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Once, before Lan Wangji married, the weekly dinners with his brother were something he looked forward to with something approaching delight. A break in the routine, a chance to feel a little less alone, a little more color breathed into his world by the gentle smiles of someone who genuinely cared for him. The company of his elder brother was something Lan Wangji had always treasured, and never allowed himself to take for granted.
After marriage, however, the weekly dinners had become something to dread. He no longer had a routine to speak of, though he attempted to keep an approximate one in place. His world was nothing but vibrant colors and laughter, and he was constantly filled with love, both received and given. None of these things made him take his brother for granted, or love him any less, or somehow lose his appreciation for all his brother had done for him, but he had discovered that his brother did not mix as well as he’d hoped with his married life.
Still, the weekly dinners persisted because it would be a disservice to the love of his brother not to continue to hold them, and because he was fairly certain that Wei Wuxian would not forgive him easily if he cancelled them. Six o’clock Saturday evening found him in the kitchen, adjusting the seasoning in the smaller portion of the soup he’d set aside into another pot with many, many red things, carefully using the red-handled spoon only in that pot so that the red would not touch the larger portion of broth in another pot, when the doorbell rang. Wei Wuxian, who had been muttering to himself and frowning at the screen of his laptop while seated on the couch, somehow still wearing a smile under the scrunching of his brow, leapt up without prompting to answer the door.
“Da-ge!” he cried in delight, stepping back to allow the elder Lan into their home. “I hope you brought me something good! I have some gems for you tonight, and they’re going to cost you.” Lan Wangji could almost hear the wink that his husband offered to his brother in his voice, as well as in the soft laughter with which Lan Xichen responded.
“I have, indeed,” Lan Xichen replied as he removed his shoes. “Wangji, good to see you.” Lan Wangji turned from the stove and nodded his welcome to his brother, noting that he had a messenger bag strapped across his chest and quickly turning away.
“Dinner is nearly ready,” was all he said, hoping that his ears were not as red as they felt. He listened to the conversation happening in the living room nearby, but it seemed that they would keep to their habit of remaining polite and civil until after dinner, merely chatting about the week and what they had been up to. Well, it was most Wei Wuxian providing a continuous string of chatter that Lan Xichen was occasionally allowed to respond to and add his own stories in brief quiet luls. The sound of the happiness in Wei Wuxian’s voice and the soft amusement in Lan Xichen’s brought a tender smile to Lan Wangji’s face, visible more in his eyes than his lips as he put the final touches on their meal.
When Lan Wangji began to dish up the food, his brother and husband joined him almost immediately as though they had sensed that the food was ready. Wei Wuxian set the table while Lan Xichen carried the filled bowls and plates and put them in their proper places before the three of them settled in to eat. Two places, set across from each other, held a mild soup with tofu and spring greens, matching plates of lightly seasoned steamed vegetables beside it and accompanied by a bowl of white rice with two mildly sauced chicken wings atop. The other place, set between the two, was nothing but red. A red sheen drifted on the soup, bits of fiery red intermixed with the greens, and twice the number of chicken wings dripped crimson to all but saturate the rice beneath. The burning smell of that place setting overwhelmed the mildly bittersweet scent of the other two almost completely, but no one seemed to mind.
For the first few minutes of the meal, all was silent but for the soft sounds of chopsticks scraping plates and spoons clinking gently on bowls, the Lan brothers having been brought up to silent meals where speaking was forbidden. The other, who had learned no such thing, was momentarily too occupied by the filling of his dreadfully empty stomach to cause any trouble. Halfway through the meal, however, he was full enough to resume his constant noisemaking. Lan Wangji did not miss the amused and slightly smug smile that Lan Xichen sent him when he caught the relaxing in Lan Wangji’s shoulders and the way that his face softened as the sound of Wei Wuxian’s voice once more filled the space. Lan Wangji did not dignify this with so much as a glance and instead paid careful attention to the rambling Wei Wuxian was doing about the colony of rabbits that was currently nosing at their toes and hoping for handouts they wouldn't get and what antics they had been up to lately.
When they finished eating and the dishes had been washed, dried, and put away, the three of them settled in the living room once again, and Lan Wangji was reminded of the existence of his brother’s messenger bag sitting beside Wei Wuxian’s laptop that sat with the screen slightly propped open and his mood immediately shifted. Pleading eyes turned to his brother, for he knew exactly how futile it would be to ask it of his husband.
“Brother. Please, not tonight,” he murmured, but the amusement in his brother’s eyes only grew as his lips stretched up in a kind smile. His mouth opened to reply, but he was interrupted before he could so much as take a breath.
