Archive of Our Own

Experience dictates that nine out of ten of Jin Ling’s self-proclaimed amazing ideas stand between not that bad and awfully bad. As such, Sizhui would like to say he was surprised by what comes out of his best friend’s mouth while they’re watching the new season of Sing! China. Unfortunately, he was not.

“Hey, Sizhui. Remember last week when you said you missed going out on real dates and not just kissing random people at parties?” Jin Ling asks between mouthfuls of lotus pops, as soon as the advertisement starts playing. Jin Ling is always eating lotus pops, which are his and his uncle’s favorite snacks. Genetics of palate. Sizhui was of the opinion that popping perfectly good lotus seeds was akin to sacrilege, but he has since gotten used to it. It wasn’t like he had a choice.

And yes, he remembered that, even if it was said under the effect of one (and only one) cup of rice wine stolen from his baba’s cupboard, which was enough to make his body forget the chemistry behind feeling ashamed. Sizhui doesn’t kiss random people at parties—that is Jingyi’s job. “Uh, yes. But I wasn’t being serious! I was drunk, and you know I say stupid things when I’m drunk.”

Sizhui doesn’t even miss dates. Not as a concept, as the general idea of grabbing a bite with someone, talking about the weather or college, and then kissing. He misses going out on dates with one actual, single specific person. A person with whom Sizhui had never gone on a date. Nonetheless, he imagined it so much it was close to becoming a real deal. Which, he admits, is pretty depressing.

“You get just like your uncle, so believe me, I do know that.” Sizhui would like to protest that this is a lie. Uncle Xichen doesn’t say stupid things while drunk. Instead, he blabbers about all matters of things with his voice turned to maximum volume and a smile too bright it can cause temporary blindness. Jin Ling, however, already knows all that. He knew Lan Xichen well enough when he was only his shushu’s friend, and knows him even better since he became his jiujiu’s boyfriend.

Jin Ling’s family life is a mess.

“Anyway, back to the topic. I was kinda hoping you were serious, despite the alcohol, because I set up a blind date for you with a very nice person. If you don’t like the idea I’ll call them and cancel, but I would hate to disappoint them like that.” Jin Ling’s stare is fixed on the television as if he had discovered a deep interest in paddled toys designed for toddlers; the ones with small, dangling charms. Sizhui, as a person who has to avoid the toddler’s aisle afraid of falling into temptation, for he genuinely believes them to be criminally cute, knows Jin Ling doesn’t share the feeling at all. Which means he doesn’t want to look Sizhui in the eye. “Next week, at that new cat café, three blocks from here. It received a lot of good reviews on Dianping.”

“It did?” Sizhui asks, only because he’s looking forward to visiting the cat café—with his friends, not with a person he didn’t know. This brings him to the second point. “But I’m not going out on a date with a person I don’t know. Sorry, I think you’ll have to disappoint them.”

He wouldn’t go out on a date with a person he knew — unless it was that specific person mentioned above —, much less with a stranger. Jin Ling should’ve known that Sizhui is too shy for something like this.

Of course, he is aware that the point of a blind date is exactly setting up people whose shyness prevented them from asking someone out themselves, but hey. He is not there yet.

The hardest part, of course, would be making Jin Ling accept that. “Come on, Sizhui. I swear you’ll like them! This person is my friend, and you know all my friends are good people because it takes a lot of backbone to stand me at first. And the two of you would make a nice couple.” If Fairy was there, Jin Ling would be petting her to keep his hands busy, but alas, she was sleeping soundly on his bed. This means Jin Ling has no other choice than to pick on the upholstery stitches until a thread comes loose. Uh oh, Sizhui thinks. His jiujiu isn’t going to like this. “Of course, it’s not like I can tie you up and drag you there against your will, but I think you should give it a chance.”

Sizhui instantly makes a dive for the lotus pops and stuffs his mouth full so he can’t say anything about the tie you up part.

You see, there’s a tiny detail they’re not talking about: it is considered an asshole move to try and set your friend on a blind date when the guy your friend likes is, that’s right, yourself.

Sizhui doesn’t get the chance to blame Jin Ling or throw one of the sofa cushions at him; Jin Ling doesn’t know—he’s terribly oblivious, if so Jingyi says. Once again, Sizhui can’t blame him. He tries his best to pretend nothing is going on, after all.

There’s nothing he fears more than making a mistake that causes him to lose Jin Ling’s friendship.

If not letting emotion show on one’s face is a skill, Sizhui’s fuqin is the teacher, and no one is beating him in this class. Because, frankly, if the fact that Jin Ling has just found him a date isn’t enough proof that his affections aren’t returned, then nothing else could be. Jingyi would already be bawling inside the bathroom. Sizhui breathes in, breathes out, keeps his smile in place.

“It’s not like I don’t want to go at all,” he clarifies, even though it is exactly like he doesn’t want to go. At all. “It just…seems weird. I’ve never been on a blind date before. What should I talk about with someone I’ve never seen beforehand? What if I hate them?”

Jin Ling scoffs, turning his body towards Sizhui and forgetting the television for a moment. He has beautiful eyes, light brown, as his father had. It’s not like Sizhui forgets it—but he can’t help being surprised every time he manages to get a good look at them. “First, I don’t think you could hate anyone unless they caused you harm. Even then I have my doubts. Second, I already told you, this person is my friend. A close friend. I can vouch for them. If they do something bad, you can, I don’t know, push me inside the pool with my clothes on or whatever else you can think for a punishment.”

Only if you wear a white shirt, Sizhui wants to say. He has enough propriety to keep his mouth shut, take a deep breath, and put on his best fine expression.

