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Nie Mingjue pads into the kitchen. It’s long past midnight, but he is unsurprised to see his husband and son at the dining table. He is unsurprised to see Jiang Cheng peeling clementines and arranging the slices on a plate. He’s a little surprised to see Jingyi with his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he cries, but something’s been off with him for a couple days. Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem overly alarmed, so Mingjue trusts that Jingyi will talk when he’s ready.
“How do you always wake up first?” Mingjue asks as he stops to drop a kiss on the top of Jiang Cheng’s head.
“Finely tuned jiujiu senses,” he replies. He offers Mingjue a slice of clementine. “Remember when jiejie was so ill after Jin Ling was born, and I stayed with him so Zixuan could be at the hospital?”
“Ah, of course.” Mingjue rounds the table and rests his hand on the back of Jingyi’s neck. “Tea?”
Jingyi nods.
“Okay.” Mingjue gently squeezes the back of Jingyi’s neck before setting to work brewing the tea. He’s relieved to hear Jingyi’s sobs give way to sniffling and the occasional hiccup, but he merely lets the tea steep, bringing the pot and three cups to the table.
By the time he’s poured the tea, Jiang Cheng has cleared away all the peels and distributed slices all around. Jingyi wipes his face and accepts a cup of tea and takes a minute to let its warmth ground him.
“I have to show you something,” he says, voice scarcely above a whisper. He pulls a crumpled paper from his hoodie pocket. “My SAT scores.” He shoves the paper at Mingjue and Jiang Cheng, then folds his arms on the table and hides his face.
They exchange looks, and Jiang Cheng frowns. They’ve been talking -- together, with Jingyi, with Lan Qiren -- for months about Jingyi’s plans after high school. They have not considered the possibility that -- that something might derail those plans.
Mingjue smooths out the paper on the table, already preparing a soothing comment, promises of support, pledges to find a tutor who --
“Fourteen eighty?” Mingjue checks the number again and hands the paper to Jiang Cheng.
“Yes,” Jingyi says miserably.
“But--”
Jingyi looks up at them. “Ms. Luo said that with this score, combined with my extra curriculars, I can go almost anywhere.”
“Okay?” Mingjue looks at Jiang Cheng, who shrugs.
“She said I could do a-anything I w-want!” Jingyi covers his face as his tears flow anew.
Mingjue is baffled, and from the look on Jiang Cheng’s face, he is, too. So they simply pick up their chairs and sit on either side of him, Mingjue’s arm around Jingyi’s shoulder, Jiang Cheng a warm and steady presence on Jingyi’s left, and they wait until he composes himself.
“What if I pick the wrong thing?” Jingyi says at last. “What if I waste my time and all the money my p-they spend on university?” His words tumble over themselves. “What if I do it wrong, and I mess up, and my life is ruined, and I lose everything, and no one wants me because I don't have a job, or a future, or money or --”
“Whoa, whoa!” Mingjue gently grips the back of Jingyi’s neck again, and Jiang Cheng grabs one of Jingyi’s flailing hands. “Take a breath!” When Jingyi manages to suck in one shuddering breath, Mingjue squeezes the back of his neck. “Another one. Good. One more? Good. Good boy.” He tries not to laugh, but he can’t help chuckling a little. Jiang Cheng shoots a glare his way, and Jingyi sends a matching one, but at least he’s stopped sobbing for the moment.
“Sorry, sorry,” Mingjue says, though he can’t stop grinning. “It’s just been awhile since I’ve had to deal with an epic, existential freak out.
“Mingjue-ge.”
“Sorry!” He kisses Jingyi’s temple. “But seriously, you went from zero to a million pretty quickly, kiddo.”
“It’s just! Life! And everything! And--”
“Breathe,” Mingjue commands.
Jingyi tries to elbow Mingjue in the side. “I’m serious!”
“So am I!” Mingjue pats Jingyi’s back. “Drink some tea.”
