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Nie Mingjue wasn’t a big fan of cities.

They smelled, for one. There tended to be garbage everywhere, not to mention the smoke, and the wind tunnels of the streets didn’t help the wind move anywhere but directly into his face. The people were another problem in that there were simply far too many of them. Nie Mingjue didn’t see the appeal of having constant traffic even though he grudgingly appreciated having a grocery store on every corner. He understood why Nie Huaisang and all of his dreams ran away to the city the second he was old enough but there would always be an ache in his chest when he thought about it, a little spark of resentment.

He wasn’t jealous of an abstract. He wasn’t. 

Okay, he thought, watching his little brother wrap his arms around his fiance’s waist, maybe he was a little jealous. Why shouldn’t he be, when Nie Huaisang had gone somewhere he couldn’t follow?

And yeah, so what if it was a little dramatic? His little brother was getting married in three days. Nie Mingjue had the right to be as overdramatic as he liked.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the sap Nie Huaisang was marrying. It was surprisingly the opposite, in fact. Any guy who would let Nie Mingjue push him around relentlessly on his farm for a week had surely earned his respect even if he’d already had it. Nie Mingjue would never admit that his only requirement in approving of Nie Huaisang’s significant other was that his brother loved them and was loved in return. That would ruin the very carefully crafted image Nie Mingjue put out just by the nature of what he looked like, and what was the fun in that? Watching Jiang Cheng sweat had been more than worth such a little fib.

But now it was the dead of winter, the snow made the city look gray and dirty and colder than ever, and Nie Mingjue was struggling with coming to terms with his brother getting married.

Nie Mingjue had spent the majority of his life watching over his little brother. From the moment he was born, Nie Mingjue had been determined to be the best big brother possible. When the tragedies had whittled their family down to just the two of them when Nie Huaisang was too young to reconcile the loss, Nie Mingjue had stepped up and raised Nie Huaisang from that moment on and failure had never been an option. He’d done right by his little brother every step of the way and he was achingly, painfully proud of the man he’d grown up to be.

But what they don’t tell you is that kids grow up to become adults, and when they’re adults, they leave and break your heart. They leave you to an empty house and too many acres and the realization that he had somehow managed to do too well, that he had given his brother everything at the cost of just as much and more.

Nie Mingjue didn’t regret it. His brother was a force to be reckoned with. If he had to do it over again, he’d do everything the same if it meant he could be standing here in this terrible city, his heart lodged in his windpipe as his brother glowed golden in the arms of the man he was marrying. 

Nie Huaisang was getting married in three days and Nie Mingjue was trying very desperately not to feel like he was losing his entire world.

“And then there were the flowers, Da-ge,” his brother bemoaned, rolling his eyes. “A-Cheng didn’t care as much—don’t give me that look, you said it yourself—but someone had to do it, you know? I smelled so many flowers, Da-ge. I never want to smell another flower in my life.”

“You’ll smell plenty at the wedding,” Jiang Cheng pointed out.

“Yeah, well. After that. Obviously.”

Nie Mingjue felt like he was spitting up blood but still choked out, “What did you decide on?”

His brother excitedly launched into an explanation of his every choice, and Nie Mingjue felt the divide inside of his chest yawn open a little wider.

Jiang Cheng walked measuredly beside his brother, rubbing Nie Huaisang’s arm as if he feared he was cold despite the large down jacket he had on. Nie Mingjue tried not to project his ire onto him, even if a part of him knew Jiang Cheng was the reason Nie Huaisang stayed in the city. He was one of the biggest reasons why they would never leave, Jiang Cheng with his trust fund wallet and single-minded determination and cuffed jeans.

It was pretty selfish to wish, even in the back of his mind, that Nie Huaisang be slightly less happy with his choice in partner but, well. That was where Nie Mingjue was at. 

“You’ll like this place,” his brother was assuring him as Nie Mingjue tried to shake it off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and glaring down at the uneven sidewalks and the people who kept walking way too damn close to him. “It’s exciting to have everyone in the same place for once. Like a family reunion but hopefully not as awful.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. “My family will be there.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“Jin Zixuan?”

Nie Huaisang laughed. “I am not at liberty to trash-talk one of the people who pays my rent.”

“You trash-talk me all the time.”

“Ooh, we’re being clever today, are we?” Nie Huaisang replied dryly, puffing up his cheeks at Jiang Cheng. The wind had made his cheeks rosier with the chill and, hair stuffed under his cap and eyes twinkling, Nie Mingjue remembered when Huaisang would hang off of his arm when he was eight, curled up to his side for warmth. It made his chest ache even as his brother continued, petulant, “For that, you can deal with your mother on your own.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” Jiang Cheng replied, but there was a hint of fear in it.

Nie Mingjue had slowly but surely gotten used to their obnoxious flirting right in front of him, but he still could only stomach so much. Wedding or not. “Huaisang. Behave.”

“I am behaving,” Nie Huaisang informed him, turning those eyes and cheeks and a million nostalgic memories onto him instead. “I’m so well-behaved, Da-ge. I haven’t cried for attention in, like, forty minutes. You’re welcome.”

A part of Nie Mingjue wanted to tuck his little brother under his arm like a football and make a run for it. The more sensible part merely rolled his eyes, letting Jiang Cheng pull Nie Huaisang’s hat down over his eyes in revenge, making his brother whine and cry out and laugh so loud it echoed up and down the street. Jiang Cheng took off running to escape and Nie Huaisang whizzed after him, laughter trailing in his wake.

Nie Mingjue watched them chase each other through the crowds, disregarding the passerby as Jiang Cheng leapt away from Nie Huaisang’s attempts to grab him, both of them laughing as if it was the most fun they’d ever had. Nie Mingjue had never fully understood how they were able to do that, how they had somehow found the part of each other that made joy so… simple. So careless and confident.

He’d had lovers, sure. But he’d never been in love like that, loud laughing down the street, shameless banter and sunshine smiles. Nie Mingjue had never met someone that made him feel innocent, who made it easy to make a fool of himself with no judgement. He’d never known a love that made outsiders feel this lonely.

Maybe he was a little jealous of that, too. Maybe he always had been, although Nie Mingjue had never been greedy enough to hate something that Nie Huaisang had.

He wondered what it was like. He wondered if it was as simple and effortless as it looked.

It was a foolish fantasy. An unnecessary one. Nie Mingjue had work to do and a lifestyle to achieve. He didn’t need any distractions, least of all one that would only prove to be fleeting.

Still, he thought, watching Jiang Cheng catch his brother around the waist and tug him closer, watching the way Nie Huaisang threw his head back and laughed. Still.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The restaurant was nice, nicer than he’d thought it would be. Nie Mingjue felt incredibly, embarrassingly underdressed in his nicest pair of jeans, ones from a department store that Nie Huaisang had made him buy a few summers ago because he couldn’t fathom the idea of Nie Mingjue owning nothing “smart casual”. Earlier he’d practically curled his lip when his brother had threatened to put a tie on him but perhaps he should’ve let him, if just this once. Nie Mingjue felt like he was getting hives at how rich and important everyone looked.

Nie Mingjue didn’t hate money. He hated people with money. 

This party was crawling with trust fund kids.