“Well, I do want to see that cat café.” Also, there was the small possibility of getting Jin Ling out of his mind for an hour. Which would be nice. Which would be a thing he sorely needs. “But if things start to look bad like they’ll end badly, I’ll leave right away. And you’ll fix things with this person yourself.”

“It’s a deal. I’ll call them and tell them everything is settled—because I wanted to talk with you before confirming things. because I am a nice friend.”  

“I have never thought otherwise,” Sizhui says, and Jin Ling beams at him, the smile he saw on his face maybe six or seven times since the beginning of their friendship. It already makes this crazy date worth it.

Who knows, maybe he’ll fall in love with Jin Ling’s friend and live a torrid romance, forgetting his previous infatuation so completely he’ll laugh about it someday. There is always hope.

It just doesn’t seem likely.

Sizhui arrives at the cat café seven minutes after the scheduled time, or, as Jingyi is prone to say, fashionably late. Truth is, he spent more time choosing what to dress than necessary, especially with his baba throwing Sizhui’s whole wardrobe over the bed to assemble the perfect outfit.

Rule number fifty-seven: never let your father know you’re going out on a date when your father is local troublemaker Wei Wuxian.  

In the end, he settles for a light wash denim jacket over a white and yellow striped tee, and his cream linen trousers with tiny bees embroidered by the ankles—one of jin ling’s birthday gifts. His baba said he looked cute to death, whatever that means. Sizhui can only hope this mysterious person isn’t a bee hater in disguise. He won’t know what to do.

According to Jin Ling’s instructions, received three minutes ago, his date was sitting on a booth facing the window, just to the right of a floor-to-ceiling cat tree. Sizhui leaves his hiding place, behind a tall statue on the storefront across the street, and yes, there’s a person. A guy, petting a calico cat that tries to climb his shoulder like he knows exactly what he is doing.

That is what it takes for Sizhui to convince himself he isn’t walking into the clutches of a serial killer. And yes, he knows this person is Jin Ling’s friend and he doesn’t have anything to fear at all, but still, blind dates are weird. Baba always says there’s no use in trying to suppress one’s own emotions, which is the reason, Sizhui ponders, he disappeared from the face of the Earth for ten years before making his grand comeback, but that’s another story altogether.

For what is worth, Sizhu won't bail out now, when he has already come this far. So, with a deep breath and his best smile, he steps inside.

The café is even cozier than what it looks from the outside, with walls full of shelves, resting hollows, and hammocks for the cats to climb and run around. A cute ball of white full brushes around Sizhui’s legs as soon as he takes a few steps in, nuzzling against his sneakers before walking away. The place is relatively close to the university Jin Ling, Jingyi, and Sizhui himself attend, which means it would make a great place for them to study in the late afternoon, although he can already imagine how Jin Ling will complain that dogs are better than cats nine times out of ten.

Sizhui shakes his head. He’s not here to think about Jin Ling.

“Uh, hello.” He walks towards the table, and to the person that seems absorbed in the car resting on his lap. “Are you… Jin Ling’s friend? For the, well, the blind date thing?”

He really should’ve made Jin Ling tell him the guy's name, because that might’ve been his worst introduction ever.

Thankfully, the mystery boy doesn’t look fazed by that at all. He smiles — a nice smile, Sizhui thinks; honest — and stands up. “Yes! I’m Ouyang Zizhen. I’m sorry, I almost begged jin ling to tell me your name, but he just wouldn’t relent on the whole blind date thing, so…”

“I’m Lan Sizhui.” They both sit down, facing each other. Sizhui puts his hands on the table, then on his thighs, then back at the table. He would describe himself as being just a tad bit nervous, for all that he said about missing the thrill of a real date. “Have you already ordered something?”

Zizhen reaches for the menu and slides it towards Sizhui. “Nope, I was waiting for you. I thought about ordering two slices of strawberry cheesecake — my sister ate here last week and said it tastes amazing — so you didn’t have to wait much, but then I thought it would be preposterous of me to order for you, even though Jin Ling said you love strawberries.”

Oh, he does. To be frank, he is becoming more and more surprised by how Jin Ling orchestrated this whole dating thing to be actually nice. It pains him, just the smallest bit.

“It’s not preposterous at all! I think you should order for me, I know close to nothing about coffee. Everyone in my family is a tea supremacist; minus Baba, who chugs black coffee like it's water.” If anything, his fuqin would sport an expression of mild displeasure — not much different than his everyday blank expression — if he knew Sizhui was having a date at a coffee shop. Or if he knew Sizhui was having a date, period. Screw that about letting your children grow wings—Lan Wangji didn't want to think about that before Sizhui completed his bachelor's degree.

Zizhen’s chuckle was too carefree for what was considered well mannered outside one's home, so much that Sizhui could feel a few wary glances being thrown at them. Luckily, Sizhui had grown up with Jingyi, and he had become a professional in ignoring the reactions of nearby people. “Well, then, let me see. We can get the two slices of strawberry cheesecake, and for drinks… How about iced mocha? You like chocolate?”

“Not that much.”

“An iced latte, then.”

Sizhui only vaguely knows what Zizhen is talking about because for the past three months Jin Ling has taken to ordering a new variation of iced latte whenever they take a trip to the Starbucks store near his apartment complex. Sizhui always orders a venti-sized herbal tea, because his bofu says coffee is for the weak of spirit.

(which is funny, considering he is now dating jiang cheng, and the whole chugging down black coffee like water runs in the jiang family)

A waiter comes as soon as Zizhen raises an arm, and Sizhui uses the opportunity to look around the café, marveling at the soft tones that make up the decoration, the tall windows that allow them to look at the street, where a multitude of people run around, going on with their menial tasks and worries that seem like the end of the world. Sizhui always liked to stare out of the windows, to make up small tales about the people that pass by, about the places they’re trying to reach.

