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Some things are better left unsaid.
Lan Qiren knows this. There are at least a dozen rules on the Wall of Discipline that forbid speaking in excess, and Lan Qiren has always striven to follow the tenets of his clan unfailingly. It is for this reason that by the time Lan Qiren does finally give voice to the concerns he has been harboring, he fears it may already be too late.
The date is not random. In fact, the date on which said event occurs is tantamount to the problem itself. Lan Xichen returns to the hanshi later than usual—which, it must be said, has become the new usual for him—and immediately begins preparing tea for Lan Qiren, who has been holding a book under the guise of reading for hours while really thinking long and hard about what he may or may not say.
Within minutes Lan Xichen settles himself at the low table opposite his uncle and pours them each a steaming cup of oolong. Lan Qiren drinks his first cup while asking his nephew probing questions about his day. He grows increasingly frustrated by Lan Xichen’s distracted one-word answers. The expansion of the library pavillion initially began as a passion project of Lan Xichen’s. Lan Qiren hoped that breaking ground last week would have finally lifted Lan Xichen’s spirits, but if anything they have worsened considerably.
Today may be the darkest day yet.
Lan Qiren makes the conscious decision to stop talking and the conversation lapses into silence. Opposite him, Lan Xichen’s tea sits untouched, his slim, graceful hands resting in his lap. His expression is alarming. Lan Qiren would understand if his nephew appeared troubled or angry or sad. Instead Lan Xichen appears vacant in a way that Lan Qiren hasn’t seen since his seclusion and it terrifies him down to his very core.
“You know I…” Lan Qiren falters briefly, but now that he’s started there’s no turning back. “...care for you. Right?”
Lan Xichen looks up at his uncle and for the first time in days it feels as if he’s truly there, present in the moment rather than lost in thought. “Of course, Shufu. I’ve known it all my life.”
Lan Qiren grimaces. It’s obvious he wasn’t clear enough. The care he’s referring to now is different from the care he’d felt for his nephew when he was just a boy, different even from the care he’d felt for him a decade ago when Lan Xichen had first confessed his feelings to Lan Qiren.
Lan Qiren thinks about how he might rephrase as he clenches his fists on his knees.
“You were my brother’s son. The future clan leader. It was my duty to bring you up properly as a disciple. It was not my duty to move into your house.” The house where now, more often than not, they sleep together—sleep and nothing more because Lan Qiren is still navigating what it means to no longer be a bachelor after 50-odd-years, what it means to truly reciprocate his nephew’s feelings. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Slowly, uncertainly, Lan Xichen nods his head. “I think so.”
That’s not good enough. There can be no room for ambiguity here, not when so much is at stake.
“I’m telling you that I have grown accustomed to spending my life with you,” Lan Qiren says gruffly. “Waking up with you each morning, having tea together, falling asleep beside you. If anything were to upset that routine—a repeat of last year for instance—I would be most displeased.”
“Oh .” Lan Xichen’s lips part in surprise. After a few seconds he leans forward, a hand outstretched over the table. His long sleeve threatens to upset the cold cup of tea. “Shufu, I assure you you have nothing to worry about.”
“Do I? Because lately your behavior would indicate otherwise.” Lan Qiren ticks off his nephew’s offenses on his fingers. “Leaving food on your plate, sleeping early and rising late, spending excessive time alone.” It’s that more than anything that concerns Lan Qiren, that Lan Xichen would prefer to seclude himself in his anguish than burden anyone else with it. Lan Qiren steels himself for the final blow and delivers it as carefully and succinctly as he can. “You know you can always talk to me, A-huan. About anything. Even him.”
Him.
Jin Guangyao.
The man Lan Qiren had pushed his nephew toward. The man Lan Qiren had convinced himself was a better match for Lan Xichen than Lan Qiren himself, Lan Xichen’s own flesh and blood. Not a day goes by that Lan Qiren doesn’t ruminate over what a disaster that turned out to be and regret his part in it. If he had only accepted Lan Xichen when he’d first confessed, if he had looked past his own stubbornness and recognized the intimacy in their companionship, the depth of affection he felt for him even then…
But no. He can’t think like that. There is much to be grateful for in the here and now and that was Lan Qiren’s purpose for speaking up in the first place.
