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Jiang Cheng was dead tired, but his mother would have had his head if he'd failed to show up to a New Year dinner and caused her to lose face in front of her entire social circle—so here he was, trying not to nod off in his chair as conversation flowed around him like thick honey.
He had the vague idea that a-jie was sitting somewhere to his right, and even his sleep-muddled brain couldn’t fail to pinpoint Wei Wuxian’s obnoxious voice coming from across the wide table. Wei Wuxian was yammering away and no one was telling him to shut up, so that must mean Lan Wangji was next to him, taking one for the team and keeping him occupied.
Jiang Cheng yawned. Better him than me.
Although at this rate, he could probably even fall asleep to the stream of noise coming from Wei Wuxian’s mouth.
He was fairly certain he would do all right on his exams. He remembered carefully double- and triple-checking his answers before reluctantly handing them in, and he vaguely remembered feeling confident as he'd walked up to the proctor at the front of the testing hall, but the moment the papers had left his fingertips, the consequences of three days and nights of non-stop studying had crashed into him and everything was a bit fuzzy after that.
Thank goodness it had been a short non-stop subway ride to the restaurant, or he might have sat down to take a breather and conked out there and then.
“A-Li.”
Ah, that must be Jin Zixuan and his mother. No doubt Jin Guangshan would show up in a few hours and sit as far from his wife as possible, with an apologetic Jin Guangyao in tow.
With how much the man cared about his image, you'd think he'd arrive early to snag the most prestigious seat, but all of their families had known each other long enough that no one had any illusions about what kind of person he was.
The yellow blur that was probably Jin Zixuan bent down to kiss a-jie’s cheek before sliding into the chair next to her. A-jie shifted to make more room, nudging gently at Jiang Cheng with her hip.
He obediently shuffled a few inches to the left. His left thigh pressed up against something soft and warm, and he mumbled an apology.
“Jin Zixuan!” Wei Wuxian called from across the table. “You’d better watch yourself!”
A-jie made a disapproving noise, and Jiang Cheng tried to roll his eyes. His eyeballs refused to move.
With considerable effort, he forced his mouth to make words. Sleep deprivation wasn’t going to stop him from bickering with his brother.
“Drop it already, Wei Wuxian, they’ve already been married for a month now,” he grumbled.
“I think they’re adorable,” a female voice announced, with the kind of sharpness that was usually accompanied by a glare in Wei Wuxian’s direction.
Jiang Cheng’s brain whirred feebly, trying to identify which of their mothers had spoken. His mental gears had been ground smooth from the effort by the time Jin Zixuan cleared up the mystery by saying, “Oh, Mianmian, you’re here.”
“Yes,” Mianmian said, “I was in the car with you.” She made a noise of disgust. “Free food or not, I can’t believe I agreed to come keep you company all night if you're already this bad."
“Usually you tell my mother I’m old enough to arrange my own play-dates,” Jin Zixuan agreed. “The food here must be really good.”
“If you don’t let me sit down and get out of the waitstaff’s way, you’ll never find out. Scooch over.”
A-jie smiled. (Jiang Cheng could tell from the sudden warmth in the air to his right.) “It’s good to see you, Luo Qingyang,” she said as she nudged Jiang Cheng again.
Jiang Cheng moved over some more, twisting slightly as his shoulder came into contact with the person next to him.
“Sorry,” he said again, turning his torso so he took up slightly less space. He leaned forward, opting to press his shoulder against a-jie’s so that he didn’t encroach on the other person’s space.
“I don’t mind,” said the person to his left, and oh, it was Lan Xichen.
Jiang Cheng squinted blearily over his shoulder against the blinding brightness of both Lan Xichen’s clothing and his gentle smile.
“It’s just—“ he tried to explain, not even sure he was making sense at this point, “—it’s a big table, but maybe we should have gotten a second one—”
“Wanyin,” Lan Xichen chuckled, “I just said I don’t mind. You don’t need to sit like that; it looks uncomfortable.”
A warm hand cupped Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and tugged him out of his hunched-over position against a-jie’s side. As Lan Xichen straightened him up, he became aware of the swathe of heat against his back.
Oh no. This was dangerous.
The restaurant was brightly lit and bustling with conversation and the clanging of dishes, but Jiang Cheng had reached the point where even the dull roar was lulling. He fought his eyelids valiantly, but the warmth of Lan Xichen’s torso against his back was the last straw.
“Wanyin?”
Why was Lan Xichen’s voice so close to his ear?
Oh, at some point he had let his head fall back against Lan Xichen’s shoulder.
“I wanna sleep, but I have to eat something,” he mumbled to himself. “If I don’t eat, I’ll—I’ll die. People have to eat to stay alive.”
