Chapter Text
Jiāng Chéng, despite claims otherwise, is not in a mood. It has been a day, this he can admit. But he is not, decidedly, in a mood.
He’d been twenty minutes late to work, after a series of unfortunate events. Niè Huáisāng had tossed and turned all night, even after having gone to bed at an entirely reasonable hour. Chairman Meow, (Wèi Wúxiàn’s cat, Jiāng Chéng would have come up with something better,) the little shit, had started meowing promptly at five like she’d done every day this month. (Jiāng Chéng suspected Lán Wàngjī had fed her promptly after waking, per Wèi Wúxiàn’s instructions, while he was pet sitting when they’d all gone to Lotus Pier for a week. He didn’t blame Lán Wàngjī for this, but rather Wèi Wúxiàn, because he should have put down better instructions or remembered that Lán’s wake up at the asscrack of dawn.)
And so, he was understandably groggy when his alarm went off this morning, slower to react, and Niè Huáisāng had whined and stuffed his head under the pillow before turning off Jiāng Chéng’s alarm himself. He’d reached over and snagged Niè Huáisāng, dragging him across the sheets, smiling when his boyfriend curled himself around Jiāng Chéng and promptly went back to sleep. Jiāng Chéng had also fallen back asleep. Sue him. His boyfriend was cute as shit, cats were assholes, and he had been tired.
He is tired.
But then Wèi Wúxiàn had been the one to wake him up this morning, which meant that not only did Jiāng Chéng have to listen to his smug bragging, he’d had to shower after him, so there was no hot water left. Wèi Wúxiàn or Niè Huáisāng had moved his clothes from the washer to the dryer but had failed to turn it on, so his clothes had still been damp and starting to smell a little mildewy. They were both so lazy there was an equal chance that it could have been either one of them. He’d opened the washing machine, to find the clothes dry, and noted that the laundry soap swirled on top of the clothes was also dry and caked over the fabric. There was lots of red. Wèi Wúxiàn . He’d dropped the lid with a clang and went to dig through his closet.
Chairman Meow had thrown up in his favorite dress shoes. The only pair of clean trousers he had were too short, and the shirt was an ugly burnt orange affair that Niè Míngjué had bought for him for his last birthday, that he’d successfully managed to avoid wearing, until now. At least Niè Huáisāng wasn’t awake to see this travesty. (Jiāng Chéng knew, that had anyone else bought this crime against clothing, Niè Huáisāng wouldn’t hesitate to absolutely destroy the shirt with visceral criticism, but since Dà-gē went through the effort to buy it, he’d coo instead.)
Wèi Wúxiàn stole half his breakfast, the cheeky little bitch, but Jiāng Chéng also knew that he wouldn’t have eaten until dinner if he didn’t allow it. But then the car wouldn’t start, and he’d had to fly to work. He hadn’t been late in the three years he’d worked for The Order of the Bright Brotherhood, (yes, really,) but he still received an absolute flaying from his boss. The rest of his day didn’t get any better, with software glitches, late proposals, and his secretary spilling her coffee on his lap. Miánmián had ribbed him for the shirt literally all day, and when he’d glared, she’d had the audacity to tell him he was in one of his moods.
He felt he’d handled this with grace. He hadn’t yelled, not once, and was happy to go home and report to Niè Huáisāng and receive his compensation of head pats for ‘not being a jerkface.’ But when he got home, the apartment was empty. When he pulled out his phone, he realized he had thirty texts. His phone had been on silent, all day. Half were from Wèi Wúxiàn being his annoying self, he had two from his sister, one from Lán Xīchén, and the rest were from Niè Huáisāng.
9:34 am
Good morning!
I still feel like garbage. Do you think Dà-gē would let me stay home?
… What am I saying. I guess I should get ready.
10:40 am
Babe?
10:50 am
Your car is still here. Were you murdered? Am I a widow?
11:35 am
I made it to work! I was only thirty minutes late. I don’t know why Dà-gē is so upset. He should just be happy that I’m here at all!
12:00 pm
Hellloooo?
<insert cat gif>
12:47 pm
… Did you ever put that life insurance policy in place? Who will take care of my needs?
1:02 pm
I WILL make Wúxiàn perform a seance. You didn’t even tell me that you loved me!
2:15 pm
Dà-gē feels bad for making me go to work, so he took me to his apartment.
2:49 pm
Hey. Hey. I love you! Please don’t be dead.
The text from Lán Xīchén was self-explanatory.
3:36 pm
<picture attachment: Huáisāng in a blanket fort, passed the fuck out>
Jiāng Chéng smiles at his phone. Niè Huáisāng was so ridiculous. He was perfect.
5:45 pm
Hey Lán Xīchén, is he awake?
5:47 pm
Huáisāng is still out like a light. I think we may keep him for the night.
5:53 pm
Fine. You can have him. Why don’t you keep him? See if I care.
It’s not what he means. What he means is ‘Tell him I miss him. Tell him I love him. Tell him my life isn’t complete without him.’ He knows that Niè Huáisāng knows he loves him. He knows the others know too. What he doesn’t know, is why he can’t fucking tell him. He’s sure that Lán Xīchén hears what he means to say anyway.
6:02 pm
I will have him call you, when he wakes up. Goodnight Wǎnyín.
He huffs, looking at his phone before peering in the fridge. He replies to his sister as he pulls out the tub, that yes, he sees the soup she left for them. After he has a bowl heating in the microwave, he replied to her second message, that yes, they have joss paper ready and prepared for Qīngmíng Festival.
Glaring out at the empty apartment, he considers texting his brother, before tossing his phone on the counter. At least he would have soup to keep him company.
So yes, Jiāng Chéng had had a trying day. But he wasn’t in any type of mood. Except for maybe a bit lonely, because Niè Huáisāng wasn’t here. But a moment after stepping into the bathroom, he is most certainly in a mood, because laying out on the countertop are three pregnancy tests, all of them positive.
“Fuck.”
