Work Text:
Jiang Cheng paces across the deck, arms crossed and scowl fixed firmly in place. Occasionally, he pauses to glare at the assembled junior disciples. The quartet stands at sharp attention, and Jiang Cheng resumes pacing.
“A-Cheng, I think—“
“Not now, Huaisang.” Jiang Cheng turns his glare on his husband.
Huaisang holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. He leans back in the lawn chair and crosses his legs. “Carry on, then.”
“I...I am.” Jiang Cheng glares again for good measure, even though Huaisang has long developed immunity to it. He turns back to the juniors, who have not yet developed full immunity. “You four.” He points at them. “You have so much explaining to do.”
Lan Sizhui takes a step forward. “Uncle Cheng, if I may?”
“Not you.”
Sizhui’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, but he steps back.
He stops in front of the tallest of the boys, who looks down at his feet.
“Zizhen.”
“Sir?” he mumbles, not looking up.
“Tell me.”
“Sir?” he says again, looking at Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng gestures to the burnt square of concrete near the barbecue. “How did my patio end up scorched?”
“Ah.” Zizhen jams his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “It was...science?”
“Science?”
“Science.” He looks up to meet Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Mr. Nie was teaching us about exothermic reactions, and Mr. Lan encourages independent study, and—“
“Hold up, hold up.” Jiang Cheng rubs his eyes. “Mr. Nie and Mr. Lan? As in—“
“Uncle Mingjue and Uncle Xichen,” Jin Ling pipes up. “Yes.”
Jiang Cheng whirls around when he’s startled by the sound of something that sounds like a dog whose tail has been stepped on. Huaisang is biting down on his knuckle. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and turns back to the juniors.
“Your uncles encouraged this wanton destruction of property?”
“No, Uncle Cheng,” Sizhui says. “That is our fault.” He elbows Jingyi. “Someone got distracted and poured out too much carbon disulfide.”
Jiang Cheng sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I tried to tell you that I couldn’t read Mr. Nie’s handwriting!” Jingyi exclaims. “I told you we should google it first!”
“Well, I tried to—“ Zizhen breaks in, but Jiang Cheng puts his fingers in his mouth and silences them with a piercing whistle.
“That’s so cool!” Jingyi says. “Can you teach me how to do that, Uncle Cheng?”
“What, no! Later!” Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, science experiment gone awry. Fine.” He looks at the boys. “But, why the chanting?” He glares at Huaisang, who is now doubled over laughing.
“Oh,” Zizhen says, “that was just for fun. We thought it would make the video more fun.”
“Video?”
“Yeah! When we put it on YouTube!”
Jiang Cheng sighs and shakes his head. “Alright.”
“Uncle?” Sizhui’s voice is tentative, and he actually raises his hand.
“Yes, Sizhui?”
“Um, could you tell us what our punishment is?”
“Sizhui!” The other boys turn on him. Jin Ling looks positively murderous.
“What do you think your punishment should be?” Jiang Cheng asks.
The boys look at each other, and Zizhen steps forward again. “We can rebuild your patio, Mr. Jiang.”
“Oh, can you?”
“I’m sure there’s something on YouTube,” Jin Ling says, with all the authority that the fourteen-year-old scion of the Jins can manage.
“You won’t just hire someone?” Jiang Cheng snarks before he can stop himself.
“No, Uncle,” Sizhui says. “We will do the work to make up for our damage.”
Jiang Cheng sighs again. “You’re not ...totally responsible,” he says. He takes his phone out of his pocket. “You will replace my patio, but you’re going to have help.”
“Sir?”
“Zizhen, we have had this conversation. You can call me Uncle. It’s fine.”
“Go on,” Huaisang says. “Go play, or do something, whatever you had planned,” he says, waving the children away.
“Si- Uncle?” Zizhen and the boys look to Jiang Cheng.
“Go on,” Jiang Cheng says. “It’ll take a few days to get all the materials to replace the patio. Oh, wait!” He grins. “I still think a little punishment is in order today.”
“You had to say something,” Jingyi mutters to Sizhui.
“A Lan accepts the responsibility for their actions,” Sizhui says primly, although he does look concerned.
“Relax,” Jiang Cheng says. “It’s not that bad. We just got a batch of spirit nets and some new talisman paper. They need to be properly inventoried. You have until dinner.” When the boys gape at him, he waves a hand. “Go!”
Jiang Cheng joins Huaisang on the lawn as the boys scurry. He pokes at Huaisang until he shifts aside and makes room for him in the lawn chair. Huaisang wraps an arm around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and lets Jiang Cheng rest his head against the crook of his neck.
“How is it,” Jiang Cheng asks as Huaisang strokes his arm, “that we, who have very consciously decided not to become parents, have somehow acquired eight children?”
“Eight?”
“Those four, Wei Ying and Wangji, and now, apparently, your brother and Xichen.”
Huaisang laughs. “Yeah, I am surprised it’s not Wei Wuxian responsible for this.”
“Yeah, same.” He snuggles against Huaisang. “I’m really annoyed about the patio, though.”
“Eh, Mingjue will fix it. He’s needed a project for a while now. Oh, maybe we can get him to build a fire pit!”
“Yes! And that outdoor pizza oven we’ve always wanted!”
“Careful there, Icarus. They just scorched the pavement.”
“And set a bad example!” Jiang Cheng smiles. “Alright, we’ll start small.”
“That’s my boy.”