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If someone had ever asked Song Lan in the past for his thoughts on romance he would have told them that he has never had, and never will have, any interest in it.
That was before he met Xiao Xingchen.
If someone were to ask Song Lan now for his thoughts on romance, he would find himself at a loss for words, unwilling to admit his interest in it yet unknowing how to deflect the question.
Especially when the person who asked was Xiao Xingchen.
For the first time since their meeting, Song Lan resented Xiao Xingchen’s curiosity, just a bit. Their travels had taken them into a village where a couple was getting married, all the villagers were decked out in red auspicious robes and they set off fireworks in celebration as the bride was welcomed by her new husband’s family.
In such a small village, a marriage was an event that everyone attended and both Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen had been invited along to the feast. They did their best to decline but the joyous villagers had swept them into the crowd and offered wine and food until both men found it difficult to refuse the hospitality. Instead, they stayed off to the side, watching the proceedings quietly so as not to cause any disturbance.
It was sometime between the newly wed couple paying their respects to the Heaven and Earth when Xiao Xingchen turned to Song Lan and asked the dreaded question.
“Zichen, have you ever thought about marriage? Or love? Have you ever been in love?”
Song Lan almost dropped the cup of wine he had been holding, a harsh grip suddenly squeezing his throat until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Xiao Xingchen had no idea the loaded question he just asked and Song Lan was loath to let him know.
“L-love? Me?” The elder man managed to choke out, keeping his eyes firmly away from his companion.
“Yes. My Shifu, Baoshan Sanren often reminisced about my shijie*, Cangse Sanren. She fell in love and got married after leaving the mountain. Is love something that all humans feel?” Xiao Xingchen wondered.
Song Lan took a few breaths to steady himself before answering.
“Love is...complicated. Not everyone loves the same.”
Xiao Xingchen turned in bafflement to look at his friend.
“No? Then how do people know if they’re in love?”
The older man really didn’t have a good answer, he honestly just did not know. He thought back to some of the whisperings he had heard back at Baixue Temple. The servants who would gossip in the corridors about the affairs of town.
“I’ve heard that when you’re in love, you always want to be with the other person. You wish them to be happy, healthy, safe, and you’re willing to risk anything in the world for them so that they’re not hurt.”
The younger man thought the words over, but ended up looking even more confused.
“Oh...but how is that different than friendship? I wish all those things for Zichen...b-but I'm not in love with Zichen...am I?” Xiao Xingchen queried with a slight frown.
Song Lan glanced to his companion with a raised eyebrow, "No, I'm pretty sure you're not in love with me. I suppose...love is similar to friendship...just...deeper."
Sighing with a small shake of his head, Xiao Xingchen slumped in his seat, "I wish Shifu had taught us more about people in the mortal world...all Xingchen did was train to be a cultivator. It feels so...inadequate now."
The older man sipped his wine, watching the other guests come and go, "Cultivation is simple compared to the complexities of humans. Trying to make sense of humans and their bonds to one another could drive one to insanity."
Excited chattering from the other guests at the wedding interrupted their conversation as the newly wed couple was sent to their dongfang** to consummate the marriage. People shouted words of luck then cheered as the young man picked up his new bride and carried her away in his arms.
Most of the guests crowded towards the parents of the couple, offering their congratulations and Song Lan felt Xiao Xingchen lean against him, a soft smile on his face as he took in the proceedings.
“This is wonderful. A lovely wedding on a beautiful day. I hope they live a long and happy life together, with lots of young ones running around,” he said as he nursed his own cup of wine.
Song Lan felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed a pink flush over Xiao Xingchen’s cheeks. It must have been the wine, they rarely drank and Xiao Xingchen didn’t have a very high tolerance for alcohol. The younger man’s eyes were slightly hooded as he used Song Lan to keep him steady on his feet.
“Xingchen,” the older man said, “How much did you drink?”
“Hm?” Xiao Xingchen replied, not really paying attention, “Oh...a bit. This is my second...third...fifth cup? Or maybe sixth? I can’t recall. The nice people kept giving me more.”
Song Lan kicked himself for not paying more attention as he hurriedly took Xiao Xingchen’s wine cup and set it down on a table along with his own. He needed to get his friend somewhere quiet to sleep off the alcohol before the other man started rambling, as he was prone to do when under the influence.
“Come on, we should go,” he said firmly, ignoring Xiao Xingchen’s pouty refusal, “You’re drunk, Xingchen, you need to get some rest.”