“But--”
“Drink it.” He waits. Jingyi glares at him, then takes another miniscule sip of tea. “More. Good. Okay.” He looks over at Jiang Cheng. “Do you need some more tea, too, A-Cheng? You’re looking a little anxious yourself.”
“Of course I’m anxious! My son is upset and my husband is laughing at him!”
“Not at him. Jingyi, kiddo, I’m not laughing at you, I promise.” Mingjue sighs. “It’s scary, looking at the future straight on. I get it. I won’t say you’re worrying for nothing. But you kind of are, a little.”
“Mingjue!”
“Just a little!” Mingjue plucks a slice of clementine off a plate and tosses it at Jiang Cheng. “Have a snack.”
“You--”
“Jingyi. You said … a lot of things, buddy, so I might miss something, but let me assure of you of one thing. When you mess up -- when, not if, because you will make mistakes because you are a human -- when you mess up, we will always be here for you. Right, A-Cheng?”
“Of course!” Jiang Cheng snaps. “That’s not what--”
“Always,” Mingjue cuts in. “No matter what.”
“What if I murder someone?” Jingyi asks warily.
“I’m sure it would be justifiable homicide at worst, and you know Meng Yao can help us hide a body.”
Jingyi’s eyes go wide as saucers as Jiang Cheng hisses, “Mingjue, what the fuck!”
“Try not to kill anyone, of course, but we’ll stand by you either way.”
“What if I don’t want to go to university?”
Mingjue bites back a laugh because he can see Jingyi is serious. And he supposes to a seventeen-year-old, the possibility of defying familial expectations is every bit as serious as murder.
“Do you?” he asks instead. “It occurs to me that in all the conversations we’ve been having, I don’t think we’ve every asked you that.”
Jingyi shrugs.
“Jingyi.” Jiang Cheng reaches over to lift Jingyi’s chin so he can look him in the eye. “Kiddo. You can answer honestly. Neither of us will be mad or disappointed.”
“Yes?” Jingyi bites his lip. “Probably? Everyone else is going! What else would I do?”
“Work?” Mingjue says. “Travel?”
“By myself?”
“No,” Mingjue allows. “But we’ve got friends and family all over. It’s not unheard of to take a gap year. If that’s something you want to do, we can help you make that happen.”
Jingyi sighs, but he doesn’t try to cover his face again. “Sizhui, Zizhen, and Jin Ling are all going to Gusu. And my p- they’ll cover my tuition for Gusu. Great Uncle made them promise.”
“Tuition isn’t the question,” Jiang Cheng says. “Do you want to go to university directly after graduation?”
“I mean, yeah? But I don’t know what I want to do after.”
“Do you know what you want to study?” Mingjue asks.
“Not really,” Jingyi admits. “Animals? And people?”
“Not plants?” Mingjue quips before he can stop himself.
“Oh, um, maybe?” Jingyi looks thoughtful. “I liked making our garden.”
“Idiot,” Jiang Cheng says fondly, reaching over to slap Mingjue.
“Yeah,” Mingjue says, leaning over, “I deserve that.” He lets Jiang Cheng smack his cheek, playfully biting at his fingers. “But seriously,” he goes on, turning his attention back to Jingyi, “if I’m hearing this correctly, you do want to go to university, but you’re not sure what you want to study?”
Jingyi nods. His eyes start to water.
“Okay, okay.” Mingjue grabs Jingyi’s right hand, and Jiang Cheng takes his left. “It’s okay.” He kisses the back of Jingyi’s hand. “We don’t have to figure it out tonight. In fact,” he says around a yawn, “making decisions after one in the morning is almost universally a bad idea.”
“Dad-jue’s right,” Jiang Cheng says. “How about we make an appointment to come and talk with Ms. Luo in a week or so? I’m sure she deals with this all the time, and I bet she has some sort of quiz or or aptitude test or something that can help you narrow down your interests.”
