Chapter Text
It was a nice apartment. “Street trash” may have been something Meng Yao would have called the residents here, but his opinion stopped mattering on any of Mingjue’s decisions the day his affair came to light and got caught fucking Su Mingshan in their bed. But while his opinions didn’t matter, Mingjue still struggled getting his ex’s little comments out of his ear; it was hardly an impoverished area. Good schools, local dog parks, thriving restaurants, a bit out of the way from his own business. The building itself was well built; code-access gates, CCTV and a live-in manager at the front desk prevented unwanted guests from entering, and he didn’t have to worry about leaks or rats. Everything about it felt far more comfortably lived-in than that ostentatious penthouse Meng Yao had insisted they keep.
Even now, he still can’t believe he didn’t see that tape worm for what he was. How much time had he spent letting the man crawl under his skin dictating his life, only to have to painfully tear him out and burn everything they shared? Huaisang had looked at him like a big brother. A-Huan had approved of the match. None of them could see any evil lurking behind those big eyes and that soft smile.
Mingjue enjoyed the dark wood of the building. He liked the soft green walls and grey kitchen cabinets. He couldn’t even complain about Formica countertops. Meng Yao would have called them cheap. Mingjue liked that liquid didn’t soak into it when he was washing dishes or cooking. No need to worry about stains or re-sealing to “keep up appearances”. The space was large enough for everything he needed, and pet-friendly enough for Baxia, his adopted “mutt” who looked more like a blue staffy crossed with a boxer than anything else in her supposed heritage, not that he was going to complain about getting around ridiculous “dangerous breed” rules due to a technicality.
Unlike Meng Yao, Baxia had few needs except space, walks, and presently, more dog food. MIngjue was locking up his apartment when he felt a something thunk into his leg.
“A-Ling!” a woman’s voice called. Mingjue looked down to see a mop of black hair clinging to his jeans just below his knee. “Can I help you?” Mingjue asked the mop, who was promptly scooped up by a short woman in a light purple (“Lavender, Mingjue, really” The Meng Yao in his mind’s eye scolded) pantsuit. Her hair was pulled up into a slightly-less than perfect bun. Her suit coat creased under the weight of her toddler and a diaper bag Mingjue was certain he might struggle with.
“A-Ling! You can not run off like that.” The woman said to the boy before looking up at Mingjue, “I’m so sorry! He doesn’t usually… you must think we’re terribly rude, him running into you like that. I’m so sorry.”
“No harm done.” Mingjue told her, “Although,” he looked at the boy—A-Ling—and said in a soft, steady tone, “You should make sure not to run away from your mother. She might get lost without you. And then what would she do?”
A-Lings little brown eyes went wide, “Mommy can get lost?” he asked.
“Mmhm,” Mingjue nodded, “She needs you to look after her. You need to keep an eye on mommies so they don’t get lost.”
“I look out for mommy!” The boy declared and smashed his face into her collar.
“Thank you.” The woman said, shifting her child more comfortably on her hip. “I wish I had known that trick!” she mouthed just over her son’s head.
“Ah,” Mingjue said, “I helped raise my brother. Old habits.” He shrugged. “I take it you live here?” he asked, finally finished with locking the door and stuffing his keys into his pocket.
“Just a few doors over.” She agreed. “Jiang Yanli.
“Nie Mingjue,” he told her, “And who’s this?”
“My son, A-Ling.” She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ll run into you again, just maybe not so literally next time?”
“Of course,” he motioned toward the elevator and continued on his way.
“I’ll call you back.” Mingjue grunts. “Da-geeee” His brother whines into his ear, and he whispers back, “Someone’s knocking.”
“But Da-ge. Nobody should be able to—”
“I’ll call you back.” He said and up on Huaisang. He can feel his phone vibrating through his pants pocket as he heads to the door, “Who is it?”
“Jiang Yanli.” Her voice is slightly muffled through the layer of wood, but she sounds somehow more anxious than the last time he’d seen her.
Mingjue opens the door, “Yes?”
