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"I believe it'd be a lot easier if you voiced out your feelings, Xichen."
Xichen moves his gaze from the purple figure in the distance to Nie Mingjue standing next to him.
"Nonsense," he says with a gentle smile. "It might get even more complicated."
Mingjue crosses his arms over his chest and sighs.
"Or it might work out. Have you considered this option?"
"Hmm, it did not work out with you," Xichen reminds him as if the past defines the future; sometimes beliefs of the Lan sect seem too strongly set into his personal opinions and thoughts.
"I don't like men," Mingjue says. Then, with a sudden tilt of his chin, he points to Jiang Wanyin donned in purple robes as if Xichen is not already following him with eyes. "But I'm rather sure he does. Or at least you have picked his interest. I see the way he looks at you, and it is the same way you used to look at me all those years ago, and it is the same way you look at him as well."
Xichen contemplates his friend's words for a few moments.
"Why does he not act on it?" he finally asks.
Nie Mingjue snorts at him.
"Why don't you?"
-
Xichen could not find an answer to Mingjue's question and has hidden behind the empty explanations of fear and embarrassment, however, when he asks the same question himself, his mind starts working differently, trying to come up with the actual explanation, especially given the right timing.
He does not expect to come across Jiang Wanyin on his evening stroll before bed. The night is young and the air is filled with the crispness of early autumn trying to push the summer aside (yet still not succeeding), and the paths of Lotus Pier lead Xichen to the inviting murmur of the river. A lone figure happens to be there as well, standing on the old, once started and never finished bridge, his hands clasped at the back as he watches the sky, seemingly deep in thought.
Xichen's chest swells with emotions, and as overwhelmed he plans to escape without being noticed (after stealing another glance), Mingjue's question rings in his ears again, and he finally realises that there is not a single thing that should or could stop him from voicing everything out. There is no fear and no embarrassment, not when the person occupying his every thought is well worthy of the feelings he evokes.
And thus, Xichen steps forward, joining the purple figure on the wooden boards as he wishes for the moon's guidance.
"Forgive me for disturbing the night’s tranquillity."
Jiang Wanyin barely tilts his head; in the darkness his features are sharp and they match his low voice but, strangely, they do not match his words.
"Your pleasant presence is the opposite of disturbance, Lan Xichen. It is always welcome."
There's an undeniable softness that his words hold, the rounded edges that Xichen has never seen Jiang Wanyin bother to use while talking to any other cultivators. He's always there cutting and slashing, be it with words or with weapons, not ever trying to remember the existence of wooden swords for games and fun. No one could blame Xichen that a moment like this ends up feeling a bit like a fever dream; anyone else would suspect reality being altered by spells.
Xichen decides to pursue it.
He walks up closer to Jiang Wanyin, and he lowers his guard.
"Can you hear my heart?" he suddenly asks into the night. For some reason, it feels like the most fitting way to confess his feelings.
There's a little furrow to Wanyin's eyebrow as he concentrates on the senses.
"Yes," he finally says. "Is… everything alright?"
Xichen touches his own chest, feeling the quickened pace. It seems like Wanyin needs a little push, voiced out words that would bind everything together. Xichen gives him that.
"It beats for you, Jiang Wanyin."
When Xichen looks at him, Wanyin's eyes are widened, but there's no fear or anger in them, and soon after the amusement settles in. Lightly, he laughs.
"You are full of surprises, Lan Xichen," he says, his voice still carrying the laughter within. Xichen likes it a lot.
"I rarely see you laugh," he notes, watching the usually cloudy face with eyebrows drawn together to transform in front of him.
"I must admit, it is because I rarely do," Wanyin replies and with a little huff, he sits down right there on the wooden boards. Carefully, he lays his robe out next to himself. "Please, join me."
It's not how Xichen has imagined this going, but it is going, it is moving forward, and Xichen follows along. He gathers his own robes and settles down; a tiny shadow of guilt and embarrassment of using another sect leader's robe as an underlay shows up on his cheeks and at the same time escapes his lips in a soft apology which Jiang Wanyin does not regard in any way. He simply lies down and looks up at the sky.
"Nothing to say..?" Xichen asks after a few moments of silence pass. His question, or perhaps the funny note in his voice, brings a tiny beam to Wanyin's face.
"Oh, it's coming," he says, simply.
"It is coming?"
Jiang Wanyin doesn't answer. He gestures for Xichen to lie down as well, and confused again as to where exactly this all is leading, Xichen complies.
The sky is wondrous, clear and deep, hiding the secrets of thousands, including Xichen himself, and watching over the world. It's ethereal, the eyes of the gods.
"All of the problems seem to cease to exist," Wanyin suddenly says in no more than a hush, "for a moment, when I look into the sky."
Now it's Xichen who stays silent, eager to hear if this goes any further, if the thoughts whirling inside Wanyin's mind dare to materialize into the words. He looks serious, he looks like someone who has spent many hours, maybe too many, watching the abyss atop his head and trying to figure out the mysterious ways of the world. Xichen wants to comfort him.
