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Nie Mingjue might not be able to see Nie Huaisang anymore, but he knows his little brother well enough to know that he’s panicking hard right now.
“I stocked your fridge, so there’s enough food for a few days, and you know the oven, right? I mean I’m just a phone call away so don’t hesitate to ask for help, especially with cooking, and if you need anything—,”
“Then I know where to find you,” Nie Mingjue completes his sentence with a heavy sigh. “I will be just fine, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue tells him.
He can imagine how Nie Huaisang is wringing his hands in front of his body, since Nie Mingjue didn’t hear the distinct snap of a fan, and he winks him over.
“Come here,” he says and waits until Nie Huaisang steps into his space before he pulls him into a hug.
“I will be fine,” Nie Mingjue says and he feels how Nie Huaisang shakes his head.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be living alone, it’s not right, who’s going to help you?”
“I also shouldn’t be living with my baby brother,” Nie Mingjue shoots back and squeezes Nie Huaisang a bit harder. “We talked about this. I’m going to be just fine, I memorized the apartment and we practiced cooking. And if I am not fine, then I’ll call you.”
“Promise me,” Nie Huaisang says into his shirt and Nie Mingjue presses a kiss to his head.
“I promise,” he immediately says, because for all that Nie Mingjue hates accepting help, he knows it would be stupid not to ask for some now that he’s blind.
Nie Huaisang lets out a long sigh at that, but eventually he pulls away.
“Alright,” he agrees and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I will leave you to it then,” he whispers and Nie Mingjue can’t hide the smile.
“You’re more worried than I am,” he teases. “One could think you’re the one who lost his sight.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re going to worry so one of us has to,” Nie Huaisang snaps back.
“You’re worried enough for the both of us. Now go home, let me spend the first day in my own apartment in peace,” Nie Mingjue says, and reaches out, unsteadily stepping forward until he finds Nie Huaisang.
He probably stepped closer, but neither of them is going to mention it.
“Go, go, go,” Nie Mingjue says and starts pushing him into the direction of the door.
Or at least to where he hopes the door is.
“That’s the bathroom,” Nie Huaisang says, and Nie Mingjue shakes his head.
“Nope, it’s not, I’m not falling for that, I have the apartment memorized.”
“But you’re all turned around,” Nie Huaisang lowly says and turns Nie Mingjue into the right direction.
“Oh,” Nie Mingjue gives back, but he brushes it off after a moment. “That’s because you’ve been talking me into circles for hours now. I swear to the gods, Huaisang, I will be fine.”
There’s a beat of silence before Nie Huaisang whispers “Okay, da-ge.”
He leaves pretty quickly after that, and once the door closes behind him, Nie Mingjue is all alone in his very own apartment.
All alone in the silence and the darkness.
Nie Mingjue told Nie Huaisang that he would be fine—and he will be—but it will probably take him some time to get used to this.
His blindness is a pretty recent development after all.
Nie Mingjue steps forward until he feels the front door under his hands and then he stands with his back to it. He did memorize the apartment—they have toured it often enough after all—and he can find his way around if he knows where he starts.
Nie Mingjue makes his way to the kitchen, slowly shuffling along, not entirely sure of the position of the furniture yet, but he finds the fridge and he also finds something to drink.
Nie Huaisang would be so proud of him.
Nie Mingjue takes his drink back to the living-room, where he sinks down on the couch, and then he just sits there.
His apartment is quiet; there’s no Nie Huaisang around anymore, who flutters around him like a nervous bird, and it all feels like too much all of a sudden.
Nie Mingjue can feel his heartbeat increase and while he was never prone to panic attacks before he lost his sight, he had a few since it happened. Usually Nie Huaisang is around to talk him out of it, but Nie Mingjue is alone now and the thought almost makes him panic more.
There is no sound in his apartment and Nie Mingjue fumbles for his phone, desperate to play any kind of music to keep him distracted when suddenly the sound of a flute reaches him.
Nie Mingjue blinks into the darkness, totally taken aback by the sound, and by the time he finds his bearing again, the person is almost through the first song.
