Chapter Text
The things that Lan Wangji loves most are rules. They guide him through his 24 hour shifts, methodical cleaning, fast dispatches, careful assessment before diving into a situation. He knows the equipment, their uses, and their locations by heart. He knows his schedule, as consistent as it can get in firefighting at least, and he knows his station inside out.
He also knows what makes everyone tick. They’re governed by a different set of rules, ones that Lan Wangji sometimes disapproves of, but they know how to do their jobs well and they’re reliable and sturdy when a situation is not.
His brother once met them, tall and collected in front of the rowdy bunch of them. Lan Xichen seemed more amused than anything as Lan Wangji had worried silently, and everyone shook his hand with a little less fear than they would have dared approach Lan Wangji with.
He’d left to use the bathroom at one point, and stopped just for a moment outside the door to listen before returning.
“He’s good under pressure,” he hears Nie Huaisang say, and then a quiet chorus of agreement. “We respect him a lot.”
“And Huaisang is scared of him,” Song Lan adds, teasing just a little.
“Song Lan,” Huaisang whines. “Even you don’t dare bother him when he’s meditating after dinner.”
Lan Wangji stares at the wall. He hadn’t lied to his brother. He doesn’t lie. But he knows his brother worries that he doesn’t have friends, worries that Lan Wangji is lonely.
He isn’t lonely. He likes his alone time, and he gets along well enough with everyone else, but he’s perfectly content with his life, with reading and learning new things on his off days and then back to work where he’s saving lives and helping people.
His uncle approved of his choice. His brother had asked if he was doing this because he thought it was the right thing to do or if he genuinely wanted to do it. Lan Wangji isn’t sure how to answer that one.
They’d made their way out after a few minutes, lingering in front of the station close enough for Lan Wangji to hear any alarms.
“They’re quite the crowd,” Lan Xichen had said, smiling. “They seem to admire you.”
Lan Wangji had offered a small nod. He knew from the first day he stepped foot into the fire station that they would welcome him, that he would respect them and they would respect him, in turn. Lan Wangji doesn’t often get close to people, but working in such situations has brought him closer to them than he ever would’ve been outside of it.
On one night when he couldn’t sleep, after they’d lost someone to a fire, and he’d stared at the ceiling, dread and regret and guilt poisoning his stomach, he thought about his brother’s question.
He wondered if he chose firefighting so he could chase the closeness he has with them now, something he didn’t have before, people he can rely on to be there when he needs someone other than him so he knows he isn’t alone. When he’d finally gotten up, too restless to remain in bed, he found Wen Ning in the kitchen, slumped over a little, and Lan Wangji, for the first time in a long time, was soothed by the sight of someone else. He didn’t betray this in any way, but he made two eggs for the both of them and they ate together, slowly but surely, before they departed to bed. And in the morning, when Lan Wangji woke up at exactly 7 am like he does every day, Wen Ning didn’t say anything, but there was something that changed from that day on, if only because Wen Ning still sometimes chooses to sit next to him when usually no one would.
“Wangji,” his brother said after, when they were standing outside, close enough to hear the alarms but out of earshot of the crew checking the engine. “Are you lonely here?”
Lan Wangji doesn’t lie. “No,” and his brother departed, only the slight furrow between his brows giving away any sort of concern.
Not lonely, he might have said if asked again. Just alone.
He knows some would consider this some sort of prison, but it allows him clarity and focus. And also means he can spend time with Bichen, a sweet, very small white furred rabbit that loves to be held. Lan Wangji isn’t sure if this is exclusive to him, but he’s the only one who visits and Bichen seems to recognize him when they watch things together, most often nature documentaries.
His shift is 24 hours in the station, then 48 hours at home to rest and relax. He maintains his schedule no matter where he is, bed at 10 pm and waking at 7 am. In the station his sleep gets disrupted most nights, so he takes naps to make up for it, but his schedule is still fairly consistent. After all, there’s a comfort in rigidity.
His uncle certainly thinks so, and he raised both him and his brother with such a value. They both respect it, but Lan Xichen urges him to loosen up sometimes, just a little. Go make friends. Meet someone who challenges you.
Lan Wangji doesn’t see the need.
So he remains in his house with Bichen and when he’s not maintaining his strength or endurance, he learns calligraphy and knitting, takes up a book on South Asian history, reads up on emergency training for work, and learns to cook so many meals he’d probably be set for the next two years.
What the rest of the firefighters learn is he’s good in any situation they can think of. He’s always calm under pressure, has a good grasp on general information, and always has an idea of what to do when the unexpected happens. They’re all trained for that, of course, but sometimes something small goes awry and Lan Wangji always seems to be the one they turn to.
He knows they wonder if it’s a matter of pride with him. It isn’t. He just thinks one should always be prepared, and if that means he can better do his job, that’s all he can strive for.