At the mention of Jin Guangyao Lan Xichen withdraws his hand and tucks it back into his lap. He suddenly looks very small, head bowed and eyes closed as if he could block out the memories that have been plaguing him for a year now. When he finally looks back up at Lan Qiren his expression is pained, an echo of the agony Lan Qiren saw on his face when he exited his seclusion six months ago.
“I didn’t think anyone would remember.”
Lan Qiren wants to scoff. As if anyone could forget. Lan Qiren has been dreading this anniversary for months, keeping a watchful eye on his nephew for the exact signs he’s been displaying. He thought he was prepared for the chance that Lan Xichen would backslide.
He wasn’t.
“I have been thinking about A-yao lately,” Lan Xichen continues. “I feel…many emotions when I think about him and everything else that transpired at that time. The guilt weighs heavily on my heart and there is so much that I wish I could go back and change. But,” and Lan Xichen flicks his eyes back up to his uncle, suddenly firm, “I want to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. I have no plans on secluding myself again. I know how much it hurt you and Wangji and I would never put you through that unless it were absolutely necessary.”
Lan Qiren narrows his eyes. “And are you certain it’s not necessary now?”
“Quite certain.”
A long moment transpires during which the pair of them attempt to break the other with the intensity of their eye contact. In the end it is Lan Xichen that loses and he stands and comes around the table to kneel beside his uncle.
“I know I must have worried you greatly these past few weeks. My behavior has been undisciplined to say the least, and I'm ashamed to know it was obvious enough to attract your attention. I thought I was doing an adequate job of keeping my struggles private, but I wasn't. Please accept my most humble apologies and rest assured that I am not going anywhere. And..." Lan Xichen raises his arms in a bow, dark hair falling over his face like a shroud. "I submit myself for punishment as Shufu sees fit.”
“Tch!” Unbelievable! Lan Qiren swats his nephew's elbows impatiently until he rises back up. “Foolish child. You dare to ask for a punishment now? On this day of all days? I should be comforting you, not having you whipped.” He's exaggerating slightly. The minor infractions Lan Xichen has made in recent weeks amount to copying lines at most, but Lan Qiren's point still stands. For four decades it has been his duty to protect and guide Lan Xichen as an uncle, a surrogate father, a teacher and a mentor. Even if Lan Xichen is no longer the clan leader, Lan Qiren has no intention of shirking that responsibility now. How could he face himself each morning if he answered Lan Xichen's cry for help with violence?
“Of course Shufu is right.” Lan Xichen inclines his head respectfully, forehead slightly pinched. He appears to deliberate for a long moment afterward, weighing a decision in his mind until finally he comes right out and asks, "Then…can I hold you?”
And just like that Lan Qiren’s heart begins to palpitate like that of a much younger man. It's not the first time Lan Xichen has asked such a thing of him. He was a cuddly child and an affectionate teenager, and there have been times in recent years when Lan Xichen requested comfort in the form of an embrace. But it's been a long time. Truthfully, Lan Qiren suspects that repeatedly being denied instilled a sense of defeat in Lan Xichen and he began to ask for such things less and less. Now, in Lan Xichen’s hour of need, Lan Qiren can’t bring himself to deny his nephew anything.
“You may.” Lan Qiren’s voice shakes only slightly on the words, said with as much decorum and grace as he can muster.
Lan Xichen blinks. Undoubtedly he was expecting to be rebuffed as usual and was not prepared to handle an answer in the affirmative. After a few seconds of hesitation, he shakes himself out of it and advances forward as if his uncle were an animal that might startle at any moment. His arms enfold Lan Qiren at the same time that Lan Qiren reaches for him and they wind up pressed together, not quite chest-to-chest. It’s warm. Familiar. Sensual in a way it probably isn’t supposed to be, but Lan Qiren can’t help the way Lan Xichen has begun to make him feel. Lan Xichen sighs against Lan Qiren’s neck and squeezes his arms around him and Lan Qiren tentatively returns the pressure, memorizing the size and shape and feel of the body in his arms.
They linger like that for a long time. Minutes, Lan Qiren thinks. Maybe five. Lan Qiren can tell when some of the walls Lan Xichen has built around his emotions begin to break down because suddenly his breaths are wet and fast, his grip on Lan Qiren’s torso tight enough to bruise. Lan Qiren patiently waits for his breathing to calm again, and only when it does does he begin to withdraw, slowly sliding his arms out from around Lan Xichen’s back.