Jingyi once said that if Sizhui didn’t have such an irrefutable talent for music, he should try creative writing.

Thing is, he feels the farthest of creative right now, with a nice guy in front of him and the prospect of having to talk about something other than the weather. Having a date is only good when you are not in love with someone else.

Maybe he should’ve added that part when he told Jin Ling he missed it. Then he wouldn’t have dragged innocent Ouyang Zizhen into his mess.

Sizhui made his bed; there wasn’t anything else for him to do besides lying on it.

“Uh…” he starts, thankful for the cat that has crawled onto his lap, allowing Sizhui to scratch its head to calm his mind. “Are you from around here? Jin Ling said you’re a close friend of his.”

So much for not talking about Jin Ling, but it’s better than sitting in awkward silence until their orders arrive.

“Yeah, his jiujiu used to live in the same building I live with my dad, so we would spend the afternoon together at the playground when he was visiting.” Zizhen smiles and Sizhui catches himself mirroring the gesture. He has seen enough pictures of Jin Çing to know he made the cutest child ever, especially when Jiang Cheng dressed him in overalls or superhero costumes. “It was hard sometimes, you know. He cried like hell for the smallest reasons, and there were times when he would scream so high that his jiujiu would come down running, and he lived on the twelfth floor. But he’s better now. More amenable.”

An understatement, Sizhui thinks. Even Jin Ling admits his condition as an absolute terror during his childhood. Still, Sizhui can’t help feeling a bitter taste on the back of his tongue—the usual reflex to defend Jin Ling when someone talks shit about him, quickly suppressed when he remembers Zizhen is Jin Ling’s friend and means no harm. Like Jingyi when he teases Jin Ling all day long, no matter how many pillows get thrown on his face.

The cat meows on his lap, and Sizhui is quick to give it his attention anew. In his mind, the cat doesn’t like bad-mouthing Jin Ling either.

He can feel Zizhen looking at him, but he doesn’t raise his head, artificially focused on petting the cat. Sizhui has no idea of what to say next, which sucks because Zizhen looks nice and just the kind of person to take his mind off Jin Ling for a while. Sizhui never liked using people like that; he was raised in a house where no lying was an absolute rule, not just an ideal. And it’s not like he has come to ask Zizhen’s hand in marriage or something; yet it still feels like lying, in a way.

It’s mildly uncomfortable.

The waiter, of course, doesn’t know that. He smiles as he brings the tray with their order, looking at Zizhen and then at Sizhui like he’s thinking about how cute a couple they make. As he leaves, both men stare at each other, and with two small, shy smiles, they start eating. At least, Sizhui thinks, he isn’t the only one out of his depth here.

It’s just— it used to be his depth. He was good at this. He liked going on dates and meeting people and kissing people!

And then he had to fall in love, of all things.

He can picture Jingyi laughing his ass off about how useless he had become. And he wouldn’t be wrong.

As Sizhui gives his drink a first, tentative sip, he gives Zizhen a thumbs up. The drink is surprisingly tasty, though he knows coffee isn’t supposed to be that sweet, or else his dad would already be in a hospital with too high blood sugar. The cake, on the other hand, is divine. He might need to take a few slices home for his parents.

“You study music, don’t you?” Zizhen has a speck of cake on the corner of his mouth. Sizhui blushes before pointing at it, and Zizhen’s fumbling with the handkerchief rips a laugh out of him. Yeah, he can do this. “What instrument do you play?”

If Jin Ling thinks he isn’t going to get a scolding when this ends, he’s wrong. How come Zizhen has privileged information and Sizhui doesn’t? “Mostly the guqin, and also the flute. I can fiddle around with a violin too, but nothing special.”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he says that. Sizhui loves talking about music, and it shows all over him. “It’s a family tradition of sorts. Everyone back home plays at least one instrument.” Even Baba, who wasn’t born a Lan but makes a terrific flute duet with his uncle, while Sizhui and his father strum the guqin in the background. “Our bonding times, as my bofu says, usually include everyone playing some piece together at the end.”

Zizhen makes a cute picture, looking impressed with his cheeks puffed up with cake. “Bonding time with my father consists of both of us fishing, which isn’t nearly as fun as having a homemade concert.”

“Who knows? Fishing sounds fun too.” There was a time when Jin Ling and his uncle would go out every weekend to fish on a nearby lake, and he always came back telling them about all the fish he caught and how fun it was and how Jiang Cheng praised him—in that characteristic way of his to make it sound unlike praise at all. “But I suppose it isn’t something you can study at college.”

“I do oceanography, which is as close as it gets.”

And so they keep on, back and forth, trying to find a little more about each other with every question. Zizhen has an aunt who lives abroad, in Australia, and he usually visits her in the winter to escape the cold. Sizhui had weekly appointments with a speech therapist until he was six and could speak properly. Zizhen was Jin Ling’s only friend until their thirteen years, when Jin Ling met Sizhui at the first Jiang-Lan extended family reunion, which was Wei Wuxian’s excuse to lump all his relatives together in a dining room and convince them to taste his new creation in the form of a spicy dish monstrosity. For what it's worth, Sizhui is still unable to eat anything that has even the smell of chili peppers on it, no matter how obstinate Wei Wuxian can be into introducing him to the wonders of spice—would Europe have invaded half the world for it if it wasn’t the most scrumptious thing, Sizhui?

It’s… nice. Zizhen is a nice guy, he smiles a lot, which Sizhui likes, and he has some good jokes up his sleeve, along with fun family anecdotes. Their ability to progress past small talk fills Sizhui with relief—he’s not as rusty as he’d imagined. But throughout all their time together, Sizhui has the growing impression that something is missing from the scene, that there is something just marginally wrong, pressing against the back of his mind, not quite ready to make itself visible.