Nie Mingjue doesn’t know much about classic music, and even less about the flute, but the sound is beautiful, almost ethereal and he could listen to it all day long.
He doesn’t quite get his wish, because the flutist stops after roughly half an hour of playing, but Nie Mingjue feels more centred anyway.
Centred enough to find his way back to the kitchen and make a simple dinner for himself, more flute songs playing from YouTube.
They are not quite as beautiful as what Nie Mingjue just heard, but they are enough to keep him calm.
~*~*~
The flutist—and it must be a neighbour—practices at all hours of the day, sometimes several times a day.
Nie Mingjue is far from complaining about that, because whenever his mystery neighbour starts, he sits down and simply listens and Nie Mingjue could swear he has never been this calm in his entire life.
Nie Huaisang would be so proud of him.
It’s his third week in the new apartment and so far Nie Mingjue called Nie Huaisang for help only once, preferring to call him to simply talk, and he hasn’t burned anything down yet.
It’s the small things, Nie Mingjue reminds himself.
His neighbour hasn’t played today yet, and Nie Mingjue finds himself worrying about the flutist. He doesn’t seem to have a set schedule, but it’s already late in the afternoon and usually by now his neighbour would have played at least once already, but there’s only silence.
Until someone knocks at his door.
“Coming,” Nie Mingjue calls out and carefully makes his way over to the door, quite proud with himself when he makes it without running into any stray furniture.
“Who is it?” he asks as soon as he opens the door, because Nie Huaisang would have let himself in, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t really have any friends that would drop by unannounced.
“Oh,” a very beautiful voice says and Nie Mingjue frowns.
“Yes?” he asks when nothing more is being said and he can hear some nervous fidgeting from the other person.
“Oh, sorry, hi,” the guy says and Nie Mingjue expectantly raises an eyebrow. “I’m your neighbour, the one bothering you with all the flute playing,” the guy goes on and that brings a smile to Nie Mingjue’s face.
“Not bothering,” he immediately says, because the music is anything but bothering to him, and he holds out a hand. “Nie Mingjue, and I’m a great fan of your music.”
“That’s a relief,” the guy says and a surprisingly strong hand grasps his. “Lan Xichen.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Nie Mingjue says.
“Likewise,” Lan Xichen gives back and then chuckles nervously. “I know it’s super later, after three weeks, but welcome to the house, I guess.”
“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue honestly says and smiles a little bit. “Are you a flutist?”
“Yes,” Lan Xichen tells him. “I really am sorry for playing at all hours of the day. If it’s disturbing your work or anything, I can stick to certain hours?”
“No, please don’t,” Nie Mingjue quickly says and huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “I am actually really enjoying your playing. It’s very comforting and relaxing and it’s not like I have much else to do but to listen to it,” he says with a shrug and points at his eyes. “It’s a recent development, so I haven’t quite found my footing in life again yet,” he explains.
“Oh, I see,” Lan Xichen says and then there’s a sound like he smacked his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he tacks on, but Nie Mingjue laughs.
“No need to be,” he tells him.
“I didn’t mean to overstep, this must be hard for you,” Lan Xichen says, and Nie Mingjue can hear how embarrassed he is.
“It is, but the stroke I had should have killed me instead of just blinding me, so I’m counting myself lucky,” Nie Mingjue explains and he tries to keep his voice even.
It is hard, suddenly being blind, and there are certain hours of the day where he doesn’t cope all that well with it, but Lan Xichen seems to have a knack for knowing when those moments hit, because his flute playing has centred Nie Mingjue more than once already.
Not that he’s about to explain that.
“Anyway, please don’t stop playing on my account, I do rather enjoy it,” Nie Mingjue says when the atmosphere becomes rather awkward.
“I will keep that in mind then,” Lan Xichen promises. “If you ever need help with anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he then offers and Nie Mingjue gives him a grateful smile.