Nie Mingjue had retreated to a corner of the room at his earliest convenience, knocking back as many glasses of cheap champagne as was possible without drinking directly from the bottle. At one point early into the gathering, the second Nie Huaisang seemed to realize Nie Mingjue was in fight or flight mode, he’d slipped him a triple whiskey and that had helped.

It was… strange, standing on the outside and looking into his brother’s life.

As long as Nie Mingjue could remember, Nie Huaisang had been the most important part of his life. Even after he’d left, Nie Mingjue worked to make sure there was always a home for him to come back to, worked hard enough to send him more spending money than he’d said he would. He’d sat alone in a quiet house thinking about Nie Huaisang and if he was okay. He’d gotten drunk at the pub several times, talking about how he worried about his little brother.

It was unsettling, to see the person Nie Huaisang had become without him. To see him interact with people he clearly knew well, the ones who dressed nice and drank a little too much, knowing that Nie Mingjue would probably never know their names and would never know how they’d met.

Nie Mingjue knew every single person in their town. He’d known the names of all of Nie Huaisang’s friends, had gone to school with a few of his teachers. It was too much all at once to realize Nie Huaisang had always been out there living a life that he wouldn’t be able to understand even with a map and a compass. 

Nie Mingjue watched his brother laugh at a boy in black whose arm hung around Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and he almost didn’t notice the man who’d come to stand beside him until he’d said, “Are you alright?”

He practically jumped out of his skin. And then, when he turned to see who’d spoken, he nearly shook off his skin and made a run for it anyway.

He was gorgeous, intimidatingly so. Like a statue in a museum that had come to life, carved from jade and polished to perfection. He was smiling at him kindly, sympathetic, like he could tell Nie Mingjue was moments away from crawling into the nearest broom closet and hiding out for a few hours. His smile was beautiful, too, straight teeth and laugh creases around his eyes.

Nie Mingjue stared at him for a long, long moment, like a part of his mind thought that he’d somehow manifested him out of pure loneliness. And then he finally croaked out, “I’m alright.”

He must not have sounded very convincing. The man laughed, sunshine over the snowfall on the hills, the first light after a harrowing winter storm. He held one hand out for Nie Mingjue to shake and Nie Mingjue hoped his hand wasn’t clammy as he took it.

“Lan Xichen,” the man introduced himself. His hand was soft. Did he use lotion? He probably used fancy lotion. He let go, leaning against the wall next to Nie Mingjue as if he was there to stay. 

Nie Mingjue recovered his voice for long enough to tell the stranger his name. Lan Xichen tilted his head to the side curiously.

“Nie?” he replied. “As in…”

Lan Xichen nodded toward Nie Huaisang, who was laughing into his wine glass as Jiang Cheng appeared to be assaulting the man who’d had his arm over his shoulders. Nie Mingjue assumed that he was Jiang Cheng’s brother. 

“My little brother.”

A soft smile covered Lan Xichen’s face. “Ah, yes. I have one of them as well.”

He nodded toward the young man who looked very much like him, could’ve been his twin if he didn’t stand with shoulders too straight and face too unreadable. Jiang Cheng managed to push the black-clad boy off of him and into the young man in question, who simply put his arm around his waist and tugged him closer protectively. The black-clad man stuck out his tongue at Jiang Cheng as Nie Huaisang laughed and laughed.

Lan Xichen made an amused noise, and then seemed to be thinking about it. “Hm, then what does that make us? My little brother is engaged to your brother’s soon-to-be brother-in-law…”

It makes us strangers, Nie Mingjue could’ve said. He could’ve been coy, could’ve said to this man, Depends on what you want me to be. Instead, too full of too many things, all Nie Mingjue managed was, “Hm.”

Lan Xichen laughed again like it was a charming joke, as if Nie Mingjue was funny. 

Nie Mingjue was not very funny. Or, at least, no one had told him he was funny or in any way acted like he was. He had been told he was intimidating plenty of times, of course; he had laughed himself hoarse after he’d seen Jiang Cheng’s first reaction to him, holding an axe like a murder weapon—and if he’d been chopping wood on purpose… well, that was for him to know. But funny? Not so much that, no.

But Lan Xichen was looking at him like he was hilarious, a beautiful smile carved into his face as if it was permanent, as if perfection could never be sad. He was holding a water bottle between his hands—of course he didn’t drink, of course such earthly temptations were above him—and Nie Mingjue practically held his breath waiting for him to speak. 

This was a bad idea, he realized a little too late. It was a bad idea to get so entranced in someone only days before his little brother’s big day, a person he would likely never see again—

“I know exactly how you feel,” Lan Xichen said and, for one heart-stopping moment, Nie Mingjue wondered if he’d been rambling out loud this entire time. But he simply continued, “It’s a weird thing, isn’t it? Watching your little brother be so grown up without you.”

Oh. Oh.

Nie Mingjue was doomed.

He nodded slowly, trying to buy the time to catch his breath. Trying not to fall over his own two feet and trip right over himself into something impossible, fueled by his own insecurities and the uneven ground he was standing on. “I don’t know what to think about it,” Nie Mingjue admitted honestly because that, at least, did not feel like confessing to a crime.

Lan Xichen hummed, glancing between his own brother and Nie Mingjue. “I think that’s where I’m at, too. Suspended somewhere between happiness and wanting to make a run for it.”

Nie Mingjue was a goner, a goner—

“Are you from around here?” he asked, and nearly winced. It was almost as bad as asking about the weather. Lan Xichen, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice.

“A little further north,” he explained, sipping from his water bottle. Nie Mingjue resolutely did not look at the way his throat moved when he swallowed. “Nie Huaisang told me you grew up similarly. Outside of town.”

Of course Huaisang had already told all of these strangers about him. Nie Mingjue was going to wring his neck. “Something like that.”

Lan Xichen smiled. He was so agreeable, so kind, but there was a hesitation there too. As if he hadn’t been confident enough to cross the space between them, to throw himself into a conversation with a stranger as if they had known each other their whole lives.

And maybe it felt like that, even a little bit. Nie Mingjue did not know this man but somehow it felt like he had known him for years, like he knew what he was going to say before he said it. Of course he didn’t; of course he didn’t know this man at all, a man who dressed like he had money and didn’t think a second about it, smiling serenely as he drifted to the least talked to person in the whole party. Of course Nie Mingjue could not begin to know someone that he had never met, but a part of him wanted to. A part of him, desperate and lonely and maybe a lot more adrift than he realized, wanted to ask for something he could not have.

Nie Mingjue wished he could kick himself. Because he couldn’t, he downed the rest of his drink instead.

“Brother-in-law’s brother-in-law,” Nie Mingjue mused, and then snorted. 

Lan Xichen smiled. “It’s all a little silly, isn’t it?” He gestured toward the party at large, expression still so painfully pleasant. “Everyone has to know how everyone knows each other. High society.”

“Hm,” Nie Mingjue murmured again. He glanced over at Lan Xichen. “I wonder what they have to say about me, then.”

Lan Xichen laughed again. “Oh, I’m sure they have no idea what to do with you. And I mean that as a compliment.”

It felt like flirting. Nie Mingjue wondered if he was imagining it.