“I’m so sorry!” She says, “My father collapsed and I need to go to the hospital. I can’t get a hold of a sitter and my brothers are out of town. I hate to ask, but would you be able to watch A-Ling for a few hours? I’ll leave you all my contact information! He’s toilet trained. I’ll give him a snack; you won’t have to feed him.” Her face is desperate and pale, “I swear I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”
Her hair’s a mess, knocked in every direction by the over-sized sweater she’d thrown on inside-out over her jeans and slippers. “Yes.” He tells her, calls over his shoulder, “Baxia, stay.” And follows her into the hall.
“You have a dog? A-Ling loves dogs.” She rambles as they moveback into her home, gathering things into a large tote bag, “If you need to walk yours, A-ling can walk! Or his stroller.” She motions to the thing as she steps through the door. “Here, give me your phone.” He hands her the device and accepts the spare key she hands him. Watches her type, then hears a ringtone that isn't his go off and knows she's called herself. “He doesn’t have any allergies. He’s toilet trained. He’s shy sometimes, but he’s really a sweet boy. The remote is on the coffee table if either of you wants to watch anything. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Thank you so much, Mingjue. A-Ling,” She turns in her rush, crouches down to the boy’s level, “Baby, do you remember Mr. Nie? He’s going to watch you for a little while. I need you to be good and listen to him, Okay? Call me if there’s an emergency. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I love you.” She presses a kiss to the boy's forehead, “Be my good boy, okay?”
“Okay, momma,” he nods, “love you.”
“I love you, too” She squishes him into a hug then stands back up. “Thank you so much for this, Mingjue.” She says, face still tight with tension as she slips into outside shoes.
“Of course,” he tells her, puts a hand on her shoulder, “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Take a breath. Slow down and get there safely. Your father will only worry if something happens to you while you’re trying to get to him.”
She inhales, shudders out a breath, “Thank you. I owe you.” And she slips out the front door.
A-Ling looks up at him. “Hi” Mingjue says, after a long pause adds, “I hear you like dogs”
“Her name is Baxia.” Mingjue told him and showed A-Ling how to stick the back of his hand out gently for her to sniff. Baxia had licked the kid’s face and he giggled. Now the pair were running and waddling respectively through the complex’s fenced-in yard, Baxia circled back around any time she got too far ahead of A-Ling. Mingjue reassured his baby brother that it was alright, he didn’t need to call the cops or file a restraining order. At least not today.
A-Ling squeals as Baxia dances around him, barks for his attention and waggles her tail. It’s been a long time since Mingjue’s been around a toddler; he was a few years old enough to be responsible for his brother at times. He’s certainly hasn’t changed a diaper since he helped Xichen with his cousins a year or two ago. This is nice, he thinks. He tosses a bright orange ball for Baxia, helps A-Ling to throw it as well. He counts to ten with A-Ling a few times as Baxia fetches.
They count all the elevator buttons and push for their floor. A-Ling sings the ABCs as Mingjue pulls food out of the fridge. He pauses between bites and Mingjue prompts him to not speak with his mouth full. After lunch the kid introduces him to a small army of stuffed animals and toy cars. They build block towers and play with Baxia. They pull out a play kitchen set sometime a few hours later, and Mingjue helps A-Ling “bake” a “cake” until the pizza he orders arrives. He cuts it into dime-sized cubes and grabs a glass of milk and water each for them, dices some fruit for dessert.
It’s getting dark out. They’re fine. Jiang Yanli hasn’t called or texted yet. They run Baxia outside again. He finds some crayons and some paper, pops in a brightly colored cartoon.
The sky is well-past dark when the door clicks open. Jiang Yanli is greeted with the sight of a 70-pound dog curled around her toddler, both dozing softly, and a large man scrubbing dishes at her sink.
“Oh, please. You don’t have to do all that!” Mingjue hears, her voice soft, just audible over the faucet splashing.
“Too late,” He matches her tone, “I’m nearly finished.”
“How was he?” She asks.
“He was great.” He smiles, “Baxia really enjoyed having someone who could keep up with her.” He looks at Yanli; she seems tired, somehow both more put together and disheveled than when she left. “Have you eaten?”
“No.” She admits.
