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There’s someone watching him from the water.

Jiang Cheng can feel their eyes on him, and he can also just barely see the vaguest shape of a head breaking the surface of the lake, between the reeds, a few dozen yards away.

He huffs. It’s too dark to see clearly at this distance, but he’s pretty sure he knows who that is.

What is that silly fish doing?

He doesn’t know if the merman is trying to be subtle, but if he is, well, Jiang Cheng has got some news for him.

“I can see you, you idiot,” he scoffs, and waits.

The dark shape doesn’t move.

Well, if he wants to play dumb and stay all the way over there, it’s not like Jiang Cheng cares, he tells himself. He saw Lan Xichen just a few days ago, he hasn’t had time to miss him yet. (Actually, a voice starts in his head, before he shuts it down viciously. He does not miss Lan Xichen. That’s ridiculous.)

He could have told him he was planning to visit tonight, though. They usually meet much further along the lakeshore, or ideally, on a remote riverbank. It’s a little strange that Lan Xichen has ventured this close to human civilization, right on the edge of Lotus Pier. Anyone could see him!

Luckily, not many people choose to linger around the lake at this time of day. The fishermen have put away their boats and gone home, the disciples have retreated to the compound, and the children, tired from splashing around all afternoon under the hot sun, have been tucked into bed. Jiang Cheng has the shore to himself tonight, and he has been enjoying the peaceful atmosphere in a rare moment of tranquility. The last rays of the dying sun paint the surface of the lake in pink and golden hues, the gentle, repetitive lapping of the water putting him in an almost meditative mood.

That is, until someone decided to spy on him.

He sighs, loudly. “Are you planning to lurk out there all night? Just come out already!”

Finally, the merman swims closer. Jiang Cheng firmly ignores the way his heart leaps at the sight of the familiar figure, the light scales of his tail set on fire by the sunset, almost-but-not-quite masking that unmistakable shade of silvery-blue.

“Took you long enough,” Jiang Cheng grumbles as the merman stops a short distance away. “What were you thinking, Lan Xi—”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth closes with a snap.

“...You’re not Lan Xichen,” he says, uselessly.

“No,” the other replies, before staring at him mutely.

Well, aren’t they a pair of eloquent motherfuckers.

Jiang Cheng knows he’s gawking, but really, what is he supposed to do?! His brain is whirring a mile a minute, trying to catch up to what he’s seeing with his eyes.

The guy in front of him is… well, he’s basically Lan Xichen, but not. Long, dark hair clinging to his frame and disappearing under the water, held back by the exact same kind of ribbon; smooth skin stretched over a well-defined torso before shifting into the same light-colored scales Jiang Cheng has admired on Lan Xichen; and even the facial features…

Except, Jiang Cheng notices, this man isn’t smiling. He tries to remember a time when Lan Xichen’s face wore anything other than a smile, and comes up empty. This one, though… he looks a little bit like he wouldn’t know how, Jiang Cheng thinks. Not that he looks particularly hostile or anything, just… confused. And mildly disapproving.

For a while, neither of them moves, then Jiang Cheng blurts out, “Do all merfolk look the same, then?”

Not-Xichen’s confused expression melts into a distinctly unimpressed frown. “No.”

Did Jiang Cheng say ‘mildly disapproving’? He meant ‘seriously annoyed’. It’s pretty clear that this guy is judging Jiang Cheng and finding him lacking, and for some unfathomable reason, that doesn’t sit well with Jiang Cheng. Well, okay, not that unfathomable. It probably has something to do with the fact that this man is wearing his friend’s face, a friend who Jiang Cheng may or may not have fluttery feelings for, and all of this is really fucking weird, okay, so —

Hang on. Jiang Cheng’s brain finally processes the merman’s reply, and a flicker of understanding comes to life.

“Wait. Then, does that mean…” he hesitates. “Are you… Lan Zhan?”

The merman stiffens.

That’s a no, then, Jiang Cheng thinks, and he prepares to backtrack, but —

“Yes.”

...Oh. Well, why does he sound so upset about it? What a weird guy.

“However, I would request that you…” The merman trails off. Damn, he looks like each word is a struggle to get out. Jiang Cheng can sort of sympathize with that, and waits impatiently. “That you… not use that name. Please.”

Well, shit. Of course. Jiang Cheng feels like a dick. That’s the name he’s been hearing Wei Wuxian use for years now, but it’s not the one Lan Xichen mentioned when they were discussing his brother. Ugh. Trust Wei Wuxian to be a nuisance even when he’s not here and rub off his own rudeness onto Jiang Cheng.

“Right. I’m sorry.Your brother mentioned your name was, uh…” He racks his brain for the memory. “Wangji? Is that it?”

The merman relaxes visibly. “Mm,” he nods.

“Okay. Well, nice to meet you, I guess,” Jiang Cheng concludes awkwardly.

“Yes.” Lan Wangji waits.

...Oh! Right. Wow, Jiang Cheng is slow today. “I’m Jiang Cheng,” he adds belatedly.

“I know.”

“...”

Well, this is great. Jiang Cheng is really glad to have met someone who’s as socially inept as he is. Makes for great conversation. If only Lan Xichen were here to save them both, or better yet, that moron Wei Wuxian…

Speaking of —

“So, uh. Have you come to see my brother, or…?”

Lan Wangji tilts his head.

“Wei Wuxian? Ring any bells?”

At that, the merman’s eyes widen, but he still doesn’t say anything. Jiang Cheng isn’t sure how to interpret the look on his face.

