#background Wangxian | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eleanorfenyxwrites · 4 months ago

Text

I Need Some Lovin’

The Waves Are Rising and Rising Extra Scene #7

Chapter 1

What happens when an affection-starved ace is offered an opportunity to do some sex magic with a trusted friend? Inquiring minds (ours) wanted to know, so we wrote it

—//—

As a rule, Jiang Cheng is not a fan of cultivation conferences. As a sect leader he understands the need for them from a political perspective, appreciates that they genuinely are the most efficient way to solve jianghu-wide problems, but as a person…

Somehow they manage to be both mind-numbingly boring and brain-fryingly stressful. It shouldn’t be possible, as a combination, and yet.

Being the host makes them marginally easier to endure; he at least gets to sleep in his own bed, eat his own food, and regardless of how transparent the excuse he invents to get out of socialising is, as the host, his guests are more or less forced to accept it. It almost makes up for how obnoxiously irritating it is to have so many people he doesn’t particularly like in his own space.

Almost.

Thankfully, there hadn’t been too much on the agenda for this conference, so it had only lasted a few days. He’d made it through greeting ceremonies, banquets, toasts, hours of discussions and debates and trade arrangements, and, worst of all, hours of networking and surface-level socialising. Now the official goodbyes have been given, Jiang Cheng stands on the dock and watches as the other sects leave either via boat, or by soaring up into the sky on their swords; on the eastern dock, a little way around the lake, he can see Jin Zixuan standing with Jin Guangyao, the rest of the Jin retinue clustered at an appropriate distance but clearly impatient to leave. Most people would assume that they were witnessing a Sect Leader reassuring his Second, but Jiang Cheng knows the two men and suspects that it is the opposite, and it is Jin Guangyao doing the reassuring.

The one silver lining to this particular conference - besides the fact that everyone is finally packing up to leave - is, paradoxically, that not everyone is packing up to leave. It’s early summer, Yunmeng is warm without being stiflingly hot, the lotuses are in full bloom, and he’s going to be spending an entire week, just with his family.

“Hey! Jiang-xiong!”

Jiang Cheng turns at the familiar voice, brow creasing as he sees Nie Huaisang fluttering down the dock towards him, “Huaisang? You’ve missed your retinue, your da-ge just left five-”

Nie Huiasang grins broadly, panting a little as he reaches the end of the dock but still bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I’m staying for a couple more days!”

“Since when?”

“Since Yanli-jie invited me!”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, and growls, “Since you invited yourself you mean. Jie-jie would have asked me first.”

Nie Huaisang pouts. Jiang Cheng has a five year old nephew, and as such is utterly unaffected.

“I am deeply offended, Jiang-xiong, that you think I would be so impolite. I simply mentioned that I’ve never experienced a Yunmeng summer before, with all the heat and the lakes, and then Wei-xiong very rudely told everyone how I fell in the river back in Gusu during the lectures and how bad I was at swimming, and then Yanli-jie said-”

“Yes, yes, alright, fine,” Jiang Cheng sighs. “You can stay. How are you getting home, though? Presumably you’re not flying all the way back?”

“Gods, no. I’ll catch the boat to Lanling with Yanli-jie and Jin-xiong and the kids, and then borrow a carriage to get up to Qinghe.”

Jiang Cheng sighs. There’s a deep ache in his chest, hooked up under his ribs and squeezing around his heart, that he knows without examining too hard is the familiar feeling of being alone; ridiculous to feel it when surrounded by people, he knows, but… this was supposed to be a family visit, it was supposed to be a week with his sister and brother in their family home, and then Yanli had wanted the kids to be there, which was fair, and wanted Zixuan to be there too which was… fine, and then Wei Wuxian had whined that if the Peacock got to be there, could his beloved Lan Zhan stick around too? And Jiang Cheng had wanted to tell him exactly where his beloved Lan Zhan could bloody well stick it, but that wasn’t really fair, and Wei Wuxian is such a fucking brat nowadays without Lan Wangji glued to his hip that Jiang Cheng had caved. So their family time together that was supposed to be just them and maybe the kids, now included plus-ones, and also, inexplicably, Nie Huaisang.

(Of course jie-jie invited Huaisang to join in, the part of his brain that seems to enjoy hurting himself hisses, dripping vitriol like slow poison into his heart, this never meant the same to her as it did to you. It doesn’t mean as much to her as it does to you. She has her husband and her babies now, she has everything she needs, and she doesn’t need you anymore, does she?)

Jiang Cheng swallows, smothering the pain until he can give the cranky sort of huff that Nie Huaisang is expecting, scowling and rolling his eyes again as Nie Huaisang snakes his hand through the crook of Jiang Cheng’s folded arms and jostles him playfully.

“Oh come on Jiang-xiong, don’t be like that! It’ll be me and you and Wei-xiong all hanging out together - we can drink and goof around together just like old times!”

That makes him crack a smile, without even really realising he’s doing it. He kind of doubts that they’ll get to spend time together without the looming icy spectre of Huanguang-jun there, but the prospect of it - the idea of being part of a matching set, of belonging without anyone taking precedence over him, of getting prioritised as someone’s friend - loosens the horrible tightness in his chest just a little.

–//–

The week passes quickly, in a warm, sunny haze. For the most part Jiang Cheng actually has… a pretty good time. He loves his boisterous nephew and bright-eyed niece, and loves being their uncle. He tries to imagine who he is through their eyes, and tries to shape himself into the kind of person he would have wanted at his side as a child. He doesn’t know how well he succeeds, but at the very least, they know that he loves them, and that’s… a pretty decent start. As the weather is good, they spend a lot of their time in and around the lakes, teaching A-Ling to float and swim, letting both kids explore the flora and fauna (so alien to them compared to what they’ve seen in Lanling, but part of a heritage that Jiang Yanli is determined that they get to experience), and, on days where Jiang Cheng doesn’t have much sect business to attend to, just playing around and enjoying the cool lakes in each other’s company.

Despite his claims that he wants to improve his swimming ability, Nie Huaisang spends most of his time with only his feet hanging in the water, sharing a covered pavilion with Jiang Yanli, fanning himself lazily, and occasionally helping to entertain little A-Lu. Initially, Lan Wangji had followed his husband gamely into the water, but after a day or two had elected to stay in the shade with the others; Jiang Cheng isn’t sure if it was because he didn’t like the sun, or because he felt uncomfortable stripped down to his inner layers in company, but either way he was glad because the man had no interest in casual playful roughhousing with anyone other than Wei Wuxian, and when his husband was the only one he really interacted with, it made things kind of weird. He seemed a lot happier sat in the quiet and dry, in his million and one layers, his guqin a gentle serenade to the buzzing activity around him.

In the ranking of fun brothers-in-law, Jin Zixuan actually does, to Jiang Cheng’s great shock, rather favourably (although perhaps considering his competition is Lan Wangji, that’s not such an impressive feat). Although he was the worst when they were teenagers, growing up seems to have mellowed his more annoying traits - growing up, as well as marrying the best woman in the whole world, being the father of two young children, and spending several years as the leader of a sect that constantly seems to be on the brink of collapsing under its own fetid, bloated weight - and he takes everyone’s pranks and ribbing with surprisingly good grace and only a little irritation. He sheds his expensive fancy robes and golden headpiece and happily jumps in with the rest of them, offering shoulder carries, letting himself be thoroughly splashed by lake water, and (most importantly in Jiang Cheng’s eyes) allowing his son to win every competition and race without complaint.

The days are, mostly, good fun. They spend almost all of them all together, and with both couples split between the water and the land, Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel too much like an outsider in his own home.

It’s after dinner that things start to get… less fun. The children, obviously, go to bed early. Jiang Yanli usually winds up going with them; her health has always been weak, ever since she herself was a child, and spending days out in the sunshine and fresh air, playing with A-Ling and A-Lu, and collecting ingredients to indulge her love for cooking whenever she pleases, seems to reliably tire her out. Lan Wangji, of course, keeps to Lan regulations even outside of Gusu and retires early himself. Jin Zixuan rarely sticks around for much longer than than Lan Wangji, which bothers no one particularly. For the first few nights, Wei Wuxian stays up late drinking with Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, and things are good - like Nie Huaisang said, it feels like being back in their teens and goofing off at Cloud Recesses.

And then, one evening about half way through the week, Wei Wuxian gets up from the table at the same time as his husband, winking and citing a phrase that Jiang Cheng immediately decided to scrub from his brain for his own mental wellbeing, even as Jiang Yanli and Nie Huaisang had laughed (Jin Zixuan had cringed and wrinkled his nose, and what a world Jiang Cheng is living in if Jin Zixuan is the only other person he can relate to in the room). And then after that, he goes off to bed at the same time as Lan Wangji every evening, and Jin Zixuan tends to leave not long after, and then it’s just him and Nie Huaisang left.

Which… he doesn’t really mind itself. Nie Huaisang isn’t bad company, it’s just that…

This was supposed to be a family visit. He was supposed to be spending a week with his family, you know, the three siblings who vowed that they’d always be together. But neither of them seem to much care about that - or at least, neither of them care about it the way he does. They have their husbands, the children that they’re raising, their homes. They have new lives, and now he’s left behind. They’re complete without him, and he is back in Yunmeng in the sect he rebuilt for them, alone, feeling like he’s missing both his arms.

–//–

A-Lu presses a sloppy toddler kiss to his cheek. A-Ling has recently decided that he’s all grown up now, so he gives Jiang Cheng a quick, fierce hug, then stomps crankily over to the door. He has spent the last half hour whining to go to bed later, and has very nearly been sent to bed early for his trouble. Jin Zixuan rumples his hair and grins, and A-Ling scowls up at him, although his sleepy eyes and smothered yawns remove any real venom from it.

