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Chapter Text

Three weeks in, Wei Wuxian was doing great at the whole “college” thing. He’d scraped through high school by the skin of his teeth (thanks to a combination of boredom, an attraction to chaos, and a general disdain for authority). But, college? College was where he belonged.

He got to set his own schedule; no more would there be punishments for waking up after noon, and his dorm was a 24-7 hub of activity. There were fun and interesting people to meet everywhere, always a party or an event to join. He’d already joined the cheerleading team (“To broaden my social experience,” he’d declared loftily on the phone to his uncle Jiang. “At least it makes good use of your loud mouth,” Jiang Cheng had grumbled from the other side of their room.) So far he’d even made it to class at least forty percent of the time.

Yes, life was going great. It was all a game, and Wei Wuxian was winning. 

That is, until the day he met Meng Yao.  

While he was being fitted for his cheerleading uniform, Yu Jinzhu, the cheer captain, waved a pink envelope in front of his face. “Somebody left this for you in the club mailbox.”

“Ooooh,” he chirped. “Senior Yu, are you trying to flirt with me? You don’t have to be so underhanded about it.”

She ripped the envelope out of his grasp. “Just the messenger, but if you don’t want it...”

He grabbed for the envelope and she relented. “Too bad,” he said. “I do like older women.” This earned him a finger-flick to the forehead, to which he over-dramatically pouted, and Yu Jinzhu grinned.

“I’m still your mentor group senior, remember. By the way, we have a meet-and-greet next Thursday. Be there, or you’re dead to me.”

“Of course,” he murmured, but his attention was already focused on the envelope. A card—handwritten—so old fashioned. Whoever this was could have just DM’d him or even tracked down his phone number—enough people around campus already had it—but that they’d gone this route showed a unique dedication. Interesting.

Meet me by the bike rack after the club meeting. I want to tell you something!

There were hearts drawn in an intricate border around the card, and for a second Wei Wuxian wondered if he’d been transported from college back to the second grade, but flattery, and curiosity, won out, and after his fitting was over, he dutifully tramped down to the bike rack. There was a girl facing away from him talking on the phone: short, a little round, but he wasn’t going to make any judgements just based on the view from behind. He pulled on the charm, sidled up beside her. “So, you had something to tell me?”

“Sorry, what?” She half-turned to face him.

He’d miscalculated how close to stand, and her long hair flicked in his face. Startled, he pulled back, then cleared his throat, trying to collect himself. “I—uh—you wrote me this card?”

She scowled, her nose doing this totally adorable scrunch. “No, that’s not from me. Sorry.” And just like that, before he could even try to recapture his lost charm, she turned around and left.

Wei Wuxian felt a little wounded. He straightened, tugging at his shirt. It probably had been her who wrote the card, he reasoned. Maybe she got shy when confronted with him face-to-face. Oh well; nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Then someone tapped his shoulder.

Wei Wuxian turned to find dimples and lots of very bright, very white teeth. “Hi, Wei Ying! Can I call you Wei Ying?”

“I—uh—”

The dimples and Hollywood-bright teeth belonged to a guy. Short, slight, and thrusting a tin covered in gold and white flowers in Wei Wuxian’s general direction.

“Do I know you?”

“Not yet, but I hope you will! I’m Meng Yao. I’ve seen you around campus a lot and I really wanted to meet you. Here, I made these for you.”

Startled, Wei Wuxian fumbled with the tin, just barely managing not to drop it. “You made these for me?”

“Sure did! I know lots of people are probably trying to get your attention, so I wanted to stand out! I really like you, Wei Ying!”

Jeez, did this guy only talk in exclamation marks? Wei Wuxian blinked, trying to gather his rapidly unspooling thoughts. “Um…thank you? I mean, that’s really nice, but I don’t—I’m not—”

“Oh, don’t say anything.” With no respect for personal space, the guy lightly patted Wei Wuxian’s arm, smoothing down his sleeve. “I wanted to have the perfect memory of our perfect first meeting, and now I do! I can’t wait to hang out with you again. See you around, Wei Ying!”

“But I’m not—but, we’re not—”

He trailed off as the weird guy scampered away, realized that he was still holding the tin. He cracked the lid; shortbread cookies, shaped like fancy flowers. Huh. What had just happened? Wei Wuxian sighed, and decided that this was a problem for the Chic Gang.

*

The Chic Gang, in Wei Wuxian’s humble opinion, was an exemplar of the platonic ideal of male friendship. Four guys who on their own couldn’t be more different, and honestly somewhat lacking, but when they came together, everything clicked into place, making for the best friend group in the history of friend groups.

Wei Wuxian was the leader, of course. Real protagonist material. He was the hottest, the most charming, the one who led everyone in his wake. It was a small burden to bear. Really, he knew he was much better off with his three best friends than without.

Next in importance, of course, came Jiang Cheng, his (adopted) brother. (Wei Wuxian was the adopted one, if one were to get technical.). Really, Jiang Cheng should still be in high school, but he was so annoyingly competitive that he’d studied relentlessly to skip ninth grade. At least it had given Wei Wuxian a few years to get used to the idea of sharing classes with him. And now they shared a dorm room, so it was almost like they’d barely left home at all.

Nie Huaisang had been Wei Wuxian’s friend since Wei Wuxian caught him spiking the punch at their seventh-grade formal dance. He was the god of social media, and he knew absolutely everything there was to know about everyone.

And finally, there was Wen Ning. Sometimes people didn’t get why Wei Wuxian was friends with Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian didn’t bother with those people. Wen Ning was the best, sweetest, most genuine guy, with a wicked humor streak, and if other people couldn’t see it, that was their loss. Without Wen Ning, the Chic Gang would have been like a chair missing a leg. He was essential.  All of them were.

Except now, they had all betrayed him. For some weird stranger’s cookies, no less.

“I mean, girls have crushes on you all the time,” Wen Ning was saying around a mouthful of shortbread. “What’s so wrong with it being a guy? There’s no rule you have to like him back.”

“These are really good, too,” Nie Huaisang added.

“I don’t care if they’re good,” Wei Wuxian grumbled, chin in hand. “Anyway, the problem isn’t that he’s a guy. The problem is he was weird, and made me very uncomfortable.”

“You giant baby,” Jiang Cheng scolded. “I say keep him around for a while, at least for the cookies.”

“Stop talking about the cookies! And stop eating them.” Wei Wuxian grabbed for the tin, slamming the lid back on and pulling it close to his chest. “They’re mine.”

“Meng Yao is intense, but I’m sure we can find some way to deal with him,” Nie Huaisang said.

Wei Wuxian stared at him. The others did, too, though the effect was slightly marred by crumbs falling from their lips.

“What?” Nie Huaisang quailed under their collective gaze.

“You know him?” Wei Wuxian asked. “When were you planning on sharing?”

“I just did.” He shuddered. “Ugh. Meng Yao. I went to summer camp with him for, like, ten years. Always buttering up to the councilors to get out of physical activities. And he talks in his sleep.”

“Did he ever say anything that can help me get rid of him?”

Nie Huaisang snorted. “Look, just…don’t engage. He’s kind of a creep, but if you ignore him something else will grab his attention eventually and he’ll leave you alone.”

“And until then,” Jiang Cheng said, wrestling the tin back from his brother’s hands, “Milk this baked goods situation for all it’s worth. I wonder if he makes cakes?”

Wei Wuxian tried to stick to the advice to do nothing…but it just wasn’t working. Meng Yao showed up in front of his faculty when he was leaving classes. He cornered Wei Wuxian in the cafeteria and the followed him to his favorite coffee shop. He even started showing up in front of the dorm on his scooter in the morning, wanting to give Wei Wuxian rides. Always with those dimples and that smile and that annoying “Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Yiiiiiiiiiiiing.”

He couldn’t take it. It had been a week—one week—and Wei Wuxian was already pondering dropping out of school, faking his own death, and escaping the country.

“You have to come up with a way for me to get rid of him,” he told his friends as they sprawled out around his and Jiang Cheng’s room. “I’m getting desperate.”

“Get a girlfriend,” Nie Huaisang said. “He’ll lose interest.”

Wei Wuxian scoffed, head banging back against the headboard. “No one hot enough is single right now.”

“Oh my god, you are the worst,” Jiang Cheng said. “No one is hot enough for you? Seriously?”

“Hey, I have a reputation to uphold! Besides, if I show up with someone who’s not on my level, he’s not going to believe it’s real.”

“Get a fake girlfriend, then,” Wen Ning put in.

“Pfft, a fake—wait a sec. That could work.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Great. A scheme.”

“Think about it, though!” Wei Wuxian was warming up to this idea. “If I can convince one of my exes to hang out with me, just for a bit, he’ll see I’m not interested, and I also won’t have to worry about hurting the feelings of some girl who thinks I really want to date her. Great idea, Wen Ning!”

Wen Ning blushed. “Thanks.”

“Call your sister.”

His face fell. “Wh—wh—no?”

“I can convince her. I know it. She’s mercenary.”

“She has a new girlfriend!”

Wei Wuxian waved him off. “This is a business transaction.”

“She blocked your number and all of your social media accounts!”

“That’s why I need you to call her, of course.”

For the first time in a week, he felt a smile unfurl across his face. This was going to work.               

*

Wei Wuxian had only been at the coffee shop for five minutes when Wen Qing slammed herself down in the seat across from him, arms folded threateningly over her chest. God, she was hot when she was scary. It must have been a minor miracle that ever made her look twice at him, even if they had only dated for five weeks and that had been, as she repeatedly informed him, against her better judgement.

“This had better be good, Wei Wuxian. And make it fast; my girlfriend is waiting across the street if you think of trying anything funny.”

“I’m not trying anything. I don’t want to get back together.”

“Good. Because, as we’ve already established, I’m with someone.”

“I just need Meng Yao to think we’re together.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on! Just come to one or two public events with me for old times’ sake.”

“Did you not hear a word I just said? I have a girlfriend.”

“I’m sure you can explain it to her in a very rational way. Or bring her along! We can tell Meng Yao we’re experimenting with polyamory.”

Her left eyebrow rose precipitously. “And give him new ideas? No thank you.”

“Name your price.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “A Chanel bag.”

Wei Wuxian laughed for a full minute, so hard that his stomach hurt, until her stone-faced look made him realize that she was serious. The laugh trailed off awkwardly, and he cleared his throat. “Name a price I can pay.”

A long beat of silence. She was going to make him wait for it. Finally, she looked out the window, then back to him. “Fine. One art history paper per date. 3000 words at least.”

“How shockingly unethical of you.”

“Ethics are for the weak. If I’m going to be a renowned heart surgeon, I need to pass my humanities requirements. Or do you not want me on board for your little scheme?”

“No, no,” he grabbed her sleeve as she was rising to go. “No, no, I do. One paper per date? I can totally do that. Stay.”

*

Wei Wuxian waited in front of the courtyard where the freshman mixer was being held. He wasn’t nervous, just…there were a lot of moving parts to this plan, and he wanted to make sure to keep everything straight. He’d taken great care to dress—casual, but devastatingly fashionable, and his hair looked super sexy, too—and now stood under a streetlamp that gave great light, kicking his heel against the pavement. Just chilling, not a care in the world, just—

“Wei Ying! You waited for me?  So sweet!”

Ah. It began.

Meng Yao had been going in for a hug—the guy had no respect for personal boundaries at all—but Wei Wuxian deftly sidestepped him. “Babe, you made it!”

Wen Qing—all red dress and red nails and red lips—smiled like a viper and leaned up to buss him on the cheek. “Sorry I’m so late.”

Tutting, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and tried to act as if he’d just now noticed Meng Yao, who was sputtering. “Oh, hi Meng Yao. This is my date. My girlfriend.”

Meng Yao was trying to say something, but Wei Wuxian knew he couldn’t let him get a word in. “So, see, I’m really just not interested. I totally get why you like me—appreciate it, even!—but I’m not the one for you and you’re not the one for me, so let’s just….not…”

He trailed off as Meng Yao burst into tears. Wen Qing poked him in the side with a sharp fingernail. “What the hell, A-Xian, that was mean.”

“Wh—you’re crying?”

“Why would you lie like that?” Meng Yao wailed.

“I’m not lying. This is my girlfriend, Wen Qing.”

Meng Yao stomped his foot down petulantly. “She’s dating a senior from my faculty; I see them being all lovey-dovey every day. I just saw them this afternoon!”

“Ok,” Wen Qing drawled, awkwardly. “Well, I think that’s my cue to leave. I’ll let you off with 2500 words, A-Xian. See ya.”

Wei Wuxian hissed after her, but she slipped away, and then he was left with a crying stalker on his hands. He wrung his hands. “Um. Meng Yao. That is—I didn’t mean to—”

“You’d really rather fake a relationship than be around me? Am I that bad?”

“It’s not that. But I told you, I don’t like guys.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, Meng Yao’s head snapped up. The tears were gone, like he’d never cried at all. “That’s fine, then.”

“It is? Wait, what?”

Meng Yao grabbed the crook of his elbow and started dragging him towards the mixer. “Yeah, it’s totally fine. We just have to spend more time together until I can change your mind!”

Once caught, Wei Wuxian could not get away. Meng Yao insisted they just had to go to the photobooth for pictures, then buy food, then play games at every club booth. The few times Wei Wuxian caught sight of one of his friends he tried to signal panic with his eyes, but no one seemed to catch on.

Eventually Meng Yao tired of running around the mixer and went to buy drinks. Before Wei Wuxian could manage to sneak off, he was back—how was he so fast?—thrusting a cold cup into his hands. “Let’s go see the band. It’s one of Nie Mingjue’s groups, I’ve heard they’re pretty good.”

Defeated, he let Meng Yao drag him over to the stage where a group of musicians were introducing themselves to the crowd. A line of girls at the front were screaming—kind of excessive for a college band, but who was Wei Wuxian to judge? Then a boy with a guitar came on stage and their screams raised to a fever pitch.

Ok, he could see it. Wei Wuxian took a sip of the cold drink, pretending to be very interested in the band so that maybe Meng Yao would stop pulling at him for three seconds. The guitarist definitely deserved some screams, even if it was over the top. He was probably almost as hot as Wei Wuxian, himself. Tall and lean, with a standoffish rockstar air.

Had it just gotten really hot out? Hmm. Wei Wuxian took another sip.

The guitarist leaned towards his mic as the screaming died down. “Look, I’m just filling in. Allow me to not introduce myself.”

And that started the screams all over again.

Wei Wuxian snorted. What an arrogant piece of—oh. He felt weird.

He felt like his heartbeat had slowed to a crawl. He was suddenly very tired, and the colored stage lights were bleeding into each other in front of his eyes. Limbs heavy, he lolled against Meng Yao’s shoulder. The kid must be stronger than he looked. How strange…then, he must have already been asleep, because it had to be only in a dream that some two-bit college jam band would start playing one of his favorite songs.

*

Wei Wuxian woke with a splitting headache to discover that he was laid out in bed, his friends hovering around him. Well, Huaisang and A-Ning were hovering; Jiang Cheng was over on his own bed, reading an econ textbook.

He struggled to sit up. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“You are really lucky Jiang Cheng saw you pass out,” Wen Ning said. “Otherwise, you’d probably be waking up in Meng Yao’s arms right now. How much did you drink?”

“Nothing! Just—wait, did that little shit drug me?”

Jiang Cheng slammed the textbook shut. “Ok, that’s it. I’m going to go kick his ass.”

“No, no, no, wait.” Wei Wuxian waved his brother down. God, his head hurt. “Don’t. I’m okay, nothing happened.”

“I know you’re not sitting there excusing the stalker who potentially drugged you. We have to at least report this.”

“We report it and it becomes a whole big thing.” Wei Wuxian winced, rubbed at his temple. “I can handle this. I swear.”

“Yes, because the fake girlfriend plan went so well.”

“Ah…as to that,” Nie Huaisang said. “I was thinking. If you really want to get rid of Meng Yao, maybe it’s time to level up.”

“Level up?” Wen Ning asked.

Nie Huaisang spread his hands out as if making a dramatic presentation. “Fake boyfriend.”

Wei Wuxian groaned. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. If he sees you with a guy, then he’ll know for sure it’s not that you don’t like guys, it’s that you don’t like him. And this will all blow over.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. “Look. You all know I’m not opposed to guys—theoretically.”

“We know,” Jiang Cheng said, with an eyeroll.

“But,” Wei Wuxian shot his brother a dirty look, “just for hookups. Not a real relationship.”

“Good thing it will be a fake relationship, then,” Wen Ning said.

“Not helping, Wen Ning. Anyway, who would even agree to something like this?”

“Ah, so glad you asked, I’ve got the perfect candidate,” Nie Huaisang said. He pulled up a video on his phone: the band performing last night at the freshman mixer.  

Wei Wuxian scowled. “It’s not your brother, is it?”

Nie Huaisang ripped the phone out of his hand. “No, it’s not my brother, for fuck’s sake. The guitarist. Lan Zhan, courtesy Lan Wangji. He’s perfect.”

“That…could actually work,” Wen Ning said.

Wei Wuxian frowned. “Huh? You know who he is?”

“Of course I do. You don’t? Lan Wangji is the hottest thing on this campus.”

“Wh—hotter than me?”

Jiang Cheng cackled. Nie Huaisang sympathetically patted Wei Wuxian’s knee. “Way hotter. Sorry.”

“Wait, is he the one with the fanclub?” Jiang Cheng asked.

“Fanclub?” Wei Wuxian squeaked, as Nie Huaisang nodded.

“God, those girls are annoying,” Jiang Cheng muttered. “Have you really not seen them, Wei Wuxian? They actually run around campus wearing armbands that say Team Lan Wangji’s Wives. Some of them carry signs with his name on them. It’s so creepy. I bet Meng Yao learned everything he knows from them.”

“I guess I’ve been distracted.”  It seemed kind of baffling that anyone could be so popular that they had their own school fanclub. But at least he would fit Wei Wuxian’s reputation. If you have to fake it, fake it with the best. Wei Wuxian pushed aside the covers and stumbled out of bed. “Well, let’s go find him, then.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nie Huaisang grabbed at his arm. “We need to do recon first. Find the right approach.”

Deep breath. Do not throttle one third of your best friends.

“Fine. You’re loving this, aren’t you? Well? Do your thing.”

Nie Huaisang cracked his knuckles, and got down to work.

*

Lan Wangji was a sophomore, a poly-sci major, a member of the music club (which Nie Huaisang knew because his brother was the club president), and…that was all they could find, from official channels. The kid wasn’t anywhere. He had no social media: no Facebook, no Instagram, not even TikTok. “Jeez, does he live in the 90s?” Wei Wuxian grumbled. He was frustrated. He wanted to move, to do something, but instead they were tracking down breadcrumbs just to figure out how to ask a guy to be his fake boyfriend. Waste of time.

“Bingo!” Nie Huaisang crowed, suddenly. “One of the profiles I set up finally got added to the Team Lan Wangji’s Wives chat group. Ok, here we go.”

Jiang Cheng peeked over his shoulder while he scrolled. “Riveting.”

“What is it?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Anything useful?”

“Well, he’s an Aquarius, if that helps anything.”

“‘Has been seen drinking black cherry soda twice as often as lemon lime.’ Wow, these girls are thorough.”

“How are there so many videos of him?” Wen Ning wanted to know. “Isn’t it illegal to post videos filmed without consent? This school seems to have a serious problem on its hands.”

Nevertheless, they watched a couple of the videos. They all showed a pair or small group of girls approaching Lan Wangji and two other guys who always seemed to be with him, only to get rudely and ruthlessly shot down. Then the girls would squee into the camera about how cool it was to be rejected by the hottest guy on campus and how they had just been inspired to try harder next time.

What a mess. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy to think Lan Wangji would agree to a fake dating scheme after all. At least it would help him get away from these girls. Right? Wei Wuxian felt a pitch forming in his mind, exactly how he was going to convince Lan Wangji that this plan was in their mutual interest.

“Hey, is that his class schedule?” Wen Ning asked, interrupting Wei Wuxian’s musings. “Huaisang, is that legit?”

“Looks like it. He’s getting out of Building D in fifteen minutes.”

“Let’s go, then,” Wei Wuxian said, already halfway out the door.

*

They definitely weren’t the only ones monitoring the Team Lan Wangji’s Wives chat, it soon became very clear. When they got to Building D, there was already a line of girls trailing down the outside stairs, waiting for an appearance. Wei Wuxian skidded to a halt, trying to catch his breath. “This is crazy. How do we even know if he’s in class?”

“Whoa, wait,” Nie Huaisang said, just then.

“What?’

“One of my best sources just said this schedule is a red herring. It’s a fake! He’s over at Building E!”

The declaration echoed through the stairwell, and there was a beat of silence. Then, like some kind of zombie outbreak movie, all the girls started to turn their way.

Jiang Cheng smacked Nie Huaisang upside the head. “Too loud, man!”

And then there was no time to think anymore, or even catch their breaths. It was a race to Building E with a few dozen girls right on their tails.

Once, Wei Wuxian might have relished being chased by a small horde of girls, but they weren’t for him, and anyway, there were more important things on his mind. He had to get to Lan Wangji first.

And then, all at once, he had.

Lan Wangji had been walking in the opposite direction with two others, but the sounds of running must have caught his attention. He turned back just as Wei Wuxian came to a stop.

A jolt ran through Wei Wuxian. His heartbeat was ragged. He couldn’t catch his breath, and it wasn’t just from the mad dash.

He could not stop staring at this guy.

Was he even human? He didn’t look it. He looked like…like something too perfect to be real.

Wei Wuxian shook himself. Wherever that thought had come from, it had to stop.

It felt like an eternity that they’d stared at each other, but before Wei Wuxian had even opened his mouth, Lan Wangji scowled and turned away.

“Wait!” Wei Wuxian called out as his friends caught up to them. “Lan Wangji? Lan Wangji!” He couldn’t let him get away, not without even asking him for his help. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji stiffened, stopped. His friends gaped as he walked back towards Wei Wuxian.

“What?”

“What? Uh, I mean—”

“I’m in a rush. What do you want?” His voice was deep, and cold, like an icy cave.

“I want—that is—can you?” Wei Wuxian felt like he’d been hit on the head with a brick. Lan Wangji’s eyes were just…wow, and his nose, good lord, and his lips—

“If you keep looking at me like that,” Lan Wangji said, “I’ll kiss you til you drop. Stop annoying me.”

And then he really did turn and walk away.

One of his friends shrugged theatrically, and the other waved, as if to shoo them all off. Wei Wuxian couldn’t move.

What had just happened?

*

I’ll kiss you til you drop. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Had Wei Wuxian looked like he wanted a—no. No, no way.

Okay, so that could have gone better. But Wei Wuxian was resilient. He’d survived orphanhood and homelessness and a stepmother who hated the very sight of him; one awkward meeting wasn’t going to be the end of him.

He had to regroup, that was all.

“Maybe we should think of a new plan,” Nie Huaisang suggested, after they had escaped Lan Wangji’s fanclub and retreated to the dorm.

“I’ll be your fake boyfriend. If it’ll help.” Wen Ning really was the sweetest.

But Wei Wuxian was determined, now. “It has to be him.”

“Why?” Jiang Cheng asked, puzzled.

“Because…because it has to be! Huaisang, find me a way to talk to him. Without that whole audience.”  

The next day, he had just narrowly escaped Meng Yao on the way to the library and was at loose ends, when Nie Huaisang finally called. “Ok. Da-ge says he usually parks in the North lot, and he drives a white car.”

“How wonderfully specific.”

“Hey, you’re lucky to get that much. Or would you rather ask him yourself?”

That was a solid no. With a sigh, Wei Wuxian made for the North parking lot to look for every white car.

He was walking down the last row in the lot when Lan Wangji walked right by him. And promptly got into a blue car. (Damn it, Nie Mingjue!)

“Hey, wait,” he called. “Lan Wangji, wait up!”

The asshole had to have seen him there, waving like a madman, but he didn’t even pause before smoothly backing the car out. Wei Wuxian clenched his jaw. Fine. He was resourceful. He could figure this out.

He caught sight of a nearby bike rack, said a quick prayer to the gods of fortune, and got lucky: someone had parked their bike without a lock. “I’ll bring it right back,” he promised to the empty air, and sped off to catch Lan Wangji.

Fortunately, the guy was basically crawling through the parking lot. He was the only person Wei Wuxian had ever seen who seemed to actually follow the 5mph posted signs.

He pulled up beside the driver’s side window. “Lan Wangji!” he shouted. The car crawled forward; he pedaled faster to keep up. “Lan Zhan!”

Finally, some reaction. The window inched down. “You’re going to cause an accident. What?”

 “Lan Zhan, I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t need to talk to you.”

“Just give me one minute, I have to ask you something, please, just stop—”

“Five seconds.”

“Wh—”

“Four. Three. Two.”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t remember the last time he had been so flustered. (Other than yesterday, at least.) Two? They were down to two already? He hadn’t even said anything, he hadn’t even figured out how to say anything. He—

Lan Wangji turned his car toward the lot exit, and Wei Wuxian overcorrected, veering over a curb into a stand of bushes.

*

He couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds, but the next thing he knew, Meng Yao’s concerned face was swimming in his field of vision. “Wei Ying? Wei Ying, are you okay?”

When awareness hit him, he scrambled away, deeper into the bushes. “Fine! Great, I mean, I’m great!”

“What are you even doing back here, weren’t you supposed to be at the library?”

“Just…taking a walk. Um. A bike ride, I mean.”

Meng Yao looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head, but it passed quickly. He reached out.  “Come on, let’s get you up. I’ll make you some nice hot soup, how’s that sound?”

He stumbled to his feet. “Oh, no, I’m really fi—”

He was saved, in a manner of speaking, by a car that stopped in front of them. Yu Jinzhu poked her head out of the passenger side window. “Wei Wuxian? Are you skipping mentor group again? I swear—”

The last thing he wanted to think about right now was socializing with his mentor group, but the choice between Yu Jinzhu and Meng Yao was clear. “No, I’m coming,” he said, scrambling for the car. “Just needed to find a ride. You showed up right on time.”  

By the time they made it to the restaurant, a cozy, chill place where their group was set around a series of long tables outside, he had managed to collect himself. The group was made up of underclassmen, upperclassmen, and even some alumni: it was supposed to be for making connections that would serve you in school and, later, the job market. Wei Wuxian had been avoiding it (thinking about future networking wasn’t exactly on his priorities list), but soon he was actually enjoying himself.

Those freshman who hadn’t made it to the last meeting had to introduce themselves—the sillier the better—so when it was Wei Wuxian’s turn, he hopped up on a bench and started singing an over-the-top song. The others egged him on, and he was really getting into it, when something flashed in the corner of his eye. He looked up to see Lan Wangji on the terrace above him, with his friends from earlier, watching.

He lost his balance and fell from the bench.

It must have looked like part of the act, because everyone seemed to love it. So Wei Wuxian hammed it up for a little bit longer, and when he looked up again, Lan Wangji was gone.

A little bit later, Wei Wuxian headed for the bathroom. Lan Wangji was there, washing his hands. Wei Wuxian started to back up out the door, even though he hadn’t intended or expected to come across Lan Wangji this time. Even though they were alone, no fanclub, no audience, and there would be no better time to ask him for help.

But he didn’t back away fast enough; Lan Wangi saw him. He shut of the faucet with his wrist, shook his hands dry (huh. Those were really good hands.)

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not following you.” Lan Wangji didn’t say anything, just looked. Wei Wuxian sighed. “Okay, I was following you, but only a little. I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t like to talk to strangers.” He pulled a phone from his pocket to check the time.

Wei Wuxian laughed through his nose. “Seriously? What are you, five? Anyway, we don’t have to be strangers. I’m We—”

He cut off as Lan Wangji brushed by him, heading for the door. Not again. Wei Wuxian was tired of chasing, of letting this kid slip through his fingers over and over.

Without thinking, he grabbed for the phone. “Hey!” Lan Wangji barked, wrestling for it. “What are you doing?”

“Texting myself so we’ll have each others’ numbers. Then you can contact me, right? And I don’t have to chase you around. Hey, hey, I’ll give it back, one sec.”

He and Lan Wangji struggled over the phone. And then it fell, cracking on the tile floor.

For a second they both stared down at it. Then Wei Wuxian looked up at Lan Wangji. “…ooops?”

Lan Wangji’s ears were red. “What is wrong with you?”

Wei Wuxian flailed, in panic mode. “I’m sorry, it was an accident! I’ll get it fixed, I swear I—hey!”

He felt his muscles tense as Lan Wangji reached over into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. “Collateral,” he said, shortly. Then, “Fix it.” And then he was gone again. He was really good at that.

*

Wei Wuxian wanted to scream. On the one hand, he had Meng Yao breathing down his neck (he’d shown up at the dorm with first aid supplies as if Wei Wuxian had suffered a major trauma instead of face-planting in some bushes.) On the other, he couldn’t get Lan Wangji to stick around for more than a minute. And he had to get Lan Wangji for his fake boyfriend. It was a point of pride, now.

“And now he’s got my phone!” he finished, wailing. He’d been pacing the room, working through the story out loud as if that would help him find the key to fixing all of his problems.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t looked up even once from his math assignment. “Twenty bucks says he starts messing with your social media.”

“He can’t be that petty. Anyway, he’ll never figure out my passwords.”

Just as he said that, a Facebook notification rang out from his laptop. “Should have made it thirty bucks,” Jiang Cheng mused.

Wei Wuxian stared at his feed on the screen. I want to eat Lan Wangji for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. it declared, under his name. And the hits just kept coming. I’m taking the number one spot in Team Lan Wangji’s Wives. Watch out, girls. He’s mine.

He slammed the laptop closed. “What do I do?”

“Well, for starters, you might want to fix that phone.”

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji’s phone was unfixable.

It was dead. Deceased. It had shuffled off this mortal coil. It was an ex-phone. As a phone, it had ceased to be.

By the time he’d visited three different shops who all offered the same grim assessment, Wei Wuxian had come to accept it. Reluctantly, he parted with the bulk of his bank account to buy an almost-new, totally-at-least-functional flip phone. He’d just have to drink cafeteria coffee for the rest of the term instead of going to the coffee shop, and go without snacks entirely. (Or steal his brother’s, at least).

In the midst of spamming Wei Wuxian’s social media with slanderous messages, Lan Wangji had left him a private message about a time and place to meet for the phone exchange. An out-of-the-way corner behind the poly-sci building. Wei Wuxian was relieved to see that he was alone, leaning on his elbows on the walkway above a deserted courtyard. At least there would be no audience for his further humiliations.

He put on his patented Wei Wuxian grin as he swaggered up. “So. Bad news or good news?”

Lan Wangji’s face was statue-like. “Might as well start with the good.”

“This one is more compact than your old model,” he said, pulling the box from the plastic shop bag. “And no distracting camera, but it does get wifi access.”

Lan Wangji’s jaw clenched. “Keep it.” He pushed the box back towards Wei Wuxian, then took Wei Wuxian’s phone from his own pocket and placed it carefully on top.

“But—”

With those very distracting fingers, Lan Wangji pulled yet another phone out of his opposite pocket. “The new one I bought is better.”

“You already got a replacement? Then why the hell did you take mine?”

Lan Wangji’s answering shrug was infinitesimal. “You needed to take responsibility for your actions somehow. Well, see you around, Wei Ying.”

“Wait. Where are you always running off to so fast? I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t need to talk to you.”

“Give me ten seconds.”

“Five.” When Wei Wuxian yet again found himself unable to speak, Lan Wangji started to slowly walk backwards. “Four. Three. Two.”

Wei Wuxian was going to scream. Frustrated, he reached out and grabbed Lan Wangji’s wrist. Lan Wangji was warm, pulse beating right beneath the skin.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrows were set in a straight line over immeasurably dark eyes. For a long moment they just stood there, staring at each other. Then Lan Wangji yanked his hand away.

“Nuisance.”

“Fake boyfriend, I mean,” Wei Wuxian corrected. “Obviously. I really need your help, here.”

“I don’t—never mind. Goodbye.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know why, but he felt seasick. His insides all tilted. He watched Lan Wangji leave and didn’t try to chase him down. Rejection had never really hurt him before…but this wasn’t precisely hurt,  either, he didn’t think. It was…he couldn’t name it.

Lan Wangji was a puzzle. Now, more than dissuading Meng Yao’s attentions, more than upholding his reputation…Wei Wuxian just wanted to solve it.

*

When Wei Wuxian finished sharing a selectively edited recounting of the meeting with his friends, Jiang Cheng frowned. “This is getting complicated. What’s your goal here, to get rid of Meng Yao or to win over Lan Wangji?”

“Both.”

“Why, though?”

“Just…because!” Holding back a frustrated grunt, Wei Wuxian collapsed into a heap on his bed. He picked at the seam on his bedsheets, very carefully not looking at his brother. “It’s just both, okay?”

It was Wen Ning who came up with the next step in the evolving plan. “Well, if you want to win over Lan Wangji, why don’t you join the same club as him? You’d have to spend time together, then.”

It was worth a try. Meng Yao wasn’t in the music club, so at the very least it would give Wei Wuxian a few hours a week completely free of him. If he could spend time with Lan Wangji and prove that he wasn’t just a nuisance, get him to agree to the fake boyfriend plan, well…bonus.

“Huaisang, can you get your brother to let me in the club?”

Nie Huaisang laughed sardonically. “Do you know how seriously he takes that shit? You can go through the club day sign ups like everyone else. But you have to have music in your soul. If he doesn’t see the passion, you don’t make the cut.”

“I can do passion. I like music.”

It was Jiang Cheng’s turn to laugh. “You listen to one band.”

“I listen to more than one band. It’s just that SCRUBB is my favorite; people are allowed to have favorites.”

“Do you play any instruments?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“I played the recorder for a couple years in primary school.”

“It haunts me,” Jiang Cheng said, dramatically. “I’ve been trying to forget those sounds for most of my life.”

Wei Wuxian shoved him. Then they got into a mock-fight, and for just a minute Wei Wuxian was able to forget his larger worries.

The next day, they all headed down to the club fair, a bustling crowd of people weaving between sign-up booths, flyers thrust upon them from all directions. “Da-ge’s definitely gonna try and intimidate you,” Nie Huaisang was explaining, knowingly. “It’s how he picks out the serious candidates. But don’t worry, we’re all joining with you. Solidarity.”

“You really don’t have to,” Wei Wuxian told them, though he was secretly super touched.

“And miss getting to watch you constantly making an ass of yourself?” Jiang Cheng snorted. “Of course we’re joining with you.”

Wei Wuxian kicked him in the shin. He was saved from Jiang Cheng getting him back by the unexpected appearance of girls in bikinis. Lots of girls, very tiny bikinis. He gaped as the girls showered them with flyers. “Join the swim club!”

One of them measured Wen Ning’s shoulders with the stretch of her arms. “You look just made for it.”

Others were circling around Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng. Like sharks. “It’s good exercise, and good socialization.”

Huaisang was the one who broke first. “Yes, we will definitely join the swim club. Regular aquaphiles, that’s us.”

“Traitors,” Wei Wuxian hissed.

Jiang Cheng shot him a wry grin. “But it’s good exercise. And good socialization.”

“Um,” was all Wen Ning said. He broke eye contact with Wei Wuxian, accepted a flier from the girl who had complimented his shoulder width, and shuffled to hide behind the others.

Wei Wuxian was about to go off on them, when suddenly he spotted Meng Yao heading right for him. He backed off and tried to scamper around a corner, but not fast enough. “Wei Ying!” Meng Yao called, loud as a bell. He hooked his arm around Wei Wuxian’s shoulder and spun him in the opposite direction, steering him away from the girls in bikinis and his traitorous friends. “You should come sign up for the cooking club.”

“Oh…um…I’d rather—”

As they reached the booth, Meng Yao shoved a plastic spoon full of something at him. Wei Wuxian cringed back instinctively, refusing it. Meng Yao hmmed, disappointed. But he kept pitching, undeterred.

“We have different themes every week. And I’m the ace of the club, if you’re struggling, I can give you personal lessons. Also—”

He kept talking, but Wei Wuxian had stopped listening. Music club, music club, where was…ah! He spotted a cluster of girls, Nie Mingjue towering over them. And right behind, propped unenthusiastically against the brick wall, there was Lan Wangji.

“What’s that over there?” Wei Wuxian blurted, pointing in another direction, to distract Meng Yao.

Meng Yao blinked at him. “Huh?”

“Uh…I meant, what’s that over there?” He pointed in the opposite direction.

Meng Yao put down his spoon and reached out as if to feel Wei Wuxian’s forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

Wei Wuxian skipped back again. “Just dandy. Uh. Gotta go I…uh…left the stove on.”

“But don’t you live in the dorms?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t bother to answer, just ducked behind the nearest person and weaved through the crowd as quickly as possible. Once he’d run the gauntlet, he popped up in front of the music club booth. Lan Wangji was already gone. Wei Wuxian smiled weakly up at Nie Mingjue, who was glowering down at him like some kind of fierce, ancient general, and put his name to the sign-up sheet.

*

“I heard a rumor that I don’t like.” Nie Mingjue paced back and forth at the front of the small club room, arms folded sternly over his chest. Wei Wuxian sat on the floor with all of the new club members, mostly girls, packed in like sardines.

“We just had the most sign-ups for our club ever,” Nie Mingjue continued, “but I heard it was because you’re all chasing after some pretty boy.”

Wei Wuxian cringed. Seated at a table with others who were already in the club, Lan Wangji seemed to stiffen.

“Now, that’s not true, is it?” The new music-club hopefuls looked to each other for clues how to respond; there were a few weak nods, some mutterings of no, sir.

Nie Mingjue cupped his hand around his ear. “What was that?”

This wasn’t going well. Biting back a sigh, Wei Wuxian decided someone would have to take control of this situation, or they’d be awkwardly sitting here getting berated by Nie Mingjue all night. “No, sir!” he barked, like he was leading a cheer.  He gestured subtly to the people sitting beside him and finally got some reaction as a soft wave of no, sirs followed in his wake.

Nie Mingjue looked skeptical. But then, he usually looked skeptical. It might have been the mustache.

“Good. But you have to be committed to this club. We must have trust in our fellow members. So!” He clapped roughly, and Wei Wuxian and the other new recruits jumped. Nie Mingjue’s grin was ominous. “Ice breakers.”

*

The ice breaker activities started out normal enough. Everyone had to join in a series of silly songs; not to demonstrate any actual singing ability, but instead to prove their willingness to make fools of themselves. Wei Wuxian was great at making a fool of himself. The sillier he was; the more people liked him. Also, the club secretary, Yu Yinzhu, had somehow found out he was a cheerleader (she did look almost scarily like Yu Jinzhu) and announced it to everyone. So he threw himself into things with enthusiasm, and he was actually having a lot of fun and meeting new people. Ice breaking: achieved.

Then came the dancing and activity portions of the program.

Wei Wuxian was definitely going to ask Nie Huaisang about where his brother had come up with those dances. And possibly report things to their Faculty Representative; cause no way they could be considered appropriate school-sanctioned activities.

Not that Wei Wuxian precisely minded tangling close to a cute little blushing girl. But he also wasn’t sure how it led to club unity, or whatever Nie Mingjue was trying to achieve.

“Spider dance!” Nie Mingjue declared for the next round. “Switch partners.”

Some of the older members of the club laughed knowingly, as if they knew what was coming. Nie Mingjue looked around “Who hasn’t been up front to demonstrate, yet? Ah. Lan Wangji, get up here.”

Wei Wuxian looked straight at Lan Wangji; he was extremely reluctant, but allowed Nie Mingjue to pull him over to the front of the room. Nie Mingjue rubbed his hands together diabolically. “So, the spider dance…ah, Lan Wangji, you need a partner. Let’s see here…” he scanned the room, bypassing all the girls who were laughing and holding back squeals, clearly up for being Lan Wangji’s partner in anything.

“Cheerleader,” Nie Mingjue barked. “Get up here!”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth dropped open. “M—me?”

Nie Mingjue waved him forward. “Come on, come on, we don’t have all night. “

The spider dance, it turned out, entailed Wei Wuxian on the floor, crawling backwards on his hands, while Lan Wangji crawled right above him. At the end of the song, they had to bounce up and down.

Wei Wuxian was not prone to blushing. But having his limbs all tangled up with Lan Wangji’s, staring into his dark eyes as he scooted backwards along the floor, was kind of intense.

Nie Mingjue made them do it three times.

By the time Wei Wuxian clambered awkwardly back to his feet, his face felt hot. He wanted to slip outside to catch his breath, but Nie Mingjue was already moving on to the next activity. “This is everybody’s favorite,” he promised. “The friendship snack.”

Snacks were good. Wei Wuxian was highly snack motivated.

“Stay in your pairs for now,” Nie Mingjue instructed as Yu Yinzhu weaved through the room handing out crisp breadsticks. She was only giving them to every other person; Wei Wuxian looked down at his, then up at Lan Wangji, just as Nie Mingjue was saying, “Now, the goal of this activity is to feed your friend without using your hands. When the snack is finished, you pass.”

Without using hands meant…Wei Wuxian swallowed. But he could totally do this. He just needed Lan Wangji to play along. He gamely took one end of the breadstick in his mouth and waited for Lan Wangji to take up the other.

Lan Wangji was staring daggers at Nie Mingjue. Nie Mingjue almost cackled. “You are so bad at group activities, Lan Wangji. Do you want your team to fail?”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know what he meant by fail. Would they be kicked out of the club? Well, that definitely couldn’t happen. Determined, he thrust his face closer to Lan Wangji’s, trying to get him to grab the snack.

Lan Wangji’s gaze slid over him, and then he finally took up the other end of the breadstick. And started coming closer, bite by tiny bite.

Wei Wuxian really should help him out, but suddenly he had forgotten how to move.

Then they were within millimeters of each other, and then Lan Wangji surged forward for the last bite and their lips brushed against each other.

The girls all screamed with glee.

Wei Wuxian just stood there, frozen to the spot.

*

As he was walking through the law faculty courtyard to his usual lunch spot with the guys, Wei Wuxian felt like every eye was on him. Everyone seemed to be whispering or laughing behind his back. He tried to shake off his unease as he set down his tray. “Why do I feel like everyone is staring at me?” he asked.

“Because they are,” Jiang Cheng said.

“What did I do now?”  

“Other than kissing Lan Wangji, you mean?”

“That was not a kiss! Our lips just brushed.”

“Oh, accidentally?”

“Yes, acci—” Wei Wuxian cut off, realizing something. “Wait, how do you even know about that?”

Nie Mingjue promptly displayed his phone. “My friend, you have gone viral.”

Feeling a sick drop to his stomach, Wei Wuxian watched video evidence of…well, it certainly looked like he was kissing Lan Wangji. And why did he look so insipid and moonstruck?

“Seriously, this school has such a problem with unauthorized recording,” Wen Ning muttered. Now that he was on the other end of it, Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but agree.

Still, he passed back the phone and tried his best to look nonchalant. “No big, though Huaisang, you really should talk to your brother about appropriate club activities. Anyway, this will work for us. Once Meng Yao sees it, it doesn’t matter if Lan Wangji is officially my fake boyfriend or not.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Have you decided what instrument you’re going to play?” Wen Ning asked.

“Guitar. It’ll look cool, right, me with a guitar?” Wen Ning nodded earnestly.

It was with the confidence from Wen Ning’s enthusiasm that Wei Wuxian went to the first official club meeting that afternoon. Yu Yinzhu was signing out instruments; Wei Wuxian couldn’t see Nie Mingjue or Lan Wangji anywhere, or, for that matter, any of the other preexisting club members.

“Where is everyone?” he asked Yu Yinzhu.

“Oh, beginners practice in a separate room,” she said. “Didn’t you stick around to hear the club rules last night?”

“I must have forgotten.”

“Oh, I see. Well, what instrument?”

“Uh…guitar.”

Yu Yinzhu clucked her tongue. “So many guitarists this year. Here, this is the last one left, I’m afraid.” She took a beat-up old acoustic from the instrument closet. At Wei Wuxian’s skeptical look, she patted his shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll at least be fine to learn basic chords. Just don’t take it home at night.”

“Are we not allowed? I don’t remember that in the rules, either.”

“Oh no, you’re allowed, but this one is haunted. Best to leave it here when you’re done with it.”

“…Haunted?”

“The last guy who officially owned this keeled over on stage from a heart attack.” Her smile was disconcertingly bright. “It’s still a good guitar, though. Uh…make sure not to play Hotel California.”

*

Things were definitely going the way Wei Wuxian had hoped. He hadn’t even seen Lan Wangji yet, and it turned out, playing guitar was hard. He couldn’t get the hang of a single chord, even the ones Yu Yinzhu assured him should be easy. Maybe it was because the guitar was haunted. Its strings were certainly hard enough.

Added to that, Nie Mingjue came into the beginner room to glumly announce that they had accepted more new members than the club’s charter would allow. Accordingly, auditions would be held in one week to determine who could actually stay in the club. If Wei Wuxian couldn’t learn a chord, he was out.

During break, Wei Wuxian went to the restroom to run cold water over his blistering fingers. He was standing at the sink hissing indignantly when Meng Yao came in, tutting, and inexplicably carrying a first-aid kid. “Poor Wei Ying. What do you think you’re doing, silly boy?”

Startled, Wei Wuxian jumped about a mile high. “What are you doing here?”

Meng Yao held up the first aid kit. “I brought band aids. For you blisters.”

“How did you even know—”

“Oh, I have my sources. Stand still, would you? You know, you really should come over to the cooking club. Guitar playing will ruin your lovely hands.”

“I’m fine, Meng Yao,” he said, pulling his hands away. “In fact, I’m great. So I’m going to get back to my club now.”

“But, Wei Yi—”

Wei Wuxian didn’t turn back, heading for the exit. He barely even noticed that he brushed past Lan Wangji on his way out, so intent was he on ignoring Meng Yao’s call.

At least there were snacks laid out on the table in the club room. Thank god for snacks. Wei Wuxian reached for a bag of spicy chips, then saw that there was a post-it note attached. For Lan Wangji it read. <3 Team Lan Wangji’s Wives.

The entire pile on the table had the same notes attached.

Screw it. Vindictively, Wei Wuxian ripped open the bag. He had a chip halfway to his mouth when he heard someone clear their throat.

“Are you taking my snacks?”

Wei Wuxian glowered at Lan Wangji, then shoved a chip in his mouth. “Yes, I am taking your snacks.” That probably would have sounded better if he said it before shoving a chip in his mouth, but oh well, the deed was done.

“Rude.”

“You have so many! From your precious fanclub. I could have fanclub too, you know. If I wanted.”

“Mnn.”

Wei Wuxian pulled a face and ate another chip. He was sulking; he didn’t care.

“How do you know Meng Yao?”

“I don’t. Never met him before he attached himself to me, but now won’t leave me alone.”

“Mnn. How’s the guitar practice coming?”

“Boy, you’re positively chatty today, aren’t you? It’s going horribly. The ghost in my guitar hates me.”

“The gho—I never have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be out of the club next week and you won’t have to see me again.”

Lan Wangji’s gaze was inscrutable. Well, what else was new? He walked away and Wei Wuxian assumed he had just left without a goodbye, but he came back shortly with an acoustic guitar. He held it out. “Try mine.”

“Wait—seriously?”

Lan Wangji nodded. “C chord. Wipe that chip dust off your hands, first. Now, please.”

Well jeez, someone was bossy. But, fine. Wei Wuxian took the guitar and sat down on a bench, working his fingers into the right position. He strummed, experimentally.

“Wrong.”

He bit his tongue. Strummed again.

“Wrong.”

Again.

“Wrong. Here, your pointer finger goes here, and your ring finger goes here, and—”

“Ugh!” Wei Wuxian shoved the guitar back at Lan Wangji. “Just forget it. I’m going home.”