“Wanyin?” Lan Xichen’s voice didn’t sound as serene as it had been earlier. “Did you eat lunch today?”
Jiang Cheng lifted a hand and flopped it around a couple of times. “Exams,” he explained.
“...Did you eat dinner last night?”
Jiang Cheng flopped the hand closer to Lan Xichen’s face. Maybe he hadn’t seen it well enough the first time. “Exams.”
Lan Xichen hummed consideringly in Jiang Cheng’s ear. It was nice. Even when he was just subconsciously making noise, his voice was pleasant. Truly the pride of the Lan family.
“Oh, the Nies are here!” Wei Wuxian bounced in his chair and waved at the two green and grey blobs that were approaching the table. “Just in time, you two!”
As Nie Huaisang took the offered seat beside Wei Wuxian, his brother rounded the table to say hello to Lan Xichen.
Lan Xichen’s chest rumbled against Jiang Cheng’s spine as he exchanged greetings with his best friend. His voice was soothing, deep and even-pitched and always with a hint of a smile.
Jiang Cheng was brought back from where he was drifting off by a jostling against his back. A waitress was wrestling another chair into the spot to Lan Xichen’s left.
“I can’t move back over any further, I’ll squish a-jie,” he complained to Lan Xichen, who had squeezed his arm between Jiang Cheng’s waist and the back of his chair and was applying gentle pressure. But he was too sleepy and too warm to resist Lan Xichen’s efforts to reposition him.
“I know, Wanyin.” Lan Xichen’s eyes curled into fond crescents. “Here, we’ll just do this.” He tightened his grip on Jiang Cheng’s waist.
And then Jiang Cheng was cradled against a firm chest, lifted into the air for a long moment before being deposited onto a warm lap.
To their left came an exasperated sigh. “Xichen…”
“Wanyin doesn’t mind, do you, Wanyin?”
Jiang Cheng had the vague notion that Lan Xichen was addressing him, but the drowsiness was dragging him back down and the thought of having to move again was exhausting. He pressed more firmly against the warmth at his back and gave in to slumber.
A-jie’s voice called him back.
“A-Cheng?” Her slender fingers cupped his cheek and she pressed her forehead to his, eyes anxious. “A-Cheng, are you okay? Do you want to leave?”
Leaving also sounded exhausting. There were three transfers between the restaurant and his apartment, and he didn’t think he could remember which stops to get off at until after he took a quick nap.
Besides, Lan Xichen was warm and smelled good, and his voice was nice to listen to.
Something in the jumble of words that he muttered at a-jie must have conveyed his thoughts, because the worry in her face smoothed out and she smiled fondly at him before rejoining the conversation with Jin Zixuan and Mianmian.
There was a brief murmur of excitement, and the smell of salt, meat, and rice wafted into Jiang Cheng’s consciousness.
The food was here.
Lan Xichen leaned forward, carefully tucking Jiang Wanyin into his chest as he accepted a bowl of soup from the waiter. The slumbering man barely stirred even as Lan Xichen jostled him around in the process of picking up his chopsticks and filling his plate, a testament to how tired he must be.
Lan Xichen frowned at the dark circles under Jiang Wanyin’s eyes. It was good that he was catching some sleep now, but it sounded like he hadn’t been eating well either, if at all…
Making up his mind, Lan Xichen shifted the slumped figure until he was curled in the crook of his left arm. With his right hand, he carefully ladled a spoonful of fish maw soup to Jiang Wanyin’s lips.
“Mm?” Jiang Wanyin stirred as the spoon bumped against his mouth. He licked his lips, and the taste of salt seemed to confuse him.
Lan Xichen felt a wave of affection rush over him. “Wanyin,” he said softly, “they’re starting to serve the food. Have some soup.”
Jiang Wanyin frowned, cracking one eye open. “Wanna sleep.”
“I know,” Lan Xichen reassured him. “Just one mouthful of soup, okay? How can you build your energy back up if you don’t eat anything?”
Jiang Wanyin grumbled unintelligibly but obediently opened his mouth and allowed Lan Xichen to feed him.
“Really, Xichen?” came from Lan Xichen’s left. Nie Mingjue glowered at him, unimpressed.
Lan Xichen smiled helplessly. “Wanyin needs the sleep, and I don’t mind.”
Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can tell.” He made a noise of disgust and turned pointedly to make conversation with Lan Xichen’s uncle, seated on his other side.
Come to think of it, shufu was probably glad for Nie Mingjue’s presence as a buffer between them. Lan Xichen knew he was acting shamelessly (and he was very glad that Jiang Wanyin’s mother seemed too distracted by her conversation with Madam Jin to look over at her son), but, well…
Jiang Wanyin was curled up against his chest, mouth twisted in an adorable pout even as he smacked his lips.