“Good. There’s pizza in the fridge— just cheese. Simple flavors and all.” He remembers learning that babies needed to be introduced to new foods slowly after he tried to share his lunch with his fresh infant brother and ended up making Huaisang throw up. His brother was now a healthy young man and a foodie at that, but Mingjue never forgot the panic that shot through him when his perfect baby brother projectile vomited curry at the walls, or his stepmother’s kind smile when she ruffled his hair and calmed Huaisang. They’d cleaned up together, his step-mom making him sit and hold Huaisang after he was clean and help bottle feed him. She steam rolled over his anxiety at messing things up. “He’ll forgive you. He’s your brother. And you’re just looking out for him”, she had said. “He’s lucky to have a kind big brother who wants to help take care of him and share like that.” He rinses out a coffee mug and hangs it off the drying rack.
“Thank you for feeding him. I didn’t think I’d be out that long.” He hears her opening and closing things, hears the beeping of numbers and whirring of the microwave. He rinses a coffee mug.
“Hospitals are rarely a quick visit.” He tells her, hears her hum. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s recovering.” She lets out a breath, “It was a heart attack. Too much stress.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Aspirin and reducing stress helps.” He says, thinking about his own father’s last hospital stays. He hears a puff of a laugh as she mutters, “Not while he’s married to my mom…” he’s not sure he’s meant to hear it, so he changes the topic. He turns off the faucet, leans against the sink and asks her, “Are you going to take A-Ling with you tomorrow?”
“No,” she pulls the pizza from the microwave and sits at the table, “I’m not going tomorrow.”
“You don’t want to visit? If your dad’s awake, I’m sure he’d love to see you both.” He says. He doesn’t miss the cringe she hides behind a bite of pizza. He busies himself with getting her a glass of water.
“My mother doesn’t want us there.” She admits, “I was only allowed to stay as long as I did because someone needed to manage and she was out of town on meetings.”
“Sounds complicated.” he gets her eye contact and tells her, “Look you don’t have to tell me anything. But I’ll listen to anything you feel comfortable sharing.”
Yanli motions to the chair across her. “My mother doesn’t approve of me.” She admits softly, “She…was probably warmer to me than to anyone else until I found out about A-Ling. She disowned me.” She glances at the couch, makes sure her son’s still asleep before saying, “She called me disgraceful, having a child with no husband. She wanted me to marry him... She was livid that paternity was called into question. I’ve only ever slept with one man, but when has that ever been enough to get anyone to trust a woman about her own body?”
“That sounds like a lot to deal with.” He admits. “It’s hard enough to be a single parent without the unjustified judgement.”
“He’s worth it.” She tells him, holds his gaze as if daring him to question or pity her.
“My dad was a single parent until he met my step-mom. After he died, she was a single mom; then her VISA got revoked and she was deported until the government got things sorted out. They took their time with citizenship after getting married, then dad got sick and, well I ended up caring for my brother for a few years.” He admits. “There’s nothing to judge. Even if there was, I couldn't.”
“You’re a good brother.” She tells him.
“And you’re a good mom.” He fires right back, “It’s not easy on your own. But that doesn’t mean you don’t give him your best.”
“I’m not completely alone. My brothers help out as much as they can.” She says, “I don’t know where I’d be without them.”
He recalls seeing bodies coming in and out of her apartment. He’s never made any assumptions to the nature of their visits, but the knowledge slots into place. “I’m glad you have their support.” He looks at his dog curled up around the kid they’d spent the day with. “I don’t mean to overstep, but I wouldn’t mind spending time with A-Ling again if there’s an emergency or you need a break. He’s a good kid. Baxia could use the extra exercise.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” She says.
“I should get going.” He stands up, “I hope your father’s condition improves quickly.”
“I’ll see you out.” She follows him to the couch as he collects his dog. Baxia sulks at him very loudly with her face but makes no noises, reluctantly slides off couch, careful not to jostle A-Ling. She nuzzles her face into his arm before she follows MIngjue to the door. “Thank you, for today.” Yanli tells him.
“You’re welcome.” He says back. “Have a good night.”
The next time Jiang Yanli knocks on his door, she’s holding a crock of soup. “For the other day.” She tells him. “I really don’t know what I would have done. Thank you.”
“You really didn’t have to.” He tells her.
“I insist.” She tells him, presses the container into his hands.