“Is Meng Yao why you asked me that question?” Lan Wangji blurted, unexpectedly, as Wei Wuxian rose to leave.

No need to clarify which question. Wei Wuxian froze. “Why does it matter? You can’t even pretend to like me.”

Lan Wangji looked thunderous. “I do not pretend.”

“Right.”

“Did you just join this club to get me to pretend for you?”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be in the club next week and you can forget all about me.”

“Oh. So, you’re a quitter.”

“I’m not a—” Rage surged through Wei Wuxian, but died just as quickly. He sighed. “Whatever. Forget it. I’ll see you tomorrow, Lan Zhan.”

*

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Lan Wangji had said, though. Oh. So, you’re a quitter.

Wei Wuxian did not quit. He was going to learn proper chords, and he was going to pass the club audition, and, most importantly of all, he was going to get Lan Wangji to be his fake boyfriend. No matter what it took.

And the next time he saw an opportunity, he took it. Without thinking. Thinking never had been one of his strong suits, after all.

He was lingering around the club’s storage room when he saw Lan Wangji walk in, calling for Nie Mingjue. Nie Mingjue wasn’t there; Wei Wuxian had just passed him on the stairs. The storage room was accordingly empty, and Lan Wangji was right in front of the open, empty instrument cabinet, and…well…

Wei Wuxian came up behind and pushed him inside.

It wasn’t his best moment, admittedly. But once and for all, he was determined to get Lan Wangji on his side. Even if it meant a teensy bit of unethical behavior.

Inside the cabinet, Lan Wangji banged against the door. “Who is that? Nuisance, is that you? Let me out.”

Wei Wuxian pushed back against the doors, trying to keep him in. “Not until you agree to be my fake boyfriend.”

“This again? I told you, I don’t pretend. Let me out, this is unlawful imprisonment. Aren’t you a law student?”

“I’m desperate, that’s what I am. Just listen, please, I—”

“Wei Ying!” a shrill voice called out. “Where did you go? I know you came this way.”

Wei Wuxian panicked. He threw open the cabinet door, saw Lan Wangji’s startled face for a microsecond, and then clambered inside the cabinet himself, gesturing for Lan Wangji to keep silent.

Unamused, Lan Wangji glowered at him.

Outside, Meng Yao’s voice was getting closer. “Look, I was thinking about things. You must be afraid to leave music club because you’re scared of Nie Mingjue. But don’t worry! I will totally help you smooth things over with him, and then you can join the cooking club with me.” His voice came into the room. “Wei Ying? Are you in here?”

Be quiet, Wei Wuxian tried to signal Lan Wangji with his eyes. Ignoring it, Lan Wangji opened his mouth to say something. Wei Wuxian slapped his hand over his mouth. “Don’t,” he mouthed, silently.

At that exact moment, his phone started to ring. Lan Wangji rolled his eyes.

“Wei Ying?” Meng Yao sounded puzzled. “Are you in the cabi—”

At that, Lan Wangji pushed open his side of the door and stepped out, stretching his arms up over his head. “What do you want? I was napping.”

“In—in the cabinet? You were napping in the cabinet?”

Lan Wangji rolled his shoulders. “Yes, do you have a problem with that? Who are you looking for? Mingjue isn’t here.”

“Oh. Right. Um…I guess I’ll just, go, then? Carry on.”

Wei Wuxian tried frantically to figure out how he was going to recover from this, but by the time the coast was clear and Lan Wangji opened the other side of the door to let him out, he was still drawing up blank. He stuttered over a few syllables, but nothing really came out. Lan Wangji was studying him intently. Suddenly, Wei Wuxian was less worried about getting him to be his fake boyfriend, and more worried about keeping him from pressing assault charges.

“So, it is Meng Yao.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Listen. If you pass the club auditions, I will be your boyfriend.”

“What?”

“I’m not saying it again. But if you fail, you have to leave me alone. No more of this breaking my property or shoving me into cabinets thing, alright?”

“That—that—”

“Is it a deal?”

Wei Wuxian smiled widely. “Yes! It’s a deal. I will totally pass the auditions and be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. Thank you, Lan Zhan!”

“Don’t thank me. Go practice your chords.”

*

Wei Wuxian stayed late in the club room all week, but he just couldn’t get the hang of things. C only sounded right about half the time, though he’d played it so often that now he couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to sound like anyway. E wasn’t too bad. G was impossible.

On the day before the audition, when he finally gave up and went back to his dorm for the night, he downloaded a guitar-practicing app to his phone. He messed with it until Jiang Cheng kicked him out. Jiang Cheng said he was trying too hard, and he just had to let things be what they would be. But Wei Wuxian wasn’t used to being bad at things. He really wanted to succeed.

Unfortunately, he didn’t think he was going to.

Things looked more and more grim the next day as he watched each of his fellow club hopefuls audition. Drums, keyboards, flutes: they all sounded, if not perfect, at least better than Wei Wuxian. And all of the guitarists at least had their chords down.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

When it was his turn, Wei Wuxian pretended to mess with the amp longer than strictly necessary. While he was turned away from the audition judges, he pulled up a simple guitar video on his phone and placed it on one of the speakers. He angled himself away from their gaze and pretended to play, hoping against hope that no one would notice.

“Oh, that’s quite nice,” Yu Yinzhu said, supportively. She gave Wei Wuxian a thumbs up. He couldn’t believe it, it was working, he was going to pass—

His phone buzzed with a text notification.

Nie Mingjue went ballistic, and Wei Wuxian could do nothing but sit there under the onslaught. Finally, when he could get a word in, he appealed to Nie Mingjue’s better nature, which he wasn’t sure he had. “Ok, I fucked up. I know I did. But please. Give me one more chance. Please.”

Nie Mingjue looked to Yu Yinzhu, who thankfully seemed more on Wei Wuxian’s side. Then he looked to Lan Wangji. Finally, he turned back to Wei Wuxian, scowling. “Fine. Last chance.”

Trembling under the stern gaze, Wei Wuxian took a deep breath. He strummed out a C chord. A D. A G, or at least an attempt at one.

Nie Mingjue looked homicidal.

“That’s it?”

“I mean, you join a club to learn, not because you’re already perfect at something.”

Sass was definitely not the right choice. Nie Mingjue looked ready to throw the table over. Only Yu Yinzhu prevented him. “That was good, Wei Wuxian,” she said, almost convincingly. “You’ve really improved. And Mingjue, he’s been here every night for a week. He certainly is dedicated.”

“Why do you want to be in this club?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“What?”

“Did you not hear me? Why do you want to be in this club? Do you know a single thing about music?”

“I…no. I don’t. But I know Lan Wangji.”

Lan Wangji had been looking off to the side, but suddenly his gaze snapped to Wei Wuxian. His brows were lowered.

Wei Wuxian didn’t care. Desperate times. “Lan Wangji inspires me,” he said. “Maybe a lot of us joined the club because of that. But it’s true. He makes me want to learn music. So…that’s it. That’s why I’m here.”

Awkwardly, he fled, Yu Yinzhu’s hesitant clapping following after him.

He should have just gone home, but some masochistic urge made him stay with the rest of the club hopefuls waiting for the official list of members to be posted.

When Yu Yinzhu finally posted the list, everyone rushed to crowd around. When Wei Wuxian finally struggled to the front, he scanned down the list. Not his name, not his name…there. At the very bottom of the list. He had made it into the club.

The audition over and everyone leaving the club room, Wei Wuxian collected an armful of snacks left by Team Lan Wangji’s Wives; he figured it was always best to show up with offerings in hand. He looked around the room until he spotted his target, but though he tried to be cool in the approach, he was too excited to be cool.

“Lan Zhan! I made it in the club.”

“Mnn. Because they felt sorry for you.”

“Pfft, it doesn’t matter if they felt sorry for me or not. What matters is you made a promise.”

“Right. Later.” Lan Wangji tried to move past him. Wei Wuxian planted himself in the path.

“You did promise. You’re not going to break it, are you?”

Lan Wangji didn’t acknowledge this. “You look ridiculous. What is all this stuff?”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “Your fanclub snacks. Here.” He tried to pass some over, but Lan Wangji let them drop out of his arms.

Why was he being this way? The boy was unfathomable.

Wei Wuxian bent over to pick up the snacks, when one bottle of juice caught his eye. “Hey, I got one too! From Li Fei…huh, who is Li—hey!”

Wei Wuxian snatched the bottle out of his hand and started drinking, his Adam’s apple bobbing aggressively.

“Lan Zhan, you have so many, what are you doing stealing my one drink?”

Lan Wangji scowled. He recapped the bottle and walked over to the table to grab a pen, scribbling something on the note that Li Fei had left for Wei Wuxian. Then he shoved it back in Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“Okay.”

“Okay? Okay, what?”

Lan Wangji gestured to the bottle. “Okay.” Then he walked away.

Wei Wuxian looked down at the bottle. Lan Wangji had crossed out Li Fei’s note, and underneath had written He’s taken.

Well. That was good. It was what he’d wanted all along, right?

So why did he feel like his heart was going to burst out of his chest?

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian woke up early and caught the gang having breakfast in their usual spot. Wen Ning blinked owlishly up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t have breakfast?”

“Sure, but—”

“I don’t think we’ve seen you at breakfast once since the term began,” Jiang Cheng said. “What are you doing awake before noon?”

“I know what he’s doing,” Nie Huaisang sing-songed. “Someone passed their audition for music club.”

“And!” Wei Wuxian added with a flourish, taking a seat on the bench. “I got Lan Zhan to agree. Operation Fake Boyfriend is officially a go.”

Wen Ning clapped, excited. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “‘Lan Zhan’ is it, now?”

“Well, I can’t very well be stuffy and call my boyfriend Lan Wangji. Fake boyfriend, I mean. Anyway, forget all that. Now I need you guys again.”

“What the fuck for? You got what you wanted.”

“The three of you have to start spreading the rumor, and make sure Meng Yao knows that Lan Zhan has been flirting with me.”

“Already on it,” Nie Huaisang said, pulling out his phone, just as Jiang Cheng asked “Why? Can’t you do it?”

“He’s not going to believe it from me unless we like, suck face right in front of him, or something.”

Jiang Cheng winced and threw down his spoon. “There goes my appetite. Have I told you lately that I hate you?”

“You’ll get over it. Huaisang, make sure Meng Yao knows I’ll be waiting outside of the poly sci building before Lan Zhan’s classes today. Might as well get started right away.”

*

He was practically buzzing with nervous energy as he waited for Lan Zhan to show up for class. When he caught sight of Meng Yao in the distance, he forced himself to calm down. Casual. He was totally casual, just hanging out here for no particular reason, no way was Lan Zhan going to appear at the perfect time to disabuse Meng Yao of his notions that Wei Wuxian might ever want him.

“Wei Ying!”

“Hmm?” Wei Wuxian turned, trying to act surprised. “Oh, hello, Meng Yao.”

“Wei Ying! I heard the worst rumor that someone has been hitting on you.”

“Huh? Oh, you mean Lan Zhan?”

“Lan Zh—Wei Ying! What exactly is going on?”

“I mean, it’s not that serious yet. But it might be.”

“I don’t believe it. You are definitely not his type. Come to think of it, does he even have a type?”

Wei Wuxian tried not to be wounded that his stalker had just inadvertently insulted him. “Well, it’s happening,” he said. “So, he clearly does. He—”

Just then, a familiar blue car drove past them, turning into the lot. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian called, waving to him. “Hi, I’m over—” Lan Zhan parked, got out of his car with a bag slung over his shoulder and headphones pushed into his ears, and walked right past them. “—here.”

Meng Yao was staring at him. Sheepishly, Wei Wuxian scratched behind his ear. “Um. Well.”

The dimples came out to play as Meng Yao grinned. “I see what’s happening.”

“What? You do?”

“Wei Ying, you’re trying to make me jealous, again!” He playfully slapped Wei Wuxian’s arm; actually, it kind of hurt. “That is so adorable, but you really don’t need to.”

“That’s not—”

“I’ll see you later, Wei Ying. Cooking club’s doing an Italian theme this week, how do you feel about fettuccini? Well, just message me if you think of something you’d like better. Bye bye!”

Wei Wuxian almost face-planted right there on the sidewalk. He would never recover his pride. Well, now he just had to find Lan Zhan. That asshole.

*

Wei Wuxian wandered through the poly sci building until the first class period let out, trying to figure out the most likely common area Lan Zhan would have to pass through. Finally, in the midst of the crowd of people switching classes or heading for break, he spotted Lan Zhan on the edge of the courtyard, eating a bag of chips. He jogged over. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan almost looked startled. Must have been a trick of the light. He pulled both of his headphones out. “Wei Ying? What are you doing here?”

“Oh nothing, I was only waiting outside with Meng Yao when you totally blew me off. Did you already forget your promise?”

“I—you wanted to start today? And when were you outside? I didn’t see you.”   

“Didn’t see me, my ass. Look, if you’re going to be my fake boyfriend then you have to actually make some kind of effort.”

“What kind of effort?”

“What kind of….do we need to write a freaking contract? Just flirt with me, in front of Meng Yao.”

“Flirt with you, how?”

“Just how you’d flirt with a girl!”

Lan Zhan shoved the chips in his face. Wei Wuxian swatted them away. “Not now, Meng Yao’s not here.”

“You look hungry. And angry. Eat.”

Sighing, Wei Wuxian took the bag. He perked up as soon as he saw what was in it. “Oooh, I like this kind. Your fanclub really is kind of great, Lan Zhan.”

“Mnn. Ok, I understand, now. I will begin to flirt with you.”

“Thank you, ah—where are you going?” Seriously, why was he always running off like that? Wei Wuxian sighed. Might as well leave, if he didn’t want to waste his entire day chasing after someone who so clearly didn’t want to be caught.

As he started to leave, he tripped and almost fell into a guy juggling an armful of snacks. It was only after they’d both righted themselves that he realized he recognized him, and the guy behind him, too. “Hey, aren’t you Lan Zhan’s friends?”

The one behind scowled suspiciously, but the one struggling to carry all the snacks smiled. “Oh, you’re that guy. Yeah, I’m Jin Zixuan; Mr. Tall Dark and Grumpy back there is Song Lan. What was your name, again?”

“Wei Wuxian. I—”

“How’d you get those chips?” Song Lan interrupted, curtly. “Did you steal them from him?”

“Huh? No, he just gave them to me. They’re from his fanclub.”

“These are from his fanclub,” Jin Zixuan said. “Those were his lunch. They’re his favorite, he just bought them. Well, speaking of it, we should catch up with him before the ice cream bars melt. Nice to officially meet you, Wei Wuxian.”

The pair ran off and Wei Wuxian stared after them, puzzled. But he clearly wasn’t going to make any more gains on the flirting front for now. With nothing else worth doing, he headed off to class.

*

The next afternoon, rain forced Wei Wuxian and the gang inside the cafeteria for lunch. Wei Wuxian preferred it outside, and he remembered exactly why when he looked up to see Meng Yao heading straight for their table. There was no easy way to escape the crowded cafeteria, at least not without walking right past him.

“Wei Ying!” With a perky wave, Meng Yao plopped himself down between Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang. Making a face, he pushed Wei Wuxian’s lunch tray to the side, and presented him with a fancy bento box. “I made you lunch,” he announced. “Much healthier than this reheated stuff. Here.”

With a flourish, he removed the top of the box to reveal a spread of rice and vegetables plated in a cute design.

“Aw, it’s a teddy bear,” Wen Ning said, reaching over to pluck out one of the radish ears. Meng Yao lightly smacked his hand away and moved the lunchbox closer to Wei Wuxian.

“It’s only for him.”

Jiang Cheng snuck below his defenses and stole the radish before Meng Yao could react. “We always share food, it’s the friend tax.”

Meng Yao looked like Jiang Cheng was dirt under his shoes. Wei Wuxian felt mildly ill. “Well…thank you, Meng Yao, but I’m really not hungry.”

“What are you even doing here?” Nie Huaisang groused. “Your faculty’s on the other side of campus and I know you usually take the later lunch time.”

“Our classes were suspended today for the auction. I didn’t want to be there, so I thought, why not use my free time to make my dear Wei Ying something special?”

“Auction?” Wen Ning asked. Wei Wuxian wished he could kick him. Never give Meng Yao a conversational opening. First rule of dealing with stalkers, Wen Ning!

“The hot girl auction.” Meng Yao sighed, chin in hand. “I swear that thing sets feminism back fifty years. But I guess if they want to prance around in skimpy outfits to raise money, that’s their right to choose.”

“Skimpy outfits?” Jiang Cheng squeaked, just as Nie Huaisang said, “Prancing?”

“Yeah, yeah, didn’t you see the flyers? It’s a fundraiser that auctions off donated items, but mostly people just show up to see the girls. So not my thing.”  

“We should go see what they’re auctioning, right, guys?” Nie Huaisang suggested. “Help support our fellow students?” The others quickly nodded agreement, abandoning their lunch trays with unseemly haste. Wei Wuxian tried to follow, but Meng Yao held him by the shoulders, keeping him back.

“Don’t be vulgar like your friends, Wei Ying. Come on, eat your lunch, I know you’re going to love it.”

Ugh, how was it that Wei Wuxian kept getting caught by this guy? Normally he would have just shot him down and moved on with his life, but Meng Yao refused to be shot down. And by now Wei Wuxian was so muddled up that every time they interacted things somehow got worse. Meng Yao was like quicksand, and Wei Wuxian was sinking.

Miserably, he looked to the cafeteria door his friends had just fled through. And there, like a beacon from the heavens, was Lan Zhan.

Please look this way, Wei Wuxian tried to beam telepathically into his brain. See me. Come save me.

Their eyes caught across the room. Then Lan Zhan turned away and headed for one of the buffet lines.

Great. Even his fake boyfriend wouldn’t bother to help him. Wei Wuxian picked at the lunchbox, not actually eating anything, while Meng Yao nattered on.

Without warning, someone threw a plate down on the table. Meng Yao yelped, and even Wei Wuxian jumped a bit, startled. He looked up, and Lan Zhan was there. Very deliberately, Lan Zhan flicked Meng Yao’s lunchbox out of the way, and pushed the plate closer to Wei Wuxian. “Eat.”

“Lan—?”

“Eat. I’m thirsty; is that your drink?”

“Ye—” He hadn’t even got the word out before Lan Zhan had picked up his cup, wrapped his lips around the straw, and drank. It was weirdly aggressive.

“Find me later,” Lan Zhan said, ruffling Wei Wuxian’s hair. He walked off, taking Wei Wuxian’s drink with him.

Meng Yao huffed, incensed. “What the hell was that about?”

Wei Wuxian stared after Lan Zhan. He had absolutely no idea.

*

“What the hell was that about?”

Wei Wuxian found Lan Zhan waiting outside in a quiet corner under an overhang, watching the rain drizzle down.

Lan Zhan frowned at him. “I was flirting with you, as agreed.”

Wei Wuxian snorted as he leaned against the wall next to him. “Seriously? Do you know what flirting is?”

“I saw that in a drama.”

Wei Wuxian laughed out loud. “What kind of drama do you think we’re in?”

Lan Zhan poked his chest, firmly enough that Wei Wuxian rocked on his feet. “The Nuisance.” His pointed towards himself. “And the Handsome Prince.”

Wei Wuxian laughed harder. Lan Zhan was so weird, it almost made up for that disaster in the cafeteria.

“You are so bad at flirting. I had no idea. Haven’t you ever been in love?”

“Mnn.” Lan Zhan’s arms were firmly planted over his chest; he stared out into the distance.

Wei Wuxian gaped. “Wait. You haven’t? Ever?”

Lan Zhan turned his head then, and their gazes caught. It suddenly felt very hot and close, even though they were outside. Wei Wuxian swallowed, giggled nervously.

Lan Zhan broke his gaze away with an exasperated noise. “I’ll work on the flirting. See you at music club.”

*

Before music club broke into the beginner and experienced groups, Nie Mingjue had announcements to make. “Promotions start soon for the concert performed at the Open House for prospective students. Non-club bands will be playing, too, but we want people to show up and cheer for us, so make sure you all promote well. Sign up for rotations before you leave.” He grinned, showing eyeteeth. “Now, for the fun part.”

How did Nie Mingjue always make fun sound so ominous?

He nodded to Yu Yinzhu, who chirpily announced, “Video contest!”

Some of the older members groaned. Nie Mingjue’s eyes glinted. “That’s right, everyone’s favorite activity. All members are required to submit a progress video. Beginners, you can submit a recording of a practice session. Experienced, you’ve all got to perform a full song. They go up on our Facebook page as club promo; each and every one of you will be roundly mocked, even if you do well. Due by next week, no excuses. Good luck.”

Wei Wuxian was still struggling in the beginner group, but this might be the thing that turned things around. If he acted the charming, chic guy he was well enough, maybe he’d be able to distract viewers from how mediocre his playing was.

The thought was enough to carry him through another difficult practice. Yu Yinzhu was very patient, paying him more attention than most of the other beginners, but he could tell that she didn’t really think he had it in him. Still, as practice wrapped up and he bemoaned his blistering fingers, she recommended some brands of string he might want to use to restring his terrible guitar, which might at least help until he developed calluses.

When practice was over, he found Lan Zhan by the snack table. “I’ve been thinking. We should probably spend some more time together if we want this flirting to seem authentic.”

“Mnn. Very logical.”

“So, can you take me to a music store to buy these strings Yu Yinzhu was talking about? My fingers are a wreck and I need something better before I film this video thing.”

“Oh. You just want a ride.”

Wei Wuxian nudged him. “Not just a ride; it’ll give us a chance to hang out. Call it a date.”

“There are no good music shops around here, and I’m not spending all night driving you across town.” Wei Wuxian’s face fell, but to his surprise, Lan Zhan kept going. “I have a spare guitar you can borrow. The strings should be softer, at least.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Just come to my apartment to get it.”

Wei Wuxian beamed. “Lead the way.”

*

Lan Zhan’s apartment was definitely not what Wei Wuxian had imagined. It was only one room. In one corner he kept a futon-couch and two chairs around a small table to form a little sitting area, but this looked rather neglected and unused. The other half of the space was messy and lived in, but kind of sad. Lan Zhan apparently slept on a mattress right on the floor.  He didn’t seem to own a lot of stuff, but what he had was scattered around in messy piles. Posters of various bands covered the white walls, taped directly instead of in frames. If he’d thought about it, Wei Wuxian would have definitely expected Lan Zhan to be the type of person to keep posters in frames.

Apparently something negative showed on Wei Wuxian’s face, because Lan Zhan asked “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing at all, just…your place kind of looks like a serial killer’s lair.”

Lan Zhan scoffed, digging a guitar out from under a pile of clothes. “I promise, you’re safe with me.”

“Exactly what a serial killer would say, to get me to lower my guard. Is this how you attract all your victims? Obstinately refuse to be their fake boyfriend until you can properly lure them in?”

“Anyone ever tell you, you have quite the imagination?”

“All the time. Almost literally. So, that’s the guitar?”

“Mnn. Let me tune it.” He sat on the mattress and started fiddling.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where to sit. The couch seemed too far away, and also somehow like it wasn’t a piece of furniture that was ever really used. But he wasn’t going to sit on the mattress, like he belonged here or something. He ended up kind of hovering awkwardly.

“What song are you going to play for your video?”

“Haven’t decided. Why?”

“Just curious. Hey, you know SCRUBB, right? I saw you played them at the freshman mixer.”

“My senior put that song on the setlist, but yes, I know them.”

“You should play Close. For your video.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s a great song. Do you know it?”

“It’s a difficult song. Are you going to let me finish tuning this guitar some time tonight?”

Wei Wuxian huffed and slipped his shoes back on. “Fine, but I’m starving. I’m going to hop down to the convenience store. Back in a sec.”

Lan Zhan only mnned.

*

When Wei Wuxian got back, Lan Zhan was writing something out on a sheet of paper, but he’d resumed tuning the guitar by the time Wei Wuxian had his shoes off. Wei Wuxian dug through the convenience store bag and offered a canned drink. “Here, I got your favorite.”

“How do you know it’s my favorite?”

“Well, the Wives said so. Did they get it wrong?”

Lan Zhan just stared at him, brows a straight line. And then Wei Wuxian realized what he’d just said. He’d just let slip that he was in that stupid chat group. Shit! His face burned.  

“Do you want to be my wife?” Lan Zhan asked, taking the drink and setting it delicately down on the table. Wei Wuxian was going to melt through the floor.

He stammered inelegantly, eventually managing, “I just joined to get info on you, that’s all.” Lan Zhan did not look convinced. Wei Wuxian swallowed, roughly. Past time to change this subject. “Are you done tuning?”

“I am. I want to use this one to record, though. Sit down.”

He’d already waited so long; what was a few minutes longer? Wei Wuxian perched on the edge of the mattress, checking over his texts and social media while Lan Zhan set up his phone to record.

The intro sounded familiar. Wei Wuxian brightened. “I thought you weren’t going to play this?”

“Mnn.”

Wei Wuxian moved on to his stomach to get more comfortable, and to better see Lan Zhan’s fingers shape the chords without getting in the way of the video shot. Maybe if he watched closely, he would learn how to play it himself.

Lan Zhan began to sing.

“It was too close to say anything. It was too close to see anyone else. It was so close that I almost lost my breath. And we are here today because of that closeness.”

His voice was deep but soft. Pleasant. Wei Wuxian’s singing voice definitely wasn’t as good, but he couldn’t help humming along for the next few bars.

“Maybe you just met me by chance. Maybe we were in the same place by chance. Because you had never experienced that feeling and I had never experienced it either. If we had not started our first conversation that day, we wouldn’t have known the feeling today. Because neither of us knew what it was like, so we had no reason to stop.”

Lan Zhan trailed off, and for a moment they just sat there, as the sound of the guitar faded away. Lan Zhan cocked his head. “What are you smiling at?”

Was he smiling? Wei Wuxian suddenly realized he was sprawled out shamelessly over a near-stranger’s bed, and scrambled to sit up. “Nothing. That was nice, that’s all.”

“Mnn. I’m done. Do you want to walk back to the dorms? It’s a good night for a walk.”  

*

It was a bit of a long trek on foot, but Wei Wuxian didn’t mind. The night air helped him clear his head. Lan Zhan wasn’t much of a talker, but that was okay. Anyway, after about fifteen minutes of walking together in silence, he did come up with a question.  

“Why do you like SCRUBB so much?”

Wei Wuxian smiled, wistfully. “They were my mom’s favorite band. That’s how I remember it, anyway.” Lan Zhan didn’t say anything else, but Wei Wuxian could feel his unspoken curiosity. He gave in.

“Do you want the whole tale of woe?”

“Is it a tale of woe?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “I mean, it’s not sunshine and daisies, but it’s just life. Let’s see: abridged version. My dad died when I was two and a half. I don’t remember him. My mom and I…struggled. There were people who could have helped us, but she was too proud, I think, to ask. Some times were good, but some were hard. She was always playing music, though, I remember that. Especially SCRUBB. When you’re happy, their songs make you even happier, she used to say. I think so, too.”

“Why ‘used to say’?”

“She died. I was six.”

“Oh. My mother, also. When I was six.”

“What, really?” That was a grim coincidence. Wei Wuxian’s heart ached for the little boy Lan Zhan had been.

“Mnn. But my apologies, I interrupted you.”

“Oh, no, it’s no big deal. Anyway. The first time I ran away from foster care, I was kind of a dumb kid, and all I took with me were a few pictures and her cds. I don’t even remember what else I might have left behind.”

“The first time?”

“Oh, I ran away from foster care a lot. I was a real champ at that. Eventually, my uncle Jiang tracked me down; he’d actually been looking for me and my mom since my dad died. Good thing he found me, or…well. Never mind. But that’s it. I like SCRUBB’s music because it makes me feel good, but I guess I like it because it reminds me of my mom, too.”

“Mnn. Thank you. For telling me.”  

“Well we’re getting to know each other, right? I mean…not that that’s going to help with the flirting, but…ah, never mind. I don’t know what I’m saying right now. I must be tired.”

They’d reached the dorm by then. Lan Zhan walked him inside and handed over the guitar he’d carried the entire way.  “Wei Ying?” His voice was tentative.

“Hmm?”

“If I were flirting with you right now…what would I say?”

“I don’t know. Just goodnight, I guess. It doesn’t matter; you’ll never have to take me home in front of Meng Yao.”

“Oh. Well…then, goodnight.”

“Night. See you tomorrow.”

Wei Wuxian took the stairs two at a time, and fell into bed fully dressed, though Jiang Cheng would probably scold him for it later.

*

Jiang Cheng gave him a funny look in the morning but didn’t scold, or actually say anything at all. He just left for his early class, and Wei Wuxian rolled over and fell back asleep.

By the time he made it out for lunch, he felt like he was at the center of some invisible crosshairs. Everyone was staring at him. People he didn’t know, people he’d never even seen. His skin crawled; everyone was whispering as he walked past, or pointing, even laughing.

“Everyone’s staring at me again,” he said as he joined the gang. “What did I do now?”

“Da-ge put up Lan Wangji’s club video.”

“He already submitted it? Man, the rest of us are going to look lazy, now.”

“You aren’t hearing what I’m telling you, A-Xian. He put up Lan Wangji’s club video.”

“And?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “And you’re laying next to him looking like you want to fuck him.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth dropped open. “Nuh uh!”

Nie Huaisang passed him his phone playing the video. And it was…well…okay, in the broad light of day, Wei Wuxian could see an argument for that interpretation. “…I was trying to figure out the chord progression,” he explained, pathetically.

“Everyone who’s seen that video hates you right now,” Jiang Cheng said. “Everyone.”

“Not me. I think it’s cute,” Wen Ning said. “Anyway…Meng Yao will definitely stop bothering you now, so that’s a bright side, right?”

Maybe. So why did Wei Wuxian suddenly feel like something awful was about to happen?

*

At cheerleading practice, he finally stopped getting death glares. His teammates were his friends; instead of cursing the sight of him, they mostly just asked a million questions about Lan Zhan that he couldn’t answer. Yu Jinzhu was a taskmaster, though; she put a stop to it, eventually.

But even she, it turned out, was a lowkey Lan Wangji fangirl, as they all discovered when the man himself walked in to the practice yard and she squealed like a stuck pig.

Everybody squealed. Well, not Wei Wuxian, or his closest neighbor in the formation, Xiao Xingchen, but otherwise it was open season on squeals.

Wei Wuxian lowered his arms. Lan Zhan was visibly uncomfortable with the attention he was getting, but he hadn’t immediately turned to flee. That was new.

“C…can we help you? Yu Jinzhu asked him when she managed to recover herself.

“I needed a break, so I came to watch. It’s not a closed practice, is it? Because my team’s practicing just across the way, and I could hear you.”

“You play football?” Wei Wuxian blurted, as Yu Jinzhu was stammering that no, it was fine, Lan Zhan could spend as much time as he wanted watching them practice their formations. And indeed, it appeared that he did play football. He was in a black uniform—shorts, cleats, the whole deal—and he was all flushed and sweaty.

“Is something wrong with that?” Lan Zhan asked him.

“No, of course not, I just…didn’t know.” It was another thing that seemed incongruous about him. Lan Wangji, participating in team sports?

“It’s good exercise,” Lan Zhan explained, as if he could read Wei Wuxian’s skepticism right out of his brain. “Also…Song Lan and Lan Zixuan made me join.”

At some point, the rest of the cheerleading team had gone off to the side, giving them space to talk to each other without an audience. Wei Wuxian didn’t know why they’d feel like he and Lan Zhan needed the illusion of privacy. He didn’t know why Yu Jinzhu would break her strict rules just so that they could stand here talking about inconsequential things in the middle of practice, either. But he didn’t want to think about it too hard.

“Are they your best friends?” he asked. A proper getting-to-know-you question. For greater authenticity in fake flirting. Entirely logical.

“My only friends, pretty much. I’m not great at connecting with people. Clearly.”

“That’s not true. A lot of people like you.”

“A lot of people like my face. It’s different.”

“Well, I like you. And not for your face.” It was true, he realized, and maybe because it was true, Lan Zhan didn’t try to minimize it or brush it aside. He even gave an almost microscopic smile.

“There is a reason I came to find you. That video, the comments people were putting—”

“Ah, don’t worry about that, Lan Zhan.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

He shrugged. “People will talk about anything. You did well on the song, don’t worry about anything else.”

He couldn’t tell if Lan Zhan was reassured or not. Actually, he couldn’t get much farther than thinking about Lan Zhan’s hair, which was just long enough to have been pulled back with a hair tie. It must fall in his eyes when he played football, otherwise; he must hate that. And he looked unexpectedly good with it scraped back like that…and, oh, hell, why couldn’t Wei Wuxian stop thinking about this? Focus. Focus.  

Lan Zhan was saying goodbye. Say goodbye back, you dummy. Wei Wuxian waved, and watched Lan Zhan walk away. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

*

So, everyone in school thought Wei Wuxian was into Lan Wangji. That didn’t mean it was true. It was good, even, for everyone to believe it; it suited Wei Wuxian’s needs perfectly. He just needed to remember that he and Lan Wangji knew the truth, and not pay attention to the rumors. Easy.

Still, some physical distance might be good for his sanity. So the next afternoon at music club he saw Lan Zhan on the other side of the room, but didn’t approach, as he might have before.

“We’ve had some members drop out, so the faculty board has allowed us to take some transfers from other clubs,” Yu Yinzhu was saying. “Everybody be nice and welcoming. Come on in, guys.”

Well, this was an improvement on things. Two pretty girls walked in. One shyly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, introducing herself as Luo Qingyang, but her more outgoing friend nudged her. “Just call her Mian Mian, we all do.”

Adorable. Wei Wuxian suddenly felt so much better.

“Wait, weren’t there supposed to be three of you?” Yu Yinzhu asked, scanning down her list.

“Here I am! Can’t help it; I love a late entrance.” Meng Yao sauntered in like he owned the club room, and the bottom dropped out of Wei Wuxian’s stomach. Meng Yao, of course, made a beeline straight for him.

Nie Mingjue looked apoplectic. He stomped off to the advanced learners’ room without a word, leaving Yu Yinzhu to deal with the new members.

“Okay, I need volunteers to pair up with the newbies today, until we can get instruments redistributed.”

Wei Wuxian moved towards the girls. “I’ll help—” Meng Yao grabbed his wrist.

“Wei Ying’s my partner. We’re already so close, right?”

“Great,” Yu Yinzhu said cheerfully. “Wei Wuxian, teach him the chords you know, alright?”

Defeated, Wei Wuxian let Meng Yao pull him back.

“What happened to cooking club?” he asked, sulkily, as Meng Yao plucked at the haunted guitar. He wasn’t actually going to teach him any chords, but Meng Yao seemed to be managing on his own, already.

“It was so boring without you. Anyway, I heard someone in this club was bothering you, so I’ve come to protect you.”

“No one’s bothering me.”

Meng Yao’s lower lip jutted out in a pout. “So brave. But you don’t have to keep it from me. I only want to help you, Wei Ying, I—”

“Wei Ying, senior Yu said yes.”

Wei Wuxian blinked and looked up to see Lan Zhan standing over them. “What?” he asked, stupidly.

“Did you already forget, you asked her if you could leave earlier for cheerleading practice? She said that’s fine.”

“Oh…that’s…good?”

“Come on, I have football, I’ll walk over with you.”

Wei Wuxian gratefully let Lan Zhan rescue him. There was no early practice; they both now had a lot of time to kill, but it was definitely better than sitting in close quarters with Meng Yao.

Lan Zhan didn’t leave him when they’d reach the cheerleaders’ practice yard; he sat on a bench and took his guitar from its case. Apparently he still wanted to get his practice time, even after leaving club early.

“Thanks,” Wei Wuxian said, belatedly, sitting down next to him. “You don’t have to stick around to babysit me, or anything.”

“I have seen Meng Yao act this way before, with someone else. I do not like the idea of leaving you alone.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “He’s hardly dangerous. He’s just annoying.”

“Even so. I do not like it.”

“Okay, fine.” With a sudden urge, he nudged Lan Zhan’s foot. “Hey, play me a love song?”

Lan Zhan scowled. “Why?”

“I’ve decided I’m going to spend my free time before practice thinking about Mian Mian. Manifest that shit, right? If I have some thematic background music, maybe it will help. She’s super cute, don’t you think?”

“You are ridiculous. And I don’t know any love songs.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Lan Zhan strummed some repetitive notes. “I suppose you’re the expert.”

“Hardly. But I do try. Flirting protip: learn some love songs. The person you’re flirting with will fall like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Lan Zhan nodded, as if seriously considering this advice. “Do you think someone who’s never been in love can write a love song?”

“Oh, so is that why agreed to flirt with me? So you could get experience to write a love song?”

“Is that what you think?”

“Well, if you did, let me tell you, you lucked out. I am the best person you could have picked to fake flirt with, because I’m so great.”

“And humble.”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Hey, I’ll teach you everything I know. It might not get you far, but it’ll be better than pulling random shit from bad dramas.”

“I said yes because you are special,” Lan Zhan said, shortly. He played a small melody, two times, then three. “There. I just played you a love song.”

“Pretty. Did you write that?”

“Mnn. It is a work in progress.”

Voices interrupted them; Wei Wuxian twisted around to see his cheerleading team converging on them. practice. Lan Zhan packed up his guitar. “See you tomorrow, Wei Ying.”

*

The team was getting ready for their first official event. Just a few more days of workouts and formation practice, then they’d do a run-through in their uniforms, and then they’d be cheering at games every weekend for the rest of the term. Wei Wuxian was looking forward to it, but it did mean Yu Jinzhu had cranked things up to eleven, pushing them extra hard today.

He and Xiao Xingchen made good work-out partners; Xiao Xingchen was quieter, and let Wei Wuxian babble on about whatever he felt like, but he always had a comment or two so it wasn’t like Wei Wuxian was talking at a wall. He was really, really fit, too, which made Wei Wuxian want to work harder to keep up (and also regret all the snacks he ate. Just a little bit.)

In any case, he was glad to have a bit of a breather while counting out Xiao Xingchen’s crunches.

“Six. Seven. Eight.”

“Hi, everybody! So these are the law faculty cheerleaders I’ve heard so much about. Oooh, looking good there, girl.”

Meng Yao again?  Wei Wuxian’s body went cold.

“Eight. Eight. Eight.”

Xiao Xingchen flopped backwards. “You just said ‘eight’ four time. Are you okay?”

“Um.”

“Wei Ying! There you are! You ran off so fast, before, what was that all about?”

Out of ideas ideas, Wei Wuxian curled over on himself and let out what he hoped was a convincing pained sound. “Ow! Stomach cramp! I…I have to go to the infirmary….sorry, Xingchen…bye!”

He hopped to his feet, weaving through the clusters of cheerleaders hoping to lose Meng Yao in the crowd.

He couldn’t go to the infirmary, of course, hoping that Meng Yao would take the bait and switch. So he headed for the bathroom at the football fields. He wasn’t really thinking straight, just get away. He was still looking over his shoulder when he ducked inside the small outbuilding, and he ran right in to someone.

“Wei Ying? What happened?”

It was Lan Zhan. Of course.

“We’ve really got to stop meeting like this,” Wei Wuxian said around an unhinged little chuckle.

Lan Zhan scowled and took him by the shoulders, steadying him on his feet. “Wei Ying?”

Wei Wuxian could scream. “Meng Yao found me again. What is wrong with that guy? You said he’s done this before?”

Lan Zhan’s grip on him tightened, then let up. “Wait for me by the field and I’ll take you home after practice, alright? I think I can get someone to talk to Meng Yao, too. Maybe it will help.”

“Ah, you’re too good to me, Lan Zhan. Sorry I’m being so weird about this.”

“You’re not. Come on.”

But he hadn’t made it five steps outside the bathroom before he stopped again, and Wei Wuxian walked right into him again. “Ow!” Wei Wuxian rubbed his nose, only then looking beyond Lan Zhan. He sighed. “For fuck’s sake, will this never end?”

Meng Yao stood there, arms crossed and body rigid. Behind him, there was an entire coterie of Team Lan Wangji’s Wives, staring them down as an angry mob. He was surprised they didn’t have torches and pitchforks.

“What were you doing in there, together?” Meng Yao asked.

“It’s not any of your business,” Wei Wuxian said. “Please, just leave me alone already.”

“I wasn’t asking you,” Meng Yao spat, viciously. “I was asking him. Just why are you together so often all of a sudden?”

“I—” Lan Zhan started.

The leader of the Wives stepped forward. “Are you dating or not? We deserve to know.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “No, you don’t. If he wants to date someone, shouldn’t it only be the business of that person? Anyway, we’re—”

“Just friends,” Lan Zhan said.

Wei Wuxian felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs.

Okay, maybe technically that was true, but the way he’d said it…

Wei Wuxian glowered at him, but no proper comeback was forthcoming. With a last glare, he started to push through the crowd to get away.

“Wait, Wei Ying, where are you—”

“I’m going home, friend. And Meng Yao, if you follow me I swear to god I will call the fucking police. I’m sick of this.”

*

It had been a mistake to have a fake boyfriend. Maybe Wei Wuxian had always known that; fine, he could admit it. He got carried away with things sometimes. Most of the time. Well, no more. No more putting himself in the crosshairs of everyone’s hate, no more making an idiot of himself over this. He’d hide in his room until Meng Yao forgot about him, if that was what it took. But no more schemes.

The next day, in an effort to clear his head, he walked down to his favorite café. When he went to grab his coffee, the barista popped her head over the counter. “I’m not finished with yours yet; that one’s his.” She gestured to someone with her head.

It was Lan Zhan. Because of fucking course it was.

Vindictively, Wei Wuxian snatched up the cup and took a sip. “He can wait.”

“Wei Ying.”

“Don’t. There’s no crowd to humiliate me in front of now; you don’t have to bother.”

“I’m sorry. There were so many people…I’m not good in front of that many people. I panicked.”

“Whatever. Plan’s off, I don’t need you anymore, anyway. Sorry for inconveniencing you.”

“I can do what you need me to. Really. I will really try.”

“Forget it.” Wei Wuxian suddenly wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed, though he should probably be responsible and show up for his civics class, instead. He thrust Lan Zhan’s half-empty coffee back at him. “I’ll bring your guitar back to music club. See you later.”

*

“You, my very best friend, need a change of scenery,” Nie Huaisang declared, later, throwing his arm around Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

Wei Wuxian smiled ruefully, resettled his backpack. “I need to study.”

“Damn, it’s really that serious,” Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian glared at him.

“Nie Huaisang laughed. “We all need to study, but there’s no law we have to do it here. I heard about a new bistro that has really hot waitresses. Like, supermodel level. Should we check it out?”

“I don’t know, I really—”

“Group vote?”

“I’m in,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Sure,” Wen Ning agreed.

“That makes three to one.” Nie Huaisang steered Wei Wuxian in the direction of the bus stop. “Change of scenery it is.”

It was kind of nice to be in someplace new, someplace where no one knew him but his friends. They ordered drinks and table snacks, and Wei Wuxian settled down to put his notes in some kind of order, happily half-listening to Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng argue about some novel they were both reading and Nie Huaisang tap on his phone.

“Whoa.” Nie Huaisang said. Wei Wuxian looked up to find him staring, goggle-eyed, at his phone. “Guys, this is big.”

“What happened?” Wen Ning tried to peak over his shoulder. “Is that…that’s just some artsy picture of a coffee cup.”

“No. I mean, yes, it is, but look at the account. Lan Wangji just joined Instagram.”

Wei Wuxian had been telling himself for two days now that he didn’t care what Lan Zhan did or didn’t do. That went out the window in an instant. He grabbed his own phone; even Jiang Cheng crowded over him in order to see.

Just one post, and he already had several hundred followers. Nie Huaisang had followed too, of course. Wei Wuxian hovered over the button. But he wasn’t that pathetic. Truly.

As he was deliberating, a second post popped up. A black square with white text. One or two? it read.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wen Ning asked. Wei Wuxian shrugged. He put away his phone, picked up his highlighter again.

“Who cares?”

“Aww, but A-Xian, he joined Instagram for you!” Nie Huaisang sounded practically giddy. “Whatever it means, he’s obviously trying to apologize.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Your imagination is a wild world, friend.”

Jiang Cheng had started to speak, but one of the supermodel waitresses interrupted them. She set two pieces of cake down in front of Wei Wuxian.

“We didn’t order those,” he said.

“I know. The person who did said I was supposed to ask, one or two?”

“Huh?”

There was some kind of commotion at the front of the bistro. Wei Wuxian craned his head; there was a small crowd of girls. He was pretty sure he recognized some of them, and he didn’t want to. Those damn groupies…he really was going to have to stay in his dorm room for the next four years.

And then Meng Yao pushed his way through the crowd. Perfect.

Next to Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng seethed. “Okay, I’m going to beat him up, now.”

“Don’t. It’s not worth it.” Jiang Cheng started to stand, and Wei Wuxian had to grab his arm. “Don’t. A-Cheng. Your mom will kill you if you get expelled for this.”

Meng Yao had made it to their table. He was slightly out of breath. “Wei Ying! Goodness, every place worth going is so crowded these days, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want your cake, Meng Yao. You can take it back.”

A furrow cut through his brow. “Huh? What cake?”

“Didn’t you order—”

“I ordered the cake,” a voice said. Wei Wuxian looked over, and saw the girls part like the Red Sea. There was light coming in through the windows, haloing Lan Zhan.

He really could make a good entrance.

“Now you just have to choose. One or two.”

Wei Wuxian was so confused. “What—I only get one piece of cake?”

“I don’t think you’re focusing on the right thing, here,” Nie Huaisang said.

“One means I’m hitting on you,” Lan Zhan declared, boldly, ignoring their aside. Everyone in the restaurant gasped. Even the two old guys playing cards at a corner table, who clearly had no stake in the dramas of college kids. There was a long beat of silence. Poor Lan Zhan looked like his spirit had fled his body.

“…Two?” Wei Wuxian prompted.

Recalled to himself, Lan Zhan cleared his throat. “Two means you will be hit on, by me.”

He must have gotten that line out of some drama again; it didn’t make any sense. But none of his fans seemed to care, sighing like it was the most profound, romantic thing anyone in history had ever said. And he had said it to Wei Wuxian, which meant that they hated him.

Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh. He almost couldn’t hold it in, only managing at the last second because he didn’t want to hurt Lan Zhan’s feelings after such a display. Also, Meng Yao looked like he was about to have an aneurism, and that might be worth a little embarrassment.

Mind made up, Wei Wuxian picked up a fork and moved both pieces of cake to one plate, then took a bite of both together.

Chapter Text

The Open House concert was three days away, and Lan Wangji and Wei Ying were hustling to pass out flyers to as many people as possible. Lan Wangji had initially chosen Wei Ying as his promotion partner because of the deal they had struck—any organic excuse to spend time together seemed like a good idea—but he had also figured that Wei Ying’s gregarious personality would shield him from some of the attention that followed Lan Wangji whenever he did anything.

He had figured wrong.

Since Lan Wangji’s public declaration that he was courting Wei Ying (that had not been the term he had used, but it was the proper one, nonetheless) more people than ever seemed to be watching them whenever they were together, gawping like they were animals in a zoo. Lan Wangji had hoped that most of the girls, at least, would take their flyers from Wei Wuxian, allowing him to recede in the background himself, but he opposite seemed to be the case. Also, he had suspicions that Wei Ying was hungover; he was sweating rather alarmingly, he kept dropping his stack of flyers, and his skin looked sallow.

“This is so boring,” Wei Ying was in the midst of complaining. He complained a lot. Lan Wangji didn’t particularly mind, but he didn’t want to encourage him, either. “I don’t know why we have to kill so many trees for this. All the announcements are online, and everyone in school knows about them anyway.”

“Nie Mingjue’s wishes. I do not question them; I doubt it’s a good idea for you to, either.”

“Meh.” He massaged the bridge of his nose; almost certainly hungover.