Just look at him.
Who could resist, right?
Lan Xichen took a spoonful of soup for himself, humming appreciatively at the complex flavors of the broth.
“It’s good, isn’t it, Wanyin?”
Jiang Wanyin nodded sleepily, eyes already shut once more. “Delicious.”
Lan Xichen smiled as he finished the bowl.
There was a bowl of soup sitting abandoned in front of Jiang Wanyin’s table setting, piping forlornly, and of course he had his own set of chopsticks and spoon, but Lan Xichen could hardly reach over Jiang Yanli all dinner when there was a perfectly serviceable set right in front of him.
He blinked, and suddenly Jiang Yanli was spooning delicate steamed fish meat onto his plate, smiling at him indulgently as she followed it up with a spoonful of sauce.
“A-Cheng likes this kind of fish,” she said knowingly.
Lan Xichen felt heat rise in his cheeks, but he inclined his head in gratitude. He opened his mouth to give Jiang Wanyin’s sister the same excuse he had given to Nie Mingjue, but before he could say anything, her smile widened and she turned to serve her husband.
“Wanyin,” he said, passing his chopsticks over the fish briefly to make sure there were no bones. Then he selected the plumpest piece and brought it to Jiang Wanyin’s mouth. “Have some fish, okay?”
Instead of answering, Jiang Wanyin ate the fish off his chopsticks. The furrow between his eyebrows lightened infinitesimally as he savored the bite, so Lan Xichen tried again with another piece of fish, then some rice. He was satisfied to see the entire serving disappear off his plate before Jiang Wanyin seemed to have had enough.
He chuckled, reaching out to fill his plate with more food from the serving dishes that had just been brought to the table.
“You really do like fish as much as your sister said, don’t you?”
“Tastes good,” was Wanyin’s only answer, interrupted by a yawn.
In between enjoying his own dinner and light conversation with Nie Mingjue and Jiang Yanli, and at one point greeting Jin Guangyao when he and Jin Guangshan finally arrived, Lan Xichen plied Jiang Wanyin with bites of things he thought the younger man might like.
He eventually stopped telling Jiang Wanyin what was being fed to him, instead simply calling his name and then watching in amusement to see how he reacted when the various flavors hit his taste buds.
Jiang Wanyin was unenthusiastic about the braised tofu and mushrooms, but the roasted chicken and crispy suckling pig were well received, and the stir-fried snow pea leaves were also deemed “tasty.”
A hand came up to tug insistently on Lan Xichen’s sleeve. “L’ Xichen.”
Lan Xichen looked down expectantly. “Yes, Wanyin? Do you want something else? How about a bite of these noodles?”
Jiang Wanyin sighed and obediently opened his mouth, and after chewing and swallowing, he gave his customary judgement: “Delicious.” Then he tugged at Lan Xichen’s sleeve again. “You’re eating enough, right? Can’t just—just talk and—feed other people all night.”
Lan Xichen’s arm tightened around Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders without conscious thought. “What a good boy, thinking of me. Don’t worry, Wanyin, I promise I’m eating plenty.”
Jiang Wanyin had already fallen back asleep, apparently reassured that Lan Xichen wasn’t starving himself.
Lan Xichen gazed at him with a bubble of unbearable fondness pressing against the inside of his ribcage. Jiang Wanyin was ridiculously soft when he wasn’t conscious enough to hide his worry and thoughtfulness behind a prickly exterior.
The clatter of porcelain against glass broke him from his thoughts. A steaming pot of dessert soup meant that Jiang Wanyin could go home and sleep comfortably in his own bed soon.
“Wanyin, dessert?”
Jiang Wanyin hummed around the mouthful of red bean soup and mumbled a “Tasty,” but he didn’t seem to want more, so Lan Xichen finished the bowl as he listened to shufu, Madam Yu, Nie Mingjue, and Jin Guangshan fight over the bill.
Lan Xichen wondered if he could flag down a waiter and bypass the process entirely, only to realize that Jin Guangyao was standing at the cash register with a receipt in hand and a look of satisfaction on his face.
Nie Mingjue stopped arguing for long enough to follow Lan Xichen’s gaze, and he huffed out a laugh as he realized what their friend had done. “That sneaky little shit,” he said admiringly, even though they both knew Jin Guangshan was going to take all the credit. “...Well, seeing as I’ve been beat, I guess we’ll head out now.”
He pushed out of his chair and made his way around the table to collect his brother.
Amidst the rustling of everyone getting up from their seats and saying their goodbyes, Lan Xichen gently shook Jiang Wanyin.
“Wanyin,” he tried.
