Work Text:
Jiang Cheng drifts on lotus-scented waves, buoyed by something warm and solid beneath him. His eyes are closed, but he feels utterly relaxed. He feels safe. He--
He should change his ringtone from the BTS song Zizhen set when Jiang Cheng wasn’t paying attention, but he has to admit (to himself, at least) that it is what the kids call a bop.
“‘S early,” mutters Nie Mingjue. His arms circle Jiang Cheng reflexively, and Jiang Cheng’s instinct is to cling to him.
So this part isn’t a dream, he thinks as he pats Mingjue’s chest.
“It’s family,” Jiang Cheng replies. He has to kiss Mingjue before he’s allowed to sit up and get his phone. “Otherwise it wouldn’t ring through.”
Jiang Cheng rubs his eyes and grabs his phone from the nightstand. He knocks his glasses on the floor and has to squint at the screen.
“A-Ling, it is six in the morning. We are not Lans. What’s wrong?”
Mingjue sits up and rests his head against Jiang Cheng’s shoulder as Jiang Cheng has a quick conversation with his nephew.
“He what?” Jiang Cheng says, sitting up straighter.
“What’s wrong?” Mingjue moves to get up, but Jiang Cheng waves a hand and stops him.
“Okay. Okay. Yeah, come over at ten. We’ll make a plan. Okay. Yup. Okay. Jin Ling. Breathe. It’s okay. Alright. Okay.” Jiang Cheng sighs. “Yes. I promise. Okay. See you at ten.”
Jiang Cheng ends the call and sighs again.
“What’s the matter?”
Jiang Cheng takes Mingjue’s hand. “So, yesterday was Jingyi’s birthday, and apparently, his shit-bag parents forgot. The kid made his own cake, and when he brought it out after dinner, they were upset that it spoiled their evening plans to go to some art show or something.”
“Fuck.” Even in their darkened room, Jiang Cheng could see Mingjue’s stormy expression.
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng sets his phone on the nightstand and tugs at Mingjue until they’re comfortably reclining in the bed. “Yeah, Jin Ling said he called in the middle of the night. He must have felt horrible if he actually called someone.” Jiang Cheng rubs his cheek against Mingjue’s chest, and Mingjue hugs him tightly.
“Doctor Lam will be happy,” Mingjue says. “Not about Jingyi’s shitty parents, but that he’s talking to people.”
“True.” Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and sinks into Mingjue’s warm embrace. “Wangji’s bringing the boys over at ten. We’re going to plan a party for the kiddo.”
Planning Lan Jingyi’s fifteenth birthday party is, Jiang Cheng thinks while Zizhen and Jin Ling argue over the merits of the roller rink versus the laser tag arcade, a much bigger headache than it needs to be, but he presses on because he’s not going to be another adult to let Jingyi down. He only intervenes in the debate when it looks like Zizhen and Jin Ling are about to start slapping each other, vetoing both the roller rink -- it’s not a savory place, Zizhen, not any more-- and the arcade --that places books up months in advance, kiddo.
Mingjue comes up with a compromise. A picnic at the local skate park. He and Jiang Cheng had already bought Jingyi a new board and safety equipment, which they planned to give him at his welcome home dinner.
“I like the idea, Uncle Mingjue,” Sizhui says. “I don’t think Jingyi wants a big deal made of his birthday, but he wants a medium deal?”
“Mn.” Wangji sips his tea. “I believe he would not want more attention drawn to his … inadequate … celebration.” Coming from Lan Wangji, that was as good as cursing out Jingyi’s parents.
“The weather’s supposed to be gorgeous next weekend,” Jiang Cheng says, making notes on his phone. He taps to a new screen. “And the covered picnic area nearby is available.” He enters his details to reserve the space for the afternoon. “It’s close enough to easily get food when you guys get hungry but not so close that the grown-ups are hovering.” He winks at Jin Ling, who rolls his eyes. “What’s the menu gonna be?”
“Fried chicken,” the others chorus.
It’s Jiang Cheng’s turn to roll his eyes. “Obviously. We’ll order from Tanaka’s. What else?”
“Baba said he’d make the cake, but I think cupcakes would be better,” Jin Ling offers.
“Love it,” Jiang Cheng says, making a note. “What else?”
“We’ll bring fruit and drinks, won’t we Papa?” Sizhui asks Wangji.
“Of course,” Wangji says.
“I’ll make decorations!” Zizhen exclaims. He bounces in his seat. “Mr. Uncle Huaisang is giving me calligraphy lessons this year. I bet he would help me make a banner!”
“No glitter,” Mingjue and Jiang Cheng say with a laugh.
“I am an artist, A-Cheng. I don’t need to be flashy,” Jiang Cheng declares.
“Someone has to be responsible for bringing good taste to a gathering, da-ge,” Mingjue adds.
“Exactly,” Zizhen says, beaming and completely missing the point.
“Alright, kiddo, you’re in charge of decoration. Mingjue and I will bring the chicken and picnic supplies, Lan-Weis in charge of drinks and fruit, and Jins have the desserts.”
“Desserts for what?”
