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It’s never a good day to get kidnapped. It’s not something you can prepare for, or even get the smallest of hints to expect it before it happens. Getting kidnapped is also not something most people worry about, especially not on a rainy Tuesday afternoon.
Wei Wuxian had considered himself to be one of those people until about approximately thirty minutes ago.
He’d been walking down the street, holding his umbrella in front of his face to avoid the pouring rain and cold winds, just making his way to the corner store to pick up some last-minute groceries. All of his focus on the ground right in front of him, trying to avoid stepping in the puddles forming on the concrete with his worn-out converse.
In fact, he’d been so focused on not stepping in the puddles that he hadn’t noticed the people walking towards him, nor the car slowing down to a stop just a short distance in front of him, with tinted windows and squealing tires. It wasn’t until he could see the tips of the men's shoes, dark leather, barely soaked in the rain, that he lifted the umbrella from his face to not collide with them.
Both were dressed in suits with purple ties, standing just far apart so it was impossible for Wei Wuxian to walk around them on either side of the sidewalk, yet close enough that he wouldn’t be able to go between them either with the umbrella. They stared at him, brows furrowed and looking very serious.
In hindsight, the fancy clothes and expensive shoes should have tipped him off that something was wrong, the area around the apartment he shared with Lan Zhan was known for its population of recently graduated students who still lived off cheap instant food, not a place for men in suits to be walking the streets. But Wei Wuxian didn’t go around judging people based on how much they looked like potential kidnappers, and had judged them to be very boring accountants.
Wei Wuxian had stared back, or tried to at least, except it was a bit hard to look as grim as the other two when he constantly had to blink rainwater out of his eyes. Neither of them moved.
“Hey, you’re taking up the whole street, could you move?” He’d said and hoped he looked annoyed enough for them to move out of the way. It always seemed to work for Lan Zhan, but Lan Zhan was a stone-cold bitch and would probably already have breezed past the blockage.
Instead of responding to him the one on the left had just looked at him up and down once before turning to his partner. “Do you think it’s the right guy?”
“We’re in the right place, he fits the description.”
“You’re right.” the possible accountant sighed and removed something from the inside of his suit jacket. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”
Ice pooled to the bottom of Wei Wuxian’s stomach, and he took an involuntary step back. That was not normal accounting talk, he was pretty sure. “Listen we could just ignore this right and I’ll walk another way and you can have the whole sidewalk to yourself,” He laughed nervously, “I can just go around you no problem and-”
The possible accountant took a step forward in almost perfect synchronicity and lunged for him.
He hadn’t had time to think before his arms were grabbed, one by each man, and they tried to force his arms behind his back. Blindly, Wei Wuxian flailed around with the umbrella trying to break free from the grip.
“The fucker hit me with the umbrella.” The one to the right hissed, fingers digging into Wei Wuxian’s arms as he struggled. His face was just a little to the left of Wei Wuxian and if he just got a little closer…
The man leaned in, a bright red spot blooming under his right eye. “Just bag him already! I don’t want him to poke my eye out with that thing- fuck !”
Reflexively, the man let go of his arm to grab at where Wei Wuxian had kicked him between his legs, lips sucked in between his teeth and eyes starting to tear up- like he’d bitten down on a particularly sour lemon. Wei Wuxian only has a moment of freedom though, before he felt something getting pulled over his head and all he could see was darkness.
“Wait no hey! You can’t do this!” One of the fake accountants had kicked at his knees and he lost his balance, stumbling forward and harshly pushed to the side, almost falling over.
One of the men had managed to get both of his hands behind his back and Wei Wuixan felt something thin getting wrapped around his wrists, hard edges biting into his skin as it got pulled tighter. He had tried to tug his hands lose, but when nothing happened it was as if a flare of panic lit up in his body.
It had felt like he couldn't breathe, the fabric of the bag over his head getting sucked into his mouth as he tried to gasp for air, lightheadedness making his body feel hot and cold at the same time. He felt paralyzed. Body only being moved because of the man pushing him, until his shaking knees hit something solid, and he had gotten shoved forward one last time.
And before Wei Wuxian even could come up with the idea that maybe he should scream or do anything to attract attention to himself, the sound of the trunk slamming shut echoes around the space he’d been dumped in, making the darkness in front of his eyes press in closer than before.
Which leads him to now. Cramped in the trunk of a car.
He tries to focus on the road, keep track of the turns taken and how long the car keeps driving, but after a while it simply becomes impossible. All he can feel is the pounding of his chest, his heart beating faster than ever before, and oh go it feels like he can’t breathe .