“Then what are you?” Nie Mingjue asked, testing the waters. 

“High society,” Lan Xichen admitted, and then grinned. “But I don’t care much for the gossip.”

Nie Mingjue had a feeling that wasn’t the whole story, that Lan Xichen had as good of a reason to hide on the outskirts as he did. Even if he’d had the courage to ask, though, he never got the chance.

He saw Huaisang turn as if to check up on him—and then do a double-take. Huaisang nudged Jiang Cheng, who glanced over and then nudged his brother with clear reluctance. His brother followed their gazes, eyes widening, and then reached over and shook his companion with both hands, severely enough that it seemed to startle Lan Xichen’s unreadable brother.

“Lan Zhan!” Jiang Cheng’s brother called, loud and wild and lined with laughter.

Nie Mingjue looked away before the man had the opportunity to turn, feeling the back of his neck getting warm as if he was guilty of something. Of what? Of talking to someone who initiated a conversation with him? He didn’t know what the big deal was.

Lan Xichen seemed to, though. He must have noticed the others, or perhaps Nie Mingjue’s preoccupation with them—he coughed lightly into his hand as if embarrassed, eyes downcast as if to avoid catching their eyes. He didn’t look at Nie Mingjue’s, either, but he was still angled toward him. It was hard to tell in the dimness of the lighting, in the flustering long moments where Nie Mingjue was sure they were being stared at, but he could’ve sworn Lan Xichen was blushing. 

He almost asked. He wanted to, as much as he didn’t want to shatter this moment more than it already had. But he didn’t have to, because it was Lan Xichen who looked up after a moment and smiled as if in apology, as if he thought Nie Mingjue might be bothered.

“It’s getting late,” the other man said although it couldn’t have been later than eight in the evening. He offered Nie Mingjue a sweet smile, bowing his head formally. “I’ll see you at the dinner party, I assume?”

Nie Mingjue, for fear of saying the wrong thing, nodded.

And just as easily as Lan Xichen walked into his life, he walked out of it. He left behind one last smile before slipping away into the crowd, tall and wide but drifting through untouchably, like an immortal. Nie Mingjue watched him go, staring at the man’s back, speechless.

Lan Xichen slipped through the door, closing it behind him. In the breath of only a few moments, Nie Mingjue saw his shape wander past the outside windows, frosted glass making him look like the drift of a cloud on a gray winter day. 

Nie Mingjue realized he was staring and forced himself to look away, back down toward his empty glass. He was fairly sure there was at least one person still looking at him, and he was fairly sure it was Huaisang. He didn’t dare to look up, even though a part of him wanted to stare down his little brother. He was fairly sure he would win the stare-off, for what it was worth. Even still, he was sure an explanation would be demanded later, and that he would not be able to escape it.

It felt too much like a dream. Like Nie Mingjue had fallen asleep standing up and had been shocked awake in the middle of the best part, always left wondering what would have happened next.

Unbelievable. Nie Mingjue had always been better than hopelessly dreaming for someone he did not know.

Nie Mingjue shrugged away from his wall, setting course for the bar. He was in desperate need of a refill.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The rush of the wedding preparations was a welcome distraction. Between his brother’s manic enthusiasm and finding Jiang Cheng hyperventilating in any available corner, Nie Mingjue had his hands full. His brother’s excitement and nervousness was enough fuel to the fire to keep Nie Mingjue’s mind busy as they finalized all of the little details, as the days between then and now grew closer. 

Somehow, mercifully, he had managed to avoid any questions regarding Lan Xichen, who was beginning to seem more like a dream or a ghost than a real person. Nie Mingjue occasionally caught Huaisang looking at him like he was about to ask, and then thought better of it.

That suited Nie Mingjue. There was plenty of work to do.

His brother’s wedding wasn’t an insanely elaborate affair, which Nie Mingjue was more than a little thankful for. As much as Nie Mingjue would have preferred to host the marriage on his own land, he understood the reasoning behind why the couple had politely refused—not nearly enough places for guests to stay, too many family members already in the city to overcomplicate their choice of location. As it stood, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng had instead chosen an indoor garden on the top of a skyscraper for the ceremony, and then a luxury hotel across the street for the reception and remaining festivities. Nie Mingjue, who had only offered the couple a lump sum, truly did not want to know how much money Jiang Cheng’s parents must have offered for their union. After meeting his lightning-eyed mother, Nie Mingjue was fairly sure it was a small fortune.

There had been a lot of details to lock down. Making sure the decorations were organized, the menu finalized. Nie Huaisang nearly had a breakdown about chairs until Jiang Cheng bundled him off in warm clothing and swept him out of their apartment for a long walk. By the time they’d come back, Nie Huaisang was smiling again.

It became clear part way through the day before the wedding that Huaisang had simply been biding his time.

The dinner party was only a handful of hours away—Jiang Cheng had been abducted from the apartment a handful of hours ago by his rambunctious brother, who sent Huaisang an exaggerated wink before dragging his brother away. Nie Mingjue was confident Jiang Cheng would be significantly less sober when he was deposited back into Nie Huaisang’s custody. 

The door clicked behind them, leaving the apartment blissfully quiet. Nie Mingjue had only been to this apartment a handful of times before but it always caught him off guard, seeing his brother’s belongings in this unfamiliar space. It was strange, realizing that his brother’s home was no longer the farm.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang moaned, flopping gracelessly over the surface of the table. “No one told me weddings were so much work.”

“Television doesn’t teach those things,” Nie Mingjue replied, rolling his eyes. He pushed off of the couch, moving toward the kitchen table. “What is it this time?”

Nie Huaisang, wearing the same puppy dog eyes and pitiful expression as he had when he was eight and asked for goats for the farm, said, “Don’t be mad.”

Nie Mingjue instantly felt his temper rising. “Huaisang.”

And that was how, hours before his brother’s fancy night-before dinner party, less than twenty-four hours until his baby brother was getting married, Nie Mingjue found himself bundling up white roses in purple and gold ribbons and trying to remember every single reason in the world not to bludgeon his brother with his bare hands. Nie Huaisang, who seemed able to smell his murderous rage, kept talking in an attempt at distraction.

“It’s all about the details, Da-ge,” his brother explained earnestly. “I know they’re just for the plate settings, but it’s a sweet gesture, you know? Like, when Yanli-jiejie got married—Jiang Cheng’s sister, you remember—she made sure that every place setting had a packet of seeds. Flowers and succulents and herbs. There were all different types, all of the ones she had at the wedding—bouquets, centerpieces, all of them. It was so we could take them home and grow them later, so that we would have something we could look at every day and remember the happy moment that we all shared.”

Nie Huaisang gestured toward one of the planters by the window, a soft smile on his face.

“We got daffodils,” he said, “and mint, and peonies. A daisy. And every time I look at that, or every time I walk past them, I remember dancing with Jiang Cheng at the wedding. And I remember how that was the night I knew I wanted to marry him.”

His brother was tying ribbons with a small smile on his face, secret and sweet like Nie Mingjue was being offered an insight that only few got to see. The sting of feeling so outside of his brother’s life eased, just a little.

