asgardchrysalis | Closed - Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian

"The rooftops aren't as nice here," Wei Wuxian muses, though whether he's speaking to his vodka, the moon, or the gods above and below is anyone's guess. "Tiles are prettier, and how will the rain drain away when it's all flat?"

Still, it's easier to lie on a flat roof than an upturned eave, and certainly easier to balance one's open bottle on. Wei Wuxian aims an unfocused smile at the patch of white growing in his vision, and after a moment more, he straightens in surprise. "Lan Zhan! You've come all the way up here?"

Lan Zhan hums in agreement, frowning lightly at the squat, flat buildings with their rough exterior. They are ugly and he finds himself longing for the familiar, graceful lines of Gusu Lan Sect. "Gutters," he answers, having learned the answer to that question having seen one in action. Gutters are also ugly.

He folds his legs underneath him and settles gracefully, reaching out to snatch the offensive bottle and replace it with his ceramic jug. "Found this. Have made plans for more," he murmurs, feeling oddly shy as he sets the bowl down between them. "Congee. Very spicy. For you."

Gutters. The word slides oddly through Wei Wuxian's fogged thoughts, but the sudden absence of the cool bottle in his hand sobers him right up. "You - " he starts, only to realize that his hand isn't empty. He lifts the jug to his nose, his eyes almost absurdly large when he realizes - "It's wine! And this is - "

Ducking down, Wei Wuxian fills his nose with the smell of congee spiced red with chilis. "So hot, Lan Zhan!" He hadn't even known there was rice here, let alone wine. He gazes at Lan Wangji in wonder. "How?"

Lan Zhan carefully sets the mostly empty bottle of vodka on the other side of himself, out of reach of Wei Ying's hands. He hands over a pair of chopsticks, relieved to have been given them as the tableware in this place is baffling and he imagines Wei Ying finds it much the same.

"Listening to gossip," he admits, ducking his head in only mildly truthful admonishment. He knows he should feel badly about it. He largely does not.

"Listened, found someone from a place more like our own. Lives in Odinhaus. Knows how. Wanted to find it for you."

It's almost enough to make Wei Wuxian wish he'd slept in his assigned barracks instead of under the stars, who knows what kinsmen he might find there? But the spice of the congee has his attention now, and he lifts it, drinking the rice porridge right from the bowl.

"It's good!" he declares, helping himself to another large swallow even as pink creeps over his cheeks. It had been hard to find anything of sufficient heat on the road, and he'd all but despaired of it here. How clever Lan Wangji is to have ferreted it out so swiftly.

"Lan Zhan has gossiped," he says into the bowl, turning the idea over in his head. Perhaps he's more inebriated than he thought, but for a moment, he thinks Lan Wangji looks a bit proud. Leaning over, Wei Wuxian knocks a shoulder against his own. "Isn't it fun to be scandalous?"

Lan Zhan rolls his eyes when Wei Ying forgoes utensils and carefully does not comment either way on the concept of 'fun'. It certainly was useful and he wonders how much more information he's missed over the years simply from forgoing socialization.

"Have been granted permission to grow rice along the river," he announces, making no effort to move away from Wei Ying's side. "Will learn, will grow more and will make more of this for Wei Ying. After the war, if we come back, there will always be enough," he promises. He knows it is both their duties, but a selfish part of him wished for peace.

Wei Wuxian blinks into his bowl. Lan Wangji is a man of few words and careful action. It isn't truly a surprise that he's accomplished so much already, but it is a surprise that he's deemed such action necessary.

"For me," he repeats, feeling an uncertain smile tug at his lips. As a gesture, it's truly incredible, and though he wonders if Lan Wangji understands how difficult it is to work a rice paddy, he knows that nothing as trivial as hardship will stop him.

And all for Wei Wuxian.

"You don't owe me, Lan Zhan," he says, carefully setting down the bowl. He's newly aware of the scars crisscrossing Lan Wangji's back, and he keeps his eyes on his face. "So much work. You don't have to do it for me."

