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“Ge is fretting.” Xichen looked up from cutting his omelette into tiny little pieces to see his brother frowning at him in concern. He put a piece of egg into his mouth and chewed, very slowly. Wei Ying reached across the table, setting a particularly fat piece of bok choy into Xichen’s bowl before turning his face up into an attentive expression.
“Out with it, Xichen ge. Lan Zhan’s been watching you mutilate his poor omelette for the past five minutes, and I know it’s not because it doesn’t taste good.”
The omelette did not taste half bad, considering it was Wangji’s first attempt. While the Twin Jades were proficient at many things, a chef neither of them made. Wangji could not be trusted make anything without extreme supervision and it was only under Mingjue’s careful tutelage that Xichen managed to amass a small repertoire of recipes that he could cook without burning down the house. One of them included Mingjue’s favourite Chongqing grilled fish that Xichen made only on special occasions.
“I’m thinking of proposing,” Xichen said, almost under his breath. He had not chosen a ring yet, or even attempted to steal Mingjue’s promise ring to get a size. But they had been talking about it, and the idea sounded more and more appealing.
Even though it had been a half-whisper, Wangji had heard him, his eyes growing wide. Xichen knew it was news to his brother, for Xichen had always clung to the idea that he did not need a diamond ring, or a fancy wedding to represent his love. But he knew Mingjue always wanted to get married, and the more he thought about it, the more the idea grew on him.
“Oh my god,” Wei Ying exclaimed. “Have you picked a ring? You know he’s gonna say yes, Xichen ge. There’s no way he’ll turn you down.”
“I know that, but how do I ask him?” Xichen shredded the rest of his omelette without thinking and got a mournful look from Wangji for his efforts. “He’s not much for big gestures and I don’t really want to propose in public.”
He stared down at the poor yellow slices of egg, scooping them onto his soup spoon before putting the whole thing into his mouth. They really were delicious, but he had been fretting over the proposing thing for so long that he did not really taste them.
Wangji and Wei Ying exchanged glances and shook their heads as one.
“Don’t plan it.”
“It’ll go to shit if you plan it.”
Xichen blinked, taken aback by their adamant responses. Especially from Wangji. He knew for a fact that Wangji had made a list and a twelve-step plan just to propose to Wei Ying. It simply was not like his brother to ask him to wing something so important.
Wei Ying leaned forward across the table, taking a chopstick full of fish.
“Trust me, Xichen ge. Just do it when the moment feels right. That’s all you’ll need.”
How does a moment feel right? Xichen pondered the question as he drove home, loaded down with Wei Ying’s famous siew mai for Mingjue. Perhaps that was a question that he should have been able to answer before Wangji, but he had always been so caught up in his work and school and making sure that his little brother was happy that he had never thought about settling down until after Wangji married Wei Ying.
He was still thinking when he walked through the door of the apartment and was struck by the image of Mingjue curled up on their couch, half asleep with his book nearly falling off his lap. Xichen set aside the dumplings with a smile, going to plop next to his boyfriend, startling him awake.
“You’re home,” Mingjue mumbled sleepily, cuddling up to Xichen. Xichen kissed his forehead, stroking a lock of curly hair away from Mingjue’s face.
“How was your day?” he asked tenderly. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too,” Mingjue said, tilting his head to kiss Xichen’s cheek. “It’s better now that you’re here.”
Xichen laughed, pressing his lips to Mingjue’s nose. He ruffled his hair, moving to get up, but Mingjue rolled over him squashing him into the cushions. He let out an ‘oof’, hands falling into Mingjue’s hips.
“Oh?” He cocked his head, thigh pushing between Mingjue’s legs. “Look what we have here.”
“Tease,” Mingjue grunted, already reaching for Xichen’s fly.
Xichen scoffed incredulously.
“I haven’t done anything!”
Mingjue arched an eyebrow, unbuttoning Xichen’s slacks with nimble fingers. Xichen’s hips rolled towards his hand, and a stuttering breath escaped his lips.