“Have you been hydrating?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Huh?”

Before he could explain, his phone buzzed with a message. Nie Mingjue, summoning him for another band practice. He’d been more intense than usual, these past few days.

“I have to go,” Lan Wangji said, handing Wei Ying his remaining flyers.

Wei Ying pouted, lower lip jutting dangerously. “Lan Zhan, we’re supposed to be working in pairs!”

“I helped you by flirting the other day, you can help me with this.”

“Hah! Are you joking? Your fanclub put a price on my head for that little stunt of yours, it’s been nothing but misery, since.”

“A grand romantic gesture seemed called for.”

“Well, you don’t have to go so grand, next time. Dial it back.”

“If I made you blush, you can just say so.”

Lan Wangji was getting pretty good at flirty banter, if he did say so himself.

He left for practice, but stopped after a few steps. On a whim, he decided to stop in the cafeteria and pick up one of the ridiculous blue drinks Wei Ying liked. It wouldn’t be as good a source of hydration as actual water, but Lan Wangji didn’t trust that Wei Ying actually would drink water, and, anyway, maybe it at least had some electrolytes.

Bearing the drink as a peace offering, he rounded the corner to where they had been working. In the three minutes he’d been gone, Wei Ying had already found a new partner. It was Luo Quingyang, the new music club member he’d been talking about so much, recently. They were standing very close; closer than he and Lan Wangi had been standing. Wei Wuxian’s smile was wide and bright.

Lan Wangji turned and walked away. He kept the drink; took an experimental sip. It was vile.

*

Wei Wuxian was washing his hands in the bathroom when Lan Zhan popped up out of nowhere, like a ghost. He jumped, startled. What the hell, why did they always seem to meet in bathrooms like this? It was getting kind of silly.

“Practice over already?” he asked, to make conversation.

“No, but I badgered Nie Mingjue until he kicked me out.”

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. “That seems unlikely.”

“I can be very persistent when I choose. He was going to keep us all day, and I need to get back. I’m cleaning up my apartment today.”

“Good, your apartment looks like something out of a horror movie.”

“Come help me.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “I’m busy, and I already told you, I don’t owe you anything in return for your ‘grand romantic gesture’. Anyway, I only do manual labor in exchange for getting to touch boobs, and last time I checked, you don’t have any.”

Lan Zhan glanced down at his own chest, looking distinctly pouty.

“What about later?”

“I really can’t, sorry. I’m hanging out with Mian Mian this afternoon; we’re going to listen to music. Then I have cheerleading practice. Sometime in there, I really should find a second to study, too.”

“If you help me out, I’ll let you touch my boobs.”

Now Wei Wuxian had to laugh out loud. Lan Zhan really was too much.

“Just ask your friends to help you, or some of your fans. You have enough of those; you’ll be done in no time.”

*

Nighttime practices were the worst; Wei Wuxian hadn’t had time for dinner, and now, while he was hungry and grumpy, Yu Jinzhu was being meticulous about the weirdest things. She made them all hold perfect formation while trying to get one girl’s fingers to point to her satisfaction.

Maybe he should try to hook her up with Nie Mingjue. Perhaps a love connection would at least get them to stop being so perfectionist with their club members.

Just as Wei Wuxian was constructing the fantasy of what a world of Nie Mingjue and Yu Jinzhu in love would look like, his thoughts were interrupted by a loudly buzzing phone.

He knew right away that it was his. Ooops.

Yu Jinzhu looked like she was about to spontaneously combust. “What is the rule?”

“Phones silent,” they all recited, in unison, like it was one of their cheers.

The damn thing just kept buzzing. Yu Jinzhu crossed her arms menacingly.

“Well? Anyone going to confess?”

Not Wei Wuxian, that was for damn sure. If it would just stop…it lulled to silence, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Too soon; it started buzzing again.

Maybe he could pretend that it was an emergency, Jiang Cheng in the hospital, or something. She’d still kill him, but maybe she’d wait to dismember him until after he was dead.

Xiao Xingchen stood closet to the benches where they had all piled their belongings. Yu Jinzhu gestured to him. “Find me that phone.”

He did in, like, three seconds. Wei Wuxian cringed.

“It’s someone named Lan Zhan?”

Yu Jinzhu turned on a dime. “Lan Wangji Lan Zhan? Who’s phone is this?”

Wincing, Wei Wuxian lowered his arms. “Um. Me?”

“Well don’t keep him waiting, junior Wei. Hurry up and answer!”

Awkwardly, Wei Wuxian took the phone from Xiao Xingchen and walked off a bit to the side. “What?” he hissed in lieu of a greeting.

“Come help me fix up my apartment.”

“In your dreams. I’m still at cheerleading, and we’re probably gonna be here all night. Especially since someone keeps calling and interrupting.”

“You can come by late. I don’t mind.”

“Sorry. Not my idea of a good time. I only work for boobs, remember? Anyway, I’d probably die of starvation right there in your apartment, and then where would you be? Stuck trying to hide my body.”

“Have you not eaten?”

Wei Wuxian pouted. “No. At least music club always has a snack table; Yu Jinzhu doesn’t play that way.”

“I’ll bring you food.”

“Hah, if you bring me food I’ll let you touch my boobs. And help clean your place, too.”

“Deal.” He hung up.

Wei Wuxian scowled at the phone. A goodbye would have been nice. With a sigh, he put his phone on silent (really and truly this time) and jogged back to resume his place in the formation.

Twenty minutes later, a girl down the line screamed. The screams were catching; Yu Jinzhu was about to scold them when she, too, succumbed.

Wei Wuxian tilted his head to look. Lan Zhan was walking towards them with large plastic bags full of food.

Wei Wuxian smiled. He had thought Lan Zhan was teasing him; he hadn’t actually expected him to come.

He stopped in front of Yu Jinzhu. “I…um…”

Poor, awkward boy. Grinning wider, Wei Wuxian hopped out of formation to go save him.

“I told him we were all starving to death and got him to bring snacks. Nice, right?”

Yu Jinzhu looked like she was about to faint. She smiled shyly at Lan Zhan. “So nice. Everybody, should we take fifteen?”

Wei Wuxian took the bags from Lan Zhan and started distributing food. There was one bag of chips that had a note with his name on it; they were the same kind Lan Zhan had given him the other day.

Wei Wuxian could not stop smiling. The euphoria of finally getting to eat, he figured.

When the food was all distributed, he found Lan Zhan leaning against a fence. He shook his special chips with glee. “Thanks.”

“Mnn. You are annoying when you’re hungry.”

He snorted, passed Lan Zhan the bag to share. “You clearly don’t know me well enough, yet. I’m always annoying. Really, thanks, though.”

“So, can I touch your boobs, now?”

Wei Wuxian gaped at Lan Zhan. He was staring rather pointedly at Wei Wuxian’s chest. Right out there in the open where everyone could see them, too.

He gasped and wrapped his arms around himself like a shocked Victorian lady. “That was a joke!”

Lan Zhan’s mouth set into a straight line. “Mnn. It is unfair to joke like that, Wei Ying.”

With a chuckle, Wei Wuxian nudged his shoulder. “By the way, senior Yu wants me to ask you if you have anyone you like. I mean, the rest of them do, too, but she was the only one willing to actually say it out loud.”

“I promised to flirt with you. Why would I have anyone else who I like?”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. “Not me, I don’t count. It’s the Insta thing, I think. You’re not following anyone, and they’re all waiting to see when you will.”

Lan Zhan’s brow furrowed. “What does that matter?”

“You and me need to have a social media crash course, sometime. Seriously. You are supposed to follow people you like. Everyone thinks you finally got Insta because you’re interested in someone; they’re waiting to see who.”

Lan Zhan hmmed, and pulled his phone from his pocket. After a few seconds, Wei Wuxian’s own phone dinged with a notification.

“Wait, what did you follow me for?”

“Is that not how it works? I’ve followed the person I like.”

Okay, this was a moment. They were definitely having a moment. Wei Wuxian stared at Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan was staring back at him, and what was happening right now?

Wei Wuxian was saved from having to think about it too deeply by Yu Jinzhu, who clapped loudly three times. “Okay, break over, everybody get back here!”

Wei Wuxian chuckled uneasily. “Stop messing around. Thanks again for the food. See you later?”

He didn’t stick around long enough for Lan Zhan to reply.

*

After Yu Jinzhu finally released them from practice, she summoned Wei Wuxian over to her. He thought he was in for a scolding about the whole phone thing, but instead she handed him a folded piece of notebook paper. There was something weirdly heavy inside it.

“What is this?”

“Lan Wangji asked me to give it to you.” Her eyes sparkled. She waited, as if expecting him to open it in front of her. It was kind of creepy, honestly. He crumpled the note in his fist and waited until he was back at the dorm to read it, instead.

A key fell to the floor when he uncrumpled the note. This is my spare, Lan Zhan had written. I still need your help cleaning things up. Come by in the morning; let yourself in if I’ve stepped out.

He just would not give up, would he? With a sigh, Wei Wuxian set three separate alarms on his phone so that he could get up to help Lan Zhan in the morning.

“The hell?” Jiang Cheng slurred when Wei Wuxian’s first alarm went off. “z’there a fire?”

“It’s fine, didi, go back to sleep.” Wei Wuxian dressed quickly and went to find an industrial-sized cup of coffee to jolt him awake.

There was no answer when he knocked on Lan Zhan’s door. He waited a few minutes, then, figuring he’d gone out for breakfast already, used the key. Immediately, he could tell that the apartment wasn’t empty. Rather, Lan Zhan was still asleep, sprawled out on that sad mattress in a beam of sunlight cutting through the window.

Wei Wuxian sighed. Lan Zhan, lazier than him? What was the world coming to?

He crossed the room and kicked sulkily at the mattress. “Lan Wangji, rise and shine.”

The sleeping beauty groaned and rolled over. Wei Wuxian scoffed. “C’mon, get up already.” When that got no response, he knelt by the bed and shook Lan Wangji’s warm, bare shoulder. “Lan Zhan, I came all the way down here at the ass-crack of dawn for you, wake up.”

Frustrated, he pulled off the covers, and was confronted with the unexpected fact that Lan Zhan slept with not a stitch of clothing on.

Wei Wuxian shrieked and fell backwards, scrambling to both cover Lan Zhan up and get away at the same time. Lan Zhan finally woke up, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Wei Ying? What are you doing here?”

“You told me to come, idiot. You’re—why are you—you’re—”

Lan Zhan scowled, lifted the blanket as if he’d forgotten he was naked. “Oh. Right. Let me get dressed and we can get started. Did you bring coffee?”

Then he got out of bed without a second’s further warning. Face aflame, Wei Wuxian turned around and waited for him to dress. He couldn’t believe Lan Zhan would be so shameless.

“Uh. Um.” Find something to talk about, something that didn’t allude to nudity. “So…what are we doing to this place?”

“I finally got a shoe rack; help put my shoes up? I’ll start folding clothes to put away.”

Wei Wuxian went wherever Lan Zhan instructed. If Lan Zhan wasn’t going to be embarrassed about it, well, then, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t either. He managed to get his voice under control, and talk about normal things.

“Why are you cleaning up all of a sudden?”

“My family is visiting later.”

“Aw, you want to impress the fam? Sweet. So, who’s coming? Dad, siblings? Or are you trying to look good for your sweet little granny?”

“I do not have a little granny, sweet or otherwise. My older brother recently returned from America, and he’ll be visiting with my uncle. He raised us, for the most part. I’ve let things get bad, here. I do not want them to know the full extent.”

“Ah.” Wei Wuxian finished with the shoes and moved onto a messy pile of cds, looking for an out-of-the-way place to put them where they would stay in some sort of order. “Hey, what’s your band playing at the Open House?”

Lan Zhan named some songs and bands and Wei Wuxian nodded along, pretending to know them. “Do you think you could play Everything? By SCRUBB, I mean.”

“Why?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “It’s a good song. I like it.”

“The seniors already have their setlist. Here, help me change these sheets, I’m tired of the black.” He pulled a white fitted sheet out of a plastic bag, handing half of it to Wei Wuxian.

“You don’t get to pick anything on the setlist?”

“I’ve never bothered to try. I like playing anything. Try it out.”

He was talking about the sheets, then, which Wei Wuxian only realized when he found himself on his back on the mattress. How had that happened?  

He scrambled up to his elbows while Lan Zhan knelt over him, brushing his hands along the sheet. “Nice thread count. I think they’ll do.”

Wei Wuxian sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the sheets. Why, what did you think?”

Oh, and look at that, they were having a moment again.

And then the door opened, and two men walked right in on it.

*

Wei Wuxian was frozen to the spot, but Lan Zhan leapt to his feet. “You’re early!”

The two men still stood in the open doorway. The older one had stopped in the middle of saying something; he was pale with shock. The younger, a tall man with a pretty face somewhat echoing Lan Zhan’s, looked like the cat who’d just got the cream.

“Uh…” Wei Wuxian said, elegantly.

Eventually, they all got settled. Wei Wuxian tried to sneak out, but the smiling younger man dragged him back, while Lan Zhan was busy settling the uncle into the more comfortable of the two chairs, boiling water for tea, and generally being very officious and dutiful.

Lan Qiren was the uncle. Lan Xichen was the brother. And Wei Wuxian wished he had the power to turn invisible.

“Why didn’t you call to say you were going to be early?” Lan Zhan was asking.

Lan Xichen smiled sheepishly. “My fault, I’m afraid. I’m still jetlagged and had trouble sleeping, so I asked Uncle to leave early. I wanted to surprise you. So. Surprise.”

“Lan Zh—Lan Wangji said you’ve been in America?” Wei Wuxian asked, desperately trying to sound like a normal addition to this awkward conversation.

“Yes, I was working in New York for a few years.” Lan Xichen leaned closer to Wei Wuxian, as if confiding. “I don’t think my brother has forgiven me for running off, yet.”

“Stop, Xichen, there is nothing to forgive. Uncle, was the drive down alright?”

“Fine.” The old man looked appraisingly around the room, gaze landing ominously on Wei Wuxian, then skirting away. “What happened to all that furniture you were going to buy?”

“Oh. Well, I have everything I need. I did use some of the money for a guitar, but I put the rest away in my savings.”

“Another guitar? That’s how many—no, never mind. Well, we should at least get some beds. Twin beds will fit well in here, I think, if you move out that old mattress.”

“—Beds?”

“For you and Xichen. He will be living with you, for now.”

“I—what?”

“Surprise,” Lan Xichen said again, rather weakly.

Wei Wuxian really should go. He didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of family drama. The problem was, it seemed like everyone else had forgotten he was in the room, and if he moved now, his cover would be completely blown.

“But, Uncle,” Lan Xichen added, diplomatically, “we don’t need to bother with all kinds of new furniture. This couch will be fine for me. And Wangji, it won’t even be for long, just until I can find a place of my own. So don’t worry. Everything will work out.”

Lan Zhan nodded. Wei Wuxian couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Well, what else was new?

*

Once Lan Qiren left, some unclassifiable tension leaked out of the room. Lan Xichen stretched widely. “I’m starving. Wangji, take me to your favorite breakfast spot. Junior Wei, you’ll come, too, right?”

“Oh, really, I should—”

“My treat, of course. Technically Uncle’s treat, I guess, but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Well, in that case.” He was hungry. And poor.

They walked down the block to a little restaurant and ordered food. Nobody talked much; Lan Zhan didn’t seem to be much more talkative with his brother around than without, Lan Xichen looked too tired to say much of sense, and Wei Wuxian simply didn’t know what to say. Usually, that didn’t stop him, but he knew all about the delicate dynamics between brothers, and he didn’t want to cause any trouble by mistake.

When Lan Xichen excused himself to go to the bathroom, Lan Zhan looked at Wei Wuxian directly for the first time since the interruption of their moment back at his place. “Tomorrow, will you go with my brother to the Open House?”

Wei Wuxian had made plans to meet up with Mian Mian to hang out at the fair and then watch the concert together. He scowled.

“He’s a grownup. He doesn’t need a babysitter.”

“He…I’m worried about him, and I can’t watch over him, since I will be performing. Please.”

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“So? He can meet your friends, too. Listen. If you do this for me, I’ll ask my seniors to play Everything for you.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Lan Wangji.”

“Please,” Lan Zhan said, again.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine. Now you owe me one, though.”

“I owe you two. You came to help me this morning, remember?”

He—oh, crap, were they going to have a moment again? Well, Lan Zhan’s phone buzzed with a text, stopping it in its tracks.

He stood. “I have to meet Song Lan to go over some materials for a class project. Give my brother that key I gave you, alright?”

“You’re just—? Wait!” But Lan Zhan had already slipped out the door.

Grumbling, Wei Wuxian picked at his food. Then he picked up Lan Zhan’s leftovers and moved them onto his own plate. No sense in wasting.

When Lan Xichen joined him again, Wei Wuxian explained where his brother had gone. Lan Xichen nodded thoughtfully, but then a wide smile broke across his face.

“So.”

“…So?”

“You’re the one I’ve been hearing about for a year.” He sounded downright giddy.  

Wei Wuxian choked on his food. So, Lan Zhan did like someone that he liked, after all! “You’re thinking of someone else,” he said. “I just met him a month ago.”

The bright smile slipped. “Ah. Sorry. Jetlagged.”

“Who—” be casual, Wei Wuxian, be casual. “What’s he been saying? About his person.”

“Oh, just this and that. He’s not big on the talking, my brother.”

“No shit.”

Lan Xichen chuckled. “But I can tell when something is important to him. So, then, you’re the one who’s doing the fake dating thing with him?”

“He told you that?”

“He did. Not gonna lie, I think it’s a terrible idea. But he’s stubborn. Once he gets something into his head…”

“You don’t have to worry about him, you know. He’s a good guy. He’s doing fine. And we’ve got it all under control.”

“Mnn.”

“By the way, apparently I’m your date to the Open House tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

Lan Xichen picked up his chopsticks with relish. “Now, that sounds like an excellent idea.”

*

After Lan Wangji and Song Lan had worked out the details of their project, he headed to the music club room to do another run-through with the band. Then he found himself wandering aimlessly around campus for a while. He was curiously reluctant to return home.

He didn’t understand why. He’d missed his brother with a near-constant ache for the past three years. He was ecstatic to see him; he didn’t even mind that Lan Xichen would be staying with him. They could live together forever if Xichen wanted, and he’d be happy with it.

It was the idea that Uncle was forcing it. That stuck in him like a seed between his teeth, because he couldn’t figure out why. Did Uncle want him to watch over Xichen, or did he want Xichen to watch over him? Which of the brothers was more of a disappointment to him, right now?

When he found his feet taking him past Wei Ying’s dorm, Lan Wangji decided that enough was enough, and he had to face Xichen some time tonight, anyway.

First, he stopped at the grocery store. His miniscule kitchen had almost nothing in it; he tended to live on convenience store meals and instant noodles. But his brother deserved better than that.

“Goodness,” Xichen said when Wangji finally made it back. “Did you buy out the store? Where are you going to put all that?”

“I’ll figure it out. We needed fresh groceries, anyway. I only have noodles and tea, here, and you look like you haven’t eaten in three years.”

“Don’t exaggerate. It’s just travel takes it out of me, you know that.”

“Mnn. Nie Mingjue told me to say hi, by the way. So, he knows you’re back.”

“He does.” Xichen gently set down the book he had been reading. “Because I told him.”          

Wangji concentrated on putting food away rather than looking anywhere near his brother. He knew that the finer details of friendships often eluded him; if they didn’t follow a rulebook he recognized, he was pretty quickly out to sea. Still, he had trouble figuring out his brother and Nie Mingjue more than most.

“I thought he was the reason you went to America.”

“I went to America for a lot of reasons. None of them were Nie Mingjue.”

Wangji didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, either.

He’d seen back then that his brother was…restless was a good word for it, he supposed. But it had still blindsided him when one day at the dinner table he’d announced his intentions, and then less than 48 hours later was gone. No answer was going to satisfy Wangji, so he’d never asked for one. Still, he thought he’d understood why. Now, yet again, he saw that he understood nothing.

Xichen sighed, fingers tapping against his chin. Probably he could sense Wangji’s distress; he always had, before. His voice turned playful.

“Stop with that stuff, we can put it away later. Come here. Tell me about your boyfriend.”

Lan Wangji stiffened. “It isn’t like that.”

“Then tell me what it’s like. I heard what he thinks is happening. Now I want to know what you think is happening.”

So Wangji sat down and told him.

*

Campus was a buzzing hive of activity, having been invaded by busfuls of high school students, some hoping to enroll, others just excited to have a day of minimally supervised fun. When Wei Wuxian met Lan Xichen at their arranged spot, he found the young man bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with tote bag bearing the school logo over his shoulder, flipping through one of the school brochures.

“Well, don’t you look collegial?”

Lan Xichen turned that dazzling smile on him. “Good morning. I’ve actually been thinking of enrolling as an adult student. I skipped out on the whole college thing before, but the lack of marketable skills is going to catch up with me, sooner or later.”

“What was it you did in New York, then?” Wei Wuxian didn’t know why, but he’d pictured Lan Xichen as some sort of business prodigy, and he’d just kind of assumed that went hand in hand with a degree.

“Oh, I was—”

Just then, Mian Mian arrived. Wei Wuxian busily made introductions. “Lan Xichen, this is my friend Luo Qingyang. Mian Mian, this is—”

Her eyes were wide. “Lan Xichen? You mean…you’re Steven Lan, right? The model?”

Wei Wuxian gaped. Lan Xichen’s smile turned self-effacing. “At work, I’m Steven Lan, the model. Right now I’m just Lan Xichen the tourist.”

“Wow. My sisters and I have so many of your magazine spreads! We always used to fight over them. Wei Wuxian, you didn’t tell me you knew a celebrity!”

Lan Xichen chuckled. “I’m flattered, but I’m hardly a celebrity. Well, shall we get started? Miss Luo, tell me about your faculty. I’m trying to decide what I’d like to study. Give me your best elevator pitch.”

Wei Wuxian trailed behind them, rather firmly boxed out of his own date before it had even begun. The way Lan Xichen kept looking at him, Wei Wuxian was pretty sure that the man knew he was cockblocking him. Not that he’d been planning on—well. He’d just wanted another chance to hang out with Mian Mian, was all, to get to know her more. She was very cute, fun to be around, and she seemed to like him. But now that she had a real-life fashion model to stare at adoringly, it was like Wei Wuxian had disappeared into a puff of smoke.

When they stopped to buy food from one of the vendor booths, Wei Wuxian managed to pull Lan Xichen off to the side. “So. You really don’t need me to babysit you anymore, right?”

Lan Xichen tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Oh, I don’t know. I get lost very easily. It's not safe to leave me on my own.”

“What do you want?”

“Why, junior Wei, are you trying to bribe me? I just want to get to know my brother’s boyfriend better, is that so wrong?”

“Fake—” Wei Wuxian took a deep breath, tried to settle himself. “Look. I really want to go to the concert with Mian Mian, just with her. What do I need to do for that to happen?”

“Relax. I was actually just thinking, I’m probably not up for the concert. I’m going to head back home to take a nap.”

He made his goodbyes to Mian Mian and disappeared into the crowd. Finally, Wei Wuxian thought, this day was starting to go right.

*

Within five minutes of trying to find the spot where he’d come into campus that morning, Lan Xichen was lost. Really shouldn’t have joked about that.

He wasn’t usually so hopeless, but something about the maze of unfamiliar buildings combined with the crowd of energetic students and his own haze of exhaustion just made his internal compass completely quit. He probably should have followed the mass of people, they’d lead him to an exit point sooner or later, but the exhaustion crashed over him so suddenly that now he just wanted to be alone.

He turned off on to one small quiet path, and then another, leaving the noise of the students behind him. He just needed a place to sit down, take a breath, think.

He hadn’t expected to be recognized. To be called by his English name. Usually, when not kitted out in haute couture with makeup and perfect hair, he was rarely recognized on the street. That was why he’d liked it: he could be one person in front of the camera, and another person away from it. Too, he’d only just left, and his wounds were still fresh. But that girl had known him—the latest version of himself that he’d left behind—and it had completely thrown him into a spiral.

He turned a corner looking for a bench or someplace where he could sit down and found himself in a small alcove. A boy was pacing back and forth there, talking into a phone, occasionally kicking at the brick wall. He looked like he was harrying prey: all coiled energy, the exact opposite of how Lan Xichen felt right now.

“Please just call me back. Please. I know you lie over text, I need to—”

Just then, he noticed Lan Xichen. He hastily hung up the phone without another word, looking like he’d been caught over a dead body, covered in blood.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen said, with his most placating smile. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I’m just lost.”

The boy wiped furtively at his eyes. “It’s fine. Where are you trying to go?”

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to call my sister.”

“Is she alright? I don’t mean to pry, but you seem upset.”

He waved off the concern. “I wouldn’t know, she stopped calling me back weeks ago. Where are you trying to go? I’ll help you find it.”

He clearly didn’t want to talk about whatever was wrong with a stranger. Lan Xichen could respect that. “Is there a good spot to call a rideshare?”

“Sure. I’ll show you the best way to go.” He pushed his way out of the alcove, his arm brushing against Lan Xichen’s. Lan Xichen followed, yelling at himself inside his head.

Lan Xichen had dropped his entire life and run off to America for a good-looking boy. He’d spent the last three years falling in and out of love with one good-looking boy after another. And it was always the sad ones who hit him hardest; he always thought that he’d be the one to fix things for them, make their worlds right.

He could not do this again. He would not do this again.

Still, he could introduce himself, right? It was only polite.

“Thanks. I’m Lan Xichen.”

He was surprised to see the boy’s lip curl and immediately started to replay the short conversation back in his head, trying to pinpoint where he’d gone wrong.

“You’re not related to Lan Wangji, are you? Hate that guy.”

Ah.

“He’s my younger brother.”

The boy sputtered. “Oh. Uh. Sorry. I just—”

Lan Xichen took pity on him, and smiled. “It’s fine. Wangji inspires strong emotions in people. Did your girlfriend fall in love with him or something?”

“My brother did.”

“Ah! So then you must be Wei—”

“Jiang. Jiang Cheng. It’s a long, boring story. But you’ve met my brother?”

“I have. You’re right, the poor kid is head over heels. But I don’t think he knows it yet.”

“Yeah, well, he never was the brightest bulb. Here, if you go to the right this path leads out to a parking lot and you can call a ride to pick you up.”

“Thanks. So…I suppose our paths will probably cross again, don’t you think?”

He was trying to think of a way to get Jiang Cheng’s number without asking for it. Because the new, reformed Lan Xichen did not ask pretty, sad boys for their numbers. But if the pretty, sad boy offered…well, that would be a different story, wouldn’t it?

But Jiang Cheng only laughed, harshly and without humor. “Doubt it. I’m trying my best to stay out of my brother’s schemes from now on.”

 And that was clear enough. For the best, even. Still, Lan Xichen couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret as he watched the boy walk away.

*

Wei Wuxian felt a buzz of excitement in his chest as he led Mian Mian over to the concert stage. He’d always loved live music—even when the band itself was no good, there was something about the energy he got from the people all around. When they’d hung out the other day, Mian Mian had confessed that she’d never been to a live concert—her dad had never let her go, and unlike her sisters she had never been brave enough to sneak out. So now he had the extra buzz of showing her something new.

The first few bands played a lot of American pop songs, mixed with Korean and Chinese songs. There were original songs, too. Wei Wuxian was having fun—he even danced, when the song seemed to call for it. Mian Mian had a pretty laugh, it was a beautiful, sunny day, and Wei Wuxian stopped worrying about anything else. He was just happy.

Yu Yinzhu was the event MC. When the current band left the stage, she hopped up and started introducing Lan Zhan’s band. In the lull, Mian Mian’s phone buzzed, and she walked off to the side for a moment to talk to someone. When she came back, she tugged on Wei Wuxian’s arm until he lowered himself closer to her, to hear.

“I’m sorry, that was my mom. She’s here to pick me up; something came up at home.”

Lan Zhan was just coming up on stage. The fanclub was present and accounted for: screams swelled through the crowd. Wei Wuxian watched the stage wistfully, curiously reluctant to leave. Then he turned back to Mian Mian.

“I’ll walk you to her car.”

Later that afternoon, Lan Zhan met him at the bench they’d agreed on as a meet-up spot. He had a small smile on his face.

“Well? Did you enjoy it?”

“Hmm? Enjoy what?”

“I got my seniors to play the song you wanted.”

Wei Wuxian kicked his legs listlessly. “Oh, right. I thought I heard the intro as we were leaving. Mian Mian had to go early, so I missed your whole set. Sorry.”

“Mia—I thought you were here with your friends, today?”

“Nah, just her. And your brother. It’s such a bummer. She liked that song when we listened to it, I think she would have loved it live.”

“Wait. You asked me to play that song so you could impress a girl?”

“I mean, I also just asked cause I like the song. Thanks for playing it. I’m sure someone took a video.”

The fraction of a smile was gone. Lan Zhan took a long, deep breath. “Wei Wuxian. When I am hitting on you, why are you hitting on somebody else?”

“Fake—hey, don’t run off!”

Wei Wuxian scrambled to follow Lan Zhan’s swift, long steps. He caught up in a few seconds. “Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize you thought I was here with the gang, today. And I’m sorry I missed your set. Can I make it up to you?” They were passing through the food stalls. “I’ll buy you something to eat. What do you want? Meatballs?”

He’d suggested it only because it was the booth in closest proximity, but as he reached for his wallet, the two girls staffing the booth grinned at each other, and then at him and Lan Zhan. “We’ll give you food for free if we can get a selfie with Lan Wangji!” one said, giddily.

Wei Wuxian looked questioningly at Lan Zhan. Free food was free food, right?

Lan Zhan just lowered his eyebrows and walked off in the opposite direction.

Making quick apologies to the girls, Wei Wuxian scrambled off after him, again. “Wait up! Look, I really am sorry. You should know by now that I’m a prize idiot. What can I do for you to forgive me?”

Lan Zhan stopped, looked around. His eyes alighted on the photography club’s booth.

“Come.”

As at every school event, the photography club was taking souvenir pictures for small donations. Lan Zhan handed over some cash, and then he got carte blanche to style Wei Wuxian however he wished. Wei Wuxian didn’t complain as Lan Zhan loaded him up with an itchy, synthetic wig, plastic glasses frames attached to a bulbous fake nose, a feather boa, floppy rabbit ears. If this was what Lan Zhan needed to be able to forgive him, he was fine sacrificing a little dignity.

He could never let Jiang Cheng see it, was all. Or, really, anyone else.

Wei Wuxian gamely stood inside the frame designed to look like a large Polaroid. At the last second, Lan Zhan joined him.

“What, you’re not going to dress up?”

“I think you look good enough for the both of us.”

The photographer took a few shots and handed them to Lan Zhan. They walked over to sit on the steps of the law faculty building, waiting for them to develop.

Lan Zhan smiled as the image of the top picture came clear. “I’m keeping this one.” He handed the others over to Wei Wuxian. “Here, you can do what you want with those, I just need one.”

“Hey, always keep the backups. First rule of blackmail.”

“I’m not going to blackmail you. I just like this picture.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Why?”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you not posing or putting on a show. It’s cute. Special.”

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian shoved the other pictures in his pocket without looking at them. His throat felt tight.

“By the way, where is my brother?”

Wei Wuxian stupidly looked around, as if Lan Xichen would pop out from behind a tree or something. “Oh. Uh. He—”

Just then, Lan Wangji’s phone dinged. He frowned down at it. “When did he go home?”

“Right, right, he did go home. A while ago. He was still wiped out from flying. Hey, is that Nie Mingjue’s wailing I hear? We should go check out his band’s set, right?”

He grabbed Lan Zhan’s wrist and pulled him up, practically dragging him over to the concert and the crowd. He needed lots of people around, needed music to take his mind somewhere else.

Lan Zhan dropped his hand from Wei Wuxian’s grip, but stayed close.

“I’m still mad I didn’t get to hear Everything,” Wei Wuxian said, as they found a spot to watch from.  

“You were the one who left.” Lan Zhan only sounded mildly reproachful, this time.

“I know, I know. Don’t suppose I’ll know anything Nie Mingjue sings, do you?”

“Oh, he’s all about doing original songs when he performs. So unless you’re a big Baxia groupie, I doubt it.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. Well, could be worse.

Though, when Nie Mingue started singing, he wasn’t sure how much worse.

Without warning, something moved in his peripheral vision. Wei Wuxian looked over to see Lan Zhan putting one side of his headphones in Wei Wuxian’s ear.

“Wh—”

I will do everything. I will try every possible way.

“We’re listening to Everything,” Lan Zhan said. “Maybe I’ll get to play it again for you sometime, but for now this will have to do.”

It doesn’t matter who you like, just look at me. That’s it, that’s all it takes to make me happy.

They stood there in a sea of people, listening to a song just for the two of them, and Wei Wuxian smiled.

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan would not stop staring at Wei Wuxian during music club. It was starting to feel mildly unsettling, and not just because Meng Yao was clinging like a barnacle to Wei Wuxian’s side, constantly reminding him of it. “He’s been so odd, lately,” Meng Yao said in that gossipy, chattering way of his. “Really, I’ve never seen him like this before.”

Curiosity won out over Wei Wuxian’s reluctance to hold a conversation with Meng Yao. He knew Lan Zhan had spoken before of knowing Meng Yao, but it had just now clicked in his mind that he might have meant something more than knowing of him in passing.

“Lan Zhan seems like usual to me,” he said. “But how long have you known him? Has he really changed that much?”

“It’s been a while, I guess. Since back in high school. I mostly knew his brother, though.”

“Oh! Then you must have heard—”

Nie Mingjue cut him off before he could mention that Lan Xichen was back in town, calling everyone’s attention to him at the front of the room. “Everyone’s practice videos were such a big hit, Yu Yinzhu and I have come up with a new project idea. This time, you’ll record videos in pairs. Everyone pick a partner; you have a week to get something in.”

Meng Yao glommed onto Wei Wuxian’s arm, and Wei Wuxian realized the tactical error he’d just made in acting almost friendly towards him. Meng Yao started babbling about what kind of song they could perform, while Wei Wuxian hemmed and hawed.

Then Lan Zhan’s voice cut through the noise. “Wei Ying. I’m waiting for you, here.”

Thank god. So what if he’d been staring; he’d come to Wei Wuxian’s rescue again.  

The other groups were doing logical things like talking over songs ideas and practicing, but Wei Wuxian wanted to get this recording over with. He had to cheer at a football game later, and he didn’t want to spend more than one afternoon on the project. So he agreed to the song Lan Zhan suggested and they found an unused room to set up in.

Wei Wuxian obviously wasn’t going to pull his weight on the musical side of things, so he concentrated on making the video look good: positioning himself and Lan Zhan in good light, recording a snappy intro.

“Hi again, everyone. I’m the number one Chic Guy on campus, Wei Wuxian, and this is—”

“Wei Ying’s boyfriend,” Lan Zhan deadpanned.

Wei Wuxian glared at him. “What’s got into you today?” Lan Zhan only shrugged, and Wei Wuxian reset the recording.

“Hi, everyone, I’m Wei Wuxian, and this is—”

“Wei Ying’s husband.”

Well, that escalated quickly. Wei Wuxian sighed and turned off the recording. “Really? I thought you were supposed to be the serious one of the pair of us.”

“I’m always serious.”

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s just run through the song, I can make an intro later.”

But he soon realized that wasn’t a great idea, either. He could hardly keep up with Lan Zhan, and they sounded discordant and strange. Frustrated, he quit in the middle of the chorus. “My fingernails are too short for this. Hey, let me borrow that little thingamajig?”

Lan Zhan scowled. “It’s called a pick. And I only have one.”

“Lan Zhan, come on, won’t it be easier for me to play with that?”

“Probably not if you’ve never used one before.”

“Well my fingers hurt, I don’t care. Here.” He plucked the pick from Lan Zhan’s hand, ignoring his startled look, and went to find a pair of scissors. He cut the plastic in two, dropped one piece in Lan Zhan’s palm. “There, now we both have one.”

Lan Zhan’s ears went red. “It can’t be used like this. Now neither of us have one.”

“Oh. Uh. Ooops?”

Lan Zhan slowly closed his eyes in exasperation. “Perhaps we should not do this, right now.”

“Right. I have to go cheer a game, anyway, so I guess we can get together later.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes flashed back open again. “Which game?”

“Law faculty is playing against Poli—ah, Lan Zhan, do you not even pay attention to which teams you’re playing against? Shameless.”

“I never pay attention to the opponents.” He began to put away his guitar. “Will you cheer for me?”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Bit hard to do, seeing as I’ll be on the other side.”

“Not even one cheer? I’m your boyfriend.”

“Fake—ah, you know what? Fine. How about this: out loud, I’ll cheer for my faculty, but in my heart I’ll cheer for you. Satisfied?”

“I suppose I do not have a choice in the matter, though you don’t sound very sincere.”

“Oh, I’m deadly serious. See you later.”

*

The game was fun. Now that things were real instead of practice, Wei Wuxian felt like his team had really clicked into place, and their routine went smoothly. The action on the field was exciting; Lan Zhan was of course the biggest hit of either team. The Political Science faculty team won—not because of anything Lan Zhan did, but you wouldn’t know that from the way the crowd reacted to his every move.

After the game, Lan Zhan found Wei Wuxian on the sidelines. Wei Wuxian pretended to be outraged. “You’re on the wrong side of the field.”

“I’m thirsty.”

“Then go get a drink on your own side.”

Lan Zhan ignored him. He stole the bottle of water Wei Wuxian was holding and drank deeply. Then he scowled at Wei Wuxian. “What’s with all the makeup? Are you performing an opera later?”

“Hey, I didn’t pick it, it’s just part of the uniform. Give me that.” He snatched back the water bottle.

“Mnn. They make you stand out here in the sun in long sleeves and heavy fabric, and they put a whole face of makeup on top of that? Seems unfair.”

“It’s fine. Will you go? Everyone’s watching us.”

“I thought you wanted them to watch us.” He lifted the hem of his jersey to wipe the sweat from his face; everyone in eyeshot started to squeal. Wei Wuxian held back an eyeroll and a snarky comment.

Then, apparently unsatisfied with just the hem, Lan Zhan took off the entire shirt. Wei Wuxian’s throat felt desert-dry. He scrambled to drink whatever was left in his water bottle.

Lan Zhan threw the jersey at him; he fumbled to keep it from dropping to the ground. “Wash that for me, would you?” Lan Zhan asked, and walked away, half naked and yet uncaring.

“Wh—can you not just go to a laundromat?”

The weak retort fell on deaf ears, but before he’d had time for it to bother him, Wei Wuxian was confronted with a new disaster, as Wen Ning and Nie Huaisang ran up. Nie Huaisang grabbed onto his shoulders, gasping. “Wei—Wei—”

“What the hell? What’s going on?”

“You’re not answering your phone,” Wen Ning managed, as he caught up to them.

“I haven’t turned it back on, yet. What’s wrong?”

“Jiang Cheng.” Nie Huaisang pulled desperately at the fabric of his uniform. “Jiang Cheng got a call from his mother.”

“Fuck.”

“We’ve gotta hurry. It’s bad.”

Wei Wuxian had already grabbed his bag and was headed for the nearest bathroom to change.

*

By the time Wei Wuxian, Nie Huaisang, and Wen Ning made it to the bar, Jiang Cheng was already three or four rounds in.

Usually, they were social drinkers. Just having fun, loosening up, passing the time. But whenever Jiang Cheng talked to his mother he turned…difficult. Sometimes, things were fine. Sometimes, they were really bad.

Today had obviously been bad.

Wei Wuxian sat carefully across from Jiang Cheng at the table. He wasn’t sure Jiang Cheng would want to look at him. If he didn’t, if Wei Wuxian was just going to make things worse with his presence, then he wanted to be best positioned to quickly slip away.

“Hey, buddy, why don’t you slow it down?” Nie Huaisang said gently, nudging Jiang Cheng’s half-full glass off to the side.

“Can’t slow down. Can’t slow down. Gotta go go go go.”

“Go where?” Wen Ning asked, as if the statement had been literal.

Jiang Cheng hiccoughed a laugh. “To the moon. Mars. I don’t care, somewhere no one will ever find me.”

Shit, what had she said to him this time? Wei Wuxian rubbed his palms together. There was only one thing he could think of to do.

“Right. This round’s on me.”

They ordered beer and bar snacks, and Wei Wuxian tried to inject levity into the proceedings so that Jiang Cheng would stop being so miserable. It wasn’t really working; maybe he just needed to let his miseries out. Well, if that was the case, so be it.

“I hate her. I hate her. And Dad never sticks up for me, you know? Just lets her tear me down. Fuck it. I hate him, too.”

“What did she say?” Nie Huaisang asked.

Jiang Cheng swayed in his seat. “Oh, you know. I’m wasting my time with school clubs and parties. Really need to buckle down, Wanyin, really need to focus on your goals, which, oh, by the way, are actually my goals.”

Wei Wuxian laughed without mirth, as Wen Ning asked “When was the last time you went to a party? Have you ever been to a party?”

“Hah! Right! You—you call her, Wen Ning—you call her and tell her what a fucking loser I am.” Jiang Cheng took another long draught of beer, then slammed his hand flat on the table. “Oh! And there was more this time. Did you know, did any of you know, it’s actually my fault that Shijie won’t talk to her? Apparently we’re com—col—conspiring. News. To. Me.”

Wei Wuxian gaped. “What?”

“I know!” Jiang Cheng tipped backwards; Nie Huaisang righted his chair just before it went bottoms up. “Like, doesn’t she know if Shijie conspires with anyone it’s gonna be you? Fuck, I bet you talk to her every day.”

That wasn’t true. Wei Wuxian hadn’t spoken to his sister in…well, awhile. “She’s been busy. She texted a few days ago. Wait, why is your mom getting on your case about that instead of Yanli’s?”

“That’s what I’m saying! Shijie is the good one and you’re the bad one and I’m the overlooked one. That’s our thing. That’s the deal. Why isn’t anyone sticking to the fucking deal?”

After that, things devolved. Soon enough, Jiang Cheng decided that sitting around wailing about his mom wasn’t good enough, he had to be a man of action. He sprang from the table, unsteady on his feet. “Gotta go find Shijie,” he announced. “Gotta go now.”

The three of them tried to wrestle him down, and it made him turn belligerent, trying to push his way free. Somehow, he lost a shoe, and it went flying across the room. Wei Wuxian managed to get him back in his seat. “I don’t feel like getting kicked out of here today. Just sit and drink, we’ll find Shijie later, okay?”

“Promise?”

“I—”

Someone slammed Jiang Cheng’s shoe down on the table. Wei Wuxian looked over and started. The shoe-bearer was Song Lan, looking thunderous. Behind him stood Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan.

“Oh, why aren’t you on my foot?” Jiang Cheng addressed the shoe. He looked down at his feet, then reached for the shoe, fumbling.

“What are you doing?” Song Lan asked. He probably meant to ask what were they doing throwing shoes around inside decent establishments, but Wei Wuxian answered in general. “Handling a crisis. What are you guys doing?”

“Celebrating our victory, of course!” Jin Zixuan enthused. He had definitely turned the corner on tipsy and was headed straight to wasted. Where the others stood on the drunk scale was harder to tell. “Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” he proposed. “Let’s all share a table, friends of my friend. To friends!”

And so with that all seven of them squeezed around a single table, and more beer and bar snacks were brought, and Jiang Cheng’s audience for his misery had suddenly doubled.

Jin Zixuan somehow missed the memo that Jiang Cheng was incoherently yelling about his mother, so he sat at the head of the table expounding on rules for romance, instead. Song Lan and Wen Ning started a contest trying to one-up each other, draining drink after drink in eerie silence. The sloppier Nie Huaisang got, the more he tried to drag girls into their orbit, asking them to rate Jin Zixuan’s love rules or asking them to take pity on Jiang Cheng. And Lan Zhan stared at Wei Wuxian.

He didn’t seem to be drinking at all. He just stared. And stared.

And so Wei Wuxian drank. And drank. And when Lan Zhan was still just sitting there, staring, he decided it was a great idea to drink some more.

Later: were they leaving on their own, or had they been kicked out? Hard to say. Lan Zhan wrangled them as they tried to pull him in six different directions, scolding no, you cannot drive, Song Lan, no, Nie Huaisang, if you try to pee there you’ll get arrested for public indecency. Wei Wuxian’s skin was flaming, he was so hot, but the fresh air felt nice. The stars were all spinny. Lan Zhan’s eyes were like the blackness between stars. Oooh, poetic. Maybe he should put that in a song, and become the hit of the music club.

“What are you muttering?” Lan Zhan asked, and Wei Wuxian realized he had said something about black star eyes out loud. Whoops.

“H—how did I get here?” Wei Wuxian asked. His arm was slung across Lan Zhan’s shoulder. His really nice, broad, muscle-y shoulder. Elsewhere, Wen Ning was carrying Nie Huaisang on his back, and Jin Zixuan was stumbling in loopy figure eights around Jiang Cheng and Song Lan.

“We haven’t gotten anywhere,” Lan Zhan said. “We’re still doing the going. We’re walking back to your dorm.”

“Oh. That’s good. Wait!” He stopped abruptly, tried to turn back in panic. “Jiang Cheng’s shoes!”

Lan Zhan caught him about the waist, steadied him. “Are on his feet. Everything’s okay. Come on. Almost home.”

Later: no telling how much later, they made it to the dorm. The fluorescent lights were violently bright. Through much trial and error, they reached the stairs.

Wei Wuxian tripped, and Lan Zhan was reaching to help him stand again when Jiang Cheng rounded the landing. Something dark crossed his face, and without a word he kicked out straight for Wei Wuxian’s face.

It was a glancing blow—they’d had worse between them—but everything was suddenly chaos in the stairwell as some people tried to pull Jiang Cheng back and some tried to keep Lan Zhan from decking him. “It’s your fault,” Jiang Cheng was saying. He sounded like he was about to cry again. “It’s your fault. I’d be enough if not for you.”

Wincing, Wei Wuxian rubbed at his jaw. He let the others drag Jiang Cheng up the stairs and away; let him get put to bed before they had to look at each other again.

“What was that?” Lan Zhan asked. He looked homicidal, but when he reached out to touch Wei Wuxian’s jaw he was gentle, just barely brushing his fingers against the skin.

Wei Wuxian winced again. “Ah, nothing. He gets mean when he’s too drunk, it will blow over.”

“What is your fault?”

“Ah…I really don’t want to talk about that, Lan Zhan, ok? Uh…thanks for walking us home.”

Song Lan and Jin Zixuan, done with settling the others, came tumbling back down the stairs. Lan Zhan did not follow them, staying right where he was. Wei Wuxian raised a hesitant eyebrow, unsure of how to proceed.

“So. Uh. Goodnight?”

“I can’t leave. I….I left my car at the bar.”

“You can’t walk back?”

“My keys. Song Lan has my keys.”

“They literally just walked out the door, you can still catch them.”

“Can’t. And I can’t call my brother, because my phone’s dead, so don’t even suggest it.”

“Right. Well…you want to stay the night here, then?”

He almost smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*

All three of his friends were passed out around the room, including on his bed. With a sigh, Wei Wuxian dragged a blanket over Wen Ning, curled up awkwardly on the floor. He turned apologetically to Lan Zhan. “Let’s go outside? I’m too keyed up to sleep anyway.”

“Fine by me.”

Wei Wuxian opened the door to their small balcony and pushed the laundry rack to the side. Lan Zhan followed; he’d found the guitar he’d leant Wei Wuxian and brought it out with him.

“What, are you going to serenade me?”

“If you would like.”

They sat together on the flimsy bench seat and Lan Zhan plucked listlessly at the strings. And then he actually did start to sing.

I never thought I would have such a great day with you by my side like this. I instantly felt it the second we met. It’s like there was something.