Lan Zhan blinks at Wei Ying, turning towards him when his usual drunken levity disappears. He'd thought Wei Ying would be pleased, amused at the idea of Hanguang-Jun trying to farm, but pleased.

"I have made you uncomfortable," he says, voice uncertain as he tries to figure out what he has done wrong. It must be too much, too much attention or effort. It's always pleased him to give to Wei Wuxian when he can, whether it be through action or food or drink. It's all he can do with what he feels. But this, apparently, was too much.

Wei Wuxian is drunk, limbs loose and cheeks warm, but he's not so far gone that he doesn't immediately answer, "You're the only one who doesn't." He stares at him, struggling to align his sloshing thoughts, for even in this state he can sense that this is important.

"You are my friend," he says. "A friend as no other has been to me. That is already a dozen rice paddies, Lan Zhan." With the smell of rice liquor in his nose, it's impossible not to think of Lan Wangji on that strange, drunken night, confessing as he would never do sober that he had regrets.

"I don't regret what happened when - when things were very bad," Wei Wuxian says carefully. "Lan Zhan doesn't have to, either."

He startles, leaning away as Wei Ying mentions the last thing Lan Zhan wants to discuss. His regrets are numerous, they are deep and painful and one hundred rice paddies producing the finest Emperor's Smile would not soothe them. He has had three years of confinement to consider them.

"You are my first friend, only friend," he says, looking away to avoid saying too much. He wants so much, so badly. He wants things he cannot have but all of it, all the feelings have to go somewhere. They must have an outlet.

"Wei Ying should not have regrets. Owes none. If the rice paddy is too much, I will give the rice away."

Not for the first time, Wei Wuxian wonders how such a thing is possible. Lan Wangji is difficult, yes, too proper, too restrained, yet his friendship is steadfast, his faith and his loyalty unwavering. To dare be his only friend is to be the most selfish man in the world, but Wei Wuxian can't say the thought of so much devotion doesn't warm him. It's only...he must be careful. Lan Wangji seemingly has no defenses against his own heart, and Wei Wuxian can't be the one to hurt it.

"A rice paddy is just right, if it pleases Lan Zhan to tend," he says. Uncorking the wine, he pours some at last into his mouth. After the vodka, the taste blooms against his tongue as sweet and gentle as summer rain, and Wei Wuxian hums in pleasure. "But Wei Wuxian will have fun, too. " Another gentle knock of shoulders.

"We'll do it together."

Lan Zhan forces himself to relax, unclenching his muscles one by one until he is once again sitting in as relaxed a stance as he can allow himself.

"Wei Ying only wants to do this to make fun of Lan Wangji," he argues, imagining much too well the sight he will make attempting to dig and plant and all manner of things. "Never farmed, before. Won't...do things properly right away."

And that is the crux of it, the embarrassment at being seen in such a state of uncertainty.

"Wei Ying wants more of this," Wei Wuxian corrects, pouring more blessed rice wine down his throat. He wipes his chin and grins at him. "Does Gusu have a rule against not being perfect at every task on the first try? Field tending is difficult work."

That being said, Wei Wuxian means to observe every undignified moment. "How could you get it right on the first try? This is why I will help you. And I've only watched! You see?" He nods. "This is why we must do it together."

Lan Zhan in fact suspects that it will be much more like the fishing where Lan Zhan will be far too serious and embarrassed and they will both lose their tempers but he certainly cannot figure out how to build an entire rice paddy in secret.

"Practice is meant to be done in private settings," he explains, thinking of ways to start the work without Wei Ying noticing. "Error and correction is not to be seen outside of the context of Master and pupil."

"Would you like to see the land I have been given?" he asks, thinking there is no harm in at least showing it to Wei Ying. If the battle does not go well, perhaps the land can be given to Wei Ying to farm himself.