They leave after splitting the bill, the distance between them enough that anyone could see that there was nothing special going to happen there. Sizhui can’t straighten his mess of a mind enough to discern if he’s disappointed by it, but if anything, he’s brave enough to ask.

Not that it’s easy, as he and Zizhen stop by the gate of a nearby park. “You know, I really liked spending time with you. I hadn’t gone on a date in a while, so sorry if I was a bit, uh—”

“No worries,” Zizhen interrupts, and Sizhui would be peeved if only Zizhen didn’t have the smallest of smiles on his face. He looked at the ground before breathing in and facing Sizhui. “But, just to be clear, you mean spending time and just that, right? No… romantic potential.”

“Well, I— Why? Did I say something wrong?” Oh, had he fucked up that much without even noticing?

Sizhui is not used to fucking things up at all. He is a very good boy. An excellent one, if he might say so himself.

“No! Nothing wrong, per se, but— It’s just that you talked more about Jin Ling than anything else.” Fuck, Sizhui thinks, his face instantly flushing red. He wants to bury his head on the ground and never leave his home ever again. Zizhen must hate him, and rightfully so. “In fact, if I might say, I think he was the one you would’ve like to go on a date with. Which only tells me that you’re both huge fools since he was the one who set this date and you agreed to it.”

He doesn’t even have the face to deny it. What’s the point, when he spent the whole date talking about another guy? Truly, he was lucky Zizhen didn’t ditch him sooner. If Sizhui was in his place, he totally would have. “I’m so sorry. I know it must sound terrible now, but really, I’m sorry. you probably think I’m some kind of a jerk, but I just don’t know how to say no to Jin Ling most of the time, and then— I really shouldn’t have—”

“Whoa, okay there. Calm down.” Two hands find their way to Sizhui’s arms, shaking him with a minimal amount of strength, just enough to get his attention. “It wasn’t that bad. I liked spending time with you too, and the cake was delicious. No harm done, okay?”

“I’m really sorry, though.”

“I know you are.” Zizhen gives Sizhui’s shoulder a light pat before ending their contact. Sizhui knows he looks ridiculous, standing there and looking at the grass between their feet because he can’t find the courage to raise his eyes to Zizhen. “So, from what I can see I guess you never told him about your feelings, did you?”

Sizhui sighs, and at last, he looks up. As embarrassing as it is to say it, if there is one thing he’s good at talking about, besides music, it’s Jin Ling. As Zizhen endured for the past hour. “No. What’s the point? He set me on a blind date with you, I don’t think there’s the smallest chance he likes me back.”

To be honest, it’s not like he can say much of anything, going out on said blind date himself, but hey. He’s trying to move on, find his true love, or whatever.

Zizhen purses his lips, a finger tapping his chin as he stares at the sky like he’s reading the answer to Sizhui’s problems. “I’m not so sure about that. The way he talked about you to me… He said more positive adjectives than I’ve ever seen him using to anyone, not counting Fairy. At first, I thought it was because he was trying really hard to convince me, even though there was no need to exaggerate so much. Not that he was exaggerating! You’re every bit the perfect person he said you were.”

Wait, perfect? Oh, fuck. Sizhui is red to the tips of his ears, and he can’t say anything in his defense because he’ll just stutter uncontrollably and collapse. And he absolutely does not want that to happen in the middle of a bustling city park at six in the afternoon.

It’s the kind of thing a person doesn’t need in their day.

Such a pity, then, that Zizhen proves to be relentless. “Yeah, I can see it now. I already knew he had a crush on someone because sometimes when we study together he gets that dreamy look on his face and I ask him what are you thinking about? and he just shouts nothing or fuck off and buries his face on Fairy’s fur.” Sizhui can picture the exact scene. It makes his heart do a funny flip inside his ribcage. “The reason he troubled himself arranging a blind date for the man he likes is beyond me, but the Jin Ling I know does stupid things when he’s under stress. You should ask him.”

Ha ha ha, Sizhui thinks. No way. “That’s not going to happen, sorry.”

“My suffering for the past hour has to be worth something, Lan Sizhui.”

“I— Suffering! I thought it wasn’t that bad!”

Zizhen laughs and Sizhui laughs too, and they forget about the topic for another fifteen minutes, after which Zizhen finally accepts Sizhui’s offer to pay his ride home as an apology for their failed date.

“This, and you’re asking Jin Ling on a date.” Zizhen needled before opening the cab's door.

“I'll think about it, okay?” It’s the best Sizhui can do. Lying is forbidden, but he is not lying. He really is going to think about asking Jin Ling out.

It’s just that he already knows he’ll settle for the negative. It’s best to let things stay as they are, especially when faced with the prospect of fucking everything up in some terrible, permanent way.

Lan Sizhui does not fuck things up, which means, in some cases, he lets them stay as they are, even though it hurts him to.

Lan Jingyi, however, is a whole other story.

“What do you mean, it was awful?” he asks, spinning around on his gaming chair. The fact that Jingyi claims not to have enough money to send his clothes to the laundry just across his building, but still spends an absurd amount on superfluous things like gaming chairs and overly colorful sneakers never ceases to amaze him. “Didn’t Jin Ling swear on his life that the guy was a nice one?”

Instead of going home and having his baba ask a million questions about the (failed) date, Sizhui made the quick trek to the small apartment Jingyi lived in since he started college and could not afford to spend an hour squished inside the public transport to arrive at his early classes. The thing with having an internal clock that wakes you up punctually at five in the morning all your life is that, when you need to wake up even earlier, you’re fucked.

And the way Sizhui crossed the messy living room and flung himself face down on Jingyi’s bed without as much as a hello! didn’t help his situation much.