Like there was something…Wei Wuxian ached, and he didn’t think it was just from his brother’s outburst, or his incipient hangover.

What do you think of me? He wanted to ask Lan Zhan. Just what am I to you, really?

But he was afraid to hear the answer. Afraid that he wouldn’t like it…or maybe even more afraid that he would.

“Is it true you’ve really never had a girlfriend?” he asked instead.

Lan Zhan stiffened. “Did my brother tell you that?”

“I kind of just assumed. So….no girlfriend? What about a boyfriend?”

He was pale, his fingers clenched tightly around the neck of the guitar. And he wasn’t answering.

“Well…how about this? What kind of person do you like?”

Silence.

“Pretty? Or smart? Or cute?”

“No, none of that is exactly right.”

Wei Wuxian’s nose scrunched. “Picky. That’s gotta cover, like, most people. You must like people who are really weird, then.”

“Yes, the person I like is quite weird.”

He was doing the staring thing again. Well….he had really never stopped, but suddenly it felt like something tangible between them, something Wei Wuxian could just reach out and…

The balcony door crashed open and Jiang Cheng stumbled out, tugging at his zipper, grumbling that he had to piss.

Wei Wuxian leapt to his feet. “Whoa, whoa, didi, you’re outside. Don’t you dare piss off the balcony. Come on. Bathroom. Come on, come on, follow me.”

He didn’t look back at Lan Zhan. He was too scared to. 

*

Wei Wuxian’s pillow was not usually so firm. He groaned, trying to snuggle deeper. He knew that if he woke up he’d have a monster of a headache; he just wanted to sleep until it all went away.

Except, all at once, he realized that he was not lying on his pillow.

He was lying on Lan Zhan.

With a startled yelp, he jumped up, scrambling back. Lan Zhan was just sitting there, right on his bed, looking perfect. He didn’t have bed head or anything. He probably didn’t even smell; meanwhile, Wei Wuxian in last night’s clothes reeked of sweat and stale alcohol.

“Wh—wh—what are you still doing here? Where did everyone else go?”

“I wanted to have breakfast with you. The others have all left.”

Food didn’t sound particularly appealing just then, but Wei Wuxian didn’t argue, just collected himself for a quick shower. A very cold one.

Lan Zhan was still waiting patiently when he came back out. Wei Wuxian was only in a towel: he and Jiang Cheng walked around half-naked all the time, and he hadn’t even thought about it. But the way Lan Zhan stared at his bare chest immediately made him shy.

“What?”

“Can I—” Lan Zhan made a grabby gesture.

“No! You pervert!”

“Not fair, Wei Ying.”

He sounded so disappointed that it all suddenly felt very silly. Wei Wuxian held back a giggle. “Go have a quick wash up and then we’ll go eat, okay?”

This also gave him a minute to dress in peace and not think about the way the boy kept staring at him.

*

“I have news to share with you,” Lan Zhan announced, as Wei Wuxian was tucking into his meal. “I meant to say last night, but there were so many distractions.”

“Oh? What’s up?”

“SCRUBB will be performing here next month, and the band I play with has been chosen to open the show.”

“Hey, that’s great! You can get me autographs. And you’ll be famous.”

“Doubtful. But I will be very busy. Between class and practice, I probably will not have much time for our flirting project.”

“Damn. So sad.”

“You are not a gifted actor, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. “Seriously, though, it’s exciting. Good job. Question, though. Why is it always ‘the band you’re playing in’ instead of your band?”

“Because it’s not my band. They needed an extra guitarist to fill in and Nie Mingjue recommended me, that’s all. I’m just an extra set of hands.”

“You should give yourself more credit. You’re really talented, and I bet the other members think of you as more than an extra guitar, too.”

“Mn. Thank you.”

Wei Wuxian winked. “Hey, flirting goes both ways, right? Gotta do my part before you leave me all on my own.”

“Speaking of that. Don’t you dare flirt with anyone else or cheat on me.”

“I can’t cheat on you; we’re not really dating.”

“I’m serious. If I hear about you flirting with someone else, I will punish you for each instance.”

“Punish me? What the fuck, Lan Zhan?”

“Every time you flirt with someone else, I get to touch your boobs. Just remember that.”

Wei Wuxian burst into laughter. “You probably want me to flirt with the whole school, then. Weirdo.”  

*

Jin Zixuan had always found a walk outdoors to be the best recovery from a night of drinking. He had a mild headache today, but all things considered, given all he’d been up to last night, things could be much worse. A walk in the sun was all that he needed.

Passing a bench, he noticed a pretty girl scribbling notes in a paperback book. Well, he was at loose ends with nothing to do than walk through the park…why not give it a try? Smiling, he slid onto the bench next to her.

“What’s your book about? You look fascinated.”

She hummed, uninterested. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He was about to slip away when she actually looked over at him.

“Oh, Jin Zixuan! Hi.”

He scowled, trying to place her. “I—do we—?”

“We met at the bar last night.” Her eyes glinted flirtatiously. “Wang Lingjiao. Don’t say you’ve forgotten already?”

“Ah…well…”

She laughed. “It’s fine. You and your friends were really tying it on. Glad I ran into you again, though.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” She fanned through the pages of her book thoughtfully, then looked at him again. “Jin Zixuan…how would you like to visit heaven?”

That had to be one of the strangest pickup lines he’d ever heard. Charmed, Jin Zixuan agreed.

*

‘Heaven’ turned out to be a self-help seminar, helmed by the author of the book Wang Lingjiao had been writing so fervently in. She got extra points for bringing along a potential recruit for the program, which seemingly added up to her eventually being able to meet the guru. She watched the stage with rapt attention. Jin Zixuan sat stiffly next to her, uncomfortable, trying to think of a way to leave.

It was a bunch of New Age-y nonsense, frankly. Kindling the inner fires of your potential, striving to become children of the sun. Fairly excruciating stuff, on top of which Jin Zixuan felt distinctly like he had been duped, on top of which, he still had a bit of a hangover. Worst day ever.

Finally, he decided to just excuse himself for the bathroom where he would hopefully be able to make a runner for the exit. He stood to leave, and ran right into a woman.

Possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

Her eyes went big in her delicately-featured face. “Oh! Is—is this seat free?”

Jin Zixuan had lost all power of speech. All he could manage was a weak nod, and he sat right back down, so the woman could settle in next to him.

She pulled out a notebook but didn’t jot down any notes about the battle for inner fire. Instead, she tapped the end of her pen against her teeth. There was a lot going on around him, but all Jin Zixuan could hear was that click, click, click.

He wanted to ask her name. He wanted to take her out for coffee and laugh about how bad this seminar was. He wanted to ask her to marry him and have his babies. It was like the sky had fallen down and split his life into pieces: Before Seminar Girl, After Seminar Girl.

But when a break was announced, she stayed seated and Wang Liangjiao dragged him out the other way.

Jin Zixuan got Wang Lingjiao a cup of lemonade when she asked, and then he listened to her expound on the beauty of the lecture, and then he realized that he was being an idiot. There was no law that he had to be polite to her, or stick around when he didn’t want to be there.

So he made up a transparent excuse about having dropped his phone and ran back into the lecture hall. Just get her name, just get her name…

There was an old man sitting where she had been. “Oh.” Jin Zixuan stopped, confused. “Wasn’t someone else sitting here?”

“The tourist?” the old man scoffed. “She left.”

“Tourist?”

“She hits every speaker on the circuit, goes to all the retreats and seminars, no matter what they are. Everyone I know has seen her somewhere. But she doesn’t seem to really believe in anything. Shameful.”

Jin Zixuan wasn’t going to engage with this judgmental stranger. Scowling, he decided to just go, but the man called him back. “Wait.”

“What is it?”

He held up a pen. “She left this. Did you want it?”

It was only a black pen: no identifying marks, nothing that could help him find her. Still, Jin Zixuan took it.

*

When a knock sounded on his door, Lan Wangji did not expect to find Jin Zixuan on the other side. His friends never visited him at home—though they socialized around school and sometimes went out together as well, all three of them were pretty private when it came to their personal spaces. They weren’t they type of people to just pop by for visits unannounced.

Before Lan Wangji could process any of this, however, Jin Zixuan held up a bag of snacks. “I bring offerings. And an apology.”

“Apology? For what?” Lan Wangji could not think of a single time when Jin Zixuan had slighted him. Unless he was worried about something he had said last night at the bar…but, then, Jiang Cheng had taken up most of their attention during that mess.

“I’m sorry I made fun of you back then. I know how it feels, now.”

“How what feels?” Was Jin Zixuan perhaps drunk again?

“I met my true love.” Jin Zixuan lolled dreamily against the doorframe. “It was exactly like you said.”

“Ah. Well, come on in. Who are they?”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem.” He took a pen from his pocket and sighed over it. “She disappeared, and this is all I have. I have no idea what to do. It’s terrible.”

This was not a problem Lan Wangji was equipped for. “Perhaps my brother can help,” he suggested, taking the bag of snacks and bringing Jin Zixuan inside.

*

When Wei Wuxian was walking to music club, he caught sight of Mian Mian sitting out on the landing. She was struggling with the haunted guitar. He went over to sit by her. “What’s up?”

“Does this sound right? I can’t tell if it’s out of tune or if I’m just terrible.”

He couldn’t either, but having been in the club an entire two weeks longer than her, he felt like he should take something of a leadership role.

“I’ve actually been meaning to go buy new strings for this guitar and just take it out of the club budget later, but I keep getting sidelined by other things.”

“Well, do you have time now? I was thinking of buying my own guitar. We can go to a music store together.”

Faced with the choice between an afternoon of dodging Meng Yao or going into town with Mian Mian, Wei Wuxian quickly decided that it wasn’t a choice at all. Anyway, it wasn’t flirting, he told himself. He was just being friendly. Lan Zhan would never know about it, and if he did…well, who cared? It was no big deal.

So they ditched club and took a bus into town. Wei Wuxian bought the type of strings Yu Yinzhu had recommended, as well as some replacement picks for Lan Zhan, while Mian Mian found a helpful employee to help her figure out a good beginner guitar. They went to grab some food, and then just walked around for a while, talking about their respective classes and interests.

“Will you record the group video with me?” she asked on the bus ride back. “I was going to do it with my friend, but she diched me for another partner.”

“Sure, if I’m going to keep up with Lan Zhan I’ll need all the practice I can get. I have a cheerleading thing tomorrow, but the day after? I know it’s cutting close to the deadline, but—”

“That’s fine. Thanks for all your help.”

Wei Wuxian smiled at that, and kept smiling all the way back home.

*

As part of being on his faculty’s cheerleading team, Wei Wuxian had to show up at qualifications for the University team. He didn’t really want to do it—if he made it, it would mean more time commitments and competition with people who were all as serious as Yu Jinzhu—but he didn’t get to skip out. So he got in his uniform and did his makeup and went down to the campus cultural center to, mostly, sit around and wait while the members of each faculty team were scrutinized.

It was a lot of sitting around and waiting. His phone died within an hour and he was bored out of his mind. He was even glad to see Song Lan and Jin Zixuan when they happened by. Their last meeting had been awkward, but Jin Zixuan called out “Friend of my friend!” in a joking way, and Wei Wuxian figured that any awkwardness had passed.

“Did Lan Zhan send you to check up on me?”

“Nah, we’re here to check out hot cheerleaders,” Song Lan said.

“You may be here to check out hot cheerleaders,” Jin Zixuan said. “I am a newly committed man in love.”

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow as Song Lan scowled. “You’re delusional, is what you are. Junior Wei, help me find a girl to convince this fool that he can’t fall in love with a person he doesn’t know from one look.”

“Uh….”

Jin Zixuan waved off his friend’s disdain. “Never mind, never mind. Here, Wei Wuxian, you look good today; let’s take a selfie.”

Before Wei Wuxian could think of how to respond, the picture had already been snapped, and Song Lan and Jin Zixuan were leaving.

Wei Wuxian settled in to wait some more.

Before twenty minutes had passed, Lan Zhan came through the double doors. Wei Wuxian crossed his arms, unamused.

“Aren’t you super busy with practice?”

“I had some time.” He held up his phone, displaying Jin Zixuan’s Instagram feed and that shiny new selfie. “Saw you were here, so…”

Wei Wuxian grumbled. “All these pretty girls and they wanted to take a selfie with me? I knew those idiots were messing with me.”

“Messing with you, or messing with me?” Lan Zhan asked under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Do you have much left to do, here?”

“My evaluation’s over, I just have to wait.”

“Take off that makeup, then. You look uncomfortable.” Lan Zhan reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of makeup remover and a cotton round.

Wei Wuxian frowned.  “You carry makeup remover in your bag?”

“I have to wear it on stage and I hate it, so, yes. Here, sit still, would you?” He brushed gently at Wei Wuxian’s face. His touch made Wei Wuxian tingle; uncomfortable, he pulled away abruptly.

He was saved from having to figure out what to say by Yu Jinzhu coming out to announce the team advancements. He lost track of Lan Zhan in the shuffle, and by the time he thought to look for him, he was gone.

*

Mian Mian had picked out a simple children’s song to play for their group video. They set up in the empty club room, and were working on their third run through, having trouble playing because they kept breaking down in giggles, when the door opened. Wei Wuxian looked over, and Lan Zhan was there.

For a moment, all three of them were frozen. Then Lan Zhan turned around and left.

“What was that about?” Mian Mian asked.

Wei Wuxian shrugged. He was just hanging out with a friend; it wasn’t like he was doing anything illicit or wrong.  If Lan Zhan had some problem with that, then that was his problem.

Still, he couldn’t help feeling guilty about it, and he couldn’t figure out why.

Later, he was gathering clothes to take to the basement laundry when he found Lan Zhan’s football jersey. Frustrated, he threw it across the room. He didn’t understand how Lan Zhan could seem so brazen one second, laying claim to him in public and saying such flirtatious things, but then the next second would just completely shut down and shut him out. He couldn’t figure Lan Zhan out at all. And he wanted to, more than he was comfortable admitting.

With a self-deprecating sigh, he went to collect the jersey again, along with the rest of his and Jiang Cheng’s dirty clothes. His phone dinged with a notification, and he sat down on the bed.

On Lan Zhan’s Instagram feed, someone had posted a picture of him passed out, face-down on a table. “This fool gets like this after one drink!” the caption read. “Well, now I’ve got his phone.” It was signed Song Lan.

Wei Wuxian bit his lip. So…Lan Zhan was dead-to-the-world drunk. Why? And why did Wei Wuxian care, anyway?

He was still working through that when another notification came through. “Just for fun: here’s his entire camera roll.” And a series of posts came through, one after another.

Every picture was of Wei Wuxian.

He felt his stomach knot.

A final post came through. It was a random series of symbols that looked like a cat had walked over a keyboard.

Wei Wuxian turned off his phone.

*

“Did you have a fight with Lan Wangji?” Nie Huaisang asked, instead of saying hello.

Wei Wuxian bristled at the scolding tone. “No. It would be easier to fight with him. He won’t even talk to me.”

“Oof,” Jiang Cheng said. “What terrible thing did you do now?”

“I didn’t do anything! Aren’t you guys supposed to be on my side?”

“We’re just trying to figure out why he’d go get drunk like that,” Wen Ning said. “Song Lan told me he doesn’t ever drink. So something must have happened.”

“He fell for the most obtuse person on the planet, that’s gotta wear on a guy,” Jiang Cheng said.

“He didn’t fall for me. It’s fake.”

“His camera roll begs to differ.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. He was not having this discussion. He passed Nie Huaisang a post-it where he’d written down the weird code. “Here, do you recognize this? Do you think it means anything?”

“It looks like a math equation,” Wen Ning commented. “Would drunk Lan Wangji flirt with math?”

“Let’s try googling it,” Nie Huaisang said. He started typing, but had forgotten to change the input language and when the search bar autofilled, the incoherent symbols turned into an English sentence.

“Wait, wait, stop.” Wei Wuxian said with a frown. They all stated at the screen.

“‘I loke you.’” Nie Huaisang pronounced. “Loke?” 

“Did Song Lan write that, or Lan Wangji?” Wen Ning asked.

“What did I tell you?” Jiang Cheng asked. He poked Wei Wuxian in the neck. “Most obtuse person on the planet.”

Fuck. Wei Wuxian was in so much trouble.

*

So, did Lan Zhan like him? If so, why? And how? And why?

The thing was…they were friends. Sure, things had started out rocky, but Lan Zhan was fun, and smart, and he’d really helped Wei Wuxian out, over and over. Wei Wuxian liked him. But he didn’t like him.

Did he?

Jiang Cheng, clearly fed up with Wei Wuxian’s internal crisis, had decamped to the library to work on a paper, leaving Wei Wuxian to pace back and forth in their room, trying to figure this out. He’d even texted his sister; he didn’t say anything specific, but just that he needed her advice. She hadn’t gotten back to him.

Someone knocked on the door; Wei Wuxian opened it to find Lan Zhan, glassy-eyed and barely standing.

“What the hell. What’s wrong with you?”

Ok, maybe the first thing Wei Wuxian said to him in days shouldn’t sound so mean, but he couldn’t help it.

Lan Zhan didn’t even seem to hear, in any case. He pushed past him into the room. “Need my football jersey.”

“Here, all washed and neatly folded. How much did you drink? Are you okay?”

“Fantastic.” He spotted his guitar and made a beeline for it. “Right, I forgot, we have to record our video. Time’s wasting. Nie Mingjue wants it chop chop.”

He grabbed the guitar and half-sat-half-fell onto the bed, immediately launching into something fast and angry. Wei Wuxian sighed and sat next to him, trying to get him to stop playing. “Here, put this down. Lan Zhan.”

“Wei Ying.”

This back and forth…he had to put an end to it. Wei Wuxian wished he could go back to the way things had been before he met Lan Zhan. Easy. Uncomplicated. He wanted that back. He needed that back. If Lan Zhan couldn’t be just his friend…then it was better that they were nothing to each other. Right?

“I’m going to ask Mian Mian out,” he blurted. “For real.”

Lan Zhan went deathly still. Wei Wuxian rushed to keep filling the silence.

“I’m sorry I got you into all of this, but I’m realizing it was too much, and I think it’s time we put an end to it. Don’t you?”

“Am I supposed to act heartbroken?” Lan Zhan asked. His voice was sharp.

“What? No, I—”

“Should I cry? Is that what you want from me?”

“Of course not! It’s not about you, I just want to go back to how I used to be. Have a girlfriend and stop feel—”

Lan Zhan cut him off, then, lips to lips.

It was not a gentle kiss. It was not tentative or soft. It was desperate, eyes-open. Wei Wuxian’s heart was going to burst through his chest.

“You are reserved,” Lan Zhan said, firmly, when he finally pulled away.

Chapter Text

“You are reserved,” Lan Zhan said. His eyes were glassy but intense. “You’re taken.”

And then he promptly slumped over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

Wei Wuxian sighed. He didn’t know if he was relieved or horrified. Probably both.

That had definitely been a kiss. (But Lan Zhan was drunk.) But it was still a kiss. (Not the greatest kiss Wei Wuxian had ever had, for sure. But not the worst, either.)

Nope, time to put this all in a mental box, he was not thinking about it. Now, or possibly ever.  

When a few tentative pokes failed to revive Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian resigned himself to his unexpected houseguest. He took off Lan Zhan’s shoes and socks, wiped his face, and settled him under the covers of his own bed. He took Jiang Cheng’s bed for himself; his brother would either wake him up when he got home, or crawl in with him. If he came home, that was. He’d been…well, Wei Wuxian had lost track of his brother, lately. He’d have to address it soon, but there’d just been so many things crowding up his head, and if Jiang Cheng wanted to avoid him…

Thinking about all of this was not going to help him get to sleep, either. Wei Wuxian turned off the light and listened to Lan Zhan’s deep breathing until he managed to shut off his brain.

He woke to bright afternoon sunlight and Jiang Cheng shaking him roughly. “Hey, asshole, are you alive?”

He rubbed at his eyes. “What time is it?”

“One,” Nie Huaisang said, causing Wei Wuxian to fully sit up, since he hadn’t realized Jiang Cheng had brought the others along. “You missed class again.”

“Don’t worry, I took notes,” Wen Ning reassured.

Wei Wuxian’s mouth was dry. “Oh. Ok. Thanks?”

“So,” Nie Huaisang said, slyly, “How is Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian’s face warmed. “Huh? I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t seen him, lately.”

“Oh? Then how’d his wallet get here? And his phone?”

Wei Wuxian scrambled out of bed and snatched the offending items from Nie Huaisang, stuttering something unconvincing. Then his brother delivered the killing blow.

“He left a note, too.”

Wei Wuxian grabbed for the note and crumpled it in his fist without reading it. His friends were all watching him, and all the things they weren’t saying hung like humidity in the air.

But he was Wei Wuxian. Cool and chic and capable of handling anything that came his way.

“Ah…we were working on a project for music club, and it got a little late, and…”

“You’re acting even weirder than usual. Just what is really going on with you two?” Jiang Cheng asked, skeptically.

Wei Wuxian swallowed, and then he plastered on a smile that he refused to let slip. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

*

His knees bounced uncontrollably as he waited in the music club room for Lan Zhan to make an appearance. He fiddled with the wallet and phone, passing them from hand to hand. Casual. This was totally casual. He was just waiting for a friend, with whom nothing had happened.

Lan Zhan came out of the seniors’ practice room and his gaze skirted over Wei Wuxian and away. Then he just kept walking.

Momentarily taken aback, once he’d recovered Wei Wuxian hopped up and ran after him. “Lan Zhan, wait up.”

“Hmm?”

“You left these yesterday.” He shoved the wallet and phone towards Lan Zhan’s hands. “So…about that…”

Lan Zhan looked puzzled, then like something had clicked in his brain. “Oh. We didn’t finish the video, did we? Catch me after the football game and we can do it then. Are you coming to cheer me on?”

“Law’s not playing, and I have to help Jiang Cheng with this vlog project he’s doing.” Did Lan Zhan….did Lan Zhan not remember what had happened?

He frowned. “What is a….vlog?”

Wei Wuxian waved it off “Never mind. Listen, yesterday—”

“You should come cheer me on,” Lan Zhan talked right over him. “Even if you can’t make the whole game. Thanks for giving these back. See you.”

He left Wei Wuxian standing there, feeling completely lost at sea.

*

“Welcome to ‘Things I Hate’ with Jiang Cheng. Today: this shitty hotpot restaurant. Well? Let’s dig in.”

Wei Wuxian choked on his drink. He’d agreed to help Jiang Cheng with this project, but he hadn’t actually listened to the proposal, first. “Wait, what is this vlog supposed to be about, again?”

“Reviewing places I hate. Like restaurants with terrible food.”

Wen Ning’s eyes were wide. “Don’t say that so loud, the cook’s going to stab us!”

Nie Huaisang only chucked. “But, A-Cheng, you hate everything.”

“Look, everyone in my media studies class is going to be going on and on about all the dumb shit they love. This is an angle that will make me stand out to the teacher. Anyway, I only have to do this once. Just play along.”

With a shrug, Wei Wuxian got down to it. He generally considered himself to have something of an iron stomach, but Jiang Cheng was right, this was terrible. He pulled a face. “What the hell is in this broth?”

“The only redeeming feature of this place. They make their broth with liquor.”

Nie Huaisang had turned somewhat green. “What kind of liquor, bathtub gin? If I end up in the hospital from this—”

“—It will make for great content. Right, everybody eat up.”

And so they somewhat accidentally got day-drunk in the grossest hotpot restaurant in town.

“You should change your vlog,” Wen Ning suggested, at one point. “To drunk reviews. Drunkness required.”

“Why?”

“Cause.” He swayed in his seat, looking for the thread of his argument. “Because. Drunk people always tell the truth.”

Wei Wuxian sat straighter as this penetrated the fog in his brain. “What? Not true.”

“True. It’s, like, science. Right, guys?”

The others nodded earnestly. Then Nie Huaisang grinned a Cheshire-cat grin. “Uh oh, A-Xian has steam coming out of his ears. What are you thinking about so hard?”

I loke you. You’re reserved. You’re taken.

“N…nothing.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “He must not be drunk enough to tell the truth, yet. Wen Ning, you need to further test this hypothesis of yours. Hey, is it too early to go to a bar? I wanna go do something fun. Come on, let’s go somewhere.”

They started arguing over places to go and what could possibly follow the beauty of disgusting, alcoholic hot pot. Wei Wuxian was more than happy to follow along with whatever the majority consensus turned out to be. But just as they were about to leave, he made the mistake of looking at his phone.

“I have to go.” His voice, oddly, felt very far away.

“What’s up?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“Check your Insta.”

“Oh, shit, what happed to Lan Wangji? Ouch.”

Someone had posted a picture of Lan Wangji, injured, on the football field, all blood and dirt, pain breaking through even his stoic expression. Wei Wuxian had no idea what had happened, but the hashtags included #RIPLanWangi’sLeg, and all he could think was, this was serious, this was bad. And he had to go, right away.

*

The football field was buzzing, as games always were, but Wei Wuxian couldn’t find Lan Wangji anywhere. Song Lan or Jin Zixuan, either, for that matter. He scoured the sidelines in increasing distress. Had they taken Lan Wangji to the hospital? Was it that bad?

He was starting to really panic when someone touched his shoulder. He turned, and Lan Zhan was there. Standing on his own two feet.

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re ok. Thank god.”

“Why wouldn’t I be ok?” Then, as if just remembering, he looked down at his right knee, which was bleeding freely. “It’s just scraped.”

Wei Wuxian felt his face warm. “Someone posted a picture that looked really bad. I was worried.”

“Don’t tell me someone exaggerated on the internet? Unheard of.”

Wei Wuxian flashed an embarrassed smile. Lan Zhan turned him around, using him as a makeshift crutch as he limped over to the bench. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. You can bandage me up.”

He handed Wei Wuxian the first aid kid he’d been carrying. Wei Wuxian winced as he got a closer look at the wound. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but there was still plenty of blood, and the wounded tissue had already started to bruise.

He cleaned Lan Zhan up with a disinfectant wipe and rooted through the kit for proper bandages.  “Why are you shaking?” Lan Zhan asked him.

“Am I?” Was he? Shit…it had to be because he was still tipsy. No other reason. “Uh…I’m afraid of blood.”

“Really? Then thank you for sacrificing for me, Wei Ying. I am honored.”

Now he was embarrassed at Lan Zhan’s misplaced gratitude. He stuttered something incoherent, looking away.

Jin Zixuan saved him, in a manner of speaking, coming upon them with his usual wide smile. “Wei Wuxian, good friend of my friend! Are you coming out to celebrate with us? Another Political Science victory on the books!”  

Wei Wuxian hesitated. Alcohol had caused most of his problems, recently. At the very least, it certainly wasn’t going to help any of his problems.

But somehow, he found himself agreeing, anyway. Lan Zhan needed someone to look after him, he reasoned. It was a bullshit reason, but it was all he needed to convince himself.

*

Jiang Cheng’s favorite place on campus was the swimming pool. He’d joined the swimming club on a whim, but while Nie Huaisang and Wen Ning had quickly dropped out, he kept going, even going so far as to buy a pass for twenty-four-hour access. His mother had lectured him for half an hour about that: because he hadn’t consulted with her before asking his father for the fee, because it was wasting time that he could be using to obtain another class credit, because as her son, he shouldn’t be weak enough to need breaks. But he refused to give into her this time. It wasn’t like he had joined the actual school team, with its frequent, structured practices and competition time that would eat into classes. It was only a club, a place he could visit whenever he could carve a few minutes out of his day. And he’d found himself turning that way more and more.

After his brother ran off after Lan Wangji yet again, the gang broke up and Jiang Cheng decided that a trip to the pool was called for. By the time he reached the fitness center, he was mostly sobered up, and he knew that within a lap or two he’d be back to his usual self.

The repetitive movement was soothing. He’d swum often as a kid in the lakes around their home, but he liked the structured environment of the pool even better. He could let his mind wander and just go, back and forth, back and forth, for as long as his body would let him.

The pool area was never completely empty, but at the end of one lap he popped up and it was more crowded than usual. It was one of the occasional campus tours, he realized, a group of either new or prospective students being shown around all the campus amenities. He was about to move into a backstroke when, startled, he recognized someone.

“Oh,” he said, stupidly.  It was the smiling guy. Lan…Lan, something or other.

Fortunately, his voice didn’t carry far. Unfortunately, it did catch the attention of the very person who had caught his attention. The man turned at the sound of his voice, and when he caught sight of Jiang Cheng, he smiled wider. He came over to the side of the pool, crouching down.

“Hello, you.”

“…Hi.” Shit, were they going to have a conversation now? Jiang Cheng hadn’t meant to get into this, and he had absolutely no idea of how to get himself out of it. “Are…you’re a student?”

Lan—Xichen, he remembered, suddenly—patted his school-branded tote bag. “Just officially enrolled in the Fine Arts faculty today.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help it. He scoffed out loud.

“What?”

“Fine arts? The most useless major?”

“There’s no such thing as a useless major. And there are plenty of practical applications for a fine arts education.”

“Memorized the talking points already, huh?”

Lan Xichen chucked. “What’s your very practical major, then?”

“Law.”

He shuddered, theatrically. “Just what the world needs, more lawyers. Well, nice seeing you again. I’ll let you get back to it.”

Jiang Cheng made a split-second decision, and pushed himself up and out of the pool. “I’m done.” He headed over to where he’d left his towel, not that surprised when Lan Xichen followed him. “But shouldn’t you get back to the tour? They’re going to leave you behind.”

Lan Xichen was watching him very intently. “It won’t be the end of the world if I don’t see the entire fitness center. I’ll figure things out eventually. Or you could show me around. If you want.”

Jiang Cheng motioned to the tour guide, rapidly receding into the distance. “Yeah, but he gets paid to do that. I don’t.”

“Oh, I’m sure we could figure out some kind of appropriate compensation.”

Jiang Cheng was at least smart enough to realize that he was being flirted with. The trouble was, he didn’t understand why. Despite a distinct lack of encouragement, Wei Wuxian had told him all about Lan Zhan’s brother, the international model. And his own observations had provided him this: Lan Xichen was pleasant, Lan Xichen was nice, Lan Xichen smiled. What he’d ever want with a mess like Jiang Cheng was a mystery.

“Right. Um.” And here he was, left grasping for a thread of conversation again. Maybe he should have stayed in the pool; at least he could think, there. “My friend Nie Huaisang is having a party this weekend,” he finally said, feeling rather reckless. “You should come.”

To be more accurate, Nie Huaisang was going to host the gang for drinks in his dorm room because his roommate was on a weekend research trip in the countryside. But…well, now it was a party. He’d just have to convince Huaisang to invite some other people.

Lan Xichen frowned, slightly. “You know Nie Huaisang?”

“Wait. You know Nie Huaisang?”

“I’ve been friends with his brother since we were quite young. What a small world this is. Well, sure, I’ll plan on coming. Let’s exchange numbers and you can send me the details.”

*

Wei Wuxian woke with a start. He was in his own bed, at least, but his head was killing him, and he only remembered…

It took a while, but eventually, he pieced together the night before. The Political Science football team, Lan Zhan excepted, could really hold their liquor. Still fuzzy from the hotpot, Wei Wuxian had sat through round after seemingly never-ending round of toasts. To their victory, to Lan Zhan’s valiantly sustained injury, to whatever genius had invented chicken wings.

“To love!” Jin Zixuan had declared grandiosely at one point.

Wei Wuxian remembered Song Lan rolling his eyes in response. “You can’t fall in love with someone you’ve seen one time.”

“Well I did, so I can, just like—” And then Lan Zhan had shoved another drink in Jin Zixuan’s hand, and another round of cheers was beginning.

Wei Wuxian managed to make it through class in one piece, then promptly ran to the nearest bathroom to retch in the sink and wash his face. His friends crowded around in various stages of disgust, amusement, and sympathy.

“Jiang Cheng, how did you get me home last night?” he asked, leaning back against the sink. “I don’t even remember calling you.”

Jiang Cheng shared a look with the others. “I didn’t take you home last night. Didn’t you see the picture?”

“Picture?”

Nie Huaisang already had Instagram pulled up; he handed it over. On Wei Wuxian’s own feed, someone had posted had picture of him sprawled out across his bed, skin flushed and hair mussed. I’m reserved, the caption read.

“What the fuck.”

“Lan Zhan stumbled in with you about two am. I was sitting right there; he literally did not see me.”

“And you didn’t stop him?” Wei Wuxian squeaked.

“Relax, your virtue was safe. He just took that picture and went away. It was fucking weird, though. When are you going to tell him to stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Well, Meng Yao’s not bothering you, anymore, is he?” Wen Ning reasoned. “So you don’t need to keep faking things.”

“Right.” That would probably be for the best. There’d been too many situations lately where Wei Wuxian felt close to…something. If he hadn’t passed out at the bar last night, who knew what he might have done. He was going to tell Lan Zhan that they had to put a stop to things. As soon as he got the chance.

*

As Wei Wuxian was walking into his dorm, someone called out his name. He turned, and saw Meng Yao right behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

Meng Yao looked upset. “I followed you.”

“Why did you do that? Just stop, Meng Yao. I do not like you like that.”

“I know. You faked an entire relationship to avoid me.”

“I—what did you say?”

“I heard you talking with your friends, earlier. You really faked liking Lan Wangji just to get rid of me?”

Wei Wuxian rubbed uncomfortably at the back of his neck, hemming and hawing. “Look—”

“I know I come on strong. I don’t mean to, really. But…don’t you think, can’t you just give me one real chance?” And then Wei Wuxian was frozen to the spot, horrified, as Meng Yao leaned in for a hug.

Someone pulled him back before he could make full contact. Wei Wuxian blinked. Lan Zhan pulled Meng Yao away and spun him around to face him. He looked livid.

“Stop. Meng Yao, he told you that he’s not interested in you. Let it go.”

Meng Yao’s expression curdled. “He’s not interested in you, either. It’s all fake. Or didn’t you know?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I know what you’re doing, Lan Wangji. You’re doing this just because you hate me? Pathetic.”

“It’s not about you at all. I genuinely like Wei Ying.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What, do we have to kiss in front of you, or something? Will that get you to finally leave him alone?” Lan Zhan reached for Wei Wuxian; startled, Wei Wuxian let himself be pulled into Lan Zhan’s arms. Lan Zhan cupped his face with one hand.

“Stop!” Meng Yao shouted, just as they were about to pass the point of no return. He pulled at Lan Zhan’s arm. “Fine. I believe that you really like Wei Wuxian. But I don’t believe he likes you.”

“I don’t care,” Lan Zhan said, coldly. “The only thing that matters right now is he doesn’t like you. So, back off.”

Meng Yao looked intently at the ground; he seemed genuinely, deeply sad. “Right. Sorry, Wei Ying. I will…just, goodbye.”

He left, and Wei Wuxian took a deep breath. His knees felt weak. “What are you doing here?” he asked Lan Zhan.

Lan shrugged. “I was coming by to tell you something; I saw Meng Yao; I hurried. Are you alright?”

“Fine. Uh…you weren’t really going to kiss me, were you?”

Lan Zhan chuckled and shoved at him, playfully. “It’s all fake. Who wants to kiss you?”

So, he really didn’t remember the other night. Well…that was for the best. Wei Wuxian was sure that it was for the best. “Right. What did you want to tell me, anyway?”  

“The band I’m playing in is doing a show tomorrow to prepare for the SCRUBB concert. You should come. It’s at this bar called The Coffin House.”

Wei Wuxian scowled. “What kind of name is that?”

“Who knows? Some hipster thing, I suppose. Will you come? Please.”

Just then, Wei Wuxian really just wanted to sit down. He nodded in agreement, and went up to his room.

*

Wei Wuxian and the gang went out to their favorite bistro for dinner. He didn’t tell them about Meng Yao’s confrontation. It wasn’t like him to keep that kind of stuff from them, but he didn’t know what to say. He felt bad for Meng Yao, a little bit? He felt confused, wishing Lan Zhan had actually kissed him? No…those were things he definitely could not talk about.

Still, he must have looked preoccupied. “What’s on your mind?” Nie Huaisang asked, setting a soda down in front of him.

“Hmm?”

“You’re a thousand miles away. Lay it on us, what’s going on?”

“Oh…nothing.” Well…maybe he could figure out a way to talk about this, after all. “Actually…I have this friend.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “Please. What friends do you have that aren’t us?”

“Fuck off, I have lots of friends. Anyway. He’s from music club. And I—I mean, he—so, he’s trying to figure out if a guy likes him and he doesn’t know what to do.”

“Ask,” all three of them said, in unison.

Wei Wuxian glared at them. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“It can’t be that hard,” Jiang Cheng said. “Just go ask Lan W—I mean, tell your friend to go ask the guy if he likes him. That’s a million times easier than trying to come up with some elaborate scheme.”

“But what if…” he shook his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. “My friend thinks the guy lied about something. If he asks and the guy doesn’t tell the truth, how will he know?”

“I think I need a flowchart, here,” Nie Huaisang said with a sigh. “Who lied about what, now?”

“Try to make him jealous,” Wen Ning said.

“You think?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“It’s worth a shot. If he really feels something for your friend, he won’t be able to hide it if your friend makes him jealous.”

It could work. Yeah. If Lan Zhan got jealous of Wei Wuxian paying attention to someone else, then Wei Wuxian would know his feelings, once and for all.  

*

The self-actualization circle was a bust. Jin Zixuan went through the motions of introducing himself, searching the participants for one familiar face, but when it became clear that she wasn’t there, he noped out well before the end of the session.

With nothing better to do, on the long walk back to campus he called Song Lan.

“How’s the grand search progressing?” his friend asked, sardonically, in lieu of hello.

“Awful. Do you know how many seminars happen in this city every day?” In the past week, he’d made it his mission to find the mystery woman by going to every type of seminar he could think of. Philosophical lectures. Religious ceremonies. Presentations by life coaches. It had already started out a longshot, but it was feeling more and more fruitless the longer things went on.

At least he had Song Lan to listen to his complaining. The man was not effusive or overtly friendly, but he was an excellent listener.

Jin Zixuan went over the events of the day, but as he was in the middle of complaining, someone brushed by him. He gaped after her for three seconds, and then his brain caught up. It was her.

“I have to go.”

He couldn’t run after her. This wasn’t a romcom; he’d come off as a stalker or some type of physical threat. But he couldn’t let her go, either.

In this huge city, she’d been close to him twice, now. That had to be some sort of sign.

So he followed at a distance, trying not to feel (or look) like a complete creep. Eventually, she went into some sort of conference center. Jin Zixuan didn’t even read the placard, he just followed. Until he was stopped by two people who were some sort of event staff: they had matching t-shirts and everything.

“Ticket,” the woman with wiry salt-and-pepper hair said.

“Ticket? Oh, I don’t have one. Where can I buy one?”

“Sir, this is an invitation-only event,” the man, younger and much taller than his companion, said with a weary sigh. “Tickets are not for sale, they were previously distributed.”

Jin Zixuan tried to feint his way around them. It worked about as well as he’d expected, which was to say, not at all. “But I…look, I just need to talk to a friend of mine, she just went in there. Please.”

The t-shirt twins were not amused. “Call your friend, then, and have her come out.”

“I can’t—look, can’t you just let me by just for five minutes, please?”

The appeal did not win them over. Defeated, Jin Zixuan retreated to the lobby to sit and wait.

He was quickly bored, and eventually nodded off. He only jolted awake when a crowd of people began to exit the conference room, their conversation a rising buzz of noise. He looked for her, searching every face, and eventually caught sight of her just as she was going through the door. He ran to catch up, but he got caught in the crowd, and she walked on, oblivious.

As she headed toward the main road, she dropped a pamphlet. He scrambled to pick it up, thinking to hand it back to her, but by the time he’d straightened up she’d completely disappeared from sight.

He looked at the pamphlet. It detailed a meditation retreat taking place at a local temple. If she’d dropped this, maybe it meant she simply wasn’t interested. But then again, maybe she would be there. It was a place to start, after all.

*

The Coffin House was the kind of dive bar that looked like it was trying to be a dive bar; the dank atmosphere was all aesthetics. Accordingly, instead of hard-bitten, down-and-out alcoholic locals, the clientele were mostly hipster students.

Still, Wei Wuxian wished he hadn’t come alone. It would have been too embarrassing to bring any of his friends along for this, but waiting alone for Lan Zhan and his band, he felt exposed and awkward.

His waitress was cute, though. Short shorts, low-cut top: exactly what he needed for this plan. He just needed to get her to agree.

“Wait, so who do you want me to flirt with?”

He was trying to hire a girl to fake flirt with him in order to see if it made his fake boyfriend jealous. Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure he could get much lower than this. 

“Me. But not really. There’s this guy, and when he shows up, you just need to look like you’re really into me.”

“This isn’t that kind of bar.”

“We don’t need to do anything. Just, you know…bat your eyelashes at me, or something. I promise I’ll tip really well.”

She looked dubious. “Yeah, I’ve never heard that one before.” Still, she leaned over and pulled at his collar, whispered breathily in his ear. “Something like this?”

“Yeah, sure, but he’s not here yet so—”

Just then, there was a commotion by the entrance, and Wei Wuxian recognized a couple of the Wives starting to make noise. Everyone in the bar craned their heads toward the entering band. A few men whose girlfriends’ heads were turned grumbled, annoyed, but everyone else was caught up in the spell of Lan Zhan.

Including Wei Wuxian’s waitress.

“Oh my god, he’s so hot!”

Wei Wuxian surreptitiously pulled at her hand. “Yeah, that’s him. Do the flirting thing now.”

“That’s him? Can you get me his number?” She fanned herself with one hand. “Wow.”

Lan Zhan stopped at Wei Wuxian’s table, ignoring the waitress making lovesick eyes at him. “You came.”

Wei Wuxian was already looking for the exit. “Yeah. Um. I don’t know how long I can stay, though, so—”

“Stay for the whole set. You owe me after ditching the Open House concert.”

“Uh—”

“I’ll buy you a drink when I’m done. So, stay.”

He stayed. He sat with his mostly-full glass, not drinking, and watched the band play for almost an hour. They were really good. The girl on drums played a great, steady backbeat with interesting flourishes, and the guy who sang lead and played lead guitar could definitely one day be a star, if he wanted to pursue a music career for real. But it was Lan Zhan that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. He fit in perfectly with the music, but somehow he still seemed a little bit removed, a little bit far away. He fell fully into playing, like he was in some sort of altered state. Wei Wuxian was looking right at him, but it felt like he couldn’t reach him at all.

“So, this is our last song,” the lead announced, eventually. Wei Wuxian didn’t even know how much time had passed. “Our junior has asked to play something. Will you let him?”

When he motioned to Lan Zhan, all the girls crowding the tiny stage screamed. “I guess that’s a yes,” the lead said, charmingly, He moved back and let Lan Zhan come up to his mic.

Lan Zhan fiddled a bit with his guitar. “Right. So, this song is for a weirdo who didn’t get to hear the first time I played it for him.”

I will do everything, I will try every possible way. This makes me know how it’s going to be.

 It doesn’t matter who you like, just look at me. That’s it, that’s all it takes to make me happy.

I don’t care who you like, it doesn’t matter what the reality is.

All I know is that you are the one in my heart.

Wei Wuxian’s heart was going to explode. Very, very suddenly, he couldn’t do this anymore. He had to get out, he had to get away. He had to find someplace that he could think.

He stood as the band left the stage, trying to push his way toward the exit. He caught Lan Zhan’s gaze, but then a few dozen girls had caught Lan Zhan, trying to get selfies and autographs. Which was fine, because Wei Wuxian did not want to see Lan Zhan, just then. He wanted to be gone.

The crowd thinned out as he neared the exit. He was so distracted, though, that he ran right into someone. The kid oofed, and Wei Wuxian felt an automatic apology on his lips. But before he could say it, the kid grinned, wickedly.

“Hey, you’re kinda hot.”

“Um. Thank you?”

The kid had long, greasy hair and a serpentine smile. He was wearing a tight, torn shirt, low-slung jeans, scuffed boots. He looked like he belonged in a real dive bar, not doing hipster cosplay in this one.

“Don’t mention it. My friends and I are competing to see who can get a pic with the hottest person. You game?”

“Wait, what?” Who was this kid, and why did he want a picture with him? Wei Wuxian wondered absently if he’d accidentally gotten drunk after all.

The kid wrapped his right arm around him and held up a phone. He only had four fingers on his left hand.

Wei Wuxian didn’t mean to stare at the empty space of the kid’s missing finger, but it was the kind of thing that people noticed. The guy caught him, and smirked. “A dog bit it off. Ok, say cheese.”

Wei Wuxian shuddered at the idea of a dog eating someone’s finger. The kid took the picture anyway. Then he released Wei Wuxian. “Thanks. I’m—”

“What are you doing, Wei Ying?”

Oh, fantastic, Lan Zhan had made it through the gauntlet of groupies.

“I’m not doing anything. What are you doing?”

“Who is this guy? Why are you taking pictures with him?”

The kid sneered and slunk off. Wei Wuxian sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Never mind. I just want to go home.”

“Why? We were going to get a drink.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want to, anymore. Have fun at the concert tomorrow.”

Lan Zhan grabbed for his arm as he was trying to leave. “Wait. What’s wrong with you? What happened?”

Wei Wuxian pulled away. “I’m jealous! Okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

Lan Zhan frowned. “But why? Wait!”

Wei Wuxian did not wait. He fled, trying desperately to erase the feeling of Lan Zhan’s touch from his bare skin.

*

“Aren’t you going to the concert?” Jiang Cheng asked, the next morning.

Wei Wuxian was still sulking in bed. He rolled over onto his side. “I don’t think so. Don’t feel like it.”

“You don’t feel like a SCRUBB concert? You?” Jiang Cheng reached out to feel his forehead for a fever; Wei Wuxian batted his hand away.

“We saw it last year. It’s probably the same songs, anyway.”

Jiang Cheng’s lips were set in a thin line, but he didn’t push the issue. He left Wei Wuxian wallowing in bed.

Wei Wuxian had no idea what he was going to do.

Lan Zhan had texted him a few times overnight. Nothing excessive; when it was clear he wasn’t going to get a response, he stopped. But as Wei Wuxian was lying there, wallowing, another set of texts came through.

Hey, did you still want autographs? If you come before I go on stage, I can get you back to meet the band.

We’re about to play.

Are you going to come?

Wei Wuxian groaned in frustration. He was missing his favorite band because he was too embarrassed to see a boy. How had this become his life?

Eventually, about an hour and a half too late, he decided that he was being a fucking idiot. He quickly got dressed and ran down to the place where the concert was being held. He didn’t head towards the concert, but back behind the arts building, which counted as “backstage.” Lan Zhan was leaving just as he arrived. Wei Wuxian ran up to him.

“Did I miss it?”

“Mn. We finished ages ago; where were you?”

“Being stupid. I’m sorry I missed you performing, again.”

“It’s fine. There will be other times. You missed your favorite band, though.”

“There will be other times.”

Lan Zhan nodded, thoughtfully. “I think they still have one more song. Want to go watch?”

Wei Wuxian still hadn’t fully caught his breath, but he agreed. They walked around the side of the building to the concert.

They found a spot in the crowd, and Wei Wuxian boosted himself up on a metal barrier to sit. The barrier swayed shakily under his weight. Lan Zhan looked at him dubiously, then put his hand on his shoulder. “Hold on to me, so you don’t fall.”

Wei Wuxian grinned and moved his hand from Lan Zhan’s right shoulder to his left, so that instead of merely steadying himself on Lan Zhan, he was almost holding him. “Deep,” he announced.

“What?”

“The last song. It’s going to be Deep.”

Deep inside, we know it well. Every minute has a story.

Wei Wuxian smiled widely when he was proven right.