Wei Wuxian fixes him with a doubtful gaze, though he's happy to blame Lan Qiren for this particular offense. "Surely it's prideful to hide one's mistakes," he points out, "And better to fail in the open so all may learn. I can only imagine the many lessons I've imparted by now."

He takes another gulp of wine and passes his sleeve over his mouth, nodding. "Is it by the pool we found?"

"Different standards for myself and Zewu-Jun. Expectation was to never need correction outside of training," he answers, although he cannot help but agree with Wei Ying. That does not mean he will seek out the opportunity to fail in public or in front of anyone, but it is not the ideal circumstance to grow under.

He stands and extends a hand for Wei Ying to pull himself up, tucking the vodka and the empty bowl to the side to retrieve later. He doubts Wei Ying will leave the vodka behind, but he can hope.

"Mm. Very near. Will not divert water from the pool. It must remain deep for Wei Ying to fish. Come with me."

Pleased as ever by Lan Wangji's willingness to touch him, Wei Wuxian grasps his hand and allows himself to be pulled up, hanging on to Lan Wangji's shoulder when the night shifts around them.

"Easier to get up than down, now," he laments for the ground some distance below. "I should have asked for powers like a bunny. I could jump jump jump to any rooftop I wish."

Lan Wangji pulls Wei Ying's arm over his shoulder, grasping him tight as he walks them towards the edge of the building. There had been a ladder of sorts, something metal and bolted to the wall that may take more dexterity than Wei Ying has in this state. However, there is little other choice.

"I can carry you down," he says with enough confidence that he's sure he can manifest it into reality. "You hold on to me, to my back. Hold onto the wine as well. Then we climb down."

Wei Wuxian nods at once. It's hardly the first time Lan Wangji has carried him, though if he were more sober, he'd worry about the still fresh scars on his back. As it is, he winds his arms around Lan Wangji's neck, his cheek pressed to his dark hair as he waits to be transported.

"Lan Zhan," he notes, nose full of the peaceful, wintry smell that never leaves Lan Wangji's skin, "You smell the same."

Lan Zhan is unsure why he thought it would take more convincing but...that was incorrect.

He bends just enough to wrap his hands around the back of Wei Ying's knees and hoists him onto his back, carefully maneuvering one leg over the roof.

"Do not," he huffs, voice straining as he carefully puts both feet on the first rung, letting go one one leg to hold on to the ladder. "How would Wei Ying know?" he asks, wondering when on earth he would have smelled him. Also, Lan Wangji has never put much thought into how he smells and now it is all he can think about.

Wei Wuxian laughs against his ear. "How many nights did we spend together in the Tortoise's cave?" he asks, dizzy with memory. It was so long ago, the experience belonging to another's life, yet Lan Wangji is the same. Always the same, steady, steadfast Lan Wangji.

"You smell like snow, Lan Zhan. It's nice."

Lan Zhan's knuckles tighten to the point of cracking when warm breath ghosts over the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. He makes a vow to meditate for an extra hour, tonight.

"Thank you," he murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment before slowly starting his way down the ladder. It is only now he realizes how much Wei Ying's body weight is pressing against him. It can't be appropriate and he's thankful Wei Ying did not choose divination.

"Wei Ying smells nice as well. Often of alcohol."

"Then Lan Zhan has been clever," Wei Wuxian replies, taking little offense when his collar is soaked with vodka. As often as he does it, his aim never seems to improve when he simply points a bottle at his mouth. The thought makes him sigh, and he burrows into the pillow of Lan Wangji's thick hair. "Wei Wuxian will smell of Lan Zhan's liquor. Free publicity."

He is not proud of the thrill that gives him, the idea of Wei Wuxian smelling of something he gave him. It is a possessive feeling he has felt many times before and knows is wrong. He's never been able to stop. If anything it has gotten worse with each passing year.

"Do not plan to give it to anyone but you," he states, bicep burning as he lowers him self with one hand to the next rung, now only a few feet from the ground.

"Wei Wuxian's liquor. Wei Wuxian should name it."