He gripped Xiao Xingchen’s waist, swallowing down his discomfort at being so close, and guided the younger man to a quieter section of the courtyard where less people milled about. They stumbled a little as the alcohol really started to take effect, and Xiao Xingchen laughed when they almost crashed into a tree.
“Xiao Xingchen, walk normally. Or I’m going to drop you,” Song Lan threatened in exasperation.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Xiao Xingchen replied confidently, “You would never drop me, Zichen. You’re always there to catch me when I fall.”
Song Lan bit his lip and reminded himself that Xiao Xingchen was drunk, that he didn’t know what he was saying.
“I can’t catch you if you’re wobbling all over the place. Look, there’s a bench over there, let’s go sit down.”
The two companions made their way slowly over and Xiao Xingchen slumped down with a heavy thunk, entirely unlike his usual graceful self. As Song Lan straightened and took a step back, the younger cultivator reached out to grab onto the older man’s sleeve.
“Don’t go, Zichen. Don’t leave me here,” he pleaded, looking up with hazy eyes.
Song Lan felt at a loss. This was a situation he had never before found himself in. Fighting spirits and corpses and evil, he could do that. Fuxue was a constant weight on his back that cut through the nonsense of the human world. The line between right and wrong, good and evil, was clear to Song Lan and he never hesitated. But this, feelings, emotions, the thin line between friendship and love that blurred far too easily, this was something unfamiliar to Song Lan and he didn’t know what to do.
Was he in love with Xiao Xingchen? Should he be? Should he confess? Should he keep quiet? Was friendship enough? Perhaps it would have to be? Questions that no amount of training at Baixue Temple could have prepared him for hit Song Lan all at once, all of it centering on the man in front of him.
“X-xiao Xingchen…,” the older man whispered, tugging halfheartedly on his sleeve, “Let go.”
The younger man shook his head and gripped tighter, “No. You’ll leave if I let go and then I’ll be all alone again.”
Song Lan swallowed at the sad tone in Xingchen’s voice, noting the other man’s eyes started to redden around the rim.
“Xiao Xingchen, stop that. I’m not leaving, so don’t start crying,” he sighed, “I’m just going to find you some water.”
The other man still refused to let go, pulling on Song Lan’s sleeve and clearly wanting his friend to sit down beside himself.
“I don’t want water. I want you. Here. Stay with me. I like having you with me, Zichen,” Xiao Xingchen mumbled.
Song Lan’s face flushed and he was really glad there was no one else around to hear all of this. If Xiao Xingchen knew what he was saying he would likely faint from embarrassment. Trying to placate his friend, the elder cultivator sat down on the bench.
“There, that wasn’t so hard. Zichen, you’re always so serious. Just one look at you and people get out of your way,” the younger man complained.
He let go of Song Lan’s sleeve but instead grabbed onto the older man’s hand, using both of his to clasp it tightly. Song Lan gritted his teeth against the instinct to yank his hand back, not wanting to upset Xiao Xingchen. Normally he allowed no one to touch him, and if he couldn’t avoid it he would use his sleeve as a barrier between him and the other person. This skin-on-skin contact was incredibly uncomfortable for him but he kept reminding himself that this was just Xiao Xingchen, and surely he could make an exception.
His tense posture, however, didn’t go unnoticed. The other cultivator suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing and scuttled back a few inches on the bench, leaving some space between their two bodies.
“Oh! I’m sorry, Zichen. I forgot. No touching. I won’t touch, I apologize,” he said, trying to look apologetic but instead looking sleepy and sad.
Song Lan really had no defenses when his friend was like this. He took a deep breath then reached out and clasped one of Xiao Xingchen’s hands in his own.
“It’s...fine. Just this once.”
The smile that lit up Xiao Xingchen’s face made Song Lan’s breath stutter. He looked like the older man had just promised him the world and Song Lan decided the discomfort he felt was worth it in the end.
“Zichen...Zichen you’re my friend, right? You’ll always be my friend?” Xiao Xingchen asked earnestly, squeezing Song Lan’s hand.
“Yes, of course.”
The younger man hummed happily and was quiet for a few minutes, eyes focused on his own lap. Suddenly, he turned back to Song Lan.
“Just my friend, then? Only friends?”
The question made Song Lan pause as he sensed more behind those words. What was Xiao Xingchen implying?
“I...I don’t understand,” the older cultivator said carefully, choosing his words with caution, “What would you like us to be?”