He swayed back and forth on the metal barrier, confident that Lan Zhan would keep him from falling. He waved his arms with the crowd when the song called for it, laughingly reaching for Lan Zhan’s arm and making him join in, too. He’d wasted so much time, missed so much, but at least he’d made it here for this. The world was bright and warm, and he still wasn’t ready to think too hard about how Lan Zhan made him feel, but at least he got to be close to him. For now, that was more than enough.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan waited for the crowd to thin out before they left. “How did you know what song they were going to play?” Lan Zhan asked, as they were walking down the steps.

“I was here at the concert last year, when I was still applying to schools. It was the same set. I really wish I could go back to then, sometimes. I was so happy that day.”

“I know you were,” Lan Zhan said, fondly. Then, when Wei Wuxian stopped in his tracks, Lan Zhan’s eyes went wide, with something like panic.

Wei Wuxian turned on him with a scowl. “What do you mean, you know? How do you know something like that?”

Chapter Text

One year ago

Lan Wangji did not want to be at this concert. It was too hot, for one thing, and for another there were too many people. Noisy and crowded were not a combination that ever made Lan Wangji happy. Plus, he had a biology exam to study for, and he wanted to call his brother before it got too late in New York, and…he just didn’t want to be here.

But Lan Xichen had asked him along so cheerfully, and Song Lan had promised to try and buffer him from the crowd, and he’d found that he couldn’t refuse.

He’d never heard of the band before. They weren’t bad, though, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Especially the kids in front of him.

They were high school students, he was pretty sure, based on their uniforms. They kept jumping, like it wasn’t a hundred degrees outside. The one directly in front of him…Lan Wangji kept catching the corner of his smile. It was dazzling.

And then the kid stepped back and right onto his foot. And he turned his smile fully on Lan Wangji, apologized perfunctorily, and went right back to jumping and dancing. And Lan Wangji felt like he’d been struck blind.

Fifty-eight seconds ago

“I was here at the concert last year, when I was still applying to schools. It was the same set. I really wish I could go back to then, sometimes. I was so happy that day.”

“I know you were,” Lan Wangji said, fondly, remembering that boy with the blinding smile. Then he realized what he’d just said out loud. He froze, panicked. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

“What do you mean, you know? How do you know something like that?”

“I…you look so happy today after just one song, you must have liked it so much more a year ago, if you saw the whole show.”

Wei Ying did not look convinced. Lan Wangji desperately tried to think of an out for this conversation. He tightened his grip on the strap of his guitar case, scanning the crowd. Ah, there! He spotted the members of his band, loading up their rusty old van.

“I have to go help those guys out,” he said, taking the steps two at a time. See you. Tonight at Nie Huaisang’s, right?”

If Wei Ying had anything to say to that, the blood was pounding too fast in Lan Wangji’s ears to hear it.

*

“You’re a dirty liar,” Song Lan said, interrupting Wei Wuxian in the middle of his story.

Wei Wuxian stopped talking, scowled. “Am not.”

They were sitting in a circle around Nie Huaisang’s dorm room: the gang, the two Lan brothers, Song Lan, and Jin Zixuan. They were all a few drinks in, and playing Truth or Dare. Although the dares seemed to be desperately lacking, tonight. Everyone just wanted truths.  

“You are,” Song Lan’s voice wavered up and down, like he couldn’t decide on the proper modulation. “You just bald-faced lied to me. Hearing the truth is my special skill.”

“You asked about the best concert I’ve ever seen and I told you!”

“He asked about your favorite,” Jin Zixuan clarified. “And how can that one you were talking about have been your favorite, when you look so happy right here?” He held up his phone; it showed a picture of Wei Wuxian sitting on metal rail with his arm draped around Lan Zhan, earlier.

He blushed, and everyone started to tease him. “I didn’t want to fall,” he said, weakly. “I was just trying to steady myself.”

“Leave the poor boy alone, he was just trying to steady himself,” Lan Xichen said, laughing. That should have been a defense, but somehow it still felt like a tease. Wei Wuxian pulled his knees closer to his chest and tried to look very interested in his drink.

“How did it make you feel to be held onto like that?” Jin Zixuan asked Lan Zhan, his tone insinuating.

Lan Zhan only smiled, softly. “Happy.”

And then everyone was laughing even more as Wei Wuxian turned red.

He got up to refill his cup, light on the liquor and heavy on the soda this round. Lan Zhan followed him. He was doing that intense staring thing again.

“What?” Wei Wuxian bristled.

Lan Zhan appraised him from head to toe.

“If you were my real boyfriend, I’d kiss you everywhere from your hair to your shadow.”

Wei Wuxian sputtered, nearly dropping his cup. Lan Zhan smiled.

“Jin Zixuan told me to practice that line to say in front of Meng Yao. I didn’t think it would make you blush quite so much.”

“Shut up, I just get flushed when I drink.”

Lan Zhan’s grin got wider, but he didn’t say anything else. He backed away, as if he didn’t want to lose sight of Wei Wuxian for the second it would take to turn around.

Sighing, Wei Wuxian went back to adding ice to his drink.

Jin Zixuan sidled up beside him. “I’m so jealous of you lovebirds.”

“Shut up. Anyway, I heard you met someone, yourself. When will you introduce that person to us?”

“Introduce? In my dreams. I don’t even know her name, and I can’t find her anywhere.”

“That’s rough.”

“Life is full of misfortunes. Anyway, I think she might be attending a meditation retreat, but I haven’t decided if I will go, yet. It’s two days long, and if I go and she’s not there, I won’t be able to leave.”

“Yeah, and the minute you set foot in a temple you’ll probably spontaneously combust into hellfire.”

“Ouch. The boy has claws. But trying to change my ways might not be the worst thing in the world. Just look at Lan Zhan.”

“What do you mean?”

“Since he met you, it’s like he’s a totally different person. But a good different person. Like…a flower.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Ok, sure, Lan Zhan’s like a flower.”

“I’m serious. He was always so tight and closed before, but now he’s starting to be open. I get to see my friend smile like a normal person, these days. It’s nice. And it’s because of you.” 

Wei Wuxian looked across the room. Lan Zhan was smiling. In fact, he was laughing. And it made Wei Wuxian happier than he ever would have thought, before, to see it.

*

“Every year the club makes a band,” Nie Mingjue announced.  “This year, we’ve decided that the lead is Lan Wangji. Wangji, tell us a little about your plans.” He gestured for Lan Zhan to take the floor.

“Well, we’re called Ctrl-S. And I hope that we do well.”

“Succinct as always.” Nie Mingjue clapped his hands together, loudly. “Alright! Now, the entire club won’t be able to participate musically, of course, though don’t take this as an excuse to slack on your own practice time. But we’ll be making a music video to promote Ctrl S, so I’m going to need volunteers to help with costumes and sets and all of that fun stuff. Lan Wangji’s going to be the male lead, of course, but we need a female lead.”

Every girl’s hand in the room went up as they volunteered as tribute. Wei Wuxian giggled. Some things would never change.

“Put your hand down, Meng Yao, I said female lead. Ok, let’s see, who should it be?”

Behind Nie Mingjue, Yu Yinzhu rolled her eyes. “There’s already a girl in the band. Shouldn’t she be the one to do it?”

“Oh, right. Qin Su, are you up for it?”

Qin Su shrugged. “Sure thing.”

Later, during break, Wei Wuxian tried to pass Lan Zhan a snack. “Want some?”

Lan Zhan shook his head. “I just want to be here with you.”

“Oh.” The way he said it. This was the kind of shit that made Wei Wuxian so confused. Well, two could play this game.

“Come closer to me,” Wei Wuxian said, trying to make his voice soft and beckoning.

“What?”

“I have something I want to tell you.” They inched closer together. Finally, with a flourish, Wei Wuxian burped straight into Lan Zhan’s ear.

Lan Zhan hopped back. “Disgusting.”

Wei Wuxian laughed. He was still laughing when Qin Su walked up.

“Hey, Lan Wangji, can I get your phone number? I want to talk to you about the music video, later.”

They talked over details. After the incident at the Coffin House, Wei Wuxian had decided that jealousy was poison, and he wasn’t going to feel it anymore. Unfortunately, that was easier decided than done.   

*

Jin Zixuan wasn’t sure what to expect as he waited at the entry line for the meditation retreat. Everyone around him seemed very solemn and somber. He wasn’t sure if he could pull off solemn and somber for two entire days. But he was determined to do this. Especially when he saw his mystery girl walking into the retreat.

“Okay, give me your phone,” the woman behind the sign-up table instructed as he finished filling out the form.

Determination wavered. “What?”

“This is a silent retreat. No phones or technology allowed. And no talking. You may repeat mantras aloud, but only insofar as it does not bother the other participants. Didn’t you read the pamphlet?”

“But—”

She took a numbered sticker from a roll. “You can still back out. But if you’re going to proceed, you need to hand over that phone.”

Reluctantly, he parted with his phone.

So. Two days of no phone and no talking and pretending to be deeply spiritual. Love had really turned him into a fool.

He found his girl walking the temple grounds, and was determined to keep her in his sight. He followed at a distance. They did walking meditations, they sat with an instructor to learn breathing exercises. As night fell, he moved his mat close to hers, silently convincing her next-door neighbor to switch places with him.

They were three feet apart, now, and he couldn’t say a word. This was worse than he’d anticipated.

He stayed awake for a long time, listening to the people around them settle into sleep.

Eventually, he realized that, though it was almost too quiet to hear, she was crying.

He looked over. She was holding a small photo close to her face, though he doubted she could see it very well in the dark.

Jin Zixuan took a travel-pack of tissues from his pocket and placed it on the floor between them. Hesitantly, he reached over and tapped her arm with one finger. When she looked his way, he gestured to the tissues.

She nodded in acknowledgement and reached for one. Jin Zixuan turned to his other side, thinking that he should give her what privacy could be gained in a temple hall where one hundred people were sleeping.

The next morning, he couldn’t find her at all.

The longer things went, the more worried he got. Eventually, he gave up on the prospect of meditation altogether and went to find the group organizer who had spoken to him at sign-up. He tried asking flat out for the mystery woman’s name.

The group organizer was not amused.

“I can’t just give out personal information. Go back to your class, now. Or you will be asked to leave.”

He tried to argue with her, but she wasn’t having any of it. Finally, as he was about to give into defeat, one of the other organizers approached. “73 left this morning, but she didn’t pick up her property.”

The woman gave a weary sigh. “Leave it here; I’ll call one of the contacts later to have her pick it up.”

The organizer placed a phone labeled with number 73 down on the table. Jin Zixuan knew immediately. There was only one person who’d left the retreat early.

He needed fifteen seconds with that phone.

*

Wei Wuxian was trying to concentrate on an art history paper when someone knocked on the door. He didn’t want to get up; he was just getting into the groove. “A-Cheng, did you forget your key?”

The knock sounded again. So, not Jiang Cheng. With a sigh, Wei Wuxian got up.

When he saw that it was Meng Yao, he almost slammed the door back in his face. “Nope.”

Meng Yao pushed close to the gap in the door. “I know you don’t want to see me right now, but you need to let me in. Please.”

“Go away, Meng Yao.”

“Please.  My ex-boyfriend is following me.”

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. “Your what?”

“My ex.” He looked anxiously over his shoulder. “Please.”

Wei Wuxian opened the door and let him slip in. “If this is a scheme—”

“I promise it’s not. My ex…he’s kind of possessive. And I thought we were good, I really did, but when he found out about my new boyfriend, he got crazy jealous, and then when I wouldn’t agree to meet up with him, he started following me.”

“New bo—Meng Yao. By new boyfriend, do you mean me?”

“Well, I didn’t tell him that but I can’t help that he jumped to conclusions.”

“And you led him here?”

“I didn’t. He doesn’t know you live here. Anyway, he didn’t see me come in this building. I think.”

“You think.”

“I’m sure. Ninety percent. Eighty five.”

Someone knocked on the door.

Wei Wuxian glared at Meng Yao. Meng Yao cringed away, silently mouthing ‘sorry.’

“A-Yao!” The knocking was starting to get insistent.

Wei Wuxian made to open the door. Meng Yao slapped down his hand. “No!” he hissed in a whisper.

“Trust me. You get the door, and I’ll—” he mimed a jab.

Meng Yao looked dubious. That seemed unfair. He was the one who’d come to Wei Wuxian looking for help, after all. Anyway, there was no time for a better plan.

Wei Wuxian took up as intimidating a stance as he was able to. Meng Yao swung open the door and skittered back, and Wei Wuxian landed a punch that almost cracked his hand into pieces.

“Ow! What the fuck!”

Wei Wuxian gaped down at who he’d just managed to put flat on his back. “Nie Mingjue?”

“You little shit, you punched me!”

“You’re Meng Yao’s boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Meng Yao said, clinging to Wei Wuxian’s shoulders.

“Right, when exactly did we break up?”

“We break up all the time!”

“And then when we have sex we’re back together again. Or did you forget how it works, this time?”

Wei Wuxian cringed at the mental image this put in his head. And now he was stuck between two bickering maybe-exes-maybe-not in his own room.

“And now I have to see you carrying on with your new lover right under my nose?”

“Whoa,” Wei Wuxian protested. “I am definitely not his lover. Senior Nie, this is not what you think.”

Nie Mingjue advanced on them. “Step aside if you don’t want to get hurt.”

Wei Wuxian tried not to quail in front of this large, intimidating man. “No. You might be his boyfriend, or his ex, or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to hurt him.”

“Step. Aside.”

When Wei Wuxian didn’t move, Nie Mingjue grabbed him by the collar and pushed him away. Wei Wuxian grabbed for the nearest thing he could, which happened to be a desk lamp. He’d already hit Nie Mingjue once; he could do it again.

Except, by the time he raised the makeshift weapon, Nie Mingjue had Meng Yao in his arms, holding him in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” he said, softly.

“You always say that,” Meng Yao sniffled.

“Because I’m always sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It hurts me so much to see you with someone else.”   

“Uh, again, just want to reiterate, I’m not actually with him,” Wei Wuxian broke in. Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes.

“Wait, so you didn’t come to yell at me?” Meng Yao asked, skeptically.

“No. I came to apologize. And to tell this one,” he pointed menacingly at Wei Wuxian, “that if he hurts you, he has to answer to me.”  

He turned to go. Meng Yao hesitated just a moment, then reached out for him. “Wait.” He took Nie Mingjue’s face in his hands. “Does it hurt?”

“Not too bad. He startled me, but that wasn’t much of a punch.”

Meng Yao smiled, ruefully. “Let’s go home and put some ice on that and talk. Okay?” He turned back to Wei Wuxian. “I’m sorry about…all of this. Thank you for protecting me.”

“Oh. Well—”

“You’re a good person, Wei Ying. But then, I knew that. I hope you and Lan Wangji are happy together.” He put an arm around Nie Mingjue, and walked him out the door.

*

Wei Wuxian found Lan Zhan going over his lines for the music video, while various music club members scurried around. He looked furtively for Nie Mingjue; he wanted to tell Lan Wangji about all the drama that had happened last night, but he definitely did not want Nie Mingjue to overhear.

When the coast seemed clear, he sat down next to Lan Zhan. “So. You’ll never guess--”

“Good timing,” Lan Zhan said. He was messing around with a cup of bubble tea; he spooned a bit in Wei Wuxian’s mouth.

Wei Wuxian pulled back. “What are you doing?”

“What? It’s good, and I wanted to share it with you. Don’t you ever have good things you’d like to share with me?”

“What kind of question is that?” His face suddenly felt very warm, again.

Lan Zhan was watching him very intently. “Don’t you want to try to get to know one another?”

“Uh—are you okay?”

“You don’t have to like me very much. Just keep your heart open for me.”

He reached out and brushed Wei Wuxian’s hair, very softly. This was a moment, again. They were having a moment, right here in the club room, and—

“Cut!” Lan Zhan said, unexpectedly. He stopped brushing his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s hair. “So? Did I do well?”

“Was that…Lan Zhan, were you running lines on me?”

“I don’t know who wrote this script, it’s so corny. But was I convincing?”

“I really hate you so much.”

Lan Zhan’s answering smile was crooked.

Just then, Qin Su found them. “Hey, sorry I’m late; my class went over. Have they started wardrobe and makeup yet, Lan Wangji?”

“Nah, no one’s ready.”

“Great. I brought some of the new songs I want to try on the setlist. Here, have you heard this one before?”

Wei Wuxian watched them get down to work, feeling a sharp stab of jealousy at being left out. “I’m going to get some food,” he announced, after a minute. Lan Zhan didn’t even acknowledge him.

By the time he came back, they were sitting closer together. Lan Zhan was brushing back Qin Su’s hair with his fingers. And he was saying “You don’t have to like me very much. Just keep your heart open for me.”

Wei Wuxian knew that was a line from the script. He knew that. But knowing and feeling were entirely different things.

Lan Zhan and Qin Su looked good together. They were clearly comfortable with each other, and she knew how to talk about music and all that sort of stuff that was important to Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian’s throat felt tight. He turned around and left.

*

When Wei Wuxian got out of the shower, his phone was ringing. He had a bunch of missed calls from Lan Zhan. But he didn’t feel up to talking to him, yet. He wasn’t sure what he would say.

Someone knocked on the door. At least he could be reasonably sure that it wasn’t Meng Yao, this time. Annoyed, he yanked it open. “Jiang Cheng stop leaving your k—oh. Lan Zhan?”

“Why are you avoiding my calls?”

“I wasn’t avoiding them. I just got out of the shower.”

“You were in there for two hours?”

“So what if I was?” With a sigh, he motioned for Lan Zhan to come in.

Lan Zhan hovered in the doorway. “Why did you leave without telling me, earlier?”

“I didn’t think you’d notice. Something came up.”

“Wei Ying. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. But I was going to tell you. I just learned that Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao are dating. They were fighting, but they got back together. So, the flirting thing…we can stop. We can end it right here. You can stop wasting your time on me. You can have your freedom back.”

“Is that what you want? For me to stop wasting your time?”

“It is. You should spend your time looking for someone perfect for you.”

For a long moment, Lan Zhan simply stared at him. “Right. Fine.” He turned to go.

“Wait. Let me give back your guitar.”

“Keep it. It was yours from the beginning.”

*

Wei Wuxian was free. Finally, finally free. No Meng Yao, no Lan Zhan, no schemes. He could get back to what he used to be.

When he announced this to the gang, he managed to sound reasonably excited about it. Nie Huaisang declared that they were going to celebrate Wei Ying’s renewed bachelorhood by chasing after girls.

So they flirted with the waitresses at the café. And then they spied on the practice for one of the girls’ football teams. And then, finally, they ended up at a bar, flirting shamelessly with girls left and right.

And everywhere, absolutely everywhere, Wei Wuxian saw Lan Zhan.

He wasn’t really there, of course. But that didn’t seem to make any difference to Wei Wuxian’s subconscious.

Every single time he turned around, he saw Lan Zhan staring at him with that empty look he’d had the last time, when Wei Wuxian told him the flirting was over.

It was awful.

The next night, Wei Wuxian sat on his bed, determined to think this out. And then a memory crashed over him, of Lan Zhan sitting right here next to him, singing a song, just for him. So close, all Wei Wuxian had to do was reach out and—

Fuck.

He picked up Lan Zhan’s guitar. He didn’t know if he wanted to play with the thing, or smash it to pieces. He ended up just kind of cradling it, running his fingers over the smooth, cool wood.

And then he looked inside the body of it for the first time.

There was a label inside with his name. Right there. It had been there the entire time.

Fuck.

Wei Wuxian really wanted his brother to distract him, but Jiang Cheng had disappeared again. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep in the room alone, so he went off to find Wen Ning. He made up a bullshit excuse about his aircon being broken, and Wen Ning let him in. He probably would have let Wei Wuxian in anyway, but the excuse made Wei Wuxian feel a little bit better.

They talked about inconsequential things for a while. A notification dinged on Wen Ning’s phone, and he hissed in a breath. “Whoa. You need to look at Lan Wangji’s Instagram.”

“I don’t care about Lan Wangji’s Instagram.”

“But you should see this one. It’s a picture from the SCRUBB concert.”

“The one where I’m holding onto him? Everybody already made fun of me for that.”

“No, not the concert that just happened. The one we were at last year. Look.”

Surprised, Wei Wuxian took the phone. He could only stare.

Fuck.  

*

He couldn’t find Lan Zhan in any of the music club rooms. He was in the middle of his search when someone smacked him upside the head. Wincing, he turned to find Nie Mingjue glowering down at him. “Oh. Uh—”

“Look who’s here, for once. Wei Ying, have you been avoiding club these past few days?”

“Huh? No, of course not. I’ve just been busy with class.”

“Right.” Nie Mingjue grabbed his arm and pulled him outside to a semi-private space. “Listen, I need to talk to you. You haven’t told anyone about me and Meng Yao, right?”

“What? Of course not.” Well, he’d told Lan Zhan, but somehow he didn’t get the impression that it was a good idea to let Nie Mingjue know that.

“You’re sure? You definitely haven’t told anyone. Like, say, my brother. Have you?”

“What? A-Sang doesn’t know?” He’d figured Nie Huaisang hadn’t mentioned it because he didn’t want to talk about his brother’s sex life, which, valid. But Nie Huaisang knew everything there was to know about anyone. That was kind of his deal. Wei Wuxian couldn’t believe that he just didn’t know.

“No. I’d be fine with it, but Meng Yao’s sensitive about our age difference, and honestly, I think he kind of likes secrets, so I defer to his wishes. Almost no one knows about us. Some guys in my band. Lan Huan and Lan Zhan, of course. But that’s about it.”

“Wait, what?”

Nie Mingjue stared daggers at him. “Not so loud, idiot.”

“Lan Zhan knows? How long has he known?”

Nie Mingjue scowled. “Pretty much from the beginning. He was there when we first got together. Plus there was this whole semester in high school when we were on a break and Meng Yao kind of went crazy over Lan Huan and things got…a bit messy. Hey—where are you going?”

Wei Wuxian was already halfway down the stairs.

He had to find Lan Zhan.

If Lan Zhan had always known that Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao were together, then why had he agreed to help Wei Wuxian in the first place? He’d put Wei Wuxian’s name inside that guitar. He’d posted that picture. He…was this real, to him? And if so, for how long?

Lan Xichen answered Wei Wuxian’s frantic knock. “My brother’s not here.”

“You said ‘all year.’”

“I’m sorry?”

“The day I met you. You said you’d been hearing about me all year.”

“Oh, I misspoke, I was—”

Wei Wuxian fumbled for his phone, and held out the picture. “Just how long has Lan Zhan known me, really?”

Because this picture was a year old. Lan Zhan had taken a selfie. And in the background, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were standing right there.

Lan Xichen’s face fell. “He really needs to be the one to tell you this story.”

“He does, but you’re the one who’s here. So, talk. What is this?”

“I only know what he told me—” Lan Xichen started to protest.

“So, what was that? What is this?”

“Here, you might as well come in.”

Lan Xichen let him inside, made him tea. And then he sat down and told him.

“He called me last year and told me his friends had dragged him to some concert. And some high school boy had stepped on his foot, and Wangji thought that he was the one. His one. His person.”

Wei Wuxian gaped. “I don’t even remember that. You mean, he saw me for one second and fell in love with me?”

Lan Xichen shrugged. “Or, thought he did. My brother’s a very romantic person. He gets these notions in his head and he can’t let them go. He told me that he’d never seen anyone look so happy listening to music before, and that was it.”

“I—but he never even talked to me, that day. I’d remember.”

“I know.  After the concert, he saw you and your brother waiting in line to meet the band. He told me that he was trying to work up the courage to ask your name, when he overheard what you were talking about. You said—”

“Let’s leave. And Jiang Cheng asked me why. I was so close to getting to meet my favorite band, why would I just give up and leave? I told him, there’s so many people here, the band must be exhausted. It would be selfish to hang around for an autograph, wouldn’t I be a better fan if I let them get to their rest, quicker?”

“Exactly. And you left before Wangji could get to you. But later, he saw you mugging around the band poster. You said that if you weren’t going to take a picture with the real band members, you could at least pose with the poster, and you were making your brother take pictures. So Wangji snapped that selfie, with you two behind him, to remember that time.” 

Wei Wuxian set down his teacup. He hadn’t taken a single sip. “Lan Xichen, do you know where he is?”

“Right now? No. I can call him, if you want.”

“No. No. I just—I have to go.”

*

Without any better ideas, Wei Wuxian tried the music club rooms again. It was late, but he knew Lan Zhan liked to practice late at night, whenever he could.

As he was rounding the corner, he came across a guy. It took a second to place him, but only a second—it was the kid from the Coffin House.

“Oh, hey, hotstuff,” the kid said, as if they were old friends.

Wei Wuxian scowled. “What are you doing here? You don’t actually go to this school, do you?”

The kid laughed. “Of course not. I’m waiting for a friend. What are you doing?”

“Just looking for someone. Never mind. I was about to leave.”

“It’s pretty dark out. Want me to walk you home?”

“Who are you? You look like you’re barely sixteen.” 

The kid shrugged. “Just cause I’m pretty doesn’t mean I can’t take care of things.” He sidled up close. “Come on, let me walk with you.”

“You’re waiting for your friend.”

“I’ve found what I’m waiting for. Here—”

He cut off as Lan Zhan stepped between them. “Get away from him.”

The kid laughed riotously. “Oh my god, you again. What is your deal, man? The whole possessive caveman schtick is so lame. Are you really into that, hotstuff?”

“I don’t know who you are, but go away.” 

“I’m Xue Yang, and I don’t like it when people tell me I can’t have something.”

“Well, that’s the whole world, so you’d better start getting used to it.”

They were about to come to blows; this was getting ridiculous. Wei Wuxian tugged at Lan Zhan’s arm, pulled him back from the brink of the fight. “Hey, hey. Calm down. Let’s just go.”

As soon as they were out of sight from Xue Yang, Wei Wuxian pushed Lan Zhan away. “What was that? What’s the matter with you?”

“Me? What’s the matter with you? You just let that asshole get so close to you.”

“Who I let get close to me is my business. You’ve been lying to me this whole time. Let’s talk about that.”

“Lying? What did I lie about?”

“You knew about Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao. And you met me a year ago. And you never even said. Was it fun, taking me for a fool like that?”

Lan Zhan froze. He looked…fragile.

“I didn’t keep those things secret to play with your feelings,” he said, finally.

“Then why the hell didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I really wanted to flirt with you, and if you knew, you never would have let me.”

Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat threatened to overwhelm him. “But. Qin Su. I was so sure that you liked Qin S—”

Lan Zhan kissed him.

Still not the best kiss Wei Wuxian had ever had. But not the worst, either.

“First of all, Qin Su has a boyfriend. Second of all, you are an idiot. The only person I’ve ever had feelings for is you. I like you. I’ve liked you from the second I saw you.”

“But…then why did you take so long to agree to help me? You brushed me off all those times I asked.”

“You said it was fake. You said you liked girls. How was I supposed to start, from there? I knew it would only hurt in the end. And I was right, wasn’t I? I got into this, and then you turned around and said you wanted to go back to the way things used to be.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I know. You never mean to. Look. Wei Ying. I posted that picture to try and show you, even if you’d never asked me to be your fake boyfriend, you were not a stranger to me. Even if we hadn’t ever met again…I did what you asked. I left you alone. I didn’t go to see you. I thought I could handle it. But when I saw you with some other guy…I don’t think I can stop my feelings, anymore.”

“And you think I can?” Wei Wuxian was suddenly furious. “As soon as you went away, my life stopped being the same. I see you everywhere. I’m thinking about you all the time. I see you in my goddamn dreams, Lan Zhan. So. Are you going to take any responsibility for what you did to me?”

Lan Zhan’s eyebrows slanted dangerously. He looked like he was made of stone. But then, all at once, he softened, just the tiniest bit.

“I can’t fake flirt with you anymore,” he said. “From now on, if I’m going to do it, it’s going to be real.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian stopped at the bathroom before music club. When he went to wash his hands after, he found Lan Zhan there, waiting by the sinks, playing guitar.

It was the first time Wei Wuxian had seen him since the night before, when Lan Zhan had said he liked him. (And maybe Wei Wuxian had said it right back? Or…implied? He wasn’t really sure, looking back at it now.)

He felt butterflies in his insides. But he managed to play it cool, just raised an eyebrow. “You’re performing in bathrooms now?”

Lan Zhan finished with a flourish. “The acoustics are great in here.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled, shook his hands dry. “Weirdo.”

“Nuisance. I said I would flirt with you for real, now. Saw you coming in here and it’s the first time I’ve seen you all day, so…I didn’t want to wait.”

Damn it, Wei Wuxian was all flushed again.

Lan Zhan noticed. He came close to Wei Wuxian and leaned in. Very close. “Are you too warm? Or…maybe, are you really falling for me?”

Wei Wuxian took a panicked step back. “Let’s get to club before Nie Mingjue decides on creative punishments for latecomers.”

*

“Since Finals are coming up, we’re suspending club activities for the next few weeks,” Yu Yinzhu announced. “But before you go, we need you all to fill out these surveys so we can plan for next semester.” She started passing papers and pens around. Nie Mingjue took the floor, a wicked glint in his eye.

“Surveys are not anonymous. Come up with good answers. The best gets a prize, the worst gets to stay back with me and help clean up the club room.”

Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan were sitting together. When he got his paper, Lan Zhan took Wei Wuxian by the shoulders and turned him, using his back as a writing surface. Wei Wuxian put up a token protest, but he didn’t want to call too much attention to them, so after a second he sighed and just let it be.

“What are you writing? I don’t know what to put. Let me see yours.”

“Sit still.” The tip of the pen dug into the paper and through Wei Wuxian’s shirt, right down to his skin.

When everyone was mostly finished, Nie Mingjue called for volunteers. There were no takers. He sighed. “You all are the worst. Okay. Let’s do it this way. Who do you want to volunteer?”

“Lan Wangji!” all the girls said. Laughing, Wei Wuxian joined them. Nie Mingjue beckoned. With no other choice, Lan Zhan went.

Nie Mingjue cleared his throat. “Question the first. What do you think of the club leader?”

Lan Zhan stood like a soldier at attention. “Ah, our dear club leader. He is a god among mortals; spreading musical knowledge to us unworthy disciples.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyebrow raised precipitously. “When did you get so cheeky? Fine, moving on. Question two: what was your favorite club memory from this term?”

“Teaching Wei Ying C chord.”

“Strange choice. Final question before I release you: what do you think of your video partner?”

“Wei Ying is a nuisance. And my favorite person.”

A chorus of oohs and awwws went around the room. Wei Wuxian’s throat felt very tight.

*

It didn’t get any better when, arriving at the café for a study session, his brother greeted him, “Well, if it isn’t Lan Wangji’s favorite person.”

Wei Wuxian snorted as he fell into a chair. “He just wanted an excuse to call me a nuisance in front of everyone.”

“You sure about that?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Da-ge posted his answer sheet on Facebook.” He passed over his phone.

Wei Wuxian = wife stared right up at him from the screen. Wei Wuxian sighed and turned off the display.

“Did something happen that you didn’t tell us about?” Wen Ning asked. “I thought you two were going to stop flirting.”

Wei Wuxian looked very firmly at the opposite wall. “He told me he likes me. Like, for real.”

Jiang Chen dropped his pen. Nie Huaisang made a little whistling sound of awe. Wen Ning cocked his head. “Well, how do you feel about him?”

Uneasy, Wei Wuxian fiddled with the zipper of his backpack. “I don’t know? I…when I’m around him, my stomach hurts. Songs sound better when I listen to them with him. When his face gets close to mine, my heart feels like it’s going to explode.”

“Wait, how close has he gotten?” Jiang Cheng wanted to know; at the same time, Nie Huaisang threw down his notebook with a loud slap. “You idiot, that’s falling in love.”

“Do you think?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself too fast,” Jiang Cheng said. “Maybe it’s just because this is a new experience for you; you could be confused about what you’re really feeling.”

Nie Huaisang sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I feel like this is partially my fault.”

“It’s entirely your fault!” Wei Wuxian said. “The whole thing was your idea.”

“Ok, fine. Well, I have to intervene, then. What we need is to get you back to your old player self, then this will all blow over. Let’s go check out girls.”

“But I don’t want to go check out girls—”

“It’s worse than I thought. Come on, study session over. Everyone, let’s go.”

As he was encouraging them all to pack up, Lan Zhan came into the café. “Hello, Wei Ying,” he greeted.

Nie Huaisang jumped up like he was protecting Wei Wuxian from land mines; he slapped his hands over Wei Wuxian’s eyes and started bodily dragging him from the café.  “Don’t listen, don’t look. Come on, guys, let’s go.”

*

They headed to the courtyard of the law faculty building, where students were spread out over every free space, cramming for finals. “What kind of flirting can we do here?” Wen Ning asked, dubious. Nie Huaisang chuckled as if poor Wen Ning was just a fool.

“Every girl here is completely stressed out. Therefore, we are good distractions. Therefore, they will fall right into our hands.”

“A-Sang, I don’t want to do this right now,” Wei Wuxian said. He didn’t need more new people adding more new thoughts into his head. He just wanted to go back to his room and think things through. Alone.

“Nonsense. Come on.” Nie Huaisang sauntered up to a table of four girls, for all the world like they were on a night out at the club instead of interrupting a cram session. “Hello, ladies. My friends and I are students in this faculty, too, mind if we use this space?”

The girl he’d directly addressed shut her book. “Oh, sure, we’re done, anyway. Have the table for as long as you want.” And she and her friends got up and walked away.

A number of complicated emotions passed over Nie Huaisang’s face. “Have…have we lost our touch?” 

“I told you no one has time to flirt during finals,” Wen Ning said.

“Ok, well, mission failure, I’m going home,” Wei Wuxian said, just as a notification dinged on all of their phones. Nie Huaisang looked at whatever it was, his face scrunching up like he was sucking on a lemon. “Wait. It’s not us. It’s this asshole’s fault.”

“What are you talking about?” Wei Wuxian pulled up the notification; Song Lan had posted an arsty black-and-white photo of Lan Zhan on the football field. This Saturday: semifinals. When we win, my friend here will receive a love confession.

“It’s just his dumb way of trying to get attention for their game,” Jiang Cheng said.

“No. This asshole and his dumn friend have been trying to push Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji together all along. Love confession? He’d better expect a confession from my fist.”

“What does that even mean?” Wei Wuxian was very confused. “Anyway, it’s just a dumb post, it doesn’t mean I have to write any—hey!” Nie Huaisang grabbed his arm and started pulling. “Where the hell are we going?”

“We’re going to confront them. Naturally.”

Oh, yes, naturally.

Wei Wuxian didn’t know how he’d gotten into such a mess. By the time they made it to the football field, he had managed to disengage from Nie Huaisang and hung back, letting his friends do whatever they were going to do. Lan Zhan looked at him while their friends sized each other up. He felt very far away.

“What the fuck is this, Song Lan?” Nie Huaisang said.

“It’s a very nicely composed picture. I’ve been practicing. Why, you want me to take a new profile pic for you?”

“You know what I mean. Who says Wei Wuxian is going to write Lan Wangji a love confession?”

Song Lan grinned. “I don’t remember using any names. Guys? Did I use any names?”

Jin Zixuan laughed. “You did not. I think they might be reading into things.”

“My friend doesn’t even like your friend.” God, were they in second grade? Wei Wuxian wanted to fall through the earth.

“You sure about that? Anyway; it doesn’t matter. I only wrote that to give Lan Zhan incentive to win the game for us on Saturday.”

“Well when you lose, which you will, agree that he will leave my friend alone forever.”

Wei Wuxian gaped. Across the way, Lan Zhan made a miniscule shrug.

“Fine,” Song Lan said. “When we win, which we will, then your friend really will have to post a love confession. I think that’s a bet worth taking. Lan Wangji, what do you think?”

“I think.” He paused, as if seriously considering any of this. “I think…your friend is going to have to come up with a very sweet love confession.”

*

When the gang got to their afternoon class the next day, all of the girls were crowded around the windows, screaming. “Where’s the fire?” Jiang Cheng asked rhetorically. They all already knew that there was only one person on campus who girls screamed for like that.

Wei Wuxian headed to the windows; sure enough Lan Zhan and his friends were practicing in the field below. There was a lot of sweat and skin happening.

Nie Huaisang went apoplectic. Wei Wuxian really didn’t know what had gotten into him lately. He jumped to cover Wei Wuxian’s eyes again, dragging him away from the window. “Don’t look. Avoid temptation.”

“What is wrong with you?” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

“I’m doing this for you. I’m doing this for us. The whole group is off balance without you. We need to get back to how the way things used to be.”

*

Jin Zixuan hadn’t told anyone about what happened at the meditation retreat. But as he and Song Lan were going through their usual cool-down routine after practice, he suddenly couldn’t hold it in anymore. Maybe it was the idea of Lan Zhan being in love with Wei Wuxian; a love he’d wanted so hopelessly for so long. Whatever it was, suddenly Jin Zixuan just had to tell someone.

“I found out her name.”

“Huh?” Song Lan moved into a new stretch. “Who’s name?”

“Her name.”

Song Lan took a second. Then he slapped Jin Zixuan’s shoulder, excited. “When? How? What?”

“At the meditation retreat. I…uh…got a look at her phone.” In actuality, he’d gotten about seven seconds where he snuck a look while the retreat organizers were distracted, but it was enough to memorize her name and Line ID.

“Jiang Yanli,” he said. It came out a wistful sigh; he’d said it about fifty times out loud, now, and it never stopped giving him chills. “I followed her socials.”

“Score. So when are you meeting up?”

“Hah. So…I’m too nervous to actually message her.”

Song Lan frowned. “That’s not like you.”

“I know, it’s weird, right? But I’m so anxious. She’s not a student. She’s like a real adult, she has a job and everything. There’s no way she’d look twice at me.”

“Too bad you can’t make up for it by being hot.”

He was being pithy, but Jin Zixuan considered this. He normally did fine catching romantic partners; he wasn’t exactly a slouch. But someone as special as her needed someone better than him to catch her attention.

It hit him like a lightning bolt; he sat up straight. “Song Lan, you’re a genius.”

“What did I say this time?”

“Someone hot…Song Lan, who’s the hottest person we know?”

“Lan Wangji?”

“Try again.”

“Uh…the cheerleader?”

“Ew, no. You think the cheerleader is hot?”

“I mean…objectively speaking?” Song Lan pondered this for a minute, then hit Jin Zixuan’s shoulder again. “Never mind that. Who?”

“Who do we know who got paid to be hot for a living?”

“Lan Xichen? Wait, are you going to try to get Lan Xichen to Cyrano de Bergerac this situation for you?”

Jin Zixuan was not going to admit that he didn’t understand that reference. He waved it off. “I just need a picture and a profile that will catch her attention. The rest will totally work itself out.”

*

After his last evening class, Jiang Cheng headed for the library.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent more than three consecutive hours in his room. It was either the pool or the library, these days. He was busy, he was stressed, but mostly, he didn’t want to deal with Wei Wuxian and his nonsense.

Maybe it had been a mistake to room with his brother. They’d been tentatively coexisting in the same space for over ten years now; maybe it was time for them to admit that they needed some distance from each other.

He was idly pondering this as he looked for a free spot in the library. Now that finals were on the horizon, all of his favorite nooks were taken. And he didn’t exactly have a lot of friends he could join.

Then he turned a corner, and Lan Xichen was there. “Oh,” he said, aloud. (Seriously, could he ever say anything else when confronted with Lan Xichen? It was like his brain shorted out for some reason.) 

Lan Xichen looked up with a smile. “Hello, you.”

“Hi. Can I…can I sit?”

“Go right ahead.”

Jiang Cheng busied himself with unpacking his laptop and his business law textbooks. Lan Xichen was buried in a book of his own; he didn’t pay any attention to Jiang Cheng. Which was fine. That was just what he wanted. So…why couldn’t he concentrate on his work?

“Did you actually start classes so close to finals?” he asked, unsure why he was torturing himself by starting a conversation at all.

Lan Xichen looked over at him again. “No, but I’m auditing until the new term begins. I wanted to catch up as much as I could so I can hopefully test out of some of the required credits.”

“Ah. That’s…nice.”

Lan Xichen closed his book and leaned forward, chin in hand. “Nothing’s holding my attention, tonight. Did you want a study buddy?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Believe me, you’ll know when I’m flirting with you.”

“Why?”

“Why would you know? Well, I’m very, very—”

“No,” Jiang Cheng interrupted. “Why would you flirt with me?” 

He shrugged. “You’re cute. Do I need another reason?”

“I’m not gay,” Jiang Cheng blurted. Immediately, he was mortified that instead of normal and casual, he’d gone right to the blunt truth. As usual.  

Lan Xichen sat back. “Ah, I see.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “That’s it?”

“What, did you want me to make a big, dramatic scene?”

“No…I just…I don’t know.”

“Look, I’m not going to pretend that I’m not attracted to you. Because I am, and that doesn’t just turn off like a faucet. But even if you did like guys, that doesn’t mean you’d have to be attracted to me back. I know the world doesn’t always work that way. And now I won’t flirt with you, so thank you for telling me.”

Jiang Cheng studied his hands. “Wow. You’re really good at that.”

“Good at what, exactly?”

“I don’t know…making awkward things less awkward? Just…smoothing everything over.”

Lan Xichen shrugged. “I’m a people pleaser; it’s what we do. Anyway, there’s nothing to be awkward about. You’re not that special. I’m attracted to lots of guys.”

“Ouch. So I’m just one in the sea, huh?”

“Like him,” Lan Xichen said, ignoring Jiang Cheng and pointing to a small guy with glasses over by the periodicals.

“Really?”

“Sure. Oh, and him over there.”  A round-faced guy with bleached hair.

“I don’t see it.”

“Because you don’t have my scope of vision. Oooh. And definitely that one right over there.”

“Seriously? The librarian?” He was a student librarian, at least, not some guy old enough to be their father, but still. Jiang Cheng did not get it.

Lan Xichen chuckled. “I’m just saying, I’m not going to get all angsty about this, but if it makes you uncomfortable, then fine. We can say goodbyes and never speak again except on our brothers’ inevitable wedding day. Or we could ignore it and just go on with things and be friends. You’re still sitting there instead of running away in terror, so I hope for the latter option, but I leave it in your hands.”

“I’d like to be friends. But I’d probably bore you to death.”

“I doubt that’s possible. And in any case, I notice that you just said you’re not gay, you didn’t specify any other orientation, so that’s just more of you for me to figure out.”

“Lan Xichen!” Jiang Cheng said, shocked. It was loud enough that he earned a glare from the apparently-hot librarian.

Lan Xichen’s eyes crinkled with laughter. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help it. Last time, I swear. God, your face. You’re just too easy to tease.”

*

Nie Huaisang had ignored all of Wei Wuxian’s protests and scheduled a study session with a group of girls for Saturday. They had the football game on Saturday, it was very important, but Nie Huaisang just steamrolled over every argument Wei Wuxian made. Finally, fed up, he’d gone off on his own, taking a walk to clear his head.

His walk took him by the Political Science faculty building. He was lost in his own thoughts, but startled out of them when a group of four or five guys ran past him, almost pushing him to the ground. With a frown, he stared after them for a second, and then went into the covered walkway they had come from, where the lockers were set up.

“Holy shit! What happened?”

Lan Zhan was on the ground, pressing a hand against his stomach. He was disheveled, his hair and clothes a mussed mess. “Fight,” he said as Wei Wuxian ran to him. “Four on one…not fair.”

“What the fuck.” Wei Wuxian gathered him up, checking for blood and broken bones. His knuckles were scraped and he had an abrasion on his left cheek, but otherwise seemed to be in one piece.

He helped Lan Zhan to stand and half-carried him out to the front of the building, sat him down on the curb. He ran to get a drink from the vending machine, watching over his shoulder the whole time to make sure the guys didn’t come back. As Lan Zhan drank, he asked, “What were they fighting you about?”

Lan Zhan gulped down the drink. “They keep trying to get me to delete Instagram because they’re mad that their girlfriends follow me.”

“They beat you up because of Instagram? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’ll not get a disagreement from me.”

“Wait…’keep.’ Lan Zhan, have they done this before?”

“Ah…”

Wei Wuxian glared. “Lan Zhan.”  

“…They’ve tried a few times, but it’s always been one on one, before.”

“You should have told me.”

“I can handle it.”

“Oh, clearly. You definitely look like you’re handling it.”

Lan shrugged, then winced at some pain. He nestled against Wei Wuxian and rested his head on his shoulder. Wei Wuxian let him.

“I don’t mind getting beat up if you’re there to take care of me.”

“How about not getting beat up at all?”

“Mn.” He reached over surreptitiously and grabbed Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“Hey!”

Lan Zhan chuckled ruefully. “Thanks, you just healed me. All better.”

“Pervert.”

“One does what one must.” He was very clingy, snuggling into Wei Wuxian. “I don’t have my car today and I don’t want to walk alone. Will you stay with me?”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “What about your brother? He can take care of you.”

“Not home,” Lan Zhan said.

“Where—never mind. I don’t have any supplies or anything.”

“What, like a toothbrush? You can use mine.”

“Gross.”

“Please, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian sighed and disengaged himself from the impromptu cuddle. He couldn’t encourage stuff like this. “I have to go home. So. You go to your place, and I go to mine.”

“I go to my place and you go to my place.”

“Seriously, did those guys give you a concussion or are you just being like this on purpose?”

Lan Zhan smiled wistfully. “If they gave me a concussion, would you stay the night with me?”

“Oh my god, you are so weird.”

“Mn. Hey, Wei Ying? Do you still have my football jersey?”

“Yes, because your drunk ass forgot to take it back. Do you need it for the game Saturday?”

“I have a spare.” His hand was on the curb, right next to Wei Wuxian’s. Their pinkies pressed together, lightly. “But…would you wear it, on Saturday? And come cheer for me?”

“I—”

“Please? It will give me the ultimate strength to beat Engineering. And if you’re not going to take care of me tonight, it’s the least you can do.”

Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian was quickly learning, could be a manipulative little bastard when he wanted.

He had Nie Huaisang’s stupid study session on Saturday…but that was only if he decided to go. “Sure,” he said. He helped Lan Zhan back to his feet, and they turned their separate ways.

*

Song Lan was helping Jin Zixuan compose a message for Jiang Yanli. They’d chosen a serious-looking photo of Lan Xichen and come up with a fake name for the profile; now they were trying to figure out the best way to get Jiang Yanli’s attention. They passed the phone back and forth, arguing over diction and what would be coming on too strong for a first interaction.

It looked like she was in some kind of executive intern position for a business consulting company. So they decided to go with that, since it seemed marginally easier than either of them trying to talk coherently about anything to do with religion or spirituality.

Hi :D

“Don’t do the smile with teeth!” Song Lan hissed. “It’s too threatening for a first message!”

Hi : ) I’ve been following your posts with interest. I’m a business admin student, your posts are a great resource!

“That sounds like a robot wrote it,” Jin Zixuan complained.

“Ok, fine, we’ll just start off with Hello, I love you, then, shall we?”

They waited and waited for some reply, huddled over the phone like cavemen with the first fire. Finally, after what felt like hours, she messaged.

Glad to be of help. Where do you go to school?

Jin Zixuan panicked. Their school was enormous and she never would have wanted to check the records of the entire business faculty for his fake name, but instead he typed out the name of her alma mater, much smaller, and somewhere she’d been just two years before.

Song Lan hit him.

Small world. Have you worked with Professor Ling yet? She was my mentor.

“Uh…” Jin Zixuan completely lost the thread. He had no idea how to go on.

Song Lan wrestled the phone away. Yeah, I actually have a paper due for her. Would you be interested in being a primary source interview?

Now it was Jin Zixuan’s turn to hit him.

“Hey! I’m helping you.”

“By making up an imaginary paper for a very real person that she actually knows and can actually check with? How is that helpful?”