"Just mine?" Wei Wuxian asks, perking up from where he's begun to drift in the comfortable embrace of Lan Wangji's hair. "Then I must name it for you, Lan Zhan. Quiet Cloud," he muses. "No. Winter Storm. Something elegant and deadly."

He stifles a giggle against Lan Wangji's neck. "With such fine tasting wine, it will certainly be deadly."

Lan Zhan can feel his ears redden, even as he keeps his face steady and lowers them carefully to the ground. He makes no immediate move to put Wei Ying down, other hand simply coming down to grasp at Wei Ying's leg yet again.

He is happy to carry him as far as is needed. Wei Ying does not feel like a burden, at all.

"Jade Egg," he murmurs, hitching Wei Ying further up his back, wincing a little at the pull but only for a moment. He starts to walk. "Cloud. Winter Storm. Lan Wangji is like these things?" he asks, hoping it sounds like play but wanting to know. Wanting to know if he seems so cold to Wei Ying.

"HanGuang-Jun is these things," Wei Wuxian replies, not quite realizing they're on the ground yet. Lan Wangji hitches him higher, and he resettles, winding his arms around his chest. "That's why everyone respects him so much. But that's not why I respect Lan Zhan."

He falls silent for a time, almost to the point that he could be accused of falling asleep, but then Wei Wuxian speaks again. "Kind and strong. Indomitable. Generous. Faithful. That's Lan Zhan."

He stops. Lan Wangji stops walking. He has to stop and breathe and be still as he absorbs Wei Ying's words. He should not have set Wei Ying up in that way, to be expected to say something to the contrary.

But he did not expect this. Praise based on his heart and not simply his mind. After so many years carefully cultivating walls to keep himself untouched by the world and his heart shielded, it is stunning to be seen. He wishes he were all of those things Wei Ying had listed but they are all the things he would like to be, at the very least.

"Thank you," he whispers, blinking carefully and evenly to keep his eyes dry and emotions at bay. He turns his head, cutting his eyes over to try and see Wei Ying.

"I respect Wei Ying, as well. Like who Wei Ying is."

"I know," Wei Wuxian answers, his voice nearly as soft. He doesn't know why, but Lan Wangji has never abandoned him, no matter what he thinks of the events at the Nightless City. Wei Wuxian had been past help then, not even himself anymore. Lan Wangji might have regrets, but Wei Wuxian doesn't resent him, even if his continued devotion is both a blessing and a mystery.

"Lan Zhan," he says, "I'll try very hard not to bring you ruin this time, even if it's my singular talent." He doesn't sound as if he's insulting himself, only stating what is. "I want good things for you now."

"Wei Ying was good for me," he huffs, moving them along yet again, the road winding towards the river and the light starting to fade.

"No ruin. Wei Ying has to farm, now. No time for ruin."

He doesn't know how much this Wei Ying knows. It is maddening. But he cannot imagine telling him about the confinement or his back. He is unsure how well he hid it when they swam, but regardless, there would be no reason for the details to ever be revealed. The scars are not a regret.

"Unless I am very bad at farming," laughs Wei Wuxian, resting his head against Lan Wangji's shoulder. Wine soaked though they are, he means every word. Enough people have suffered for his mistakes, his hubris. Lan Wangji can no longer be one of them. Wei Wuxian will just...have to discover the way to stop getting into trouble.

"If I weren't here," he says, curious. "What would you do?" Lan Wangji surely wouldn't be making a rice paddy.

Lan Zhan suspects they may both be very bad at farming but he does not reveal the thought. He will figure it out as he has figured out nearly every other problem presented to him. Hopefully, in the dark and without an audience.

He thinks on Wei Ying's question, weighing how honest he wants to be as they walk.

"Trying to go home. Sleeping outside until forced to pledge," he says, as he knows what he felt the first few days, before Wei Ying. Although perhaps Gusu Lan would prefer he stay in this place, considering how quickly he'd turned back to searching for Wei Ying, once he was able to leave his confinement. This may be his second chance, as well.

