Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian felt warm and floaty, warmer on one side than the other so he tried to shuffle closer, turn his body. But then the arms under his knees and shoulders tightened to keep him still so he settled with a grumble. He felt himself get set down on a cool bed and covered with an equally cool quilt, the warmth gone along with the sense of contentment. He frowned, mumbling a bit as his hands flopped randomly under the quilt trying to find something warm to cling to.
His eyes snapped open with the sound of his door being shut. Wait. What just happened? Who just carried him to bed?? Why did he need to be carried to bed???
He scrambled to his feet, curiosity fully waking him up to realize he felt just a little woozy. The hell? Why did he feel… drunk? He hadn't snuck any alcohol tonight, or yesterday for that matter. Oh man, was this some prank being set up by Nie Huaishang and Jiang Cheng? It had to be. He knew the horribly healthy food tasted weirder than usual, good thing he didn't eat much in consideration of his secret snack stash.
A grin broke out on his face as he peeked out his door. They're so gonna get their prank ruined as payback.
He heard quiet footsteps leading away from him around the corner of the hall, towards the front doors of the cabin. Being the versatile and sneaky troublemaker he was, he knew exactly which window wouldn't creek so he could circle the side of the cabin to better stalk whoever walked out that front door.
And lo and behold! ...It was Lan Wangji?
Curiosity piqued and a little confused, Wei Wuxian decided against running up to greet (antagonize) the beautiful Lan as he normally would. For the next twenty minutes, he ducked and weaved and muted his steps to follow after Lan Wangji, following him deeper and deeper into the woods. The big path became a smaller path became a near indistinguishable animal trail that became increasingly hard to keep quiet on. Wei Wuxian ended up lagging further and further behind to not be discovered. Some part of him wondered if this was some serial killer situation, but then he almost burst out laughing trying to imagine the pristine Lan Wangji even touching a messy corpse.
Lan Wangji disappeared around a bend in the trail and by the time Wei Wuxian turned that same bend, Lan Wangji was already in the midst of a large crowd of onlookers in dark hoodies and long coats, hushed conversation everywhere.
What the fuck? Strike serial killer, was this a goddamn cult gathering??
A voice, young and loud, easily recognizable to Wei Wuxian as Lan Jingyi's spoke out, "They're all down, then?"
The hushed conversations came to a standstill at the question and the figures all turned as one to the newly arrived Lan Wangji.
Creepy.
"All of them are sleeping," Lan Wangji responded, monotone as ever.
Suddenly a wave of cheers broke out, strings of fairy lights flashed on all over to reveal a huge clearing, people threw off their dark hoodies and coats to reveal ridiculous and loud outfits, dozens and dozens of snapping glowsticks echoed, AND LAN WANGJI MADE WAY TOWARDS A PODIUM WHERE A DEEJAY RIG WAS SET UP.
Wei Wuxian was frozen, internally screaming. Did the Lan camp fucking drug the rest of them so they could have a secret rave?!??!!!
Omfg, where was his phone. He needed photo and video evidence that this wasn't some crazy acid trip into an alternate universe. He blindly patted himself down as his eyes stayed glued on Lan Wangji's form, one hand poised over the soundboard and the other over a keyboard. For a moment, Wei Wuxian felt like the world held its breath with him. Then, Lan Wangji hit the play button.
The notes of electronic dance music thrummed from the speakers. For a few beats, Lan Wangji let the music play. Then his left hand turned down the speed on the soundboard and his right hand slammed down on the keyboard.
LAN ZHAN WAS PLAYING SWEDISH HOUSE MAFIA!
LAN ZHAN WAS PLAYING SHM!!!?
WHERE WAS HIS FUCKING PHONE?!?
WHY DOES LAN ZHAN EVEN KNOW HOW TO REMIX AND PLAY THE KEYBOARD?!!! WHY DOES HE SOUND SO AMAZING?
PLEASE!
PHONE!!
GET OUT OF THE GOD DAMNED POCKET!!!
Half-hysterical in his shock, it took an absurd number of fumbles to finally yank his phone out of his pocket. Thank god Lan Wangji didn't put him in pajamas or considered his comfort in still having keys, wallet and phone in his pockets when he put him into his bed. He had never been so thankful for a contact hating friend in his life.
Then, just when he managed to turn the camera setting to record, uncertain if he even managed to press the record button, his shaking hands dropped it. Wei Wuxian was dying. Why was the world out to get him.
Before he could properly look for his phone in the foliage, someone grabbed him by the shoulder. The last thing Wei Wuxian remembered was his heart jumping out of his chest as he turned around just to get a full face spray of some random gas and a vaguely familiar voice saying, "Sorry, you're not supposed to be here."
-_-_-_-_-
Wei Wuxian blinked slowly at the fake wooden ceiling, feeling like he had the mother of all hangovers. For a long moment Wei Wuxian simply dwelled on the sheer misery of the thudding headache. Then he remembered.
He shot out of bed like a rocket, slamming open his door to stumble his way into the neighboring room.
"Jiang Cheng! Jiang Cheng!!" He tore open Jiang Cheng's window curtains, feeling his own eyes water at the assault of light on his delicate senses. But it was nothing in the face of his crisis. He jumped directly on the lump on the bed.
Jiang Cheng flailed, yelling, "Mmph-the fuck!"
Wei Wuxian grabbed Jiang Cheng's shoulders and shook him, hard, screaming in his face, "Jiang Cheng! The entire Lan Band is a filthy lie! I've finally revealed them for what they are!!!"
Jiang Cheng did the only thing that made sense to his half dazed, half terrified mind at whatever the fuck ungodly hour it was. He punched Wei Wuxian in the face.