"There are countless stars up there," Wanyin goes on, "each with a story, each with the joys and grieves that we mostly know nothing about, except for the tales the gods gifted us with. And it makes me wonder," Wanyin tilts his head to look at Xichen, with the stars he speaks of in his eyes, with the night sky in his hair and moon on his cheeks, and–
"Wonder about what?"
Wanyin smiles at him, albeit bitterly this time, and Xichen's heart starts yearning for something unknown hiding within this man.
"Wonder about how we create problems which should not be there," Wanyin says. "Wonder why don't we sometimes do what we want to do, afraid of opinions of those who don't even concern us, who are only strangers with loud voices ready to lash out on everyone and anyone." He takes a deep breath, the weight of which settles over Xichen’s mind. He starts thinking how tired Wanyin must feel a lot of the time, both physically and mentally. Yet, before it can devour either of them, with a sigh at least for now it all seems to go away. The distant stars flicker in the sky.
Wanyin adds, "Perhaps more often we should simply do what we want to do."
Xichen's heart starts beating faster again. He does not bother to slow it down with spiritual energy, or to shield it away. Wanyin knows, he already knows, and if Xichen's intuition is any good, he might be trying to convey the very same feelings himself.
"And what do you want to do, Jiang Wanyin?"
"I want to start with this."
Xichen expects to hear Wanyin's heartbeat as well, to get what he has given himself, he expects courteous words and yearning gaze, or the complete opposite – firm words and undeniable phrases that leave no room for doubt, but what he gets is not entirely that.
He gets not what he has expected but what he has wished and hoped for.
He gets Wanyin leaning over him, his eyes full not only of yearning but of lust and passion, and it shouldn't surprise him, Wanyin has always been a man of actions rather than words, but it does; after all, dreams rarely mix so well with reality.
Wanyin sinks lower, propping himself up on arms framing Xichen from both sides, and without a moment's hesitation, he kisses Xichen. His lips are softer than Xichen has dreamt and he kisses slow, matching the melody of the river beside. And yet, the eagerness wins over, and it makes Xichen want to pull Wanyin even closer, to make sure it's not a dream that he wakes up from with empty hands. He starts by touching Wanyin’s waist and fluttering his fingers up to his chest. The trail is followed by swallowed chuckles, and somehow that fills Xichen with so much joy that he’s the one who actually laughs, breaking the kiss altogether.
"You're ticklish," Xichen observes and to prove his words, he lets his fingers dance up and down Wanyin's ribs. Just like with guqin , the movements bring out a melody again, this time a barely suppressed laughter. In a moment of weakness, Xichen pursues it, which makes Wanyin lose balance and land atop him.
"Forgive me," Wanyin says, “though this was not entirely fair.” He’s smiling as he holds himself just a little bit up again, even when embarrassment colours his face. "I pray I did not overstep," he adds, no more than a whisper into the night.
Xichen gives him a look. Like this, Xichen doesn't even need to listen to Wanyin's heartbeat – he feels it under his touch and like a well put music score, it matches Xichen's own beat.
"I pray you did this long ago," he says, and he hears Wanyin's laugh again.
"For a long while I doubted you felt the same," Wanyin explains and with a little sigh, he moves away to lie back down, closer to Xichen this time. "The world seems a lot more lonely when you look at the stars alone."
"You would have kept it to yourself if I had not joined you tonight?" Xichen wonders aloud.
Wanyin smiles at the sky.
"We'll never know."
"You're full of secrets, Jiang Wanyin," Xichen says as he looks up at the sky as well. It is still wondrous, still deep and dark, and now, it keeps one secret more than moments ago.
"One by one, I will share them with you," Wanyin breathes, and Xichen repeats the words in his head, directing them at the sky.
"Is that a promise?" he then asks.
Wanyin glances at him.
"It is a vow."
Xichen takes a deep breath and he reaches for Wanyin's hand. He brings it to his lips and he plants a kiss on Wanyin's fingers, and another, immediately after.
"Then I shall be by your side to hear them all," he whispers. Wanyin squeezes his hand tighter. With the stars as their witness, he says,
"I count on it."
---
“You’re a lucky man, Sandu-Shengshou,” Nie Mingjue says when Jiang Wanyin joins his side after escaping other cultivators congratulating him and trying to gain his favour.
He’s watching his friend stand a little bit further away, talking to his uncle and juniors from the Lan sect. He seems happy, he seems ethereal, and the moment Wanyin’s eyes land on him, Xichen returns the gaze. Immediately, he smiles.
His eyes match the gold ornaments in his hair, and they shine brighter than ever framed by dark locks and red robes. The gold ornaments of clouds and waves grace Wanyin’s hair as well, and clothed in red robes himself, he cannot help but smile.
“I am,” Wanyin tells Mingjue. “I truly am.”
He glances up at the sky full of stars and hums, full of content.
He’s just wed the brightest one of them all.