“We hadn’t known each other long at that point,” Nie Huaisang admitted. “But I just knew. It’s crazy to think it’s happening, though. It doesn’t feel like marriage is something that was meant to happen to me.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

His brother choked out a startled laugh. “Da-ge! You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am, but not when you’re being over-dramatic.”

“It’s my wedding, I’m allowed,” Nie Huaisang informed him, grinning. “Aren’t you going to ask what my party favors are?”

“I know you’ll tell me anyway.”

His brother nudged his shin under the table but laughed. The stress of the day seemed to melt off of him. “I really wanted to steal her idea but I ultimately decided against it. We’re doing bottles of wine instead.”

“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue growled, but he couldn’t help but to snort, amused.

His brother was shaking with laughter. “I’m here to host a damn good party, Da-ge. And also spend Jiang Cheng’s parents’ money.”

“I raised you right,” Nie Mingjue decided, and then stopped talking, a small ball of emotion lodged in his throat.

Nie Huaisang, for all that he was possibly the only person who could read Nie Mingjue in the whole world, didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did, and maybe it was just a mercy when he casually remarked, “We’re gonna have to do those bottles, too. I hope we have enough ribbon.”

Nie Mingjue swallowed back the quiet sorrow and looked at the metric fuck-ton of ribbon. “I think we’ll be fine.”

For a few moments, they tied in silence. Nie Mingjue wasn’t as good at it as his brother, fingers large and fumbling. Nie Huaisang, who had always been drawn to the gentler things, worked easily, his ribbons tied in neat, straight bows. Nie Mingjue’s were always crooked and a little messy, but his brother didn’t seem to mind.

Before the ceiling could completely collapse in on him and send him into an inevitable emotional tailspin, Nie Huaisang very obviously commented, “So, you met Lan Xichen.”

It took all of Nie Mingjue’s self-control not to curl his hands into fists and crush the delicate ribbon he was in the middle of tying. “Why.”

Nie Huaisang hummed innocently. Nie Mingjue knew he was anything but. “I’m just asking, Da-ge, you don’t have to get defensive. You two seemed to be getting along.”

He knew his brother’s antics better than anyone. Nie Mingjue narrowed his eyes at his brother, reading the lazy self-satisfaction in the curl of his mouth, the amusement in his eyes, and he nearly punted him across the room.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Nie Huaisang replied. It was startlingly genuine. His brother shrugged. “I just noticed you two talking, which was pretty surprising, considering you only talked to a few people that night. How did you like him?”

“He’s nice,” Nie Mingjue said. Nie Huaisang waited, and then rolled his eyes when he realized he wasn’t going to continue.

“He is nice,” Nie Huaisang replied. And then, devilishly, “He’s pretty handsome, too, huh?”

“Huaisang.”

“What? I’m taken, not blind.”

Nie Mingjue finished his bow and looked up to glare at his brother. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything,” Nie Huaisang replied, but that amusement was back in his grin. “So, what did you two talk about? Wei Ying’s dating his brother, you know.”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue said, and then blew out a long breath when he realized his brother wasn’t going to accept that as his only answer. “We mostly just talked about you two. A little bit about me not being from around town.”

“Ooooh,” Nie Huaisang said eagerly, and yelped when Nie Mingjue kicked his leg a little too hard. 

“Do not ‘ooh’, Huaisang.”

“I’ll do what I want,” his brother murmured with the petulance of a spoiled brat. Perhaps he hadn’t raised him as well as he thought he had, Nie Mingjue thought wryly. “Did you like him?”

Nie Mingjue stared at him. “You’re trying to set me up.”

“You can think of it as friendship, if that makes you feel better,” his brother generously offered.

“I’m not interested in finding a partner at your wedding.”

“The wedding is just a lovely little backdrop,” Nie Huaisang assured him eagerly. “Don’t even think about the wedding. Actually, yeah, think about the wedding. I’m two seconds from having a breakdown about it and I’m probably going to need you to scrape me off the floor soon. But I would really like it if you two got to know each other.”

“You’re attempting to matchmake at your own wedding.”

“I’ll stop, if it really bothers you.”

And wasn’t that the whole problem? Nie Mingjue wasn’t bothered. He should have been furious and demanded his brother to back down, which he would. No matter how mischievous he could be, Nie Huaisang knew how to understand boundaries, and Nie Mingjue knew his brother would never knowingly set him up for something he wasn’t willing to deal with. 

But there had been something about Lan Xichen that made Nie Mingjue look twice. Something beyond the pretty face and the polite smiles and the charming laugh. There had been a familiar sadness. Loneliness Nie Mingjue knew well. Lan Xichen must have known most everyone in that room but still he had chosen to speak to Nie Mingjue, and he couldn’t help but to wonder if Lan Xichen had seen it in him, too.

There wasn’t any harm in it. Nie Mingjue did not have to fall in love in a week. 

“It’s fine,” he finally said, “but don’t overstep.”

“I’ll be so polite, Da-ge,” his brother informed him, and then casually added, “and you’re already sitting next to him tonight anyway.”

Nie Mingjue felt his eye twitch. He took a very deep breath.

Nie Huaisang tied off the last of the flowers’ ribbons neatly, less than an hour before they had to leave for the beginning of the end—or, potentially, the end of the beginning—and he looked up at Nie Mingjue with a bright, elated smile.

“I’m getting married,” Nie Huaisang said, as if he was still surprised. As if he thought it was all a dream that he might wake up from at any moment, weeks in the past—or perhaps even years, opening his eyes to the ugly green walls of his old bedroom.

Nie Mingjue felt a great big weight on his chest. For once, he didn’t try to hide it, not even when he leaned across the table and put his hand on top of his brother’s head. The hysteria in his grin relaxed just slightly, just a little more calm and happy.

Nie Mingjue ran his hand over his brother’s hair. Thought, for not the first time, who let you grow up so fast?

“You’re getting married,” he echoed, his voice shaking.

Nie Huaisang caught Nie Mingjue’s hand before he could pull it away, squeezing it between both of his. Nie Huaisang still smiled at him like he did when he was a kid, sometimes. Young and sweet and wild.

His little brother. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

“Get up,” Nie Mingjue ordered, clearing his throat. “You’ll be late.”

Nie Mingjue couldn’t count the amount of times he’d said that, bursting into Nie Huaisang’s room and shouting at him until he crawled out of bed, nearly running late for the school bus. It had been his job to get his brother up before it was even just the two of them left, Nie Huaisang always so lost in his head that he was always running just a little too late.

Nie Huaisang always shifted so quickly from standing still to a full sprint. Nie Mingjue never used to have this much trouble keeping up.

His brother shot him one last grin before darting off again, leaving Nie Mingjue sitting in the chaos of flowers and ribbons, that same yawning chasm inside of him cracking open a little wider, the same pride and grief and hope nearly choking him.

Nie Mingjue hesitated there for a long moment. Looked out across the living room at the blooms on the window sills. Daffodils and peonies and one single daisy.

He rallied himself, and then got to his feet.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The event ran smoothly under the watchful eye of Yu Ziyuan, Jiang Cheng’s sharp-tongued mother. At one point, Nie Mingjue heard Jiang Cheng refer to her under his breath, half-sarcastically, as Madam Yu. Nie Mingjue figured that was a fitting address for a woman who held her head high like she was royalty.