“I could… go get him for you, if you want?”

There’s a splash, and a second later, Lan Wangji reappears further away than he had been before. If he didn’t know any better, Jiang Cheng would say that he looks almost panicked.

“Or not,” he mutters. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not, uh, delighted to meet you and all, but. Did you need something?”

There is no response. Jiang Cheng is starting to get a bit uneasy — he’s not used to being relied on to do all the talking, all right, and he thinks he’s already been pretty generous considering the guy was creeping on him from behind the reeds three minutes ago.

But what if he’s here to deliver a message? What if there’s something wrong with Lan Xichen, what if he’s hurt or sick or can’t come anymore? Or, oh gods, what if he —

Before Jiang Cheng can work himself into any more of a state, a loud voice breaks through the tranquil atmosphere.

“Oi! Jiang Cheng! What are you doing here, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Jiang Cheng jumps and swears, startled out of his skin. “Wei Wuxian! Can’t you announce yourself like a normal person?!”

“Where’s the fun in that?” the other sniggers, skipping over. “No, but really, what are you doing? Dinner’s about to start.”

“I was just…” Jiang Cheng turns back toward the lake and trails off.

Lan Wangji is gone.

There’s not even a ripple to indicate where he was mere seconds ago, and if Jiang Cheng hadn’t become intimately aware of the fact that merfolk are, in fact, very much a thing, he would probably be wondering if he’s going mad right about now.

Over the next few days, it happens again. And again. And again. Every time Jiang Cheng goes down to the lake, he gets the same creeping feeling of being watched. Once or twice, he manages to get a glimpse of the merman, though he’s hiding much more carefully now; however, despite his best efforts, he never gets him to come out and speak again.

“It’s weird,” Jiang Cheng complains. “It’s weird, and creepy, and — are you laughing?”

“No,” Lan Xichen replies, laughing.

“Right,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “You’re a real help. Thanks.”

Lan Xichen only laughs harder. Jiang Cheng resigns himself to this, and lets him get it all out of his system so they can go back to having an actual productive conversation. The fact that Lan Xichen is, once again, letting slip tiny snorts and hiccups in between his giggles is completely irrelevant and not at all a factor in this decision, thank you very much. Jiang Cheng does not find this cute in the slightest. He is simply deciding to be the bigger person here and allow his friend to have some fun at his expense, out of the kindness of his heart.

If Jiang Cheng were any less self-aware, he might even believe that.

Lan Xichen’s chuckles die down after a moment. “Are you done?” Jiang Cheng sniffs, with great dignity.

“Hmm,” the merman replies, smiling. “For now.”

“Great. Can we skip to the part where you tell me how to deal with your brother, now?”

“'Deal’ with him? How do you mean?”

“I don’t know! If he could stop following me, that would be a start!”

Lan Xichen hums. “Wangji is stubborn, and rarely does anything without reason. I doubt there’s anything you can do.”

“What does he want, though?! I thought at first he wanted to meet my brother, but clearly, that’s not the case, so — what? Is he here to make sure I’m not a bad influence on you, or something?” He snorts.

Beside him, Lan Xichen is suspiciously silent.

“...Seriously?!”

Lan Xichen sighs. “I suspect this might be his reasoning, yes.”

“Oh my god,” Jiang Cheng groans, flopping onto his back on the soft riverbank. He frowns for a moment, and then, “...Actually, you know what? He’s probably right. You’re such a walking disaster, if I were him, I’d want to put a leash on you, too.”

“Excuse me,” the merman splutters. “First of all, I am not a ‘walking’ anything, and second of all, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “ One of those things is true.”

“I’m older than you!”

“Yeah, you are, and remind me again which one of us got himself caught in a trap the first time we met, and which one had to help him out of said trap?”

“That was months ago!” the merman complains. “Are you going to hold that over my head forever?”

Jiang Cheng smirks. “Take a wild guess.”

Lan Xichen sinks further into the water, looking mutinous. When his eyes flick with a calculating gleam to Jiang Cheng’s legs, sprawled out in front of him, the human is quick to retract them and scoot backward a few inches, out of his reach. “Oh no you don’t,” he warns. The merman pouts.

Lan Xichen is always trying to get him to come into the water, by any and all available means — wheedling, teasing, cajoling, pleading, scheming — but so far, he hasn’t been successful. It’s not that Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to swim with Lan Xichen, just… there hasn’t been a right time for it, that’s all. And, fine, maybe the idea of sharing space with Lan Xichen, of treading the same waters as him, is, for some reason, a bit daunting in Jiang Cheng’s mind; but he’ll get over it, eventually, okay? He will. He just needs a little more time.

“You know, A-Cheng, one of these days, I’ll start believing you can’t swim at all,” the merman needles.

“I can swim just fine,” Jiang Cheng scowls. (He is, in fact, the best swimmer in Yunmeng, at least to his knowledge.) “Just not as well as, you know, an actual fish. ”

Lan Xichen doesn’t rise to the bait (gods, Jiang Cheng is hilarious even inside his own head), but instead hums placidly. “If you say so.”

“Anyway, back to the topic,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “Please do something about your weirdo brother, or I can’t guarantee no one else will notice him. He’s not as stealthy as he thinks he is.”

Lan Xichen hums noncommittally once more. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do.”

“I don’t know! Anything! He’s your brother! But you better do it quick, because my own idiot of a shixiong is very, very good at finding stuff he isn’t supposed to, and then sticking his nose right into it. So unless you want him to find out about you guys...”