“Da-ge!” Wei Wuxian cried, pouting from where he was already seated on the couch, legs crossed under him as he clutched at the laptop on his knees. “You’re not really going to miss out on what I have for you, are you? I promise you’ll regret it if you do! I just offloaded my phone tonight, and they’re amazing!”
With one last smile, not quite sincere enough to be a true apology, Lan Xichen turned away from his brother to join Wei Wuxian on the couch, sitting much more properly than the other man. “Of course I do not intend to miss out,” he replied, pulling his bag close. From within, he pulled two leather-bound books and his own laptop, which he started up while Wei Wuxian stared in wide-eyed delight at the books.
“You brought me physical copies?” he asked in a hushed tone of awe, as though a loud noise might frighten away the reality of those books. With a chuckle, Lan Xichen nodded while typing his password into his computer.
“I did some digging in Uncle’s basement to find them,” he replied, a little too pleased with himself. “I have, of course, made copies both physical and digital. These, however, are the originals.” His smile widened at the way Wei Wuxian’s eyes shone.
“Is it my birthday?” Wei Wuxian wondered as he gazed greedily at the leather covers.
“It is March,” Lan Wangji cut in, a little too abruptly to be polite, before curtly turning to settle himself at his guqin and attempt to studiously ignore what was happening in his own damn house, comforted by the bunnies that climbed into his lap while more flopped down beside him.
Despite his discomfort, Wei Wuxian’s ringing laughter still drew his gaze to the beauty of the man, to the long line of his throat as he tipped his head back, to the familiarly-shaped bruises that peeked out of the collar of his worn t-shirt with the name of a band he’d never heard of except in the constant ramblings of his beloved husband. When the sound ended, he allowed himself a moment to drink in the crinkled crescents of his husband’s eyes and the way red lips stretched wide into a brilliant grin before turning back to his instrument.
“I know, Lan Zhan! But it certainly feels like it is!” he replied, unbothered by Lan Wangji’s cold demeanor. He turned back to Lan Xichen and clapped his hands together before rubbing them, not unlike a cartoon villain. “Now, then! To business! I’ve got some absolute gold here, but we’re going to work up to that. First! Let’s see…” A moment of scrolling through the laptop with narrowed eyes followed while Lan Wangji plucked the strings of his guqin to make sure it was properly in tune. “Ah! Lan Zhan with dawn coloring his face pink as though he’s blushing, sound asleep and turned towards the camera peacefully.” He grinned proudly at Lan Xichen. “You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get this shot. He always wakes up as soon as I move at all! I had to really wear him out the night before to manage it, and there was always the danger that I’d wear myself out too much to wake up first. But finally I did it! What’s the offer?”
Lan Xichen hummed to himself and scrolled through his own laptop, not even glancing at the books despite Wei Wuxian’s pout. “Is there any evidence of how you’d worn him out to accomplish this?” Lan Xichen asked contemplatively. “You know that’ll drive the price down. I really don’t need to see that side of my own brother.” Lan Wangji resisted the urge to throw something at the two of them.
“Nope! I was careful! The sheets are pulled up and I angled the camera so you can’t even see the huge hickey, let alone the -”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji cut in sharply, ears flushing scarlet. Wei Wuxian laughed again, clutching at his stomach.
“Well, he looks perfectly innocent!” Wei Wuxian continued a few minutes later, wiping at his eyes.
Lan Xichen smiled. “Sounds lovely. In exchange, I have fourteen-year-old a-Zhan sitting on a hill backlit by the sunset. Does that sound fair?”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes lit up and Lan Xichen knew he was sold despite the contemplative hum he gave. “What’s his expression?”
“Serenity.” Lan Xichen replied, and Wei Wuxian gave up the act.
“Sold,” he agreed with a laugh, and the two spent a few moments clicking at their computers and then examining the exchanged goods. When both were satisfied, they moved on to the next, and it was Lan Xichen’s turn to sell a photo of Lan Wangji to Wei Wuxian.
This continued for quite a while, and when Lan Xichen finally turned to the photo albums the prices skyrocketed to multiple photos from Wei Wuxian for just one from Lan Xichen, but it was obvious to Lan Wangji and likely to Lan Xichen as well that Wei Wuxian would have handed over his entire laptop just for a peek at one of the books.
“Alright,” Wei Wuxian finally said, nearly two hours later. “Last one, the one I’ve been working up to this whole time, the granddaddy of my collection, the one I’m definitely getting professionally blown up to frame on a wall in this house.” Lan Xichen sat forward excitedly, and even Lan Wangji stopped playing to look curiously at his husband. “One of the rabbits got sick this week, like I mentioned. He’s getting better, so I don’t feel at all bad about this, but what I didn’t mention was that I got a picture of Lan Zhan kneeling in the living room with the sick bun cradled gently in his arms, his own sweater wrapped around it and every single other bunny crowded around him lovingly and the sun shining down on him like he’s the god of rabbits. I swear to you that I am not exaggerating to drive up the price, this is the best picture I have ever taken of your darling brother and I’ve already started looking for a fancy professional frame to put it in. This is the one, the best picture I will ever take in my entire life.” He sat back, still swinging one leg off the side of the couch and the other tucked beneath him, leaning his head back on his laced fingers while a rabbit nosed the edge of his laptop and nearly shoved it off his leg. “What’s the offer?”