Shit. Fuck. He’d told Lan Zhan that he was going out to buy something easy for dinner, how long would he have to be gone before Lan Zhan noticed he was missing? Would he call the police or just wait around, assuming that Wei Wuxian had gotten distracted by something on the way?
The driver takes another turn and Wei Wuxian’s head bumps into the side of the car, and his shoulder is pressed up against the wall uncomfortably. It’s all so unfair! He didn’t deserve to get kidnapped, he didn’t even know what the situation was about. There is no way this could be about money, he works as a freelancer making webpages for small eco-friendly startup companies and he even lives with a roommate- too poor to even have his own apartment!
When the car pulls to a stop, Wei Wuxian had gone from being very panicked to feeling mostly annoyed. This sure as hell isn’t how he planned his day to go, and now he’s probably gonna die or some other stupid shit, just because some people didn’t know that kidnapping a guy who just got out of college would give them basically zero amounts of money.
He briefly wonders if Lan Zhan has sent out a search party yet. Maybe that’s too much to hope for.
Wei Wuixan can hear the definitely fake accountants slam their door shut, and he doesn’t have to wait long before they open the trunk and roughly grab at his arms again. At least his legs are free, and he gets in at least one good kick before they remove him from the space, and start to drag him along. The rain is coming down as heavy as ever, and quickly drenches his shoulders and the bag over his face.
He makes it as hard as possible for them to move him, now that he’s actually expecting to be dragged away by some random people it’s easier to put up a fight. He throws himself in different directions, screams, and tries to cause as much of a raucous as possible. It’s worth it from the grunt of frustration from one of the kidnappers.
“Can you just stop ? There’s no one around for miles that will help you.” The man sounds annoyed, but that’s his own problem with kidnapping Wei Wuxian.
“Why would I stop, you did this to yourself, honestly!“ He responds, and then accidentally elbows one of them in the ribs with his jerky movements. From the cursing, he assumes it must hurt pretty bad, and he grins under the bag.
His amusement is short-lived though when he feels something press into the back of his head, compact and cold. A gun.
Wei Wuxian stops moving immediately.
“That’s better. We don’t need you to cause any more trouble than you already have. So why don’t you sit down hmm?” It’s not a question.
Two hands on his shoulders demand him to move forward, and he resentfully follows the direction. The rain stops hitting his shoulders and gets replaced by the sound of it hitting a roof somewhere far above him, and he can feel the hard gravel under the worn-out soles of his converse.
They force him to sit down on a chair he hadn’t even been aware of, and the feeling of ice spreading in his stomach returns. It crawls up his spine and down his arms when he feels his hands getting secured to the back of the chair. Someone takes a few steps back to the left of him and then, nothing.
It’s quiet for a very long time.
He barely breathes, the fabric over his face makes it hard to inhale properly but he’s afraid to make too much noise. Once, he tries to tug at the bindings around his wrist, but it causes the chair to squeak, and Wei Wuxian grimaces at how the noise echoes around the space.
It’s worse than being in the car trunk. There it was movement, and he’s been alone and able to think over the situation at least a little. Now his thoughts are racing so fast that he can barely comprehend them, he keeps seeing the faces of the people he loves looking worried or sad or horrified and he can see his own body laying on the ground dead, blood pooling around it and- and he’d dropped the umbrella.
He’d dropped the umbrella. Somehow that’s the clearest thought of them all, the image of the pale blue umbrella laying discarded on the sidewalk, a lonely spot of color against the gray streets. The umbrella’s Lan Zhan’s favorite, because it has small silhouettes of bunnies in white on the inside, and Wei Wuxian had gotten it for him as a ‘thank you for letting me move into your ridiculously fancy apartment even if I’m dirt poor and this was the only thing I could get you if I wanted to also pay rent this month’-gift.
Would that be the last memory Lan Zhan has of him? Walking out the door, blue umbrella in one hand, waving goodbye with the other and promising to return soon?
Tears of desperation burn his eyes and threaten to well over, and he furiously blinks under the bag, lashes catching against the scratchy material. His throat feels smaller somehow, chocked up by tears, and he’s so focused on trying to keep breathing at a normal pace as to not alert the fake accountants of his misery, that he misses when a new person enters the room. Wei Wuxian lifts his head up a bit, focusing on the sound of gravel being crushed under someone’s shoes.