“That display at breakfast? You didn’t even let me finish,” Mingjue accused as he slid his hand in Xichen’s pants. Xichen did not even have the chance to explain himself before a moan was choking in his throat. All thoughts of his impending proposal flew out of his head as Mingjue took him into his mouth.
-
It did not take long for Xichen to fall into the habit of noticing small pockets of time where he would look at Mingjue, and his heart would fill. They were lounging around on one of the rare Sundays that they did not spend rolling around in the sheets with each other and he looked over to see Mingjue curled up on the loveseat, Baxia lying on his chest, sunning herself in the patch of sun that fell directly over Mingjue’s bare chest and the domesticity of it all struck him in the heart.
He tried to continue reading his book, but he could not stop looking over at the way Mingjue smoothed gentle fingers over Baxia’s fur, the sunlight drenching his skin with gold. Xichen had never quite so strongly felt the urge to propose right there. But he had no ring.
Finding the ring was taking a far longer time than he had anticipated. Xichen had lost count of the number of shops he had dragged Wangji or Huaisang into. Even Huaisang had thought he was being too picky by the last shop they entered.
“Da ge will like anything you get him. He doesn’t need some flashy diamond, Xichen ge. Just get him a silver band like the one he got as your promise ring, and he’ll love it.”
That felt a little too much like cheating, but Xichen had an epiphany in the middle of the night. He had been lying awake, listening to the way Mingjue’s heart beat steadily away under his ear when it struck him. Mingjue had protested when he scrambled out of their comfortable nest of blankets, but after a feverish search at two am in the morning, Xichen managed to get a place that would engrave the patterns of his heart beating onto a plain silver band.
Perhaps it was a little presumptuous of him to assume that Mingjue would like to have his heartbeat close, but Xichen had confirmed the order about two days after, and now it was a waiting game.
“What are you thinking about?” Xichen blinked, startling when he found Mingjue inches away from his face, Baxia cradled in a position that looked highly uncomfortable. But the Maine Coon did not protest; she was like a puddle of goo in Mingjue’s arms.
“You,” he answered truthfully, delighting in the flush that spread across Mingjue’s cheeks. Mingjue rolled his eyes, settling onto the arm of Xichen’s chair. He lifted Baxia into his lap, the cat purring all the while he was manhandling her. Xichen ruffled her fur gently and she blinked sleepy eyes open to give him a warning meow.
Baxia tolerated him, which was more than could be said for any other person in the house. She would not go within ten feet of Huaisang, treated Wangji with the same disdain he treated other people and absolutely despised Wei Wuxian. She would claw his face off if he tried to pet her. Xichen suspected that was rather to do with him accidentally stepping on her tail one time. Baxia could hold a grudge.
Sometimes she would even allow Xichen to pet her, as she did when Mingjue hissed at her playfully, the Maine Coon sprawling over on her back to expose her white belly. She glared at Xichen, as if to warn him that he better be grateful he got to touch her at all, and Xichen laughed. He buried his fingers in the thick fur of her underbelly and rubbed. That got him a satisfied mrow.
“You looked like you were thinking hard,” Mingjue said, kissing the top of his head. He leaned his forehead against Xichen’s, pecking his cheek before rising. “I’m gonna get some tea. You want anything?”
“Hmm, iced green tea. Please put on a shirt before you go,” Xichen said with some satisfaction, pinching Mingjue’s side. “I don’t want other people seeing you like this.”
“Possessive.” Mingjue rolled his eyes, squeezing Xichen’s shoulder. Xichen watched him leave with warmth blooming in his chest. He managed to get in another two minutes of reading in before the doorbell rang, and he opened the door to see a courier.
His heart thumped in his chest, and he took the parcel with thanks, hands shaking when he opened it to reveal the blue velvet box that contained his heart. Or well, a representation of it anyway.
Don’t plan it, Wangji had said. Xichen was very inclined to follow his brother’s advice, as he had planned out his entire engagement plan and that had ended as a spectacular failure. Swallowing hard, Xichen tucked the box away into his pocket. And there it would stay for another two full weeks while he gathered up his courage.
