Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian is in his living room near the front door as though he just came into his apartment though he doesn’t remember coming in. He feels a bit floaty and things look a bit hazy and blurry. He thinks that this isn’t quite right but can’t remember how or why.
He wanders into the apartment and realizes Jiang Cheng should be here too. Where is that sour grape? Oh, there he is. He’s on the couch. Wei Wuxian decides he’s satisfied with knowing that and meanders past Jiang Cheng and down the hall to his room. Jiang Cheng doesn’t pay him any attention, so he doesn’t pay him any either. The hallway to his room seems to lengthen as he attempts to reach his room. The walk feels longer than normal. He doesn’t think too much about why that is. He probably wouldn’t want to know anyway.
Once he reaches his room, he leans against the door frame and then rests his head there as well. Yeah, this is good. He’ll just stay here for a minute.
When he opens his eyes, his gaze floats and fixates on his bed. His bed. Ohhhh, his bed. His wonderful bed. It’s always there for him. His best support in life. He wants to lie down. He’s pretty sure his body decided the best way about that was to just shuffle over there and collapse face first onto the mattress. He thinks that’s how he came to be here. He feels a little out of it. He turns over and stares at the ceiling.
His head actually clears some. He can see his room better now, though the edges are still foggy. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there for anymore, but he decides it’s been long enough. He’s got to get up and get moving at some point. He thinks. Does he have to be anywhere right now? He can’t remember.
He gets the sense that the door to his apartment has been opened and closed. He thinks he heard the door.
He decides to go see if someone left or came.
He trudges back to the living room and kitchen open space. The walk seems miraculously and unfamiliarly short. Was the couch facing that direction earlier? Is there more than one couch now? Huh. Cool.
He looks over to the entry area and sees Lan Zhan standing awkwardly there. Oh, Lan Zhan. He really is beautiful. Tall, handsome, gorgeous Lan Zhan just standing there, all god-like and transcendent. Standing there. Staring at him. With those eyes. Wow, those eyes. Wei Wuxian knows the color of those eyes. He knows them by heart. But right now he can’t tell what they are. Maybe they change color. That would be cool. He should research that later.
Wei Wuxian doesn’t have the brain capacity to acknowledge that he on some level has noticed that Jiang Cheng is no longer there, and yet he knows he’s not. He doesn’t wonder when he must’ve left. But he knows Lan Zhan and he are the only ones in this apartment. If he had more energy maybe he’d wonder how he knows that so confidently.
Lan Zhan continues to stand there looking at him, and Wei Wuxian realizes suddenly that he is also standing silently watching Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian loves to look at him though. He’s beautiful. He’s dressed in white, as he usually is. But his hair is braided and falling in front of a shoulder, and Wei Wuxian notices with a pang in his chest that it’s tied off with Wei Wuxian’s red scrunchie. He so desperately wants to move closer, to maybe tease Lan Zhan, maybe tug on his braid or his sleeve. To somehow touch and be close to his Lan-er-gege.
The distance between the two of them feels vast. Extravagant. He doesn’t know how to reach Lan Zhan from where he is, so far away. It feels like there must be a canyon of some kind dividing the room. He would swim an ocean for Lan Zhan though, so he tries. But though he tries with all his might, his feet are glued to the floor. He distantly thinks Jiang Cheng must be at fault. Some kind of fly paper trap for a prank. He doesn’t know how he managed it, but he’s sure it’s Jiang Cheng’s fault. That makes the most sense.
All he can do is stare. But Lan Zhan, oh, Lan Zhan, his lips quirk. And with that, Wei Wuxian feels a sunburst of happiness in his lungs. He can’t help but grin at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan must know how badly he wants to reach him. He hopes that Lan Zhan finds it endearing and not desperate. Though maybe it’s both. Jiang Cheng would probably make fun of him if he was here. Thank god he’s not.
Why is Wei Wuxian thinking of his brother now when he could be thinking of Lan Zhan??
Lan Zhan takes a step forward, and suddenly they are in front of each other. Wei Wuxian doesn’t even feel dizzy anymore. It’s like everything is crystal clear again. Well, no, it’s not actually. Just Lan Zhan is. But that’s okay. Wei Ying didn’t want to look anywhere else anyway.
Wei Wuxian can’t help but smile madly. Just Lan Zhan being there in front of him makes him feel like he could conquer the world, raise the dead, something impossible. Lan Zhan’s ears start to turn red. Wei Ying coos.
Lan Zhan speaks, and oh what a sound. “Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying sucks in a harsh breath, but it gives no relief. Maybe he’s a ghost. No need for breathing then. Maybe that would explain the floaty feeling he has.
