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࿐
lan huan
In spite of his nature, Lan Huan loved the summer months in Gusu. Even when the summer heat reached the mountain top, a soft wind kept them cool, and their rivers were icy and clear. When soaking in the water, he could see shoals of fishes pass him by, the sun against his wings. After months of snow and teaching, the same old conversations with his uncle and distracting himself by flying towards his partners and staying there for the night, the change was welcome.
He’d extended an invitation to his own brother, who called this place home as much as he did, not sure if he’d actually come. He knew Wangji loved the snowy mountain tops, and that he had even more eye for the rustling of the leaves than he did, yet he’d been reluctant to return.
To say Lan Huan had worried about Wangji through the years was an understatement. He doubted that Wangji knew how his silent treatment made other people feel, but it made him worry endlessly about his brother living a lonely life. Alone like he’d been in Gusu, not bothering to reply to kids asking him to play. Alone like he’d been returning from high school; leaving behind his only friend without ever mentioning him again. His was uncle happier for it, but Lan Huan couldn’t help but feel a weight lift off his chest when Wangji had called him saying he’d been back at Wei Wuxian’s house. Then, even more so seeing him lovingly taking care of Wei’s dragon cub, and, not long after, absolutely delighted when his brother called and declared: “We’re coming over for the summer holiday.”
He barely found himself surprised as the phone was grabbed by someone with a bright voice adding “Thank you so much for the invitation Lan Xichen! A-Yuan is looking forward to learning how to fly in Gusu. Please give you uncle my regards.” and a child had hollering excitedly “Flying!”
A-Yuan looked, in spite of his dark wings, just like A-Zhan growing up. Yet when he thought of his baby brother all he could see was worried eyes, confusion, all the mourning in the world stuck in this one small body. A-Yuan had lived his short life with similar losses, but Wei Wuxian had been able to give him the worryless life that his uncle had never been able to give them. Lan Xichen couldn’t help but think of the small Lan Zhan and let it pull on his heartstrings.
His brother had never replied as fast as he did now, when Lan Huan asked for pictures of A-Yuan, and something about that made his heart settle.
His brother had, somehow, gotten a family in all his silence.
It wasn’t that he had wanted his brother to change his silence, per se, it was just that he hadn't expected him to get everything he wanted without ever asking for it. Or, worse, while shutting down and pushing everyone away.
Now, as Wangji walked uphill with a kid sitting on his shoulders, he realised that maybe he’d worried too much. Wangji was no longer a kid, in pain because his wings were too heavy. Where Wei Yuan’s wings were small, yet almost a proper set, they hung tiredly onto Wangji’s own blue ones — sleepy from their travels — and he couldn’t help but feel that Wangji could carry everything for them. The black of the cub’s wings clashed with the light blue ones they were leaning onto, yet they seemed impossibly similar. Wangji was holding onto his kid tightly, well aware that the small boy was nodding off.
Lan Huan felt the weight of his own wings pull at him, the years they started growing, the way he wished his mother or father would have taught him how to fly, but all they’d done was fight and pull away until they passed away. His mother would have been able to, but she only caressing his wings when he visited her and apologised. Her soft voice saying you’ll grow up so strong. Telling him to take care of Wangji once he started growing his own.
As if he would ever leave his baby brother to fend for himself. His slightly dark blue wings were as heavy as the weight of keeping his brother near, talking, safe. For the longest time, he’d felt like that was what he was meant to do.
Now, next to Wangji, Wei Wuxian was waving excitedly at him. He was carrying a big bag full of their stuff, his hair a mess from the car they’d driven in for hours before arriving. A small family could not fly all the way to Gusu; so they’d flown the last bit to the top and parked the car at a halfway point. Lan Huan was not fooled by Wei Wuxian’s lack of wings or hybrid form; he was not out of touch enough to have never heard of the man’s genius and, back in high school, his mischief.
Their uncle could be as disappointed as he wanted to, at Wangji’s choice in his first crush, first friend, first love, first family — Lan Huan would never have the same sentiment.
