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“We can’t keep doing this.”
“Sorry, I thought we, I thought you—“
“I meant in the kitchen, A-Cheng. We can’t keep doing this in the kitchen. Not with Jingyi moving in.”
“You started it, Mingjue!”
“I can stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
Jiang Cheng prides himself on his cool and level head and his ability to handle change like a goddamned grown up. Mingjue loves Jiang Cheng’s optimism and commitment to the delusion that he is ever even remotely calm. Even his dreams are anxious and energetic, if the things he mutters (shouts, mumbles, and dictates) in the middle of the night are anything to go by.
“How can you sit there drinking coffee?” Jiang Cheng demands. He glares at Mingjue over his shoulder before going back to furiously scrubbing the already-spotless countertops for the fifth time since he woke up that morning.
“You made it for me. It would be rude not to drink it.”
“Jerk.”
Mingjue finishes the last of his coffee. He puts his cup in the sink and pins Jiang Cheng to the counter before he can snatch it from the sink and scrub it. Mingjue holds Jiang Cheng, putting just enough strength into it to keep Jiang Cheng from shoving him aside to continue his relentless cleaning mission. When Jiang Cheng huffs and relaxes a fraction of an inch, Mingjue rewards him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Would it help to go through the room again? Make sure there’s nothing we need to get before Jingyi gets here?”
“No,” Jiang Cheng mutters darkly, “everything’s fine. I checked with Sizhui last week about the model of phone Jingyi has and bought the right charger when I went to the store yesterday. We can get everything else at Target this weekend when we take him to get things to decorate.”
“Good.” Mingjue smooths Jiang Cheng’s hair from his forehead and leaves a kiss there. “And did you decide on dinner plans?”
“Delivery. Jingyi’s choice.”
“Excellent!” Mingjue gathers Jiang Cheng into an embrace. “We’re ready.”
“As we’ll ever be,” Jiang Cheng sighs as he gets his arms around Mingjue.
It had taken nearly six months to get from the summer afternoon that found a soaked and shivering Jingyi on their porch to now. They weren’t technically adopting Jingyi. His parents had put up a surprising fight over the notion, and even Lan Qiren’s threats to expose their neglect had done nothing to sway them. In the end, they worked out a guardianship agreement. Jingyi would live with Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng during the school year and most of the summer while he was in high school. His parents got two weeks in the summer and Christmas break, which none of them really cared about. Jingyi would spend Lunar New Year with the extended Lan-Jiang-Nie families — his real family, Jingyi had confided in Jiang Cheng one night at a family dinner at Yanli’s.
“You’re thinking very loudly.”
Jiang Cheng blinks up at Mingjue. “Worried,” he admits. “Same old thing,” he goes on before Mingjue can ask. “What if Jingyi hates it? What if we’re not enough? What if we fuck up the kid more?”
“We’re not going to be enough,” Mingjue says, “not you and me alone, but we don’t have to be. We’ve just got to make sure Jingyi has a stable place to come back to every day. We can definitely feed and shelter him. And giving him the stability of a house means he’ll always have a place where he can gather his family and friends. He’ll have adults he can trust to take him to those family and friends. And all that, my heart, will be more than enough.”
Mingjue draws him into a kiss, and Jiang Cheng relaxes further.
“And if we fuck him up? Because neither of us had great parental figures — well, yours sounded good. Amazing actually. Just, you know—“
“I do,” Mingjue says. “We will make mistakes because we are human, but we aren’t assholes.” Mingjue grins. “At least not to the kid.”
“We’re doing the right thing though.”
“We absolutely are.” Mingjue gives Jiang Cheng another kiss before he lets go. He checks his watch. “Lan Qiren is bringing him over at three, right? Let’s take advantage of our last kid-free morning for a while, yeah? Let me distract you.”
“You’re a terrible influence, Nie Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, but he takes Mingjue’s hand and drags him to their bedroom nonetheless.
At three on the dot, the doorbell chimes a sickly melody — Jiang Cheng really needs to change the battery. He opens the door to greet Lan Qiren and Lan Jingyi.
“Hello, Uncle Lan.” Jiang Cheng bows slightly and steps aside to let them come in.
“Wanyin.” Lan Qiren pats Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “Good afternoon, Mingjue,” he says as Mingjue joins them from the kitchen.
“Hello, Uncle. Hiya, kiddo.” Mingjue looks at the bag in Jingyi’s hand and the small roller suitcase at his side. “Is there more in the car? I’ll get it.”
“This is it, Uncle Mingjue,” Jingyi says. “We got rid of, uh, donated a lot of stuff when Mom and Dad sold the house.”
Jiang Cheng and Mingjue exchange looks with Lan Qiren.
“They decided to … simplify, now that they no longer needed space for … now that Jingyi has a place here.”
“I see.” Jiang Cheng takes a breath and relaxes his hand.
Mingjue takes the suitcase and gestures for Jingyi to follow. “Come on, kiddo. I know you already know where your room is, but I want to show you a few things we got to help you get settled.”
Jingyi takes a hesitant step forward, but stops. He sets his bag down and carefully embraces Lan Qiren. “Thank you for the ride, Uncle.” He looks up at Lan Qiren. “Thank you for everything. Will you still call me?”
Lan Qiren returns Jingyi’s hug and pats his back. “Perhaps just on Sundays. I’m sure you’ll be busy with school. But I shall also text you each night, and you may text me any time.”
Jingyi’s smile is soft. “Okay. I’ll text you tonight.”
Once Mingjue and Jingyi are safely in the boy’s bedroom, Lan Qiren drops his polite mask.