Jiang Yanli kisses Jiang Cheng on the forehead, then boops his nose with her knuckle, smile tired but wide and fond. Suddenly Jiang Cheng feels as old as A-Ling again, and yearns to curl up in her arms, but he’s not her baby brother any more, so he watches wistfully as she leaves with her perfect little golden family.

Wei Wuxian climbs to his feet with a theatrical yawn and an exaggerated wink at his husband that immediately sets Jiang Cheng on edge.

“Well, I think we’ll be heading to bed now too,” he says cheerfully, “as I said, everyday means-”

“Say one more word and I will break your legs,” Jiang Cheng snarls as Lan Wangji stands up so fast he seems to go from sitting to upright with no in-between state at all.

Wei Wuxian beams at him unrepentantly, but, at the very least, does not say a single word more, leaving the room with a jaunty wave, his husband walking so quickly ahead of him that he’s in danger of breaking the Lan rule about no running.

“Guess it’s just us again,” Jiang Cheng growls, crossing the room to look for a jar of wine in the cabinet against the wall. Down the hallway he sees a servant hesitating, peering through the open door, clearly wondering if she’s needed, and he waves her away and closes the door.

Nie Huaisang raises his eyebrows and accepts the cup of wine Jiang Cheng passes him. “Is that really so bad, Jiang-xiong?”

Jiang Cheng flops down into a seat with a groan. “Sorry, uh,” he clears his throat and offers Nie Huaisang a vaguely apologetic grimace, “I’m just… in a bad mood. Not your fault.”

“Well, maybe I can cheer you up,” Nie Huaisang grins, winking at him over the top of his fan, and Jiang Cheng can’t help but snort.

“Yeah, alright.”

This does not seem to be the response that Nie Huaisang was expecting, as his sly expression turns startled and his eyebrows lift again. He clears his throat, glancing away as he sips at his drink, which is… weird. Nie Huaisang has never been awkward around him before. He wasn’t sure Nie Huaisang knew how to be awkward.

“So, uh, are you expecting any… company, tonight?”

Jiang Cheng blinks. “Company? No?”

Nie Huaisang meets his eyes over the rim of his cup, and there’s something oddly intense in his gaze, “Would you like some?”

“I… already have some?” Jiang Cheng squints at him, “You’re here.”

Nie Huaisang pauses, then laughs, shaking his head. “Yes, I guess I am. I just wanted to check that you still wanted me here.”

What the fuck is going on? Jiang Cheng glances around the room, checking the windows, wondering if this is some sort of bizarre prank and Wei Wuxian is about to jump in to scare him any minute now.

“Yeah, of course I do. Why, did you want to leave?”

“No, no,” Nie Huaisang says quickly, “I’d quite like to stick around actually.”

Jiang Cheng snorts and downs the rest of his wine with a quick jerk of his wrist. “Ha, don’t think that hiding out here in Yunmeng will get you out of trouble with your da-ge. Have you pissed him off again or something?”

“What! No!” Nie Huaisang takes another sip of his wine, “Da-ge’s actually been way less angry lately. Things got pretty bad for a while, but he’s doing a lot better.”

“Doing better? Was he sick?” Jiang Cheng feels a bolt of horror shoot through him; it’s been years since the war, but he thinks he and the other young masters of his generation will see Nie Mingjue as their General for the rest of their lives. If the man walked into the room right now and demanded Jiang Cheng follow him into battle, he would pause only to put down his drink and pick up his sword. The idea of someone as legendary as Nie Mingjue (Chifeng-zun!) making it all the way to peace time and then dying of something as mundane as an illness is devastating. “He seemed fine at the conference!”

“Ah… yes and no.” Nie Huaisang flicks out his fan idly, “You know that the Nie are prone to qi deviation because of our sabers? Well, he did so much fighting in the war that his qi got really bad. Things were pretty touch and go.”

“Oh, and then he got poisoned at Jinlintai a few years ago, right? At A-Ling’s hundred day celebration?”

Nie Huaisang’s mouth flicks up at one corner, which is not a reaction that Jiang Cheng was expecting from this topic of conversation. “Yes, but that was, uh, unrelated. Sort of. Anyway! What matters is that he’s doing a lot better now! Really got that qi under control.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jiang Cheng mutters as he reaches for the wine jar. He gestures with it to Nie Huaisang, who proffers his cup for the refill.

“Yes, the experimental treatment he’s been trying has been working wonders.”

Jiang Cheng grins as he sets the jar down, raising his eyebrows at Nie Huaisang, “You must be feeling pretty pleased with yourself in all this, though.”

“Me?” Nie Huaisang blinks, “Why?”

“Well, you don’t use your saber, do you? So you don’t need to worry about any of this happening to you. Must be a relief, right?”

“Oh. Yes. Haha.” Nie Huaisang tilts his cup from side to side a few times, watching the wine with lips pursed, and then quickly carries on, “But, uh, we do still all have a sort of… hereditary tendency towards qi deviation. It might still happen. To me, I mean. One day.”

Jiang Cheng clears his throat. Gods, what a fucking ass he’s managing to be today. “Ah. I’m sorry.”

They sit in deeply uncomfortable silence for several moments. Jiang Cheng squirms. He sips at his drink just for something to do. Things are never weird between him and Nie Huaisang, that’s something he’s always really deeply valued about their friendship; no matter what else is happening around them, things are always easy with Nie Huaisang. What the hell is going on?

“So,” Nie Huaisang says brightly, “I heard you were blacklisted by the matchma-”

“Huaisang, is there something you want to say?” Jiang Cheng snaps, “You’re being weird, and it’s getting annoying. Have you broken something expensive?” When Nie Huaisang’s brow furrows and his eyes dart away shiftily, another potential cause hits Jiang Cheng and he groans, “Oh god, have you slept with one of my disciples? Look, so long they’re an adult and they’re into it, you have my blessing, I don’t care. You don’t have to ask my permission or anything.”

To his surprise, Nie Huaisang bursts out laughing. He barely sets his cup down on the table in time before he’s rocking back on his cushion, feet kicking a little under his robes, only just catching himself with one hand behind him, the fan in it clacking against the wooden floor as the other covers his mouth, turning his smothered laughter into an unflattering snort. It immediately stokes the irritation inside of Jiang Cheng, but it is, at least, better than the awkwardness. He drums his fingers on the table until Nie Huaisang sits back up, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Oh gods, I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I? Jiang-xiong, I haven’t slept with any of your disciples.” Nie Huaisang flips out his fan and grins at Jiang Cheng over the top of it. His teeth glint in the light of the lantern on the table, and something about the sight makes Jiang Cheng’s mouth go dry in a way he can’t quite explain.

“I was trying to figure out how to ask if I could sleep with you.”

“Me?” Jiang Cheng asks, and his voice comes out embarrassingly high-pitched. He clears his throat then tries again. “You want to sleep with me?”

Nie Huaisang shrugs, but there’s still a strange intensity in his eyes, “Well, why not? Do you want to sleep with me?”

Jiang Cheng looks around the room frantically; this must be a prank, right? Why on earth would Nie Huaisang ask him this sort of thing, of all people?

“I… I don’t…”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes soften immediately, and he reaches out to pat Jiang Cheng’s hand. “Jiang-xiong, it’s okay, you can say no and I won’t be offended at all - I’ll never bring it up again, I promise, and we can pretend it never happened. I just thought it could be fun, that’s all.”

Jiang Cheng swallows. “Fun?”

“You see, the experimental treatment that my da-ge has been trying… well, it’s dual cultivation. The sex kind.”

Heat races to Jiang Cheng’s face and horror makes his stomach drop. “Huaisang!” He hisses, snatching his hand away, “That’s- that’s your brother! That’s Chifeng-zun! Why are you telling me this? He’d kill me if he knew I knew, and he’d kill you for telling me!”

Nie Huaisang makes a derisive noise and rolls his eyes, “He won’t kill anyone, and I’m only telling you because I know you’re not a gossip. You’re not going to tell anyone.”

It’s true, but it prickles Jiang Cheng’s sense of fairness. He still feels the need to protest, though when he opens his mouth, Nie Huaisang gets there first.

“All the books say that dual cultivation is meant to be really good, and I figured that since you’re a really powerful cultivator, and I’ve got that hereditary qi thing, maybe… we could give it a try?”

Jiang Cheng chews his bottom lip, trying to push down his kneejerk panic at being propositioned, trying to reason the situation out. “You want to try dual cultivating with me… because you’re getting sick? In your qi?”

“Oh, no, no, I’m fine,” Nie Huaisang grins sheepishly, “I, uh, may have over-egged that bit a little. Like you said, I barely use my saber, any potential qi deviation is a long way off. This would be just for fun.” He quickly adds, “And like I said, only if you want to.”

Dual cultivation. Sexual dual cultivation. Jiang Cheng barely knows anything about it, besides the fact that it cropped up quite a bit in the kind of porn that Nie Huaisang passed around at the Cloud Recesses lectures. Everyone in the porn seemed to have an exceptionally good time doing it… though Jiang Cheng isn’t really certain exactly how reliable spring books are.

His immediate instinctive answer is no. Nie Huaisang has promised that if he doesn’t want this, he will never bring it up again. Their friendship will not suffer. And Jiang Cheng does believe him. It would be so easy to turn this down and move on and never think about it again.

But… something stops him. A nagging anxious feeling in his gut that says he’s being… weird about this, because it’s weird to say no to sex, isn’t it? Everyone seems to want it, everyone talks about it like it’s the best thing in the world, so it would be weird to turn down the offer of it, for fun, no strings attached, wouldn’t it? If everyone’s supposed to want it? Wei Wuxian has been half obsessed with sex since he was a teenager, and he’s only gotten worse since he’s started having it. And as much as he hates to think about it, he can do the maths, and he knows that Jin Ling was far too fat a baby to be premature, which means (ugh ugh ugh) that even his sister must have… an enthusiasm for it.