Lan Zhan takes another inch towards Wei Wuxian. “Wei Ying…I…Wei Ying. I like you. Very much. Would you…? Do you like me too?”
Wei Wuxian can barely contain himself. The happiness he feels is fluttering in his stomach, his blood pounding through his chest up to his head; he can hear it in his ears. There’s a rush of excitement, adrenaline, dopamine, something. It makes his head feel all the clearer and all the more heady all at once.
He bounces twice on his toes and wants to launch himself at Lan Zhan.
Actually, why can’t he?
With a cry of “Lan Zhan!” he’s there in the next heartbeat. He’s there, in Lan Zhan’s arms, being lifted, carried, ensnared, treasured, protected, lighter than air. Wei Wuxian’s never felt so real, so tangible, so known, so loved. Lan Zhan has never felt so solid, so physical, so touchable. Wei Wuxian has never felt so warm, and Lan Zhan has never looked at him quite so adoringly. The two are probably related.
Wei Wuxian wants to kiss him. So terribly deeply wants.
It’s like Lan Zhan can read his mind. He sets him down on the floor once more, so heart wrenchingly gently, and cups his cheek, caresses it, combs his fingers through his unruly hair. Lan Zhan finally brings his gaze directly to meet Wei Ying’s own, and it’s so direct, so loving, so heated, Wei Ying feels he might burst into flames then and there. And then Lan Zhan leans in.
Suddenly there’s a rabbit thudding around in an enclosure in the corner of the living room. Was that there earlier? Did they go over to Lan Zhan’s apartment? Where is he?
****
Wei Wuxian rolls over and blinks at his ceiling. Jiang Cheng is knocking on his bedroom door and shouting that he’s going to go buy coffee and danishes for them before they have to meet up with the gang later and he better be awake and up by the time he gets back.
Wei Wuxian’s entire existence does not immediately snap into place. He’s still living in the memory of that hazy warmth and sunshine glowy feeling he had mere seconds ago.
He smiles at the ceiling. Lan Zhan and he confessed. Finally! They kissed! They! …And just like that, his existence bounces and reverberates and vibrates itself into something now unfamiliar. What is truth? What happened? What is reality?
Wei Wuxian’s fluttery floaty happiness shakes, and with it so does his core. His hope. His reality. He checks his phone. What day is it? Oh, it’s Saturday. He fell asleep early last night and slept for at least ten hours because he stayed up the night before studying for a final.
Oh.
His dream really was a dream. His stomach is churning cement.
It didn’t happen.
Lan Zhan doesn’t like him.
He didn’t have a magical out of the blue, perfect, happy, oh too easy, too good to be true confession-and-get-together rom-com moment.
He’s…He’s still alone.
Still pining for his best friend who will probably never look at him twice.
He’s…He’s…Everything he’s wanted for years was at his fingertips, but it was only a dream.
His reality still feels shaky.
The sudden dysphoria of waking from his every hope and dream coming true and then not being real shocks his system. It’s waking up to ice water thrown on his face. A knife twisting in his gut.
His stomach aches. His chest feels tight. And before he knows it, he’s curling into himself and burying his head in his pillow to muffle his sobs. He’s glad Jiang Cheng has already gone. He can’t pretend that everything is okay, because he feels like someone just gave him a bright shining sunbeam and then tripped him over a cliff. And he’s not sure he can explain the gut-wrenching anguish he’s experiencing right now and why.
He cries.
He sobs.
Loudly. Despite the pillow.
His body shudders with the knife-like heaving breaths.
He knows he’ll have to get up and wash his face and try to hide the evidence of balling his eyes out before Jiang Cheng gets back, but he just can’t get a grip on himself enough to do so. Not yet.
It takes a while, and when he checks his phone for a second time, he thinks maybe a good twenty minutes or so have gone by. He feels slightly more adjusted to the world of the living again.
Maybe now he can go get himself ready for the study session with his friends, and maybe his face doesn’t look too bad and no one will know he cried.
He hopes.
Maybe he should cancel. He’s not sure he can face Lan Zhan so soon after both the dream of him but also the rude awakening immediately following. Too many emotions are warring within him. Maybe he can fake being sick. No, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t buy that.
This is fine. It’ll be fine. He’s fine. Everything can be normal. He just needs a minute. And to take a breath. Shaky. But deep. Ouch. Okay, yeah, breathing in real life is a lot more effective than in dreams. He just. Needs to take a handful more of those, and everything will be okay. He breathes again. And again. He wants to cry again. He holds his breath. It’s fine.
He’s fine. Not like he’s heartbroken or anything.
It’s fine. Lan Zhan won’t notice anything’s wrong. It’s all good! All good!