“He was great! Seriously, I liked him. As a potential friend.” All this is said with his face buried on Jingyi’s pillow, which means there’s a fifty-fifty percent chance Jingyi didn’t understand shit. Oh, Sizhui doesn’t care right now. “But after we were done, I asked him if it was nice, and he was like Oh yes! You talked about Jin Ling all the time though and I didn’t even notice it, Jingyi! Honestly, I hate myself.”

The mattress dips by his right side, but Sizhui doesn’t raise his head to acknowledge Jingyi. Most of the time, their places are switched—Jingyi is the one crying his heart out about a trivial matter and Sizhui is by his side, patting his back, saying there, there; you’ll get this.

He is the composed one, the level-headed one, the dependable one. Not the one that doesn’t know how to deal with an unrequited crush.

“Didn’t you think that it would be a bad idea to go out on a date when you like another person?” Aren’t you the smart one in this family?

Sizhui would like very much for everyone to know that yes, he is! Or was, considering the recent developments. “I did! But I... I wanted to get Jin Ling off my mind for a while, and I thought that maybe I could like this guy, and maybe I could forget about— this. About Jin Ling. Not totally, of course. Just forget that I’m in love with him.” He had never felt like this. Sure, Sizhui had crushes before, and fleeting infatuations. He’s a good-looking young man, and Jingyi is always introducing him to new people, able as he is to strike a friendship with any living creature in twenty-five minutes tops. “Guess that didn’t happen.”

Does this mean he will have to keep suffering? Keep watching by the corner of his eyes as Jin Ling laughs after hearing a bad joke, as his chest fills with pride whenever Fairy learns a new trick, as he bites the corner of his tongue when he has to read an essay fifty pages long for his next midterm exam? Does this mean he is fated to burn in silence, waiting for the moment when these feelings will finally get tired of him and his inability to do something, to take the thrice-damned leap of faith?

“Sizhui,” Jingyi calls, with such a calm and loving tone that Sizhui is tempted to raise his head and see if the person beside him really is Jingyi or if someone kidnapped him and took his place. “I know you hate confrontations, but right now it’s the part where you tell Jin Ling how you’re feeling. Or at least the part where you ask him out so you can, uh, investigate whether he feels the same before confessing.”

Why does everyone have to recommend the only course of action Sizhui is hellbent on not taking?

Okay, maybe not hellbent. But he doesn’t want it. Why can’t Jin Ling ask him out instead? Why isn’t Jin Ling being pushed into going to blind dates he does not—

Hold on a second.

“What if we have a blind date?” Sizhui sits ramrod straight in less than a second, his previous whining mood forgotten with the turn of a switch. “You talk to him and say there’s this friend of yours, but what he doesn't know is that the friend is me. And if it goes wrong we just tell him it’s some kind of prank, that you wanted to mess with him a bit and strung me along because I'm gullible and I owe you one.”

A poorly elaborated and potentially heartbreaking prank, as the best of them are.

“Uh, I don’t think that is the best course of action. How about being straightforward and not using questionable artifices that may backfire tremendously?” Ha, Sizhui thinks. As if Jingyi is now the responsible one! It’s easy being straightforward when you’re not scared of losing a ten-year-old friendship or remembering the pathetic moment of your downfall for the rest of your life. Easy, when you’re Lan Jingyi, and somehow everyone wants to kiss you regardless of the fact that your mouth spews a barrage of the most absurd things known to mankind. “Like, you know, a normal person.”

“No, it’s perfect!” And it is. Sizhui can see it: the perfect mix between sticking his neck out and keeping himself close to the exit door. He’s almost thrumming with excitement at the prospect of it. He does not consider, for a second, the possibility that he’ll start crying in the middle of a crowded restaurant if he finds himself forced to pull the prank card.

It’s just a guarantee, he says to himself. Just in case, you know, if things turn downhill.

“Okay, listen. I’ll think about some nice place, and then we’ll plan what you’re going to say, and then tomorrow morning you talk to him after class.” Sizhui already has his phone in hand, scrolling past countless reviews of restaurants not so far from their respective homes. I should ask Baba, he thinks, because Jin Ling, like everyone with Jiang's blood, is crazy about spices. The things we do for love and all that jazz. “It’s all gonna work out, trust me.”

Jingyi doesn’t seem the least inclined to. “I think this is an awful idea, just so you know. But I’ll do it, don’t worry,” he concedes before Sizhui has the opportunity to pull his puppy eyes at him. “But what if he doesn’t want to go?”

“Oh, I know you’ll convince him, Jingyi. You can be persuasive when you want to.”

“I kind of don’t want to, though— Fine, fine! I’ll do it!” Jingyi doesn’t dodge fast enough to escape from the pillow thrown against his face. Deserved, sizhui thinks. “Only because it’s you.”

Sizhui flops back on the mattress, and they both turn to watch each other until laughter spills from their lips. “It’s a bad idea,” jingyi says, but he’s smiling.

“I know.” Sizhui does know. And yet he can’t think of anything better, so he has to make do with what he has. “Come on, let’s rehearse. Pretend I’m Jin Ling and you’re going to set me up on a blind date with your amazing friend.”

“My amazing friend, who is not Lan Sizhui.”

“Absolutely not.”

It’s a bad idea alright, but Sizhui has a feeling that it’ll work, somehow.

He fiercely hopes it will.

In the end, Sizhui doesn’t enlist Wei Wuxian’s help—it’s too big of a risk, for his baba is too smart to fall for the words of a lovestruck son, especially one forbidden from lying. But he gets a recommendation of a nice restaurant close to his home with one of his classmates, and Jingyi, possessed by the forces of goodness, manages to convince Jin Ling to accept the date without a problem, and also manages not to fuck up and reveal Sizhui’s plans.