He couldn’t fault her for the strictness once the event went by smoothly. Some of the workers looked ready to take off at a sprint at any moment but the steps were choreographed and the music playlist was double- and triple-checked. Most of the guests hadn’t even been told to come until after the boring parts were over, leaving Nie Mingjue to make small-talk with Jiang Fengmian, who was significantly more friendly than his wife but much less impressive.

Jiang Yanli and her husband arrived halfway through the third practice. Wei Ying and Lan Xichen’s brother arrived partway through Yu Ziyuan snapping at Jiang Cheng over the final seating arrangements. Upon hearing that his adoptive mother was already yelling, Wei Ying made a very valiant attempt at turning around and leaving as if he had never been there in the first place only to be dragged back by Jiang Cheng’s fist curled around his collar.

It was only halfway through watching Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng practice their slow dancing, murmuring to each other and laughing as they moved effortlessly to the song they’d chosen, that Nie Mingjue noticed the presence settle in at his elbow.

“They’re very charming, aren’t they?” Lan Xichen commented, smiling in their direction. It was a little wistful. Nie Mingjue couldn’t blame him. 

“Hm,” Nie Mingjue commented. They were—they always had been. Even Nie Mingjue, back when he’d first met Jiang Cheng, had been dead-set on making his own decision about the man his brother had chosen. But then he’d seen the way his brother smiled at him, saw the way Jiang Cheng’s gaze eased when he looked at Nie Huaisang, and any spite that Nie Mingjue had toward his existence melted.

As if he sensed what Nie Mingjue was thinking of, Lan Xichen smiled over at him.

“Jiang Cheng has mellowed a lot since meeting your brother,” Lan Xichen observed, turning his gaze back to watching the couple dance. “I’m sure your brother shows some of those changes, as well.”

Nie Mingjue was suddenly reminded of his brother using the backdrop of his wedding to matchmake him with this man and admitted, “He’s still a bit of a brat.”

Lan Xichen laughed. 

Nie Huaisang must’ve heard—he glanced over, saw them together, and then immediately and pointedly looked in the opposite direction in a way that was very obvious and made Nie Mingjue contemplate, for not the first or last time, thoroughly disowning him.

No one else seemed to notice, at the very least. Lan Xichen remained a solid presence at his side, head now tilted to look up at him. Nie Mingjue had always been taller than everyone he knew but Lan Xichen was tall enough himself to make the move seem casual. Tall enough to make Nie Mingjue feel a little less obvious, a little less like he stood out.

Nie Mingjue figured it was his turn to say something but his brain was completely empty, a little too surprised to find Lan Xichen seeking him out. He turned back to the dancing couple, watching his brother attempt to convince Jiang Cheng of something. Jiang Cheng kept shaking his head, and Nie Mingjue figured he would be folding like a card table in a matter of moments.

As if following his train of thought, Lan Xichen let out another light laugh like a spring wind. “Oh come on, you don’t think it’s cute?”

Nie Mingjue figured, if it was anyone other than his little brother, he might’ve agreed. But the weight of realizing that Nie Huaisang was getting married tomorrow, in less than twenty-four hours, was sinking in, so he barely managed another “hm”.

Lan Xichen didn’t seem dissuaded. Quite the opposite, in fact. He turned his body a little closer to face Nie Mingjue, letting his attention linger as if Nie Mingjue was the most interesting thing in the entire room, his expression thoughtful.

He felt a little too raw. Like an exposed nerve. Without thinking, Nie Mingjue demanded, “What?”

“Nothing,” Lan Xichen replied, clearly lying and smiling like he was amused. “You care about your brother a lot. It’s charming.”

Charming. Another word Nie Mingjue had never really heard equated to him, not by anyone who mattered. He tried not to let it sink in too deep, tried to let it roll off of him like water to duck feathers, with little success.

He hoped it didn’t show on his face. 

“I’ll be happy when the dinners are done with,” Nie Mingjue finally admitted, far past the socially acceptable time to reply. If he noticed, Lan Xichen didn’t acknowledge as such, proving even further that he was wildly and inconceivably perfect.

“Hm, that’s true,” Lan Xichen commented, glancing toward the long table, set with nice dishes and fine crystal. “Your brother managed to talk the Jiangs down from a lot of tradition, too, from what I’ve heard. It could’ve been worse.”

“Huaisang always gets what he wants,” he replied, tiredly, matter-of-factly. Lan Xichen muffled his laughter into the back of his hand, eyes dancing with amusement as he met Nie Mingjue’s gaze.

“Indeed,” Lan Xichen allowed, grinning even as he dropped his hand, glancing back toward the dance floor. 

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng were no longer dancing, but Jiang Cheng’s brother had managed to get his way in between them, demonstrating a dance move that more closely fit a club rather than a ballroom. Jiang Cheng was attempting to restrain his brother as Nie Huaisang tapped his finger to his chin as if considering attempting the move. Lan Xichen’s brother looked on a handful of feet away, mouth twitching as if in fond exasperation.

Lan Xichen’s eyes found his brother and he muffled another laugh, windchimes and spring afternoons.

“If it makes you feel better,” he began, glancing back at Nie Mingjue with a small smile, “there likely won’t be another family wedding anytime soon. There’s a long-running bet on when my brother and Wei Ying will elope.”

Nie Mingjue eyed the couple; Wei Ying appeared to be trying to convince Lan Zhan to join him and Lan Zhan appeared to be pretending he could not hear or see. “Why would they elope?”

“If you asked my uncle or Yu-furen, they would likely say it’s due to insolence. That Wei Ying led my brother astray and caused him to turn his back on my family’s long-standing traditions and principles.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows rose. “And what would you say?”

“My brother is impatient,” Lan Xichen said, and unbelievably—rolled his eyes.

It was enough to shock a laugh out of him, though it sounded a little more like a snort. Lan Xichen smiled over at him anyway, as if gratified. Like he was almost proud to get Nie Mingjue to laugh.

“Eloping doesn’t sound too bad,” Nie Mingjue commented, eyeing the cluster of parents and aunties and uncles gathered around the small bar area, the bartender looking harried. “Less theatrics, at least.”

Lan Xichen made a sound of surprise. Nie Mingjue turned back to him in time to see Lan Xichen school his expression, even if his eyebrows were up, mouth curled like he might laugh again.

“That surprises me,” the other man admitted when he noticed Nie Mingjue’s unspoken question. “I’m not sure why, but you struck me as a romantic.”

Nie Mingjue, who tended to intimidate people just by looking at them, who had been told he scowled enough to make his thoughts a mystery—Nie Mingjue, who could count on one hand the amount of people whose company he liked more than his horse’s, who could count even less people who had approached him first—Nie Mingjue was floored.

“A romantic.”

“Mhm,” Lan Xichen replied, not perturbed at all even though Nie Mingjue must’ve been staring at him like he’d lost his mind. Under the orange-yellow glow of the lights, Lan Xichen looked bathed in a breathless sunset, the kind that streaked across the sky after an incredible storm.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t much of a romantic. He wasn’t. But a small part of him, some quiet voice in the back of his mind, wanted to reach out and make sure this man was real. Some part of him wanted someone to interrupt them, to see them interact with Lan Xichen to confirm he was not a hallucination from his deepest, wildest dreams.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t much of a romantic, had never been, but this man smiled at him as sweet as the open sky and he thought he could become one, if that meant more moments like this one.