Lan Xichen stared at Wei Wuxian with wide eyes for a long moment before flipping through the leather-bound photo albums determinedly, frowning in concentration while Wei Wuxian grinned in delight. It took several minutes of flipping, during which Lan Xichen did not even bother to glance at his computer as though he knew nothing he had in digital format would come near the price of that one photo.
“Ah. Here. Newborn a-Zhan cradled in our mother’s arms gazing at the camera,” Lan Xichen finally said, making Lan Wangji blink. There was a photo of that?
But despite this precious offer, Wei Wuxian shook his head. “I’m offering you the image of your brother deitized, and you offer me an unrecognizable potato in trade? Try harder.” Despite this entirely unreasonable request, Lan Xichen set the offered photo on his knee face down and kept searching.
“Five-year-old a-Zhan with a cold, glaring at the camera,” Lan Xichen finally came up with, looking at Wei Wuxian for approval.
Wei Wuxian tapped his lips and seemed to contemplate this. “Is he in bed?” he finally asked, to which Lan Xichen emphatically nodded. Wei Wuxian grinned. “Getting closer.”
Lan Xichen frowned, but dutifully kept looking while Lan Wangji gazed in curiosity at his husband. This one digital photo was worth more to him than two original physical copies of childhood photos of him that he hadn’t realized even existed?
“Ah!” Lan Xichen finally cried triumphantly. “A candid shot our mother took of the first time a-Zhan had held a rabbit. We were at a petting zoo, and he was six. It was shortly before her death and we were treasuring every moment with her. He’s cradling it in his arms and he looks utterly blown away by it, unaware of the camera at all.”
Wei Wuxian looked like all the air had been sucked from the room quite suddenly, and for several long moments there was only silence. “Sold,” he finally said, voice uncharacteristically soft. A few clicks later, the three photographs were handed over, and both men gazed with misty eyes at their spoils while Lan Wangji watched in bemusement.
Several long minutes later Wei Wuxian managed to collect himself, clear his throat, and offer his hand in mock seriousness. “Well, Lan Xichen, it was a pleasure doing business with you,” he said, nose in the air in a mockery of a salaryman.
Lan Xichen didn’t bother to hide his grin as he shook the offered hand. “Indeed it was,” he agreed. “I look forward to our next meeting.”
With a light sigh, Lan Wangji stood from his instrument to walk his brother to the door while Wei Wuxian organized his spoils. Lan Xichen still looked a little misty-eyed as he strapped his bag across his chest. “Brother, why do you indulge him like this?” Lan Wangji asked, though he knew.
Sure enough, Lan Xichen turned a soft smile on his younger brother. “You’re the only brother I’ll ever have, Wangji,” he said, and his voice was soft and just a little rough. “And you’re all grown up, married now. I’m so glad you let me be a part of your life like this, but part of me still sees you as my baby brother, all serious and upright, trying so hard to be a proper Lan. It’s so good to see you relax, to see you happy like this. These photos I exchange with your husband… Not only do they let me have a glimpse at how wonderful your life is now, but they remind me how very loved you are. You aren’t my baby brother anymore, and you’re surrounded by so much adoration.”
“I’ll always be your brother,” Lan Wangji murmured before he could help himself, and Lan Xichen gently drew him into a careful hug, which tightened when Lan Wangji returned it lightly.
“You will be,” he whispered into his little brother’s shoulder. When he pulled back, he pressed a photo into his hands. When Lan Wangji looked down, he suddenly found himself paralyzed to the spot. It was a family portrait, both their parents and the two of them, looking so very young. They were all smiling, even Lan Wangji had a softness to his face that spoke of contentment. A reminder of where they’d come from. “I found this with the others. It’s for you. I’d never have sold it to Wei Wuxian, I promise. It’s just for you.”
“Thank you, brother,” Lan Wangji choked out.
When Lan Xichen left with a final smile, Lan Wangji returned to the living room and let Wei Wuxian coo over him as he showed him all the photos that had been bought and sold in that night’s auction, and it wasn't until Wei Wuxian was sprawled across his lap and kicking his feet in joy that he realized he'd never asked his brother why the two of them couldn't just exchange pictures without the pretense of selling them to each other. Watching his husband squeal in joy and ride the high of his elation, he supposed he had his answer anyway.