“It was really nothi—”
“Are you going to stand here and argue with me or are you going to move out of the way so I can set this down?” Her face brooks no room for challenge. “Good, now step aside.”
She sweeps past him and finds a space on his countertop for it. “There.” She turns around, hand brushing over Baxia’s head as the dog circles her knees. “Do you have any food allergies? Anything you can’t eat? You’re not vegetarian? Are you alright with spices?”
‘A little odd to ask after you’ve already bullied me into taking it,’ he thought and said instead, “I eat just about anything.”
He watches her relax and realizes she'd been worried, “Oh good.” She says, “I tried to make it a little more mild than usual; last time I made this soup I found out my brother-in-law was vegetarian and has terrible acid reflux. My A-Xian wouldn’t stop laughing, knew the whole time no shame or sympathy for not telling me!”
“That’s exactly something my brother would do.” He sights, ghost of a headache curling around his brain, “Never lets on to anything so he can laugh about it behind his fans.” He shakes his head, “Thank you for the soup. I’m sure it will be delicious.”
“Thank you for all of your help with A-Ling.” She smiles, “He hasn’t stopped talking about Baxia….or counting everything, singing his ABC’s. You really made an impression on him.”
“He’s bright kid.” He shrugs, “It was refreshing to spend time with someone as excitable as Baxia.”
“I really can’t thank you enough.” She starts and he holds up a hand to pause her.
“Don’t you get dizzy spinning in these polite little circles?” He tells her, ” I would have done this for anyone. I know how rough it can be...and I’ve had a weird couple of months. It’s been nice to get out of my routine. It was nice getting to know the both of you. I haven’t thought much about making friends since I moved.” He tells her.
Her smile is warm and welcoming. “Then we’ll just have to trouble you in the future.”
“See that you do.” He nods, “I’ll do the same.”
It’s several months later when Mingjue sees an awkward man standing in front of Jiang Yanli’s apartment, hand half raised but hesitant to go in. Tall, longer hair. He hasn’t judged her; has seen the angry man who comes twice a week, has heard the boisterous laughter as another silhouette keys into the doorframe for an instant. He knows her ex is a horribly awkward person, he assumes he knows where they live though Yanli has said he’s never been there.
He isn’t going to do anything. It’s not his place to intrude. He’s going to see Xichen, doesn’t want to be late when the man shows up chronically twenty minutes early. But he can’t help brushing a little too close past the man on the way to the elevator. The man startles, turning towards Mingjue and revealing himself.
“Mingjue-ge.” The man says and he’s never been easy to read, but the slightly rushed way in which his name came out and complete lack of change in facial expression screams to a specific horror Mingjue has spent most of his life trying to decipher from a different face.
“Wangji?!” He chokes out, betrayal punching deep below Mingjue’s diaphragm. Wangji is VERY gay and certainly cannot be capable of having a child only to abandon him? He’s adopting, for Gods’ sake!
“Mingjue-da-ge!” another voice shouts as a body drapes itself around Wangji’s shoulders and back. “What are you doing here?” The new man beams. He drops something into Wangji’s hand and Mingjue watches as his best friend’s baby brother’s ears turn bright red when their fingers brush, face unmoving.
“Wei Ying.” He greet and motions down the hall, “I live here.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes widen, “You’re my Jie-jie’s neighbor?” he whips his head around, somehow managing to make eye contact with Wangji from his position plastered to the man’s back, “Er-gege did you know? Why didn’t you tell me.”
“Mn.” Lan Wangji hums.
“Lan Zhan!” His best friend’s brother’s husband whines, absolutely pouting. “Huaisang didn’t tell me anything either! You’re both the worst!” His friend’s brother’s husband, who is also Mingjue’s little brother’s best friend, looks like he’s about to cry with his bottom lip jutting far away from his face.
“Wei Ying.” Wangji says.
“Husband!” Wei Ying yells, somehow also turning bright red.
“A-Xian, what’s all this noise outside my door?” Jiang Yanli’s door opens and her hand sticks out, tugging gently on her brother’s ear. “Is my A-Xian throwing a tantrum so early in the evening?”
“Jie-jie!” the man unlatches from Lan Wangji and octopuses onto Mingjue’s neighbor. “Your a-Xian is only three! He doesn’t know any better without Jiejie to guide him.”
