Ah? How can I make my husband take the floor in his own home? [Wei Wuxian leans against Lan Zhan's shoulder.
In another life, he would have been ecstatic to see the inside of the home of the Second Jade of Lan, moreso when he's invited in. But he has to temper himself, or else Lan Zhan might not like it, might force himself to do something just to keep Wei Wuxian happy.]
Lan Zhan... do you want to share a bed with me, yes or no?
[A sincere question, a look of trepidation on his face.]
( Must you ask so? But then, he knows Wei Ying's truth, knows too that Lan Wangji's own shameful dithering and later revelation have pressed unto him the need for crude clarity.
The child, at least, pays them minimal attention. Between the effort of the road and the warmth of Lan Wangji's quarters, he's curled up abed, flirting with somnolence. Pretty boy. Their undeserved miracle.
Lan Wangji's gaze returns to Wei Ying, soft. )
Yes. ( And he comes close, closer still, hands cupping Wei Ying's face, his cheeks, as he leans in silently. ) May I?
( What he pledged: on arrival. )
happy new year! i hope this year will be good to you
[Wei Wuxian knows what Lan Zhan is saying-- and then what he's asking.
And he promptly forgets that he shouldn't be pawing at the sleeves of a reticent, almost shy man.]
Yes. [An immediate yes, almost enthusiastically so. The only reason he doesn't yell it loud enough to wake the ancestors is because he doesn't want to wake up the descendants-- particularly the little boy near their feet who is close to dropping off for an impromptu nap. Like the baby he still is, all curled up.]
Yes, yes, yes. I have been waiting for this. Dreaming about it. Lan Zhan--
[He leans his body against his husband's, ready for the promised kiss.]
( Waiting, dreaming. At the very least, once hyperbole has been aptly stripped away — approving of the possibility. Lan Wangji's mouth is a soft thing, only melting further.
A testament of his own weakness, that he steals glances where the child yet slips before trickling closer and closer, hands gentle as they frame Wei Ying's sides. He dips in, and his mouth chases a line first on Wei Ying's forehead, then his eyelids, then his lips, his honeyed lips.
A chaste kiss, kindly. A welcome that doesn't overwhelm, but greets with affection. He suspects this will suit them both. )
[When he feels Lan Zhan's lips flutter all over his face, like the feathers of a bird or the petals of a flower, Wei Wuxian has to cut a squeal short to not ruin the moment. Instead he remains uncharacteristically still until Lan Zhan's journey is over... and he gives a dopey little smile, as if he's drunk in a way that alcohol couldn't do to him when he still had his golden core, and had more wine than tea in his veins.]
Hello, husband.
[It's not the sense-destroying kiss as described in many a yellow book, but it is sweet, a greeting instead of a declaration of amorous intent. Wei Wuxian can accept that, because it's the kind of kiss he remembers his parents sharing.
Soft, gentle, loving. Full of laughter, adventure, and a child that gets underfoot. He can pretend that this relationship is like theirs.]
I missed you. [He cups Lan Zhan's cheek, stroking a thumb over one perfectly-shaped cheek.] I've been thinking about you for the whole week.
( At least, in this, they're honest: mouths tender, hands kind. They come together like children and break apart like friends, and if passion withholds itself — it's because so often Lan Wangji suspects he would unravel if restraint ever cracked, ever gave way.
But then, Wei Ying's sweet confession startles him, gaze diffused, questions inevitable. He intends no harm, but hears it in his own voice, chilled, before the words have fled him. )
...why? ( No. Too cold, even to his own ear. Recalibrate. ) You did not, before.
( If anything, Wei Ying seemed of a mind to think of anything but Lan Wangji, prior. )
[There. There's that first hint of distance, how Lan Zhan pulls away from him emotionally. Now that he knows that Lan Zhan does it to him, he thinks he can find it.
However, Wei Wuxian has no idea how to soothe Lan Zhan, or how to prevent that kind of reaction. All he can do is talk.]
Things have changed, Lan Zhan. We got married, didn't we?
And... [A pause as he pushes his hair from his shoulder. He hasn't replaced the red ribbon that he gave to Lan Zhan, and he'll just have to live with his hair fully unbound for the rest of his life.] You gave me something to look forward to.