When Lan Xichen fails to look particularly worried, Jiang Cheng squints at him. Is the merman planning something...?

“Lan Xichen,” he starts slowly. “You’ve got your scheming face on.”

“I don’t have a scheming face.”

“Yes you do. There’s your regular innocent face, and then there’s this innocent face, which you only wear when you’re plotting something awful. I’ve seen it before. Don’t deny it.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Lan Xichen says with wide eyes and a guileless look. Highly suspicious.

“I mean,” Jiang Cheng begins darkly, “that the last time you made that face, I didn’t think anything of it, and then I decided to take a nap, and then — ”

“All right, all right, I get it…”

“— and then, I woke up to someone groping my toes — ”

“They were right there! How was I supposed to resist?!”

Jiang Cheng slaps a hand over his own burning face, burying the acute embarrassment the memory brings up under a cover of righteous indignation.

Honestly, it would’ve been hilarious, and probably kind of adorable, too, if the victim of Lan Xichen’s curiosity had been anyone else. As it is, however, Jiang Cheng can’t help the mortification he feels when he thinks back to that afternoon. It was a perfect summer day, warm with a slight breeze, a welcome reprieve from the heat wave that had settled over Yunmeng in the past few days. They’d met in their usual spot, near the bend where Jiang Cheng’s boat got stranded on that first, fateful day, and Jiang Cheng had seized the chance to close his eyes in the shade of a birch tree, tired from a restless night tossing and turning in the sweltering heat.

Clearly, Lan Xichen must have taken it as an invitation (unless he just had that little self-control), because next thing Jiang Cheng knew, he was startling awake from the unnerving sensation of wet fingers tickling the soles of his feet (“I was just observing!”), one webbed hand lightly circling his ankle and the other tracing careful lines along the underside, all the way from his heel to the dips between his toes (“Oh, these look so cute! Jiang Cheng, look, they’re wiggling!”).

Needless to say, Jiang Cheng’s immediate and violent string of expletives had been particularly colorful, high-pitched and long-winded, and when he finally wound down from his explosion of shocked outrage, there was very little chance that anyone in a three-mile radius (thankfully consisting of empty forest) was left in any doubt regarding his feelings on uninvited poking.

Jiang Cheng wishes he could say that was the end of it, but alas, the merman is persistent.

“I’m just saying, I don’t understand what’s so strange about me being interested in your legs. They’re so fascinating. And I’ve never seen any from up close before!”

“Yeah? Find yourself another test subject, then,” mutters Jiang Cheng, still red up to his ears.

“But I don’t want another one! And, you know, if it helps, you can touch my tail too,” Lan Xichen offers with perfect sincerity.

Jiang Cheng wants to die. Why did he bring this up again? He’s sure there was a reason. He was trying to prove a point about — ah! Yes.

“Please, please, please, can we stop with the indecent proposals and get on with the brother issue instead? Namely, why you seem so eager for Lan Wangji to expose himself?”

Lan Xichen, who tilted his head confusedly at “indecent proposals”, regains a placid smile. He gives Jiang Cheng a slow blink, the smile lifting almost imperceptibly at one corner. “You’re not curious?”

Jiang Cheng frowns. “About?”

“Their relationship.”

“Pretty sure they don’t have one. Unless you count a chance meeting half a dozen years ago as a ‘relationship’, which, personally, I don’t.”

The merman hums again. “Regardless, I find it intriguing that Wangji has been avoiding all of my questions regarding this meeting. He is not one to keep secrets from me, usually. I think, perhaps, some… encouragement… would not go amiss.”

“You meddlesome bastard,” Jiang Cheng marvels. It definitely doesn’t come out as an insult.

Lan Xichen smiles and ducks his head (he can probably read the compliment in Jiang Cheng’s tone. Goddammit, they’ve been spending too much time together, Jiang Cheng is losing his edge), then looks up through his lashes. “You’ll help me, yes?”

Just for appearances’ sake — though he knows he’s not fooling anyone — Jiang Cheng sighs heavily. “I suppose,” he groans. “But just so you know, my brother lives to defy expectations, so you’re playing with fire. Don’t come crying to me when it all somehow comes back to bite you in the ass.”

Lan Xichen just smiles a brilliant smile and swims up to the shore to rest his elbows on the grassy bank. The muscles of his arms bunch when he leans forward — not that Jiang Cheng is looking — and he reaches a hand toward the human, palm facing up.

His posture is relaxed, entirely trusting, and Jiang Cheng is powerless to resist. His hand slips into the merman’s, dry skin on wet, and Lan Xichen laces their fingers together.

As often as they have done this, it still leaves Jiang Cheng with a faint urge to scream with the casual, unquestioning intimacy of it. He dismisses it and focuses on not squeezing the delicate webbing too tightly between his own fingers.

“Thank you, Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng grunts in reply, distracted. His gaze catches on the jade pendant hanging around Lan Xichen’s neck — with the way he’s leaning forward, it sways back and forth hypnotically at the end of its string. Jiang Cheng escapes its magnetism and follows a path up the wet trails on the merman’s clavicles, along the strands of hair sticking messily to the side of his neck, up to his smiling lips.

“It’s a deal, then.”

Jiang Cheng jolts back to awareness and huffs a breath. “What did I just agree to…?”

Lan Xichen just beams at him again and, in a move that would be condescending from anyone else but is just comforting coming from him, brings his free hand over to pat Jiang Cheng’s own trapped hand and coos, “Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry, A-Cheng, everything will be fine.”