Lan Wangji wakes up at 7. He changes his clothes, brushes his teeth, and eats breakfast, his duffel bag already packed. He leaves his house at 7:25, perfectly timed for his ten minute walk to the station. The summer weather is dense today, humidity clinging to his skin but brushed away by a gentle breeze every few seconds. His long hair is pulled into a low bun, neat and tightly kept to keep it out of the way, and he arrives at the station at 7:35 sharp.
The leaving shift always greets him respectfully and briefs him on the events over the past day. He learns there was a car accident, someone who fell down a steep hillside, and a few other small incidents that Lan Wangji mulls over as the rest of his shift arrive and they switch out.
“I’ll take the bathroom,” Song Lan says as he passes by Lan Wangji, to which he nods, and they all split up to clean and check all the equipment.
Lan Wangji has a habit of finishing first though somehow still thorough so he joins Huaisang outside, who’s already checked most of the engine and is now running an inventory on equipment. “Lan Wangji, could you check the med kits?” he asks when Lan Wangji walks up, to which he gets a nod as usual.
Everything’s working fine this morning, the hot sun the only bother. There’s a fine layer of sweat over their brows when they finish up and meet together to plan for the day.
Xiao Xingchen, their company officer, is standing at the center of the room, conversing with someone Lan Wangji’s never seen before.
His dark hair is long, up in a similar bun as Lan Wangji but a little messier. The corners of his eyes look like they’re smiling and his posture is relaxed as he chats and jokes. Xiao Xingchen seems charmed, soft heart apparent as he listens to this mystery stranger say something funny, enough to startle a real laugh out of him, more than the normal huff he gives.
He won’t be laughing in a second once they’re in their meeting and briefing. When Xiao Xingchen is doing business he’s serious, and only Song Lan seems capable of easing him, which is ironic considering normally Song Lan’s serious exterior.
“Who’s that?” Huaisang whispers to Song Lan when they’ve settled.
“I don’t know,” comes the reply, and Lan Wangji stares at the stranger.
“Everyone ready?” Xiao Xingchen asks, surveying the room. “On to business then.” They run through the motions as the man watches with apparent interest, and Lan Wangji focuses on the words being spoken rather than the stranger. They’re being told about a tour running today in the station, and about halfway through, Lan Wangji senses eyes on him.
He ignores them.
“Before we get into training for today,” Xiao Xingchen says, “I’d like to introduce Wei Wuxian.”
Lan Wangji‘s eyes slide over, unsurprised that this Wei Wuxian is looking right at him. He has a bad feeling about this, but he maintains eye contact, only blinking until Wei Wuxian turns his eyes away with a smile at everyone in the room.
“He’ll be joining our company starting today,” Xiao Xingchen announces, and Wei Wuxian gives a small wave.
“Nice to meet you all,” he says, voice clear with an edge of humor underneath. The bad feeling worsens.
“Go have a seat,” Xiao Xingchen says, and terribly, he ends up in a seat right next to Lan Wangji. Their lesson today is about ventilation because of a call they had a few days ago. Lan Wangji happens to have refreshed on the topic since then, but he still listens carefully.
He does not pay any attention to Wei Wuxian, who seems to be falling asleep, head nodding and then catching himself and turning his eyes to his peers.
It’s quite shameful, and Lan Wangji can’t help but doubt that this Wei Wuxian can even do his job correctly. Firefighting is serious business, not a place to mess around, and everything from Wei Wuxian’s playful voice to the messiness of his hair indicates that maybe he won’t be a good one.
Lan Wangji gives him a week. He also feels eyes on him. He ignores it again.
Five minutes pass.
“Hey.”
Lan Wangji pretends he doesn’t hear it.
“Psst.”
Xiao Xingchen is talking about flashover.
“Can I borrow your pen?” Wei Wuxian whispers. Lan Wangji would rather not acknowledge him, but he won’t be so rude as to deny a direct request. He’s not using the pen anyway, just listening, so he looks down at it, and Wei Wuxian seems to take this as a permission of sorts.
He reaches out.
Lan Wangji holds it out, and Wei Wuxian’s fingers briefly brush his as he takes it, sending little sparks through Lan Wangji’s skin.
It startles him enough that he freezes for a moment longer than he normally would, and then he moves his hands to his lap and resumes listening, not distracted at all by the sight of Wei Wuxian scribbling something on his sheet.
“Here,” Wei Wuxian whispers, handing back the pen. Their fingers don’t brush this time. “Thanks,” he adds on, offering a grin that speaks of the devil and all things humorous.
Lan Wangji only looks at him for a moment, and then he turns away.
Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem phased. The rest of the company had the first time they met him, before they learned that was just how he was. There’s no need to speak most of the time anyway, and a simple look is often enough acknowledgment.
But Wei Wuxian doesn’t even blink, though Lan Wangji owes it to his impropriety. He wonders if Wei Wuxian remembers anything Xiao Xingchen has said, and he also wonders if Wei Wuxian knows anything about respect.