[Something other than the next potential invention to fill pages and pages of notes, something other than another day of worry about where their next meal will come from, or what else they can grow on soil that resists life.]
( And has marriage made better men of them? Different? Has marriage turned Lan Wangji into a palatable version of himself that Wei Ying may deign to accept into his life, willing?
Certainly, his friend — his husband — suggests so. And for all Lan Wangji questions the sudden optimism and enthusiasm, he cannot help but indulge in it, gratefully nodding along with Wei Ying's explanation. Something to look forward to, in a world so cruel it has stripped him of his rank, his war merits, his achievements as a cultivator, his reputation...
...even his ribbon, hair drifting forlornly on a back hunger has starved small. It is for Lan Wangji to break away now, bound for his single vanity table, where hair ointment and bath salts keep the company of a scant few adornments.
The pick isn't shocking — Wei Ying's red ribbon stands out. )
Wear it whilst here. We shall purchase you one new from Caiyi. ( And before Wei Ying may object: ) A wedding gift.
Oh. [Wei Wuxian takes it in hand-- even if it's simple, it looks delicate. Pretty. As befitting someone of the main Lan bloodline.
He feels like it should smoke and turn a horrible soot black in his hands, even if he's handling it with just the tips of his fingers, like it's one of those silver needles meant to detect poison.
Instead, he wrenches his eyes away from it and gathers part of his hair, winding it and the pick together into a quick bun. Half of his hair up, half still down.]
What do you think? Do I still look as dashing as usual?
( As dashing. No. Better. Prettier, in ways Lan Wangji hardly cares to mention, wholly and infectiously enamoured. Wei Ying enthrals him, pedestrian in his appearance, but wholly, insurmountably desirable all the same.
To glimpse him is to want him (here and there and close). Lan Wangji wants, and his desire is too obvious, too plain, too human when his hands reach out to tease a few stray hairs trickling down from Wei Ying's hairstyle and drive them back up, behind his ear. Pretty. )
Married women wear their hair up.
( But then, Wei Ying is presumably a bride, but not a woman, for all he claims to have born a child. Biology and sense need not align in this. )
[Constantly craving even scraps of a connection, Wei Wuxian tilts his head, leaning into Lan Zhan's hand and trying to nuzzle his fingers.]
Does my husband want me to wear my hair up, then? [If Lan Zhan says yes... Wei Wuxian may have to turn him down because putting his hair up in those updos every day would be too much effort, especially with how wild it is. Plus, he would rather not have to deal with the constant pulling on his scalp.
( For a moment, he calculates, classifies: what answer does Wei Ying want of him? How can Lan Wangji best deliver it? Hair up, so that Wei Ying can enjoy the satisfaction of showing his obedience, of earning approval? But then, Wei Ying does not thrive off rules-based submission.
If he asks, it's to signal objection. If he asks - just as Lan Wangji's fingers dip down, departing - it's because he wants an alternative.
Lan Wangji can give him that. )
You're not a woman. ( Not so sweet, so careful, so bound. Let Wei Ying have what relief he can of and through this. )
Hmm. [Not a definite answer-- Lan Zhan is putting the burden of that decision in Wei Wuxian's hands. A bit unfair, when Lan Zhan was the one to mention it, as if he's the one who wanted to see it...
He did want to see it, right?]
As a treat for you, I'll do it on occasion-- but only for you. [Not now, of course, when he doesn't have the resources to keep his hair up, nor the prior grooming. Already he's dreading the amount of time he has to spend combing and oiling after a bath.
[That makes Wei Wuxian pause. Dinner with everyone, like the other disciples, the seniors his age and older, Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren, who likely remember him from Sunshot and before, and the juniors who likely have heard the tall tales and believe them?
He doesn't want to be looked at. Speaking during meals may be prohibited, but gawking is not, and there's nothing stopping anyone from talking after.
He doesn't want to put off anyone from their meal either.
Once upon a time, when he started this whole venture, he didn't give a damn about his reputation, he just knew the righteous path-- save the Wens, destroy the camp. That's still the righteous path, and he won't be swayed from it because he refuses to let innocents die... but he also has A-Yuan. He has Lan Zhan. They're in the Cloud Recesses.
He can't act out here, not without endangering either of them.]