Jiang Cheng’s plans for subtlety last approximately until the next time he spots Lan Wangji lurking like the world’s creepiest lake monster and accidentally scaring a group of little kids — like he said, the guy isn’t nearly as undetectable as he probably thinks he is, okay — that is, for a grand total of four days.

“You need me to do what now?!”

But Jiang Cheng is past caring about petty things like explanations, now, and just drags Wei Wuxian by the collar of his robes. He marches them both out of the training hall and toward the pier.

“Jiang Cheng! What do you mean? Where are we going? Aiyah, stop pulling at my robes, they’ll fall off!”

“Should’ve put them on properly, then,” Jiang Cheng retorts mercilessly, not slowing his pace.

“You know, it’s not that I don’t want to run naked through the streets of Lotus Pier —” (oh, Jiang Cheng is aware. That was one particularly ill-advised evening, full of too much wine and too many teenage hormones and Nie Huaisang’s stupid dares) “— but you could at least buy me dinner first? You’re so cheap, Jiang Cheng, this is why no one wants to date you — hurk…!”

“Oops, my bad,” Jiang Cheng says sweetly, stopping for a nanosecond so Wei Wuxian can get his feet under him again after being yanked roughly forward and tripping over the flat dirt road.

Wei Wuxian wheezes. “Abuse! Abuse! I’m being abused!”

“Then stop dragging your feet, moron!”

“No! Not until you say where we’re going!”

“I told you,” Jiang Cheng grinds out, “I need you to go talk to my friend’s brother —”

“See, this is where you stop making sense, because everybody from here to Lanling knows you don’t have any friends — ow!!”

“You’re an asshole,” Jiang Cheng hisses, retracting his free hand after using it to slap Wei Wuxian upside the head. “I swear, if I hadn’t promised him I’d help…”

“Well, where’s this friend, then?!” Wei Wuxian complains, rubbing his head with a grimace. “Or better yet, where’s the brother? Show me! I’m waiting!”

“Oh my god, that is literally what I’m — UGH! Why are you such a fucking idiot?! Just… just, shut up! And follow me!”

At this point, thankfully, Wei Wuxian’s curiosity seems suitably piqued, and he stops wriggling in Jiang Cheng’s grasp long enough for them to make progress. Jiang Cheng leads them in long strides along the road to the pier, past the dock where the fishing boats have been pulled in for the night, and down to a more secluded stretch of shore where he knows he will find what he’s looking for.

Wei Wuxian comes to a stop next to him and looks around, bemused. Before Jiang Cheng can even do anything, his brother squints at him suspiciously. “All right, Jiang Cheng, what are you planning?? There’s no one here!”

“Oh, he’s around here somewhere. Trust me on that,” Jiang Cheng says, rolling his eyes. The merman hasn’t deviated from his routine in almost two weeks; if he isn’t lurking less than a stone’s throw away from them, Jiang Cheng will eat his boots.

Wei Wuxian crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Oh yeah? Where?” He makes a show of looking around. “Is he hiding behind the reeds??”

You think you’re joking, Jiang Cheng thinks. “Watch,” he says.

He walks a few steps to the edge of the water, takes a deep breath, and cups his hands around his mouth.

“LAN WANGJI!!”

When he drops his hands and looks out over the surface of the lake, everything is still, barely even a ripple disturbing the quiet twilight. He narrows his eyes.

“Lan Wangji, I know you’re there! Come out, wherever you’re hiding!”

“Uh, Jiang Cheng…”

He whips his head around. Behind him, Wei Wuxian is looking at him like he’s lost his mind, eyes wide. “What?” he barks.

His brother frowns and comes closer. “Are you okay? Do you feel feverish?” Jiang Cheng tsks and bats his hand away before it can land on his forehead. “Jiang Cheng! You’re being weirder than normal!”

“Just wait a second, idiot,” Jiang Cheng says impatiently. “He’ll come out, you’ll see.” Then, under his breath, “At least, he’d better, or I’ll kick his ass.”

Wei Wuxian throws his hands up in the air. “What are you talking about? There’s no one here!”

Jiang Cheng ignores him, turning around once more. “Lan Wangji! Show yourself, you scaly bastard! I don’t have all night!”

A light breeze rustles the tall stalks of the cattails. Nothing else happens.

“Coward,” Jiang Cheng mutters under his breath.

He didn’t want to do this, but it seems like the merman will leave him no choice.

“Well,” Jiang Cheng declares, making no effort to lower his voice, “sorry, Wei Wuxian, but it looks like I was wrong. Your little buddy Lan Zhan doesn’t want to see you after all.”

Wei Wuxian’s face freezes into an expression somewhere between shock and instinctual joy. “Lan… Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan is here?” It takes less than a second, however, for the expression to melt off his face and into a frown. He takes a step back. “Jiang Cheng, that’s not funny.”

Is that… hurt, in his voice? It throws Jiang Cheng for a loop. He can’t remember the last time he saw his brother appear so guarded, but he shakes it off, cutting straight to the point past the strangeness. “Wei Wuxian. Do I look like I’m joking?” At Wei Wuxian’s uncertain frown, he takes a step forward to bridge the distance and grabs his arm in a firm grip. He looks straight into his brother’s eyes as he asks again. “Look at me. Am I joking?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes bore into his, uncharacteristically serious, and Jiang Cheng can see the spark of cautious hope flare again. Jiang Cheng does his best to convey his message without words — I wouldn’t lie about this. Wei Wuxian’s hand reaches up to clutch at Jiang Cheng’s sleeve in return. His grip is heavy, his voice a little wild when he asks, “Jiang Cheng…?”

