Work Text:
As the end credits ran across the screen, Lan Zhan glanced down to see Wei Ying texting furiously away from the comfort of Lan Zhan’s lap. A quick look at the screen confirmed that Nie Huaisang was the current recipient of Wei Ying’s stream of consciousness, although it looked like Nie Huaisang was responding just as quickly. Lan Zhan placed a palm softly on Wei Ying’s head before reaching for the remote.
“Lan Zhan, ah, could you rewind to the beginning of the movie? You can turn down the volume and do something else but I’m going to watch this masterpiece again.”
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying continued texting, although he nuzzled slightly into Lan Zhan’s hand in potential acknowledgement. Lan Zhan knew better than to trust he was listening. With a sigh, Lan Zhan started the movie over before placing the remote down and carding his hand through Wei Ying’s hair.
“Wei Ying, no.”
“Wei Ying, yes,” came the automatic response. Lan Zhan waited. Wei Ying spent another several minutes texting, ending with a flourish of his thumbs as he punctuated his thoughts with a curated gif of what looked to Lan Zhan to be the Saja Boys.
(Lan Zhan was truly in awe of the internet. The movie had only come out the previous evening. How were there easily searchable gifs already? Then again, Wei Ying was much more accomplished at social media and computers in general. Lan Zhan wouldn’t put it past Wei Ying to have created the gif himself while they watched the movie.)
Sitting up, Wei Ying dropped the phone in his lap and directed his attention to the screen once more, now showing the trio of hunters being told their duty was to create the Golden Honmoon.
Wei Ying turned to face Lan Zhan, sprawling so that one knee was against the back of the couch and one leg landed in Lan Zhan’s lap. Lan Zhan reflexively wrapped his hands around Wei Ying’s calf, digging his thumbs into the flesh and kneading the muscle; Wei Ying was notorious for not stretching unless he was actively trying to get Lan Zhan to, quote, “jump his juicy ass”. Lan Zhan had taken it upon himself to learn how to give proper massages, even though Wei Ying bragged often about his natural flexibility (usually as a challenge to Lan Zhan to test that flexibility).
After an appreciative groan, Wei Ying returned his attention to the movie for all of two seconds before his brain appeared to finally catch up to the conversation. “Wait, why Wei Ying no?”
“What you’re messaging Nie Huaisang about.”
The innocent look that Wei Ying immediately put on was offset by the constant pinging of incoming messages on his phone. He surreptitiously turned his phone to vibrate only. “Ah, Lan Zhan, we’re just trying to figure out who each Saja Boy was based off of! Do you have any guesses for Mystery Saja? A-Sang and I have a few ideas.”
Lan Zhan refused to give Wei Ying’s statement a response. He held his gaze while digging his thumb into a particularly tough knot on Wei Ying’s leg, effectively forcing Wei Ying to forgo his feigned innocence.
“You are not going to start a boy band.”
“Isn’t your job as my boyfriend to be supportive of my dreams, A-Zhan?” Wei Ying crossed his arms and pouted, even as he adjusted his seat to switch legs in Lan Zhan’s lap.
“You’ve only had this ‘dream’,” Lan Zhan emphasized his point with the air quotes his Wei Ying was so fond of, “for a few minutes.”
“A dream I’ve had for well over an hour, which my usually precise boyfriend would have said if he wasn’t trying to crush my lifelong goals to be in a boy band.”
“Hour-long or lifelong?” Lan Zhan placed his hand over Wei Ying’s phone before the man could get distracted by the continuing influx of messages from what appeared to be a group chat this time. Lan Zhan ignored the fact that he could hear his own phone on the coffee table vibrating at the same intervals.
“Lifelong. You didn’t know me until we were teenagers, Lan Zhan, you have no proof I haven’t always wanted to start a boy band.”
“We are cultivators, Wei Ying.”
“Exactly!!” Wei Ying exploded out of his seat in a flurry of motion, pointing at the screen where HUNTR/X was now performing to their stadium of fans. “Instead of performing local night hunts we could travel the world and help SO many more people. I bet I could even develop some talismans to use our shows to attract spirits - safely , don’t give me that look, Lan Zhan - and we can imbue spiritual energy into our songs to eliminate those spirits!”
“Idol music is not conducive to ‘Rest’.”
“We can throw in a romantic ballad every few songs.” Wei Ying waved his hand in dismissal. “Come on , Lan Zhan. You’re literally planning to start your masters on musical cultivation next year, your thesis could be on adapting cultivation to modern instead of traditional music!”
Lan Zhan shifted in his seat, distinctly uncomfortable with the idea. He could play several instruments but vastly preferred the guqin, and was rather fond of the traditional pieces that had been passed down through his clan for hundreds of years.
“I can even work in my dizi. It would be a great chance to test out the spiritual pieces I’ve been developing.”
That earned Wei Ying a sharp look. “You will not be performing new pieces around civilians.”
Wei Ying scowled. “Of course not, Lan Zhan. I’ll test them out in a loosely controlled environment, probably under your supervision since otherwise I’ll give you a heart attack. But think of all the good we can do!”
“And you have no plans to make fierce corpses dance to the songs you are supposedly going to write?”
The look that spread across Wei Ying’s face could only be described as a shit-eating grin.
“We’d have the coolest music videos ever. Civilians would just think it’s super fancy visual effects, and other cultivators would be awed by our control and begging to learn our techniques. A true win-win.”
Lan Zhan refused to rub his temple to alleviate the oncoming headache; he was well aware that was a habit he had picked up from his uncle. He was confident he could talk Wei Ying down from the fierce corpse backup dancers, but much less confident of completely dissuading Wei Ying from the idea if Nie Huaisang was already involved. Not that he truly wanted to discourage Wei Ying from anything that would bring him joy.
And Wei Ying did have a good point about modernizing musical cultivation techniques; he knew Wei Ying had already successfully written and used two different pieces for luring restless spirits during night hunts the past several months.
Their phones were still vibrating at regular intervals; a quick glance at Wei Ying’s phone confirmed messages in the group chat with Nie Huaisang, Wen Ning, Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Yanli, and (to Wei Ying’s ongoing dismay) Jin Zixuan.
“Who…” Lan Zhan hesitated. “Who, exactly, do you plan to form this group with?”
“Hmmm.” Wei Ying pretended to think, one hand on his hip and a finger tapping against his chin. “Myself and Wen Ning, of course, and A-Cheng although he’ll pretend he isn’t into it. Sangsang is fifty-fifty on being in the group or being our manager, although he’s going to reach out to his brother-in-law Meng Yao and see if he’s interested. I’ll bet you a thousand yuan that Jiejie has already declared herself our biggest fan. And…”
The smile on Wei Ying’s face only grew larger as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Lan Zhan’s lips while grabbing his phone from the couch.
“I promise we can incorporate rabbits somewhere in your design.”