He managed to choke out, “Why did you think that?”

“It’s the way you look at them,” Lan Xichen replied, nodding in the general direction of their brothers and their wayward partners. “I understand it, I suppose. The world makes it easy to be cynical but love like that—it makes you want to believe a little, right?”

Nie Mingjue stared at the soft sadness in Lan Xichen’s eyes, the subtle way he shifted his body as if to go on the defensive, all of his thoughts unfolding over his face like a breeze catching the pages of an open book—and Nie Mingjue was struck with a sudden moment of understanding.

It was the ghost of heartbreak. The rough, slippery flagstones one had to walk between the end of something and the beginning of another, treading carefully and hoping their foot doesn’t get caught. Hoping they don’t fall without someone there to catch them.

And perhaps Nie Mingjue was a bit of a romantic. So sue him. He always had been, somewhere between all of the long working days leaving him plenty of room to daydream and watching his open-hearted brother grow up with a softness that Nie Mingjue had never been able to chase. Nie Mingjue watched all the same movies as his brother, watched Nie Huaisang sigh dreamily over city scenes and the characters getting together at the end, tied neatly with a bow. When he was younger, before Nie Huaisang figured out how to grow up, his little brother used to love to talk about happily ever afters.

Nie Mingjue was a romantic, but only to a point. He knew by now how the game was played, that humans are inherently flawed creatures with expectations and compromises. Nie Mingjue has stopped believing he could be anyone’s ideal a long time ago and it’s made it a little easier, sugar to help the medicine go down.

Lan Xichen was wilting like someone who had gotten their heart broken, like the ache had faded but the memories hadn’t. He was smiling at Nie Mingjue but his eyes were far away when he looked toward their brothers, like he was imagining a fifth person in the fray that no longer existed.

And it—stung. Just a little, just enough to knock his head out of the clouds. Nie Mingjue had learned long ago that there was no good in dreaming.

“Ah,” Nie Mingjue said, even though he didn’t really mean to.

As if finally noticing his own preoccupation, Lan Xichen blinked owlishly, and then shook his head. “Oh,” he said, somehow understanding completely, his smile shifting to something embarrassed and—endeared. “Oh, no. A while ago, now.”

Nie Mingjue nodded. Giving him an out. 

Lan Xichen surprised him by not taking it, instead keeping his bronze-gold eyes firmly on Nie Mingjue’s when he asked, “And—you?”

It should have been embarrassing, he thought. He should have wanted to shrink in on himself, skin crawling and face burning. Under the steady weight of Lan Xichen’s gaze, he said, “No.”

Lan Xichen nodded, and then smiled. Nie Mingjue wondered if his face ever hurt, smiling so much. “Good to know.”

Nie Mingjue desperately wished he had a drink in his hand, something to distract himself with. He felt like he was taking up too much space, like if he moved his elbows he might crack the plaster on the wall, like if he took a step the wooden floor might splinter. Nie Mingjue typically felt too large for a room but he was fairly certain he was about to burst out of his skin.

Before Nie Mingjue could attempt to comprehend opening his mouth and letting actual words fall out, before he could stick his foot directly into his mouth and make more of a fool of himself than he already has—Yu Ziyuan called for dinner, voice echoing through the room. Nie Mingjue hadn’t had a mother for a long time but he still felt a chill of terror up his spine at the tone that left no room for argument.

Lan Xichen smiled, sweeping a hand out and gesturing for Nie Mingjue to walk ahead of him with the ease of a storybook prince. Nie Mingjue, feeling quite like he was moments from heart failure, knowing he was not a delusional man and there is no way to misinterpret what had just happened—Nie Mingjue swallowed it all down, and led the way.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It rained on his little brother’s wedding day.

The world did not end. The chaos did not slow. The first half of the day passed in an incomprehensible blur, scrambling between wedding and reception venues, keeping his brother on track and calm. Nie Mingjue didn’t know how he found the time to even get dressed into the fancy tailored suit his brother had talked him into. Nie Mingjue hated the way the bowtie felt but he loved the way his brother grinned when he saw him, a moment of reprieve from his panic, and he thought he could tolerate the fancy clothes for the rest of the day if it would ease his brother’s worries even for another moment more.

The rain didn’t even matter—Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng selected an indoor garden on top of a skyscraper for their vows, domed in like a greenhouse. There is a lotus pond and that, apparently, is why—it means something to Jiang Cheng, something like a family name and a symbol and the other things rich people have. And Nie Huaisang cared about Jiang Cheng, and he loved lotuses anyway, and it was an easy decision.

Nie Mingjue didn’t get a moment alone that morning to see the finished venue for himself, so he saw it walking his little brother down the aisle.

The music played, gentle harps. The colors of lavender and a soft gold swam in between the swaths of white, quiet suggestions of each of their favorite colors. The path is padded with a soft white fabric embroidered with lotuses. Ahead of them waits an arch filled with white flowers, and Nie Mingjue wished he knew the names so that he could buy them to plant for the rest of his life.

His brother was doing well until they turned the corner, and everyone stood. And then, he froze.

Nie Mingjue was shockingly calm. He had his little brother’s arm in his but he paused, taking the moment to reach for his hand. He squeezed Nie Huaisang’s hand and, when his brother finally looked up at him, he grinned down at him.

Slowly, like he was coming back to himself, Nie Huaisang grinned back. He squeezed Nie Mingjue’s hand back and took a very deep breath.

And then, they took another step.

Nie Mingjue walked his brother to Jiang Cheng who, despite probably denying it for the rest of his life, was crying. Nie Mingjue handed his brother off to the love of his life even when a little, petty part of him wanted to pull Nie Huaisang away—but he could have never done it anyway, not with the hopeful and grateful way Jiang Cheng was looking at him.

Nie Huaisang took Jiang Cheng’s hand, and turned away from Nie Mingjue.

It is a bittersweet moment, as he hovered between one moment and the next. His brother was already smiling up at his soon-to-be husband, and Jiang Cheng was grinning back like this was the best moment of his entire life—and Nie Mingjue was a handful of steps away, on the outside looking in.

He suspended himself in that moment for a singular second. Just long enough to say goodbye.

And then, he let his brother go.

Nie Mingjue sat in the seat saved for him, front row on the aisle on Nie Huaisang’s side. He watched the whole ceremony without letting his emotions show, not when they exchanged vows or when they gave each other their rings or when they kissed, tears pouring down his little brother’s face even as he grinned his way through them. He didn’t show a hint of his emotions as Jiang Cheng whisked his little brother down the aisle and into the rest of their lives.

Not a single emotion—until Nie Huaisang turned back.

He turned back like he did in kindergarten, or first grade, or pretty much every year after that, looking for his big brother in the crowd. Nie Huaisang caught his eye—and grinned, tear-stained cheeks and joy written into every line of his face.

Nie Mingjue grinned back. His brother turned away for the final time.

And tears rolled down Nie Mingjue’s face.