The person stops just a bit in front of him and scoffs. ”You really thought you could get away from us huh, what a fucking stupid idea. Did you expect us to turn a blind eye to all the problems you’ve caused and just let you go on your shitty little way?”
“I promise I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s sure his captors can hear the tremor in his voice.
“Oh really?” There’s a sneer in the man’s voice. “So I’m just gonna assume that you don’t know anything about the money you’ve been embezzling from us?”
“Embezzling money? No oh my god no, I have no idea what you’re talking about- you got the wrong guy! I’m just a programmer! Honestly! All I wanted was to do some shopping and now I’m kidnapped !”
“A programmer. Well. That’s the worst cover story I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s not a cover story! Please you have to believe me I have no idea what money you’re talking about, I don’t even know who you guys are or who you’re working for so if you just let me go I promise I won’t call the police alright. You can go ahead and- and kidnap the right guy and get the money from him!” Wei Wuxian pauses for a moment to breathe. “Uh, have I been kidnapped by the mafia?”
Christ, Wei Wuxian could hit himself over the head. A super great question to ask his captors who already are annoyed at him, who else would be so down to snatch people off the street? He’s gonna die in an unknown place because of his big mouth and somebody else’s crime.
“This is unbelievable. ‘Mafia’ makes it sound like we’re Italian.“ A snort. “Take off the bag, I don’t think the message is getting across properly.”
There’s a click, and Wei Wuxian knows, from watching countless action movies, that it’s the sound of the safety on a gun being pulled down. He feels the material scratch against his face as it gets pulled upwards, and he squeezes his eyes shut until the light from the room is visible through his eyelids.
Wei Wuixan blinks.
Jiang Cheng blinks back.
In his right hand, currently pointed at Wei Wuxian’s recently uncovered face, is a purple handgun. The knuckles on his hand are white from how tight he’s gripping it. In one swift move, the gun is directed to one of the men from the car standing behind the chair.
“Jiang Cheng? What- why do you have a gun ?” He yelps.
“ Not now Wei Wuxian .” Jiang Cheng growls out, face turning an alarming shade of red.
He stares in fascination as Jiang Cheng clenches his jaw, and the veins in his neck almost bulge out from the pressure. It’s the same face he makes right before he starts screaming at people, and it's usually followed by a raised fist and a few swear words. But now it’s not the mild anger that’s directed at Wei Wuxian, no right now Jiang Cheng looks furious.
“Which one of you fuckers is responsible?” His voice echoes around the warehouse they’re in, bouncing off shipping containers stacked in rows upon each other and sounding like thunder.
Wei Wuxian twists around in his chair to see all three of the men point at each other, hands shaking and looking panicked. Jiang Cheng glares at them, lip curling up and showing his teeth, he looks like a dog ready to strike the next person who moves.
His head is spinning, trying to connect the Jiang Cheng he knows is his brother, who’d cried over watching The Sound Of Music multiple times, with the Jiang Cheng standing before him, gun held in a steady hand.
“You said you worked for the family company.” He accuses, completely ignoring whatever he’d been told earlier. He never listened to what Jiang Cheng said to him anyway, and he wasn’t about to start now just because his brother knew how to handle a gun. A gun that’s purple. It almost makes him feel embarrassed for his younger brother who’d clearly only gotten it because it was in his favorite color.
Gritting his teeth, Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath before temporarily shifting his death glare to Wei Wuxian for a second, looking particularly annoyed with him. “This is the family company.”
“Doing shady business in warehouses? I thought your family did like, transportation or something.” During the time Wei Wuxian lived with the Jiang’s there had always been a clear divide between him and the rest of the family, especially when it came to discussions about the family company. Madame Yu would always clamp up about the subject whenever he’d come into the room and both Jiang Cheng and Yanli had apologetically explained to him that they weren’t allowed to talk about it with him either.
“We are, it's just. Look, can we discuss this in one moment? I have some employees I need to talk with right now, yeah?” He nods his head towards the men.
From where he’s sitting, Wei Wuxian can hear one of them swallow. “Sir we were just-”
“Just what? I think I’ve made it explicitly clear which people you avoid interacting with at all costs, and I don’t take mistakes like this lightly.” Jiang Cheng barks at them. “I don’t have time to deal with you fucking idiots right now, just ugh, go guard the exits and make sure that nobody gets inside without my permission. I hope I don’t have to spell out what will happen if you fail this simple task.”
The men nod and stiffly, and Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows as all of them take out guns from the inner pockets of their suits before quickly moving towards the double red metal doors at the end of the warehouse. At least their guns weren’t purple.
