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Gusu Lan’s nights were more than a little well-known. The temperature would drop as the sun dipped behind the mountain, leaving a faint dusting of snow and frost to settle along the mountain top. The bunnies would huddle for warmth and the insects and birds would quiet, leaving the mountain in an enchanting silence. It truly looked like a scene out of a fairytale.
On these nights, Wei Wuxian could never sleep.
Inside the Jingshi, Wei Wuxian lay beside Lan Wangji, his head pillowed on the other’s chest with his hair spread out behind him. Although his eyes were closed, his mind was running a million miles a minute, thinking of all the other nights he had spent in Gusu Lan when he was still just a disciple. How, when the mountain was silent just like it was now, him and Jiang Cheng would grumble back and forth about how much they missed Lotus Pier and the frogs and the bugs and the liveliness of it all. How they’d eventually fall asleep to the sound of the other’s breathing. How he’d had a brother, a piece of home, beside him. How he doesn’t now.
These nights were always the hardest - Lan Wangji would have been long gone in the midst of his dreams before him. When he finally grew tired of the pacing and the painting, he’d crawl into their shared bed, winding his arms around his husband’s torso. A seemingly tranquil night as this would have been magical to another’s eyes, but to Wei Wuxian, it was bone-chilling. The lack of animals and life, the deathly quiet of the twilight, it all reminded him a little too much of the Burial Mounds. Memories flashed past his now wide-open eyes, too fast, too many.
No.
It was not uncommon that he would get stuck in his memories. He would often stay like that the entire night, trying, in vain, to sleep as he reminisced about the past, heart heavy more often than not.
Stop.
Tonight, he couldn’t stop thinking about his shijie. God, how he missed her. He missed the hot, sticky summer days in Lotus Pier, when him and Jiang Cheng would get into all sorts of trouble and return home to her smiling face as she held out a plate of watermelon, the sharp red of the fruit a stark contrast to her fair skin. He missed the gentle love she always gave him, patting his head and making him food, her presence a quiet reassurance that everything would be alright. It hadn’t been.
Please.
She was gone, and he would never see her again. He desperately wished he’d pulled fewer pranks and instead had spent time sitting cross-legged in front of his shijie, telling her jokes as she tended to his hair. He felt a hot lump rising in his throat. Tears beginning to burn behind his eyes, a heavy and stifling feeling rising in his chest. She was gone, and it was all his fault. His mistakes killed her. He killed her.
Shijie.
He buried his face into Lan Wangji’s torso, letting out a wet, humorless laugh as he began to shake. Almost unconsciously, he tightened his arms, pulling Lan Wangji as close as he could.
“Mn.” A knowing voice sounded from above him, the hum reverberating through Wei Wuxian’s own body. A hand moves up to run its long fingers through his hair as another gently lays as a grounding weight between his shoulder blades.
Wei Wuxian hesitates before shaking his head in response, the sobs that had been building deep within him beginning to wrack through his body as he cries into Lan Wangji’s chest, no doubt staining his shirt with tears. Lan Wangji stayed silent, holding him. After a beat of consideration, he rubs his husband’s back and starts humming.
Different memories began flashing now, a giant tortoise, a pile of corpses, dozens of armed men. Above all, was one lonely man in white and a pair of golden eyes that never left his. The reminder of Lan Wangji’s unyielding affection towards him over their lives only makes him cry harder, harsh sobs ripping themselves out of his throat paired with gasping breaths.
After more than a few moments, the anchoring presence of Lan Wanji pulls him out of his past. It’s only after he begins to calm down that Lan Wangji questions him, pressing a lingering kiss against his forehead. “Wei Ying, has the night been bad?” Lan Wangji phrases it as if the sun itself has done him wrong merely by setting.
“Lan Zhan,” he begins, voice raw as he levels his head and looks up at him. The grim concern is written clearly on his face. “I woke you. I’m sorry, I’ll go out-”
“Wei Ying does not have to hide. Sleep is not more important than your tears,” Lan Wangji states firmly, resting a hand on the other’s cheeks as he gently wipes away his tears, “The past is over. You are here now. I am here with you.”
Wei Wuxian turns his face into his hand, breathing in the trademark scent of sandalwood and ink, thankful that Lan Wangji isn’t pushing him. It’s not that he doesn't want to talk about it, but he doesn’t think he can, not without getting lost in his own mind again. He presses a reverent kiss against Lan Wangji’s palm, pushing up onto his elbow so they are face to face, foreheads two finger-widths away. Lan Wangji’s skin glows under the pale moonlight, the soft breeze coming through the windows Wei Wuxian insists on keeping open and playing at the baby hair at the edge of his temples. In a word, Lan Wangji looks ethereal.
“You’re here,” he agrees in a whisper, nuzzling his nose against Lan Wangji’s, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. He moves to lay on top of Lan Wangji, their hearts pressed against one another and legs intertwined. They stay like that for a long moment as they gaze into each other’s eyes, Lan Wangji’s calm waters meeting Wei Wuxian’s torrentuous typhoon until they balance each other out.
Wei Wuxian cups his face, pulling him into a deep kiss before he sighs against his lips and his eyelids flutter closed. He goes on to press soft lips against his nose, his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids, reveling in his Lan Zhan’s reddening ears before returning to give him a final chaste kiss, smiling weakly against his mouth.
Lan Wangji frowns for a moment as he takes in Wei Wuxian’s appearance. His glance runs over eyes that have deep bags and his uneven complexion, not to mention his hair which had been ruffled from the gentle pats. “My love,” he starts, “have you not slept?”.
At this, Wei Wuxian snaps his eyes open, a faint dusting of red rising on his cheeks. He gapes his mouth open like a fish before scrambling up to a sitting position and pokes Lan Wangji on the cheek, baffled. “What did you say?”
Lan Wangji’s own cheeks tint. “Have you not slept?” He tries.
“Lan Zhaan,” Wei Wuxian whines, squishing Lan Wangji’s cheeks together with both hands now as he pouts at him, “the other thing.”
Oh. Well then, if Wei Wuxian wants, Wei Wuxian gets. “My love?” he questions, looking at him with a straight face. Wei Wuxian lets out a whine and hits his fist against Lan Wangji’s chest.
“Lan Zhan, you have to warn me before you say something like that!” he commands, burrowing his flaming face into the crook of Lan Wangji’s neck. His husband only hums in response, kissing his forehead once again.
“Warning,” Lan Wangji’s breath flutters on his neck, “I love you.”
Wei Wuxian lets out a small whine in protest. He opens his mouth and grazes his bottom row of teeth against Lan Wangji’s throat as a consequence before hugging him tightly once again.
Wei Wuxian finds his voice. “I love you too,” he whispers, before adding a louder “and thank you.”
“Mn, everything for Wei Ying,” he hears as he begins to feel the slow tendrils of sleep pulling at him. Lan Wangji’s arm returns to that spot between his shoulder blades. Lan Wangji watches as Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows relax, the edges of his mouth smoothing from his smile. Sleep has claimed him.
“Goodnight, Wei Ying,” he whispers into the silence, pressing one last kiss to his forehead before closing his eyes as well, joining his husband in sleep.