Jiang Cheng has never understood the obsession with sex. He’s never craved it in the way other people seem to, and for the longest time he was convinced that it was just Wei Wuxian being over-dramatic and no one really felt such bizarre urges to such an extreme extent - his shi-xiong was weird about so many other things, after all - but as he’d grown up he’d discovered, to his confusion that he, Jiang Cheng, was actually the odd one out.

Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows are lowering and his mouth is pinching and it seems Jiang Cheng has already missed the window to not come across like an absolute fucking weirdo, shit.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Nie Huaisang says kindly. “Do you want some time to think about it?”

Jiang Cheng swallows. “Yes, I… yes, that would be good. Thanks.”

Stalling is good. It will buy him time to come up with a good excuse that won’t make him sound like a freak.

It’s not until long after Nie Huaisang has left, until Jiang Cheng is leaning on the railings of the pavilion outside of his bedroom, gazing out across the still, peaceful lakes, that it occurs to him that the easiest way to get out of this whole thing without sounding weird would have been to just tell Nie Huaisang that he doesn’t like guys. How the hell did that not occur to him? But he’s sort of missed the boat for that one because someone who doesn’t like guys would have said that right away, as soon as Nie Huaisang propositioned him. They wouldn’t need to think about it, they’d just know they weren’t interested.

Does… does that mean that he does like guys?

No, he knows what being a cutsleeve looks like; it looks like Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and all that’s implied by everyday means everyday; it looks like Nie Huaisang’s treasured porn collection. He doesn’t like guys like that.

He… sort of assumed that he didn’t like anyone like that. Is that a way people can be?

Jiang Cheng takes a hearty swig from the jar of wine and glares out at the lotus like the answers to his tangled up questions are hidden amongst the flowers.

–//–

He lets the thoughts percolate in the back of his mind as he catches up on paperwork the next morning.

He could still say no to Nie Huaisang. The idea of admitting to the fact that most days he feels like sexual desire is a big joke the rest of the world is playing on him makes him want to throw himself in the lake, but it is an option. Nie Huaisang has known him for several years now, he probably already thinks he’s weird and he still likes him despite that. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.

The other option is, of course, to go through with it. To say yes to sex.

The concept isn’t… repellent. To be honest, if he stops thinking of it as sex and breaks it down into its constituent parts, it sounds… fine.

The prospect of nakedness doesn’t bother him; he’s been in the lakes in just his trousers for most of the week, and Nie Huaisang still propositioned him, so clearly there’s no issue with his scars, or his body in general. And as for under the trousers - well, a dick is a dick is a dick, as far as he’s concerned. That’s no big deal.

The physical stuff is somewhat more nerve wracking, but again, when he breaks it down, none of it is too terrible. He’s jerked off before, so he knows that part of it will feel good. The little he knows about dual cultivation from Nie Huaisang’s porn indicated that the person with the higher cultivation should be passing qi to their weaker partner, which would mean-

In the middle of reviewing a trade agreement with Yunmeng’s biggest fabric dyeing workshop for this year’s lotus harvest, Jiang Cheng has to take a moment to set down his brush before he snaps it in his hand, and just breathe, and let the burning in his cheeks dissipate.

How stupid and immature. If he’s thinking about doing it, he should be able to use real words to describe it!

So. If he goes through with this and accepts Nie Huaisang’s proposition, Jiang Cheng will be fucking him in the ass, in order to create some sort of qi loop - he doesn’t know the specifics of the technique, but given that Nie Huaisang suggested it, Jiang Cheng assumes he does. The cultivation part of it is something he is a little curious about, if he’s honest, and it actually increases the appeal of the sex itself. According to the stories, although dual cultivation is mostly about the weaker partner becoming stronger through the joining, it does help boost the cores of both partners. So long as he thinks about the dual cultivation as a cultivation exercise, rather than something that has to be… well, sexy, it actually feels manageable. Maybe even interesting.

And besides, Nie Huaisang will be leaving the day afterwards. If the sex is absolutely utterly terrible, then they can go their separate ways, and they’ll have a good few months until the next time they meet to privately erase every moment of the night from their memories, and pretend it never happened.

Jiang Cheng finishes up his paperwork feeling… optimistic. He hands everything over to his second in command (a very capable outer Yu cousin who had proved her worth during the war when Wei Wuxian had been unable to step up as Vice General) and then heads out to meet his guests.

Their plan for the afternoon is to go out on the lake in boats, to fish and pick lotus seeds, so that Jiang Yanli can make them soup for the last night of their trip. They split into two groups to fit in the long narrow boats; Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli naturally go together, with their children, which leaves Jiang Cheng to take the boat with Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and Nie Huaisang.

It’s fine. It’s not a problem.

It’s just that once again, he’s got that alone-in-a-crowded-room feeling.

Once again, this was something he was meant to do with his siblings - something they did every year as children and then teenagers that he’d wanted to recreate as adults, so they could all remember the people they lost and remind themselves of how lucky they are to be together again now. Having everyone else there isn’t a problem, it’s just…

He feels the hot sun beating down his back as he looks around; A-Ling is half in the water as he leans out of the boat to shovel lotus seeds into his basket, sped up in his harvest by his five year old competitive spirit; Jiang Yanli is laughing so hard she’s almost tipping the boat as Jin Zixuan tries to wrestle a handful of unpeeled seeds out of the fat toddler fist A-Lu has shoved in her mouth; Wei Wuxian has made a hat out of a large lotus leaf and is lounging with his feet in the water supposedly luring in fish whilst Lan Wangji meticulously examines and peels lotus seeds one by one for him to eat; Nie Huaisang is almost as meticulously examining and collecting lotus flowers to use in some creative project or other he wants to begin when he returns to Qinghe, and occasionally squawking when Wei Wuxian kicks water at him.

It’s not bad. It is, by all accounts, a beautiful and wonderful day spent with his family and friends. He should enjoy the sun and the water and the quality time.

(So why is there a pit yawning in the middle of his chest that, somehow, makes him feel so heavy he could sink right down to the bottom of the lake?)

Lan Wangji is first out of the boats and onto the dock, lowering a hand to help his husband up, and then obligingly lifting out both children. Wei Wuxian scoops up A-Lu onto his shoulders, then challenges A-Ling to a race back to the kitchens; A-Ling always accepts a challenge if he thinks he has a chance to win, and immediately takes off at a run, Wei Wuxian laughing as he follows. With both kids distracted, Jin Zixuan takes the opportunity to show off for his wife, wrapping one arm around her waist and leaping up onto the dock effortlessly supporting her weight, finishing the move with a cheeky kiss to the side of her neck.

Jiang Cheng hauls himself up onto the dock, and when Nie Huaisang whines, reaches down to take him by the elbow and support him as he climbs up with his bounty of flowers. He glances over his shoulder at Lan Wangji, sedately following Wei Wuxian with a large basket of individually picked and peeled seeds, and Jiang Yanli, who has her arm looped through her husband’s as they meander along the dock after their children.

What would it be like to be part of a matching set again? His brother and sister have moved on to new horizons and don’t need him anymore, but there is someone who wants him…

He follows the others back along the docks and walkways with Nie Huaisang at his side, mind distant as his friend chatters away about nothing of consequence. He feels far away from everything, like he’s looking at himself from the outside. He tries to imagine belonging in this scene; Jiang Yanli has Jin Zixuan, Wei Wuxian has Lan Wangji…

What if he took up Nie Huaisang on his offer? The offer is only of sex, but that’s still something. Being cultivation partners isn’t nothing.

He’s never really wanted a partner, not really. He’s always been satisfied with his sect and his family and he always thought that would be enough - he deliberately got himself blacklisted by the matchmakers so that no one could pester him about marriage, for gods’ sake - and yet the closest thing he can find to a label for this pit in his chest as is loneliness, and all of a sudden he finds himself craving something he can call all his own, someone who’ll carry his baskets and hold his arm. The romantic and sexual stuff is irrelevant, he doesn’t really care about that side of it. He just wants someone who’ll put him first. Someone who’ll make him a priority, and won’t up and leave for someone more interesting.

Nie Huaisang calls to Jiang Yanli, asking some question about a particular flower that grows at Lotus Pier during a different time of the year, and she rests her chin on Jin Zixuan’s shoulder to look back as she answers, letting him guide her along the walkways. The simple display of trust and gentle, casual intimacy makes the pit in Jiang Cheng’s chest yawn wider.

He knows in that moment that he will take Nie Huaisang up on his offer. He never thought he would be the type of person to have casual sex with a friend, never thought he’d crave someone’s touch and attention like this, but as he makes up his mind, it’s easy to see all the puzzle pieces fit together. Nie Huaisang has been his friend for years, he’s someone Jiang Cheng trusts absolutely - perhaps not with everything, but certainly with his pleasure and body and happiness - and someone whose company he consistently enjoys. Nie Huaisang might tease him, but he won’t judge him. Maybe they won’t be any good at sex, and maybe they’ll fail to dual cultivate; somehow, those thoughts don’t fill him with dread any more, because the more he tries to imagine things going wrong, the more his mind conjures images of them fumbling and laughing together over it all. They’ll still find some way to have fun with it, he’s sure.

Jiang Cheng supervises A-Ling chopping vegetables for dinner. He fetches more water for the pot. He changes into clean robes and returns to the family dining pavilion to eat. He smiles and chats and kicks Wei Wuxian under the table, and all the while, something winds tighter and tighter inside his belly that feels like anticipation, and… perhaps even excitement.

–//–

“Hey, so, uh,” Jiang Cheng says, the moment he and Nie Huaisang are alone after dinner, “I thought about what you said yesterday.”

”Oh!” Nie Huaisang physically perks up, straightening in his seat, eyes widening, “Okay, what did you think?”

“I think… yes. To the dual cultivation. I think we should try it.”

