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Taking care of things was Lan Sizhui's specialty.
After being old enough to do so, he would gather vegetables — fresh or leftover from the kitchen — and make his way to feed the rabbits in the field by himself, spending time to play with them as he did so.
Always taking the initiative during the night hunts with their sect's juniors to act as their leader, he would also make sure any of the disciples were alright and always take the blame for any mishaps during said night hunts.
Sizhui was a respectable, responsible Lan sect disciple who liked to take care of things.
It did not limit to just feeding Hanguang-Jun's rabbits or leading a few disciples, however.
Sizhui's gaze slowly turns to his right side as he hears a disgruntled moan and the cracking of knuckles.
"Sit properly, Jingyi." He softly reminds with a small smile, and his friend sighs, not complying at all.
"I've rewritten the rules so many times already, I could do this with my eyes closed!" Lan Jingyi gloats before letting out another exasperated sigh, stretching his arms upwards. Hanguang-Jun had the mercy to not let him write the rules while doing a handstand, but the number of copies he had to write was multiplied.
It would be fine at just that if he hadn't sent Lan Sizhui to keep watch over him as he did so, because with him around - Jingyi was getting distracted and too comfortable, not being able to write down the rules as quickly as he planned to.
"Your handwriting would be a mess if you do so, Jingyi." Came another soft statement from Sizhui, before he reaches for Jingyi's hand — and he swears the contact of the slight brush of skin made him want to interlock their fingers — opting to grab the brush from him. "Let me help you."
Jingyi narrows his eyes at him, "Sizhui, come on, you've already helped me enough by being here, you can't write those for me too!" He was about to grab the brush back with an outstretched hand when Sizhui stops him with his free one, clasping around Jingyi's hand gently.
Maybe for Jingyi, who was indeed much more touchy than the average Lan, this wasn't much. Yet the warmth radiating from him was so inviting, Sizhui wanted to keep holding on. So he does, confident in the solace they were given by being alone in the Library Pavillion as of now.
"Really, it's alright Jingyi." He chuckles softly as he watches the other Lan sigh and roll his eyes, but Jingyi doesn't pull away his hand and instead moves up a bit to position his cushion closer to Sizhui's, and then Jingyi rests his head on his shoulder.
"Fine then, make it look like I wrote it — you wanna hear about the night hunt Hanguang-Jun went to? I heard the other disciples talking about it."
"Gossip is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses," Sizhui simply says as he dips his brush down onto the paper, his lips curling upward fondly when he hears Jingyi continue to talk anyway, his upbeat and lively way of talking adding up to the warm feeling inside Sizhui's chest as he grasps Jingyi's hand gently with one hand, the other occupied with writing.
Lan Sizhui liked to take care of things. "Let me do that for you, Hanguang-Jun," "Let me lead the night hunt tonight Sir Qiren," He would offer.
But he especially liked to take care of things for Lan Jingyi.
He liked to take care of Lan Jingyi.
"Let me take care of you." He wants to say upright, but it always ends up in subtle ways instead.
In Yi City, when the fog had completely swallowed them all and depriving them of sight, Sizhui held on tightly to his dear Jingyi.
"Don't move too much," He reminds, repeating what Senior Mo said to the fearful Jingyi.
"Let me carry you,"
Let me take care of you.
He says, hooking Jingyi's arm around his shoulders as they walk amidst the city.
Sizhui wasn't an impatient person, no, he had the patience of a saint, the others would say. Yet as they walked around aimlessly without success of getting inside a house, he did start to doubt Senior Mo, worried for his friend who was currently under corpse poisoning and was scared out of his wits for what was about to happen.
"It'll be alright." He says in a hushed whisper, and Jingyi looks up at him with a weak smile.
He gives him the same look when Sizhui feeds him the god-forsaken congee.
"Ugh, I don't want to eat anymore."
"Don't waste your food, Jingyi."
"I can feed myself." The other retorts, but Sizhui can't find it in himself to hand him the bowl, a part of him overjoyed at the sight and experience of feeding Lan Jingyi.
Maybe if this wasn't a situation in which a few of them, Jingyi included, were under corpse poisoning; and instead an intimate moment between the two where they get to possibly even feed each other, then Sizhui would enjoy it wholeheartedly.
"Ah, let me wipe that off for you."
Let me take care of you.
The sentence echoes in Sizhui's head once more as he wipes the sweat from Jingyi's forehead, a result of the spicy congee.
He still isn't able to say it out loud, word for word, in front of Lan Jingyi even when he's said countless other things already.
"I like you." He had confessed, amidst the pile of bunny rabbits gathered among them when Jingyi offered to accompany him.
Jingyi was dumbstruck, holding a bunny in his hands and staring back at him, frozen solid. A butterfly took the opportunity to rest atop the side of Jingyi's head, and Sizhui remembers Senior Wei recalling to him about what he did with his toys when he was younger. The blush on his face went a deeper shade of crimson from embarrassment.
"I like you too!" Jingyi exclaims, all according to the butterflies' script — despite Jingyi's voice cracking at the reply when younger Sizhui had envisioned such a confession to be much more graceful.
The rabbit leaped out of his hands and Jingyi had thrown himself at Sizhui, the two embracing each other as the rabbits scurry to and fro between them, concerned for their caretakers.
Sizhui didn't have the time to comfort the cotton balls when Jingyi had pulled away from their embrace, smile as wide and bright as ever, overjoyed to the point he was in tears.
When a teardrop lands on Sizhui's cheek, he props himself up to reach for Jingyi's face, laughing as he held back joyful tears of his own.
"Let me take care of those."
Let me take care of you.
It's a ridiculous thing to be so bashful about, but Sizhui still can't say it. Its implication of how intimate his feelings were for Lan Jingyi was much more embarassing than having to express it with an "I love you."
So he says that instead.
"I love you, Jingyi."
And their lips meet, softer than the rabbits scattered among them.
"Let me take care of you."
Sizhui finally says it out loud, his voice still wavering from flushed embarrassment even when Jingyi was underneath him.
Brilliant vermillion robes halfway removed, Jingyi's cheeks were almost the same shade as he pants softly, lips bruised, and eyes glossy with need. He grips Sizhui's hand, interlocking their fingers as their ribbons laced around their fingers as well in a silent vow of love for each other.
"Let me take care of you," Sizhui repeats, lowering his head to bring Jingyi's hand up and place a chaste kiss upon his knuckles, the softness of it resembling the gentle descent of a butterfly on a flower.
"You always have, A-Yuan." Jingyi speaks up, eyes twinkling as he smiles up at Sizhui.
He returns the expression right before Jingyi pulls himself up to press their lips together.
"As my friend and fellow Lan sect disciple," Jingyi whispers before kissing him again.
"As my cultivation partner and as my lover," He hums.
"And as my husband. Through and through," Another gentle kiss. "You've always been taking care of me."
Sizhui chuckles, kissing him back with equal softness, lingering in the sensation of their lips pressed together as he replies with a promise.
"And I always will, A-Yi."
Maybe just taking care of things was Lan Sizhui's specialty.
But taking care of Lan Jingyi was what he loved to do the most.