Instead of opening his eyes, Jiang Wanyin opened his mouth, as he had been doing all night whenever Lan Xichen said his name.
And Lan Xichen couldn’t resist. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to that mouth, his lips curling up at the corners in adoration.
He nearly dropped Jiang Wanyin when he rubbed his eyes and said, “Delicious.”
Oh, Lan Xichen was going to eat him up as soon as he was firing on all cylinders.
“All right, Wanyin,” he chuckled to cover up the way his heartbeat had suddenly sped up. “Let’s get you home.”
“And just where do you think you’re taking my didi, Lan-da-ge?” Wei Wuxian appeared as if summoned, scowling ferociously. “His entire family is right here!”
“A-Cheng doesn’t live with any of us,” Jiang Yanli reminded her adopted brother, stepping closer and laying a hand on Jiang Wanyin’s cheek. “If Lan Xichen is willing to help him get home, it’s his decision.”
“Well, Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian stared expectantly at the groggy young man still sitting on Lan Xichen’s lap.
“Mmmm? Wha…?”
Jiang Yanli’s thumb stroked Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, drawing his attention to her. “A-Cheng, do you want one of us to take you home?”
Lan Xichen was just mourning Jiang Wanyin’s warmth in his arms when Jiang Wanyin shook his head and buried his face back into Lan Xichen’s chest.
“I’m tired,” he said, voice muffled by Lan Xichen’s shirt. “Time to go home.”
Wei Wuxian frowned. “Yes, but—”
Jiang Wanyin’s floppy hand made another appearance, this time smacking lightly into Lan Xichen’s jaw before patting apologetically.
“Xichen-ge will take care of me.”
Lan Xichen was very glad he was too distracted by Jiang Wanyin’s hand on his face to do something as inelegant as choking on his own spit at the words. He hadn’t heard Jiang Wanyin call him that since they’d been children.
He hadn’t realized he’d missed it so much.
“Xichen-ge.” Jiang Wanyin’s hand patted more insistently at his cheek. “Take me home?”
“A-Niang is coming over here,” Jiang Yanli said, eyes twinkling. “Go on, take A-Cheng home to get some rest, and we’ll take care of explaining things to her.”
Lan Xichen was not too proud to take the out he was being given.
Jiang Cheng opened his eyes to bright sunlight pouring in through his windows. He felt like he’d been asleep for a thousand years, and he groaned as the memories of last night poured into his brain.
He was never going to be able to complain about Wei Wuxian’s PDA ever again.
“Wanyin?” The door to his bedroom was pushed open, and Lan Xichen came in carrying a glass of water. “Are you awake?”
“Kinda wish I wasn’t,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, but he accepted the water gratefully.
Lan Xichen bent down to examine his face as he drained the glass.
“You look much better after a good meal and a full night’s rest,” he determined with satisfaction. “I’m so glad.”
Jiang Cheng snorted. “Looked that bad last night, did I?”
Lan Xichen frowned, looking more serious than Jiang Cheng had expected. “Wanyin, I asked you if you had eaten, and you just responded with Exams.”
Okay, so maybe he had a point. But Jiang Cheng was nothing if not stubborn, so he said, “That makes perfect sense to me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lan Xichen’s frown deepened. “Maybe I should stick around and keep an eye on you for today.”
...How do you expect me to respond to that, Xichen-ge??
Jiang Cheng’s cheeks heated up as he remembered the indulgent amusement with which Lan Xichen had held him last night, and the tenderness and care with which Lan Xichen had selected the tastiest morsels of food and fed them to him.
He also remembered opening his mouth, thinking that Lan Xichen wanted to feed him more dessert, only to be kissed so gently that his lips ached with the phantom touch.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a huge, scary risk to just go for it.
“I think you’re right,” he said, to Lan Xichen’s obvious dismay. “You should stay and keep an eye on me. All day long. Maybe the rest of the weekend too.”
“Are you feeling all right?” Lan Xichen leaned closer in to press his forehead against Jiang Cheng’s. “It doesn’t seem like you have a fev—”
Jiang Cheng stretched up and brushed a kiss of his own against Lan Xichen’s mouth. For a moment, his heart stopped beating as Lan Xichen went stiff.
Then Lan Xichen’s arm swept around his shoulders, pulling him tight to the other man’s chest. He relaxed into the deepening of the kiss, so ridiculously, absurdly glad that he had taken the risk.
Eventually, they broke apart for air. He hummed contentedly as he leaned against Lan Xichen’s torso, taking a secret delight in the strength of the arms that encircled him.
When he had finally caught his breath enough to speak, he looked up at Lan Xichen with a glint in his eye and licked his lips deliberately, watching the heat kindle in Lan Xichen’s expression.
He grinned and said, “Delicious.”