“Thank you,” he sincerely says, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to take Lan Xichen up on his offer, if only so he doesn’t have to rely on Nie Huaisang too much.
“No worries,” Lan Xichen lightly says and briefly squeezes Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I’ll head back then. If you ever do have a request, I might be open to playing it, just saying,” Lan Xichen tells him and it sounds like he’s already walking back to his door.
“I don’t know enough to request anything, but please just keep playing what you know,” Nie Mingjue calls after him and the last thing he hears before Lan Xichen vanishes into his own apartment is the most beautiful laugh Nie Mingjue has ever heard.
Well, damn.
~*~*~
After their little talk, Lan Xichen plays even more frequently than he had before. He doesn’t just practice two or three times a day, but sometimes a handful of times, and Nie Mingjue is kind of worried that he’s doing it just for him.
He has to show how grateful he is somehow, Nie Mingjue decides and decidedly makes his way out of the apartment. He keeps a hand to the wall until he reaches what must be Lan Xichen’s front door, where he knocks a few times.
The flute music abruptly stops and Nie Mingjue curses himself. He really should have waited until Lan Xichen is done with his practice.
“Yes?” Lan Xichen asks when he opens the door. “Am I disturbing you?” he then asks and he sounds apologetic.
“No, not at all,” Nie Mingjue rushes to reassure him. “I just realized you’re playing more often than before and I can’t help but to think that you’re doing it for me,” he admits, even though he can feel himself blush.
“Yeah, well,” Lan Xichen mutters and he sounds just as embarrassed as Nie Mingjue feels. “I might,” he then admits. “You said you found it relaxing, so I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
“And I’m here to thank you for it,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “With dinner, if you want?”
“You cooked?” Lan Xichen asks and he sounds so worried he reminds him of Nie Huaisang.
“I was thinking take-out, actually,” Nie Mingjue admits and he can hear Lan Xichen sigh.
“Really, that’s not necessary,” Lan Xichen gives back.
“Oh,” Nie Mingjue breathes out, disappointment crashing into him. “Sorry for bothering you then.”
“No, I didn’t mean,” Lan Xichen rushes out and grabs Nie Mingjue’s arm before he can turn completely away. “I just meant that’s really not necessary but dinner sounds nice,” he then rushes out and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.
“Okay, then,” he says. “Are you free now?” he asks tilting his head in question and Lan Xichen laughs.
“If you let me put my flute away, then yes. Or did you want me to bring it, so I can play for you?”
Nie Mingjue wants to say yes to that, he would love to hear Lan Xichen play without the walls dividing them, but this is about saying thank you and not having Lan Xichen give him his own personal concert, so Nie Mingjue shakes his head.
“Go put it away,” he instructs Lan Xichen, who chuckles, but retreats at Nie Mingjue’s words.
He’s back quickly enough, though and Nie Mingjue can feel that he wants to ask something. He shuffles his feet almost as much as Nie Huaisang does when he’s nervous.
“What?” he gently asks and Lan Xichen lets out a startled breath.
“Do you want my arm, so I can guide you? I mean, I know you got here by yourself and I’m not actually sure if I’m overstepping, but I could, if you want to?”
“Yes, thank you,” Nie Mingjue says once Lan Xichen is done rambling and he holds out his hand expectantly.
He found his way to Lan Xichen’s door by sticking close to the wall and he’s sure it didn’t make for a very dignified picture. He would like to not let Lan Xichen see that.
Lan Xichen quickly offers him his own arm, and when Nie Mingjue puts a hand on it, he realizes that Lan Xichen must work out quite a lot. That or playing the flute gives you more muscles than Nie Mingjue ever thought.
“What were you thinking for take-out?” Lan Xichen asks him as he leads him back to Nie Mingjue’s own apartment and Nie Mingjue shrugs.
“What are you in the mood for?” he shoots back and they bicker over the different options for almost half an hour before they settle on pizza from the place around the corner.
It’s one of the best evenings Nie Mingjue has had in a while.
~*~*~
Nie Mingjue isn’t entirely sure how it happens, but Lan Xichen doesn’t really leave after that evening.