“And you said you weren’t the mafia! This looks a lot like the mafia to me!” Wei Wuxian tugs at the binding around his wrists, and motions with his head to the surroundings. The industrial spotlights shining from the ceiling high above makes all the colors on the containers look washed out and the shadows deep and dark, it’s not the sort of place he’d imagined Jiang Cheng ever stepping foot in, but he’s gonna have to do some re-evaluation on what he assumed he knew about him.
Jiang Cheng presses the heel of his gun-free hand to his temple, looking like he regrets bringing Wei Wuxian to the warehouse more and more for each second passing by. A little headache serves him right for the kidnapping though. “I didn’t say that we weren’t the mafia, it’s just not a word we prefer to use.” He grimaces.
“So you’re the mob then?”
“I guess that’s the best word for it yeah. We mostly make sure to supply the other gangs in the city with whatever, uh, supplies they might need.”
Jiang Cheng cuts himself off, and both of them turn to look at the door where the sound of grunting and something heavy hitting the metal walls of the warehouse walls interrupts the quiet. “Motherfucker.” He curses under his breath and then turns back to glare at Wei Wuxian. “You better deal with this.”
“ Me ?” There had to be something wrong with Jiang Cheng if he thought that Wei Wuixan would be any help at all in this situation, he was still tied to the chair! Whoever it was on the other side of the door had taken out at least one of the armed men and he really didn’t want to try his odds against that.
With a loud bang, both of the doors slam open, letting the cold air from outside into the building with the heavy scent of rain on pavement, and in the middle, standing in front of the gray world outside like a single beacon of light is Lan Zhan, dressed completely in white and holding a sword.
Wei Wuxian can’t help it, he gawks.
“Lan Zhan?” He manages to squeak out, watching how Lan Zhan strides forward, eyes focused only on where Wei Wuxian is tied to the chair. He suddenly feels very exposed in a way that he’s not entirely against.
“Wei Ying. Are you okay?” He stops a few paces in front of Wei Wuxian, dressed in completely different clothes than when Wei Wuxian had last seen him in the apartment. He’s in a long white coat with small diagonal lines running down it, the material light and flowy and covering the turtleneck under it, reaching down to the top of the gleaming heavy-duty black combat boots that Wei Wuxian is almost positive he’s never seen in Lan Zhan’s wardrobe ever before. It’s a surprisingly good look on him.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” He swallows and focuses on the sword, the intricate ivory hilt held securely in Lan Zhan’s grip and the long blade reflecting the warehouse spotlights. It looks surprisingly familiar… “Wait, is that the sword from our living room?”
“It is.” Lan Zhan says like it’s no big deal at all that he’s walking around dressed like a fashion statement and also holding a sword.
“I thought it was just a decoration!”
“Mh. Wei Ying assumed that. I did not correct you.”
“So what, you're also part of the mafia?” He turns to glare at Jiang Cheng, who seems to have relaxed just a little bit. “You knew Lan Zhan was part of the mafia and didn’t tell me?”
Jiang Cheng ignores his outrageous cry, instead, he focuses on Lan Zhan and nods once. “Hanguang-Jun.”
“Sandu Shengshou. ”
Wei Wuxian throws his head back and groans. “And you even have cool titles! Why wasn’t I invited to be part of the mafia? I wanna carry around a cool sword or something.” Hell, he could even settle for a purple gun, why were everyone around him so much cooler all of a sudden?
Humming, Lan Zhan walks around the chair to stand behind Wuixan. “Can get Wei Ying a sword if he wants.”
“Really? That would be so cool! Oh Lan Zhan we can get matching swords and I can hang mine up on the wall beside yours!”
Jiang Cheng sweeps his eyes over Lan Zhan once, looking particularly unimpressed. “Jesus Christ, I’m leaving, like, right now. Did you leave anyone alive out there or am I gonna find a bloodbath?” When Lan Zhan doesn’t answer he just sighs, like he’s tired of the whole situation and would rather have it be over with. “Great, fan-fucking-tastic. I shouldn’t have expected anything else from a man who brings a Sako to a warehouse.”
He sweeps out of the room, tucking his gun into the waistband of his pants, and stopping to glare at Wei Wuxian in front of the open doors. “We’ll talk more about this later.” He grunts, and then disappears before Wei Wuxian can even agree to it.
It silent for a moment, only the continuous sound of rain hitting the roof filling the room.