Nie Huaisang’s whole face lights up, and a small part of Jiang Cheng can’t help but be charmed by how transparently pleased his friend is. Nie Huaisang wants him. And that feels good.

“Great! That’s great!”

Jiang Cheng nods his head towards the door, “So… do you want to go to my room? Or yours, or…?”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes grow huge again, and he blinks rapidly, “You mean - tonight? You want to have sex tonight?”

“Is that not what you-?” Jiang Cheng feels heat rush to his cheeks and he grimaces, “I thought that was what-”

“No, no, we can do it tonight! That’s fine!”

“We don’t have to if you weren’t-”

“Tonight is absolutely fine, Jiang-xiong, tonight is great!”

Jiang Cheng huffs, trying to will his ears to stop burning, “But I misunderstood. You didn’t mean tonight.”

Nie Huaisang reaches out to take his hands, grinning - and he grins wider when Jiang Cheng frowns at him, “You seemed pretty unsure last night so I didn’t want to assume, that’s all. I didn’t think I’d get so lucky! I would love to have sex with you tonight. That would be amazing.”

Oh gods. His ears feel like they’re hot enough to set on fire, and that anticipation feeling clenches in his gut again. He nods. “Okay,” he says. Like an idiot.

“I am going to go and have a bath,” Nie Huaisang says, releasing his hands and climbing to his feet, “and… meet you at your rooms in an hour, say?”

Jiang Cheng nods again “Okay,” he says, again.

Like an idiot.

Nie Huaisang flutters out of the room with a bounce in his step. About ten seconds after he disappears out of the door, he pops his head back in, waving his fan for Jiang Cheng’s attention.

“An hour!”

“Yes, yes, I heard you,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, but Nie Huaisang is grinning as he disappears again and it’s… cute. His excitement is cute, and infectious, so he can’t quite help smiling.

And then the smile immediately drops as it occurs to him -

What the hell is he going to do for an hour?

#the untamed fanfic #Sangcheng #background xuanli #background wangxian #background 3zun #I mean they’re very much part of the plot but that’s not the focus here #the waves are rising and rising #extra scene

10 notes · View notes

eleanorfenyxwrites · 8 months ago

Text

Soldier, Poet, King

Part 15

[Beginning] [Previous]

[AO3] [Masterpost]

Almost a year after the last update, have a new chapter 😅 We're actually in the homestretch of it now and maybe that's why I'm slowing down so much (plus like...life, other projects, you know how it goes)

--//--

“Get this fucking brat off me, I said I’m fine!”

Jin Guangyao continues tapping away at his tablet without a twitch; there are still so many meetings to schedule, so many questions to answer in the wake of their ‘press’ junket, such as it was. Just this morning he’d been contacted directly by the most prominent black market Kaiju parts dealer in Shanghai demanding amnesty lest Jin Guangyao find himself dead in a ditch the next time he steps foot outside the shatterdome, so quite frankly he’s got bigger things to worry about than the wet-cat-protesting-his-bath that is Xue Yang.

“You promised, love,” is all Xiao Xingchen has to say for Xue Yang to settle down with only a little more biting, and considering Nie Huaisang has just taken over the task of poking and prodding him from Mo Xuanyu the biting isn’t really much of a threat, save for the vague potential for infection. Who knows where that mouth has been.

“You’re almost single-handedly responsible for the worst turn this war has taken since it began, so I’d say you’ve lost the right to make demands from us ummmm..indefinitely,” Wei Wuxian replies from his makeshift work area in the back corner of the lab, feet up on his desk and also tapping a mile a minute at his own tablet (though whether he’s doing groundbreaking Kaiju research that could also change the entire course of the war or playing a rhythm game is really anyone’s guess; both are equally likely).

“I used your notes so you’re on the hook for it just as much as I am! You’re basically the Grandmaster of fringe Kaiju research and shit, this is all your fault too!!”

“Wow, that’s a boring argument to have heard for the 30th time today. When are you going to get sick of repeating it?” Wei Wuxian yawns. Jin Guangyao refuses to smile at the rather blatant riling-up that Xue Yang so loves to do to everyone else and yet can’t seem to handle when it’s turned right back on him.

“Take it easy,” he calls without looking up from his work; in his peripheral vision he watches Xue Yang attempt another lunge off the slapdash examination table (comprised mostly of a filing cabinet laid on its side and Nie Huaisang’s emergency cot resting on top of it) set up in the middle of the lab, but of course Nie Huaisang hadn’t even needed to be told to tie him down as soon as they’d gotten him on it (“Buy me dinner first, Sangsang!”) so there’s really nothing for him to do but thrash against his restraints.

“Told you he’s feral,” young A-Qing mutters under her breath, sounding mutinous around the chak-chak-chak of chomping on her ever-present bubblegum.

“Yes dear we know he is, and something tells me that cracking open the brain of an interdimensional Lovecraftian nightmare so he could try slurping the contents out like a slushee hasn’t improved things very much,” he replies and feels oddly vindicated when she snorts a laugh into the back of her hand.

A-Qing is…unexpected. He’d heard her calling for Xue Yang to come upstairs that night he and Nie Huaisang had gone to see him at The Cockpit, though of course that evening he hadn’t known precisely who she was or why she felt she had the right to boss Xue Yang around. Finding out that she’s the once-wayward-child-turned-protegé of the Immortals (and that her ethics are significantly more dubious than her benefactors’) had been..a surprise, to put it mildly. Not that he thinks that Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen aren’t perfectly capable guardians, of course, but rather he’s surprised that two distinguished gentlemen such as themselves seem very fond of collecting people who could be reasonably compared to scrungly alley cats and ignoring all their mange and fleas in favor of cooing over how sweet and brilliant they are.

And they are (brilliant, at least, though not any given definition of sweet to anyone except their ‘daozhangs’), but the contrasts at play in their little fucked up family of four are still a bit of a mystery to Jin Guangyao.

It had been A-Qing, apparently, who had hacked the CCTV and the ‘dome’s video feeds long enough to broadcast Jin Guangshan and Jin Zixun’s deaths straight to the communications tower (and the entire city), and as such Nie Mingjue has instructed that she give their security team an extremely thorough rundown of every breach in their defenses that she had exploited. Jin Guangyao still desperately wishes someone had thought to record Nie Mingjue’s reaction when the girl, standing no taller than his abs and thoroughly uncaring of the danger she was putting herself in, had laughed in his face, popped her gum, and told him that it had taken no longer than an hour the afternoon of the Kaiju’s arrival to get her hands on everything digital in the ‘dome, not just their camera feeds. He hasn’t seen his lover turn that shade of red in a very long time, nor ever seen him so sorely tempted to shout at someone less than half his age and height.

Anyway — she’d taken a shine to Jin Guangyao within minutes of Lan Xichen ushering everyone into the ‘dome to avoid further scrutiny by the press, easily picking him out as one of the adults in the room most likely to indulge her quasi-legal and morally gray brand of ethics outside of her beloved daozhangs. So now here she sits, tinkering around with something Wei Wuxian had given her to turn into a signal jammer for anyone outside the ‘dome attempting to access anything on their network or frequencies, and Jin Guangyao has found himself on ersatz babysitting duty.

(She is also, according to Xiao Xingchen, worried about Xue Yang’s health and wouldn’t be able to focus well working somewhere she can’t keep an eye on his condition; an assessment which Jin Guangyao very politely and very secretly thinks is a load of horseshit.)

“Stop biting, Yangyang, or I’m going to have to knock you out,” Nie Huaisang scolds, and Jin Guangyao is genuinely surprised when it works. Xue Yang quiets down and seems resigned to his fate of being hooked up to various machinery to monitor just about every measurable aspect of human life.

“He has nightmares when he’s unconscious,” A-Qing whispers conspiratorially. Jin Guangyao leans over a bit to hear better and keeps his eyes on Xue Yang, wary of his sudden acquiescence proving itself to be a fake-out. “Really bad ones. I think he’s still in their heads a little.”

“Heads? Plural?” Jin Guangyao asks.

“Uh-huh. He Drifted with one but he says it was all of them, all at the same time. Like the Borg.”

Jin Guangyao frowns and feels like he’s missing something, namely whatever the hell the ‘Borg’ are, but Wei Wuxian makes somewhat aggressive eye contact and puts a finger to his lips to shush him and then makes a sort of ‘keep going’ gesture.

Jin Guangyao glares at him for the contradictory instructions but decides he must mean to just keep her talking about the Kaiju specifically, not to get sidetracked on whatever ‘Borg’ is.

“He knew that the last Kaiju would follow him.”

“Of course he did,” A-Qing snorts, shrugging like she can’t be bothered as she returns to her tinkering, “That was the whole point of the plan to kill your dad, but he knew he could do it because they’re all trying to get at him now. All the time. He says they’re calling for him but it’s more like shrieking he can't ever stop listening to.”

Well. Xue Yang is an obnoxious and genuinely dangerous menace, but being relentlessly pursued by an unknown number of Kaijus who can get in his head any hour of the day or night is not a fate Jin Guangyao would wish on anyone. Another glance at Wei Wuxian proves that he’s turned pale and seems to understand precisely what Jin Guangyao does about what that must be doing to Xue Yang’s already tenuous grip on sanity.

“He’s about to overload.”

Jin Guangyao does not jump at Song Zichen’s sudden comment from behind him, his voice is too quiet for that, but it’s certainly a little disconcerting. He doesn’t have time to ruminate on the slightly eldritch creepiness of the Immortals, though, as he looks over at Xue Yang again and is alarmed (to put it mildly) to find that his neck has turned��blue? There’s an entire network of veins standing out under his skin as he strains against his cuffs but they’re the same neon blue of fresh Kaiju blood rather than anything human, and Nie Huaisang seems to realize in the same moment that the new way Xue Yang is straining against his cuffs has absolutely nothing to do with his hatred for being confined.