Maybe not in the hall with everyone else. You should take A-Yuan though, let him meet other children his age. I'll have to get him cleaned and changed first-- I should have done that before he insisted on this unscheduled nap. Nothing's worse than sleeping when you're grubby and then waking up to soiled sheets. [Then he sits by the little nest the boy has made in his blankets.]
( Instructions for him,for Yuan. Truly, Wei Ying once served upon a battlefield. Lan Wangji cannot deny him, cannot presume, and yet —
He finds himself for the first time in their evening at odds with Wei Ying, even as he permits him to take custody of the child in his untroubled nook.
A fair strategy for their evening, yes. Barring the inevitable brief divorce of an allegedly fresh couple. No. Lan Wangji has allowed much, but not this. )
Zewu-Jun and Uncle both enjoy children. Yuan may be introduced to the infant disciples by them. ( A pause, then: ) Or eat here, beside us.
[He pauses, thinking about that. He really doesn't want to hamper Yuan's growth, and asking Lan Zhan and the child to have dinner with him here might do that... But also.
Eating alone is terribly lonely.
He hates being lonely, one of the reasons why he latched so hard onto this marriage despite the lack of romance or courting, despite the illusions that they are a proper couple.]
Would they be willing to take him tomorrow? He can't spend the entire week attached to our legs, he needs other children too.
( They are negotiating, he suspects, if not with each other, then with themselves. Like Lan Wangji, Wei Ying too seems unwilling to contemplate an outcome that doesn't see a-Yuan enjoying the better part of his stay in pristine conditions.
Selfishly, Lan Wangji has already had the handful of days to strategise to ensure that while maximising Wei Ying's and his time together in some degree of passable privacy. He hesitates, then: )
Shall ask. ( The answer known, but still he performs the protocol to summon then send across a butterfly with the appropriate solicitation. ) The infant disciples here also share a dormitory. If he wishes time alongside his peers.
( To play, he needn't say, because the sect prefers the conceit that, surely, their very own fledgling youths never indulge in the indignity of leisure time. )
[Wei Wuxian wants to pat Yuan's hair, but doesn't out of fear of waking him. He looks like he's having a good sleep, and he's loathe to ruin that. He has better sleeping conditions than Wei Wuxian, for sure, but even a grandmother's love can't turn the Burial Mounds into a welcoming, warm place.]
We'll have to ask him that, in case he wants to crawl into bed with us at night. [Secretly, Wei Wuxian thinks that A-Yuan might, in such an unfamiliar place with only two familiar adults around. Children prefer the safety of what they know and who they know, and even if they adjust quickly to a new environment, the first night or so can be interrupted with crying and nightmares.]
Children his age like doing that, you know. Helps them feel safe. I won't be responsible for a little elbow in your face though!
( A little elbow. Please. As if Lan Wangji hasn't become intimately aware of the extent to which his title is as nothing to children, who scale, cling and coo on or at him without regret. He is grateful for their keen compassion to forgive his inability to engage them wholly.
Even now, though Yuan largely sleeps, Lan Wangji cannot help the burst of affection within his chest, to think of a creature so at ease in his home that he burrowed in to sleep, without qualm. It means more to him than to most. )
Then, he is invited. ( Better to embrace the inconvenience of a squirming, good-natured, jovial body than to begrudge it. )
[Wei Wuxian laughs softly, standing up to give Lan Zhan a hug in his amusement.]
Such a good father, an excellent father! [He may get jealous that Yuan seems to like Lan Zhan better than him... but his jealousy is nothing compared to Yuan's care. The two love each other, that's plain to see, and Lan Zhan is willing to give him everything he wants. That counts for more than Wei Wuxian's pointless little feelings.
After the hug is done, he leans against Lan Zhan's shoulder and smiles up at him.]
Save some of the spoiling for me, though. I don't want to be the responsible parent and do nothing but scold him. That doesn't suit me!
( Only, somehow, affirmative, accepting. No, the image of the strict, scolding parent does not suit Wei Ying — but Lan Wangji is somehow even less suited. They have managed to come together, two men rendered soft and tremble-lipped by the molten looks of children. And now they think they are equipped to father them. For shame.