And then, he must find what he’s looking for in his eyes, because he rips himself away and stumbles toward the water.

“Lan Zhan…?”

Jiang Cheng looks on and holds his breath. As if doing the same, the breeze has died down, leaving the lake shore silent and the vegetation immobile. A solitary frog jumps into the lake, the accompanying plop ringing loudly in the sudden quiet.

How strange. Jiang Cheng expected Wei Wuxian to break into loud demands immediately — maybe even shouting. He expected for his brother to march into the shallow water, probably ruining his boots in the process, and yell across the lake for the elusive merman to come out already and explain his long absence. The scene before him now couldn’t be further from those imaginings: hesitant steps, a wavering voice calling out into the darkness descending over the lake.

“Lan Zhan, please… if you… if you really…” If possible, Wei Wuxian’s voice gets even quieter. “Are you really here? Lan Zhan?”

And then, between one heartbeat and the next, there he is before them. A pale shape, rising out of the water with barely any sound — close, closer than he’s ever come to Jiang Cheng when he was alone. The merman’s face betrays nothing on the surface, but Jiang Cheng has spent hours studying Lan Xichen’s expressions, and he thinks he can see a trace of trepidation behind that mask.

“...Wei Ying.”

“— and then they just… stared at each other for like, ten whole minutes! Who does that?! It was so awkward, gods, I just wanted to leave,” Jiang Cheng laments, throwing his arm over his eyes.

He’s sprawled on his back on the warm wood of a tiny jetty, hidden on the outskirts of Lotus Pier, one of their secondary meeting spots on account of the fact that no one ever uses it. And Lan Xichen is laughing at him. Again.

“But you didn’t,” the merman says, giggling into his hand.

“Well, how was I supposed to report back to you about this if I left? The whole thing was your idea in the first place,” the human grumbles.

Lan Xichen makes a half-amused, half-tender noise in the back of his throat. “Oh, of course. Thank you, A-Cheng, I appreciate it.”

“You better,” Jiang Cheng replies while his heart makes a completely unnecessary thud against his ribs at the merman’s tone. In an effort to distract himself, he sits up and starts tugging off his boots. “I deserve just compensation for what I was put through.”

A considering noise. “And what would A-Cheng like?”

A rustling sound off to the side has Jiang Cheng startling, and he pauses, squinting at a clump of reeds for a moment. Did someone find them?! He waits, but nothing happens. Shrugging, he finishes pulling off his boots and tosses them behind him with a thump. It’s with a satisfied sigh that he brings his focus back to the conversation, shimmying up to the edge of the small pier and submerging his feet into the cool water. “Hmmm… good question. I probably should’ve thought about that before I even agreed to do your snooping for you, huh? Let me think about it, I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Good,” Lan Xichen says decisively. “So, what happened then?”

“Huh?”

“After they stared at each other for ten minutes,” the merman explains patiently.

“Oh… well, eventually my brother became himself again and opened his big mouth. Impressive that he lasted this long, really.”

“And?? What did he say?”

What a gossipy little bastard. Jiang Cheng very valiantly pushes down a wave of delight and crushing fondness at the reminder that this dignified individual is also a confirmed busybody and mischief-maker, and tries to suppress his smirk as he answers. “He started whining about how your brother was rude to have kept him waiting all this time and tried to join him in the lake, at which point I decided enough was enough and went to drag him away before — …wait, did you hear that??”

“Hear what?”

“I swear something moved, over there by the big rock…” He cranes his neck toward the sound and glares daggers at the screen of vegetation next to said rock. Just in case. What if it’s Lan Wangji come to spy on them again, or worse, Wei Wuxian? Or… gods forbid, a stranger?

When he turns back to frown at Lan Xichen, the merman looks dubious. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“I swear! There was, like… a splash, or…” Jiang Cheng trails off.

“A splash.”

“Yes!”

“Hmmm. Very curious, indeed. A splash, you say? In the river?”

“All right, smartass, I get it.”

“No, no, we should absolutely investigate this! What if there’s a frog on the loose? Or a turtle?!”

“All right, I said! You insufferable, overgrown salmon, I can’t believe the nerve of you, nobody would believe me if I told —

There’s a sudden rustling, a squawk, a yell, a splash, a shape abruptly flying out of the brush — not necessarily in that order, but Jiang Cheng can’t be sure, because — his shocked exhale makes a trail of bubbles float up to the surface.

Wait. He’s…? Did he just…?!

He only just has time to see a flash of undulating silver before he’s hauled up by strong hands around his arms.

He breaks the surface and splutters for a moment, vaguely confused about the way he’s staying afloat until he blinks the water out of his eyes and the shapes in front of him resolve into one Lan Xichen. The merman is staring at him, clearly torn between worry and amusement.

Jiang Cheng scrubs his bangs out of his eyes. “What!! The hell!! Was that?!”

Lan Xichen’s lips press into a thin, wobbly line as he mutely points to the side. And there, on the bank, is a heron, fresh catch held proudly in its beak.

The bird casts a disdainful look at them as Jiang Cheng shouts obscenities at it, equally undisturbed by the weak flopping of the fish currently dying in its mouth. After a few condescending seconds, it takes off into the sky with a majestic flap of its wings and disappears behind the treeline.

Lan Xichen is trembling with repressed laughter. Jiang Cheng knows, because he can feel it where they’re pressed tightly together. He turns back to scowl at the merman.