“Let me grab that from you!” He took Wei Wuxian’s bags from his hands.
“Thanks! Don’t tell your uncle I’m here,” Wei Wuxian joked. “He’ll send me away before A-Yuan can change his mind by being the best kid.”
Lan Huan couldn’t help but smile, turning to A-Yuan. “Are you now?”
A-Yuan, in his turn, just nodded. “A-die said so.”
Lan Zhan reached up to caress his hair. “You are to us.”
Had they ever been as happy as this family Wangji had created? He wasn’t sure he’d seen him smile like this, not even as a child full of wonder. “I’m sure he’ll be convinced without a problem, then.” He glanced at his brother and added: “I assumed you’d want to stay in the jinshi?”
“Mhm.”
Lan Huan nodded. “I already brought another bed for A-Yuan. Please go relax.”
“Mhm.”
“Thank you, Lan Xichen!” Wei Wuxian looked at A-Yuan — and perhaps at Wangji too — and nodded towards him. Scolding them sweetly like only a father could. A soft “Thank you, Uncle Xichen,” was added. And then, even softer. A “Mhm,” he’d come to know as agreement.
࿔
Wei Ying
Lan Zhan was being quiet. More quiet than he was when they were in their home.
He guessed that he knew why, even if it was just bits and pieces. “Lan Zhan,” he sang, softly.
A-Yuan had fallen asleep on the big bed, tired from traveling. Lan Zhan had made them both a cup of tea, familiar with the small kitchen of the jinshi, and had sat down on the veranda. He overlooked the garden, slightly overgrown and lively as if it was merely spring, instead of the middle of summer. Wei Ying was used to the heat in the lotus pier, but he wouldn’t complain about the soft breeze in these mountain tops. It had been… a while, since he’d actually gone away.
He caressed the side of Lan Zhan’s head, letting his fingers comb through his soft hair. Lan Zhan closed his eyes, leaned into the touch. “You can tell me,” Wei Ying said, softly.
“I am alright.”
“But?”
Lan Zhan opened his eyes. “I am not quite sure.”
“Okay… let’s think together, then. Are you tired?” Lan Zhan shrugged. “Nostalgic? Sad? Bad memories? Good lost ones? Worried?”
Lan Zhan shook his head softly.
“Overcome with happiness?” he joked.
Lan Zhan huffed, then whispered: “Perhaps?”
“Really?” Wei Ying perked up. He didn’t want to fill in Lan Zhan’s feelings for him; but he didn’t seem all too overcome with happiness. “How so?”
Lan Zhan turned to him, and seemed to think. At times like this, Wei Ying had a hard time not interrupting him. It just, sometimes, felt like he took three to five business days to get a thought towards his mouth. “I— I am happy with the both of you here.”
Wei Ying reached out and grabbed his hand.
“This was my mother’s house,” he softly added.
“Oh.”
“Mhm.” he squeezed Wei Ying’s fingers, and seemed to think some more. “I do not only have happy memories here, but it is home.”
“Ah, so it’s like that. Lan Zhan, I get it.”
Lan Zhan nodded, then added: “I am grateful, but I will not let my uncle teach A-Yuan the way he taught me. Towards him, I am grateful, but I have become someone myself.”
At that, Wei Ying couldn’t help but grin brightly. He remembered Lan Zhan, the first time they’d had a class together; rigid and convinced that all rules were absolute. He remembered how nervous Lan Zhan had been, trying out new things for the first time. It had taken weeks of convincing for him to even try a type of tea that his uncle looked down on.
“Lan Zhan, I like you a lot.” He ended up answering. “I like what you took from your home and I like the way you grew up into yourself. Like everything about you.”
Lan Zhan slowly turned to him, a soft look in his eyes. He leaned in, a little.
He took this chance to move even closer, their noses almost touching as he mumbled, a small smile playing at his lips: “Like it when you break the rules for me.”
Lan Zhan looked at him, quietly surprised, keeping himself from pressing their lips together.