“Go get the Wens,” Jin Guangyao orders Wei Wuxian, who promptly jumps to his feet in a flurry of papers to tear out of the lab. Xue Yang thrashes around a guttural scream that only barely manages to escape the tightening confines of his throat and Mo Xuanyu lunges forward from where he’d backed off at Xue Yang’s protest in order to take over the various sensors and instruments hooked to him again.

“His readings are all over the place,” Mo Xuanyu reports over the sound of Xue Yang’s screaming. “It’s a miracle he’s not dead, the Kaiju seem to have completely rewired his brain!”

Jin Guangyao takes note of that in a distant sort of way as he stands in front of A-Qing in a futile attempt to shield her from watching Xue Yang’s shockingly rapid deterioration. The Immortals are standing at his head, Xiao Xingchen attempting to keep him from thrashing so much he injures himself and Song Zichen pressed up behind his husband to hold Xue Yang’s shoulders down with a grip so firm his knuckles and fingertips have gone white.

Whatever it is that’s happening to the veins in Xue Yang’s neck is spreading, the same spidery blue veins standing in stark relief in his temples and across his forehead, and he can only assume it’s spreading downwards as well. (With a detached sort of interest he wonders what’ll happen if it reaches his heart, but it’s highly likely that they don’t want to find that out if they also want Xue Yang to survive. Which he does.)

The Wen siblings arrive just as Xue Yang’s screaming is choked off, quite literally, by a profusion of foamy blood, and as Jin Guangyao turns to usher A-Qing fully out of the room he hears Wen Qing calling out orders to her brother and everyone else in the room, taking charge of the emergency with her usual deft authority.

“Wait — is he dying? For real?” A-Qing asks, suddenly sounding every bit her very young age. “Wait stop, Yao-ge, stop! He’s not allowed to die unless I kill him!!”

“He won’t die,” Jin Guangyao says smoothly, though he and A-Qing both know that’s not something he’s actually capable of guaranteeing. “I promised him I’d send him away from all of this, somewhere nice in the countryside where no one would ever bother you or him or the daozhangs again. I’ll keep my promise but you must calm down.”

A-Qing is small but she’s ferociously strong for someone her age; Jin Guangyao grapples with her in an attempt to keep her from running back into the lab, their heights and strength almost evenly matched. For a long moment they stand there locked in a struggling stalemate until A-Qing bites his shoulder and Jin Guangyao manages to get a foot hooked around the back of one of her ankles to kick her feet out from under her and bear her to the ground with the loud clang! of bone on metal.

Jin Guangyao winces for the bruises that maneuver definitely left on his knuckles, but that’s preferable to giving poor A-Qing a concussion simply because she’s afraid for Xue Yang’s life. He grits his teeth against a pained shout as A-Qing throws her head back to grind his bruised hand hard enough into the floor that he feels the slight texturing of it for grip start to grate the skin off his knuckles, but still he refuses to let her up.

“Alright come here pipsqueak, up you get.”

Jin Guangyao doesn’t even entertain the thought that Wei Wuxian would dare talk to him like that, so he simply rolls to the side to let A-Qing pop up off the floor — and barrel straight into a much more secure hold in Wei Wuxian’s arms, where she struggles hard against his superior height and strength, and instantly loses.

“Qing-jiejie’s got him under pretty heavy sedation, Xuanyu’s trying to figure out what the fuck that was but he’s stable for now,” Wei Wuxian reports around the ruckus of A-Qing struggling to kick him in the shins.

“No! You’re gonna make him even crazier, I just told you!” A-Qing practically screeches. “Do you want all the kaijus to know where you are? You just locked him in there with them!!”

Jin Guangyao stands and dusts himself off as Wei Wuxian uses his grip on A-Qing’s arms to spin her around to face him, suddenly as intense and serious as he only gets in the midst of battle.

“His nightmares, you said. The Kaiju are actually trying to talk with him? In real time? They’re actively communicating with him?”

“They’re in his brain, Xian-laoshi!” A-Qing wails, “And you just stuck him in there with them and he can’t get out!”

“Okay, I hear you,” Wei Wuxian soothes, though Jin Guangyao notes that he still hasn’t released his death grip on A-Qing’s scrawny biceps, holding her rooted to the spot in front of him. “We’ll wake him up as soon as we can, you have my word. But he’s a danger to himself right now until we can figure out what’s going on with him, physically, and we don’t want him to hurt himself any more than he already has. Do you hear me?”

A-Qing wavers for a long moment, glancing back at the door to the lab like she wants to make a break for it, but in the end she just sags in Wei Wuxian’s grip and nods, clearly miserable.

Jin Guangyao is suddenly very aware that for all her genius and her scrappy alley-cat bluster she’s still only a teenager, and a young one at that.

“I understand.”

“Do you want one of the daozhangs to come take you back to your quarters?”

“...Bai-daozhang.”

“Alright, we’ll get him. You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s going to be fine.”

Jin Guangyao doesn’t even wait for Wei Wuxian to realize that — in this one singular instance! — Jin Guangyao is prepared to do whatever he thinks best without question. He turns back to the lab and steps into the controlled chaos that is the Wen siblings dancing around each other with hardly a word needed as they attempt to save Xue Yang’s body while Mo Xuanyu and Nie Huaisang frantically get all the data on his mental state that they can possibly scan for in the interim.

The Immortals are, thankfully, simply standing to the side to watch the proceedings with eerie stillness, not even seeming to blink as they stare at Xue Yang lying motionless under a soft cage of wires and IV drips, acupuncture needles sticking out of him in the few places where nothing is stuck to him.

“Xiao Xingchen?”

Xiao Xingchen’s gaze is intense when he turns it on him, his perpetually-smiling lips set into a grim line for the first time since Jin Guangyao has met him. The effect is startling, to see someone so gentle pushed so far, but Jin Guangyao is not a man easily cowed.

“A-Qing is asking for you; she’s…distressed by the current situation.”

“Ah.” Xiao Xingchen’s icy expression softens ever so slightly. “Of course, just give me one moment and I’ll take her somewhere less fraught.”

Jin Guangyao nods and tucks his hands behind his back to hide the way he’s clutching at one thumb in the curl of the opposite palm, squeezing it to ground himself. He watches, curious, as Xiao Xingchen turns to step directly in front of his husband and the pair of them lock eyes for a moment, right hands on each others’ temples and thumbs pressed to the curves of their cheekbones just below the eye. They stand in perfect stillness for a long moment and then break apart at some signal only they can understand.

His confusion must be too obvious, as Xiao Xingchen offers him a crookedly sly smile as he approaches.

“Our cybernetics are capable of linking to one another,” he explains and gently shepherds Jin Guangyao back out into the hallway by the strength of his magnetic presence alone. “What he sees I will see and vice versa, until we break the connection again. It takes some getting used to, but it’s quite handy.”

“I can imagine so,” is all Jin Guangyao can think to reply. They step into the hallway again and find that A-Qing is at least no longer being restrained, merely standing miserably at Wei Wuxian’s side though she perks up a little at the sight of Xiao Xingchen at his side.

“Come here, sweeting,” Xiao Xingchen soothes and A-Qing runs to his side, tucking up under his arm like a duckling to drape his over-long, trailing sleeve over her own shoulders like a blanket. “A-Yang will be fine, he’s in the best place possible for this to happen, hm?”

A-Qing nods but says nothing as Xiao Xingchen starts to lead her away, still murmuring warm, gentle reassurances that calm even Jin Guangyao, though naturally they aren’t aimed at him. When they turn the corner and he’s alone in the corridor with Wei Wuxian, he glances at his companion and pauses at the look on his face.

He’s seen that contemplative expression often since the Wens arrived and Wei Wuxian began helping Mo Xuanyu with his research in earnest. That’s the look of a man barely more sane than the evil genius strapped to the examination table a mere 20 feet away who has an idea that no one is going to like very much, save for himself.

“What are you thinking?” Jin Guangyao prods, despite his self-preservation instincts screaming at him not to encourage whatever new madness has grabbed hold of Wei Wuxian.

“The scans can’t really tell us much,” he muses, thinking out loud, “because his brain has become…different, let’s say. He has new synapses, new types of signals firing between neural pathways that we don’t know how to read or understand what they do because they’re not human signals. And we can’t keep him sedated much longer or I think the Kaiju hivemind or whatever it is really will just turn his brains into porridge; we’re barely holding off a total overload as it is.”

Jin Guangyao is following so far, but he can’t fathom the conclusion, whatever it is that Wei Wuxian has thought of that’s put that manic gleam in his eye.

“So what do you propose we do instead?”

The grim smile that slashes across Wei Wuxian’s boyishly charming face is chilling, and Jin Guangyao has to put conscious effort into not letting his shoulders creep up around his ears.

“He Drifted with a Kaiju brain, ah? I think it’s time somebody tried Drifting with him.”

Jin Guangyao can’t help but wrinkle his nose at the thought of being privy to any more of Xue Yang’s thought processes than he already is. That just doesn’t sound like a good time at all and he certainly wouldn’t have volunteered for such a job even before his brain became part-Kaiju soup.

By the time it hits him a mere moment later that Wei Wuxian means to do it himself — to Drift with Xue Yang now, while he’s being bombarded with signals from the Kaijus no matter the fact that they’ve seen how much damage it’s done to Xue Yang — the man has already brushed past him to hurry back into the lab.

“A-Sang stop scanning, plan B – bring that rig over here, hook me up.”

Jin Guangyao needs to stop this, they’re already down two highly experienced, infinitely valuable pilots and they cannot afford to lose another, especially not one as good as Wei Wuxian and not for something so stupid—

He’s off like a shot down the corridor in an instant, feet pounding on metal grates and concrete floors as he flies through the Shatterdome with grim purpose, ignoring every twinge and ache in his old injuries; he can worry about them later, for now he darts between startled denizens of the ‘dome without apology until he can burst into Nie Mingjue’s office. He slams the door open without knocking and is thankful to whatever miracle of genetics gave him his eidetic memory that remembers precisely what his partners are (meant to be) doing at all hours of the day and where.