The assembled party planning crew turn as one and find Lan Jingyi standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Jingyi, I thought we were picking you up on Sunday?” Mingjue says. He’s already out of his seat and reaching for Jingyi to give him a hug.
Jingyi lets himself be pulled in, sagging when Mingjue hugs him.
“Something came up,” he says, voice rough. “Mom ordered a cab for me.”
“You should--” Jiang Cheng starts, but he bites back his remark. Instead, he gets up and joins Jingyi and Mingjue. “You know we’ll always come and get you if you need us, right?”
Jingyi nods, and Jiang Cheng kisses the top of his head. He’s almost too tall for it, but he ducks his head so Jiang Cheng doesn’t have to stand on tiptoes.
“I didn’t want to-- I wanted to think,” Jingyi says.
Mingjue and Jiang Cheng exchange glances.
“Okay.” Mingjue looks over Jingyi’s shoulders. “Do we need to pay the driver?”
Jingyi shakes his head. “Mom covered it. My bags are by the door.”
“I’ll help you with them,” Mingjue says. He squeezes Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and follows Jingyi to the entryway of the apartment.
“We will text you if we have any questions,” Wangji says after a moment, “but the plan is still for a week from Saturday?”
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng walks around the table, instinctively giving each of his nephews (Zizhen included) a hug and kiss. “Jin Ling, will you let Jie know that we’ll probably have one more for family dinner tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, jiujiu.”
Jiang Cheng sees his guests out and then goes to Jingyi’s room. His heart breaks when he sees Jingyi curled against Mingjue, trying to cry as quietly as possible. He sits down, and Jingyi gets an arm around his waist to hug them both.
“Kiddo,” Jiang Cheng says, voice catching.
“I’m okay,” Jingyi says, sniffling.
“It’s just us, Jingyi,” Mingjue says. He rubs Jingyi’s back.
“I am okay. Really.” He lets go of Jiang Cheng to wipe his nose on his arm.
“Gross,” Jiang Cheng says automatically, and it startles a laugh from Jingyi, breaking the tension in the room.
“Sorry.” Jingyi snorts and clears his throat. “But I am okay. I’m, I just, I thought it would be easier, you know? Better. If they didn’t see me as often, they would be really happy when I was there! But they just. They don’t want me.” He sniffs again, and before Mingjue or Jiang Cheng can say anything, Jingyi sighs and tries to hug them both at the same time. “But you do. So I asked if I could come back early.” He looks up at them through tear-wet lashes. “Is that okay?”
Mingjue coughs. “Yeah, buddy. That’s great.”
Jingyi sucks in a breath. “Can… can I call you ‘Dad?’”
“Yeah.” Mingjue’s voice cracks.
“Both of us?” Jiang Cheng asks.
Jingyi thinks it over. “Can I call you ‘Dad,’” he says, leaning against Jiang Cheng a moment, “and you ‘Dad-jue?’”
Mingjue’s guffaw is startling and bright. “Yeah, buddy. That sounds good.”
“Dad?”
Jiang Cheng kissed Jingyi’s temple. “Yes, my son?”
“I’m really hungry.”
“It’s lunchtime,” Mingjue says.
“You want to go to Tanaka’s?” Jiang Cheng asks.
Jingyi thinks for a moment. “No,” he says slowly, “not today. I don’t want chicken to become a sadness food. I only want to have it when I’m happy. Can we get pizza?”
“Sure thing.” Jiang Cheng bumps Jingyi with his shoulder. “Why don’t you go wash your face? We’ll go put on real pants and head out, okay?”
“Yeah.” Jingyi gives them both bone-crushing hugs. He pauses at the door and looks back at them. “I love you guys.”
“We love you, too, kiddo,” Jiang Cheng says.
They wait until they hear the bathroom door close and the rush of water from the tap before letting their smiles fall.
“I don’t suppose we could get Huaisang to do something devious,” Jiang Cheng scowls.
“Probably not,” Mingjue says, his expression equally thunderous. “Meng Yao might --”
“No.” Jiang Cheng sighs and reaches for Mingjue for a quick kiss. “No, we should focus on Jingyi. Although I am going to have a conversation with Lan Qiren.”
“Mm, smart.” Mingjue stands and helps Jiang Cheng to his feet. “He’s been itching to take those shiftless jerks down a few pegs.” He follows Jiang Cheng to their room.
“You know,” Jiang Cheng says as they change out of their lounging clothes, “there are still three weeks left of summer vacation. Do you think you could get some time off work? We could take Jingyi on a road trip to the coast. There’s that aquarium. And the haunted boardwalk tour. And--”
“No!”
Jiang Cheng turns in time to catch Jingyi as he launches himself at them. “No ghosts! But the aquarium has a whale shark!” He extracts himself from Jiang Cheng’s arms. “That would be so cool to see!”
Mingjue grins at his family. “I think we could manage it. But first?”
“Pizza!” Jiang Cheng and Jingyi reply.
"Pizza," Mingjue agrees. He ruffles Jingyi's hair. "It's good to have you back, my son."
Jingyi grins. "It's good to be home."