Chapter Text
Lan Wangji sat at his office desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood as he reviewed the final edits of a new drama series his station was producing. Over the past three years, his reputation as a meticulous production director had flourished, cementing his position as a key figure in the broadcasting industry. Yet, the accolades and success did little to alleviate the growing void in his personal life.
The soft chime of his personal phone broke his concentration. It was a reminder for a meeting-one not with a producer or actor, but with his husband. The word felt foreign, almost unfamiliar, despite their years of marriage. He and Wei Wuxian had never truly taken the time to define what their relationship meant to them.
Their marriage had been born out of duty, a strategic move to uphold family expectations and strengthen alliances. Neither had entered it with illusions of romance, but the current state of their relationship-cordial yet distant-was something neither had anticipated. They were more like strangers cohabiting than partners sharing a life.
Wangji leaned back in his chair, gazing out the expansive window that offered a panoramic view of the bustling city below. He had always admired Wuxian's dedication to his medical career, appreciating the fervor he brought to his work. Yet, admiration alone hadn't been enough to bridge the ever-widening gap between them.
The recent pressures from their families to adopt a child had added a new layer of complexity to their already tenuous relationship. With Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng struggling to produce heirs, the responsibility had shifted to Wangji and Wuxian. It wasn't that they opposed the idea of children, but how could they consider it when their own relationship was so undefined?
Wei Wuxian's hands trembled slightly as he set down the scalpel in the sterile tray. The emergency surgery had ended, leaving him exhausted from hours of intense focus and precision. He peeled off his gloves and mask, tossing them into the disposal bin before scrubbing his hands clean. The reflection staring back at him in the mirror appeared older than his years, fatigue etched into the lines around his eyes.
He leaned against the counter, allowing himself a rare moment of vulnerability. His phone buzzed again-a reminder that carried more weight than any patient chart or surgical case. It read: Talk with Lan Wangji. Saturday. 8 PM.
His heart thudded in his chest, not from the exertion of surgery, but from the anxiety of being late for what was, perhaps, the most crucial conversation in their marriage. At 7:45 PM, he was already late.
Hastily, he grabbed his phone and dialed Lan Wangji as he made his way to the car. The line rang twice before the familiar, calm voice answered.
"Wangji."
"Hey," Wuxian breathed, fumbling with his keys. "I'm so sorry. Emergency surgery ran long, but I'm on my way now. I'll be home soon. I didn't forget, I swear."
There was a brief pause on the other end. "Drive safely."
Wei Wuxian exhaled, relief washing over him. "Thanks. I'll be there in twenty."
The drive home blurred past, his mind occupied with the conversation ahead. Three years ago, when the Jiang family had arranged his marriage to the younger Lan heir, Wuxian had just completed his medical residency. His life had been a whirlwind of surgeries, relentless studying, and the weight of familial obligations. Marrying Lan Wangji had seemed like another duty-a checkbox on the long list of expectations placed upon him.
Their engagement had been formal and rushed, the wedding a grand event devoid of personal connection. In the three years since, they had lived as polite acquaintances rather than partners, sharing a luxurious apartment that felt more like a neutral zone than a home. Their interactions were cordial, their lives running on parallel tracks. Wuxian often wondered if Wangji found their arrangement as awkward as he did. There was no malice between them, but neither was there intimacy. They were actors in a long-running play, performing their roles without ever discussing the script.
But things needed to change. The hints from their families about children had become increasingly pointed. The idea of bringing a child into their current state felt absurd. How could they nurture a child when they hadn't even established a foundation for themselves?
Determined to address the issues they had ignored for too long, Wuxian had suggested they take this weekend to talk, free from distractions. Tonight was their opportunity to finally bridge the gap.
When he entered their apartment, the comforting aroma of garlic and herbs greeted him. He found Wangji in the kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta with effortless grace. Clad in a simple black sweater and jeans, he looked striking, the soft lighting enhancing his composed demeanor.
Wuxian felt a mix of guilt for being late and a flutter of warmth at the sight. "I'm sorry I'm late," he said, stepping into the kitchen. "You're cooking?"
Wangji turned, offering a small nod. "I thought we could have dinner while we talk."
His heart softened. "You didn't have to go through the trouble. But it smells amazing."
"Go shower," Wangji suggested gently. He could see the exhaustion written all over Wuxian's face. "Dinner will be ready soon."
Grateful for the chance to freshen up, Wuxian hurried to their bedroom, stripping off his scrubs and stepping into the shower. The hot water washed away the physical tension, but the anticipation of the conversation ahead lingered. They had agreed to this talk, but it was uncharted territory.
When he returned, dressed comfortably, Wangji was plating the pasta. He quickly set the table, his movements deliberate yet eager. As they sat down to eat, the room was filled with an unusual mix of anticipation and ease.
"This is really good," Wuxian said after the first bite, genuine surprise in his voice. "I didn't know you could cook like this."
Wangji's lips curved in a faint smile. "I rarely have the time."
"Well, you should definitely do it more often," Wuxian teased, the tension in his chest easing slightly.
They ate in silence for a few moments, the clinking of utensils the only sound in the room. Finally, Wuxian set his fork down and looked across the table.
"So," he began, his tone softer, "Three years, huh?"
Wangji's gaze met his, steady and unwavering, "Yes."
Wangji sat up straighter, his hands folded neatly on the table, as though he was preparing for a formal meeting. "Our families have been insistent," he said quietly, breaking the silence again. "About the adoption."