This is the chain of events that leads to Sizhui sitting alone at the table of a moderately fancy restaurant specialized in Hunan cuisine. There’s a cold wind blowing outside, a sign of the arriving autumn, so Shizui has donned his best overcoat, light blue over a black shirt and fitted trousers.

A bit overdressed, maybe. He pondered on dressing casual — again, in case he had to pull the prank card — but he couldn’t bring himself not to look his best for Jin Ling.

After all, it might be their first date, but it also might be their last.

He watches the entrance door, foot tapping against the floor, as one after another couple gets in, walking shoulder to shoulder, smiles on their faces painted faint red from the cold. Sizhui has counted four couples, two whole families, and a loud group of six friends when he catches the sway of a high ponytail, and a white jacket embroidered with golden thread that he could recognize from three miles away.

Although his first reaction is to shake his arms and call jin ling! here! Sizhui stays put, his eyes following Jin Ling as his friend examines the tables in search of this mysterious person Jingyi told him about. He walks slowly between the tables, glancing at those in which sit unaccompanied people; every step brings him closer, and soon Sizhui can see the red tip of his nose, the wild strands of hair that refuse to stay tucked in, the glint of a necklace that carries his parent’s wedding bands.

And then Jin Ling stops in front of his table, and Sizhui wants to bolt out of the window and call Jingyi about how he was right, how this was a bad idea, not because he didn’t tell Lin Jing his feelings right away, but because he has to tell him now, and he has no clue on how to do it without suffering a heart attack.

“Sizhui! What are you doing here?” Jin Ling asks him straight away, because he had never learned the skill of starting conversations politely before asking the important questions.

Another thing in which they complement each other, Sizhui thinks, as he finds asking the important questions absurdly hard. “I’m waiting for my date.”

“Ah. That’s— that's good.” He thinks he sees Jin Ling’s expression falling for half a second, but surely, it must have been his imagination, right? He hopes not. “Wait, did Jingyi set you up on a date too? Because last week he arranged a blind date for me, and here I am, but I can’t find the damn guy anywhere. Jingyi said he would wait for me at table eighteen and here you are, so I’m starting to think it was all an elaborate joke and I fell straight into it. He's probably imagining this scene as laughing his ass off at his home."

“Oh no, it’s nothing of the sort.” Jin Ling frowns, and Sizhui wants to run his thumb on his forehead and smooth the wrinkles—he doesn’t want Jin Ling to end up like his uncle so soon.

It would be easy to play along with his theory, to say Jingyi had tricked both of them, and now they might as enjoy the night and eat something. Yet, how could he make his way back home knowing that he was so close to letting the weight of this secret off his chest, and still failed?

Where would he find the courage to ask Jin Ling out for real, knowing that he fled on that first chance, that he might as well flee all others?

Did he deserve Jin Ling if he couldn’t bring himself to tell him what he feels?

“In fact, uh, Jingyi told you your date was sitting at table eighteen exactly because I'm sitting at table eighteen. As in, I’m the person Jingyi set you up with.” Not Jingyi, if I were to be a hundred percent honest. He smiles, though he doubts it’s a beautiful one, with all the anxiety hidden behind it. “Surprise!”

Surprise, I'm in love with you but I don’t know how to break the news! Still, I hope you'll like this terrible idea I had for a change.

The whispers of the couple sitting behind them are audible as Sizhui waits for Jin Ling’s answer. Something about what are kids these days up to? and an amazed chuckle. Not that Sizhui is paying attention to them when all he can focus on are Jin Ling’s eyes, open wide, his eyebrows raised so high Sizhui is scared they might touch his hairline if they keep going up.

That was why Sizhui wanted a Plan B. He has both hands clasped together over the table like a perfect-poised image of tranquility, but that’s only because, under the table, his feet are shaking. Uh oh, he thinks. He’s gonna come up with an excuse and run away. He’s gonna laugh at me. What was I thinking, holy shit, holy shit—

There’s the scraping of a chair against the floor — Sizhui is too nervous for that, but if this were any other day, he would flinch — and then Jin Ling sits down in front of him, his face unreadable even for Sizhui's trained eyes. “Well, that’s unexpected.” His fingers reach for the necklace, toying with the chain. It’s a telltale sign of nervousness. “Or maybe not, if you look closely.”

If Sizhui’s date with Zizhen had a weird mood all over it, it was because Sizhui wasn’t feeling anything for the other boy. If this one has a weird mood, it’s because Sizhui’s heart is about to leap from his mouth towards the world, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

“I mean—” Jin Ling continues, one arm propped on the table by the elbow, his pulse twirling in a circular motion, to encompass their surroundings. “I didn’t know you felt— well, I’ve always thought I was being inconspicuous about it all.”

“Uh, Jin Ling, I’m sorry but I think I lost you somewhere.” Sizhui scratches his head, grateful that, at least, he isn’t the only one that isn’t making sense. Jin Ling laughs, covering his face with a hand. If Sizhui didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that Jin Ling and Jingyi were the ones pulling a prank on him.

And the terrible truth is: he wouldn’t be sad for long if that was that case. At Jingyi, certainly, but not at Jin Ling. It was like he was programmed for Sizhui to forgive him, whatever happened. Something about the swell of his lip when he pouted that made Sizhui give in with no resistance.

But Jin Ling doesn’t look like someone who’s pulling a prank right now. He looks as serious as Sizhui himself feels.

“Just to be clear: this is not a joke, is it? It’s a real date. Did you know it was going to be me, or did Jingyi keep you in the dark too?”

Sizhui should’ve asked for a glass of water, for his throat feels as dry as a parchment with all the worry he feels, and there’s still too much to talk about. “First, not a joke. Second, I knew it was you. To tell the truth, I was the one who told Jingyi to set this up, because I wanted to ask you out but I couldn’t gather the courage to do it myself. So if you’re to be pissed at someone, it’s at me, not Jingyi. He’s innocent.”

