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Nie Huaisang is a patient young man, not that people see that in him. And that is fine. Da-ge sees his potential (sees it as wasted, but he sees it). Meng Yao sees a delicate, innocent thing, which suits Huaisang’s purposes for now. Wei Wuxian sees an audience, and Huaisang enjoys the show.
Jiang Cheng, however.
Huaisang thinks that Jiang Cheng might actually see him. All of him. And not just the things they’ve shared in the privacy of one another’s rooms or in sheltered clearings on the back hills behind Cloud Recesses. Huaisang thinks he might have underestimated just how much Jiang Cheng watches and notices and learns.
This thing between them now, it’s a fragile bird, one he tempted and holds cupped between his hands. It thrives under the quiet ministrations in moonlight and in shade. But Huaisang finds himself wanting to take them out into the sun. Not everything, mind. There are quite a lot of things he is happy to keep in darkness, under cover of crisp white sheets, things he never imagined he’d experience, not with any regularity, and not with anything like the tenderness Jiang Cheng shows him. What they have should be enough for him, at least for now.
It is enough. It is enough to wander down to one of the courtyards where Jiang Cheng is practicing sword forms with Lan Wangji. It is enough to sit beside Jiang Yanli and revel in the sisterly affections she doles out so freely, as if love is an unlimited resource.
It is enough when a shadow falls on him and he looks up, shading his eyes against the sun. When a rough hand finds his and pulls him up. It is enough to hear the now-beloved voice, just a little out of breath, say, “Nie Huaisang.”
“Jiang Wanyin,” he replies, because they are in public and there are a dozen disciples around. He tries to take his hand back, but Jiang Cheng holds it tight. “Is everything alright?”
Jiang Cheng moves toward him, slow enough that Huaisang can step aside, catch Jiang Cheng’s arm and lead him away. The other disciples have seen him arm-in-arm with his friends a hundred times. But he holds perfectly still as Jiang Cheng leans in and presses a deliberate kiss to his lips.
“Do you have someplace to be, or would you like to come visit the rabbits with me and Wei Ying before dinner?” he asks, looping an arm around Huaisang’s waist.
Huaisang can only nod and let himself be led away, but the bird in his heart is singing.