Wei Wuxian nodded. "Yeah, Jiang Cheng mentioned it the other day. Apparently, the pressure's mounting since neither he nor Lan Xichen are having any luck."
Wangji's gaze was steady. "We need to address our marriage before we can consider adding a child to it."
Wei Wuxian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I agree. We've been... coasting, I guess. Avoiding the elephant in the room."
He took a deep breath, his fingers tapping on the edge of the table as he gathered his thoughts."I know we agreed to this marriage because of our families. But we can't keep going like this."
"We've both been busy," Wangji said, his tone neutral but thoughtful. "But that's not all of it, is it? We've never really talked about what we wanted from this marriage."
Wuxian leaned back, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "Honestly? I don't know. I wanted to make my family happy, and at the time, that seemed like enough. But now... I think I want more. I want us to be more than just strangers sharing a space."
Wangji's eyes softened. "I feel the same."
Wuxian blinked, surprised by the sincerity in Wangji's voice. "You do?"
"I have always respected you, Wei Ying," Wangji said quietly. "But respect alone is not enough for a marriage to thrive. We need to communicate. We need to understand each other."
Wuxian smiled wryly. "You know, for someone who barely talks, you make a lot of sense."
Wangji's lips twitched in what almost looked like a smile. "Perhaps I have had time to think."
There was a pause as both men sat in silence, each reflecting on the years that had passed in quiet disconnect. Then Wei Wuxian spoke again, the words tumbling out in a mix of frustration and hope.
"Our families want us to adopt a child," he said. "But how can we even think about that when we haven't figured out our own relationship?"
Wangji's brow furrowed slightly, his fingers lacing together on the table. "I agree. A child deserves a stable, loving home. We need to understand each other before we can offer that."
Wuxian smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, "I'm glad we're on the same page. So, where do we start?"
Wangji was quiet for a moment, as if carefully considering his words. "We need to make time for each other. Intentional time. Not just for appearances or obligations."
Wuxian nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, I'd like that. I mean, look at tonight. We're actually having a conversation, and it feels... nice."
Wangji's gaze softened. "It does."
Encouraged by the warmth in Wangji's eyes, Wuxian leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "How about we start small? Dinners like this, a few nights a month. No phones, no work-just us."
Wangji's nod was slow but deliberate. "I would like that."
Wuxian's grin widened, "Great. And maybe we could go out sometimes too? Like actual dates?"
There was a flicker of amusement in Wangji's eyes. "Dates?"
"Yes, dates," he said, laughing. "We skipped all the fun parts, didn't we?"
Wangji's smile was small but genuine. "We did."
Wuxian's expression turned more serious, his gaze thoughtful. "You know, I used to wonder what it would've been like if we had met under different circumstances. If we'd had a chance to know each other without all the family expectations hanging over us."
Wangji tilted his head slightly, considering the others' words, "Perhaps we would have been friends."
Wuxian's smile softened. "Yeah, I think we would have. And maybe it's not too late to start."
There was a beat of silence as the weight of the conversation settled between them. Wei Wuxian took a sip of water, then spoke again, his tone lighter. "So, what's the secret ingredient in this pasta? I need to know if I'm going to steal your recipe."
Wangji's eyes glinted with subtle amusement. "Garlic and patience."
Wuxian laughed, the sound was warm and genuine, "Well, you've definitely got more patience than me. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two."
"Perhaps," Wangji replied, his voice gentle.
"And about the adoption," Wuxian continued, "I think we should wait. Let's figure out us first."
Wangji's gaze was firm. "That is wise."
Wuxian felt a strange sense of relief wash over him. It wasn't a solution to all their problems, but it was a step in the right direction. For the first time in years, he felt like they were on the same page, working towards a common goal.
"We should inform our families," Wangji said. "That we are working on it."
Wuxian chuckled. "That'll buy us some time. Maybe they'll back off for a bit."
They continued their meal, the conversation flowing more easily now. Wuxian found himself sharing stories from the hospital, the triumphs and the challenges. Wangji listened attentively, occasionally offering insights into his own work at the broadcasting station.
As the evening progressed, the walls that had quietly grown between them over the years seemed to thin. There was still much to address, but this was a start-a promising one.
After they finished eating, Wuxian helped clear the table, their movements in sync in the small kitchen. As they loaded the dishwasher, Wuxian glanced at Wangji, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"You know," he said, leaning against the counter, "if this is what dinners are like, I could get used to it."
Wangji arched a brow. "You enjoy my cooking?"
Wuxian nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Absolutely. You might have missed your calling as a chef."
Wangji's expression didn't change, but there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn't been there before. "Perhaps I'll cook more often."
Wuxian beamed. "I'd like that."
As they stood in the quiet of their shared space, the air between them felt different-lighter, more hopeful. Wuxian reached out, placing a hand on Wangji's arm, the gesture tentative but sincere.
"Thank you," he said softly. "For tonight. For everything."
Wangji placed his hand over Wuxian's, his touch gentle but firm. "We'll work on this. Together."
Wuxian nodded, a smile playing on his lips. For the first time in a long time, the future didn't seem so daunting. They had a long way to go, but they had taken the first step, and that was enough for now.
As they turned off the lights and prepared for bed, Wuxian felt a quiet contentment settle in his chest. Their marriage might have started as a convenience, but tonight, it felt like the beginning of something more-a partnership perhaps even a friendship.
And for that, Wuxian was willing to give it his all.