“Love it when you go all in for something. For us. You always do, y’know.. A baby with this guy from school? Let’s do it. So decisive, A-Zhan.”
“Mhm.”
“Er-gege.”
“Wei Ying.”
A warning, embarrassed and playful. “Yeah?”
“A-Yuan is inside.”
“Are you thinking about something that we can’t do with him here, then? My love?”
“You are—” he let out a frustrated breath. “Unbelievable.”
Wei Ying giggled. “I’m telling the truth, Lan Zhan. I like everything about you.” He leaned in and kissed Lan Zhan on his jaw. “Like it when you’re stubborn.” He kissed him on his earlobe. “Like it when you’re soft.” He kissed his neck. “Like you when you’re strong.” His cheek. “Lan Zhan—” He nuzzled his nose into his neck, then let his forehead rest against Lan Zhan’s jaw. “That you— that you would take me to your home, in spite of everything. You’re so— so— ”
Slowly, Lan Zhan wrapped his arms around him. His wings soon to follow, until the two of them were in their own safe little world. Lan Zhan kissed the top of his head in silence.
“Sorry,” Wei Ying mumbled. Not very sexy; getting emotional while trying to cheer Lan Zhan up. It was barely surprising that he was a mess.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan tightened his hold slightly. “Would not be a home if I couldn’t. Take you. You two, I mean.”
𓂃
Lan Qiren
Wangji’s little family was late for breakfast. The rice was getting cold, the room temperature was too warm, and he decided to wait with a cup of tea and a growling stomach. Summer in Gusu meant crickets and birds. He left his book and passed his time listening to them. Thinking.
Why Wangji decided to stay in the city was a mystery to him. A city with stone — or worse, asphalt — streets where all houses were too close together to spread wings. He’d have a better life, here in Gusu, he was convinced, but his nephew stayed away.
He was not excited to have his own nephew visit, but he was glad to have him back home.
With a kid. Not the kid Lan Qiren had been urging him to get, but an adopted Wen Cub. He frowned slightly and took a sip of his white tea. It was not an easy pick, not at all what he had thought. Wangji, he knew by now, tended to make these choices and stick to them.
At some point the quiet sounds of summer got interrupted by two voices outside and, eventually, by the door being thrown open. When Wei Wuxian and Wangji saw him, they both stopped in their tracks. Wei Wuxian at least had the thought to look apologetic about his loud voice, as he slowly leaned into a greeting bow.
“Unc—“ Wangji was interrupted when a small hand slipped from his hold and the child walked towards the breakfast table.
“Wow!” The kid called out, looking between the table and Wei Wuxian. “A-die, this is a lot of breakfast.”
It was a lot of breakfast. He’d told the cook that it was a special occasion.
Wei Wuxian scrambled after his son, mumbling something about being polite and greeting elders with a bow.
Wei Yuan seemed to think about that for a second. Then, eventually, asked: “Are you Lan Zhan’s A-die?”
Lan Qiren found himself looking up at his nephew; standing tall with wings bigger than his own or his brothers. His nephew who’d always been quiet, hard to understand. He looked at the small dragon in front of him and thought of Wangji, three years old and not able to cry because he’d never learned how to.
He was not his father but he’d seen more of his life than his father ever could. He had been less than prepared.
Wangji softly put his hand between the kid’s black horns and said: “Something like that.”
The cub, A-Yuan, looked at him, back at Wangji, then at him again very seriously. Open and curious eyes. Like that, he asked: “Can I call you grandpa?”
He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t help the clenching of his heart at these words.
A-Yuan appeared to be a lovely child; Xichen had told him as much. A happy one, in spite of his Wen roots. His wings were a dark black with grey tips and red scales. His horns too; black. His appearance should have been a wild contrast between everything in Gusu Lan, and yet those blue clothes seemed to fit fine and— and those eyes made him remember Wangji, a little older than A-Yuan.