“Oh no. If my A-Xian is misbehaving, then he can’t help me with dinner.” She sighs. “I’ll have to ask Wangji-di-di to help instead.”
“This a-Xian will be good!” the grown man says.
“Of course my A-Xian will.” Jiang Yanli pats Wei Wuxian’s face lightly. “Wangji-didi.” She smiles warmly.
“Yanli-Jie” Wangji greets.
“Oh! Nie Mingjue! Have you all met each other?” She asks.
“Small world.” Mingjue shrugs
“Jie-jie! Jie-jie! Mingjue-Da-ge is Huaisang-Da-ge.” Wei Wuxian supplies, “Him and Xichen-ge go way back!”
“Oh?” Jiang Yanli says and Wangji nods. “Then I may owe you some gratitude for taking care of this one,” She pokes Wei Ying’s nose with one finger, “for so long and never letting him get into as much trouble as he should have.”
“Jie-Jiieeee.” Wei Ying whines.
She grins and pokes her brother in the nose. He wrinkles his face and grins up at her. “Go on inside, A-Ling is in his room.”
“Nephew!” Wei Ying yells and slips into the apartment.
“Mingjue-ge.” Wangji says, bows his head. “Wangji” he says back, watches Wangji wait for Jiang Yanli to step aside so he can follow his husband. It strikes Mingjue that Wangji has always followed after Wei Wuxian, that it was silly of him to think even for a moment that he’d somehow been connected to abandoning Jiang Yanli and Jin Ling.
“I never would have guessed you’re “a-Xian” was Wei Ying.” He admits. “But with the way he talks about you, it makes sense…but I am a little disappointed you don’t have wings. He claims you’re actually an angel."
“Flatterer, that one. I’m perfectly human and he knows it. Somehow, I’m not surprised that you’re A-Sang’s “Da-ge”. You seem exactly the sort to bully someone into making good life choices.” Her eyes are laughing at him. “Although I can’t imagine why he’s so scared of you. You’re all bark and no bite when it comes to kids.”
“Don’t tell Huaisang that.” He grumbles, “Gotta keep up appearances or he’ll just do whatever he wants.”
“I’m sure he does that anyway.” Jiang Yanli says.
“Yes, but the more he thinks I’ll yell at him, the less smug he is about it.” Mingjue says.
“A-Jie! A-Jie! If you don’t come in soon. I’ll start cooking by myself and then we’ll all starve to death!” Wei Ying says, popping back into the doorway and stooping so that his sister can look down at his overly-pitiful expression.
“I could never let my A-Ying starve to death!” She tells him very seriously, turns back to Mingjue to tell him, “It was nice running into you. Sorry to keep you.”
“I’ll see you around.” Mingjue tells her, sees Wei Ying’s arm wrap around his sister and pull her in behind him.
“Say hi to Xichen-ge for us!” Follows Mingjue down the hall as he fails to not look like he’s running away. Absolutely refuses to hear the ghost of a voice in his ear admonishing him for running from anything at all.
It’s a rare sight when Xichen spits out his drink, “You thought he was---"
“Yes.”
“You really thought he could have—”
“I couldn’t see his face!”
“Wangji—”
“Xichen!”
“You thought Wangji abandoned some woman and his son for Wei Wuxian!” Lan Xichen manages to spit out between choking on his laughter “I can’t wait to tell him about this! Wuxian-didi’s never going to let you live this down! Oh, my face hurts!”
“Be reasonable, Xichen! It was an honest mistake! How was I to know he wasn’t—! He was just standing there and I didn’t recognize him! He looked so –so painfully awkward—”
“Well now that does sound like Wangji.” Xichen’s lips twitch.
“—that it was a perfectly reasonable assumption to make!” Mingjue crosses his arms.
“Perfectly.” Lan Xichen grins. “Wangji’s face has screamed a great many things but “Absentee Asshole Baby-Daddy” is truly something I couldn’t see coming. I wonder how Wuxian-di will feel about this? They’re about to sign adoption papers. Do you think knowing he looks like he’s already an absentee father will change the way Wuxian-di looks at Wangji?”