He comes over at least once a day, usually for a few hours, bringing his flute despite Nie Mingjue’s insistence that he doesn’t need constant supervision, and Lan Xichen brushes him off every time.
Nie Mingjue can’t say that he minds that too much, because Lan Xichen isn’t overbearing at all. He let’s Nie Mingjue do his own stuff, always letting him know that he’s there should he need help but usually waiting until Nie Mingjue actually asks for it, and Nie Mingjue is very grateful for that.
Lan Xichen isn’t bad company either—he has a very particular sense of humor that Nie Mingjue finds entirely too charming—and sometimes Nie Mingjue feels like he has known Lan Xichen his entire life.
Now that Lan Xichen is playing more and more from his apartment, Nie Mingjue actually gets to know what the songs are called and so he finally is able to make a few requests. He loves all of Lan Xichen’s songs though, and he is not as surprised as he probably should be when he finds out that his favourite song is a song Lan Xichen composed himself.
It’s the one that stopped the panic attack all those weeks back and Lan Xichen plays it often, once Nie Mingjue tells him about that.
“You don’t always have to play that song, you know,” Nie Mingjue says from where he’s sitting on the couch, listening to Lan Xichen play. “I didn’t have a panic attack in a while.”
“I know,” Lan Xichen gives back but there’s a smile in his voice, Nie Mingjue can tell. “But you like this song.”
“How would you know?” Nie Mingjue shoots back, even though Lan Xichen is right and it fills him with warmth that Lan Xichen seems to know him so well.
“Well, apart from the fact that you told me,” Lan Xichen teases, “you always relax when I play it. You’d probably melt into the couch if you could.”
“If you play it more often, I just might,” Nie Mingjue gives back and smiles, very satisfied with himself when Lan Xichen laughs.
“That is still my most favourite sound, though,” Nie Mingjue blurts out and then promptly slaps a hand over his mouth.
He didn’t mean to say that at all.
“Fuck,” he mutters, when Lan Xichen’s laugh stops immediately, and repeats it with more vigour when Lan Xichen stays silent after all.
“Fuck, forget I said that,” he pleads and his stomach falls when Lan Xichen continues to stay silent.
Nie Mingjue inwardly curses himself; having Lan Xichen in his life is the best thing that happened since he lost his sight, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t want to imagine how it would be without Lan Xichen.
“I don’t think I will,” Lan Xichen finally says, and Nie Mingjue’s stomach drops even as he sits up.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, but Lan Xichen doesn’t let him finish.
“I’m not,” he gives back and Nie Mingjue can hear him put his flute down.
He’s not going to leave immediately, that’s good then. Maybe Nie Mingjue can salvage this somehow.
“I’m not at all sorry,” Lan Xichen says, and his voice is a lot closer than it was a moment ago, so he probably isn’t leaving right away.
Nie Mingjue breathes a little bit more easy with that knowledge.
Only to have that breath stolen away completely when Lan Xichen suddenly steps close. He pushes Nie Mingjue back into the cushions before he settles himself on Nie Mingjue’s lap.
Nie Mingjue’s hands automatically move to his hips and he can feel his heart hammering away in his chest.
“Is this okay?” Lan Xichen breathes and Nie Mingjue involuntarily clenches his hands.
“Yes,” he gives back, resting his head on the couch and cursing how rough his voice sound all of a sudden. “Yes, it is,” he reiterates and he can feel how Lan Xichen shifts his weight at hearing that.
The kiss that follows is not quite as surprising but it still leaves Nie Mingjue breathless.
“And that?” Lan Xichen whispers against his lips and Nie Mingjue strains up to close that little bit of distance Lan Xichen created.
“Very okay,” Nie Mingjue mutters as he sinks back again and hearing Lan Xichen laugh up close is even more beautiful.
“Good,” Lan Xichen gives back right before he dives in again and Nie Mingjue wholeheartedly agrees.
This is more than good. And it gets even better when Lan Xichen never really leaves afterwards.