Wangji sitting in the library and patiently asking him “what does this word say?” And then the next one, “What does this mean?” He remembered himself answering seriously, endlessly, until his nephew could read.
Wangji didn’t have many happy moments growing up, and while Lan Qiren knew he was not to blame for his sadness, he had perhaps not taken the responsibility as he’d wanted to. Now, looking at this child, he remembered Wangji had been happy, from time to time. The look in his eyes open and excited, much like this child’s.
Wei Wuxian, looking half awake and slightly stressed, hurried to answer for him: “A-Yua—”
“You may,” but he was faster.
Faster and old and ready for someone to call him that.
People sometimes had a prejudice about him; but he was not going to let some black horns and witch that he had never approved of stop him from trying again. Not from being a part of Wangji’s life. Not from seeing this boy for who he was; a wonderful child.
His family.
“Now sit down before everything gets cold.”
ᯓ
Lan Zhan
He sat in the open field with a book he was pretending to read. Glimpsing over the cover, he watched his uncle talk to A-Yuan clumsily. The summer breeze hit the high glass and wildflowers, making them flow towards one side and back. A-Yuan had shifted and his black wings were vibrant against the sun. His uncle’s wings were blue much like his brother’s— one of the only parts about him that had not gotten wrinkles.
During the morning Lan Qiren had given a starters class on dragons, shifting and flying. To Lan Zhan, this entire class was such a given that he was not sure he would have been able to explain it any better. His uncle had probably done so before, being a teacher, but Lan Zhan couldn’t help but be surprised by the sudden easy language, slow pace and repeats when A-Yuan did not nod along.
When Wei Ying had picked up on how undisclosed some of the shared information was, he’d quietly tried to get up to leave, but his uncle had stopped him. “This information is necessary for a dragon’s family.” Is what he’d said, waiting silently but with a fierce look until Wei Ying sat back down.
They’d moved to the fields, and A-Yuan had flown his first bit with the help of the three Lan dragons, and the support of Wei Ying’s loud cheering. His uncle had glanced at Wei Ying who was caught up in all his loudness and excitement, and then looked back at their cub. “Very good,” he’d mumbled. And it was true; A-Yuan had flown a good few ten first meters and even managed to make a turn before landing back into the soft grass. They’d watched him do this a few times, before his uncle started giving him feedback. At that point, the rest of them were promptly forgotten. Wei Ying stayed around a bit to watch, and then mentioned that he was going to go and see if he could swim in the river. His brother too went to do some work. And, in spite of Wei Ying’s convincing that A-Yuan would be fine, Lan Zhan had stayed.
To watch. From behind his book.
The thing was; his uncle explained everything with great care and a kindness Lan Zhan didn’t quite recognise. A-Yuan’s flying improved greatly in the hour he’d been watching and, even if he made a mistake or got loud in his excitement, his uncle stayed kind.
With every given moment, he felt more and more like the old teacher and his not quite grandchild were fine. They’d practise flying with the wind blowing in soft waves and the sun above them, with or without him.
“Uncle,” he found himself saying as he got up. “Do you need assistance?”
His uncle looked at him with a look telling him unnecessary — just because he’d never say what a stupid question — shook his head, and then added: “A-Yuan is a good student.”
A-Yuan looked at Lan Zhan and beamed proudly at that. Lan Zhan’s heart clenched; he’d grown to love the cub as his own child. This last half year, he’d lived as if that was the case; waking him up in the morning and eating breakfast together. Picking him up from day care. Staying home if A-Yuan was sick. Answering all his questions. Loving his dad. Wanting nothing more than to marry his dad and make their family official.
Maybe he was the strict one; not trusting that they would be fine.
Perhaps that had been his uncle’s reasoning too, at some point.
“A-Yuan. Will you be okay if I go? I will see you during lunch.”
“Okay,” A-Yuan waved, slightly, and then turned towards the field again to see if he could fly by catching more of the wind and flapping his wings less, which they had been working on for the last ten minutes.
“Alright.” He found himself saying softly, ignored by the both of them.