“Did they—“
“They did not, Wanyin.” Lan Qiren takes an envelope from his jacket pocket and hands it to Jiang Cheng. It’s stuffed with cash.
Jiang Cheng thumbs through the bills. “This is a lot more than the monthly maintenance amount they agreed to,” he says. “And I thought they were going to make the transfer electronically.”
“This is from me,” Lan Qiren says. “No arguments, Wanyin.” He sighs. “The boy insists that he has all the important things from his parent’s house, but I noticed he did not have a laptop. I believe his parents sold the computer he was using. He’ll need one for school.”
“We can take care of that. Mingjue and I have created a budget. We’ve talked to Jiejie and Wei Ying and have a good idea of how much it’s gonna cost to raise a teenager.”
“I know. I trust you and Mingjue,” Lan Qiren says, “but I would like to do this. I don’t wish to interfere—“ He glares at Jiang Cheng’s startled laugh — “I don’t wish to interfere with you, but I would still like to make this transition as easy as possible.” He rubs his eyes. “I wanted to take him in, so many times. I should have done it.”
Jiang Cheng risks a quick hug, releasing the startled Lan Qiren before Mingjue or Jingyi catch them. “We’ve got him now. He’ll be okay.”
“More than, I expect,” Lan Qiren says as he catches sight of Jingyi and Mingjue over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “But you will call me if any issues — and I mean anything, Jiang Wanyin — arise.”
“Of course.” Jiang Cheng shakes his hand and steps aside to let Mingjue do the same.
“Well, I shall let you get on with it.” Lan Qiren rests his hands on Jingyi’s shoulders. “I shall text you tonight and call you Sunday. And you may text or call any time.”
“I will, Uncle. Thank you, Uncle.” Jingyi hugs Lan Qiren once more.
Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue, and Lan Jingyi stand in awkward silence for a moment after the door closes.
“So,” Mingjue says, rubbing the back of his neck, “we thought maybe you—“
Jingyi grins and launches himself at Mingjue. Mingjue catches the lanky teen easily, years of nephew-wrangling reflexes kicking in.
“I’m here!” Jingyi crows. “I’m really here! Finally!” He gives Mingjue a hug that’s part affection, part chokehold, squirms out of Mingjue’s arms, and throws himself at Jiang Cheng. “And you’re here! We’re here!”
“Hell yeah we are,” Jiang Cheng laughs. He hoists Jingyi up and settles him on his hip as Jingyi wraps his legs around Jiang Cheng’s waist. It doesn’t matter that he’s nearly as tall as Jiang Cheng — Jingyi is their kid, and they are his dads!
“I didn’t want Great Uncle to think I was ungrateful to him or, like, too happy to be leaving my parents,” Jingyi says, clinging to Jiang Cheng, “but I’m so freaking excited to be here!” He frowns suddenly. “Is that bad? Should I be sad?”
“Kiddo,” Mingjue says, reaching over to ruffle Jingyi’s hair, “you feel however you need to feel.”
Jingyi appears to consider this. “What if I feel hungry?”
“Then we’ll feed you.”
“What if I feel hungry for that Japanese fried chicken?”
Jiang Cheng laughs as he sets Jingyi on the floor. “Then we’ll order it.”
“Every day?”
“Maybe not every day,” Mingjue says. “We’re Dads now. We’ve got to make sure you get things like vegetables and boundaries.”
“Vegetables and boundaries sounds like a terrible idea,” Jingyi pouts. Then he grins. “But I am a Wayward Youth! Uncle Wei said so! So I should probably poke that boundary. I can beg for the chicken and also get tempura veggies!”
“Veggies that aren’t fried,” Jiang Cheng says. He slings an arm around Jingyi’s shoulders and steers him toward the kitchen. “At least some of the time. And maybe don’t listen too much to Wei Ying. He’s a menace.”
“He’s so cool!” Jingyi insists.
“We’re cool!” Mingjue says. “We can be cool!”
“No, we are not.” Jiang Cheng reaches past Jingyi to poke Mingjue in the side. “Let’s not set ourselves up for failure. But for now,” he says to Jingyi, “we can most definitely order that chicken. And while we wait, we’ll make a list of all the things you still need and the things that you want — not chicken related — for your room, okay?”
Jingyi taps his nose in an imitation of Wei Ying’s thinking face, and Jiang Cheng suppresses an eye roll. “Okay. This is a good plan. But! There is this really cool lamp shaped like a dumpling. I saw it online. That would be so cool!”
Mingjue and Jiang Cheng exchange glances. Lan Jingyi is hungry, all right. Hungry for so many things. They are going to have their work cut out for them, making sure their kiddo is fed.
“Sounds great,” Jiang Cheng says. He steers Jingyi to a seat at the table and hands him the takeout menu for Tanaka’s. “Circle what you want, and then we’ll get to work on a shopping list.”
Jingyi stares at the menu for a full minute before he bursts into tears. Jiang Cheng and Mingjue are at his side instantly. It takes another minute or two of soothing words from Mingjue and Jiang Cheng’s firm hand on his back before Jingyi can speak.
“I really get to have all this?” he chokes out, and Jiang Cheng understands that he isn’t talking about the chicken.
“For as long as you want, Jingyi,” he says, pulling Mingjue in to hug them both.
“Forever, as far as I’m concerned,” Mingjue adds. He kisses the top of Jingyi’s head. “Although we really will need to include some vegetables because my doctor is fussing at me about my cholesterol levels.”
Jingyi sniffs and wipes his nose on his arm. “Forever,” he says.
“Forever,” Jiang Cheng agrees.