Xiao Xingchen pouted and shrugged, lifting his face to look up at the blue sky. He fell silent again, although Song Lan’s question hung in the air between them.
“I guess…,” when Xiao Xingchen spoke again his voice was so soft that Song Lan had to lean in to hear, “I guess...I was hoping...just for a bit...I thought maybe…”
The younger man was having trouble finishing his sentences as he kept cutting himself off. His face had become fully red, and his hand in Song Lan’s was gripping so tightly that it almost hurt.
The older man gave him a gentle tug, catching his attention, “Xingchen, what did you hope for?”
Timid eyes glanced at Song Lan as Xiao Xingchen moved closer. He leaned in until their bodies were almost touching and the older man held himself stubbornly still. This close, Song Lan could see each strand of Xiao Xingchen’s long, elegant eyelash, he could feel the other’s warm breath against his face. He could also tell that the other man was trembling and suddenly realized that the younger man was baring a very vulnerable side of himself.
“X-xing...chen..?” Song Lan whispered, feeling like he was trapped in a dream.
“Zichen...I want to...c-can I…,” Xiao Xingchen paused, “Please, e-even just once…”
Song Lan couldn’t stop himself. The pleading in Xingchen’s voice, the softness, he had no defense against this and he found that he didn’t really want to. Closing his eyes, the older cultivator tilted his head forward and felt soft lips touch his own, immediately parting in a surprised gasp. Song Lan didn’t push for more, he kept the kiss gentle and sweet, letting Xiao Xingchen take things at his own pace. The younger man cautiously kissed back, a soft whine coming from his throat as he experienced his first kiss.
Song Lan felt Xiao Xingchen’s trembling increase and he slowly pulled back in concern. He took in the younger man’s reddened face, heavy breathing, and unfocused gaze. A most beautiful sight in his opinion. But clearly Xiao Xingchen was losing his battle against the alcohol running through his blood and Song Lan didn’t want the other man to end up falling asleep out here.
“Xingchen? How do you feel?” The older man asked gently.
“I feel...warm. Hot...like my heart’s going to race out of my chest,” Xingchen replied, bringing up one hand to clutch at his chest, “Is...is this what kissing always feels like?”
Song Lan chuckled, “I think some of that may be the wine.”
Xiao Xingchen sighed and dropped his head forward, resting his forehead against Song Lan’s shoulder.
“Zichen...this is ok, right? You don’t mind? You won’t think less of me, will you?”
The older man indulged himself and ran his fingers through his companion’s long, silky hair.
“Never. Never Xingchen, you’ll always be the most beautiful, righteous, bright moon and gentle breeze Xiao Xingchen to me.”
The younger man laughed softly and lifted his head, gaze meeting Song Lan’s.
“Maybe...once the alcohol wears off, we can kiss some more?” He asked shyly.
Song Lan felt his heart leap at even the idea of getting to kiss Xiao Xingchen again but he carefully controlled his expression, not wanting to scare the other man.
“Of course, whatever you want.”
The sound of the wedding from earlier was dying down as the celebrations began to finish. People started heading back home and Song Lan wrapped an arm around Xiao Xingchen’s waist, helping him to stand up.
“Come on, let’s go find a place to stay at for the night.”
The younger man nodded in agreement, clinging to Song Lan to keep himself on his feet.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drink so much. The wine just tasted really good,” he apologized, looking embarrassed.
“Well, just this once, besides, it was a wedding. It would’ve been rude not to drink,” Song Lan comforted.
“Maybe someday...we’ll get to drink wine at our own wedding,” Xiao Xingchen teased, making Song Lan stumble.
“Xiao Xingchen, slow down. We’ve barely kissed and you’re already thinking of weddings,” the older man grumbled as he regained his footing.
The younger man laughed, “It’s important to have goals in life. My Master always said we must discipline ourselves and strive for our own goals on the path of destiny.”
Song Lan took the chance that no one was looking and rolled his eyes, “Your Master surely wasn’t talking about this, Xiao Xingchen. She’d be appalled at your current state.”
Xiao Xingchen hm’ed nonchalantly, “But you ARE on my path of destiny now, Song Zichen. And I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”
Song Lan didn’t reply, but he pressed a soft kiss to the dark, ebony locks of his drunken companion.
‘No’, he thought, ‘Don’t let me go, Xiao Xingchen. Don’t ever let me go.’
---END---
*shijie = elder disciple sister
**dongfang = the bedroom where a newly wed couple spends their first night together