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The front door opened and closed as it always did, loudly enough that Lan Zhan could hear the lock turn before anyone entered, but far earlier than he had expected.
He sat up straight and put aside his supplies; sure enough, it was only a few moments before Wei Ying came into the room, Wen Ning only a pace behind him.
"What's the matter?" Lan Zhan didn't ask, because it was a silly question to ask when everyone in the household was disabled.
Wei Ying limped to the bed and threw himself facedown, almost on top of Lan Zhan's legs, just far enough that he couldn't comfortably reach over and touch his hair.
Lan Zhan raised a questioning eyebrow at Wen Ning, who grimaced.
"Calf cramp," Wei Ying bit out to the area near Lan Zhan's left foot. Lan Zhan wiggled his toes to get him to move up, clenching his jaw as the bed shook with Wei Ying's wriggling.
"Which one?" he asked.
"Left," Wei Ying told the bedsheet by his elbow.
The bed dipped again when Wen Ning sat down, hand on Wei Ying's back—Lan Zhan didn't like having his back touched, not where it truly hurt, but Wen Ning's hands were large and always just a little bit too cold, always settling like they'd never been anywhere else and would always belong right where they were.
Lan Zhan braced his hands on the mattress and wiggled closer to the foot of the bed.
He squeezed Wen Ning's hand in greeting—there was a reason they'd come home, exhaustion on Wei Ying's part and needless guilt on Wen Ning's that he couldn't alleviate the pain—then Wei Ying's where it lay near his head.
"Let me," he said.
Wei Ying's leg was bent at the knee, his foot wiggling back and forth and his toes clenching and unclenching in a bid to chase away the cramp. Lan Zhan reached for his calf and squeezed.
Ah. There is was. Wen Ning had the fine motor coordination for this only on his best days, and Wei Ying always whined that he couldn't get a good angle to massage himself—which wasn't incorrect.
"It will hurt," he warned, working into the muscle as Wen Ning kept Wei Ying in place, petting his back and shoulders and butt.
Lan Zhan kept in a smile and hoped that it would be his turn next.
"Ow," Wei Ying said after a minute, voice tired and grumpy and matter-of-fact all at once.
"Better?"
"Bruised." His voice changed as if he was turning his head, then he gave Lan Zhan's thigh a firm poke in reproach.
Lan Zhan hummed. He wouldn't be able to continue this for much longer; his hands had more dexterity than his boyfriends', but there was only so much time he could spend on a singular task without a spasm or catch in his back. Then he would need help, too, and where would that leave Wei Ying?
He'd resigned himself to a lazy day in bed for two reasons: he'd woken up feeling too bad to drag himself to the living room and not bad enough to write the day off. He'd brushed his teeth, grabbed his laptop, and shoved an extra pillow under his knees and behind his back when he sat up in bed to do some work.
That had quickly devolved into looking at bunny pictures, which devolved into looking at the photos Wei Ying and Wen Ning had taken over a year ago of them holding the tiniest bunnies their university could afford, which evolved into several rounds of sudoku to take his mind off not being able to adopt any.
Several hours into the morning, both of his boyfriends off to class before he'd gotten up, Lan Zhan shuffled to the bathroom and kitchen. They'd left him two glasses of water and some cut-up fruit, but a lazy day necessitated cookies.
Cookies acquired, Lan Zhan had returned to bed. He had washed down the cookies with some water and painkillers to make up for aggravating his spine walking, and had taken a quick nap between staring at empty documents attempting to be productive.
Realizing, only after that, that no work would get done, Lan Zhan had pushed himself to lie on his side and scrolled through a novel he was reading. He'd rested his eyes for another half-hour, felt well enough to rebraid his hair, and grabbed a coloring book from the bedside table—Wen Ning kept them to practice his fine motor skills—and the colored pencils Wei Ying had bought for him.
He had woken from a third nap and resumed the coloring in an awkward sideways position just in time for his boyfriends to return.
Lan Zhan found the central knot in Wei Ying's calf and dug in deep.
"Why does this always help?" Wei Ying bit out between clenched teeth.
Lan Zhan understood medicine as far as it extended to their bodies, and no further. Something about muscles and movement and pressure. Thankfully, Wei Ying didn't need an actual answer; he was just bitching.
Wei Ying let out a particularly pathetic sigh.
Lan Zhan, focused, saw Wen Ning pat Wei Ying's cheek from the corner of his eye; then Wen Ning bent and pressed a kiss there and Lan Zhan once more wished it was his turn next.
"You're gonna make me into a puddle, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying mumbled. "I'm just gonna — ploop. Puddle boyfriend. Gonna stay here in bed and sleep forever and you're gonna cuddle me to keep me alive."
"Nonsense," Lan Zhan said, as he was expected. He'd cuddle Wei Ying as needed and as wanted, but now, a muscle under his shoulder blade sent a stabbing pain down his arm and he let go of Wei Ying's leg with a final pat, scouring the bed with his eyes for an extra blanket to keep the muscle warm.
Wen Ning sent him a worried, questioning look; Wei Ying mumbled about puddles some more.
"Better?" Lan Zhan asked.
Wei Ying mumbled an affirmative.
Wen Ning leaned over and fulfilled the wish of a kiss. Lan Zhan leaned into the touch, raising the arm that wasn't hurting to cup Wen Ning's jaw. After a moment, Wei Ying pressed his hand against his knee and it was close enough that Lan Zhan could hold it with his free hand without tugging at his shoulder.
"Should stay just like this," Wei Ying said.
"I can't for longer," Lan Zhan said.
"Help?" Wen Ning asked. They were no longer kissing, but Wen Ning's hand was still on his ribcage and Lan Zhan never wanted him to let go.
He shook his head; he just needed to shift back to the pillows and support his torso.
"Let's do a lazy day, then," Wei Ying said.
Lan Zhan didn't mention that it had already been his plan. He patted Wei Ying's hand reassuringly. "Let's."
Wen Ning stood. "How were the cookies?"
"Delicious." Lan Zhan mourned his touch and the new distance. He pouted up and received a kiss for the trouble. "They're still left." Not quite a sentence, but good enough. He added, "Thank you," for good measure, because Wen Ning had made them.
He got another kiss, then Wen Ning turned. He would return with the cookies, and plenty to drink for them all, and an extra blanket, and probably something else. That would take several trips, but he never complained. Lan Zhan settled himself down gingerly and winced when Wei Ying shifted into a more comfortable position and the pillows were jostled.
"Sorry."
Lan Zhan shook his head. Wei Ying was too far away to kiss, but he linked their hands once more. There was no avoiding movement.
Wei Ying sounded tired. Lan Zhan felt tired, too—it was midafternoon and Wen Ning was coming back with cookies. After that, another nap sounded like the perfect idea, especially with his boyfriends at his side.