“As if. I’m still going to strangle him.” Jin Ling taps his fingers against the table without pause. To be fair, Jingyi is hardly an innocent party in anything in which he’s involved. “So, let me get things right. You wanted to go out on a date with me, but you were, I don't know, scared, so you set the whole blind date thing up.” Sizhui nods. There it goes his chance of backing down and saying it was all a prank in case of failure. “I don’t get it. How long has this been going on? You’re never one to be scared of things. Why now?”

How nice it would be if Sizhui were able to answer that question. But he didn’t know the reason himself. All he knows is that every time he thought about being sincere, red alarms flared up inside his head, and the whole notion seemed silly and useless and potentially harmful for both parties involved. So he resigned himself to long periods of waiting, and hoping that this would pass, someday.

Sizhui is thinking of a way to say all this in a manner that makes sense when Jin Ling starts again, “You know what, how about we leave this place?”

“What? Why?” Oh no, Sizhui thinks. Now he’s pissed because I wasn’t straightforward enough, I should’ve done things as Jingyi told me to, as a normal person would. Idiot. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t look as sad as he feels, not while Jin Ling is sitting in front of him, watching his every reaction.

“Don’t make that face, I’m not going away. This place is too crowded, and I think we have things to talk about that maybe… Well, maybe it would be better if we were somewhere quieter.” The skin over Jin Ling’s cheekbones turns pink as he says that, even though his voice is snappy as if he was scolding Sizhui back at his home for playing into Jingyi’s antics. “Also, that couple on the next table is watching us, in case you didn’t notice.”

Yes, they had just started to bother him. “Okay. Then let’s go.” Sizhui stands up and so does Jin Ling, both of them walking toward the exit. Jin Ling is a little too close to him, but this might as well be Sizhui’s imagination. Who knows how many times he dreamed of them walking with arms around each other’s waist and shoulders, glued together, inseparable.

He hadn’t considered that such closeness would leave him almost dizzy.

The streets are busy, as they always are, but it’s different now that everyone is moving, just like them. It’s not like anyone else has the time or the mind to pay close attention to the conversation of two young men walking together, and even if they did, Sizhui and Jin Ling’s faces would be quickly forgotten from their minds, lost into an endless sea of people.

The wind has picked up from when they were inside the restaurant, and even under the jacket, Jin Ling shivers. Sizhui’s arm is around his body in an instant, like he always did when Jin Ling was cold and needed another source of heat. It’s only after he's moved that his ears turn pink and he has half a mind to step back and apologize; before he opens his mouth, jin ling relaxes against him, head slightly tilted towards Shizui’s shoulder.

He would love to get used to this; there would be no need to make even the smallest effort.

Walking around gives him time to ponder what needs to be said, but it’s not long before Jin Ling makes them stop in front of a food stall where tanghulu of all kinds wait to be sold. Jin Ling buys a traditional one because according to himself, the original recipe will always be better, no matter the circumstance. Sizhui buys one with strawberries because he’s crazy for them; he knows it makes Jin Ling a little crazy too.

It’s almost like any of the other times they went out together at night, eating and laughing and killing time away from their homework and other worries. Only this time they aren’t laughing, and Sizhui is worried to the point of exploding like a firecracker on the middle of the street.

Jin Ling stays silent, which makes it all worse.

That is until he points to a bench just out of sight, and they cross the square as Sizhui nods in agreement. The lamplight is too far to illuminate them properly, meaning that they're safe from prying eyes, but also that Sizhui can't make much more of Jin Ling's features than that the sharp curves of his face, framed against the moonlight.

“Who's starting,” Jin Ling asks, voice so flat it doesn't sound like a question at all. Sizhui doesn’t need light to know he's being deeply stared at—he can feel it burning on the surface of his skin. Forget it, I will. If you like me, why did you went on that date with Zizhen?”

He expected something ranging from How long since you wanted to ask me out? to Do you really like me? Is it more than simply liking me? Of course, he should’ve known Jin Ling would surprise him once again.

There’s laughter bubbling inside his chest, because of all questions, that one! But he takes a deep breath and keeps it down, [last/least] Jin Ling scolds him for not taking this conversation seriously.

Instead of answering, Sizhui retorts with a question of his own. “If you like me, why did you set me up on a date with Zizhen?”

Jin Ling tears his gaze away, mouth closed in a thin line. It’s the kind of thing that warns he’s about to change his default tone of voice to shouting. Again, Sizhui does not need lighting to know how flushed his cheeks must be. It would be nice, however, to see them. “How do you even know I like you?”

“I don’t, but you haven't fled off yet.” Jin Ling wouldn’t lead him on if he didn’t have a chance; he would never do something like that, and Sizhui knows that as much as he knows Jin Ling’s favorite dish or the best guqin melody to soothe his overactive nerves. “That’s as good an answer as I need.” And you have no idea how relieved it makes me.

When Jin Ling turns back to him, it’s with his whole body, sitting sideways on the bench, one leg folded under the other. Sizhui could pull him into his lap so easily, and he sticks his hands inside the coat’s pockets before doing something reckless. “Fine then. Answer my question already, I asked first.”

“I didn't think you could ever like me, so I… tried to like someone else.” Poor Zizhen, he thinks. It wasn’t like he ever stood a chance, no matter how good of a person he could turn out to be. Sizhui was the epitome of head over heels. Completely, utterly, hopelessly smitten. “Your turn.”