The Twin Jades look up from the data tablets and report readouts spread on the table between the three of them, equally startled looks in their wide eyes.

Xichen recovers first and asks, frowning, “A-Yao? What is it, love, what’s wrong?”

He can’t breathe past a stitch in his ribs but he forces himself to gasp anyway, “Wuxian is about to Drift with Xue Yang — he’s going to try to understand what he’s done with the Kaijus from the inside.”

Jin Guangyao stumbles to the side just in time to avoid being bowled over by Lan Wangji bolting from the room swift as an arrow, Lan Xichen barely sparing a moment to glance first at Nie Mingjue and then him before he follows on his brother’s heels at a dead run.

Jin Guangyao bends over to try to catch his breath until he feels large, hot hands pull him straight again and keep lifting until his feet are dangling a few inches off the floor, his arms slung over Nie Mingjue’s shoulders so he can stretch out properly and take all the pressure off his ribs and back.

He sucks in a deep, unobstructed breath and then another, and after the third Nie Mingjue carefully sets him back down on his feet.

“Where are Xingchen and Zichen?” he asks, eyebrows pinched like he’s got a headache coming on.

“Zichen’s in the lab, Xingchen took A-Qing away, I don’t know where. They won’t leave the ‘dome though, I’m sure.”

“I want them in here ASAP, Zixuan and Yanli too if they can make it — I’ve got questions and I’m fucking sick of waiting for the answers.”

–//–

Lan Xichen runs through the shatterdome as fast as he can, chasing little more than glimpses of his brother’s white jumpsuit and the dark ends of his hair whipping around corners as people scatter out of their way with a sort of organized efficiency. He can only hope that they don’t leave panic in their wake — they’re at least running away from the communications tower and the Kaiju sirens are, of course, silent. He doesn’t have time to worry too much about that, though; his priority now has to be Lan Wangji, because Lan Wangji’s will be Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji loves Wei Wuxian past the point of rationality. This has been true for years, long before the pair of them were given the opportunity to work in proximity and let their youthful infatuation mature into something well-rooted in mutual respect and regard for each other. Lan Xichen has been Drifting with his brother since they were teenagers, and though they don’t share their thoughts whilst in the Drift in the same way the other Pilots do, that doesn’t mean Lan Xichen hadn’t known. That kind of devotion isn’t something one can tuck conveniently away in the silence of meditation, and Xichen had done what he could to help his brother nurture that love through obstacles many people could never imagine.

He knows precisely what it will do to his brother if Wei Wuxian loses himself in the way that Xue Yang has. He also knows that if Wei Wuxian must lose himself then Lan Wangji would rather be lost with him than be left behind again to wonder if there was anything he could have done differently to help Wei Wuxian avoid this in the first place.

Wei Wuxian’s inexplicable disappearance to Yiling so many years ago had been difficult for everyone, really.

Lan Xichen practically skids into the research bay mere moments after Lan Wangji and stops himself from careening into it headlong with one hand braced on the doorframe. Lan Wangji, a mere two steps ahead of him, has not stopped voluntarily, that much is clear. He isn’t struggling, but Song Lan and Wen Ning both have death grips on his arms and apologetic looks on their faces when they glance up at Lan Xichen’s arrival. He can see in the next moment why they’ve stopped Lan Wangji with some force; Wei Wuxian is already deep in the Drift, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands in white-knuckled fists on the arms of the chair pulled up next to the exam table Xue Yang is strapped to, the latter thrashing weakly enough that he isn’t dislodging any of the dozen or so tubes and wires stuck into him.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lan Xichen asks Wen Qing, standing calmly behind Wei Wuxian’s seat with her hands cupped carefully around either side of his neck.

“If Hanguang-Jun interrupts them now Wei Wuxian may never come back.”

“His brain activity is only slightly abnormal, no more than if he were at risk of chasing the rabbit,” Nie Huaisang pipes up from behind the bank of computers, Mo Xuanyu typing furiously at his side. “Xue Yang was slipping but he stabilized fully once they started Drifting — it’s actually helping I swear!”

“How is this even possible?” Lan Xichen can’t help but ask, feeling helpless in a way he absolutely does not care for. “Xue Yang is hardly sane, let alone Drift Compatible with-”

Lan Wangji is utterly blank, cold as ice, when he interrupts, bleakly, with, “Wei Ying is a true universal Drifter.”

Wen Qing doesn’t do them the disservice of pretending to be surprised, though Lan Xichen vaguely wishes that she would. But of course, if there’s anything abnormal in Wei Wuxian’s medical history, she would be the first to know it. And his siblings would hardly ever betray such a lucrative secret, not when Wen Ruohan would’ve used him the same way he’d used Xue Yang — destroyed him, the way he’d done to Xue Yang.

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of monitors beeping and the ragged, uneven breathing of so many people on edge in the same room.

“The ability to establish a successful Drift with a partner is no guarantee that one will not be injured in the process, even in standard procedure. What are the odds that this connection will destroy his neural pathways beyond repair?”

Wen Qing glares at him first and then Lan Wangji, though whatever she’s thinking she doesn’t let it stop her from answering a curt, “50/50.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath in and stands to his full height, doing his best to compose himself and draw an air of authority around himself, no less a suit of armor than his flight suit. “Song-daozhang. Wen Ning. Please release Wangji.”

They do so after a moment’s hesitation and Lan Wangji snaps his sleeves straight again with sharp tugs on the cuffs, his back ramrod straight in a mirror of Lan Xichen’s. Lan Xichen steps further into the room to stand at his brother’s side, a united front, and curls his hand carefully, unsure of his welcome, around Lan Wangji’s wrist in silent comfort. Lan Wangji naturally doesn’t return the gesture, but he doesn’t pull away either so Lan Xichen leaves his hand where it is, the thick canvas of Lan Wangji’s jumpsuit a comfortable barrier between his grip and his brother’s distaste for physical touch.

Lan Xichen counts to a hundred and thirty-seven before something changes; the steady, muted beeping of one of the monitors abruptly ratchets higher, faster, and Mo Xuanyu’s face goes grim as he begins tapping away at his keyboard, his eyes flying from side to side as he reads whatever strings of data are lighting his face up green.

“It’s okay,” he has the good sense to caution, though he doesn’t look away from his monitor for even long enough to glance at them, “they’re fine, whatever it is they’re experiencing they’re doing it together, still aligned.”

Song Lan shifts his weight suddenly, nothing more than a redistributing of his weight from one foot to the other, but it grabs Lan Xichen’s heightened attention before he’s even completed the motion. He spares the man a glance just as he cocks his head and turns to look at the door behind them.

“What is it?” Lan Xichen asks, his grip tightening unconsciously on Lan Wangji’s wrist.

“Xingchen just told me Chifeng-Zun has sent a runner asking for us. A-Qing doesn’t want to let him go, but we can no longer delay the inevitable. Nor do I wish to.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath, consciously forces himself to release his grip on Wangji’s wrist one aching finger at a time, and both asks for and receives his brother’s forgiveness for the bruising restraint in a pair of glances and a slight nod that he returns.

Honestly Nie Mingjue has been unusually patient waiting even this long to have his questions answered. He has waited without complaint through the recovery period following the battle, through all the planning and soothing of the press, and now through the thoroughly unexpected arrival of Xue Yang and the Immortals. But time is up now, his partner’s patience is wearing thin, and Lan Xichen can admit at least to himself that his own near-infinite patience is depleted as well.

He finds himself torn between a desire to stay here in the lab to support his brother in fretting over the question of Wei Wuxian’s survival against such unique odds and returning to Nie Mingjue’s office to learn the truth from the Immortals. Just as much as he wants to support his brother, he wants to support his partner in his efforts to clean up the mess Xue Yang has dropped on their doorstep, and the desire to do both simultaneously has him at something of a loss-

“Bring them out of it!”

Wen Qing’s sharp order cuts through the tension of the entire room; before Lan Xichen (or Wen Ning) can stop them, Song Lan and Lan Wangji have crossed the room to their respective partners. In the split second before Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu manage to do as she’s said, both Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang scream loudly enough that blood flecks their colorless lips, and by the time they both slump forward, unconscious and eerily silent, they’re being unhooked from the rig as quickly as Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu can work.

In the sudden silence, Lan Wangji’s soft, “Wei Ying,” is unbearably loud.

–//–

“It’s not as bad as we thought, but it’s also worse,” Wei Wuxian rasps; the fact that he’s hunched in his seat and only able to sit upright with Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin bracing him on either side is quite nearly the only thing stopping Nie Mingjue from wringing his neck, his talent and genius be damned. Jin Guangyao rests a restraining hand on his wrist below the table as if he can sense how close he is to losing control. (He supposes it’s entirely possible that he can.)

Xue Yang looks even worse than Wei Wuxian, ashen-faced and a stray drop of blood or two like black freckles on his chin. He’s braced on either side by the Immortals, of course, whose character judgment Nie Mingjue is beginning to question. Deeply.

“Explain.” Really, he should be applauded for his restraint.

Wei Wuxian clears his throat with a little cough that looks like it hurts. “They know what he knows about the pilots, the Jaeger program, our research, everything, but-”

“I didn’t know much-”

“Only what Wen Ruohan wanted him to know and pass along for his own purposes-”

“Not that they understood it much more than we understand them-”

“But obviously they know enough to start mimicking the Jaegers and this is the really interesting bit-”

“They’re built like an assembly-line churning out giant evil monsters that want to beat your ass flat-”

“Well yes but you know, without any sort of personal desire to murder anyone in particular because they’re not necessarily individuals. We keep using the word hivemind-”

“And it is a hive, like really giant freaky bees-”

Nie Mingjue slams his free hand on the tabletop and the back-and-forth between Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang mercifully comes to an abrupt halt.