Just as he prepares to put the point of their incompetence before Wei Ying, two sets of butterflies rush forward: Zewu-Jun's, then Uncle's, closely after. He receives them, humming his approval and instructing a message returned with thanks, before informing Wei Ying: )
They agree. ( A beat. ) Uncle suggests he is more suitable, having minded children. Zewu-Jun... anticipated the argument and reminds he too raised me.
[Wei Wuxian doesn't cackle, but it's a near thing.]
You know what I think?
We should let them fight. In that funny Lan way, the really passive-aggressive way where people just quote rules at each other or pretend to be really nice. [He loved watching those when he was still a guest disciple for the lectures, any time he wasn't getting up to mischief or being punished for said mischief. It's one of the times that he thinks the Lan rules may have merit, because the Lans make verbal sparring entertaining.
Watching two Lans go at it is better than watching street performers.]
It could keep A-Yuan entertained for a while, and help him figure out if he likes his father's older brother or uncle better.
( He startles, gaze wide, bright, nearly luminous. Staring at Wei Ying with rare conern, as if what he has spoken is — perhaps not untrue, but bordering on blasphemy.
...is this how Wei Ying sees them? Passive-aggressive, quick to resort to the rules as weapons, rather than mutual guidance toward virtue? Does he expect no better of Gusu Lan and its foremost leaders? Of course, Lan Wangji cannot demand he should sport kinder sentiments toward anyone, but to think of his own blood and flesh so reviled is a bitter, jarring thing. )
Hmmm? [Wei Wuxian looks up at him more closely, turning his head so he rests his chin on Lan Zhan's shoulder.]
You think they'll just decide who will take A-Yuan? Or will you decide for them?
Aiyah, all right, all right. [He won't get to see Lan Qiren and Zewu-jun face off! A shame!] I'm sure whoever you pick will do well and adore A-Yuan, anyway.
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In another life, he would have been ecstatic to see the inside of the home of the Second Jade of Lan, moreso when he's invited in. But he has to temper himself, or else Lan Zhan might not like it, might force himself to do something just to keep Wei Wuxian happy.]
Lan Zhan... do you want to share a bed with me, yes or no?
[A sincere question, a look of trepidation on his face.]
happy new year!
The child, at least, pays them minimal attention. Between the effort of the road and the warmth of Lan Wangji's quarters, he's curled up abed, flirting with somnolence. Pretty boy. Their undeserved miracle.
Lan Wangji's gaze returns to Wei Ying, soft. )
Yes. ( And he comes close, closer still, hands cupping Wei Ying's face, his cheeks, as he leans in silently. ) May I?
( What he pledged: on arrival. )
happy new year! i hope this year will be good to you
And he promptly forgets that he shouldn't be pawing at the sleeves of a reticent, almost shy man.]
Yes. [An immediate yes, almost enthusiastically so. The only reason he doesn't yell it loud enough to wake the ancestors is because he doesn't want to wake up the descendants-- particularly the little boy near their feet who is close to dropping off for an impromptu nap. Like the baby he still is, all curled up.]
Yes, yes, yes. I have been waiting for this. Dreaming about it. Lan Zhan--
[He leans his body against his husband's, ready for the promised kiss.]
and to you, friend!
A testament of his own weakness, that he steals glances where the child yet slips before trickling closer and closer, hands gentle as they frame Wei Ying's sides. He dips in, and his mouth chases a line first on Wei Ying's forehead, then his eyelids, then his lips, his honeyed lips.
A chaste kiss, kindly. A welcome that doesn't overwhelm, but greets with affection. He suspects this will suit them both. )
Hello.
♥
Hello, husband.
[It's not the sense-destroying kiss as described in many a yellow book, but it is sweet, a greeting instead of a declaration of amorous intent. Wei Wuxian can accept that, because it's the kind of kiss he remembers his parents sharing.
Soft, gentle, loving. Full of laughter, adventure, and a child that gets underfoot. He can pretend that this relationship is like theirs.]
I missed you. [He cups Lan Zhan's cheek, stroking a thumb over one perfectly-shaped cheek.] I've been thinking about you for the whole week.
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But then, Wei Ying's sweet confession startles him, gaze diffused, questions inevitable. He intends no harm, but hears it in his own voice, chilled, before the words have fled him. )
...why? ( No. Too cold, even to his own ear. Recalibrate. ) You did not, before.
