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“I can rest,” Wei Wuxian murmurs, and collapses.
Lan Zhan catches him, as he always does - he’s hovering, as endlessly usual, in Wei Wuxian’s periphery, in a way that makes Wei Wuxian glow with comfortable, steady awareness of him. He hums into the top of Wei Wuxian’s head as he cradles it; arranges Wei Wuxian’s arms and legs neatly on the ground, with the pleasant air of a man finally permitted to bring order to a mess; kneels beside him, pristine against the muddy earth, and stares down at Wei Wuxian with the slightest fond tilt to his lips, the barest loosening in his shoulders. “Rest,” he agrees. “I will keep you safe.”
“You’re so good,” Wei Wuxian says breathlessly. “We should marry.” It’s a slip of some kind to acknowledge that, he knows - some unspoken agreement that the thing between them gets left out of conversations, and navigated delicately around, without committing to anything, when they’re forced to own up to it - but right now it’s glaringly simple, and he can’t bring himself to care about whatever it is that they’re not talking about. Why would they bother? What are they missing? In his befuddled, exhausted state, he can’t seem to get the measure of the thing before it slips again out of his grasp. Regardless, Lan Zhan’s eyes widen with alarm for a panicked moment, before his expression aligns back into carefully schooled serenity. Wei Wuxian realises, suddenly distressed, that he’s upset him.
“Don’t worry,” he entreats, trying to articulate what it is that he’s desperate for Lan Zhan to understand. “I’m not - you don’t need to worry, I just want you to be happy. Are you happy?”
“I,” Lan Zhan begins, before halting mid-speech as consternation flickers on and off his face. “Yes,” he seems to settle on. “Naturally. Wei Ying -”
“No, don’t,” Wei Wuxian interrupts. “It’s fine, you don’t have to say -”
“You want to -”
“I am so, so tired,” Wei Wuxian says, just to shut him up, and blinks at the leaves shifting above the path. “Don’t make me think, Lan Zhan, I’m far too lazy.”
Lan Zhan makes one of those affronted, monosyllabic sounds that mean he’s agreeing. “Then rest,” he instructs. “We will talk when you are … functional.”
Wei Wuxian goes to sit bolt upright, but discovers with mild concern that he can’t bring himself to bother. “Did you just insult me?” he says incredulously, then notices he’s slurring his words a little. Oh, dear.
“Just sleep,” Lan Zhan replies, and there’s definitely a smile tugging at the corners of his eyes. The little shit - ! “You need it.”
“Psh,” Wei Wuxian dismisses, waving a hand. “Sleep is for the weak, I have to make the most of your smiling while it lasts!”
Lan Zhan makes a noise like choking. “‘Make the most -’?”
“I like looking at it,” Wei Wuxian says, grinning. Lan Zhan exhales slowly, as if he’s fighting to control his breath, and then coughs violently again when Wei Wuxian continues “You’re pretty when you smile.”
“Ah,” Lan Zhan says delicately.
“Extremely,” Wei Wuxian begins, and then notices his eyelids have closed at some point between one word and the next. Oh, dear. He wants to finish his thought, but his tongue is thick and clumsy in his mouth, which poses an issue - he won’t be able to make sure that Lan Zhan understands he is extremely pretty until he’s gotten some rest.
This is a problem. After all, it’s imperative that Lan Zhan be informed of his ethereal levels of beauty at every possible opportunity.
But Wei Wuxian is so tired.
Maybe it can wait until he’s had a nap, he muses, and fumbles blindly for Lan Zhan’s hand. He’s not expecting to find it. But all at once his fingers brush knuckles, and he sure hopes it’s Lan Zhan’s hand because he doesn’t remember anyone else sitting within reach (or, for that matter, within sight) and then Probably Lan Zhan is intertwining their fingers with the barest sigh, and Wei Wuxian cannot bother fighting to stay awake any longer.
He’s had a long life.
Lives.
He gets to rest a little.