Sure. Student outreach will get me brownie points at work. When can you meet?

“Meet like in person meet?” Song Lan asked aloud, goggle-eyed. “Shit.”

“Damn it. I hate you so much right now.”

“Relax. We can totally fix this. Or…Lan Xichen can, anyway.” He typed a suggested date and location into the chat. Jin Zixuan took the phone away from him for good.

*

Lan Xichen was not amused.

Jin Zixuan had never seen him with less than an affable smile. But as he and Song Lan haltingly relayed the story—trying their best to make it all seem like just a funny misunderstanding—his expression got darker, and darker, like an ominous cloud.

“So, see, I need your help,” Jin Zixuan finished, somewhat weakly.

“No.”

“Please. Please. I will do anything. I’ll give you my firstborn.”

“Why would I want your—no, never mind that. Jin Zixuan. This is astonishingly stupid, even for you.”

“It was Song Lan’s idea.”

“No way, dude,” Song Lan protested. Lan Xichen massaged his temples.

“It’s your responsibility, don’t try to pass it off to someone else. And don’t give me stupid excuses, either, about how you didn’t mean any harm. You’re actively lying to this woman. Shut it down.”

“But—”

“Not to mention, you apparently forgot that reverse photo lookup is a thing. There are one or two photos of me out there on the internet. It’s only going to take her half a second to figure out you’re catfishing her, even if you don’t say anything.”

“Oh.” No, he really hadn’t thought of that.

“Shut. It. Down.”

Cheeks burning, Jin Zixuan waited until he was alone to pull up the chat thread. She had countered Song Lan’s proposed date with another, but agreed on the place.

I’m really sorry, something’s come up he typed. Then he deleted the profile altogether.

*

Saturday, Wei Wuxian woke up to the perfect day. It was bright and beautiful outside. The best kind of day for a football game.

And he couldn’t figure out what to do about it.

If he did what Nie Huaisang wanted, he’d be spending all day inside with girls. And once, that would have been the easy choice. He could just paper over all the weird feelings that had been tearing through his brain since the day he met Lan Zhan. He could pretend to be the old Wei Wuxian, and maybe, eventually, he could figure out how to really be that again.

Or, he could go to the game.

He stared at the jersey in his hands. Number 12.

He couldn’t decide. So, he texted his sister.

Jie…why do people like other people?

No, that wasn’t quite clear enough. It wasn’t what he really wanted to know.

Isn’t tying yourself to another person like that just going to drag you down in the end? What is the point of it all?

He waited a few minutes. For the first time in a long time, he actually saw the dots that showed she was writing back.

Whoa. Big question.

I know. I just…there’s this thing, and I can’t decide what to do about it.

Hmm. Well, I don’t know what your ‘thing’ is, but if you’re texting me about it it probably means you’ve actually already decided. So trust yourself.

He stared at that for a good long while. And then he put on the damn jersey.

*

Lan Wangji had been rather disheartened when Wei Ying’s two awful friends and one awful brother showed up on the sidelines of the game, without Wei Ying making his own appearance. The little one was still ribbing back and forth with Song Lan, who relished the argument. Lan Wangji really didn’t want to be in the middle of it, but still, he wished Wei Ying had come.

The first two quarters of the game were a deadlock. Engineering was tough; the University champions five years running, they were determined to get a spot in the finals. But Lan Zhan was just as determined to kill their chances, and found himself mostly running defense. It was an exhausting fight.

Partly through the third quarter, he looked over at the sidelines, and Wei Ying was there.

He smiled to himself and kept fighting.

When he made it over to the benches, he overheard Wei Ying and his friends arguing. “Why did you even set up that study group if you were going to ditch out on it?” Wei Ying asked.

“We were never going to go in the first place. That was for you. Seriously, what are you doing here?”

“Hello, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Ying looked his way, and his eyes immediately got brighter. “You’re late.”

“Sorry about that. Had to find the right outfit.”

He unzipped the windbreaker he was wearing and slipped it off his shoulders. Underneath, he was wearing Lan Wangji’s jersey. It was slightly big on him, askew on one shoulder.

Lan Wangji wanted to kiss him.

He knew it. He’d known it since the first moment he saw Wei Ying. This was a boy worth loving.

“Oh, right,” the little friend was saying. “Psych him out by wearing his own team’s colors. Good thinking, A-Xian.”

Wei Ying rolled his eyes. Lan Zhan smiled more, and headed back out to the field.

In the fourth quarter, he almost came back from the 1-1 tie with a tiebreaking goal. Just as the applause was cresting, the Engineering team member he’d intercepted went down, and the ref called a foul.

And just like that, it was all over.

They had lost.

They had lost.

Lan Wangji went numb. The world kept spinning around him, but he couldn’t seem to get a handle on it. When everything was over, he went to the bench, and he sat. And he stayed.

He sat there alone while everyone else left (His friends were…gone. Wei Ying was…gone. He didn’t know where.). He sat there alone as it began to get dark. He sat there alone because if he left, it would mean admitting that he had lost, that Wei Ying would never speak to him again.

“This seat taken?” someone said. He looked up.

“Wei Ying.” Startled out of his silent contemplation he tried to stand, tried to go, tried to get away.

“Oh relax, would you? Sit down. Just because you need to leave me alone doesn’t mean I need to leave you alone. Anyway, you might have agreed to that stupid bet, but I didn’t. No one bothered to ask me.”

“Oh.”

Wei Ying handed him one half of his headphones. “Here. When I have a bad day, music always makes it better.”

So they sat there together and listened to a song. Wei Ying picked Here Comes the Sun. Perhaps just the tiniest bit sappy for this particular moment, but Lan Wangji welcomed sap. Anyway, this was one of his favorite songs.

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan said, when it was over.

“Anytime. Anyway, that call was totally bullshit. That wasn’t a foul. So…let’s not count this game? You still have to play Architecture for third place. We’ll give this one more shot. If…you want to?”

“I’d like that.”

“Cool. Let’s get out of here, then.”

They left the field and started walking to Lan Zhan’s car. Presumably, Wei Ying would then leave him there and walk to the dorms. But suddenly Lan Zhan remembered how Wei Ying had let him cling to him when he was beaten up by those boys the other day. He could do with a little clinging right now.

And so he started weaving around, pretending that the game had taken more out of him than it really had. He fell against Wei Wuxian, putting his head on his shoulder. “Oh, I’m so dizzy, I can barely stand.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “You are not a good actor.”

“I’m not acting. I feel terrible. I don’t think it’s safe for me to drive.”

“Right. Sure.”

“I mean it, Wei Ying. You’re heartless.”

“Okay, okay.” Wei Ying patted his forehead gently. “Poor little Lan Zhan. What do you need from me?”

Everything. He needed everything.

He searched his pockets, looking for his car key. “Can you drive me home?”

Wei Ying sighed. “If you insist. Here, wait a sec, I think I left my headphones on the bench. Will you be okay if I run back and get them?”

“I don’t know, I might faint.”

“Right. Tell you what.” Wei Ying took his shoulders and guided him over to a concrete pillar. “You just lean here, nice and stable, and I’ll be back in thirty seconds. Okay?” Lan Zhan nodded and Wei Ying jogged back to the field.

As soon as he was out of sight, a group of guys in masks crawled out of the shadows.

Some of them had sticks.

Lan Wangji straightened up. “What is this?”

“We told you to delete your social media,” one of them said.

“Yeah, and since you won’t, we’re gonna take it out on your pretty face,” added another.

Lan Zhan didn’t try to talk them down. It would only be wasting words. He did try to run, however. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that he couldn’t take on six people, some of them with weapons.

The caught him, as he’d known they probably would, and the fists started flying. Lan Zhan only made a sound when he caught sight of Wei Ying, standing there, shocked. “Run!” he yelled. And Wei Ying did.

Only, he ran towards the fight, instead of away.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian didn’t know what was happening; only that one minute he’d left Lan Zhan waiting safely for him, and the next minute there were a bunch of masked guys with sticks. There was no time to think; he just ran in.

He was a scrapper, and he got in quite a few good hits, but a punch to the stomach eventually landed him back on his ass. One of the attackers was laughing. Wei Wuxian tried to crawl over to Lan Zhan; Lan Zhan was trying to get to him, too. The laugher finally stopped. “Okay. Enough,” someone declared. And then they all fled into the night.

Wei Wuxian dragged in a pained breath. He didn’t know how long it took, but he and Lan Zhan managed to help each other stand and walk, haltingly, to the parking lot. Without discussing it, Wei Wuxian curled into the passenger seat, and Lan Zhan drove him to his apartment.

He sat on the mattress and tried to take off his shoes while Lan Zhan went for a first aid kit. “I’m fine,” he protested, the first words he’d said, when Lan Zhan tried to clean a cut on his face. “You first.”

“Wei Ying. Let me do this.”

His fingers were gentle, skating over Wei Wuxian’s skin. He disinfected a cut, bandaged it. Wei Wuxian hissed.

“How’s my face look? Is it badly bruised?”

Lan Zhan tsked. “Only worried about how you look.”

“I’m serious. I have U-team cheerleading this week. If it’s bad, Yu Jinzhu’s gonna yell at me.”

“Poor Wei Ying.” He brushed back Wei Wuxian’s hair. “Don’t worry. You’re still handsome.”

The adrenaline was crashing, and the sharp pains had turned into dull aches. Wei Wuxian took the first aid kit and started fixing up Lan Zhan in turn.

“No way that was just about Instagram.”

“Mn. Maybe not. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

“You should worry about it now. Lan Zhan, if something worse had happened…”

“Everything’s fine now. But I don’t want you going home alone, tonight. Stay?”

“Lan Zhan.”

“Is it because you don’t have any supplies? Because when you said that last time, I went to the store.”

“You what?”

“Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, washcloth, disposable razor, moisturizer, sunscreen, fresh underwear. They’re all in that bag over there.”

Wei Wuxian chuckled. So much for that easy out. This was clearly a boy who prepared.

“What about your brother?”

“Staying with Nie Mingjue tonight.”

Wei Wuxian studied him closely. “Is that a lie?”

Lan Zhan only shrugged. “He won’t be back tonight. Couch or mattress? Your choice.”

Wei Wuxian bit his lip. It was late, and he didn’t relish the prospect of a long walk back to campus in the dark, sore and stunned.

“I’ll take the couch.”

*

Lan Xichen stared down at the text he’d just received, and then he sighed. He’d been trying for years to get Wangji to open up to people more, make friends. Well, this was how he paid for it.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng asked from across the table. They’d been studying in companionable silence for hours. Lan Xichen made his way to this table most nights, now, and most nights Jiang Cheng found him there, and they studied separately but together. They had reached a good equilibrium.

And Lan Xichen was about to disrupt it, because it was either that or calling Nie Mingjue, who probably had his boyfriend keeping him busy right now.

“I just got kicked out for the night. You have a double room, right?”

“I mean, yes, but my brother is my roommate.”

“What a coincidence; your brother is also the reason I just got kicked out.”

Jiang Cheng took that in. And then his face turned purple.

“I—what—you mean—”

“Don’t let your mind go wherever it’s going. Just…can I crash with you? All-nighters always make me itchy.”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth was a tight line. He hissed out a grudging breath. “Fine.”

Later, when their eyes had gone blurry from reading, they went to the dorm. Jiang Cheng hustled around trying to fix everything up as if he was embarrassed by the shabbiness, the smallness, the evidence of life. Lan Xichen, who’d spent most of the past few years sharing 800-square-foot bedsits with six other people or sleeping in green rooms and airplanes and, of course, on couches, was charmed. They watched a cooking show on Netflix and Lan Xichen drifted to sleep in Wei Wuxian’s bed and hoped that his brother was very happy, because he certainly was.

*

Wei Wuxian had no idea how Lan Xichen got any sleep on this thing. It was too short, and too firm. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to suppress a sigh. It was cold in here, too. He closed his eyes, willing sleep that would not come.

His eyes flashed open when he felt something settle over him; he looked up to find Lan Zhan draping a blanket over him. “Scoot,” Lan Zhan ordered. He climbed onto the couch under the blanket, squishing Wei Wuxian up against the backrest.

“What are you doing?”

Lan Zhan settled his head on his arm. “You should have chosen the mattress. There’s so much more room; we wouldn’t have to snuggle so close.” As if to punctuate snuggle, he shifted his hips, and oh…ok…wow…they were definitely very close.

“I picked the couch to sleep alone.”

“You didn’t say alone. Anyway, I’m keeping you warm.”

“You’d better not be having pervy thoughts.”

Lan Zhan made a thoughtful noise, running one finger idly up and down Wei Wuxian’s arm. “Actually…I’ve been thinking about what you said, earlier. About the guys who atacked us. I think I recognized one of them, even with the masks.”

“Who?”

“I’m not sure. A senior from Architecture. Maybe.”

In the blur, Wei Wuxian thought he might have recognized one of them, too. There had been a guy with gloves on; he was pretty sure it was that nine-fingered kid. In which case, he was sure whole thing wasn’t entirely about Instagram, maybe not at all.

“Maybe it’s about football. Don’t you have to play Architecture for third place, now?”

“Who would get that worked up over third place?”

“I don’t know…just…I want you to be careful, okay?”

Lan Zhan didn’t respond. Wei Wuxian craned his neck so that they faced each other. (Why had he picked the couch? His neck was going to be killing him in the morning.) Lan Zhan was just staring at him, his eyes deep and dark.

Wei Wuxian swallowed. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll kiss you til you drop.”

“Yes, please,” Lan Zhan said, teasingly, and then he was half-on-top of him, wrestling for dominance. Wei Wuxian laughed, but he didn’t allow Lan Zhan to land any kisses except for one, possibly accidental one, to the curve of his neck.

When they settled down, he felt less tense. He leaned into Lan Zhan instead of trying to get as much distance as their proximity would allow. “By the way, how do you kiss someone until they drop?”

Lan Zhan shrugged his free shoulder. “I don’t know, I heard that in a drama.”

“Of course you did.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to practice until we figure it out.”

*

The more he thought about it, the more Wei Wuxian believed the fight had secretly been about football. At the very least, they were football players who also hated Lan Zhan for catching their girlfriends’ attention. He was confused by the presence of the nine-fingered kid though. Xue Yang, he remembered the kid was called. What had he been doing there?

He was even more confused when he saw the kid again, walking with Xiao Xingchen from the cheerleading team. He saw Wei Wuxian watching him and winked. Wei Wuxian suppressed a shudder.

At practice, he approached Xiao Xingchen. No point being coy about it.

“So. That kid you were walking with, before—”

“Xue Yang? You know him?”

“We’ve met. What’s his deal, anyway?”

“He’s a little chaos monster, basically. Why, did he try something with you?”

“What are you doing hanging around him?” Wei Wuxian asked, ignoring that last bit.

“It’s part of a mentorship outreach program I participate in for class. Pairing students with juvenile offenders. I'm doing some basic tutoring with him. He's teaching me how to do makeup." 

"He's teaching you what?" 

Xiao Xingchen shrugged. "It's a good side hustle, and anyway, he's, like, really, really good at it. Anyway…he’s had some bad breaks. I think he’s really a good kid, underneath it all, but we need to do a lot of work to undo his damage.”

Wei Wuxian could have ratted out Xue Yang right there. Hey, Xiao Xingchen, your “really a good kid” friend is running around instigating fights. It was on the tip of his tongue. But…he wasn’t certain. Anyway, it wouldn’t fix anything that had already happened.

Instead, he went to Lan Zhan and made him promise not to play in next week’s game against Architecture.  

“Mn.” He hadn’t shot Wei Wuxian down outright, but that was hardly an encouraging start.

“I’m serious, Lan Zhan. Stay on the bench.”

“There’s a lot riding on this game for me. I do want to win.”

“What on Eart—you mean that stupid bet?”

Lan Zhan made a miniscule shrug. “I really want that love confession.”

“You’re impossible. Look…maybe I’m overreacting. So what? I’m asking you, please do not play in that game.”

He’d been pacing back and forth in front of a seated Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan reached out and caught his hands, dragging him to a stop. “I promise.”

Wei Wuxian breathed easy for the first time in what felt like days.

*

Though Law’s football team had been knocked out early in the playoffs, as part of the U-team, Wei Wuxian was slated to cheer for the Political Science/Architecture matchup. He wished he was in the watching crowd, instead, it would have given him more of a chance to see the game instead of focusing on Yu Jinzhu’s commands, but at least he was close.

And Lan Zhan was on the bench.

The Architecture team was immediately unruly, however. There was one big guy who kept making deliberate fouls. Jin Zixuan went down first. From the corner of his eye, Wei Wuxian saw Lan Zhan start to go in as a substitute, but Jin Zixuan waved him back.

Then the big guy went for Song Lan. And Song Lan—a tough customer if Wei Wuxian had ever seen one—crumpled.

He couldn’t continue to play. It was quite obvious. And so, Lan Zhan went in. Wei Wuxian felt dizzy.

He blinked to clear his vision a few times. Yu Yinzhu came down the line. “Junior Wei, are you alright?”

“Fine. I forgot breakfast this morning.”

“You look like you need water. Two more minutes to the end of the hold, and then I want you to slip back, okay?”

“But I’m fine. I—” Unexpectedly, his eyelids began to rapidly flutter. He shook his head to clear it. Heard the sound of bodies against bodies; violent, visceral. He looked to the field. Lan Zhan was down.

“Lan Zh—”

And then there was nothing more.

*

Wei Wuxian blinked awake to harsh overhead lights. He pushed himself up, feeling shaky. There was something stuck in the back of his hand. He followed the line of it. An IV? And why was he in a bed?”

“The maiden awakes from her slumber,” Jiang Cheng intoned dryly. There was a history textbook on his lap, but he was looking at Wei Wuxian from the corner of his eye.

“What—?”

“You went down like a sack of potatoes. Dehydrated. We’ve had the water discussion before. Remember? How you have to drink it every day?”

“Oh. I. Was distracted.”

“Clearly. I’ll call the nurse to take that thing out for you. And here.” He produced a bag of brightly colored things and set it at the end of the bed. “Snacks. All your favorites, of course.” Next to the bag, he placed a black-and-grey teddy bear with a petulant expression. It looked, oddly enough, like a goth. “From Wen Ning. He insisted I give that to you right away.”

The haze was clearing, and Wei Wuxian felt himself smile at the teddy bear. But then he bolted upright. “Lan Zhan!”

“Is right over there.” Jiang Cheng pointed with his chin to the opposite side of the room. Lan Zhan was sleeping in a chair. His right leg was stretched out straight, in a flexible compression brace from knee to ankle. Wei Wuxian’s cheerleading jacket was draped over him like a makeshift blanket.

“What happened?”

“That guy making all the fouls went straight for him and got him good. The knee dislocated. But when you fainted it was like he flew to your side. Kinda badass, actually. Except, now he won’t leave.”

“Did someone call Lan Xichen?”

“He’s been and gone. Lan Wangji wouldn’t go home with him yet, so he went to buy some things to make him comfortable when he does.”

The nurse came in and quietly removed Wei Wuxian’s IV. He flexed his wrist. “Do I have to stay in this bed?”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, but you can do pretty much what you like. Once we can get the doctor to come in and take a look, you’ll probably be cleared for discharge. It shouldn’t take more than another hour.”

“Wanna stretch your legs?” Jiang Cheng asked. Wei Wuxian looked over at Lan Zhan, reluctant to let him out of his sight.

“He’ll be fine, we’ll just go for a minute,” Jiang Cheng said. “Oh, and by the way, Political Science won the game. So I guess you’d better start preparing that love confession.”

“You’re loving this.”

“Oh, no, I fucking hate it. But a bet’s a bet, right?”

Wei Wuxian got out of bed slowly, to make sure that he could stay steady on his feet. He checked Lan Zhan’s temperature with the back of his hand, readjusted the jacket so that it covered him up better. And then he put on hospital slippers and went for a walk with his brother.

*

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Wei Wuxian said for about the fifteenth time. He was helping Lan Zhan hop up the stairs to music club step by slow step. Wen Ning was tagging along today, after a surprise class cancellation had left him at loose ends. He’d offered to just carry Lan Zhan up on his back, but Lan Zhan had only glared at him and that was that.

“I can manage. I’ve missed too many practices already.”

“You’ve missed one practice. And the doctors said you need to rest. I’m pretty sure ‘don’t hop up a fuck-ton of stairs on crutches’ was implicitly stated.”

“Wei Ying. Stop. Ctrl-S has a show coming up and I have to be there.”

They’d finally reached the club rooms. Nie Mingjue met them with crossed arms and a glower. “Lan Wangji, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Practice. For the show.”

“I don’t think so. You can’t even stand up straight in that thing.”

“Then I’ll sit.”

Nie Mingjue’s jaw popped. “Lans,” he said under his breath. “Stubborn.” Then, for the benefit of everyone, he spoke louder. “They said you hurt your wrist, too. Can you even play?”

“It’s not that bad,” Lan Zhan said, just as Nie Mingue reached out to grasp said wrist. He winced, slightly. On anyone else, that probably would have been a scream.

“Yeah, no,” Nie Mingjue declared. “You’re benched. The show will have to be cancelled.”

The other members of Ctrl-S looked disappointed, but nodded agreement. Lan Zhan was about to protest again. Before he could, Wei Wuxian talked over him.

“What if I did the show?”

Nie Mingjue looked skeptical. Even Lan Zhan looked a little slack-jawed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Look, I know I’m not as good as the actual band, but I can perform solo. So at least the show won’t have to be cancelled.”

The club members murmured back and forth over the idea. Just as the tide seemed against him, Meng Yao perkily announced, “Hey, that’s a cool idea. I can perform a song too.”

Mian Mian shyly raised her hand. “I guess I could do something?”

“It’s a good idea,” Yu Yinzhu said, consideringly. “Newbie talent show.”

“I’ll do a song after the newbies,” Qin Su volunteered. “And all the rest of the band can play solo songs too. Right, guys?”

Enthusiasm was cresting. Everyone looked to Nie Mingjue. He made them wait for it.

“Fine,” he said, finally. “But remember when you’re on stage you carry this club’s entire reputation in your hands. Do not fuck it up. Cheerleader, since you volunteered, you’re first on the setlist. Go figure out something to play.”  

*

Unallowed to practice in his own club, Lan Wangji hobbled over to where Wen Ning was waiting. His pride was wounded. Also, he really wished that he had another dose of painkillers handy. But it was mostly the pride that was getting to him.

Of all Wei Ying’s horrible friends, Wen Ning was the easiest to tolerate. He barely talked, at least around Lan Wangji. It was kind of nice.

But today, there was no one else to turn to, so Lan Wangji needed to talk to him.

“You have to convince Wei Ying not to do this.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him doing a show? Isn’t that what this club is supposed to be for?”

“He’s not…I don’t want him to fail. Not for me.”

Wen Ning’s usually soft, guileless eyes went sharp. “Who says he’s going to fail?”

Lan Wangji was silent to that. Wen Ning was silent, too, for quite a while. But it seemed he was only gathering his thoughts.

“Do you know why I think Wei Ying hasn’t made that love confession yet?”

Because he probably does not love me. Lan Wangji shook the thought from his head. “How is that relevant?”

“Just…he may not look it, but Wei Wuxian is the type of person who’s always taking care of other people. With his girlfriends he’s always been the one doing all the…all the work of caring, all the work of relationships. With his friends and family, he’s always giving his whole self away.”

Lan Wangji had seen this. It was ludicrous to suggest that he hadn’t. “And?”

“And…now he’s the one being taken care of. He’s not used to it. I think he wants to prove to himself, and to you, that he’s good enough for you. And this is how he’s decided to do it. So just…let it be.” 

“Mn.”

“Or, I guess if he does badly, he may get discouraged and never speak to you again.”

Lan Wangji really hated Wei Ying’s friends.

*

Wei Wuxian managed to get through the door juggling three bags of take-out, a guitar, and at least two-thirds of a boy with crutches. Lan Xichen had been supposed to pick up Lan Zhan from school, but he’d been called to Hong Kong for an emergency meeting with his agency. From what Wei Wuxian understood, they were coming up with increasingly escalating attempts to get him to not quit. He wondered absently if Lan Xichen would like another set of eyes on his contract…sure, Wei Wuxian was only a freshman, but he had aced all his contract law assignments so far.

But mostly, his thoughts were on Lan Zhan. He settled Lan Zhan in a chair, making sure the injured leg was fully extended straight. He resettled the guitar over his shoulder and went to put the take out on the counter. “You want me to heat this up now, or just leave it for later?”

“Later is fine. Where are you going?”

“Back to practice.”

Lan Zhan reached out to catch his hand as he walked by. “Hey, I hurt my leg, not my ears. You can practice here, can’t you?”

After a token protest, Wei Wuxian settled down on the mattress. He took the guitar from its case. He tapped his fingers against it for a second. “You know…I think I should name this thing.”

Lan Zhan just raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“What? Don’t people name guitars? You said this is mine, now, right? But it still feels like yours. So I should name it.”

“You can if you want to, I suppose.”

Wei Wuxian hummed, trying to think of something cool. “How about…Lightning?”

“It’s an acoustic guitar, not a child’s racecar toy.”

Wei Wuxian stuck out a petulant tongue. “Fine. Vetoed. Um…Dragon?”

Lan Zhan hardly looked enthused. “Whatever you want.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, as the perfect name suddenly hit him. “Whatever!” He looked down at the guitar and addressed it like a person. “Hey, how do you feel about that? Whatever. Suibian.”

Lan Zhan let this pass without comment, and reached over. “Let me see your chord sheet.”

Wei Wuxian handed over the creased and folded paper. Lan Zhan studied it intently. “You’re playing a SCRUBB song again?”

“I mean, what else would I play? They’ve been with me for everything. My first date. My first heartbreak. When I’m happy, when I’m sad. All of it.”

“I’m jealous of SCRUBB, then. I wish I could be with you when you’re happy and sad and all of it.”

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. “Cheesy.”

“Play the song. Let me hear where you’re at.”

Wei Wuxian took back the sheet and tried to smooth out the creases, setting it down on the mattress by his knee. He started.

“Wrong.”

Wei Wuxian bit his tongue. He did not glare at Lan Zhan. He just started again.

“Wrong.”

“This is why I didn’t want to practice here.”

Unexpectedly, Lan Zhan reached over and pressed his fingers, hard, into the fretboard. “Here. You can’t be so tentative. Try again.”

He did. It sounded fine.

“That. Memorize that. And give me that pick, you’re holding it all wrong. Let me show you.”

He took the pick and Wei Wuxian’s right hand, arranging fingers until he was satisfied. Wei Wuxian tried to pay attention, but he was mostly distracted by the feeling of Lan Zhan’s hands around his. When he’d finished, he just held Wei Wuxian’s fist in both his hands for a long second.

“Wei Ying. Will you marry me?”

Wei Wuxian blinked. And then he pulled his hand back. “Pfft. Wedding rings go on the left hand. Anyway, get down on one knee, first.”

Lan Zhan gave a pouting look to his leg brace. “Not fair, Wei Ying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, take three. Or five. Or whatever.”

He played again, practicing the chords until they had all blurred together in his head. But soon enough his fingers started to hurt. He winced.

“Let me look,” Lan Zhan said.

“It’s fine. I have to build up callouses, right?”

“You’re bleeding. There’s no benefit in playing more, right now. Let me bandage you up.”

He reached for his first aid kid, nearly tipping off the chair, before Wei Wuxian could get it for him. Wei Wuxian set Suibian aside and Lan Zhan took his hands, palm up, and started putting disinfectant lotion and bandages on his fingertips.

Wei Wuxian shivered. “My mom used to do this for me. And my sister, sometimes, too.”

“Mn. You should let people take care of you more, Wei Ying.”

“I guess.”

Done with bandaging, Lan Zhan’s hands tightened around his again. Wei Wuxian looked up and was confronted with deep, dark eyes.

“Marry me?”

Wei Ying grinned, and shoved him. “You weirdo.”

Lan Zhan smiled. “All done. Take a break. Listen to the song a lot. You’ll do fine.”

*

Wei Ying practiced all week. Lan Wangji watched him, impressed but also worried. He was working so hard, it seemed like he was losing sleep. He didn’t want Wei Ying to suffer anything, anytime. Especially not for him.

But Wei Ying was determined. He was learning the song well; every time Lan Wangji heard it it sounded better. Now, he just needed to confidence to perform it.

Confidence might seem outwardly like something Wei Ying had in spades, but when it came to real things, important things, Lan Wangji wasn’t so sure.

It was written in the way he obsessed over small things, playing a note two dozen times when he got it wrong once. In the way he always deferred to his friends to guide him through his feelings instead of trying to navigate them on his own. The way he was always looking to Lan Wangji for reassurance. Lan Wangi was pretty sure that Wei Ying didn’t even know he’d started doing that.

The day before the show, Wei Ying took Lan Wangji for a follow-up on his leg. The nurse did some poking and prodding, and as she was re-tightening the brace, told him that he’d been scheduled for an x-ray the next day.

“Can I please reschedule? I have a commitment.”

She pulled tight on the ankle strap. “I’m sorry, no. Our radiology department is going to be down next week, and the doctor wants to see your scans as soon as possible.”

Lan Wangji frowned. He determined that he would just skip it. His leg was healing fine; he was waiting for doctor approval before taking off the brace permanently, but he’d managed small walks around his room. He was sure he’d be fine.

When Wei Ying came to collect him, he brought a wheelchair. Lan Wangji glowered at him; let Wei Ying bustle him into the chair anyway. Because it meant Wei Ying’s hands on his shoulders, his hair brushing Lan Wangji’s skin as he bent to undo the wheel lock.

“Don’t you dare skip your x-ray,” Wei Ying instructed.

“Who told you? That’s confidential patient information.”

He could hear the smile in Wei Ying’s voice. “I have my ways.”

“I wanted to see your show.”

“Someone will video it. They always do.”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji resettled the crutches he was holding across his lap. “Will you take me somewhere now, then?”

*

“What are we doing here?” Wei Ying asked as they walked up to the music club’s stage. It was already set up for the show; the club banner hanging across the backdrop, drum kit and piano and mic stands crowding the stage. But it was late and the courtyard was empty and dark, lit only by a few dim streetlamps. Lan Wangji could almost pretend that they were the only two people in the world.

He gestured for Wei Ying to take the stage.

Wei Ying’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Go. Do your song.”

“I don’t have Suibian.”

“Use Nie Mingjue’s practice guitar, it’s right there.”

Tentatively, Wei Ying climbed up on stage. He sat in a chair and balanced the practice guitar on his knee. And he stayed that way.

Always thinking too much.

Lan Wangji maneuvered to the front of the stage and braced himself on his crutches, took out his phone. Wei Ying blinked owlishly at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Filming. Pretend this is the end scene of a big Hollywood movie. You’re an amazing guitarist and you’re about to perform for your biggest crowd. They’re all screaming and cheering for you. Happy ending, right?”

Wei Ying’s eyes were about to pop out of his head. “That’s terrifying! I’m too nervous. I can’t—”

“Okay, okay, wait.” Lan Wangji had made a mistake, but he could fix it. “Not a big Hollywood movie. Just a short film. For school.”

“I’m still nervous.”

“Not a short film, then. Just a video. Just you and me.”

“Just you and me?” His voice was hesitant.

“Mn. When you perform, remember. It’s just you and me, okay?”

Wei Ying nodded, shakily. And, finally, he played.  

*

“Junior Wei. Junior Wei!”

Wei Wuxian looked up, startled out of his contemplation, to find Nie Mingjue glowering down at him. “Huh?”

“I need to make my introduction, and then you can come back up on stage. Or would you prefer to just sit there behind me like a creep?”

“Oh!” He’d been on the stage trying to go through one last practice in his head before the show. Embarrassed, he hopped down and let Nie Mingjue come up.

The crowd was a pretty good size. It was free entertainment, after all. Even if people weren’t particularly interested in music, college kids loved free entertainment. Nie Huaisang had shunned Wei Wuxian’s invitation, suggesting the whole thing was some sort of trap set up by Lan Zhan and his friends. But Wen Ning was out there with his sister (like Wei Wuxian wasn’t terrified enough already.) He was pretty sure he’d seen Jiang Cheng, too. A contingent of the Wives took up the front row; they’d pouted and sighed when Nie Mingjue told them Lan Zhan wasn’t coming, but taken up their positions anyway.

Nie Mingjue gave a brief spiel about music club and who would be performing. And then, all too soon, he was sending Wei Wuxian back up on stage.

Wei Wuxian took his seat and cleared his throat. He leaned forward to the mic once he had Suibian settled how he wanted. “Right. So. I’m Wei Wuxian, and this song is called Wish.”

No matter how cruel this world is. No matter how gloomy it is. Everywhere is full of darkness and sorrow. I’ve been through many bad situations. They’ve made me sad, but it’s totally fine.

Here’s the thing. Wei Wuxian was pretty sure he was about to be mocked by everyone until the end of time for making a grand romantic gesture. But he really hadn’t known that he was singing about Lan Zhan at all, until he’d already started to do it.

He made it half of a verse into the song, and then he realized. Oh. Right. I am singing about Lan Zhan.

Because he was always singing about Lan Zhan. Thinking about him. Everything he did…it all came back to that. The person who had stood before him last night and said, “It’s just you and me.”

“Wei Ying?” Meng Yao said tentatively, and that was how Wei Wuxian realized he had stopped singing. He looked up. Everyone was staring at him, the weird guy who’d played twelve bars of a song and then just froze. Meng Yao studied him with concern. “You okay?” he asked in a stage whisper, as if no one could hear him. “Fighting!”

Wei Ying smiled gratefully at him, and started again.

I am never scared or intimidated by what is coming at me. I am ready to accept everything.

The crowd started to murmur. Wei Wuxian looked out again, and his heart felt pierced. Lan Zhan was coming, slow on his crutches, flanked by Jin Zixuan and Song Lan. His appointment must have finished early. They must have broken traffic laws to get here.

As long as I have you. You are all I ask for. Just you, I need nothing more. I want—

“I want to be Wei Ying’s boyfriend,” Song Lan suddenly sang out to the tune of Wish. He and Jin Zixuan were dancing around like deranged backup dancers. Lan Zhan glared at them, but they just kept going. “Can I be your boyfriend? Please, Wei Ying. I need nothing more.”

“If you can’t tell, we’re giving you a sign,” Jin Zixuan called out, while Song Lan kept up the ridiculous dance. “Just say yes and be Lan Wangji’s boyfriend, already. My friend is too much of a coward to ask you himself.”

Lan Zhan hit him with a crutch.

“Ow! Man, just ask him already. If you don’t, I’ll fucking hit on him myself.” 

Wei Wuxian couldn’t breathe.

It seemed an eternity before Lan Zhan turned back to face him. “Wei Ying,” he said. “I’m done flirting. Will you be my boyfriend?”

Chapter Text

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan had said. “I’m done flirting. Will you be my boyfriend?”

Everyone in the crowd went crazy, squealing and cheering. But Wei Wuxian could have heard a pin drop.

He let the question linger a beat too long. Everyone was looking at him. Lan Zhan was looking at him. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t.

And then Nie Mingjue hopped up on the small stage and broke the spell.

“Alright, everybody give Lan Wangji a round of applause, that was Music Club’s special surprise event of the day. How are all you shippers doing out there? Everyone okay? Remember to breathe.” His hand came down hard on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder, tightened into a claw.

Wei Wuxian was barely conscious of getting off the stage. He never finished his song.

After a minute trying to collect himself, he ducked behind the backstage curtain. Lan Zhan, Jin Zixuan, and Song Lan were already there, arguing.

“It’s not my fault Nie Mingjue is a fucking buzzkill,” Song Lan was saying as Wei Wuxian approached.

“He only said that so the show could go on and the other performers could play,” Lan Zhan replied. “What do you think you were doing?”

“We’re trying to help you,” Jin Zixuan said. “The will-they-won’t-they thing is getting old and—oh. Uh. Hey, Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian nodded to him. “Hi. So. All that…was fake?”

Song Lan started to say something that was probably going to end up “Are you a complete fucking idiot?” but Jin Zixuan clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him away.

“We’ll just be going now. Okay. Have a good talk, my dear friends.”

Neither Wei Wuxian or Lan Zhan watched them leave.

Lan Zhan stared earnestly at Wei Wuxian. “Do you want it to be fake?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan’s face fell, fractionally. Wei Wuxian looked away. “Because if it was real, then I failed you. I couldn’t even say…I couldn’t even finish the song.”

Unexpectedly, he burst into tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried so freely. Not even when he’d fallen out of a tree as a kid and broken his arm.

“Wei Ying.”

“Maybe I’m not the protagonist in your movie. Maybe we don’t get a happy ending. Have you thought about that?”

Lan Zhan steadied himself on his crutches and reached out to take Wei Wuxian’s hands in his. “Wei Ying. If it’s our movie, then we can make any ending we want. Just be my boyfriend. I’m asking you for real. I will ask as many times as you need me to.”

Wei Wuxian squeezed his fingers tight. Then he made a decision, and dropped his hands.

He walked over to the snack table, where snacks with love notes from the Wives awaited. He picked up a bottle of juice and a pen. Maybe he couldn’t do a grand romantic gesture. But he could do this.

He handed Lan Zhan the bottle. “I hate movies with sad endings.”

Lan Zhan squinted at the note. “Yes? Yes, what?”

“Yes. Yes, I am your boyfriend, now.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes went wide. And then he was on Wei Wuxian as fast as his injured leg would allow him, hugging him tight, nuzzling into the place where his neck met his shoulder. “Why are you so damn cute?”

“Just born that way, I guess.”

And then Lan Zhan (his boyfriend! Holy shit!) kissed him. And that was the best kiss Wei Wuxian had ever had.

*

“A-Xian. A-Xian. Hey, Earth to Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian snapped to and found himself in sitting in the café with the gang. He vaguely remembered promising to come here. He didn’t remember at all how he’d actually gotten here.

He and Lan Zhan had been boyfriends for almost twenty four entire hours. Wei Wuxian had yet to say a word about it to anyone. After their discussion at the show, they’d gone their separate ways, because Wei Wuxian needed some time to sit with this new reality. He had a boyfriend. He had Lan Zhan.

“Huh?” he said to Nie Huaisang, who was trying to get his attention with increasing desperation.

“I said, didn’t I tell you the whole thing was a trap? I can’t believe Lan Wangji and his friends tried to humiliate you like that.”

“It wasn’t humiliating. Or a trap. It was all just part of the act.”

“Right,” Nie Huaisang said, skeptically. “All fake. The next time I turn around, you’ll probably be fake married with fake babies.”

“What did you guys talk about backstage, anyway?” Wen Ning asked. “His friends came out looking mad and then we didn’t see you for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, and why didn’t you sleep in the room?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Where were you?”

“I slept this morning.” He’d gone for a walk, and ended up just walking for hours, through the darkest part of the night. He’d sat in a park for a while. But mostly, he’d just walked, and walked. Trying to fit this new conception of himself inside the person he’d always been.

He may also have taken the opportunity to do a little practical research on his phone. Seeing as how Lan Zhan seemed to know what he was doing, and Wei Wuxian very much did not. But that certainly wasn’t something to talk about with his friends, who didn’t even know that he was now dating a guy.

“Lan Wangji, hi!” Wen Ning said cheerfully. Wei Wuxian froze. His back was to the café entrance, and that was now feeling like a tactical error.

“Hello,” Lan Zhan greeted, clattering in on his crutches. Song Lan and Jin Zixuan followed.

Someone started talking. Wei Wuxian didn’t even notice who. He jumped up from his seat and started herding Lan Zhan away from the group. “Gotta talk to you. Come on, come on.”

He led them through the back door into the yard—empty, because of the cold. “Hello to you, too,” Lan Zhan said, amusement lacing his voice. “I missed you.”

Wei Wuxian ignored the flushed feeling that gave him. “This is really important. Have you told your friends about us, yet?”

“No. You said you would tell your friends, first. Why?”

“I…can’t figure out how. I can’t do it.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes dimmed. “Oh. I see.”

“I will. I promise. I just need some more time.”

“So, we’re still together, then?”

“Of course we are. I’m not breaking up with you. I just need time.”

“Oh. That’s fine. Take all the time you need. Only…”

“What?”

Lan Zhan held out his right hand and made a squeezing gesture.

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes and quickly looked around to make sure no one could see them. “You are insane.”

“You should be punished somehow. For making me wait.” He felt Wei Wuxian up; Wei Wuxian struggled not to laugh.

When they finally made it back to the group, the others were staring at them suspiciously. Wei Wuxian was saved from thin excuses, however, by a girl who swanned into the café with a bevy of friends, pulling focus.

She was wearing designer clothes and flashing expensively-branded shopping bags around. “Just got a windfall!” she announced to the café at large. “Everyone’s tabs are on me today!”

Nie Huaisang was immediately smitten and tried to make a move. But the girl looked him up and down and scoffed. “Wait, new rule. Everyone’s tabs are on me if I get to give this cutie a kiss on the cheek.”

She was looking not at Nie Huaisang, but at Lan Zhan.

Everyone seemed in agreement that this was an acceptable bargain, except for Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian. It was only a girl with money to burn, after all, what harm could it be?

Assuming that, because she wanted something, it must necessarily be hers, the girl leaned forward to plant a kiss on Lan Zhan’s cheek. He slid back as smoothly as his injured leg would allow.

“Sorry, miss. I can’t.”

“Why not? Come on, it’s just for fun.”

“You see this person?” He held up his phone, the background of which was a picture of Wei Wuxian.

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend, so I’m afraid that I’m quite taken.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian protested. “You promised you wouldn’t tell our friends!”

“I didn’t tell our friends. I was telling her.”

Silence fell over the café. Wei Wuxian sat down roughly. His heart was racing and everyone was staring and holy fuck he’d just shouted it out to everyone.

Tentatively, Wen Ning clapped. “Yay!” he said, softly enough to barely be heard.

And then Song Lan and Jin Zixuan were hooping and hollering, and Lan Zhan was smiling, honest-to-god smiling, and pulling a chair close to Wei Wuxian, and holding his hand, and the rich girl decided to pay for everyone’s tabs anyway, and Wei Wuxian could not meet his brother’s eyes, but everything was okay, the secret was out and the sky hadn’t fallen, he could sit here with his boyfriend and hold his hand and every other worry in his life just vanished. Just like that.

*

The new term began and life was suddenly a busy rush, again. Wei Wuxian was being especially good this time around. Going to class a full eighty percent of the time. It was an unheard-of industriousness, but he was determined to be a diligent student, now. He couldn’t make Lan Zhan look bad by comparison.

One afternoon, Lan Zhan was waiting for him after class on the landing of the Law faculty stairs. Wei Wuxian grinned and ran down the steps two at a time. “Your brace is gone!”

Lan Zhan reached down and thumped his leg twice. “Good as new.”

The gang caught up with them, greeting Lan Zhan with various levels of enthusiasm. “You should go out to celebrate,” Jiang Chen suggested.

Wei Wuxian smiled softly. He and his brother had had a long, uncomfortable conversation and Jiang Cheng was trying, at least to not actively chase Lan Zhan away. They had been planning to catch dinner together before watching a movie showing put on by the Film Club, but now Jiang Cheng was releasing him without fuss. It was sweet.

“What do you say?” he turned to Lan Zhan. “I’ll buy you dinner. Uh…twenty dollar limit.”

“Mn. I have to go somewhere first, though. Will you come with me?”

Wei Wuxian was kind of surprised when Lan Zhan drove into the city, to a neighborhood he wasn’t familiar with. He was more surprised when they parked in front of a condo, and Lan Zhan took out a key from a crisp white envelope.

Inside, the condo was unfurnished but bright and open. Wei Wuxian surveyed it, impressed. Good-sized kitchen. Large windows in the living room looking out over a manicured common yard. A set of curving stairs revealed a loft space that was split into an open bedroom and a luxurious bathroom.

“Wow,” he said with a whistle.  “Is this the place your brother’s looking at? It’s nice.”

“Actually, my brother wants to stay in the apartment, closer to campus, since he doesn’t drive. I was thinking this could be our place.”

Wei Wuxian blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Move in with me.”

He was serious. Holy shit, he was serious.

“We’ve been dating for, like, a week.”

“By which measurement? Anyway, I don’t care. I want you to be the last thing I see before I go to sleep, and the first thing I see when I wake up. Every day. Move in with me.”

“But…Jiang Cheng…”

“I don’t think he will mind, but ask him. Your dorm is paid through the end of the year, anyway. If you absolutely hate it, you can go back there.”

“I can’t pay rent on a place like this, even split in half.”

“Taken care of. I already bought it.”

Wei Wuxian goggled. “Damn, I knew you were rich, but how much money do you have?”

“Enough. And real estate is a good investment. You should know that, with your family’s business.”

“Don’t try to woo me with real estate talk. Or by throwing cash around, Mr. Moneybags.”

“I’m just being factual. Does my money make you uncomfortable? I know your family does corporate real estate, and by all accounts they do well. You all don’t seem to be hurting.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Sure, but that’s them. None of that is mine.”

“You’re a legal son, a legal heir.”

“Yes and no.” His stomach twisted. “Ah…ok, promise not to tell Jiang Cheng this ever, ok?” He couldn’t look directly at Lan Zhan. He looked out the window, instead. It was a beautiful view.

He dragged in a deep breath. “So, on my eighteenth birthday, Ms. Yu called me into her study. She had this spreadsheet that she gave to me. Since the day I showed up at her house, when I six years old, she had recorded the cost of every piece of clothing, every meal, every toy or book, every doctor’s visit, every school supply. It was generous, she said, that she had not counted the money Jiang Fengmian spent to search for me or the legal fees associated with my adoption, that she didn’t count things like water or heat because the household would have spent that money anyway. My birthday, and she gives me a list of what it cost to raise me. It was a big number.”

Lan Zhan’s hands were tight fists. “You—”

Wei Wuxian smiled self-deprecatingly. “I don’t actually have to pay it back. It would take me a very long time if I did. Plus, now there’s all the college fees added to it. But…she wanted me to see. To know. The way I will pay her back is by being successful, not casting shame on her name. Making sure Jiang Cheng is okay. Keeping myself out of trouble. In any case…none of that money was ever mine, or will ever be mine.”

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian brightened his voice. That had been too real for one week of dating. All his mess, just laid out on the floor.

“Anyway, I could get used to having a sugar daddy, I guess.”

Lan Zhan grabbed him up in a tight hug and just held him, breath stuttering. “Don’t do that. Don’t make a joke. It’s just you and me, here. I want to be with you in this place. If you don’t want to, say so, but if you do, then stay.”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers curled against Lan Zhan’s back. He took three long breaths, as deep as he could manage crushed up so close with his boyfriend.

“Ok. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together.”

*

Living with Wei Ying was Lan Wangji’s favorite thing in the world.

It was better than hot tea on a cold night. It was better than cuddling soft bunnies. It was better than music.

He’d never thought anything would be better than music. But Wei Ying was.

Xichen helped him pack up his guitars and strap the mattress to the roof of the car, teasing him gently all the way. He and Wei Ying went furniture shopping for everything else they would need. Their clothes hung together in the new closet. They debated over whose posters would go on which walls. Lan Wangji put on music from bands Wei Ying had never heard before, and when a love song played, he dropped what he was in the middle of and grabbed Wei Ying by the waist and they just danced, right there, in their place, just because they could.

Wei Ying was different when they were alone. The same person, but…calmer. Less frantic, less of an overthinking worrier. He was easier in his affection, too. Lan Wangji was fine with them being somewhat circumspect in public; he’d never been a proponent of PDA, and it wasn’t like he was a walking Pride parade, either. He trusted that Wei Ying felt something deep for him even if they did not hold hands or gravitate towards each others’ personal spaces the way so many couples seemed to. But it was nice that, at home, Wei Ying was more comfortable, easier to touch, easier to love.