(“Ooo we made Daddy angry,” Xue Yang mutters, snickering weakly, which Nie Mingjue is electing not to hear.)

“How is this better than we expected, A-Xian?” Jiang Yanli asks, her hands twitching on the tabletop like she wants to reach for her brother even though she’s sitting too far away to reach him.

“The information Wen Ruohan gave them through Xue Yang wasn’t as thorough as we thought; it was designed to manipulate their behavior, not give them blanket information about everything and everyone in the Pilot program,” Wei Wuxian explains, thankfully alone. “If he knows what fighting style they’re going to use next then he can counter it, and if he can tell them when it’s best to attack Tokyo and when to attack Shanghai or Manila or Sydney or San Francisco then it’s all to his benefit. He can control not only his spoils and his money but also his image. He just did it for the first time when he sent the last kaiju to us and instructed Eternal Sun to swoop in to save the day.”

Jin Zixuan rests a hand over Jiang Yanli’s as he asks, “And how is it worse?”

“The connection with Xue Yang has been open every minute since the first time it was initiated several years ago.”

There are no words that Nie Mingjue knows to describe the wave of revulsion that sweeps through him at such a thought, but judging by the expressions he can see around the table on the faces of the rest of those to whom this is news, they’re all feeling the same.

Personal feelings aside, that isn’t a fate he would wish on anyone, not even Xue Yang. To have every moment, waking and sleeping, for years subject to the incomprehensible, violent minds of intergalactic monsters? It’s harsh but someone should’ve done Xue Yang the kindness of putting him out of his misery a long time ago.

“But not anymore,” Xue Yang rasps, bringing Nie Mingjue’s attention back to him. He’s grinning in a way that doesn’t look at all like a smile, sharp and flat with pink-stained teeth.

“That’s temporary,” Wei Wuxian says and he looks distinctly cagey, “I just tried something theoretical-”

“Oohhh it’s not theoretical Wei-gege,” Xue Yang cackles, hacking and coughing like a cat with a hairball, “you’ve done it plenty of times before! Just turned a nice little switch in my brain and made it all go quiet, I saw it!! Saw it in your head, saw it in mine-”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Jiang Wanyin cuts in, jaw clenched and eyes flashing.

Jin Guangyao clears his throat, a pointed reminder to stay on topic that Nie Mingjue’s temper certainly appreciates. Crisply, he says, “You will have plenty of time to discuss it between yourselves later. What I would like to know is what we do next with the information we have. You have now seen the structure of the Kaiju homeworld — we should use this to determine the best way to eliminate their threat to humanity.”

As much as Nie Mingjue would like to feel like they’re coming to some sort of productive conclusion, the fact of the matter is that of the eleven people in the room, four of them are far too injured to sit through a lengthy strategy meeting and they are, unfortunately, the four most important voices. (He supposes it’s really seven injured, if he includes himself and his partners in the list considering they’ve fulfilled the duties Wen Qing gave them medical leave to complete and are due to submit themselves to her care in the medical bay the moment they leave this imromptu meeting.)

He makes no effort to hide his displeasure about all of this as he sighs a heavy, “No,” and fixes a steady stare on his old friends (and Xue Yang). “That will have to come later. All I want to know for now is what you three want from me. You came here for some purpose, and as much as I would like it to be so, I don’t think you’re here to reforge old ties.”

It is, unsurprisingly, Xiao Xingchen who smiles ever so slightly, unashamed of being caught, and nods, his shoulders curving by an inch or two to turn the gesture into a small hint of a bow.

“It was partially driven by a desire to see you, Mingjue, under much better circumstances than when we parted. It was equally a desire to seek out Wei Wuxian, who A-Yang felt certain would be able to help with his condition. The state of things could not be allowed to continue with the danger posed to humanity, but my Shifu could do nothing for him. She has abstained from worldly concerns and is not as knowledgeable on the issue of fringe Kaiju research as Wei-gongzi; she defers to his expertise.”

Wei Wuxian looks rightly poleaxed by such praise, though Nie Mingjue thinks his deathly pallor and the deep bruises under his eyes (the whites of which have turned the violent red of ruptured blood vessels) contributes, rather gruesomely, to the look of shock.

“And then what?” Nie Mingjue can’t help but ask, glad for Jin Guangyao’s hand still on his wrist below the table, and thankful for Lan Xichen’s hand creeping onto his knee on the other side in silent solidarity. “Xue Yang has put all of mankind in the gravest danger imaginable. He’s a threat to humanity because he exists. Even if we can help, what do you expect me to do when it’s over? Let him go?”

“Yes.” Song Lan’s computerized voice is cool and neutral, of course, but his expression belays some sort of strong emotion beneath the calm surface he always maintains. “He has delivered the tool for humanity’s salvation into the hands of your resident genius, and what Wei Wuxian knows soon you will, too. The gift of knowledge and his cooperation in neutralizing the threat he poses, combined with the protection Jin Guangyao has offered him in exchange for his assistance, will repay his debts and leave him free.”

Nie Mingjue does not glare at his partner beside him, who doesn’t even twitch at the mention of whatever it is he’s promised Xue Yang this time. Of course Nie Mingjue knows that Jin Guangyao has always had a vested interest in keeping Xue Yang alive for his own purposes, but what he would have thought was the most important of those purposes has been accomplished; Xue Yang killed Jin Guangshan, what further use could Jin Guangyao have for him?

They can argue about it later. Jin Guangyao has apparently promised Xue Yang his protection, which means Nie Mingjue must once again let go of his fantasy of separating the man’s head from his shoulders. He grits his teeth but manages to push his anger aside for the moment to get back to the matter at hand.

“Fine.”

“The world is changing, old friend,” Xiao Xingchen says, soothing and understanding in equal measure, “and our time is ending. The war must be won soon, you know this. The Jaeger program is limping along, rotting from the inside as it falls prey to greed and complacency. We had no doubt that your righteousness-” Xue Yang snorts; he goes ignored by everyone in the room “-and sense of justice will not allow you to step down while there’s still a fight to be had, and you are one of the few Shatterdome leaders we felt we could trust with the truth of Xue Yang’s misdeeds. Many others would treat it the same as Wen Ruohan has done and attempt to use it for their own personal gain, but we know you will only use it to end this once and for all. That’s why we came here, and when Xue Yang is no longer a danger to himself or others we’ll leave again to go where no one else can find us.”

Silence reigns after such a pronouncement for a few long moments, broken only when Lan Xichen sits up straighter with the faint rustling of his canvas jumpsuit.

“This temporary solution that you’ve employed, Wuxian — is it enough to buy us time to rest before we begin attempting more permanent methods of severing the connection?”

“It should be — if it fails, Wen Qing or Wen Ning will know how to create the same effect.”

There’s some history here that Nie Mingjue is missing, but now doesn’t seem like the time to push it. Those who have been injured are fading quickly (Jiang Yanli has already had to shake her husband awake once), and he’s aware suddenly of how the steady worsening of his temper is likely the result of his neural pathways continuing to weaken as Wen Qing warned they would. As much as he would like to see this resolved now, he can’t ask so much of his partners or his pilots (or, he begrudgingly adds, Xue Yang).

“Fine,” he huffs, slapping his open palm once on the table in punctuation, “everyone is ordered to rest. Barring any emergencies we’ll meet again tomorrow at 1100 hours to strategize. Xue Yang and Wei Wuxian will return to research for monitoring. Dismissed.”

There’s a flurry of movement as most everyone stands either under their own power or assisted by those around them. Jin Zixuan spares him a tight nod before he leans his weight heavily on the handles of Jiang Yanli’s wheelchair and the pair of them leave, held up in the doorway for a moment as the two pairs of three attempt to navigate their exit without letting Wei Wuxian or Xue Yang crumple to the ground.

Nie Mingjue is left alone with his partners, and Lan Xichen wisely stands to shut the door so softly the metal doesn’t even clank against its frame.

“What the fuck have you promised him?” Nie Mingjue asks with no preamble, his gaze fixed on the handle of the door as Lan Xichen sits down in the seat across from them that his brother has just vacated. “A-Yao what have you done?!”

“I did what I had to, and there’s no use being angry at me. I’d do it again in a heartbeat even knowing what we know now, and no amount of yelling will change it.”

Nie Mingjue hates that he’s right; he at least slams the side of his fist down against the table, the boom of it startling Lan Xichen enough to make him visibly jump but he waves off Nie Mingjue’s apologetic grimace immediately.

“I should have killed him years ago when I had the chance,” he growls. “When this is over I never want to see him again. Ever.”

“That won’t be a problem; I’m sending them overseas to the States, or perhaps Canada — somewhere far enough inland that the kaiju are little more than a horror story, where the only impact of an attack is a week’s delay in imports. Whatever intervention Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing will devise to sever his mind from the kaijus’ won’t cure the damage already done, nor will it prolong his life for more than five years, at most. He should live out his remaining years enduring the trials of being loved inexplicably by two of the most righteous men the world has ever seen. He’ll be miserable enough to sate even your desire for revenge within six months.”

Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in, holds it for a count of five, and exhales again slowly. Jin Guangyao’s hand is still on his wrist and he rubs small circles into it with his thumb — it’s as much of an apology as he’s going to get, and he’s just going to have to accept that.

“We should report to Wen Qing. I’m sure she’s going to scold us no matter when we go but we shouldn’t worry her more than necessary, hm?” Lan Xichen murmurs, smiling softly when Nie Mingjue catches his eye. “We’ve gotten our answers and there’s not much more we can do until Wei Wuxian has recovered anyway. I’d like to see you take care of yourself for once, Mingjue.”