( If anything, Wei Ying seemed of a mind to think of anything but Lan Wangji, prior. )
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However, Wei Wuxian has no idea how to soothe Lan Zhan, or how to prevent that kind of reaction. All he can do is talk.]
Things have changed, Lan Zhan. We got married, didn't we?
And... [A pause as he pushes his hair from his shoulder. He hasn't replaced the red ribbon that he gave to Lan Zhan, and he'll just have to live with his hair fully unbound for the rest of his life.] You gave me something to look forward to.
[Something other than the next potential invention to fill pages and pages of notes, something other than another day of worry about where their next meal will come from, or what else they can grow on soil that resists life.]
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Certainly, his friend — his husband — suggests so. And for all Lan Wangji questions the sudden optimism and enthusiasm, he cannot help but indulge in it, gratefully nodding along with Wei Ying's explanation. Something to look forward to, in a world so cruel it has stripped him of his rank, his war merits, his achievements as a cultivator, his reputation...
...even his ribbon, hair drifting forlornly on a back hunger has starved small. It is for Lan Wangji to break away now, bound for his single vanity table, where hair ointment and bath salts keep the company of a scant few adornments.
The pick isn't shocking — Wei Ying's red ribbon stands out. )
Wear it whilst here. We shall purchase you one new from Caiyi. ( And before Wei Ying may object: ) A wedding gift.
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He feels like it should smoke and turn a horrible soot black in his hands, even if he's handling it with just the tips of his fingers, like it's one of those silver needles meant to detect poison.
Instead, he wrenches his eyes away from it and gathers part of his hair, winding it and the pick together into a quick bun. Half of his hair up, half still down.]
What do you think? Do I still look as dashing as usual?
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To glimpse him is to want him (here and there and close). Lan Wangji wants, and his desire is too obvious, too plain, too human when his hands reach out to tease a few stray hairs trickling down from Wei Ying's hairstyle and drive them back up, behind his ear. Pretty. )
Married women wear their hair up.
( But then, Wei Ying is presumably a bride, but not a woman, for all he claims to have born a child. Biology and sense need not align in this. )
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Does my husband want me to wear my hair up, then? [If Lan Zhan says yes... Wei Wuxian may have to turn him down because putting his hair up in those updos every day would be too much effort, especially with how wild it is. Plus, he would rather not have to deal with the constant pulling on his scalp.
If Lan Zhan says no, then there's no problem.]
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If he asks, it's to signal objection. If he asks - just as Lan Wangji's fingers dip down, departing - it's because he wants an alternative.
Lan Wangji can give him that. )
You're not a woman. ( Not so sweet, so careful, so bound. Let Wei Ying have what relief he can of and through this. )
Do as you like.
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He did want to see it, right?]
As a treat for you, I'll do it on occasion-- but only for you. [Not now, of course, when he doesn't have the resources to keep his hair up, nor the prior grooming. Already he's dreading the amount of time he has to spend combing and oiling after a bath.
Then he claps his hands softly together.]
And only on special days!
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Better to remove himself, to nod and accept the concession and impress no further requests upon a man already thieved of so many of his choices. )
For me, on special days. ( But is their reunion in the home Wei Ying married into not one? Ah, no more of this. ) You journeyed long. Will you dine?
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He doesn't want to be looked at. Speaking during meals may be prohibited, but gawking is not, and there's nothing stopping anyone from talking after.
He doesn't want to put off anyone from their meal either.
Once upon a time, when he started this whole venture, he didn't give a damn about his reputation, he just knew the righteous path-- save the Wens, destroy the camp. That's still the righteous path, and he won't be swayed from it because he refuses to let innocents die... but he also has A-Yuan. He has Lan Zhan. They're in the Cloud Recesses.
He can't act out here, not without endangering either of them.]
Maybe not in the hall with everyone else. You should take A-Yuan though, let him meet other children his age. I'll have to get him cleaned and changed first-- I should have done that before he insisted on this unscheduled nap. Nothing's worse than sleeping when you're grubby and then waking up to soiled sheets. [Then he sits by the little nest the boy has made in his blankets.]
I will eat here.
