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Jiang Cheng doesn’t get why Lan Wangji bothered to come out to his birthday party at all. He’d mentioned the fact that he was planning on hitting up a few clubs after the no-doubt awkward family dinner they’d be having with his parents. Jiang Cheng had managed to make it lunch which left even more time for them to drink the taste of passive aggressive sniping and inevitable parental disappointment from their mouths. And Wei Wuxian had nodded and smirked and Jiang Cheng just hoped they didn’t end up in a strip club when he was too drunk to remember it this time.
His sister had abandoned them after the first bar, her obnoxious fiance showing up in his ostentatiously shiny car to drive her back to their apartment. Jiang Cheng was glad she’d come out with them - it stopped any of them from getting too enthusiastic about tequila too early. But with A-Li gone, it was as if all control was loosed. Wei Wuxian had started texting and, when they arrived at the first club, a group of their friends had cheered from the booths they’d commandeered. There was even a ragged chorus of “Happy Birthday” which was mercifully drowned out by the loud music. Then Nie Huaisang had slammed a full bottle of bourbon onto the table and the evening got a lot better.
The thing was, Jiang Cheng wasn’t much of a dancer. He would let himself be pulled out onto the crowded, pulsing floor for a few songs before heading back to his friends and watching and drinking. He never relied on his dance moves to attract people. He would wait until whoever had caught his eye headed to the bar and offer to buy them a drink. That might lead to a conversation or an offer to head back to the dancefloor which he would gladly take. Or an abrupt refusal. In which case, he would slink back to his booth and let his friends tease him mercilessly.
Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, loved the dance floor. He would swallow a few shots with Jiang Cheng, hips already starting to move, before dragging whoever he could out to keep him company. Even when people abandoned him for a drink or a break or a potential hook up, Wei Wuxian would continue to dance, lost in his own communion between the beat and the lights and the crowd around him. He didn’t even seem to realise when people tried dancing with him to entice him to a more horizontal style of dance. Jiang Cheng fucking despaired sometimes.
And now his brother’s roommate had shown up. To sit in Jiang Cheng’s booth. And drink water. He hadn’t even said happy birthday. He’d just slid alongside Jiang Cheng and nodded. Jiang Cheng thought he might have been in the room when he was telling Wei Wuxian about the plans for tonight but he wasn’t entirely sure. It wasn’t like the guy made a lot of noise. Or, really, even talked.
But Jiang Cheng had been brought up properly, so he did the polite thing and offered Lan Wangji a drink. And watched the prissy bastard screw up his mouth in a moue of disgust.
“I do not drink,” he was told. And wasn’t that making even less sense. Why else come to a club? Didn’t drink. Didn’t dance. Didn’t seem to be letting his eyes wander. What the fuck was he doing here? It was almost enough to kill the buzz Jiang Cheng was carefully nurturing.
Wei Wuxian danced his way over, shirt stuck to his skin with sweat. It should be gross but Jiang Cheng had seen it often enough to be able to ignore it. Sometimes Wei Wuxian would strip off his shirt which always led to an embarrassing conversation about taste and decency that Jiang Cheng definitely didn’t want to repeat on his birthday.
“Ah, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian said before snagging the bottle of water from Lan Wangji’s hand and swallowing. And swallowing. He drank half of the bottle before placing it back in front of Lan Wangji. Then Wei Wuxian dashed his hand across his mouth, grinned and slipped back onto the dance floor.
Jiang Cheng was afraid to look but also desperately curious to know what Lan Wangji would do. He knew he’d have slapped Wei Wuxian’s hand away before the drink had even been lifted from the table. He knew of Wei Wuxian’s evil ways. And Lan Wangji also had an older brother - he should know of their sneaky, terrible ways.
Lan Wangji calmly picked up the bottle and sipped at it before settling it back to the table. His expression hadn’t, as far as Jiang Cheng could make out, even shifted. What, and he could not repeat this enough, the fuck. Time to hit the bar.
The pattern repeated itself twice more. Wei Wuxian would come out of the crowd, increasingly disheveled, snag Lan Wangji’s bottle of water and drink and vanish back onto the dancefloor. Jiang Cheng worked his way through four beers and a fruity pink cocktail with a little umbrella that Nie Huaisang thought was hilarious. His friends came and sat and shouted in his ear. And Jiang Cheng tried to ignore the itch that was Lan Wangji’s presence at his other side.
Time slipped a little, and suddenly the DJ was announcing the last song. Jiang Cheng wasn’t too fussed and started gathering coats. He wondered if he should order a cab or if they were going to head somewhere else. He was kinda hungry. Lunch had been at some place that charged a lot for tiny plates of food. Something deep fried would be a nice option and a good way to end his birthday.
He was ready to suggest that when Wei Wuxian showed up at the table again. Jiang Cheng was expecting to be begged back onto the dancefloor for “just one more dance” when instead Wei Wuxian held out his hand to Lan Wangji, who slid out of the booth.
“Last dance?” Wei Wuxian said, a smile Jiang Cheng wasn’t entirely familiar with on his face. Lan Wangji nodded and let himself be led to the edge of the floor. Wei Wuxian didn’t try to force his way back to the centre where he usually held court. As the music slowed to something with a low, throbbing beat that seemed to exacerbate the headache evolving at his temple, Wei Wuxian shamelessly wound his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck. And, unfuckingbelievably, Lan Wangji’s hands found their way around his brother’s waist. Right in front of his eyes.
Another one of Nie Huaisang’s concoctions slid across the table in front of him. The man himself followed with another drink with a cherry speared on his umbrella. “So they finally fuc-”
Jiang Cheng slammed his hand across Nie Huaisang’s mouth as quickly as he could. He could still hear the horrible, evil, insidious words echoing in his mind. “Roommates,” he muttered, before realising how ridiculous he was being. He had listened to Wei Wuxian complaining about Lan Wangji’s neatness and clothes and food and everything. He should have realised what that probably suggested. Wei Wuxian spent entirely too long talking about Lan Wangji.
“And now they’re kissing,” Nie Huaisang informed him. “Drink up. I’ve got bets to collect.”
Jiang Cheng tugged the straw into his mouth. His first sip was pure, unfiltered alcohol. As was his second and his third. Nie Huaisang was a good friend.
“Oh. Oh. I would not have guessed Lan Wangji was a biter,” Nie Huaisang told him. Nie Huaisang was no longer a good friend. The song would have to end soon, right? He would be free soon. Free to pretend this was all a drunken hallucination. He should finish this drink first, though.
The music faded out and lights started flickering on to the disappointed groans of the crowd. Jiang Cheng glanced up, straw scraping at the ice at the bottom of his glass, to see his brother and Lan Wangji walking back towards him, hands entwined.
“So, we’re going to head home.” Wei Wuxian’s throat had a mark that hadn’t been there five minutes ago, a red mouth shaped mark. “Happy birthday! Um.”
Jiang Cheng nodded. He wasn’t quite sure what his face was doing because his brain did not seem to know where to settle and Wei Wuxian looked equally confused.
Nie Huaisang had no such compuncture. “Have fun! And remember - no glove, no love!”
Jiang Cheng did not need that image anywhere near him. He also didn’t really need to see Lan Wangji all but drag Wei Wuxian out of the club in a manner that could only be described as hurried. And possessive. He scrubbed his hands over his face only for Wei Wuxian to drape himself along Lan Wangji’s side and Lan Wangji’s arm to hold him even closer as they joined the crowd by the door.
“Fuck.” Jiang Cheng slid down until his head rested on his arms. "Fuck everything."
Nie Huaisang patted his shoulder. “C’mon. I’ll take you for dumplings.”