He hadn’t ever cried in front of people in his entire life, but he couldn’t help it this time—they fell before he could stop them, before he was even aware that he was about to cry at all. He put his hand over his face and tried to breathe through them as everyone around him cheered and applauded and shouted as Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng whisked themselves away from their wedding ceremony, married at last.

Nie Mingjue had never felt more alone in his life. He’d never felt more alive.

He let his hand fall and laughed at himself. He shook his head, wiping the tears away. He didn’t want his little brother to see them even if he knew he wasn’t going to turn back around, even though he was already far enough away that Nie Mingjue knew he wouldn’t.

Nie Mingjue watched his little brother walk away until they disappeared around the corner Nie Mingjue had taken his brother around mere minutes ago.

And just like that, his little brother was married.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The reception began later, long enough that Nie Mingjue lost the stupid bow tie into a trash can and he actually had a minute to talk to Nie Zonghui, who gave him a smirk so knowing that Nie Mingjue knew he saw him crying, but he didn’t bring it up. Nie Mingjue got stopped by enough strangers congratulating him on the wedding that he wondered, briefly, if Nie Huaisang sent people his picture and put them up to it. It felt like a decade before he made it to the elevator and, at least, when he does, it’s almost empty.

Except for a newly familiar face.

“We meet again,” Lan Xichen said with his normal smile. He looked dashing in a light blue suit, dark blue tie, and his hair combed back. Nie Mingjue thought he might actually stop breathing for a moment. “Incredible ceremony. Your brother did well.”

Nie Mingjue swallowed back whatever feeling was building in his throat and said, “He’ll be happy Jiang Cheng didn’t run for the hills.”

“As if that was ever a possibility.”

Nie Mingjue made a doubtful noise.

Lan Xichen grinned over at him. “You really have mixed feelings about him.”

“I like him,” Nie Mingjue admitted, because he knew that they both knew that.

“I feel the same way about Wei Ying, sometimes,” Lan Xichen admitted as the doors opened on the ground floor, freeing Nie Mingjue from a space that felt far too small. Lan Xichen gestured for Nie Mingjue to exit first and said to his back, “It’s that ‘you’re stealing my brother’ feeling.”

“Huaisang has always been a free spirit.”

“But he was yours,” Lan Xichen replied with so much understanding that Nie Mingjue swallowed back the retort on the tip of his tongue. He hated how much he’s right. 

It was getting a little too real. Nie Mingjue led the way out of the lobby so he wouldn’t have to look Lan Xichen in the eye. Nie Mingjue was a lot of things, but he was starting to think a coward was one of them.

He opened the door for Lan Xichen. And paused.

It was raining.

He knew it was raining—they could hear it through the ceremony, and he had to listen to his brother prattle on hysterically about it all morning. Still, he stared out into it like he’d never seen rain before in his life. He sighed, wondering how much this rental was going to cost once he got it drenched in the block walk between the ceremony spot and the reception venue.

He was in the middle of deciding to make a run for it when an umbrella opened up over his head. He turned, surprised, to find Lan Xichen holding a clear umbrella that seemed built for multiple. Nie Mingjue raised his eyebrows and Lan Xichen smiled sheepishly.

“An old habit,” he explained, “built in by my uncle.”

Nie Mingjue figured this man must be formidable—Lan Xichen had mentioned him enough times to suggest so, at least. Nie Mingjue, who lived in the shadow of his overbearing father for years before he died, was pretty sure he knew a thing or two about that.

Nie Mingjue almost refused. But then he thought of the friendliness in Lan Xichen’s smile, and his brother’s suggestive smirks, and he thought, Why the hell not? What would it hurt, to feel something a little real?

So, he stepped under the umbrella. Surprise flitted across Lan Xichen’s face before smoothing out into another smile, this one a little different than the others. They stepped out onto the street. The rain hit the umbrella.

Nie Mingjue thought, for not the first time, about storms.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The reception was everything Nie Mingjue hoped it would be, and everything he hated about his little brother’s new world. The reception room was dripping in splendor, diamond chandeliers and golden accents. The flower arrangements that his brother had him doing last night sat at every place setting, and Nie Mingjue reluctantly admitted to himself that it did add a good pop of color and personality to the white china settings. The flower arrangements in the center of the table probably cost more than Nie Mingjue’s entire house. He was grateful, for not the first time, that he didn’t have to pay for half of this thing, and that the Jiang family wouldn’t hear a word of it even when he kept offering.

Nie Mingjue did pay, though, for the open bar. That seemed to be a hit.

He was on his second beer of the night when the tone of the venue changed, when the honest-to-god emcee called for their attention and directed them to the door in order to present the new couple. He held his breath as the doors opened, and his brother walked through.

Nie Huaisang was beaming, changed into a linen white shirt and deep purple pants. Jiang Cheng was wearing the same shirt but with dark golden pants, a reverse of their favorite colors. Symbolic, Nie Mingjue thought. A little cheesy, but that was his brother through and through.

The two had their first dance to a song Nie Mingjue didn’t know, but he bit back his tears anyway. After the song, everyone else was invited to join, and Nie Mingjue picked his way back to the bar instead. He had a few sorrows to drown.

He’s barely a sip in when Lan Xichen joined him again.

“Not dancing?” Lan Xichen asked him but with the humor of someone that didn’t actually expect him to dance at all. Lan Xichen sat down on the stool next to him, prim and proper in his nice suit with nothing out of place. “Having any strong emotions yet?”

“Why do you think I’m drinking?”

Lan Xichen grinned. “I can’t drink—family thing, lightweights—but I think I’d be drinking anyway if I were you.”

“Now I know who I’ll need to babysit at your brother’s wedding.”

“Elopement, remember?” Lan Xichen teased. “If they haven’t already. God, I hope they haven’t. I should probably ask.”

He was so genuinely distressed that Nie Mingjue couldn't help but grin. He gestured for the bartender and told him, “Your finest water, please.”

Lan Xichen cracked up. Good. Nie Mingjue liked it when he laughed. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re hilarious?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said honestly. “Mostly I get ‘intense’ and ‘intimidating’.”

“Well,” Lan Xichen replied, “maybe a little bit of both of those, too. But it only makes you more interesting.”

See, here was the thing—Nie Mingjue was not an idiot. He knew he was getting flirted with, and he knew the signs when someone was into him. Nie Mingjue couldn’t lie to himself and pretend like Lan Xichen wasn’t exactly his type. They might be from different worlds and lives but Nie Mingjue knew that was far from a deal breaker. He knew that adults figured that kind of stuff out.

Nie Mingjue didn’t date much. He’d been asked on a lot of dates, and he’d even gone to some of them, but it had just never worked out. He had his brother, and then he didn’t have much of anything at all, and it made him feel empty enough that he didn’t want to bother with the effort. But his little brother was married now, and all of the second- and firsthand stress of the wedding was gone. And Nie Mingjue was left standing under the attention of a very attractive man, a few beers deep, and asking himself—why the hell not?

Nie Mingjue had always been simple about a lot of things. He can make this simple, too.

He set his beer down and asked Lan Xichen as he was mid-sip of his water, “Want to dance?”