“But what if I change my mind?” Jingyi asks.
“Then you change your mind,” Mingjue says. “I’ve changed careers twice now.”
“Really?”
“Yup. I got my degree in business and worked for my aunt at Nie Corps for about five years. I felt obligated, after my dad died, and I love my aunt, but the business side of things was soul-crushing, so I switched to the PR side. But it turns out I hate bull-shitting with kiss-asses--”
“Mingjue!”
“--but I really liked learning about the products we put out, and I wanted to see if I could make it easier for the scientists we employed to actually do their work, so I moved over to head up R and D and now I get to spend most of my time with smart, passionate, interesting people, and when I have to deal with kiss-asses, it’s to make things easier for my crew, so I’m happy to do it.”
“And you just got to do that?” Jingyi asks skeptically.
“Well, I was certainly lucky that my aunt was invested in my happiness as much as she was invested in the company, but in the end, I had to put in the work to make my career and my life what I wanted.”
“You have a lot of support, too, Jingyi,” Jiang Cheng says. “But Mingjue’s right. This is not something to worry about tonight.”
Jingyi looks as though he wants to keep arguing, but he simply takes a breath and throws himself at Mingjue, burying his face in the crook of Mingjue’s neck. He reaches back for Jiang Cheng and lets himself be held by his dads for a few moments.
“You’re sure it’s gonna be okay?” he mumbles.
Mingjue squeezes him tight and reaches around for Jiang Cheng as well.
“Absolutely certain, kiddo.”
“Dad?”
“Totally sure,” Jiang Cheng says. “It’ll look much better after some sleep.”
Jingyi chuckles at this. “Fine, fine, I’ll go to bed.” He extracts himself from their embrace and wipes his eyes. “Thanks. You want me to clean up the dishes?”
“Nah,” Jiang Cheng says, waving him away. “You go to bed. We’ll get pancakes tomorrow … later today.” He grins and accepts a kiss on the cheek.
“Okay. Love you.” Jingyi turns and smacks a kiss on Mingjue’s cheek. “Love you, Dad-jue.”
“Love you, too.”
Jiang Cheng waits quietly at the table until they hear Jingyi’s door close, then heaves an enormous sigh and flops over on the table.
“You alright, babe?” Mingjue asks, scooting his chair closer to Jiang Cheng.
“Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t lift his head, so Mingjue isn’t convinced.
“You’re upset.”
“No.” Jiang Cheng sits up and rubs his eyes. “Not upset.” He flashes a rueful grin. “Is it completely horrible and selfish that I kind of want Jingyi to take a year and stay with us before going off to Gusu? I had this vision of going to visit Huaisang in Hong Kong for like three months. How amazing would that be?”
“It’s not selfish,” Mingjue says. “It feels like he only just got here.”
Jiang Cheng laughs. “Maybe we should have another baby,” he jokes, waggling his eyebrow.
“We could,” Mingjue says, completely seriously.
Jiang Cheng freezes.
“Or not.” Mingjue smiles and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand. “If you want, we can talk about it. After we get Jingyi through to the next part of his journey.”
“Wait, are you serious?”
“I am,” MIngjue says. He’s surprised to realize that he means it. “I actually am. I definitely want to talk about it, but not until we see Jingyi though. Is that okay?”
Jiang Cheng pushes his chair back and deposits himself in Mingjue’s lap. He kisses Mingjue. “You know that you’re enough for me. You and Jingyi.”
“I do. I promise, my heart, that I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.” He returns Jiang Cheng’s kiss. “And I haven’t thought about this, not seriously, but maybe someone’s missing something that we can give? But not for a while. Let’s take care of the son we have now, and then we really should go to Hong Kong and see Huaisang. But first?”
“Yeah?”
Mingjue kisses Jiang Cheng once more. “I’m really tired, and I’d really like to go to bed.”
Jiang Cheng smiles. “That is a really good plan.”