“And what are you laughing at?”

Lan Xichen obviously takes the outburst as an invitation to stop holding back, immediately breaking into peals of laughter, head tilting back and eyes crinkling.

“You bastard, stop laughing right now —” Jiang Cheng splashes water at him, but the merman just ducks with a grin.

“I can’t believe you just —”

“I was startled!!”

“— right off of the pier, really, it’s impressive —”

“OKAY! You can shut up now!” And, suiting actions to words, he takes advantage of the fact that the merman’s arms are busy holding him afloat and slaps his hands onto Lan Xichen’s mouth.

Lan Xichen quiets down, but his eyes are sparkling with mirth above Jiang Cheng’s hands. Jiang Cheng is struck again by their color, a warm honey gold with even warmer flecks of brown. They’ve always been offensively pretty, but at this distance (that is, next to nothing), it’s even worse.

“Will you start cackling again if I take my hands away? Or will you be good?”

Lan Xichen lowers his eyes and looks at Jiang Cheng through his lashes. Jiang Cheng can feel his smile against his fingers. There’s something lurching in his stomach, and he’s not sure he likes it.

“Is that a yes? You’ll be good?”

The merman nods. Jiang Cheng takes his hands off his face and tries not to miss the contact.

“Okay. Great. You can let me go now.”

The arms around his waist tighten. Jiang Cheng has been trying very hard not to think about them for the past minute, but now, it’s getting difficult to ignore the bands of steel cradling him and holding him up like something precious. Lan Xichen’s skin is warm, only slightly cooler than a human’s; Jiang Cheng can feel it through his soaked tunic. His tail, where it occasionally brushes against his legs, is slightly cooler still. It feels foreign and strange against the bare skin of his ankles, but not unpleasant — the scales are smooth and soft, only lightly textured.

Lan Xichen smiles. “Do I have to? I only just got you where I want you.”

Jiang Cheng’s face heats reflexively. He barks a laugh.

“Are you mad that you’ve been plotting for months to get me into the river, and some stupid bird finally managed to do what you couldn’t? Aw, don’t worry, I’m sure you would have done it eventually.” He smirks, but Lan Xichen just hums, a strange look on his face.

“I suppose that’s true, you are in the river… a very nice development. But,” he drawls, “that’s not what I meant.”

Jiang Cheng looks at him, smirk freezing on his face.

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Lan Xichen tightens his embrace around Jiang Cheng’s waist again.

Jiang Cheng’s brain blanks. He doesn’t know where to put his hands — they’re itching to settle on Lan Xichen’s chest and push him away, but that would imply more touching, and no thank you. Terrible, terrible idea.

“Xichen,” he flounders.

“A-Cheng,” the merman murmurs. His gaze is so soft. It’s unbearable.

There’s water gently lapping at his skin and a breeze rustling through the trees, but Jiang Cheng can hear neither of them over the rushing of blood in his ears. Lan Xichen… is about to kiss him. He’s not moving any closer, hasn’t even glanced at Jiang Cheng’s lips, but Jiang Cheng knows, like a sixth sense, that he is only waiting for a signal, and once he gets it, Lan Xichen is definitely, definitely going to kiss him, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t think that’s — he’s — he can’t think at all, actually —

“LET’S SWIM!” is what comes out of his mouth in his panic.

Lan Xichen blinks, but doesn’t draw back.

“Let’s swim,” Jiang Cheng repeats, trying to infuse as much authority as he can into his voice. He has no idea where that came from. Unfortunately, now that it’s out there, he has no way to take it back.

A few more blinks, and the merman exhales, spell broken. He lowers his eyes (at this, Jiang Cheng finds that he can breathe a little easier, and curses his own weakness) and his lips tug to one side in a rueful smile for half a second before they settle back into a tranquil expression. “Okay, A-Cheng,” he says, voice low and so gentle.

Jiang Cheng squirms. This time, Lan Xichen unwinds his arms from around him, only keeping a light grip on his sides as if afraid Jiang Cheng might sink or float away otherwise.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable.”

At this, Jiang Cheng forcefully rips his thoughts away from what just happened (or didn’t happen, a disappointed voice corrects inside his brain before he silences it). Because that’s the other thing he had been trying very hard not to think about: the fact that he’s here, finally, in the water, with Lan Xichen — what he’s been dreading for months, for a reason he still can’t really explain, and it’s… fine. It feels fine. The river is cool around him, but pleasantly so, warmed by the lingering summer heat. This is where he feels at ease. He’s not exactly dressed for the occasion, of course, but… he’s having trouble remembering why this was supposed to be such a big deal.

He makes up his mind.

“Yes, all right, I’m sure,” he says with a put-upon sigh. “You win. I’ll swim with you.”

And probably expose himself to the merman’s judgement for his puny human prowess, but it’s worth it for the way Lan Xichen’s slightly uncertain face lights up at the declaration. Jiang Cheng is possibly getting second-degree burns from the close-range exposure to his smile.

“Let me just get rid of a few layers, first,” he hedges, and Lan Xichen finally retracts his hands from Jiang Cheng’s waist with only a flash of regret before he goes back to grinning. Jiang Cheng takes off his outer robes, tries his best to squeeze the excess water out of them, and lobs them onto the deck with a wet splat. He grimaces. These will never dry fast enough to let him go back home in anything approaching a dignified manner, but well, it can’t be helped now.

He swims back out to where the merman is waiting for him, practically vibrating in place.

“All right, Lan Xichen, show me what you’ve got.”