This time, Jin Ling doesn’t look away, even if it seems to be a physical effort to keep his body still, his face open for Sizhui’s scrutiny. “I hoped that if you started to date someone I would stop with my foolish hopes that you could like me back.” The sentence ends in a mirthless attempt at laughter. Jin Ling scratches the back of his head, and a few strands fall free of his ponytail with the motion. “I know it sounds stupid. I was kinda desperate.”

“Yeah, it does.” Sizhui is not going to deny it. They made quite a mess out of the situation. “But I was also stupid, fooling myself with the idea that I could forget you by going on a date with an unknown person, so we're even.”

“Good to know we both suffered all this time for nothing.” How long, Sizhui wonders, did they lose by being too afraid to take action? How many chances to hold Jin Ling’s hand, to play with his hair, to hug him for a few seconds more than a friend should?

How many chances to kiss Jin Ling his cowardice took away from him?

Jin Ling, it seems, it’s thinking the same. “How long?”

“Remember that presentation a few months ago, for economic principles?” Jin Ling groans; of course he remembers. Sizhui had never seen him so tired as the minutes before the presentation. “You were terrified of getting a bad grade, but your presentation was amazing — and I don’t know shit about business — and more than that, you seemed… so sure of yourself. So… mature? It was like something clicked inside me, and you weren’t a child anymore, but a man—a hardworking, dedicated, strikingly beautiful man, and I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t get you out of my head since.”

He can still see it, Jin Ling walking around the room, his steps certain, untroubled. As if he wasn’t tearing his hair out in chunks before getting inside the classroom. The sleek trousers and purple blazer he had worn that day had their share of guilt too.

“And for you?”

“A lot longer. Always? In a sense. Not like I do now, that is obvious. But it was always there.” Jin Ling reaches for his necklace, toying with the two rings that hang from it. “This, uh, recent development happened on that last musical contest. Do you remember? You totally deserved first place on the guqin, I can’t believe they did you dirty like that! Bunch of old farts, it’s what they are; but I digress. After that, I found out that childish infatuation didn’t fit what I felt for you any longer.”

His voice is small as he ends, and Sizhui takes the leap; reaches for Jin Ling’s hand where it rests jittery over his knee, intertwining their fingers together. He thinks about sliding the tips of his fingers down the wrist, lowering his head to plant a kiss over Jin Ling’s pulse point. Later, he swears to himself. It’s so close he can taste it. Later, like a promise.

Jin Ling doesn’t smile a lot, but when he does, oh boy, when he does Sizhui is helpless to do anything but bask in the light of it, drink it like sweet nectar that keeps him alive. Jin Ling's lips curl until a thin stripe of white teeth shines through, and he casts a bashful over their hands before squeezing sizhui’s fingers.

Almost imperceptibly, Jin Ling inches closer. Almost, because Sizhui is attuned to his every movement, watching too closely to miss anything. “We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

Sizhui, too, inclines his body towards him. “Good thing we’re not late enough to start.”

It’s Jin Ling who leans forward, using Sizhui’s knee as support, until they are close enough to kiss; it’s Sizhui who wraps a hand around Jin Ling’s neck and brings them together, lips sticky with sugar syrup.

Jin Ling tastes like hawthorn berries after his tanghulu, sweet with just an undertaste of sourness to break it. Slowly, Sizhui's tongue traces the inside of Jin Ling’s mouth, whose heartbeat he can feel under his finger, loud like thunder crashing down the skies.

It reminds him of his own heart thrashing against his ribcage, wild and full to the brim.

It’s only the plea of their lungs that make them part the kiss, keeping as little distance as possible. Somehow, Jin Ling is nearly sitting on Sizhui’s lap. Sizhui likes it more than he should.

“I'm so relieved,” he says, smiling sweetly. When Jin Ling smiles too (for the second time!), he adds, “For a second there I was scared you might be a bad kisser.”

That’s enough to make Jin Ling pinch his thigh—better than the mock punch on the chest he would receive in the past. “Sizhui! Shut the fuck up. I’m never kissing you again.”

“Don’t be mad! You’re an amazing kisser, but it wouldn’t be a problem at all if you weren’t. I would just have to spend more time teaching you, that’s all.”

Sizhui winks. Jin Ling shakes his head in exasperation, but there’s laughter on his lips, and Sizhui wants to sleep and wake up at the tune of it for the rest of his life.

“With a teacher like you, I wouldn't mind taking extra classes.”

Sizhui, as ever, is happy to oblige.

“And then he had the gall to ask me if I had liked the date as if he didn’t spend an entire hour talking about how beautiful Jin Ling looked in a suit, and how his smile could shed light into the darkest room and shit like that. And I was like, dude, give me a break!”

Zizhen has his legs thrown over Jingyi's lap, video game control in his head as he beats another room full of brain-eating zombies. Jingyi is trying to capture the best angle for a selfie without disrupting his liaison, as he likes to call Zizhen ever since Jin Ling caught them in the act two weeks ago.

“I did not say these things! Stop lying, Zizhen.” Sizhui is blushing crimson, from where he's sitting on the floor, but with Jin Ling’s head on his shoulder, their fingers laced over Sizhui’s thigh, he can’t find it in himself to be too bothered by his friend’s antics.

“You really think that?” Jin Ling whispers, for Sizhui's hearing only. He’s not smiling, yet—not with Jingyi and Zizhen watching them. It isn't a problem, since Sizhui can conjure a perfect image from memory without effort.

Maybe he did say something about Jin Ling’s smile on his date with Zizhen. So what? It is beautiful. How can one not praise beauty when it reveals itself willingly?

Sizhui nods, his lips brushing Jin Ling’s warm skin, the sculpted arch of a cheekbone which he had memorized over a few days of incessant touching where they couldn’t get their hands off each other.

Jin Ling smirks at him, but his lips are curved in the shape of a promise. Later, it says.

Sizhui isn’t anything if not patient.