“So, ah, you came all this way to find me then? I mean, unless you had other plans to hang around shady warehouses in the afternoon, which seems to be a thing for Jiang Cheng so maybe it’s not that weird. Is it like a mafia thing, do all of you just meet up in places like this, or is it only for people who embezzle money?” Wei Wuxian tries to twist around in the chair to see Lan Zhan’s face; if his eyebrows are doing that small little twitch that he can’t seem to stop doing whenever Wei Wuxian’s said something stupid and he’s trying to hold back laughter.
“You were gone for a long time. I got worried. Please try to hold still for a moment.” Lan Zhan says, and not even a moment later the hard plastic holding Wei Wuxian’s hands locked together to the back of the chair unclasps.
His wrists are sore, and when he stretches his arms out in front of him there’s a clear pop-sound from both his wrists, and Wei Wuxian grimaces. There are faint red marks from where the plastic had cut into his skin.
From behind him, Lan Zhan leans over his shoulder and gently takes hold of his wrist. It’s the first time Wei Wuxian notices the fingerless gloves with reinforced protection over knuckles on his hands. His long black hair spills over Wei Wuxian like oil, dark and gleaming under the light, and he can faintly smell the Jasmine scented shampoo Lan Zhan prefers. It’s so familiar, so welcome after everything that just happened. He can see the intense look in Lan Zhan’s eyes as he oh so carefully touches the edge of the red bruises with his thumb, touch light yet warm as a furnace of Wei Wuxian’s skin.
It’s just awful how beautiful Lan Zhan is when he’s concerned.
“How did you find me here anyway?” Wei Wuxian says, focusing on the grave in front of him, instead of Lan Zhan’s cheekbones which would definitely have caused him to say something embarrassing like ‘I think you look super hot with a sword’.
“Hm.” Lan Zhan lets go of his wrist, and the warmth goes away with his hand. “You asked me to add you to track my iPhone a few months ago.”
“Oh yeah I did, that was a smart move!” He stands up from the chair and almost immediately stumbles forward. In the midst of everything going on, he’d missed when he lost the feeling in both of his legs. Standing up felt like a thousand needles pressing against his shins. “Fuck.”
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan frowns at him, and Wei Wuxian tries to wave it away.
“I’m fine, just haven’t been standing up in a little while.” He took another step forward, only for his knee to almost bend backward. “Alright so maybe not that fine but- wait! Wait Lan Zhan you don’t have to carry me! My legs aren’t that weak.”
But it was too late, he was already being swept up in Lan Zhan’s strong arms.
Being carried by Lan Zhan is a very pleasant experience, Wei Wuxian is close enough that he can hear his heartbeat and he moves just a bit, trying to leech off more body heat. It would be heaven on earth if it wasn’t for a solid rectangular object pressing into the side of his ribs.
Whatever the object is, it’s covered by the long coat. Luckily for Wei Wuxian, he’s right by the big buttons in white plastic. He makes quick work with the first one, ignoring the scandalous look Lan Zhan is sending him. Under the coat, he’s wearing the same turtleneck that he’d worn when Wei Wuxian had left the apartment, only, when the next button gets undone, he can see polyester straps going over Lan Zhan’s shoulders and connecting to a thicker band right under his chest.
“More guns?” He cries, undoing a third looking at the identical silver guns in holsters on either side of Lan Zhan’s chest. They look polished to perfection, and Wei Wuxian can see his distorted reflection in the metal.
“You missed the rifle on my back.” There’s an amused glint in Lan Zhan’s eyes, and not even the rain almost immediately drenching them both as they step outside the warehouse can damper the way Wei Wuxian’s heart just burns in his chest.
Even with strands of hair stuck to his cheek from the weather, Lan Zhan looks… He looks like he was put on earth just to show Wei Wuixna what true beauty is.
“Hey, Lan Zhan? I know this afternoon has been a lot, so if I’m overstepping or anything just blame it on stress yeah? But, ah, fuck. You look really really good in all of this- not that you don’t look great usually! You absolutely do! I’m just,” He exhales. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Can I kiss you?”
Lan Zhan looks at him, brows furrowed, but there’s a tug at the corner of his mouth and there’s a brilliant red flush over his ears. They’re so close that Wei Wuxian can see his pupils expand.
“Wei Ying.” He says, barely above a whisper, and closes the distance between them.
Lan Zhan’s lips are as warm and soft as his caress from earlier, and wonderful enough to distract Wei Wuxian from the gun still digging into his side.