It takes two hours of frolicking in the river until the merman is satisfied. They race each other to the next bend several times (Lan Xichen having to swim the distance three times in the same time Jiang Cheng does it once, as a voluntary handicap, and still winning, the slippery bastard), get into a few splash fights, and Lan Xichen gets to show off his underwater acrobatics like the shameless eel he is.

By the time Jiang Cheng drags himself back up the bank to collapse in an exhausted heap, his muscles are sore, the entire mass of his hair is hanging around his face in dark tangles, and his inner robes have joined the outer ones in a pile of unrecognizable, waterlogged fabric.

Despite this, he can’t help the smile that’s been tugging at his cheeks for the past two hours, which is more impressive than it sounds, because his face is so unused to this kind of treatment that it’s starting to cramp up even worse than his much-abused arms. It’s hard work trying to keep up with an actual water creature, okay! He thinks he held up pretty well, all things considered!

And Lan Xichen seemed to be equally entertained through it all, though Jiang Cheng was too focused on him not to notice how he slipped once or twice into a more subdued mood.

He doesn’t have to wonder why. It’s clear enough, with the way the merman is barely making any effort anymore to hide the tender glances and lingering touches Jiang Cheng had been ignoring before today but can’t pretend to anymore.

He turns his face into the cool grassy slope and groans.

“Are you okay?” comes Lan Xichen’s worried voice.

“NO! You tired me out, you horrible, horrible creature!”

“Oh, no, poor A-Cheng,” the merman coos, swimming closer. “Do you need me to tow you back to your house?”

Jiang Cheng snorts a few blades of grass out of his face. “What, on your back? I didn’t bring a boat, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Lan Xichen hums a noise of assent. “That could be arranged.”

Jiang Cheng forces his brain not to picture himself draped over the merman’s back as they speed all the way back to the main compound, and grunts instead. “Show-off.”

After a few more seconds of self-pity, he finally gathers himself enough to get up from his sprawl and lumbers back to the dock where he left both his ruined clothes and his dignity. Lan Xichen watches with a sympathetic grimace as Jiang Cheng lifts the soggy disaster, sighs, and attempts to wring more water out of it.

It doesn’t really help.

“Well. Guess it’s either slinking in the shadows half-naked or walking home in this dripping mess for me,” the human says, resigned.

Lan Xichen makes a sympathetic noise. “You could always stay here until they get a little drier?”

Jiang Cheng looks toward where the sun is already starting its descent in the sky. Less than an hour, and it will disappear behind the treeline. “Yeah, that’s not going to work. There’s not enough daylight left.” He sighs. “I should be getting back anyway, I’ve been gone for a while.”

He turns back just in time to catch a flicker of genuine disappointment on the merman’s face before it vanishes behind an exaggerated pout.

“Don’t make that face,” Jiang Cheng scolds. “You’re a grown-ass adult, it’s unbecoming.”

“You’re the one who keeps implying things about my relative maturity,” Lan Xichen points out loftily. “I might as well act the part.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “What a convenient excuse.” With a wince, he shrugs his inner robe on again and starts tying up the laces. “Either way, I really do have to go. My parents don’t give a shit, but Wei Wuxian has been getting even more obnoxious lately, if you can believe it…”

He trails off as he tries to untangle the next layer from the dark purple mass of fabric in his hands. Lan Xichen makes a questioning sound from where he’s been floating on his back nearby, his tail swishing lazily.

“Eh, you know. Just being a general nuisance and a neverending source of unfunny jokes, except worse. Somehow, reuniting with your brother and learning about your existence has made him even more of a pain in my ass than he was before. Which is saying a lot,” he scowls. “Seriously. You would not believe how many times he’s come up to me, said ‘So this is why you’ve been acting fishy’ , then started cackling and almost collapsing on the floor from his own shitty joke.”

Lan Xichen makes an unimpressed face.

“Exactly!” the human agrees. “I mean, I know I keep calling you fish names and stuff, but the least he could do is be more imaginative about it.”

“Of course,” the merman nods seriously, hiding a smile. Jiang Cheng huffs.

“What? You don’t think my insults are better? At least I don’t use the same jokes over and over! And I only use them for nicknames and stuff, not as if I was delivering the pun of the century!”

Lan Xichen pauses. Looks up. Tilts his head. “Jiang Cheng… are you…” He visibly braces himself for something. “...fishing for compliments?”

“...”

Comically, the merman’s face immediately scrunches up in disgust as soon as the words leave his mouth. Jiang Cheng can’t blame him. He’s probably making the same face right now.

“No,” he declares emphatically. No. Please, never do that again.”

“Deal,” Lan Xichen agrees at once. “That felt wrong.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

They lapse into an embarrassed silence. Jiang Cheng puts his entire focus on getting dressed, if only to forget the last minute ever happened.

When he turns back, Lan Xichen is leaning onto one of the smooth rocks jutting out near the bank, watching him.

When one pictures that in their mind, a mer leaning on a rock, they probably imagine an exotic creature striking a seductive pose, long lines of powerful muscle and glittering scales, perhaps an enchanting song flowing out of a lovely mouth.

This is not that. This is a big man-baby with a pout on his face and his hair stuck to his skin haphazardly, leaning his elbows on the rock and supporting his chin in both hands like a sulky child.

It’s ridiculous. Somehow, it still makes Jiang Cheng feel warm.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? And please, for the love of all the gods, don’t try to come up with any more puns.”

Lan Xichen smiles. “I promise.”