Lan Xichen choked a little bit. He even managed to make that look graceful. “Oh,” he said, and then grinned. “Oh.”

“I figured I was reading the signs right.”

“You were,” Lan Xichen confirmed. “I just didn’t think you’d follow them.”

Nie Mingjue thought he might be blushing, but he hoped his poker face would cover it. By the grin on Lan Xichen’s face, he was pretty sure it didn’t.

Lan Xichen set his water down with purpose. He stood from his stool and offered his hand out to Nie Mingjue. “Would you care to dance?”

Nie Mingjue, a little less refined, downed the rest of his beer before standing. “I would. Don’t bow.”

“I am trying to be charming.”

“You’re charming enough.”

Lan Xichen laughed again. Nie Mingjue thought, for not the first time, that it might be easy to fall in love with this man.

“I don’t live around here,” Nie Mingjue reminded him as they stepped onto the dance floor. “I don’t come around here often, either.”

“I have a car,” Lan Xichen assured him, pulling him closer. A slow song was playing, and Nie Mingjue was pretty sure he could feel no less than twelve pairs of eyes on him. He put his hands on Lan Xichen’s waist. Lan Xichen wrapped his arms around Nie Mingjue’s neck.

From over Lan Xichen’s shoulder, he saw Wei Ying’s mouth drop, and he immediately started nudging at his partner. Nie Mingjue looked away. “I’m not the easiest guy to get along with.”

“I highly doubt that.” Lan Xichen thought for a moment. “I have a lot of family responsibilities.”

“That isn’t a bad thing.”

“It might occupy a lot of my time.”

“I have time.”

Lan Xichen smiled. “You’re better at this than you realize.”

“Maybe I am a closet romantic.”

“I knew it,” Lan Xichen said, pressing closer. Nie Mingjue liked the way his waist felt under his hands, the way his body moved with the beat. “We’ll start with a date, at least, at a location where our brothers are not.”

“My brother is likely to follow with a fake mustache no matter where we go.”

“My brother would give us space,” Lan Xichen decides, “but his partner is unlikely to.”

“I’ll put ten dollars on them already being married.”

“I don’t think it’s a bet when I’m starting to agree.”

Nie Mingjue squeezed his waist, and tried desperately not to notice the way it made Lan Xichen shiver. “I can make us dinner. Whatever you want.”

“Vegetarian,” Lan Xichen managed, nudging a little closer. “You can cook? I should have known.”

“I spend a lot of time alone.”

Lan Xichen’s voice was lower when he admitted, “I do too.”

“This is a little crazy, isn’t it?” Nie Mingjue asked, because he was starting to feel a little out of his mind. One song had ended and the other began, a song with a lighter beat, but they were still slow dancing in the middle of the floor. “We only just met each other, but—” He didn’t know how to continue.

Lan Xichen understood. “I think this is how connections happen all the time,” he teased, “but yes. It’s a little crazy how—everything it is.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t know how to say it, and didn’t want to say it unless he sounded crazy, but there hadn’t ever been a moment in his life that felt so perfect, so easy, so normal. Nie Mingjue had never believed in things like soulmates, believed instead that people are the ones who put in the work and not some kind of red string, but he couldn’t help but to wonder about this. It felt a little bit like destiny, having met this man.

Nie Mingjue might be a bit of a romantic, but he has never believed in destiny before. He had seen hints of it in other people but he never thought the universe might throw him a boon like that. Nie Mingjue has had to tirelessly work for everything he has.

But this was easy. This was simple.

Nie Mingjue wanted to drown in it.

See, there’s this thing about love that Nie Mingjue has always believed—it was a little bit like a storm. A hurricane, a monsoon, a tempest. Love was a controlled, natural chaos that tears up trees and feeds the flowers. It was rough and wild and real. It was something that should be feared, just a little. It was something he thought he understood, at least at the surface level.

He had never believed in destiny. He still didn’t. But he thought there might be something in how easy it was with this man. He hoped it might mean less lonely nights in the farmhouse. He thought it might mean something like companionship, a best friend. He wondered if this would be everything he has ever wanted or if it would crash and burn.

He thought it might be an adventure to find out. A storm he would happily weather.

He said, “I don’t even have your phone number.”

“I’m not disappearing in a pumpkin,” Lan Xichen reminded him, smiling. “I’ll give it to you.”

“It’s a long drive.”

“That won’t stop me.”

“I can’t convince you out of this, can I?”

“Nope,” Lan Xichen replied happily.

Nie Mingjue felt a lightness in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time. Lan Xichen was warm under his hands. His smile was beautiful. And he was looking at Nie Mingjue like he was something worth smiling at, someone that he would even consider sharing the rest of his life with.

Nie Mingjue was a goner. He was falling before he even knew falling in half-steps at his brother’s wedding was even an option.

Lan Xichen said, mischievously, “I think we have an audience.”

Nie Mingjue followed his gaze. Found his little brother staring at them with a big grin on his face. When he noticed Nie Mingjue looking at him, he shot them both a thumbs up. Jiang Cheng did the same.

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes and turned back to Lan Xichen. “They’re nonnegotiable.”

“Good,” Lan Xichen said. “I like having a big family.”

Nie Mingjue thought the song might have ended again. The whole world could have ended for all he cared. “Presumptive.”

“I’m a dreamer.” Lan Xichen grinned. “We can stop dancing whenever you want to, by the way. I think our song ended ten minutes ago.”

Nie Mingjue grinned back. “One more song.”

It turned into three more, and then five. Eventually they broke off of the dance floor only because it was starting to feel like overkill to sway when the whole world was spinning anyway, their minds racing with all of the questions they wanted to ask each other and all of the lightning strikes of the future they could follow. Nie Mingjue nursed two more beers as the hours ticked away, and Lan Xichen matched him laughingly in water, and they talked about anything that wasn’t weddings or brothers, matching their doubts with dismissals and their hopes with wildflowers.

They stayed long enough for the lights to come back on, to be one of the last witnesses to see Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang dance to their final song. Nie Huaisang cried one more time but he was smiling wide when he did. And, just like that, the wedding was over.

They end up outside. The storm had stopped, the night sky rolling in with gentle stars through the light pollution of the city Nie Mingjue was slowly growing fond of. Lan Xichen hovered near his elbow, neither of them wanting to say goodnight first. Nie Mingjue squinted at the city lights. Lan Xichen, he discovered when he glanced over at him, was looking at him.

Nie Mingjue grinned. Lan Xichen smiled back.

“I have a hotel room,” Nie Mingjue said, and then realized how it sounded and backpedaled: “I mean, for a movie. Or another drink, or we could talk in the lobby. I didn’t mean—”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen said, taking his hand. His fingers fit perfectly between Nie Mingjue’s. “A movie, maybe. Food.”

“Food,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Breakfast?”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen said emphatically, and laughed at himself.

So Nie Mingjue tugged him away, deeper into the city he barely knew, pointing them in the direction of something resembling home. He would do anything this man asked, and the least he could do was keep the night going, feeding this frenetic energy between them. Nie Mingjue was not an idealist but he had a feeling this one was going to last. Nie Mingjue was not a romantic, except that he was, and he had a feeling this one was going to be for forever.

But, for tonight, they could start with breakfast.