He seemed to be getting more used to the idea of them as a them, too. Lan Wangji knew that it was somewhat difficult for him, that it would take time. Lan Wangji had known that he was gay since long before Wei Ying came into his life. Wei Ying confided in him in turn that he’d pretty much figured that he was bisexual in theory for a few years, now, but theory and practice were very different experiences for him. He was still getting used to saying the word boyfriend, still getting used to them being together. But it was easier, without the distance of school and separate living arrangements in their way.

Their second morning in the condo, while they were debating placement of the TV, Song Lan and Jin Zixuan dropped in. “Ah, my dear friends,” Jin Zixuan greeted, presenting a strange, colorful…thing with a flourish while Song Lan hung back, smirking. “Allow us to offer a humble housewarming gift for the love nest.”

He thrust the present in Wei Ying’s outstretched arms. Lan Wangji looked closer.

It was a bouquet made out of condoms.

He hated his friends. What was the point of having friends? Friends were horrible.

Wei Ying gave a giddy little shriek when he realized what he was holding. “Ah, this is so great! Which of you is the genius who made this? Song Lan? I bet it was Song Lan.”

“You are right on the money,” Jin Zixuan said.

“I put it on Pinterest and everything,” Song Lan bragged.         

“Look, Lan Zhan. Condom bouquet.” Wei Ying turned to show it off, then cocked his head to the side. “Oh my god, are you blushing? That is so adorable. Your ears are so fucking red. Guys, please bring us condom bouquets at least once a month, this is the greatest thing I’ve ever se—ah, Lan Zhan, bring it back, I want to put it in a vase for display!”

“Never,” Lan Wangji gritted out, in his friends’ direction. “Never again. Now, kindly go away.”

Song Lan snorted. “Your wish is our command. There’s a hundred and twenty, there, by the way, so…be safe. Have fun.”

When he’d finally gotten rid of his pests of friends and settled down to a reasonable state he decided that there was no better time than now to give Wei Ying the gift that he’d prepared, too. He took the box out from the desk drawer he’d secreted it away in. “Wei Ying.”

“Mmm.” He was typing something out on his phone.

“I have a present for you.”

“One sec. I have something for you, first.” He finished typing and handed the phone to Lan Wangji.

It was his Instagram, with a picture of them together at Music Club. I like him, the caption said.

“Finally managed that confession post,” he said, proudly.

Lan Wangji kissed him, then got distracted for quite a bit longer than he’d anticipated.

Eventually, Wei Ying pulled away. “Wasn’t I supposed to get a present?” he asked, archly.

Right. Lan Wangji handed him the box, slipping on his corresponding version of the gift while Wei Ying was distracted with opening the box.

“This is—” Wei Ying held the bracelet up to the light. It was simple black cord; Xichen had suggested that rather than anything fancy and he was, as always, right. Suspended from it was half of the pick that Wei Ying had cut that day. “You kept it?”

“I keep everything from you. And look.” Lan Wangji held up his wrist with the bracelet that held the other half of the pick. “Is it too much? For us to match?”

“No, it’s perfect.” Wei Ying slipped the bracelet on his left wrist.

Lan Wangji’s heart did a little backflip inside his chest.

*

Their fourth morning in the condo, the doorbell rang at an hour that was early even by Lan Wangji’s standards. Wei Ying rolled over, kicking at his hip. “Get it,” he instructed, voice blurry. Then, “Fucking hell, isn’t it Saturday? Get it and kill whoever’s out there.”

Lan Wangji got himself up as ordered, pulled on the nearest pair of sweatpants, and tripped down the stairs. The doorbell rang again.

It was a young woman. Pretty, in a vaguely familiar way, but Lan Wangji was sure he’d never seen her before. He scowled. She wasn’t one of his fanclub as far as he could tell, and he couldn’t think of a logical reason for a woman he didn’t know to be ringing his doorbell at 7 am on a Saturday.

“Hello,” she said, brightly. “I’m looking for Wei Wuxian.”

“Ah—”

“Jie?”

Wei Ying’s face appeared over the balcony, then he was tearing down the stairs. Lan Zhan slipped out of the doorway as Wei Ying barreled through, grabbing the woman, who was laughing, in a giant bear hug. “Oh my god, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Japan?”

“I—put me down—I came back. They’ve been moving me around for this internship, and now there’s a new program in the city, so—”

Wei Ying set the girl gently down on her feet. “Lan Zhan, this is my sister, Jiang Yanli. Jie, this is my…uh, my friend.”

Oh. So that’s how they were going to do this.

Lan Wangji nodded in greeting to Jiang Yanli and went to get her a drink while Wei Ying got her settled.

“Please,” Jiang Yanli scoffed. “Friend?”

Lan Wangji set the glass in front of her at the table. “Well. We are friends.”

Wei Ying was intently studying his own feet. Yanli shoved him, playfully. “I get those weird texts, and then you leave our brother to move in with a ‘friend’ I’ve never even heard of? Also, did you forget I follow your Instagram?”

“Ah. Well. That is—”

“A-Xian. Did you think I wouldn’t support you?”

“What? No, of course not. It’s just…new.” He cleared his throat, roughly. “Hey, wait. Have you seen Jiang Cheng yet?”

“No. I wanted to find you first. This is…look, I want you to be happy, I really do, but do you think it was a good idea to leave him alone?”

“I see him almost every day, anyway. He was fine with it.”

“He’s so much younger than most of the people at that school, though. And without you, who does he have? Nie Huaisang?”

“And Wen Ning. Jiang Cheng is fine, Yanli. Better than me at handling grownup stuff. He always was.”

Lan Wangji excused himself to go upstairs and dress properly, but their conversation drifted upwards.

“Anyway, how long have you been back, and this is the first time I’m hearing of it? Where have you been, Shijie?”

“I didn’t want to bother you guys. Who wants to hang out with their older sister when they’re finally away from home for the first time?”

“You stopped talking to everyone. Jiang Cheng is worried sick, you know.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.”

Even Lan Wangji could tell that was a lie. Wei Ying made an unimpressed sound.

“Really,” she insisted. “Hey, go get dressed and I’ll take you and your boyfriend out for breakfast. He’s really pretty, by the way.”

“I know, right? I definitely lucked out.”   

*

Yanli wanted to surprise Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian texted him while they were at breakfast and found out that he was studying at the library, outside at the picnic tables that dotted the library courtyard because the day was so nice. He said he planned to go swimming, but Wei Wuxian made him promise to stay where he was, for now. It was probably a strange enough message to trigger Jiang Cheng’s natural defenses, but no way would he guess that Wei Wuxian was bringing Yanli with him.

They drove to the school in Yanli’s rented car.

“Ok,” Wei Wuxian said as they approached the picnic tables. “What is happening, here?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said.

“This is weird. Right? Is this weird?”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan said, again.

Two mns in a row definitely meant it was weird.

Jiang Cheng was there, as promised, but so was Lan Xichen. They were apparently studying together, and Jiang Cheng was….smiling? Like, really, really smiling, not making some sardonic face like he usually was.

“Since when do they hang out together?” Wei Wuxian wondered.

Lan Zhan’s eyebrows slanted.

Yanli hadn’t paid any attention to this exchange. She approached the table stealthily, keeping out of Jiang Cheng’s peripheral vision, and slapped her hands over his eyes the second she was close enough. “Hello, little one.”

Jiang Cheng stiffened into attack mode, but his entire demeanor changed when he heard her voice. “Shijie?” He jumped up from his seat, notebook and pens scattering, and grabbed her up in a hug even fiercer than the one Wei Wuxian had given her.

Wei Wuxian jumped in to make it a group hug. Jiang Cheng shoved him, still holding tight to Yanli. “Get off. Shijie, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Japan?”

“That’s what I said,” Wei Wuxian said.

“I’m back. Boring work stuff. How are yo—” she trailed off when she caught sight of Lan Xichen, who was sitting there pleasantly bemused, waiting to be introduced. Her eyes widened. “You!”

Lan Xichen frowned and pointed to himself. “Me?”

“You’re that guy who ghosted me.”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji looked similarly shell-shocked.

Jiang Cheng turned on Lan Xichen, arms protectively wrapped around Yanli. “You ghosted my sister?”

Lan Xichen looked confused. “I assure you, I did not.”

“You did, you sent me all these messages about some weird school project and then the next thing I knew you’d disappeared.”

He sighed, resigned. “I think I know what this is. Give me five minutes? Go on, catch up with each other, he’ll explain when he gets here,” he said, cryptically. He started typing something on his phone.

Nobody was particularly happy with this compromise, but Wei Wuxian had soon forgotten the weirdness as he and his siblings made small talk. They were all up in each others’ space in a way they hadn’t been for years, as if a few minutes of physical closeness could erase all bad things.

Then Lan Zhan’s friends came up the walkway. Jin Zixuan was jogging slightly ahead. “You called, brother of my friend? Ah—oh.” He came to an abrupt stop.

Lan Xichen looked positively devilish, showing eyeteeth. “Jiang Yanli, meet the idiot who stole my picture. Jin Zixuan, say hello.”

Jin Zixuan had gone essentially nonverbal, stuttering out a series of inarticulate sounds. Jiang Yanli scowled at him.

Wei Wuxian didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. “Wait. Jin Zixuan, you’ve been crushing on my sister?”

“I. I. Um. Hello?”

“Who are you?” Yanli asked. “How do you know me?”

“We met? At that Wen Chao presentation?”

“I don’t remember at all. You really used someone else’s picture to try to talk to me?”

“Well…it was Song Lan’s idea.”

“Was not!” Song Lan interjected, wounded.

Jiang Cheng was steaming. “You catfished my sister.”

“I mean, technically? I--Fuck!”

This last was rather muffled, seeing as Jiang Cheng had just punched him in the face.

Everything went rather insane for a minute. Half of them went for Jiang Cheng to hold him back, half of them went for Jin Zixuan to hold him back, everyone was shouting over one another, onlookers were gathering. Finally, Jiang Yanli hopped up on the table and whistled, shrill and loud.

“Everybody stop! Okay, you—” she pointed to Jiang Cheng “—cool off. What, you want to get slapped with assault charges, you think that’s a good look for you?”

“But—”

“Cool. Off. I don’t care if you have to literally go dunk your head in a lake. And you—” she pointed to Jin Zixuan “—we’re gonna go put some ice on that before it swells and you can try to explain to me just what you thought you were trying to do. Everyone one else…just chill out. God damn, I need a drink.”

“It’s ten a.m.,” Song Lan pointed out.

“It’s a college campus. I’m sure someone will come through for me.”

*

Nie Huaisang was the one who came through for them, as it turned out. Jiang Cheng slipped off with Lan Xichen (Lan Zhan looked extremely troubled by this development) and the rest of them somehow ended up crowding into Nie Huaisang’s dorm room together, where he gave Jiang Yanli first a hug, and then a beer.

Wei Wuxian filled him in on the excitement while Yanli took Jin Zixuan to the corner to put an ice pack on his face and talk about…well, whatever they had to talk about. Wei Wuxian really didn’t want to know. It made a weird sort of sense that Jin Zixuan loved his sister. Who didn’t love his sister? But the coincidence of it all felt like a knot of fate, and Wei Wuxian didn’t particularly want to untangle it.

Eventually, Jiang Cheng showed up at Nie Huaisang’s door. He made a perfunctory, overly-polite apology to Jin Zixuan, who looked embarrassed about the whole thing, and he and Yanli went off to talk alone. Wei Wuxian didn’t begrudge them that, either. Those two probably had a lot they had to say to each other.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian went with Lan Zhan to the Music Club rooms and watched him practice for a while. Later in the afternoon, Jiang Cheng summoned him by text, and the brothers gave their sister a full campus tour, uncomfortable conversations put blessedly on hold.

After dinner, they collected people like magnets—Wen Ning, Nie Huaisang, both Lan brothers, Jin Zixuan, Song Lan—and somehow all ended up at the Coffin House. “This is a lot of testosterone,” Jiang Yanli commented in dismay, once she’d realized how outnumbered she was. “I’m gonna call Wen Qing and see if she can save me. Be right back.”

Jin Zixuan stared after her dreamily, chin in hand. Wei Wuxian repressed a shudder.

Still, after drinks started going around, everyone was friends again, joking around and talking about everything and nothing.

Wen Qing and her girlfriend did come, crowding their chairs close around Jiang Yanli and talking about whatever it was girls talked about. The group at the table ebbed and flowed as little groups broke off and then came back together again. Though it didn’t seem like a dancing type of bar, some people were out on the floor determined to make it so. Wei Wuxian was wondering exactly how many drinks it would take for Lan Zhan to get up and dance with him when someone pushed up between them at the table.

“Hey, hotstuff.”

Startled, Wei Wuxian looked up. “You.”

“Me,” Xue Yang agreed.

Wei Wuxian leaned back and looked around Xue Yang, trying to catch Lan Zhan’s eye, but Lan Zhan’s attention was taken up with someone else who had just sat down on the other side of him. It was Xiao Xingchen. “Sorry, he’s so rude,” Xiao Xingchen apologized, brightly. “But may we join you all? Looks like a party.”

Across the table from him, Song Lan knocked over his drink.

There was a chaotic muddle after that, but Wei Wuxian was focused on getting as much physical distance from Xue Yang as possible. “What do you want?”

“What, I can’t join the party? Introduce me to your friends, ge. Or should I just figure it out myself? Let’s see…Dopey—” (Wen Ning) “Grumpy,” (Jiang Cheng) “Horny” (Nie Huaisang, busy chatting up the waitress who Wei Wuxian had tried to hire to make Lan Zhan jealous) “—wait, was there a horny dwarf? I forget.”

“You’re a menace.”

His eyes sparkled. “I know.” Just then, he caught Wen Ning looking at his hand. He smirked, feral. “I was kidnapped by gangsters when I was a kid, and they took the finger for proof of life.”

Poor Wen Ning looked like he was going to faint. Wei Wuxian’s jaw tensed.

“Relax, would you? I wouldn’t have even bothered you, except Xingchen wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” Xingchen responded, accordingly, leaning across Lan Zhan to give a little wave. And then he went right back to talking to Lan Zhan.

And Lan Zhan talked back.

What was even happening?

“That one looks like he’s about to combust.” Xue Yang indicated Song Lan, who was gaping like a fish in Xiao Xingchen’s general direction. He leaned close to Wei Wuxian, breath hot against his ear. “Should we take cover?”

“Were you in that fight?” Wei Wuxian asked, bluntly.

Xue Yang giggled. “What can I say? I can never resist a good fight. It wasn’t personal, it was just for fun.”

“Fun,” Wei Wuxian choked out, just as Jiang Cheng asked “What fight?”

Wei Wuxian motioned for him to quiet down; he didn’t want everyone in the bar knowing his business. And he didn’t want to get into a discussion with his brother about why he hadn’t mentioned the fight. Not now, anyway.  

Xue Yang sighed theatrically. “Made a big mistake there, I guess. You’ll never forgive me for hurting your pretty baby, hmm?”

Wei Wuxian fumed. He waited for Lan Zhan to say something, but nothing came. He was too busy talking to Xiao Xingchen, and hadn’t overheard.

Jealousy was poison. Wei Wuxian had no reason at all to doubt Lan Zhan, and Xiao Xingchen was his friend, there was no way he had malice in mind. But sitting there crowded by Xue Yang was a kind of poison, too.

Wei Wuxian got up to take a walk. More to be away than with any particular destination in mind. He didn’t want to head to the bar, since the alcohol he’d already consumed was sitting funny in his stomach. He didn’t want to go to the dartboards, because Lan Xichen was playing a game against some seniors and Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure how to talk to Lan Xichen, right now. So he turned towards the bathrooms instead.

In the corridor, he happened to run across his sister making out with Jin Zixuan.

And that was one image he’d never needed in his brain.

It felt like it had been the longest day. And all at once, Wei Wuxian was done. He stumbled back to the table and grabbed Lan Zhan under the arms from behind, pulling him to his feet.

“Wh—”

“Let’s get a cab.” Wei Wuxian buried his face in Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

*

As mixed-up and mad as he was, Wei Wuxian still only wanted to be close to Lan Zhan. He cuddled up to him in the back of the cab to such a degree that their driver looked apprehensive. Wei Wuxian didn’t care. Fuck that guy.

He clung to Lan Zhan all the way up the drive, inside, and up the stairs. He wanted to climb inside Lan Zhan’s skin and disappear.

Once they’d reached their bedroom, Lan Zhan gently disentangled his limbs from Wei Wuxian’s. He brushed back Wei Wuxian’s hair. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What were you talking to Xiao Xingchen about, earlier?”

“Football. Turns out we like the same club. Why?”

Wei Wuxian pulled a face. He stumbled back, fumbling with his clothes. “I could talk about football. Probably.”

“Wei Ying.”

“Hmm?”

“You are jealous of my attention to others.”

“Well when you put it that way, it sounds bad.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan circled his arms around Wei Ying’s shoulders and pulled him back. “Then is it perhaps also bad that I like it?”

“What?”

“It is…gratifying. To know that you have such deep feeling for me.”

“Of course I do.”

“I apologize. I was trying to be social, and I thought you were busy with your friends. But you know I only ever have eyes for you, right?”

“If you say so.”

“Well. If you’re still mad at me, you can punish me. All night, if that’s what it takes.” He nodded suggestively towards the bed.

“Lan Zhan.”

“What? I’ve been a horribly inattentive boyfriend.”

“Mmm. This is true. All night, you said?”

“However long you need.”

*

Things looked better by the light of day. Wei Wuxian still had to figure out what was going on with both of his siblings. He wondered if he should do something about Xue Yang, or just let it be. He still felt insecure and unsure of so many things. But he could handle all of that. Especially if Lan Zhan was there along the way.

He could hear the shower running. He fumbled for his phone; he’d forgotten to charge it again, and it was dead as a doornail. So he reached over for Lan Zhan’s to see the time.

Afterwards, he couldn’t be sure why he did it. Some devilish impulse, something in him saying that if things felt so right, something had to secretly be wrong, and he just had to find that thing. So he unlocked the phone.

The camera roll was still almost entirely him, interspersed with a few shots of them together. He grinned, flipping through. And then somehow he ended up in the videos. Most of them only had the generically assigned numbers made when they were taken, but there was one named Your Smile. Bored, Wei Wuxian clicked.

“Hello? Is it working? Hello, hello.” Lan Zhan sounded tentative and far away. “Right, Song Lan, what do I do now?”

“What, do you need fucking cue cards? Play.”

And then Lan Zhan plucked the phone from Wei Wuxian’s hand and shut off the video.

“Don’t snoop.”

“Wh—Lan Zhan!”

“Just admit that you want to hear it.”

“Okay. I want to hear it.”

Lan Zhan had apparently been unprepared for this honesty. He clenched the phone in his hand and would not meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes.

“Later.”

“What the hell is it? Now I really want to know.”

“Later. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Wei Ying was trying to get Lan Wangji drunk.

He was extremely unsubtle about it, proposing some silly game that involved coin tosses. Winner got a question; loser got a shot.

Lan Wangji wished Wei Ying would just ask whatever questions he had. But he seemed to need the pretext of the game. Which meant, at least for him, they were difficult questions to ask.

He was also cheating.

The coin fell to the floor and Wei Ying rushed to cover it with his hand. And lo and behold, once it was on the table again it was heads, which meant that Lan Wangji had to drink, and answer.

(The answers were mostly monosyllables or glares. What other answer could there be for “Who was your high school crush?” or “When was your first kiss?” Too, the alcohol quickly made Lan Wangji lose the basic ability to form words. Wei Ying had really miscalculated there, not that Lan Wangji was in any position to tell him so.)  

Lan Wangji looked away for two seconds and didn’t even hear the flip, but surprise, heads again.

(“Did you ever finish writing that love song?”)

Usually, Lan Wangji would have indulged Wei Ying in anything. But he was pretty sure of what Wei Wuxian really wanted to ask him about, and he was feeling embarrassed by it. That video. It was childish, and desperate, and he really should have deleted it long ago.

He never should have made it in the first place.

But he had, and Wei Ying had almost seen it, and for some reason Lan Wangji couldn’t quite pick apart, that felt like complete disaster. Wei Ying clearly believed that it had been meant for someone else. Lan Wangji should just tell him…except for the fact that he could not.

So he didn’t feel like playing along, tonight. The third time Wei Ying tried to fish for proof that Lan Wangji had once liked someone other than him, Lan Wangji grunted and shoved away the glass. He climbed under the covers, fully clothed, mouth stale with the aftertaste of alcohol. This was unseemly; it was not proper to go to bed without washing up, but he was on the edge of losing consciousness, and he just wanted to give in.

*

The next morning, Lan Wangji joined his friends on the football field for some practice time. They passed the ball back and forth, and Lan Wangji told them how Wei Ying had almost found the video. They had helped him make it; they might understand.

“Why didn’t you just show it to him?” Jin Zixuan asked.

Or they might not.

“It’s personal,” Lan Wangji said, reluctantly.

Jin Zixuan snorted. “Last year, you were ready to post it on Youtube like some desperate Missed Connections ad. Suddenly it’s too personal?”

Lan Wangji scowled. “If you continue to tease me, I won’t provide you intel on Jiang Yanli.”

That got Jin Zixuan off the subject, as he’d hoped. “Wait. You have intel?”

“Mn. Perhaps there are some selective things I might tell you.”

“How do you know ‘selective things’ about Jiang Yanli?”

“We text.”

“You text?” Song Lan made this sound something akin to “You dance naked beneath the moon at solstice?”

Lan Wangji shrugged. “I had questions about indoor plants. She’s a skilled gardener.”

The others stared at him. Uncomfortable, Lan Wangji focused on kicking the ball. “I will share the location of her favorite café with you. If you promise not to do anything particularly rash.”

Song Lan broke down in hysterics at the idea of Jin Zixuan not being rash. Jin Zixuan hit him in retaliation.

“Just come with me,” he told Lan Wangji. “You can make sure I don’t cross a line and be my wingman at the same time. Since you’re such good friends, and all.”

“Can’t. We have the club service trip this week. We’re planting trees.”

Song Lan was suddenly very interested in this. “Which clubs are going? Cheerleading?”

“Mn, I do not think so. Music Club, of course. Swimming, Photography…possibly a few others. Why? I’m sure Nie Mingjue would let you tag along if you wanted.”

“Ah, no, I was just…wondering…”

“He’s just trying to find a way to talk to Wei Wuxian’s pretty cheerleading friend,” Jin Zixuan snitched, and then he was running frantically as Song Lan chased him across the field.

Lan Wangji shook his head in fond befuddlement and went back to drilling with the ball.

*

Jiang Yanli’s day was going about as good as a day could go. She was on the third hour of her lunch break (really, one of these days, they had to fire her. She sent up a prayer to the universe that today might be the lucky day), on her favorite couch right by the large street-facing windows of her favorite café, and she had a cinnamon scone, good black tea, and a trashy book on her tablet. Really, things were close to perfect.

Then she happened to glance out those large windows and saw Jin Zixuan heading right for her.

It was her own fault. Lan Wangji had texted to tell her that he’d let the location of the café slip, but she’d chosen to come anyway. She wasn’t going to avoid her favorite place just because Jin Zixuan might show up. But now he had, and she had to figure out how she felt about that.

Jin Zixuan caught sight of her and walked over, like it was all just serendipitous chance. “Ah, Jiang Yanli! Fancy seeing you here.”

Her stomach did a weird little flip, but she kept her composure. “Oh good. I was just wondering when my stalker would show up.”

Jin Zixuan smiled. He honestly, genuinely smiled.  

Perhaps Yanli should have been scared of him. He seemed…intense, and he kept popping up in her life and now would not go away. But though she was apprehensive she was also, despite herself, somewhat charmed. Jin Zixuan was like a big, slobbery puppy who’d imprinted on her. That could be annoying, but it could also be comforting. And maybe he could grow into the type of dog that would protect her.

Not that she needed protecting.

And she really needed to stop thinking in dog metaphors.

“You let all your stalkers kiss you like we did that night at the Coffin House?”

“I already told you, that was a mistake. It will not happen again.”

He shrugged and moved to sit next to her. “Fun mistake, though. Right?”

She put her bag on the seat before he could sit down, effectively blocking him. “What are you doing here?”

“I just happened by.”

Right. Driving twenty miles across town was “happening by.”

“I thought I’d sit and read a book for a while.” Accordingly, he dug into his backpack. And then looked increasingly frantic as no book came to hand.

Yanli wasn’t going to laugh. She wasn’t.

“Uh…must have left it in my bike bag. Back in a sec.”

He dashed out of the café, no doubt to find the nearest convenience store with a paperback rack. Jiang Yanli looked at her half-eaten scone with regret. And then she got up and left, because she didn’t know what to do about the problem of Jin Zixuan, and she didn’t want to find out what new mistakes she’d inevitably make once he came back.

*

Lan Zhan insisted on carrying both of their bags to the bus storage hold, which was kind of adorable but also left Wei Wuxian feeling vulnerable. Most people in their general circles knew that they were together, now, but this was his first time being with Lan Zhan so openly, with so many people around. They’d be spending two nights at the nature preserve, and in all six different clubs were attending. So…a lot of people. A lot of people who would see Lan Zhan as the kind of sweet person who carried all the baggage, and Wei Wuxian as a hanger-on who didn’t deserve him.

Which was a ridiculous thought. But Wei Wuxian couldn’t help having it.

Once the bags were settled, they boarded their bus. Early enough to get their pick of good seats, fortunately.

Lan Zhan stopped abruptly in aisle. “Xichen? What are you doing here?”

Lan Xichen looked up from his phone with a broad grin. “Ah, hello Wangji. Nie Mingjue invited me to tag along.”

“He did? But…Meng Yao is here.”

Lan Xichen briefly closed his eyes, and Wei Wuxian got the impression that this was a conversation the brothers had had before. “I don’t have a problem with Meng Yao.”

“But—”

“Wangji. It is in the past.” His voice was dark, but it suddenly brightened as he leaned around them and waved to someone behind them. “Hello, Jiang Cheng.”

Startled, Wei Wuxian turned and came face to face with his brother. Jiang Cheng stammered and looked away. “Uh. Hi.”

For a few awkward seconds there was a scramble, as Wei Wuxian thought he really should sit with his brother, and then Lan Zhan could sit with his brother, and then they’d all just be totally-cool-with-each-other, not-tense-at-all brothers. But…he wanted to sit next to Lan Zhan. Because it meant four hours of their legs pressed together, four hours of potentially holding hands. But also, because he wanted to get a look at Lan Zhan’s phone.

Jiang Cheng steamrolled through Wei Wuxian’s entire internal dilemma, pushing past the both of them and shoving himself in the aisle seat next to Lan Xichen, arms crossed defiantly. He stared at Wei Wuxian like he just dared him to say something about it.

Wei Wuxian felt it was wisest to back down.

He took the window seat directly in front of Lan Xichen, and Lan Zhan sat next to him. Lan Zhan immediately rested his head on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. It kind of seemed like he was pouting. Which, like everything else Lan Zhan did, was adorable.

Once everyone was settled and the buses were on the road, Wei Wuxian tapped Lan Zhan’s knee. “Hey. You awake?”

“Mn.”

“Can I borrow your phone? I want to listen to music but I forgot to charge mine.”

Lan Zhan dug around in his pocket and handed Wei Wuxian his phone, without moving from the way he was cuddled against him, half-asleep. Wei Wuxian plugged in his headphones and started scrolling.

“Won’t find it there,” Lan Zhan said, groggily. “Anyway, it’s password-locked.”

Wei Wuxian sighed. So much for that.

*

They arrived at the site early in the afternoon, where they’d have the rest of the day free before starting activities tomorrow. “Let’s drop our stuff in the cabin and then go for a hike,” Wei Wuxian suggested as they were waiting their turn to exit the bus. “I read that the trails around here are amazing.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agreed, taking his hand to help him down the steps. They went to collect their bags. Wei Wuxian had just hoisted his over his shoulder when the sky opened up and started pouring down rain.

Well. So much for that, too.

Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan, and all the others ran for the cabins. Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan found two cots next to each other, got settled in, and then they just had to wait. Along with their three dozen other roommates. No one was doing anything while that rain came down. There wasn’t even good wifi. They were stuck.

Wei Wuxian sulked through a nap, and he sulked through dinner, and he didn’t stop sulking until Lan Zhan found the one quiet moment where no one was looking to take his hand and kiss his knuckles. Wei Wuxian was bored and annoyed and he hated the rain…but he had Lan Zhan. One of those things weighed more than all the others.

The next morning, Nie Mingjue and the other club leaders explained assignments over breakfast. The weather had thankfully cleared. The music club trekked out to their assigned area, everyone carrying saplings or supplies. Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian chose a sapling and found a good spot to plant it.

It was nice to dig in the earth and just be surrounded by things that were green and alive. Wei Wuxian murmured soft, sweet things as he settled the roots of their tree in the hole they had dug. Lan Zhan, writing something on a wooden placard, made a half-smile.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re supposed to say nice things to plants. Helps them grow.”

“Your sister didn’t tell me that in any of her instructions.”

“My sister sings to her flowers. Not even a little bit kidding. What are you writing?”

Lan Zhan finished off his neat, precise script. “A name for our tree. If we come back here in ten years, we’ll be able to find which is ours right away.”

He turned the placard around. Nuisance Tree.

Wei Wuxian snorted, and without thinking he said, “Do you really think we’ll be together for ten years?”

Lan Zhan’s face fell.

Well. That had been the wrong move.

Wei Wuxian stammered, trying to cover up his mistake. Lan Zhan didn’t give him time to. “You’re right,” he said quietly. But then, after a pause, he met Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “I want to be together much longer than that.”

Wei Wuxian, crouched on his heels, almost fell over. Lan Zhan reached around the sapling to steady him.

“Hey,” he said, taking Wei Wuxian’s dirty hands in his. “Where’s your bracelet?”

Wei Wuxian looked down. “Shit. Did it fall off somewhere?”

They spent the next few minutes searching. Perhaps Wei Wuxian had accidentally buried it with the tree, or it had fallen off on the walk from camp. As they retraced their steps, Wei Wuxian grew increasingly frantic. Lan Zhan suggested that he had perhaps left it in the bathroom, or even forgotten it at home. But Wei Wuxian knew he’d had it on. He only ever took it off to bathe. It had been with him one minute, and gone the next, and now he didn’t have any idea what to do.

His breath was shallow as his mind spun out all the scenarios that explained why this was such a disaster. He’d taken a symbol of his feelings for Lan Zhan and just lost it, didn’t even know when or where. What did that say about those feelings? What if their relationship fell apart because Wei Wuxian couldn’t be trusted with important things?

At some point, Lan Zhan took him by the shoulders, studying him with concern. “Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian was pulled out of his imaginings of ten years from now, where, what if he didn’t even know Lan Zhan then? Or, what if he came back here and the tree was dead?

“I can make you a new bracelet.”

“But I don’t want a new bracelet. I want the old one.”

“Mn. I will ask Nie Mingjue to keep an eye out, and to spread the word to the other club leaders. I’m sure we will be able to find it.”

He started to do just that, but Wei Wuxian grabbed at his arm, pulled him back. “Lan Zhan…is it too dramatic to say that so many bad things have been happening to us, recently?”

Lan Zhan considered this. “I do not want to invalidate your feelings. But, what bad things?”

“Well…the bracelet, and the rain, and…other things. I just…”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan reached over to pat Wei Wuxian’s head, which turned into a caress. “Sometimes, my sweet Wei Ying, I think that you think too much. I promise you, if there are bad things, I will face them with you. But for now, let’s just try to find that bracelet.”

*

Instagram was boring during work hours. Twitter was dead, too. Jiang Yanli scrolled idly, hopelessly waiting for her attention to snag on something. But it was all the same old stale gossip about celebrities whose names she couldn’t even place to faces.

Then Jin Zixuan walked in the café. And Yanli had to pinch herself internally to keep from smiling in reflex.

He’d snagged her attention. That was it. That was all.

“Back again?” she said icily as he approached her table. “Don’t you have class or something?”

“Don’t you have work or something?” he asked back.

“Playing hooky. I’m trying to get fired.”

He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Why?”

“I don’t think we’re at that stage of sharing.”

This did not seem to faze him. He pulled out a paperback book and kicked his heels against the rung of his chair. “Ok.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s a nice café. I like it. So even though you ditched me last time, I wanted to come back.”

“I did not ditch you, I left when I was finished. I do not need your permission for that.”

He inclined his head. Damn it, it was not cute, the way his hair fell in his eyes. It was not.

“No. But I don’t need your permission to read, here, either.”

Jiang Yanli’s phone made a dull little click when she set it down on the table. “Jin Zixuan. What are you doing here?”

It was a question that encompassed a lot of things. Mainly, what was he doing in her life to begin with? It hadn’t been part of the plan.

Not that her plan had exactly been working out. That was not the point.

He shrugged, and smiled with a bit of wickedness. “I’m reading a book, of course. Anyway. You know you’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

“Let’s test the hypothesis. Give me time to miss you.”

He laughed.

Jiang Yanli was in so much trouble.

*

After dinner, the students pushed back the dining tables to the sides of the room and all gathered in a huddle in the center, where the club leaders were to regale them with scary stories while they binged on sugary snacks. Wei Wuxian hardly paid any attention, though it gave a few good excuses to cling onto Lan Zhan whenever gasps and shudders went through the room. The stories were clearly all the type of thing that had been passed down from senior student to junior student for countless school generations, and they were all worn a little thin.

But then Nie Mingjue took the floor.

He cut a pretty ominous and imposing figure all on his own. And when he started spinning some implausible story about a pine tree spirit in this very forest Wei Wuxian couldn’t help but be intrigued. Nie Mingjue really knew how to make a room focus on him. He paced back and forth, voice low as gravel, and told a tale of how the pine tree spirit had once been a spurned young lover who was cursed by the person they had loved. “It’s jealous of happy couples most of all,” Nie Mingjue intoned. “And if a person dares to show it insufficient respect, they too will be cursed to eternal loneliness.”

A few of the students scoffed. Meng Yao brayed aloud.

“You,” Nie Mingjue pointed to him. “Do you dare to disrespect the pine tree spirit?”

“I mean, I’m not going to let a tree determine the fate of my love life,” Meng Yao spat.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian felt like he was trapped in the middle of one of their games, again. Very few people in this room knew that Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao were actually together, but how they couldn’t tell from the way those two sparked and snarked at each other, Wei Wuxian couldn’t say.

Meng Yao was apparently filling an expected part of the script, though, because Nie Mingjue had a ready answer. “See what you feel when we visit. Come on, everybody. Field trip time.” He started going around the circle, encouraging students to get on their feet. “We’re going to visit the spirit. Cross it if you dare.”

Oh. So now they were going on a night hike through the woods to appease a fictional spirit. Sure. Okay.

Wei Wuxian clung to Lan Zhan’s side as they tramped through the dark, flashlights flickering like fireflies. He couldn’t help but note that the atmosphere was getting to him. It was very dark, and unusually cold, and Nie Mingjue seemed so committed to this bit…

A little ahead of them, Jiang Cheng was stomping fearsomely, radiating annoyance. A few different members of the Swimming Club tried to approach him, but he was resolute in his determined aloneness.

At the very front of the crowd, Lan Xichen was walking with Nie Mingjue in animated conversation. Wei Wuxian wondered if he’d been on this plan from the beginning or was just going along for the ride.

They followed a relatively easy path to a place they had all passed through this morning, but in the dark things were wild and strange. A small shrine was set up in front of a pine tree. Nie Mingjue continued his weird and inconsistent story, instructing that they would all pray to the spirit for blessings while another club leader passed out votive candles. “And if your candle goes out,” Nie Mingjue intoned at the last, “Well. That is the mark of the spirit’s displeasure. And the curse will be yours to bear.”

On the one hand, Wei Wuxian knew that this was all bullshit. He was not a credulous person; he did not believe in unseen powers and divine intervention. But on the other, it felt like he and Lan Zhan had been haunted lately by bad luck, at the least, or even something darker than that. It couldn’t hurt to plead with a made-up spirit to bless his relationship. Could it?

Accordingly, Wei Wuxian took his lit candle with very serious hands and bowed his head low.

Please let us be okay. He asked inside his mind. Please. I’ve never had anything as beautiful as this in my entire life, I will do anything to be good enough to keep it.

He dared a look only when Nie Mingjue gave the all-clear, and sucked in a breath of relief. His candle was still lit. He looked at Lan Zhan in his peripheral vision; Lan Zhan’s candle was also lit. That was good, right? That was surely some kind of sign, if he were the type of person to believe in things like signs.

Then something startled Meng Yao—Wei Wuxian didn’t even see what—and Meng Yao tripped, right over Wei Wuxian’s foot, and Wei Wuxian’s candle went flying, and, oops, the little shrine must have been soaked in kerosene because it went up like a torch.

Everyone jumped in to extinguish the flames except for Wei Wuxian himself, who stood there still as a statue. His thoughts spiraled into nothing but doom, doom, doom.

Eventually, he was called back to himself by Lan Zhan shaking him, gently. “Wei Ying? Wei Ying!”

Wei Wuxian shook his head to clear it. “Huh?”

“Are you alright? We’re going to go back, now. Can you walk alright?”

“What? Yeah, fine.” But when Lan Zhan reached for his hand, he pulled back, curling in on himself.

It was a long, cold walk back to the cabins.

*

Even though she’d obviously been slacking off at work, Jiang Yanli still had to attend monthly networking dinners with her bosses and potential clients. It was one of those things she’d grown up trained to do—make polite conversation, soothe people into feeling listened to, even when she wasn’t actually listening.

She was feeling particularly exhausted after this latest one, and even more so when she got out to the parking lot and realized that her rental had a flat tire.

For a second, she just stood there with her hands resting on the hood of the car. She could fix this. It would all be fine. She just needed a minute to collect herself, first.

The sound of a motorbike engine distracted her, and she instinctively looked over her shoulder, expecting to see a coworker. Instead, it was Jin Zixuan, looking almost poleaxed.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she sighed, wearily. She wasn’t prepared for their usual back-and-forth right now.

He turned off the idling bike and put up his hands. “I swear I wasn’t following you, this time.”

“Right.”

“Seriously. I was shopping for a birthday present for my mom, so I had to come to the fancy part of town. Do you have a spare tire in the back?”

Jiang Yanli pressed her thumbs into the corners of her eyes. “I’ll just call the rental company. They’ll take care of it.” She was so tired. She just wanted to crawl into the backseat of the car and sleep, right there, for a decade or two.

Jin Zixuan studied her, considering. “You can call them in the morning, right? Want to come somewhere with me?”

“Jin Zixuan, if you cut my tire to get me alone and at your mercy—”

His skin flared red under the streetlamps. “Fine. Whatever. Good luck to you.” He started up the ignition again.

“Wait!” Jiang Yanli said, surprising herself. He just looked at her. She studied the dirty ground, suddenly embarrassed. “Where…where would we go?”

He shrugged. “I know a good place where we can talk. Or not talk. Or I could just drive you back to your hotel, if you want. Save the taxi fare.”

This is not part of the plan! Her internal voice was screaming at her.

Well. Fuck that voice.

“Do you have another helmet?” she asked.

*

He drove her across town to the university, and led her to the roof of his faculty’s building, which miraculously did not have all the access points locked at night. Seemed like a security flaw…but the view was spectacular.

They’d stopped at a convenience store on the way, and now he handed her a still-cold canned drink. The crack of the tab was loud in the night.

“Did you have a bad date or something?” he asked, studying her work-functions dress that was now bunched and getting dirty as they sat on the rooftop. It was a McQueen. Once, she’d thought she cared about things like that.

She leaned back against the wall. “’Or something’. It was a work thing.”

“I thought you were trying to get fired.”

“I am. Won’t ever happen, though. I got the job in the first place because the CEO is my mom’s friend. Can’t work for my parents’ company, yet, so I have to get my experience here…and no matter what I do, they’ll never get rid of me.” 

She’d had a plan. She’d enjoyed pursuing her business degree well enough, and the idea was that once she graduated she would get precisely ten years of experience in the field, then bridge into taking over management functions of Jiang Holdings Ltd., while A-Cheng handled the legal end of things. Their parents would see that their business was safe in their childrens’ hands, and everyone would be happy, and everything would be just fine.  

And she’d wanted to travel. That was ultimately why she’d taken this job in particular, despite the involvement of her mother. But the constant pace—six months in Shanghai, six months in Bangkok, six months in Osaka (well…four. She’d nearly begged for the transfer back)—had left her feeling rootless.

She was two years into her ten year plan, and she was already so, so tired.

“What do you want to do?” she asked Jin Zixuan, to force herself to focus on something other than her disgusting self-pity.

He shrugged. “Not a clue.”

“How do you live like that? Seriously.”

“I just do, I guess. Something will work out. I’ll find a job here or there, marry the person I love, maybe make a kid or two. Just…life. It’s nothing much to worry about.”

Jiang Yanli snort-laughed, feeling a burn as soda rushed up the back of her nose. “Easy as that, huh?”

His answering smile was pleasant. “Easy as that. Anyway, what do you want to do?”

She should have given him the line she’d given her parents. The point-by-point plan. But here, she surprised herself again. “I’d like to own a florist shop,” she said. “Or a landscaping business. Maybe something that combines both.”

“So…maybe I’ll learn how to be a florist,” he suggested. He sounded completely serious.

Jiang Yanli stared at him, brow furrowed. He didn’t even have the grace to look the slightest bit embarrassed when he said “I already found the person I’d like to marry, so might as well take care of the career thing at the same time.”  

And, oh. She was going to make so many mistakes for this boy.

*

Lan Wangji woke in the middle of the night, his heart pounding fiercely. Disoriented, he sat up and breathed deep until he recollected where he was. He reached over for Wei Ying on the next cot. If he could just touch his arm, his shoulder, that would anchor him back to reality.

His fingers met empty sheets.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asked, softly, to no one. Wei Ying was gone.

Determined that panic was premature and silly, Lan Wangji got up and padded to the bathroom. Wei Ying was not there.

Premature or not, the panic fell over him in a wave.

He should have gone directly to Nie Mingjue, who was the nominal leader of this expedition. Instead, he wove through the cots until he found his brother. He shook his shoulders until he woke.

“Wangji?” Lan Xichen squinted, vision adjusting to the dark.

“Wei Ying is missing.”

Lan Xichen sprang into action right away, and Lan Wangji was grateful to let him. He followed his brother closely and they went to rouse Nie Mingjue, and then Jiang Cheng.

As Xichen explained to Jiang Cheng that Wei Wuxian was missing, Wangji hoped the young man would have his typical indifferent reaction, brush off any idea that this might be serious.

Instead, he seemed to go pale in the dark. “Shit. He used to do stuff like this when he was little.”

“Stuff like this?” Xichen asked.

“Running off. Hiding. Usually, we’d find him up a tree or hiding in the brush around the lakeshore.”

Lan Wangji keened. If Jiang Cheng was right, then Wei Ying was out there in the night, alone.

Xichen steadied him. “Wangji, we’ll find him. I promise. Jiang Cheng, where would he go?”

“Back to that shrine, maybe. We’ve never been here before, I don’t think he’d think of anywhere else to go.”

Nie Mingjue had roused a few of the others who were willing to tramp through the forest in the dark. He started handing out flashlights. “We’ll start there, then.”

What was left of the shrine, blackened and broken, was abandoned. Wei Ying was nowhere in the immediate vicinity. Once they’d determined this, Nie Mingjue started to break them off into pairs to search further afield. Jiang Cheng with Lan Xichen to go one way, the Photography Club and Swimming Club leaders to go another—Lan Zhan didn’t stick around to hear the rest. He pushed off into the forest alone, calling Wei Ying’s name. His brother called after him. He pretended not to hear.

He had to find Wei Ying.

After just a few minutes, it started raining again. The flashlight beam was so weak. Why would Wei Ying have come out here, like this? Why had he apparently spent so much of his childhood running off and hiding that it was notable to his brother, even now?

“Wei Ying? Wei Ying!”

“Fuck,” a small voice said, off to the right. It sounded not hurt or upset, but resigned.

Lan Wangji veered off to the right, crashing through the brush. “Wei Ying,” he said, a relieved breath.

Wei Ying was sitting on the ground of a small cleared area, not even trying to protect himself from the rain. He turned over his shoulder at Lan Wangji’s voice. He looked like a feral ghost.

“Oh. What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here? Why are you sitting on the wet ground? You’ll get pneumonia.”

“I twisted my ankle. I guess I got kinda lost. So I just wanted to rest for a—whoa!”

He heaved a heavy breath as Lan Wangji hoisted him up in his arms. Lan Wangji struggled to resettle his weight, and eventually pushed the flashlight into his hands. “Hold that please. Let’s go back.”

They circled around to take a shorter route back to camp. The rain was coming down like a typhoon. Finally, since he couldn’t see one meter in front of his face, Lan Wangji decided it would be best to stop until the storm passed. They were near the buses; luckily for them, no one had thought to lock them. He helped Wei Wuxian up into the bus and settled him into a seat, looking without success for something to help them dry off. They dripped onto the upholstery.

Wei Ying barked out a rough laugh. “Guess that curse is real, huh?”

“Stop it. We are not cursed.”

“We’re already keeping secrets from each other, aren’t we? I mean…isn’t that how we started out to begin with?”

Lan Wangji was tempted to ask what secrets, but he thought he might already know.  Wordlessly, he fumbled for his phone. It was miraculously functional, despite the deluge.

“Here.”

Wei Ying frowned. “What?”

“Take it. It’s what you wanted to see.”

Eyes wide, Wei Ying took the proffered phone, and pressed play.

“Hello? Is it working? Hello, hello. Right, Song Lan, what do I do now?”

“What, do you need fucking cue cards? Play.”

“I should say something, though. Uh. Right. Okay. So. You. I don’t know your name. I wish I did. I hope one day I will. I have something to tell you, though you may never see it. I like you.”

Wei Wuxian smiled down at past-Lan Wangji. “I know. I like you too.”

Lan Wangji had recorded that video the day he first saw Wei Ying. Literally within hours. He’d probably scared his friends with his fervor over his mystery boy, but they’d gamely pitched all kinds of ideas to try and find him. Somehow, the idea of the video had stuck. Lan Wangji had remembered a song from the concert that made him think of the boy’s bright smile. He looked it up, learned it as well as he possibly could in one hour, and then he’d sat down with his friends and a phone camera and just…played.

“I thought this was for someone else,” Wei Ying confessed, when the video was over.

“I know. You are not subtle.”

“But…why wouldn’t you just show this to me? Lan Zhan, it’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me, and you didn’t even know my name.”

“I was embarrassed. I…you know that I feel very deeply for you.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to scare you away. It was so difficult for us to just start, I didn’t want ruin everything by coming on too strong, too fast.”

Wei Ying shook his head. “Ah, Lan Zhan, my Lan Zhan. I love you so much.”

Lan Zhan looked up, sharply. “I. You.”

Wei Ying sighed exaggeratedly and slapped his hands on his knees. “Look, it’s stopped raining. Let’s get back before it starts again.”

Lan Wangji scrambled to his feet. “Can you walk?”

“I think so. It’s only a little sore. Help me down the steps?”

He did, standing at the bottom while Wei Ying fell into his arms. Once outside, they both stared up at the sky. The stars were dazzlingly bright.

Wei Ying held onto him. Lan Wangji ruffled his hair.

“You and I…we’re going to have ups and downs. Good times and bad times. But I trust that we are going to be okay, and I hope that you can trust that, too.”

Wei Wuxian smiled ruefully, hiding his face in Lan Wangji’s side. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be good with words.”

“Were those good words?”

“They were very good words.”

Lan Wangji pressed a kiss to the top of Wei Ying’s head. “Turn off that brain of yours sometimes. You think too much. I love you.”

Wei Ying held him lightly around the waist, and they stood there surrounded by stars, for a while.