"Less happy," he admits.

Less happy.

The words stick in Wei Wuxian's throat like a bone, and he swallows, finding pinpricks of warmth within him despite the discomfort. He's ruined so much of what he touches, but somehow, not Lan Wangji. He's damaged him, yes, but somehow, whether by luck or providence or Lan Wangji's own resilience, he's not destroyed him.

"I'm glad you're here, too," he murmurs. "Life is never quite what it could be when you aren't."

For the most part, Lan Wangji is happy rarely, if ever, speaking to most people. Aside from his own lack in the skills of communication, he does not have the impulse or desire.

Much less the impulse or desire to let his own feelings or heart be known.

However, those few and precious times he wants to articulate his heart, he wishes he had the easy way that Wei Ying does. Wei Ying tosses these statements out as if they cost him nothing.

"Same," he murmurs, leaning his head just a little to the right, to press lightly against Wei Ying's. It is precisely what he wishes he could say. He steps off the path, winding through a grassy field until the river comes into sight. It is even darker here, the stars half covered with cloud. "We're here."

The pressure of Lan Wangji's head is so comforting that Wei Wuxian's eyes slip closed, and he all but slithers to earth when his motion is abruptly halted. Here. They're here.

Wei Wuxian sets a hand to Lan Wangji's shoulder to steady himself, surveying the darkened patch of earth before the telltale burblings of the river. "So dark, Lan Zhan," he murmurs. "We should have brought a lantern."

He turns, hand briefly on Wei Ying's back until he determines he is steady enough to stand on his own. The river moves past them, black as ink and quiet and the noise from the city is faint.

He brings both hands up and points the first two fingers on each towards the sky. His eyes close as he feels that weight inside him, small and weak compared to what he had been used to but still something other than the emptiness.

His fingers touch briefly before separating so his hands can open up and reveal four soft, glowing spheres. His eyes open as they each float to a corner, hovering over a piece of land. "Ours."

For a short moment, Wei Wuxian takes the motions to be quite ordinary. Lan Wangji has used spells and charms as long as he's known him, it's only when Wei Wuxian's wine sloshed mind catches up that he remembers neither of them have their old abilities here.

"Lan Zhan!" he cries in delight, following the nearest orb like a child might a firefly. He reaches out, framing it in his hands as if to hold it, but of course there's nothing to grip. "Odin, then?"

"Mm," he confirms, resting his hands behind his back as he watches Wei Ying follow one of the orbs. He'd been unsure what type of spells he would be taught as the powers here seem personalized and varied.

There had been some delay which Lan Zhan had been fairly convinced was due to his own reticence to open his mind up, especially to an unknown God but he'd received what he can only think of as his Core and his pathway just a few hours ago.

Light. Hanguang-Jun. Seems fitting. However...

"Not as useful in battle as Wei Ying's."

"Of course it is," Wei Wuxian replies at once, poking at the orb now with long fingertips. "I was surprised. Imagine surprising your enemy with sudden, dazzling light! In some situations it might give away your position, yes, but also gives you the advantage of a clear view. It's very good, Lan Zhan."

Turning away from the light, Wei Wuxian blinks into the comparative darkness, walking forward towards Lan Wangji. "Can you do it more than once, or does it tire you as my magic does me?"

He doubts these new monsters will be particularly drunk and therefore dazzled by a few floating lights but there is an advantage of a clear view. Wei Ying's power is much, much more impressive but pressing the matter will bring unnecessary attempts at flattery.

He blinks as Wei Ying turns back towards him again, wishing he could do more just to get the same reaction all over again. Shaking his head, he nods towards the four lights. "Can keep those burning for a time and again once they go out," he explains, face shifting to a brief scowl. "Tires me, eventually. Annoying."

It's embarrassing going from a cultivator of his standing to one who tires after making decorative lights. It's irritating.

Closed - Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian

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