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He finds himself for the first time in their evening at odds with Wei Ying, even as he permits him to take custody of the child in his untroubled nook.
A fair strategy for their evening, yes. Barring the inevitable brief divorce of an allegedly fresh couple. No. Lan Wangji has allowed much, but not this. )
Zewu-Jun and Uncle both enjoy children. Yuan may be introduced to the infant disciples by them. ( A pause, then: ) Or eat here, beside us.
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Eating alone is terribly lonely.
He hates being lonely, one of the reasons why he latched so hard onto this marriage despite the lack of romance or courting, despite the illusions that they are a proper couple.]
Would they be willing to take him tomorrow? He can't spend the entire week attached to our legs, he needs other children too.
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Selfishly, Lan Wangji has already had the handful of days to strategise to ensure that while maximising Wei Ying's and his time together in some degree of passable privacy. He hesitates, then: )
Shall ask. ( The answer known, but still he performs the protocol to summon then send across a butterfly with the appropriate solicitation. ) The infant disciples here also share a dormitory. If he wishes time alongside his peers.
( To play, he needn't say, because the sect prefers the conceit that, surely, their very own fledgling youths never indulge in the indignity of leisure time. )
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We'll have to ask him that, in case he wants to crawl into bed with us at night. [Secretly, Wei Wuxian thinks that A-Yuan might, in such an unfamiliar place with only two familiar adults around. Children prefer the safety of what they know and who they know, and even if they adjust quickly to a new environment, the first night or so can be interrupted with crying and nightmares.]
Children his age like doing that, you know. Helps them feel safe. I won't be responsible for a little elbow in your face though!
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Even now, though Yuan largely sleeps, Lan Wangji cannot help the burst of affection within his chest, to think of a creature so at ease in his home that he burrowed in to sleep, without qualm. It means more to him than to most. )
Then, he is invited. ( Better to embrace the inconvenience of a squirming, good-natured, jovial body than to begrudge it. )
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Such a good father, an excellent father! [He may get jealous that Yuan seems to like Lan Zhan better than him... but his jealousy is nothing compared to Yuan's care. The two love each other, that's plain to see, and Lan Zhan is willing to give him everything he wants. That counts for more than Wei Wuxian's pointless little feelings.
After the hug is done, he leans against Lan Zhan's shoulder and smiles up at him.]
Save some of the spoiling for me, though. I don't want to be the responsible parent and do nothing but scold him. That doesn't suit me!
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( Only, somehow, affirmative, accepting. No, the image of the strict, scolding parent does not suit Wei Ying — but Lan Wangji is somehow even less suited. They have managed to come together, two men rendered soft and tremble-lipped by the molten looks of children. And now they think they are equipped to father them. For shame.
Just as he prepares to put the point of their incompetence before Wei Ying, two sets of butterflies rush forward: Zewu-Jun's, then Uncle's, closely after. He receives them, humming his approval and instructing a message returned with thanks, before informing Wei Ying: )
They agree. ( A beat. ) Uncle suggests he is more suitable, having minded children. Zewu-Jun... anticipated the argument and reminds he too raised me.
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You know what I think?
We should let them fight. In that funny Lan way, the really passive-aggressive way where people just quote rules at each other or pretend to be really nice. [He loved watching those when he was still a guest disciple for the lectures, any time he wasn't getting up to mischief or being punished for said mischief. It's one of the times that he thinks the Lan rules may have merit, because the Lans make verbal sparring entertaining.
Watching two Lans go at it is better than watching street performers.]
It could keep A-Yuan entertained for a while, and help him figure out if he likes his father's older brother or uncle better.
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...is this how Wei Ying sees them? Passive-aggressive, quick to resort to the rules as weapons, rather than mutual guidance toward virtue? Does he expect no better of Gusu Lan and its foremost leaders? Of course, Lan Wangji cannot demand he should sport kinder sentiments toward anyone, but to think of his own blood and flesh so reviled is a bitter, jarring thing. )
There will be no fight. None necessary.
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You think they'll just decide who will take A-Yuan? Or will you decide for them?
Aiyah, all right, all right. [He won't get to see Lan Qiren and Zewu-jun face off! A shame!] I'm sure whoever you pick will do well and adore A-Yuan, anyway.
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