Mingjue was cooking for a change, stir-frying tofu in nothing but his baggy sweatpants when Xichen entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes from his nap. Baxia was milling around his feet, meowing, and turning circles.
Xichen crouched and she came to him, meowing piteously. He ruffled her fur, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before side stepping around her to wrap his arms around Mingjue’s middle. He buried his face into the crook of his neck and yawned.
“Watcha making?” he mumbled, squeezing gently. Mingjue turned his head to kiss him on the cheek, lips curving into a smile.
“Tofu,” he said matter of factly, and Xichen glowered. “With long beans.”
Xichen inhaled deeply, before dropping his head back down.
“Bed was cold without you,” he whined.
“I can’t sleep anymore sweetheart, you know that. I won’t sleep at night,” Mingjue answered reasonably. “Besides, I wanted to make you dinner.”
Xichen grumbled something incoherent and unwound his arms from around Mingjue’s waist. He yawned again, sticking his hand into his pocket. The velvet box bumped into his hand, and he shifted, wondering if it would be appropriate to drop down onto one knee right then. Probably not. Mingjue might burn his long beans, and that would be a shame, as they really did smell amazing.
The doorbell rang before he could contemplate much further, and Xichen stepped away, padding off to answer the door. He missed the way Mingjue’s expression changed into a shifty look.
“Hello. Flowers for a… Lan Xichen?”
Xichen blinked, confused. He was certain he had not ordered flowers for himself. Slowly, he reached out and took the frankly massive bouquet in hand.
“Thank you,” he said, closing the door.
Mingjue was leaning in the kitchen doorway with a smile on his face when he turned around to look at him. He waved his spatula blithely.
“Flowers?” Xichen asked, suddenly feeling as if he was in his teens again. His heart was racing in his chest, butterflies bumping around in his stomach. Mingjue shrugged, his grin broadening.
“It’s been a while since I bought you flowers,” he said. “I hope I got them right.”
Xichen sniffed at the gardenias, his heart lifting immediately when he was transported back to his mother’s gardens at the smell. He took a deeper inhale, hugging the bouquet closer to him.
“You did,” he said happily. “Thank you, A-Jue.”
There was white cottony baby’s breath sitting amongst the sunshine flowers and the sight of them brought Xichen back to when they were young teens and living next door to each other. There had been a crop of baby’s breath growing from Mingjue’s garden that spread into Mama’s yard. Xichen routinely picked them for his mother’s vases until one day he caught sight of Nie Mingjue peering at him through the fence line.
“Do you like flowers?” Mingjue asked in a whispery voice. Xichen cocked his head.
“Why are you whispering?” he whispered back.
“My didi’s napping,” Mingjue said seriously. “I’m Nie Mingjue. What’s your name?”
“Lan Xichen,” Xichen answered. “I have a didi too. I’m sorry I’ve been stealing your flowers.”
Mingjue shrugged.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “Mama just lets them grow wild. Baba keeps telling her she needs to clip them back, but she insists they need their freedom.”
Xichen had laughed and stared fascinated at the dimple that appeared in Mingjue’s cheek.
“My heart.” Xichen looked up from admiring his flowers, stepping around the coffee table to kiss Mingjue on the cheek. “Do you remember when you caught me stealing flowers?”
Mingjue laughed, returning to his long beans.
“You were hardly stealing, A-Huan. They were growing into your mother’s yard.”
Xichen grinned, carefully setting the bouquet down to snap a picture. He pulled apart the ribbon, filling a vase up with water.
“They won’t last very long,” Mingjue said apologetically. “But whenever we move out into a proper house, I’ll plant you a garden full of gardenias.”
“You’re such a sap,” Xichen said, his treacherous heart lurching. He touched the box in his pocket again when Mingjue stepped up to kiss him sweetly, lingering a little longer. “You’ll burn your beans.”
“Yeah? I have something to ask,” Mingjue said, setting aside his spatula. He switched off the stove and curved his hands over the back of Xichen’s, stilling them when he reached to undo the wrappings of the flowers. Xichen raised his head, confused. “I know we talked about not getting married-.”