“As if anything could change the way that man looks at your brother. I’d like to bleach my brain and eyeballs so I can forget the way those two are together.” Mingjue grouses into his beer, “Nobody should be capable of even remotely sexual thoughts around your uncle.”
Xichen’s smile cracks his face so wide that Mingjue would give him shit for it if he didn’t subscribe to his own brand of over-indulgent older brother affection. He looks good like this. Pleasure has always suited Xichen. Both Lan brothers were always beautiful in an untouchable sort of way, like identical museum pieces behind a velvet rope with security stationed nearby to remind you not to trip over the exhibits, not to breathe too close. Xichen looks most alive when he laughs like this. Almost human. Lan Qiren would hate it. Mingjue kind of wants to snap a picture.
Once, when they were very drunk, Xichen had turned to him and said “You know, we could get married. No, no, hear me out. We could get married and be very content to cuddle platonically on our shared couch and retreat to our separate bedrooms with our chosen guests for the night. We would be excellent companions if we were married. It would be good. Healthy, even. But we both deserve more than that, don’t we?”
Mingjue’s dearest friend rarely spoke about his childhood outside of therapy. Mingjue hadn’t pushed as long as he knew Xichen had someone to figure it out with. But even he wasn’t dense enough to miss the rigid set of Xichen’s jaw, to remember the date, so he swallowed his pride and said “Well, in thirty years if we haven’t found anyone else, I guess I can put up with your knife-elbows, in my ribs every night.” And bumped his shoulder against Xichen’s. They do deserve to be happy. Xichen was made to be loved.
“Do you know anything about gardening?” Mingjue asks A-Ling. The toddler’s face is set so seriously as he nods his head. “Mommy has to-may-toes” he squeaks out carefiully, thinks really hard then adds, “Peppa Pigs!”
“Peppers, sweetie” Yanli tells him. She whispers so only Mingjue can hear, “If I have to fucking hear that behemoth British pig one more time…”
“Tomatoes and peppers, huh? That’s exciting. Do you help your mom take care of them?” MIngjue asks A-Ling.
A-Ling gives several very large nods, his chin tucking into his chest and curling back out. “Mmmmhm!”
“That’s very impressive! I’ll bet you’re a lot of help! Can I show you how to take care of my plants?” Mingjue asks. A-Ling agrees. His attention tracks as Mingjue holds up the watering can and folds his larger hands over A-Ling’s tiny ones, He waddles off while Mingjue is reminding Yanli to add an ice cube to the bottom of his basil’s water dish. “Six years of trying before I finally read the instructions. This one’s made it six months. I’d be sad to see it go. Thank you for agreeing to this.”
“Of course.” Yanli smiles, “It’s nice to be able to help you out for a change. I hope you have a good trip! You deserve a break.”
“I’m not sure how much of a break it’ll be.” He scrubs a hand over his face briefly. A-Ling it now trying to sit on Baxia’s back like she’s a horse. She isn’t having it. It’s terribly cute. “I can’t remember the last time I traveled and it wasn’t for business.”
Yanli hummed. “Try to find some time to yourself while you’re at it, then. Everyone needs a chance to recharge.”
“I’ll get this one a souvenir.” He tells her. “Gives me an excuse to get out of the hotel room.”
“I’m sure he’ll love anything you bring him.” Yanli tells him.
“And what about you?”
“You really don’t have to get me anything.”
“I always get A-Sang, Xichen, and my cousin something when I travel. I really won’t go and explore otherwise. And it’s…nice having people to share with.” A-Yao always scolded him for buying to people’s tastes; would discreetly discard anything under an “acceptable” perceived budget, and when they traveled together, would drag Mingjue to every high-end boutique and designer label in the city hand-curating extravagant and detailed gifts to accent people’s lives.
“Surprise me, then.” She tells him and the fog of memory clears, “Cooking spices or any convenient local foods, anything I can eat or cook with. Except sweets. If you get me sweets, this one will want them all before I have the chance to try.”
“No sweets then.” He agrees and makes plans to find something sweet that travels easy so they can all share it for dessert when he returns. It’s the first time he’s had a reason to look forward to coming home other than missing his routine and the three people he cares about. Then, new friends don’t crop up every day, he supposes.
“We’ll see you when you get back.” She smiles.