Cheng without letting him know. He wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
After seeing those beautiful eyes light up with excitement, he may have gone a bit overboard with the number of items he brought next. Though his uncle gave him strange looks for a few nights after Lan Huan bumped into him with numerous puppy plushies in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, not after the squeal that escaped Jiang Cheng the first time he gifted it to him.
After that moment, of seeing the boy he loved hug the large husky plush close when he was alone and bury his face into it, laughter streaming from his lips like a song, Lan Huan decided he was going to let Jiang Cheng know. He couldn’t hide his feelings forever, wanted nothing more than to hold the boy close and lay beside him. So he resolved to tell Jiang Cheng before he left the summer school and disappeared from his grasp again.
Then out of nowhere, his father collapsed.
He didn’t know why, only knew that both he and Lan Zhan were taken to the hospital to check on him and support the man however they could. Regardless of the fact that they rarely ever saw him, they knew their duties and obediently helped their uncle as best as they could with work, unable to return to their studies for a few weeks.
It wasn’t until much later that he returned and—
Summer was over, and Jiang Cheng was gone.
No one knew where he and Wei Ying went. Apparently, their parents had moved somewhere else, further away from where they used to be. He didn’t even have time to breathe and feel the pain in his heart before he was whisked into work, managing the family company in his father’s stead and taking over so many jobs that he had no time to search.
Although he wasn’t alone in his grief this time, as Lan Zhan was even more silent than usual without his sunlight to bring him joy, Lan Huan still felt bitter that he couldn’t even get a chance to tell Jiang Cheng his feelings this time.
Perhaps Lan Huan was never meant to touch his moonlight.
***
Fate was as cruel as it was kind. Lan Huan was sure of this when he saw that same beautiful face a third time while helping one of the professors at his university.
“Lan Huan?” Jiang Cheng looked as shocked as he did, jaw dropping open, those perfect soft lips parting a bit and Lan Huan couldn’t help correcting him.
“Huan-gege.”
A beautiful crimson colouring his cheeks, just like it always did, made Jiang Cheng appear even more endearing than Lan Huan remembered.
“Huan-gege,” Jiang Cheng muttered and before Lan Huan could die from the overload of sweetness, he continued on, “I didn’t know you would be here.”
Despite the gruffer and more mature voice, Jiang Cheng’s tone was soft. Standing there, gaze downturned and cheeks glowing with embarrassment, taller and older and more beautiful the longer Lan Huan stared…
He let his lips stretch into a grin, and felt his heart beat that familiar rhythm once more.
This time, he didn’t jump straight into writing letters again.
It’s not that he didn’t want to spoil Jiang Cheng with love, just...both of his previous attempts failed and left him far apart from his beloved, Lan Huan wasn’t sure if he’d been going at this the right way. He contemplated for a moment, barely registering the look from Lan Zhan when he kept staring into space during dinner.
This time, he was determined to tell him straight away. Even if Jiang Cheng didn’t believe he was the one who gave him those letters all those times, even if he wasn’t sure, at least then he would know that Lan Huan loved him.
The next day, they met up for food. It was a wonderful lunch that he took the bill for since he wouldn’t dare make Jiang Cheng shoulder it (“I can pay for my own food!” “I invited you out, it’s only right for me to pay for you.”), but just as he was about to confess his feelings for the younger boy, Jiang Cheng glanced at him and granted him a soft smile.
The words died in his mouth and he could only helplessly return the gesture, his heart melting in his chest. He never got to say the speech he practised.
This repeated several times whenever they met up. Just as he’d finally get the courage to say the words trapped in his heart, Lan Huan would falter from a single look from those beautiful blues.
It was completely, utterly foolish, but Lan Huan has resigned himself to be a fool in love.
Days passed without any improvement. Ready to concede and go to his brother or even his Wei Wuxian for some subtle advice, an unexpected development occurred.
“This...is not what it looks like.”
Lan Huan couldn’t stop staring. That was...was that really Jiang Cheng, the secret love of his life, sneaking a letter into his bag? A letter that was obviously a love letter, if the numerous hearts on it meant anything?
No way, he faintly thought, absolutely no way.
“Fine!” He jumped at the sudden shout, eyes wide open as Jiang Cheng straightened up, dropping the letter into his bag while glaring at him with cheeks brighter than tomatoes. “Listen up, Lan Huan! I like you!”
“H-huh?” Oh god, he screamed into the void of his brain, this was actually happening. Jiang Cheng was actually-
“I’m not saying it again! I just,” he deflated, those slender shoulders hunching up and no, he was walking away. “Nevermind, just wanted to tell you. I’m so stupid, fuck.”
He ran to him. Wrapping his arms tight around Jiang Cheng before he could leave again, the words that were trapped in his heart and in his letters finally left his lips.
“I love you.”
The ocean looked at him, moonlight glittering on the tears gathering in his eyes. “What?”
He wouldn’t be a coward this time. Opening his mouth, he urged his heart to be brave. “Jiang Cheng, I love you. There are no words to describe how much I adore you, your radiant smile, the beautiful glow of your cheeks when you are embarrassed, your laughter that stops my breath every time I hear it. All those letters you got, I’m sorry I never just told you my feelings. So I’ll tell you now—I have loved you for years, and I’ll love you for years more.”
There was silence. When his heart was about to go back into hiding, he heard a soft laugh.
“Lan Huan, you are unfair. Fuck, I can’t believe you never told me,” he said weakly, tears glistening in his ocean eyes. The smile on his lips wobbled and fell into a half-hearted scowl. “How am I meant to beat that?”
“You’re not meant to,” Lan Huan whispered, joy blooming in his heart, “you just have to say you love me too, A-Cheng.”
“Fuck, I thought that was obvious already.” He laughed and Lan Huan thought there was no better song than that. “I love you, Lan Huan.”
He forgot how to speak. And so, Lan Huan laughed and tugged the boy closer for a kiss. Feeling the shy touch press against him, his heart warmed with contentment.
Finally, his words got through.