His conclusion to the second is no because Wei Wuxian folds the paper he scribbled on into an origami crane, surprisingly neat but considering it’s made of paper with useful information on it, feels disrespectful.
Wei Wuxian even dares to look around for something like approval, grinning when he catches Lan Wangji’s eye. Lan Wangji glares and then resolves not to give him any attention if that’s what he seeks, and the meeting adjourns with Xiao Xingchen reminding them of a few things before ushering them off to work.
The room breaks out into chatter as they disperse, and Lan Wangji remains in his seat a moment longer, just to assess the rest of them. Everyone is alert and cheery today, probably because of the clear skies today, but not sluggish despite the humidity. They filter out of the room slowly, laughing and still rowdy in the morning.
“Xiao Xingchen!” Wei Wuxian says, scrambling up when he tries to leave. Xiao Xingchen pauses mid step. Lan Wangji watches him go, wondering what he has to say, but he gets up himself too as if it doesn’t matter.
I am not paying attention to him, he tells himself sternly, the others already out the door.
But as he steps out, he discovers the answer to his first question.
“You were talking about flashover…” he overhears Wei Wuxian say, and then Lan Wangji is out of earshot, left wondering how Wei Wuxian was paying attention at that particular moment if he was whispering to Lan Wangji.
-
Somehow, they don’t run into each other the whole day. The usual company dinner together is interrupted by a few calls that split them all up, and Lan Wangji doesn’t know where Wei Wuxian ends up until some of them are eating and he and Wen Ning walk in side by side.
Lan Wangji is getting up by the time they sit down, and he resolutely ignores the way he can feel Wei Wuxian’s eyes trailing after him even as he cleans his dishes and escapes to finish up paperwork. He’s sitting at his desk, filling out the papers methodically, when he sees a pair of boots appear in the doorway out of the corner of his eye.
He doesn’t look up. Wei Wuxian, because he knows it’s him, waits all of ten seconds before clearing his throat.
Lan Wangji starts filling out the next section.
“I wanted to say thank you for letting me borrow your pen earlier,” Wei Wuxian says despite the lack of response. “And ask your name.”
Lan Wangji pauses. He thinks about it for a second before-
“Lan Wangji,” he says.
“Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian repeats. It sounds familiar in his mouth, though Lan Wangji knows he’s never uttered it before. “Well,” he says, tilting his head in a nod, “thank you for letting me borrow your pen.”
“Mm.”
Wei Wuxian waits a moment. For what, Lan Wangji isn’t quite sure. “You can call me Wei Ying.”
Lan Wangji finally looks up, perplexed. “We don’t know each other.”
Wei Wuxian shrugs. “We could,” is all he says, smiling a little, and Lan Wangji doesn’t know what to do with it. Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem phased again, and Lan Wangji is unsure if he just has thick skin or if he simply doesn’t care, if he isn’t afraid or he’s used to being overly familiar with strangers. “Don’t be like that,” Wei Wuxian scolds as he looks at him, and Lan Wangji has half a mind to protest, though he’s not sure to what. “Let’s be friends, Lan Wangji. That isn’t your birth name, is it? That’s what they all call you,” he says, inclining his head out the door. “But they all seem a little afraid of you too.”
Lan Wangji just looks at him.
“Are you really that scary?” Wei Wuxian asks in a lowered voice, smiling tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You don’t seem that scary.”
He talks a lot, Lan Wangji thinks. “Not scary,” he corrects, but he thinks maybe it would be better for Wei Wuxian to think that of him.
“They respect you,” Wei Wuxian nods, and Lan Wangji wonders how he can know that. “Wen Ning was telling me how much they all look up to you,” he says as he walks further in to sit on the edge of the desk, almost sitting on the paperwork. Lan Wangji’s brows furrow a little. “Don’t be like that,” Wei Wuxian says again, still smiling. “What would happen if I sit on this paper?” He points at the sheet Lan Wangji is filling out.
“You would get ink on your pants,” Lan Wangji answers seriously, and Wei Wuxian laughs.
His laugh is nice, soft and low, unlike his breath of a laugh he let out earlier when he seemed unconcerned with their lesson. It’s almost… pretty, and Wei Wuxian does look pleasing to the eye, happiness etched into the lines of his face, smile never seeming to fade.
Lan Wangji has a very bad feeling about this.
“Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian says, feigning a serious expression. “What’s your birth name?”
And Lan Wangji, who disapproves of this new man, who doesn’t like breaking rules and thinks disrespect is unacceptable, who doesn’t have close friends and who spends most of his free time with his rabbit, opens his mouth and says, “Lan Zhan.”
Wei Wuxian’s smile lights up his face. “Lan Zhan,” he repeats.
Lan Wangji looks at the mischievous grin on Wei Wuxian’s face, and he knows that everything is going to change.