The path into the forest was a familiar one. He knew the trees, their thick trunks. He knew the path on which the sunlight shone its patterns through the leaves. He knew from which point he would be able to hear the river. What he didn’t know was the splashing that he heard, this time. The brightness that the sound of the love of his life brought.
He walked towards the river with sunlight and chill breezes alternating on his skin. When the river bed came into view, he saw Wei Ying just climbing out of the water, and, a second later, grinning up at him. He walked towards him like he was a magnet. A sunny, wonderful, sweet magnet.
Wei Ying, still completely wet from the river, came rushing towards him. He had a teasing smile on his lips, and, barefoot in the grass, grabbed a hold of his hands. Lan Zhan’s heart jumped, warmed. He couldn’t care less that Wei Ying dripped water onto him as he pulled him in for a kiss. He could even feel himself smile as Wei Ying jokingly pulled him into a hug, drenching his clothes completely.
When Lan Zhan stayed quiet, happy, he piped up: “C’mon— Lan Zhan, aren’t you going to scold me?”
“It’ll dry,” he answered.
Wei Ying grinned, chuckled. “Yeah?”
Lan Zhan felt the sun on his scales, his wings, and didn’t want anything more than to sink into the ice cold water. He’d done so before, in summers of his youth, but never had he played around in the water. Never before had he kissed with water droplets on the tip of his nose. “Yes.”
“Mhm—” Wei Ying took his face between his hands and spread cool water onto his cheeks. “Were they fine? I told you they would be.”
“Mhm. It’s… My uncle used to—” he didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t exactly know how to describe his uncle, as he’d been when he grew up himself. He hadn’t had an iron fist, per se, but Lan Zhan knew that some of the cold rigidness he disliked in himself had come from his uncle as an example.
Wei Ying nodded, slowly, as if to tell him that he didn’t have to explain himself. Then, he mumbled. “Maybe he’s just grown soft with old age.”
Maybe he had. Lan Zhan had been worried that traditional had meant unaccepting of the people he loved. He’d held a grudge, when his uncle had spoken of his prejudice towards Wei Ying. When Lan Huan had urged him to come around more often, Lan Zhan had mostly ignored it.
Wei Ying smiled at him, pressed a kiss to his jaw. Letting him know that he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to. With his lips half against him, he whispered: “You want to swim?” Then, before he could answer, Wei Ying slowly pushed his fingers behind Lan Zhan’s waistband and pushed his pants down. Lan Zhan huffed, amused, as his pants got stuck at his ankles. Carefully, he kicked off his shoes.
“We haven’t been alone in a while.” Wei Ying’s voice sent shivers through his chest. He unbuttoned his blouse, the wetness of Wei Ying’s hands cool against his skin. When he was down to his underwear, he let Wei Ying lead him into the water he’d swam in a thousand times, but that had never felt so sweet against his skin.
The water rimpled as they sunk into it. He watched the shimmering of the water against the sun as if it was magic. Wei Ying made soft noises as if the water was suddenly too cold for him, a look on his face that could be read as nothing else than loving.
He was loved, here as much as he was back in their home.
His wings felt lighter in the water, carried by the flow. He let his voice be carried over the water. “Wei Ying, come here.”
Wei Ying grinned at him, and then dipped underneath the water to swim towards him. When he came back up, Wei Ying was barely half a meter from him; his hair completely wet and water dripping off his lashes and the tip of his nose. Lan Zhan grabbed a hold of his hip and pulled him in. Slowly, he let their noses touch. Wei Ying’s soft and cold lips found his, opened against him.
They kissed slowly, as if they were suddenly aware that this was their first holiday together. Nothing would hurry them. Wei Ying’s hand was warm against his ribs as he caressed him. The water drops on Wei Ying’s nose stuck to his, tingling his skin sweetly.
When he pulled back, just slightly, the sun reflected against the water on Wei Ying’s skin, making him shine like the bright boy he’d always been. A cool summer breeze passed them.