“Don’t single me out, we’re all shit at it,” Nie Mingjue grumps, but he stands up anyway and pulls Jin Guangyao with him, watching him closely for any signs that his headlong run from research had aggravated any of his old injuries. Jin Guangyao wrinkles his nose at him when he notices him watching, but Nie Mingjue just ducks in to press a firm kiss to his forehead (offering the same to Lan Xichen holding the door open for them when they pass) and leads his partners out of his office and into the labyrinth of the ‘dome.

They traipse in silence down to the medical bay, Nie Mingjue’s mind churning over the new problems that Wei Wuxian’s Drift with Xue Yang has created, but when they reach their destination he forces himself to put the matter aside for the time being.

“Chifeng-zun,” Wen Qing greets, unimpressed, when they step into the main triage room. “Zewu-Jun, Lianfang-zun. Finally.”

“You told us we could delay until the press had been soothed and the metaphorical fires put out,” Lan Xichen reminds his friend. “We came as soon as we could.”

It’s clear she doesn’t agree but she just jerks her chin towards one of the private examination rooms, and when they troop along behind her Nie Mingjue finds it’s already set up for them, the Drift rig moved over from research and three cots already made up with crisp linens fresh from the laundry. She’s even done them the courtesy of pushing the cots close enough together that they can comfortably touch each other while lying down if need be (though he can’t help but notice that she’s left a conspicuous enough gap between them that it’s clear anything more acrobatic is strictly off-limits).

“I’ll take you through a Drift myself first, a simple connection test like the first to establish the neural link and ensure it’ll stay stable for longer than a few minutes. You’ll then rest under observation until 0600, and if I decide you’re ready for more then Wen Ning will be in after breakfast to run you through a proper simulation to see how you fare in drop conditions. Questions?”

“Many,” Jin Guangyao dimples. “None about our treatment, but I would like a chat this evening while we’re resting, if you would be so kind.”

“My time is in high demand, Lianfang-zun.”

“As is mine, so I thank you for accommodating me.”

Nie Mingjue ignores the urge to smile as Wen Qing visibly bites down on what has to be a retort that she hasn’t actually agreed to do so, but he knows firsthand how useless it feels to go against Jin Guangyao when he’s decided to be stubborn like this. She folds with a nod and a sour little twist to her mouth, and Jin Guangyao at least has the good sense not to gloat over his victory (though his partner does wink up at him when he turns to approach the Drift rig). Nie Mingjue follows his partners over to the rig and he could swear he can already feel himself relaxing, the promise of the comfort of their minds slowing his heart rate and narrowing his focus to the immediate present in a way he almost never gets to appreciate.

He sits still through the familiar process of being hooked up and settles automatically into an almost meditative circuit of breathing and calming his mind further as Wen Qing gets Jin Guangyao connected next and finishes with Lan Xichen, her hands working deftly over the tangle of wires and sticky pads to connect them to his skin-

“WEI WUXIAN!!!”

Nie Mingjue is too calm to jump — but only just. The door to the medical bay slams open with a deafening clang and he and Wen Qing shout a reprimand in chorus, “JIANG WANYIN!”

She continues, “I have patients!! Get out of my med bay if you’re not dying!”

Wei Wuxian comes barreling into the room first and Nie Mingjue thinks, at a glance, that actually he might be dying. He has to clutch at the door frame to stay upright, his face is pale as bone and his eyes are, of course, still blood-red from his Drift with Xue Yang, and he’s panting like he’s just run a marathon.

“Wuxian,” Lan Xichen breathes and, as he’s only half-wired in, quickly divests himself of the various nodes in favor of getting to his feet and hauling Wei Wuxian upright just as twin lines of dark red blood begin to drip from his nostrils.

Wen Qing hurries past them to stop Jiang Wanyin, just barely visible over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder; he’s clearly distraught, his teeth bared and his eyes red-rimmed and glittering with furious tears.

“Don’t you dare protect that bastard-” he grits out, straining against Wen Qing standing in his way to block him from his brother.

Nie Mingjue sighs heavily and starts unsticking all the wires Wen Qing had just placed on him, Jin Guangyao doing the same beside him with an equal air of resignation.

“Your idea to push them all to their limits,” he mutters to his partner under the sound of Jiang Wanyin continuing to hurl abuse at his brother barely staying conscious in Lan Xichen’s arms.

“Your idea to support the Pilot exchange project in the first place,” Jin Guangyao retorts — a weaker argument than he’d usually make, but Nie Mingjue isn’t in the mood to press his advantage.

“Wen-daifu, Wuxian needs attention. Where’s Wangji?” Lan Xichen asks, his question answered in the next moment when Lan Wangji sweeps into the medical bay looking icy enough that Nie Mingjue would swear the temperature drops at least a degree or two from the force of his fury alone. It’s a wonder that Jiang Wanyin doesn’t seem at all intimidated at his entrance — instead he looks somehow even angrier. In fact, he looks damn near apoplectic when Lan Wangji steps up behind Wen Qing to further block Jiang Wanyin’s access to Wei Wuxian.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Nie Mingjue finally snaps, his voice carrying over and cutting through the rest of the panicked, angry chatter like a cleaver. Jiang Wanyin opens his mouth, and Nie Mingjue fixes him with the hardest glare he can. “Do not start shouting at me, Jiang Wanyin, or nothing Wen-daifu can do will save you.” The audible snap of the man shutting his mouth does less to assuage Nie Mingjue’s temper than Jin Guangyao resting his hand on the small of his back.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji calls, low and intense, and all attention in the room zeroes in on them as Lan Xichen transfers Wei Wuxian’s weight into his brother’s arms.

“Get him over to a cot, Wangji. Wanyin, get out.” Wen Qing steps smartly away, clearly expecting to be obeyed. Wangji carefully lifts an unprotesting Wei Wuxian into his arms and lays him down carefully on the nearest bed and Nie Mingjue realizes he’d looked like he was awake but he’s not conscious, or at least he’s not aware. His eyes are darting back and forth, flickering between things that aren’t there, and his mouth is moving in constant soundless muttering that puts the hair up on the back of Nie Mingjue’s neck.

“Come on, Wanyin,” Lan Xichen murmurs; he’s tugging gently on Jiang Wanyin’s arm, trying to get him to move in the direction of the door, but the man is standing, unmoving, staring in dawning horror at his brother being carefully held down by Lan Wangji and prodded at by Wen Qing’s acupuncture needles.

“You idiot,” he finally whispers, his expression twisting from horror to anguish, “You goddamn idiot!!”

Wen Qing doesn’t even look up from her work to snap, “Wanyin get out!! I’ll talk to you later!”

This time Jiang Wanyin allows himself to be towed out of the room, and Lan Xichen shuts the door quietly behind them, cutting off whatever Jiang Wanyin starts shouting as they go.

“What happened?”

“Wanyin demanded to know what Wei Ying did to Xue Yang.” Lan Wangji’s voice is quiet but his disdain for his partner’s brother is clear enough. “Wei Ying did not wish to answer, but when Wanyin’s continued insistence triggered this episode, your brother revealed the truth.”

Wen Qing sighs, her lips thinning with obvious displeasure, but she doesn’t pause in her work.

“I’m assuming these are the questions you would like answered as well, Lianfang-zun?”

“An astute observation.”

Wen Qing sighs again and stands up straight as before, her hands resting lightly on either side of Wei Wuxian’s neck, her thumbs pressed carefully against his jaw as he slips into true unconsciousness. His eyelids don’t even flicker with the movement of his eyes anymore; he looks far too like a corpse for comfort like this, but at least he doesn’t look like a man possessed.

“It was a secret I promised to take to my grave, but if A-Ning has told Wanyin already then I can’t keep it from you. You need to Drift first as soon as Zewu-Jun comes back, but after I’ve stabilized all of you, including Wuxian, then I swear I will tell you everything.”

“Everything,” Nie Mingjue emphasizes, catching Wen Qing’s glare with one of his own. “You’re not in Tokyo anymore, Wen-daifu, and anyone who wanted to profit off of secrets in this Shatterdome is dead.”

Wen Qing’s eyes flicker to Jin Guangyao at his side, but Nie Mingjue isn’t sure whether she wants to argue that that isn’t true, with Jin Guangyao for her example, or if she’s checking to see if he’ll react strongly again to the reminder that Jin Guangshan is gone. Either way, Jin Guangyao doesn’t even so much as twitch at his side.

She hesitates for a few beats longer before she nods with obvious reluctance. “Fine. Everything. We’ll need Mo Xuanyu to bring us Wei Wuxian’s research.”

“There are horrors in Wei Ying’s past that he has kept from his siblings for many years,” Lan Wangji speaks up, too quiet to startle even though Nie Mingjue had nearly forgotten he was there, so still and silent he’s been while he sits at Wei Wuxian’s side. “He has developed a way to carve up his mind and isolate sections of memory and thought; there are things he does not wish for them to ever know.”

Nie Mingjue is glad for the practice of navigating Lan Xichen’s polite roundabout phrasings to help him understand the heart of what Lan Wangji is getting at now.

“Anything we learn will remain completely confidential, Wangji. You have my word.”

“And mine,” Jin Guangyao adds, and though Nie Mingjue doesn’t quite understand why he deemed it necessary, Wangji’s shoulders only relax ever so slightly after the second promise is made.

“Mn.”

“Go back to your treatment,” Wen Qing instructs them in her ever-professional brusque tone. “I’ll be in with Zewu-Jun to start the Drift in a moment, this changes nothing.”

Nie Mingjue levels her with a final significant look before he turns to do as instructed — he’s long since learned not to test a doctor’s temper — but as he ushers Jin Guangyao out of the room ahead of him he can’t help but overhear Lan Wangji’s quiet but firm reply,

“No, Wen-daifu. This will change everything.”

#the untamed fanfic #3zun #pacific rim AU #Soldier Poet King #background wangxian #background xuanli #background/implied songxuexiao

16 notes · View notes