#i feel the need to tell everyone that nhs brought espresso shots to the hospital instead of flowers or normal gifts after jingyi was born

[stiltonbasket]

Lxc has to give up coffee and other high-caffeine products during pregnancy and he is suffering. He loves coffee and strong teas. NMJ is giving them up too in solidarity.

this hc was too cute so i just had to write a ficlet for it ;-; take some soft nielan with a side of good friend song lan!!

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Discounting last week’s cappuccino incident, Lan Xichen has been managing his cravings for coffee like an expert.

That isn’t to say that going without tea or coffee has been easy, though. Lan Xichen works in a law firm and gets less than six hours of sleep, most nights--he practically lived on caffeine when he first joined the firm, and most of his fellow attorneys still do. But his coffee intake was only one of several unhealthy habits that his doctor ordered him to stop to prevent any possible harm to his as-yet unborn son, and handling his largely pro-bono workload has been nearly impossible ever since.

“One day at a time, Lan Xichen,” he mutters to himself, while he prints out an email from one of his clients. “One day at a time.”

“Lan-xiong?” someone says from behind him, startling Xichen so badly that he knocks his favorite paperweight to the ground. “What’s wrong?”

“Liao-xiansheng just sent me an email,” Lan Xichen sighs, spinning around in his desk chair until Song Lan leans over and grabs one of the armrests. “Apparently, the records he has weren’t proof enough the last time he tried taking this to court, and he didn’t bother telling me about it before today.”

Song Lan winces. “It’s just one more hearing,” he says sympathetically. “Doesn’t your parental leave start two weeks from now?”

“That’s two weeks that I have to keep following all my doctor’s recommendations while dealing with the Liao case,” Xichen reminds him, while Song Lan drops to one knee to pick up the fallen paperweight. “And that means no coffee and at least eight hours of sleep every night.”

“I don’t remember the last time I slept for eight hours at a stretch,” laments Song Lan. “I never get to bed before midnight, and A-Qing always wakes me up before seven, even on the weekends. I’d have died if someone told me to stop drinking coffee.”

Lan Xichen throws up his hands in miserable agreement. “Exactly! And Luo-daifu even told me to stop wearing my heeled shoes, but I can’t exactly go to court without them.”

“How many inches do they give you, again?”

“Three,” he says dismally, extending one long, black-clad leg and staring at his polished leather shoes. He isn’t short in any sense of the word, but his natural height puts him at about two inches below Wangji’s and nearly four inches shorter than his husband, so he usually wears shoes with inserts out in public to bring himself up to a hundred and eighty-five centimeters. “And I can’t take painkillers for my feet until the baby comes, either.”

“I wonder if I was a good enough son, sometimes,” Lan Xichen reflects later that day, after returning home and taking a much-needed nap in his husband’s warm arms. “I hope I was, if having me and Wangji was this difficult for my mother.”

Mingjue brings out a comb and starts brushing Xichen’s long hair, carefully combing out the tangled ends before giving him a light massage for his shoulders. “I don’t think you and Wangji ever gave her a moment’s worry,” he says gently, leaning over to kiss Lan Xichen’s forehead. “Did anything happen today, sweetheart?”

Lan Xichen has to blink back tears at the tenderness in his voice, because even after sixteen years of friendship and three years of marriage, the depth of his husband’s adoration never ceases to take him by surprise. It shows itself most often in quiet moments like this, alone in their little house with no one else to witness their affection, and Lan Xichen sometimes wonders if his heart might actually burst with love from everything Nie Mingjue has ever said or done in his presence.

“My feelings are all over the place, that’s all,” he replies, with a watery laugh. “I know it’s supposed to be normal--but A-Jue, I spent my lunch break crying over coffee. Zichen nearly had a heart attack when he found me, I scared him half to death!”

Nie Mingjue only hugs him tighter. “You love coffee, though. And getting up early, and eating soft-boiled eggs, and everything else Luo-yisheng told you to give up.”

“Those things don’t matter, since they’re for the baby,” Lan Xichen reminds him, snuggling closer to his husband’s side. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you gave up drinking coffee, too. You gave your loyalty card to Huaisang, didn’t you?”

“Has it helped?” Nie Mingjue says earnestly, taking Lan Xichen’s breath away all over again. “That I haven’t been making it at home or drinking it when you’re not here?”

Lan Xichen is almost ashamed to admit that it does help. He’s had to cope with most of the changes that come with having a baby on the way, so sharing a little of the burden with the love of his life means a great deal to him, even if it seems like it shouldn’t. In fact, Mingjue has been following a healthy diet for the past seven months as part of his efforts to make sure that Lan Xichen eats well, and he even changed his sleeping schedule so that Xichen could get as much rest as possible: or at least as much as his career allows, considering the number of clients he takes.

How did I get so lucky? Lan Xichen wonders, as Mingjue’s lips brush over his cheek. What have I ever done, sweetheart, that you love me as much as you do?

“It does,” he confesses, after a brief, comfortable lull filled with sleepy kisses. “I’d never have been able to do this without you, my heart. Any of it.”