“I’m not opposed,” Xichen interrupted. Mingjue drew back, brows knitting. “I meant I’m not opposed to marrying you, A-Jue.”
Mingjue’s face softened further into relief, and Xichen relaxed into his arms. He dug a hand through his pocket, gripping the velvet box. This was hardly a perfect moment, but every moment with Mingjue was perfect anyway.
“Actually, I had something to ask you too,” he said, hoping his voice did not waver. He pulled out the box the same time Mingjue reached into his own pocket.
They both froze, staring at each other.
“Don’t you dare ruin this for me, Lan Huan. I’ve been planning this for weeks,” Mingjue said finally, breaking the silence. Xichen burst into laughter, tucking the box back into his pocket.
“Alright, alright,” he said, tears gathering in the back of his eyes. “You can go first.”
Mingjue scoffed and dropped to one knee. Even though he knew it was coming, the gesture still made Xichen’s heart skip a beat. He pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the urge to cry. He never thought he would be the type. He never thought he would ever be proposed to at all.
“Lan Huan, you are the love of my life. Will you do me the honour of allowing me to call you, my husband?”
Xichen burst into tears, unable to bite back the shaky sob that spilled out. He grabbed for Mingjue blindly, even as his boyfriend got to his feet, his body shaking with laughter.
“Oh, A-Huan.”
“I hate you,” Xichen blubbered. “I was gonna propose first.”
Mingjue only laughed harder, carding fingers through Xichen’s hair. He kissed him, and Xichen melted into his arms, shaking from the force of his emotions.
“You never answered me,” Mingjue murmured against his lips. “Will you marry me, Lan Huan?”
“Yes,” Xichen whispered back, clinging when Mingjue tried to pull away to put the ring on. “Of course, I will.”
Mingjue gently wrestled himself free, lifting the silver band from the little emerald cushion. The ring slid onto Xichen’s finger, cool and smooth, except for a line of ridges that Xichen could feel against his skin.
“What is that?” he asked, holding his hand up. Mingjue blinked, mouth falling open.
“Right.” He tugged it off gently, showing Xichen the inside of the ring. Xichen laughed again, this time almost a little hysterical.
For etched onto the silver band was a very recognizable zig-zag print of a heartbeat.
“I got Wen Qing to take my pulse and got it engraved- why are you laughing?” Mingjue asked, confused as Xichen pulled out his own ring, sinking down onto one knee. His mouth dropped open when Xichen cracked open the box, revealing the exact same ring, except with his own heartbeat engraved into the inside of the silver band.
“Oh.”
“I don’t have a speech,” Xichen confessed. “You prepared a whole script and I-.”
“Baby, it’s okay,” Mingjue said, his hand trembling when he cupped Xichen’s cheek. “Just ask me.”
Xichen inhaled sharply, raising his head to meet Mingjue’s eyes.
“I love you, Nie Mingjue. Will you marry me?”
Mingjue’s eyes filled with tears, and he hauled Xichen to his feet, wrapping him up in a bear hug. Xichen laughed even as he squeezed Mingjue back, burying his face into Mingjue’s shoulder.
“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice was rough.
“I’ve already proposed to you,” Mingjue whined. “Of course, I will, silly A-Huan.”
Xichen kissed him again, so hard that he snatched the breath out of Mingjue’s lungs. His hands were shaking so badly when he slid the ring onto his finger that he nearly dropped it.
“We’re both such messes,” Mingjue proclaimed once they were done fumbling with their engagement rings. “We’re gonna look back on this and laugh over it at our wedding.”
Xichen’s eyes widened.
“Mingjue, you didn’t,” he gasped when Mingjue strode over to the stove and lifted out his phone. His phone that had been recording the entire time. “Nie Mingjue, I was ugly crying.”
“There’s nothing ugly about you, my love,” Mingjue said, hitting the stop button for the camera. He kissed Xichen’s forehead, and then his hand, where the ring sat proudly. “I can’t wait to marry you.”