He doesn’t make it far. Lan Xichen stops him when their faces are only centimeters apart, his jaw angled to look at his uncle. Lan Qiren sees tears clinging to Lan Xichen’s eyelashes, a red nose, pink cheeks, and soft parted lips.
They lean for each other at the same moment until their lips brush, feather-light and tentative. Then they draw back until their breaths mingle and their noses touch.
“Shufu.”
Lan Qiren doesn’t so much hear the word as feel it whispered against his lips. They kiss again softly, and then again and again. This time there is heat and pressure and salt and tongue. There are hands on Lan Qiren's face and fingers on his throat, tracing his collar bone and trembling against his pulse. Lan Qiren digs his fingers hard into the fabric of Lan Xichen's robes, clinging on as they careen toward an unknown that terrifies and excites him in equal measure.
Then it disappears at once as Lan Xichen rips himself away with a low moan.
“I can’t.” His fists are white-knuckled against his knees, expression anguished. “I can’t. Not like this.”
Lan Qiren gapes at him as the saliva on his mouth turns cold. His lips are still tingling with the memory of his first-ever kiss, his blood pumping fast and hot throughout his entire body. They’ve been leading up to this moment for months now, maybe even years, but it obviously could not have happened at a worse time.
“I apologize. I shouldn’t have…that was highly inappropriate of me.”
“No!” Lan Xichen darts out a hand to grab Lan Qiren’s wrist, effectively cutting him off. “No, it’s not that. You have no idea how badly I want this. I’ve waited so long. I just…” Lan Xichen pauses to take a deep breath, clearly attempting to regain his usual composure. Lan Qiren hates that he is distracted by the flush creeping down his nephew's neck. “I’m afraid that this is happening for the wrong reasons.”
“Ah.”
“I could never forgive myself if I took advantage of your kindness.”
Lan Qiren processes this silently. He can understand Lan Xichen’s perspective. What would it look like for Lan Qiren to resist him for years only to finally give in at a time when Lan Xichen needed comfort the most? Would it be Lan Qiren giving himself freely? Could either of them ever really be certain?
“Perhaps now is not the time,” Lan Qiren says slowly, testing the words as he says them. There is disappointment there, but also a solidifying conviction that it is the right thing to do.
Lan Xichen’s expression mirrors what Lan Qiren imagines his own must look like. As he watches a few more tears spill over onto sharp cheekbones only to be swept away by elegant hands.
“I think I should go,” Lan Xichen says, nodding toward the door of the hanshi. “Just for a walk. To clear my mind.”
“A-huan.” Lan Qiren stands at the same time that Lan Xichen does. The lines of his nephew's body are rigid and tense, and Lan Qiren gets the feeling that if there weren't dozens of rules on the Wall of Discipline forbidding otherwise, he would have bolted out the door already. Lan Qiren takes a step forward. There are complicated emotions swirling within him, thoughts and doubts and desires and fears, but amidst all of that there is one certainty he can cling to. He is this boy’s uncle first and foremost, before all else. “Come lie down with me.”
“Shufu.” Lan Xichen’s expression flickers, jade cracking to reveal the raw ore underneath.
Lan Qiren holds up a hand for silence. “I cannot allow you to leave like this. Come lie down with me and I will hold you until you fall asleep.” It's all he can think to offer. In the aftermath of his mother's death, Lan Xichen spent many nights in his uncle's bed, lulled to sleep by Lan Qiren's voice reciting poetry, explaining clan rules, or singing songs.
Lan Xichen’s chin wobbles. For a second he looks as if he means to argue, but then his shoulders sag and he takes a step in Lan Qiren’s direction.
Lan Qiren leads him over toward the bed they share. There is a second bed that is meant for one of them, but it is neglected more often than not. Lan Xichen lays down first facing the wall with his long arms curled around himself. After dousing the lamps around the room, Lan Qiren lowers himself onto the bed behind him and curls himself around his nephew’s body.
For a long time the only sound in the room is their breathing. Just when Lan Qiren starts to think that Lan Xichen has fallen asleep, he begins to sniffle and hiccup, shoulders shaking with muffled sobs. “I love him. I love him and I hate him and I’m glad he’s dead but I miss him so much.”
Lan Qiren places his hand on Lan Xichen’s shoulder. There is nothing he can say to that. He cannot take this pain away from his nephew, though he would in a heartbeat if he could. All he can do is stay with him and listen as Lan Xichen confesses his secrets into the dark and hope that in the morning his burden will be lighter.