Chapter Text

Though his clothes and hair were soaked, though the night air was chilling and his ankle still throbbed, Wei Wuxian was enjoying standing there in the road with Lan Zhan, looking up at the bright stars. Lan Zhan anchored him to the real world. Tethered him, whenever he thought he might float away.

Lan Zhan loved him.

And he loved Lan Zhan.

The fragile spell of peace was broken, however, as Nie Mingjue stomped into view. “Well, look who it is. The two idiots who don’t know how to use a phone so that their friends can stop searching through the woods in the middle of the night.”

Lan Zhan inclined his head in apology. “Forgive me, Nie Mingjue. We were distracted finding shelter from the rain and I didn’t think to alert anyone.”

The others—Wei Wuxian was quickly mortified to see just how many people had come out to find his dumb ass in the middle of the night—were slowly catching up. Nie Mingjue scowled at them. “Hmm. Well, I guess it all worked out for the best.” He held out a closed fist. “Anyway, look what I found.”

Wei Wuxian gasped when Nie Mingjue’s fist opened to reveal his bracelet. He snatched it up and immediately put it back on his wrist. “How? Where?”

“It was sitting right in the middle of one of the paths back there. Honestly I’m surprised no one saw it this afternoon, or when we were all trekking down to the shrine. It wasn’t even covered up by anything.”

“Thank you, Senior Nie.” He would glue this bracelet to his wrist if he had to. He was never, ever taking it off again.

Wet and tired, the group made their way back to the cabins. Careful not to rouse the other students, Lan Zhan dried Wei Wuxian’s hair, and insisted that he change into dry clothes. This meant his clothes, since Wei Wuxian had been reasonable and only brought the necessary amount of clothing for a two-night stay, but Lan Zhan had brought enough for four. Always prepared for anything, that boy.

He wished they could share a cot, but that wasn’t the brightest idea with so many people around. They held hands, though, bridging the distance between them, and even when they both fell asleep their fingers stayed interlaced.

*

A few days later, as he was getting out of class, Wei Wuxian checked his phone and realized that Uncle Jiang had called. Guilt swamped him: he’d been avoiding their weekly check-ins for a few weeks, now, pleading busyness. Well, better late than never. He found a quiet corner of the building and called back.

“Wei Ying?”

“Hi, Uncle. What’s up?”

On the other end, his uncle shuffled through some papers or something that caused a bit of interference. “I thought I’d treat you to dinner, if you’re up for it.”

“You’re in town?”

“Came in for a few days of meetings. What do you say?”

Wei Wuxian kicked his heel idly against the wall. “Sure. Is this a family-only dinner, or can I bring someone?” That was what people in relationships did, right? Met their partner’s pseudo-parental figures? Sure, he hadn’t actually said anything to Uncle Jiang about Lan Zhan, yet, but that bandaid had to come off eventually.

“I was actually thinking it could be a you-and-me dinner. We haven’t done anything just the two of us for too long.”

Wei Wuxian suddenly felt apprehensive, though he couldn’t pin down why. “Sure,” he said, overcompensating with a cheerful tone. He got the address—a Western-style steakhouse—and the reservation time, and promised his uncle that he could get there on the bus, he didn’t need to be picked up. Then he skipped his next class and immediately headed for home, because he had to find the right outfit to wear.

*

Never let it be said that Wei Wuxian couldn’t clean up well. He’d chosen black jeans and the black-and-white checked dress shirt that he’d last worn for his high school graduation, along with a well-tailored dark-grey blazer. He’d also stolen a light-blue tie from Lan Zhan’s side of the closet. It made him feel better, somehow, to wear it. And it contrasted with his shirt in a way that looked intentionally fashionable rather than colorblind.

His uncle greeted him with a half-hug, and they sat down to small talk about Wei Wuxian’s classes and interesting reports from home. Once the waiter had come and gone, Uncle Jiang got down to what he really wanted to say, a rueful expression on his face.     

“Your aunt and I are concerned.”

He always called her that—your aunt—though the woman herself had always insisted on Wei Wuxian’s calling her Ms. Yu. (She would have preferred that he didn’t call her anything at all, but this was their compromise.)

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard. “Oh?”

“We’ve seen some things on your social media. You moved out of the dorms and in with a boy?”

“Ah—well—yeah. I’ve been meaning to tell you about that. He’s really great. His name is Lan Zha—”

“I know who Lan Wangji is. In fact, I know who his family is.”

Wei Wuxian picked at his food, suddenly finding the plate more interesting than looking at his uncle. “Oh. Right, of course. Well, we’re dating. So. That’s the story.”

Jiang Fengmian sounded dismissive when he replied. “Casual college flings are one thing, but you can’t afford to get too serious about this boy.”

Wei Wuxian set down his knife and fork and looked at his uncle.

“Why not, exactly?”

“Like it or not, you represent this family. You—all three of you—have to be careful to present an image that will look good to our clients.”

“What are your fancy clients doing looking up what some random college freshman is posting on social media?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Is the point that we’re both guys? Afraid your clients are going to flee en masse from queer cooties?”

“It’s a real issue. Don’t be naïve enough to pretend that it’s not.”

“So what, I’m supposed to just…find some girl? For the sake of the business?”

“You like girls.”

“Sometimes. I also like Lan Wangji. I love him, Uncle Jiang. I know maybe you’ve forgotten what that feels like, but—”

“Don’t.” There were few times in his life where Wei Wuxian had ever heard his voice go that dark, that sharp.

He took a swig of red wine. It went down bitter.

“Are you telling me all this because you think your clients won’t like the fact that I’m dating a guy, or do you not like the fact that I’m dating a guy?”

“Don’t try to make me into a villain, here. You know I’ll always love and support you. But I worry about you.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

Jiang Fengmian’s patience was clearly wearing thin. He steepled his hands in front of his face, the pose he made when he was thinking very carefully about something.

“People make mistakes when they’re young. God knows I made my own.”

“Was my mom one of your mistakes?”  

“Wei Ying.”

Sighing, Wei Wuxian pushed aside his plate. “Well, good talk, I guess. If you’re gonna officially renounce me, though, make sure she’s there too. I’ll have some things I want to say to her.”

“That isn’t what this is. Will you just listen to me?”

Wei Ying crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? You think you can magically say something that will make me want to break up with Lan Wangji?”

“Of course not. I just want you to be aware…you have to think of practicalities, sometimes. His family is very powerful, and his uncle is going to want him to make a business marriage eventually.”

Wei Wuxian snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“He’ll need heirs, which you can’t give him.”

“He’s twenty.” 

“And one day he won’t be. I’m just saying, perhaps it will be easier to end things now, before either of you get too hurt by what the future brings. And anyway, for my own sake, is it so bad that I have hopes for grandchildren?”

“Jiang Cheng’s only seventeen, he’s much too young to be a mother.”

“Wei Ying, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you. Don’t be flip.”

“I’m being serious. Grandchildren? You think this is the argument that’s going to sway me?”

“I need you to think. Don’t be guided by your emotions. I know that’s difficult, but try. What kind of real future do you have with this boy?”

“Look…it’s my relationship, I will figure my own way through it. And you don’t get to interfere, she doesn’t get to interfere, Lan Qiren doesn’t get to interfere. If it doesn’t work out, then that’s on me and him to decide. But if it does work out…couldn’t you just be happy for me?”

He didn’t stay to hear what his uncle had to say in response to that. He couldn’t stay. He fled, feeling ill, and refused to look back.

*

Lan Zhan was still up when Wei Wuxian got home, practicing in the living room. There was going to be a Battle of the Bands, Wei Wuxian vaguely remembered, and Lan Zhan had been diligently preparing. He stopped playing when Wei Wuxian came in, but Wei Wuxian didn’t mind the noise, and gestured for him to continue while he trudged upstairs.

He felt mostly numb, but his stomach hurt, too. He didn’t know what to do. He wished the last few hours had never happened.

Lan Zhan came upstairs as Wei Wuxian was finishing his shower. “Everything alright?”

“Sure.”

“How was dinner?”

“Okay…ah, Lan Zhan, I’ve got kind of a bad stomachache, I just want to go to sleep.”

“Do you want me to get you some medicine?”

Wei Wuxian curled up on the mattress. “No, no. Just…you can keep practicing, if you want, it doesn’t bother me. But I just need to sleep.”

“I’ll come to bed. If you need anything, wake me up and tell me right away. Promise?”

He was so good. And how had Uncle Jiang been able to make something so good feel so vile? Wei Wuxian pushed back tears. He held his hands in a tight fist at the center of his abdomen, feeling Lan Zhan get under the sheets beside him.  

“Do you want to have kids?” he blurted.  

If Lan Zhan was taken aback by the question, he didn’t show it. He considered it carefully. “I’ve never really thought of it. I suppose, one day, if the circumstances are right. Why? Do you want children?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You sound distressed.”

“I’m tired. That’s all.”

*

Jin Zixuan stared up at the imposing office building. It was probably not his brightest idea to be here. But when he’d texted Jiang Yanli earlier, she’d surprised him by actually responding. She was at work, she’d said. He was immediately skeptical—she’d outright told him before that she avoided the place at all costs. But then she’d dropped a hint that she wouldn’t mind catching dinner when work was done—okay, she didn’t exactly say that, since they were still being coy with each other, but he could read between the lines. And she’d provided the address. So he’d hopped on his bike and just gone.

He waited for a long time outside the building, watched the work crowd as they swelled through the doors throughout the early evening and the place mostly went dark. She was nowhere to be seen. So he’d sent a couple of follow up texts.

Got caught up, she finally answered. Rain check?

As soon as he got that text, he made his decision. He drove around the corner to a noodle shop and got as much take-away as he could carry. And then he went back to the now sparsely-populated building—the security guard only saw a delivery boy, and waved him right through—and went in search of Jiang Yanli.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, startled, when he found her alone in her office block.

He held up the take-out. “I bring sustenance. It’s so late. What are you still here for?”

She massaged her eyes. “Gotta do some catching up. I’ll probably be here for a few more hours.”

“Well…then, I’ll be here too. Unless you want to call the security guard and throw me out into the street. He seemed pretty invested in watching WandaVision, though; it would be a shame to interrupt him.”

As usual, she looked unmoved by his attempts to be charming, but he felt a warmth from her, regardless. She reached for one of the bags of food. “Let’s see what offerings you’ve brought me, first, and then I’ll decide. Come on, I’ll show you our fabulous break room.”

After they ate, she went back to her desk and he followed behind. “What are you doing?” he asked, more to make conversation than anything else.

“I have to write up a bunch of reports, but that means I have to transcribe notes first. And there’s a lot of notes. It’s taken me a lot longer than I thought it would.”

“I could help.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Why not? I mean, as long as there’s not sensitive or confidential information, I guess. But I can type. You got a computer I can use?”

She went to someone else’s desk and retrieved a laptop. She set that up and presented Jin Zixuan with a giant stack of papers. “If you’re sure. Just type this all up in one document; I’ll figure out how to format it all when you’re done.”

“No problem.” He cracked his knuckles and pulled out his reading glasses from his jacket. “I got this.” He caught Jiang Yanli gaping at him and suddenly felt shy. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Um. Cute glasses.”

Jin Zixuan refused to let her see him smile at that, but he suddenly decided that his glasses were going to have to be an everyday accessory, now. There was no way around it.

*

Jin Zixuan woke to light hitting him at an unexpected angle. His neck cracked as he sat up, and realized that he had fallen asleep at an office desk, amidst a pile of papers. He fumbled with his glasses, looking around for a clock, and saw that it was almost 6 am.

They’d meant to be done four hours ago, but they both must have drifted off to sleep.

As suspected, when he looked around the cubicle corner he saw Jiang Yanli with her head pillowed on her arms. He really couldn’t get over what the sight of her did to him, every single time. It wasn’t like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, but whatever it was about her just made his heart contract, like no one else ever had.

It was cold in the building. Without thinking too hard about it, Jin Zixuan grabbed his jacket and laid it lightly over her shoulders.

Jiang Yanli shifted, instinctively pulling the edges of the jacket closer around her. And then she started to wake up. Sadly. Jin Zixuan could have watched her sleep for hours.

“What,” she said, blearily, though a stretch.

“We forgot to set an alarm,” Jin Zixuan said. “It’s early.”

“Oh.” She suddenly realized that the weight on her shoulders was his jacket. “What is this? Geez, it’s like you live in a romantic drama.”

“You were shivering,” Jin Zixuan embellished. He propped himself against her desk, shamelessly trying to get a closer look at her. “Anyway, if this was a romantic drama your boyfriend would probably walk through the door right now or something.”

He’d hardly finished saying it when a masculine throat-clearing sounded. Startled, Jin Zixuan turned around. Yanli leaned around him to see. “Oh, hello Senior Zhou.”

A handsome, well-dressed man stood before them, looking amused. Jin Zixuan was suddenly conscious of his wrinkled clothes, and that his hair probably stood up at crazy angles.

“Who’s this?” the intruder asked, lightly.

“This is my friend, Jin Zixuan. He was keeping me company last night. I know that’s probably against policy or something, but…well, anyway, I got the reports done. Jin Zixuan, this is one of my bosses, Zhou Bai.”

The man snorted. “Boss. Please. Don’t be so formal, I’ve told you. So, Jin Zixuan, are you trying to get a leg up on the internship candidacy?”

“Uh…”

Jiang Yanli smacked him, not at all surreptitiously, in the side, to shut him up. “He’s just a friend. My brother’s friend, really. My brother’s boyfriend’s friend, even.”

She was really babbling. It would probably be adorable, if Jin Zixuan wasn’t too preoccupied feeling mortified, caught out in this situation.

Zhou Bai seemed to find the whole thing immensely entertaining. “Well in that case, have you invited him to your going away party? A brother’s boyfriend’s friend is certainly always welcome.”

Jiang Yanli’s eyes widened. “Going away party?” Jin Zixuan asked, startled.

“Yes, we’re so sad to lose her, but greener pastures, and all that. You should come, Jin Zixuan. It’s going to be a great time.” 

*

“Welcome to Things I Hate With Jiang Cheng, episode two. Disgusting porridge edition.”

The porridge-stall owner glared at them. Wen Ning swallowed hard and tried to make a placating gesture. Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes and swirled his plastic spoon through the grey mush in his bowl.

“Fuck, Jiang Cheng, how do you find this shit?”

“I have bad-food radar. It’s my curse.”

“I can’t believe you’re making us do another one of these videos,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. He tentatively took a bite, threw the spoon down in despair.

“Look, it’s not my fault the media studies professor loved my genius idea and wants me to continue it. Can you guys please give some reaction? Talk about the flavor or something.”

“It tastes like it was made from old tires,” Nie Huaisang said.

“Good, more like that. Wei Wuxian, why aren’t you talking?”

Wei Wuxian started. He didn’t realize they’d started filming. “What? What’s going on?”

Jiang Cheng scowled at him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I just have a stomachache.”

“Eat this crap, then,” Nie Huaisang suggested. “It will probably cure you.”

“Not so loud,” Wen Ning said, casting a wary eye at the stall owner.

Jiang Cheng set down his videorecorder. “Did you see Dad’s in town? He wants me and Yanli to meet him.”

“Mn,” Wei Wuxian said, neutrally.

“Me and Yanli, and not you. Which was specified.”

“Oh.”

“Did something happen? Wei Wuxian, did you do something stupid?”

He couldn’t even muster the energy to get angry about that barb. “Why am I automatically the one who did something stupid? Maybe your dad was the one who acted out of line.” Maybe he’s a big, bigoted homophobe, he thought, but didn’t dare say. Because he didn’t want to believe that Jiang Fengmian really felt like that, underneath it all. Surely, he’d only been speaking from a place of concern. Surely, if he only understood…

“You really don’t look good,” Wen Ning commented. “Did something happen?”

Wei Wuxian gave up on looking at the porridge, and set his bowl aside. “Nah. Look…can I ask you guys something? Do you think college relationships ever work out?”

“Relationships are a trap,” Nie Huaisang said, automatically.

“That’s not fair,” Wen Ning said. “Anyway, Wei Wuxian…I think they can. Sometimes. It’s not about when you meet someone or where, right? It’s just…do you work well together?”

“What did my dad say to make you think about relationships?” Jiang Cheng wanted to know.

“Nothing. Never mind. I just…don’t you think Lan Zhan deserves someone better than me?”

Jiang Cheng huffed a dark laugh. “Undoubtedly. But he’s so gone on you, that doesn’t matter.”

“You’re perfect for each other,” Wen Ning said, much nicer than Jiang Cheng. “Everyone can see that.”  

“Not everyone. Apparently.”

“Really, what’s gotten into you?” Nie Huaisang asked. “You’re so mopey, today.”

“I just wanna go home. Jiang Cheng, will you tell Professor An that I have a stomachache? He might believe it, coming from you.”

*

“Oh, look, it’s Jiang Yanli’s friend,” Zhou Bai announced to the group at her going away party. She looked up from her wine glass, taken off guard. Zhou Bai leaned confidingly close to the others at the table. “You’ve got to see this kid. It’s hilarious.”

Yanli wasn’t sure what was supposed to be hilarious, or why Zhou Bai sounded so barbed. But she bit her tongue. No sense in making enemies on her way out the door.

Jin Zixuan stood in the doorway of the restaurant, looking lost and out of place. He was wearing jeans and a plain Henley. Apparently, he’d missed the memo about the tone of this party: this was a wine and tapas bar, and everyone from her office was dressed in impeccably-tailored designer suits and dresses. Yanli’s dress had probably cost more than Jin Zixuan’s motorbike.

She should have warned him. But she hadn’t actually thought he would come.

In any case, he smiled gamely when Zhou Bai called out to him, and came to take the seat next to Yanli.  He ordered a soda (“I’m driving,” he explained, apparently unfazed by her colleagues’ obvious derision), and tried to keep up with the conversation. Which was somewhat difficult as he was an outsider and had no knowledge of their company or experience in their business.

But he managed better than Jiang Yanli, who felt like she’d completely lost the power of speech.

“So, where did you two meet?” the woman on the other side of Zhou Bai wanted to know.

“Oh, a sem—” Jin Zixuan cut off when Yanli kicked him beneath the table. She didn’t want her colleagues to know about the way she wandered around every city she lived, looking for people to guide her.

He recovered quickly, with a smile. “—School. A school seminar. Her brother was doing a speech.”

“You’re still an undergrad? How old are you?”

“Ah…that is, I guess I’m a little younger than her, but who cares about that? I don’t. Anyway, I heard this was a goodbye party? Where are you going this time, Jiang Yanli?”

And now she felt guilty for not telling him about the transfer, either. Which was silly. She didn’t owe him news about the ins and outs of her job. Only her parents knew right now, anyway.

“Seoul, this time,” Zhou Bai announced, gravely. “We’re going to miss her; she did wonders for the program here. But it’s best to get a feeling for each of the regional offices in the first few years, before settling. Don’t you think, Jiang Yanli?”

“Sure,” she agreed, weakly.

“What are your plans after graduation, young man?” Yanli’s head supervisor wanted to know.

“Nothing concrete. Get my degree and then just…find what works, I guess. I’m thinking of going into landscaping.”

The supervisor chortled. “You need a degree for that? Anyway, how do you think you will be able to support our lovely Yanli with that attitude?”

Yanli was about to melt through the floor.

Jin Zixuan only sipped at his soda. “Well, this isn’t the twentieth century or anything. Can’t she be the one to support me?”

The others found this hilarious. Yanli wondered if Jin Zixuan even realized that he was being laughed at. If he cared.

She reached for his hand underneath the table and squeezed. “Can I talk to you for a second? Privately?”

Someone made a ribald joke as she left the table, but she forced her posture straight. He followed; they ended up outside, where it was easier to think. Jin Zixuan took a deep, exhausted breath.

“So, that was fairly terrible. No wonder you hate going to work, those people are awful.”

“What are you doing here?” she spat, so mad that he had put himself through this for no good reason.

“I mean, I thought it was going to be a normal party. What are you doing? You were like a completely different person in there. And Seoul? When did that happen? Were you even going to tell anyone, or were you just going to pack up and go?”

“It’s a part of the job. No one cares, anyway.”

“Your brothers care. I care. I mean, if you have to go, you have to go, but can’t you at least be decent enough to say something about it?”

“I guess I just thought…talking about it makes things real. And I don’t want to go.”

“So don’t go.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It could be. Are we done, here? I’m gonna go finish my soda and let your coworkers laugh at me for a little while longer. That way at least they won’t bother you.”

He moved to head back inside. Yanli grabbed his forearm. “Wait. Could we just…not? Take me somewhere.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care. Away from here.”

*

Wei Wuxian could not stop thinking. He couldn’t concentrate in class, couldn’t really focus on anything.

He wasn’t going to break up with Lan Zhan because his uncle thought it best. What did his uncle know? This wasn’t Romeo and Juliet. There wasn’t some inter-family blood feud. He’d probably been making that up about Lan Qiren’s disapproval to bolster his own case, anyway. Wei Wuxian had met the guy. He hadn’t seemed overly enthusiastic about his nephew’s behavior at the time, but he knew that Lan Xichen was gay, he probably knew about Lan Zhan, and as far as Wei Wuxian could tell he was mostly okay with it. Jiang Fengmian didn’t even know Lan Qiren personally, only through a few degrees of separation. So that argument hadn’t held any water. 

And yet. It kept echoing and echoing through his head.

Lan Zhan deserved better than Wei Wuxian. He had always deserved better, would always deserve better.

What happened when Lan Zhan realized that himself? Where would that leave Wei Wuxian?

He got home to find that Lan Zhan had cooked dinner. Stir-fried vegetables and rice. Healthy, and gentle for Wei Wuxian’s stomach.

Damn it, he didn’t deserve this.

He picked at the food, unable to stomach more than a few bites, no matter how sweet the gesture. Lan Zhan watched him with concern.

“Have you eaten anything at all today? Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

“I’m fine. It’s fine. How was practice? Have you guys worked out your setlist for the Battle of the Bands?”

“Mn. Well, we only get to play three songs, and it’s been difficult to narrow it down. I think things are going well, though.”

“That’s good. Hey, do you want to make a song video tonight? Maybe something that didn’t make the cut for the performance? We haven’t done that in a while, it could be fun.”

“I’m somewhat tired, and you’re not feeling well. Another time.” 

“Sure. I guess.”

Lan Zhan came to him and gently touched his face, staring at him for an uncomfortably long time. Feeling awkward, Wei Wuxian pulled away. “Thanks for making dinner. I’ll clean up.”

“Wei Ying, you should rest.”

“I’m fine. I promise. Go take your shower, I’ll clean up down here and come up to bed.”

Lan Zhan was clearly reluctant, but eventually he did go. Wei Ying put away the food, washed the dishes. Moving around and doing things with his hands did make him feel oddly better, even if his brain was still a whirl. Capitalizing on his renewed energy, he went from cleaning the kitchen to cleaning up the living room, putting up Lan Zhan’s guitars and straightening his sheet music.

A page in Lan Zhan’s handwriting caught his eye. Wei Wuxian was slowly getting better at reading music, and as he looked at the notes written neatly across the page, he could almost hear them. The half-realized snippet of song triggered a memory.

I just played you a love song.

Pretty. Did you write that?

It is a work in progress.

This was it, Wei Wuxian realized. At least, he was pretty sure. This was the song Lan Zhan had been writing all the way back on that day, when he was already in love with Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian thought they were only pretending.

Wei Wuxian was going to break his heart someday. It was inevitable.

Wouldn’t it be so much better if Wei Wuxian just let Lan Zhan break his heart first?

Suddenly, he couldn’t control himself. He raced up the stairs to throw up in the toilet; mostly bile came out, because he hadn’t eaten much of anything at all.

Startled, Lan Zhan shut off the shower and came out. He knelt by Wei Wuxian, rubbing his back. He hadn’t even grabbed a towel first; he was just dripping all over the floor.

“Love, are you alright? I really think—”

“I’m fine, Lan Zhan.”

“Why won’t you talk to me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not. You’re perfect.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Wei Wuxian shakily got to his feet and brushed his teeth. He avoided Lan Zhan’s gaze in the mirror.

“There’s nothing to understand. There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve just been…off, and I’m sorry. But I’ll be better.”

Lan Zhan grabbed him in a hug, pressed their foreheads together. “Wei Ying, you only have to be you. You know how much I love you, right?”

“I know.” Wei Wuxian was trembling. Lan Zhan loved him so much that it was…too much. When they fell, they’d have so far down to go.

He closed his eyes, swallowed hard, and clung to Lan Zhan. “I know.” It was all that he could say. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian resolved himself. So what if he wasn’t the kind of person Lan Zhan truly deserved? All he had to do was be the perfect enough boyfriend that Lan Zhan thought he was. He’d fake it as long as he could before Lan Zhan woke up to reality. It would hurt, whenever that happened, but at least he’d know he’d done his absolute best in the meantime.

Except, it turned out that his best was a disaster.

In the morning he woke up early—well, more accurately, never slept at all—to beat Lan Zhan to breakfast. Setting the table went fine, and he thought he plated the fruits Lan Zhan liked very prettily. But then, all of a sudden, the eggs were burning (how did you burn eggs?) and then the fucking spatula he tried to rescue them with was melting, and then the smoke alarm was going off, and Wei Wuxian was internally screaming and externally flailing.

Lan Zhan came swiftly but calmly down the stairs and grabbed the fire-extinguisher, turning what was left of the eggs (and the spatula, and the stove burner, and half of the sink) into a suppressant-foam mess.

“Uh…” Wei Wuxian hastened to open the windows and turn off the alarm, avoiding Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“What happened?”

“Oh. Well. I thought it would be nice if I made breakfast?”

“Mn. Fruit will be sufficient, Wei Ying.”

“Heh. Right. Well…guess I’d better get started cleaning all this up.”

“It can wait. Sit. Eat. Does your stomach still hurt? Are you sure you’re feeling better?”

“I feel great,” Wei Wuxian lied.

*

The hits just kept on coming.

He accidentally dropped Lan Zhan’s expensive moisturizer; the packaging cracked, and half of it spilled out on the bathroom floor.

As he was helping Lan Zhan carry instruments up to the music club room for his band practice, he tripped on the stairs and almost lost the gut-string guitar (thank heavens for sturdy cases).

He went to get bottled waters for all the band members—being a perfect boyfriend meant also being perfect for the people around him—but the first one in the row got stuck against the glass, creating a blockage that could not be undone without a vending machine tech with a key, or Nie Mingjue to angrily shake the machine down. Neither one was close at hand, alas. So instead he had to run to the convenience store and run back, sweaty and breathless, with water that was downright tepid.

He sat sentry in the music room, running to fetch anything Lan Zhan needed, trying to guess what he might need before Lan Zhan even knew it himself.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan finally snapped, when Wei Wuxian tripped over a cord for the third time. “Go home.”

“But—”

“I don’t need you here. Go home.”

Ouch. He didn’t mean it like that, he didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t…Wei Wuxian slipped out of the club room, head down. I don’t need you.

His stomach hurt so bad.

He wandered vaguely in the direction of a bus stop, but pretty soon he was almost doubled-over with the pain of it. It was late, and not many people were around, so Wei Wuxian stopped trying to fake it. He was having trouble catching his breath. His brain felt spinny, and not in a fun, drunk kind of way.

I don’t need you.

Distracted, Wei Wuxian ran right into someone with his shoulder. The other person stumbled back, then started apologizing. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention, I—Wei Wuxian?”

Wei Wuxian looked up to see Xiao Xingchen. “Oh. Hi.” A new tendril of pain shot through his stomach and he crumpled. “Ow, fuck.”

Xiao Xingchen’s eyes widened. “What happened? Are you sick?”

“Just—” Wei Wuxian’s teeth clacked together.

“You look awful, let me get you to a hospital.” He looked around helplessly. “I don’t have a car. Should I call an ambulance?”

“Don’t,” Wei Wuxian gasped. “Fine.”

“Clearly not. Oh, dear.” He scanned the area, and then perked up. “Excuse me! Yes, you. Can we borrow your car? It’s an emergency.”

“Don’t solicit rides from strangers,” Wei Wuxian tried to say, but it came out a strangled gasp.

“Wei Wuxian?” someone asked, and Wei Wuxian looked up to see that the person Xiao Xingchen had called out to was Song Lan. Boy, he was just running into everyone he knew and did not want to see, today.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know, he’s having trouble speaking. Please, can you help?”

Song Lan must have agreed, because there was a scramble and then Wei Wuxian found himself in the backseat of a car. He curled over his knees. Xiao Xingchen rubbed his back in little circles; Wei Wuxian couldn’t bring himself to say that this comforting gesture hurt like knives.

They reached the hospital, and Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen helped him in. After innumerable nurses and doctors and sedatives, the diagnosis was in. Wei Wuxian had been experiencing a panic attack.

So, that was mortifying.

When the symptoms waned, Wei Wuxian felt wrung out and empty. “Please don’t tell Lan Zhan about this,” he implored Song Lan.

Song Lan stared at him, stonily. “I don’t think I can make that promise. What happened between you two?”

“Nothing happened. Just…I will tell him.” He had no intention of doing that, but Song Lan didn’t need to know it. “So don’t say anything.”

Song Lan scowled, but didn’t put up any further protest.

“I need another ride, though.”

*

Thankfully, Lan Zhan wasn’t at home by the time Song Lan dropped Wei Wuxian off. He half-expected that Song Lan would play bodyguard or something, anyway, escorting him in the house and waiting for Lan Zhan to show up. But once Wei Wuxian got out of the car, Xiao Xingchen got into the passenger seat he had vacated, crawling right through the gap between the seats and curling up like his legs weren’t insanely long hazards in such a venture, and Song Lan stared at him wonderingly. Wei Wuxian knew that he was in the clear; he’d just been effectively been pushed out of Song Lan’s thoughts—possibly for all time.

He headed inside and went right for a bag.

He only packed for a few days; it would take time to clear out all of his stuff, he’d need to coordinate with Lan Zhan to do that…it was just a lot to think of, right now. All he knew was that he couldn’t stay here right now.

After several long minutes of deliberation, he took off his bracelet and put it on the night stand. Lan Zhan would see it, and know.

It wasn’t fair to do it this way. He knew that. But he really didn’t know what else he could do.

Break all ties. Quick and easy.

Just he was about to head downstairs, he heard the car pull in the drive. So, of course. Not quick and easy at all.

The door opened and closed. “Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan called out hesitantly, noticing the light on upstairs.

Wei Wuxian’s grip tightened around the bag strap. And then he walked downstairs.

“What’s going on? Why do you have a bag?”

“I’m going to stay with Jiang Cheng for a while.”

“What—why?” His gaze narrowed on the hospital bracelet on Wei Wuxian’s right wrist. “What happened?”

Wei Wuxian slipped his right hand behind his back. “Nothing.”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m—Lan Zhan, I don’t know what to say to you. I’m a fucking mess of a person, ok? And yes, I was trying to hide that, but I can’t anymore. I just can’t.”

“You’re not a mess. Please. Just talk to me.”

Talk. Right. He could do that. 

“It’s too much. Us. Loving you. It’s too much.”

Lan Zhan’s jaw popped.  “Fine. I’ll drive you to campus.”

Wei Wuxian huffed out a startled laugh. “I break up with you and you just nicely offer to drive me somewhere?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes went cold. “Are we breaking up? Is that what’s happening?”

“I…I don’t know. I’m not—I can’t think straight right now, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry. I need some space.”

Lan Zhan’s fingers clenched around his keys. “Alright, then let’s go.”

“Some space alone.” Wei Wuxian pushed past him and headed out the door. “I—I really am sorry.”

Lan Zhan did not turn around or in any way acknowledge that. Which was only what Wei Wuxian deserved.

*

Jiang Cheng took his sweet time answering the door. When he saw that Wei Wuxian was on the other side of it, his face fell. “Oh. What did you do, now?”

“Fucked up worse than usual. Still got a bed for me, or did you push them together to make yourself a double?”

Jiang Cheng sighed and stepped back. “Come in, already.”

*

Wei Wuxian skipped class and spent the next day in bed, doomscrolling. Somehow the news had already gotten out, and it ran like wildfire through the Wives’ chat group. Lan Wangji was back on the market. Wei Wuxian was a traitorous swine who’d never deserved him. Many valid points were raised.

Sometime after Jiang Cheng had returned from the cafeteria bearing Styrofoam containers of dinner which Wei Wuxian politely refused, he forcibly ripped the phone from Wei Wuxian’s hand. “Stop reading that trash.”

Wei Wuxian pouted and grabbed after the phone. Jiang Cheng threw it across the room to his own bed.

Heaving a great sigh, Wei Wuxian sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. “You understand why I’m here, right?”

“Not at all. Do you understand?”  

Before Wei Wuxian could formulate a reply, Jiang Cheng’s phone rang. He actually picked it up. Wei Wuxian stared at him in shock; he only ever talked on the phone with his parents, or once in a blue moon, Jiang Yanli. Otherwise, his philosophy was that’s what texting was for.

But he clearly wasn’t talking to his parents or his sister right now.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened some more when he realized Lan Xichen was on the other end of the line. 

Jiang Cheng laughed, softly, at whatever had just been said. He looked…happy.

“Right, he’s here,” Jiang Cheng was saying. “No, I think they just need some space. Well, I don’t know. I’m trying not to get involved. Yeah, sure, we can go tomorrow if you still want to. I’ll ask.”

He hung up and turned to Wei Wuxian. “Lan Xichen wants to know if you want to go to the movies tomorrow. We’ll do something action-y, no romance. And obviously no talk of his brother.”

“Uh.”

With a huff, Jiang Cheng fell back lengthwise across Wei Wuxian’s bed. “What is it? You look like I just drowned a bunch of kittens in front of you, or something.”  

“Bro. Don’t take this the wrong way. But I think you might like Lan Xichen.”

Jiang Cheng groaned and grabbed a pillow, pressing it over his face. “Shit. I know. It’s terrible.”

“Why terrible?”

“Because I think he likes me back.”

“A-Cheng!” Sudden excitement cut through the overwhelming numbness that had fallen over him, and Wei Wuxian jumped up with the force of it.

“It’s too late.”

“Bullshit it’s too late. Why?”

“I already told him I wasn’t gay. I mean…I’m not gay. I’m sure I’m not. But…I don’t know what I am.”

Wei Wuxian knelt back on the bed and tried to take the pillow off of Jiang Cheng’s face. Jiang Cheng wrestled it back.

“Is it so important to perfectly fit the definition of a word? Can’t you figure it out as you go along? It’s all a spectrum, anyway.”

“But I already told him.”

“So…untell him.”

“Hah,” Jiang Cheng said, dryly. The effect was rather muffled by the pillow.

“I’m serious. You’re allowed to have complicated feelings. You’re allowed to change your mind.”

“Pot, meet kettle.”

“Ok, valid, but we’re not talking about me right now. We’re talking about you.” He shoved his brother, playfully. “Go tell him you like him right now. Ah, my baby brother’s about to have a boyfriend! I can’t wait to tell shijie, this is so fucking exciting!”

Jiang Cheng rolled on his side, facing away. “This isn’t a romcom. I’m not going to go running to him like some sappy ballad is playing in the background.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not that person. I hate that person.”

“Jiang Cheng. I am never going to stop nagging you about this.”

“You’d better. I can still kick you out. Anyway, you’re just saying this because you want my dad to have someone else to be mad at besides you.”

“Shut up, I am not. Didi. He could be out there meeting someone right now. What if you miss your chance?”

As he said it, he could almost see Lan Zhan standing behind him, that day at the concert a year ago. If he had only paid the slightest bit of attention when he’d turned around that day. If only he had looked. How much more time might they have had together?

What if they’d missed their chance entirely?

Wei Wuxian had ruined everything…but still, he’d rather have this, right now, than to have never had Lan Zhan at all.

“You know I’m not great at having friends,” Jiang Cheng said, hesitantly, bringing Wei Wuxian back to the present. “I’m too…me. But we actually are friends. Good ones. He’s easy to talk to. What if…I don’t want to ruin that.”

“I think it’s a risk worth taking.” Wei Wuxian sighed and laid back, next to his brother. “But, what do I know? I’m only older, wiser…”

“Wiser, my ass. What are you doing here, then? Go running to Lan Wangji, apologize for being a neurotic idiot, and be disgustingly in love again.”

“It’s not the same thing. I…Lan Zhan deserves someone so much better than me.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “And you get to be the one to decide that? He wants you, he loves you, and you’re still sitting here constructing some perfect fantasy person for him that doesn’t exist. Get it through your thick skull, Wei Wuxian. It isn’t about deserve. And if you want to talk to me about risks…well, you have to take some risks, yourself.”    

*

Jiang Yanli sat on a park bench, tapping her fingers against the curved metal rail. She’d just made either the most massive mistake of her life, or opened a door that could lead anywhere. Either way, her mother was going to murder her. But she’d be finding out about it soon enough; Yanli certainly wasn’t going to hasten that knowledge along.

She’d kept the news inside of herself for one bright, sharp hour, and now she had to start telling people, but she didn’t know who first, or how.

And then, all at once, she did.

I just quit my job, she texted Jin Zixuan.

Her phone rang seven seconds later.

“That was quick.”

“You what?”

“I severed my ties. I jumped ship. I am now a free agent.”

“Wow. Why?”

“I didn’t like the person I was starting to turn in to. I never want to meet her. And I want to stay put for a while. Maybe I’ll move abroad again, one day, but if that happens I want to do it on my terms.”

“You’re amazing, Jiang Yanli.”

She snorted. “I think the word you’re looking for is reckless. I have no backup plan. I should have made a backup plan.”

“Backup plans are for squares.”

She snorted a laugh. “I’m also kind of homeless, since the company was paying for my hotel.”

“I’ll help you find a place. Today. Right now. Where are you?”

She smiled. Everything came so easy to him…it was almost enough to make her believe that things could come easy to her, too.

“Smart,” she answered, playfully. “We need to move quickly before my parents freeze my credit line. But why didn’t you just offer for me to stay with you?”

He scoffed. “I live in a house with six of my male cousins, it’s disgusting here. Anyway, you didn’t quit your job for me. I know you better than that.”

“You’re right.” She lifted her face up to the sun. He did know her. And how strange and exciting was that?

She told him the name of the park, and then she waited, putting a pause on her constant planning. Soon enough, she’d come up with a new one.  

*

Wei Wuxian managed to make it to class on Friday. He ate a meal, and it was even the kind that had some nutrients in it, not just sugar and carbs. He was managing.

And then, in late afternoon, Jiang Cheng answered a knock at the door and Wei Wuxian wasn’t managing at all.

“Right. Um. I’ll just—bye,” Jiang Cheng said, slipping awkwardly past Lan Zhan, who’d not said a word to him.

Wei Wuxian stood up and walked across the room, as close as he dared. Lan Zhan looked like he was carved of stone, but the kind of stone that had been eroding from rainstorms for centuries.

“What are you doing here?”

“I felt like a text would be somewhat insulting. Song Lan told me about taking you to the hospital the other night.”

Wei Wuxian bit his lip until he tasted blood.

“I’m not here to ask you to come back. If you can’t even share something like that with me…then, clearly, we have deeper problems than I’d understood us to have. But, are you well?”

Wei Wuxian shrugged. “I’m still standing, at least.”

Lan Zhan nodded, as if that was acceptable. “Very good. For the Battle of the Bands tomorrow, may I have your permission to borrow Suibian?”

Wei Wuxian frowned, confused. “Lan Zhan, it’s your guitar.”

“It’s yours. I would not play it without your consent.”

“Oh. Well. Of course, then, if it’s important to you.”

He wanted to reach out, fall into Lan Zhan’s arms. Erase all of his mistakes.

But it was a distance too big to be bridged.

“I hope that you will come,” Lan Zhan said, coldly polite. And then he turned and left, closing the door with a prim click. And Wei Wuxian buried himself under the covers and cried.

*

Backstage was abuzz with preparations for the Battle of the Bands. Vocal warmups clashed with stagehands calling out instructions. Someone was sewing last-minute repairs to costumes. Yu Yinzhu weaved through the room, making sure that each band knew their proper number and assignment slot. Nie Mingjue barked at everyone who crossed his path.

Lan Wangji felt cold.

He’d felt cold from the moment he let Wei Ying go. For days, now, he’d been doing everything on autopilot: wake up, eat food without tasting it, sit through class, practice, go back to sleep. But he wasn’t sure at all how he’d be able to play with his fingers so numb.

“All set,” Xiao Xingchen said, warmly, swiping some kind of powder across Lan Wangji’s forehead. “What do y’all think?”

“I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to make Lan Wangji more gorgeous,” Qin Su answered, teasingly. “But yeah, it’s good. Do me next.”

Xiao Xingchen switched brushes and opened a complicated-looking palette of colors. Lan Wangji ceded his seat to Qin Su.

The other band members watched him, concerned, as he took out Suibian and soundlessly practiced fingering arrangements for the umpteenth time. But nobody said anything.

He was distracted from these exercises by Jin Zixuan greeting them all cheerfully, leading Jiang Yanli by the hand. Lan Wangji nodded to her; he wasn’t sure how much she knew, yet, about the situation.

Song Lan and Lan Xichen followed close behind them.

The second Song Lan saw Xiao Xingchen he apparently forgot the very existence of Lan Wangji, or anyone else for that matter. One could almost picture cartoon hearts exploding in a halo around his head.

Lan Wangji looked incredulously at Jin Zixuan. Jin Zixuan shrugged and mouthed I told you.

Lan Wangji had never known Song Lan to express the slightest bit of romantic interest in anyone…but perhaps this was just like he had been, with Wei Ying.

Wei Ying, who had left him.

Oh, look, now he was upset again. He recognized it as if through a veil. Pushing the feelings down, Lan Wangji started practicing his fingering again.

“Ok, lady, you are all done,” Xiao Xingchen declared. “Who’s next?” As he looked around for more clients, his gaze landed on Song Lan. “Oh, are you in any of the bands?”

“N—no?”

Xiao Xingchen pouted. “Damn. Well, when I’m done with the performers, you want me to do your makeup?”

“Wh—me?”

“Totally. I really want to try metallics on you; something edgy.”

Song Lan made a sound like a deflating balloon.

“Of course, it won’t really go with that outfit,” Xiao Xingchen mused. “But, oh well. Your face is a great canvas.”

“My face…is a canvas?”  

“Yeah, it’s like—” Xiao Xingchen reached up and actually grabbed Song Lan’s face, turning it like he was examining a piece of art “—angles. Dang. Please, let me practice on you? I won’t even charge.”

Song Lan, who looked like he would have burned down a building had Xiao Xingchen asked him to, nodded weakly.

The others watched this play out with varying levels of amusement. Eventually, Lan Xichen shook his head in fond exasperation and turned his attention back to Lan Wangji. He knelt to get closer to his level.

“So, did you talk to him?”

“I asked him to let me borrow his guitar.”

Lan Xichen sighed. “Did you talk to him, though?”

It’s too much. It’s too much. The words still echoed through Lan Wangji’s head. If loving him caused Wei Wuxian to hurt that badly, then Lan Wangji could not continue to press that love.  

“I will talk to him after the show. He…if he comes.”

“Oh, he’ll be here,” Jiang Yanli said, her voice edged. So she knew, then. “A-Cheng’s getting him here, even if he has to tie him up and drag him.”  

“Fuck’s sake,” Nie Mingjue boomed, coming upon them. “Is the whole circus here? Artists only, the rest of you get out of my backstage.”

“Oh, lighten up,” Lan Xichen told him.

“I didn’t get all up in your space when you were trying to take your silly pictures.”

“Because you were on a different continent.”

“Enough of your snark, Lan Huan. Get out of my backstage, and take all these interlopers with you.”

And so Lan Wangji’s cheering committee was ejected without ceremony, and Lan Wangji was left with his thoughts.

*

They were running late, as usual, because Wei Wuxian couldn’t figure out what to wear.

He didn’t know why it mattered. If he looked perfect, would Lan Zhan suddenly forgive everything else and take him back? Or was it instead some attempted point of pride? Look how well I’m doing on my own. Look how not-fallen-apart I am.

Either way, everything he’d brought to the dorm in his suitcase seemed insufficient.

Jiang Cheng, tired of nagging, eventually shoved a black-and-red striped shirt into his hands and said “Get dressed right fucking now or I swear we’re going down there with you half naked.”

They’d missed all the other bands: Ctrl S was last on the setlist, and Wei Wuxian didn’t have the patience to sit through everyone else. So, they were very late when they finally arrived. The courtyard was stuffed full of students, and they missed half of the band’s first song looking for their group. Finally, Jiang Cheng spotted Song Lan above the crowd, and they pushed their way through.

The first song Ctrl S played had been the club song that Nie Mingjue wrote for them, the one they had filmed the music video for. The second they’d settled on was a cover Wei Wuxian recognized as something Lan Zhan had once played for him. Lan Zhan’s voice was strong. He was playing as well—or better—as he ever had.

It made Wei Wuxian’s heart swell. That was his boy, up there. Only, not anymore. But he had been. And look how good he was.

Cheers and applause swelled as the second song came to an end. The band briefly paused, readying for their finale.

Finally, Lan Zhan came back to the mic, Suibian slung over his chest. “Wei Ying. I don’t know the right words to make things better for you. But I hope that you are out there, listening. And in case you can’t tell, this is a grand romantic gesture.”

He nodded to Qin Su, who had switched out her bass for a flute. The other members of the band receded, and together Lan Zhan and Qin Su began the song.

It was not at all like Wei Wuxian would have expected.

Listen to the sound of a flute, alone in sorrow.

It was melancholy, but peaceful, soft…beautiful. Wei Wuxian couldn’t have said he understood it, necessarily. But he felt it. Right in the center of his chest.

He started to cry, quietly, covered by the sound of the music.

His sister noticed, hugged him from the side. She held on to him and let him shake as the song ripped holes in him.

The bright moon is still the same, so there is no need for sadness.

Wei Wuxian had always walked away from things the moment they got hard. Life was too short, there was no point in suffering through things that were never, in the end, worth it.

But walking away from Lan Zhan was probably the stupidest decision of his life.

There was a beat of silence when the song ended. And then the whole crowd broke into cheers again.

Lan Zhan shifted Suibian so that it hung across his back, and jumped straight down from the stage, bypassing the stairs. He must have finally spotted Wei Wuxian from the stage; he headed straight for him. He took Wei Wuxian’s hand and started pulling him through the crowd, which parted for them as they passed. Wei Wuxian did not pull away.

“They’re going to announce the winner soon,” he said, weakly, the only protest he was able to make.

“Mn. Don’t care.”

They ended up in an empty square behind the Arts building. Lan Zhan sat them down on a short wall; he would not let go of Wei Wuxian’s hand. Wei Wuxian used his free and to pull up the hem of his shirt and wipe his eyes. Shameless. Well, he didn’t care.

“Did you like the song?”

“It was beautiful. I can’t believe you. Why are you the one doing the apologizing when I was the one who fucked up?”

Lan Zhan shrugged. “That wasn’t intended to be an apology. I just meant it as a way to show you that I love you, however you may feel in return.” He stroked the back of Wei Wuxian’s hand with his thumb. “And you did not fuck up.”

“I left. I should have talked to you, tried better to explain…but I couldn’t manage it.”

“I am not blameless. I did not see how deeply you were hurting. I did not fight for you. But I will. I promise, from now and for forever, I will fight for you.”

Wei Wuxian huddled close to him.

From far away, the crowd cheered again. “I think your band just won,” Wei Wuxian said.

“That’s nice,” Lan Zhan said, blandly. “Wei Ying…I know it’s difficult. But will you try to explain things to me? What did I do to make you leave?”

“You didn’t do anything. I swear. I don’t want to be all ‘It’s not you, it’s me’…but it pretty much was me. I started thinking about all the ways I wasn’t good enough for you, about how you deserved someone much better. And I guess I just got in my own head and couldn’t find the way out.”