The tilt of his lips is a little amused, a lot indulgent, and more fond than Jiang Cheng knows how to handle. 

“Okay. Good. I’m going, then.”

“Mm. Until next time, A-Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng… still doesn’t move. His feet are strangely heavy, seemingly disinclined to take a single step away from the pier.

The merman tilts his head where it’s cradled between his palms. “What is it? Something wrong?”

“...No,” Jiang Cheng scowls, and finally, with effort, manages to turn on his heel and stalk away from the edge.

Liar, liar, liar, chants a voice in his mind. It definitely feels wrong to walk away. Unfinished.

He scowls harder and keeps walking.

It’s tiny, barely a whisper of sound carried on the wind, but he hears it — a very quiet sigh.

Jiang Cheng stops so fast he almost trips over his own feet.

…Fuck it.

He whips right back around and strides back toward the end of the little pier. He doesn’t make any effort to be quiet, and every step hits the wooden dock with his determination. Alarmed, Lan Xichen lifts his head from where it was laying on his crossed arms, still draped over that damned boulder. Which is much too far away.

“Come here,” Jiang Cheng barks at him before he can even get a single word out.

Lan Xichen’s eyes are wide. “Jiang Cheng —”

“Come. Here. Now,” the human hisses, voice dangerous.

He watches like a hawk as the merman hesitantly swims closer, a question in his eyes. When he reaches the edge of the pier, Jiang Cheng drops to his knees with a loud thunk neither of them pay attention to, never breaking eye contact.

“You know,” Lan Xichen starts, obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere, “this is very reminiscent of that time you said the exact same thing, and then grabbed me and felt me up.” He grins, like he can’t wait for Jiang Cheng to reject the blatant bait and start spluttering. “Are you going to feel me up, A-Cheng?”

Haven’t decided yet, Jiang Cheng doesn’t say. Instead, he ignores the taunt and leans forward on his hands, further, and further, getting a rush of vicious joy when Lan Xichen’s smile starts to slip.

“Jiang Cheng?”

The human doesn’t answer, only extends a hand and hooks two fingers under the merman’s necklace and pulls.

It’s not nearly hard enough to make the string snap, but Lan Xichen scrambles to follow anyway. The movement brings him far enough out of the water that he has to support himself on the wooden planks of the pier, water sloshing around his chest. His eyes are still wide, but at least he’s stopped spouting nonsense.

Actually, looking at him, Jiang Cheng is pretty sure he’s not even breathing, but he can’t blame him — he’s not 100% positive he’s doing any better right now, but in his defense, he’s never been this close to anyone else’s face before, and if he thought it was bad earlier when Lan Xichen was holding him, this is much, much, much worse. The merman’s face is tilted up toward him, so close that he’s going a little cross-eyed, lips parted, waiting. Jiang Cheng can see the wet clumps of his lashes, the flecks in his irises, the dull shine of the ribbon adorning his forehead.

“What,” Jiang Cheng asks, not quite as steady as he was going for, “got nothing to say anymore?”

Lan Xichen shakes his head, almost imperceptibly.

His gaze is expectant, eager — the most intense Jiang Cheng has ever seen it.

“Good,” he pronounces, wavers for the barest moment, and crosses the final inch before he can actually chicken out.

Lan Xichen’s lips are a little cool, but very soft, and Jiang Cheng is immediately addicted to the sensation. Honestly, he’s so relieved that his aim wasn’t completely off that he just stays there, unmoving, for what is probably too long before doing anything.

He only realizes that he closed his eyes when he opens them again and sees Lan Xichen’s own eyes are closed, too. They flutter open slowly when Jiang Cheng lets their lips part — but only a fraction, a sliver of gold flashing under lowered lashes, before Lan Xichen reaches up with one hand to tangle in Jiang Cheng’s matted hair, mutters a barely-audible “No,” and surges up against him again.

Under normal circumstances, Jiang Cheng would undoubtedly protest being held in place, but he’s too distracted by the way the merman’s lips are warming under his and fitting them both together so perfectly.

So distracted, in fact, that it takes him a moment to register how gravity seems to be shifting, but he manages to catch himself just in time before he pitches headfirst into the river.

“Xichen,” he warns.

“Mm?” the merman hums questioningly, like he hasn’t been trying to pull Jiang Cheng further and further down on purpose, that greedy little sea minx.

“Don’t push your luck,” he mutters, and if the impish grin he gets in return is nothing new, it’s an entirely novel experience to feel it grow against his own lips.

“Mm,” Lan Xichen says again, and that’s new, too. Does a little kissing make him go non-verbal? Interesting. Jiang Cheng will have to test that theory. Thoroughly. For science.

He brushes their lips together again, with more confidence, before he asks, “Cat got your tongue? Finally? If I’d known that was all it took...”

He doesn’t recognize the trap he just walked right into before the merman draws back just enough to — flick his tongue against the corner of his mouth.

“No,” Lan Xichen says, smug.

Jiang Cheng stares at him. “You… You — You’re so fucking — Why are you like this??” he demands, before a terrible realization dawns on him. “Oh, gods… You’re going to be even worse after this, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” Lan Xichen agrees, looking so incandescently happy Jiang Cheng can’t even pretend to muster the willpower to be mad about it.

Still: appearances must be maintained. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I,” Jiang Cheng ponders.

“No, you’re not,” Lan Xichen says, before dragging him closer with a smile.

Oh well, Jiang Cheng thinks with an internal shrug before his brain shuts down again, I tried.

Needless to say, he doesn’t make it back home before sundown.