Chapter Text
It takes Wei Wuxian one week to find himself in the school’s infirmary. It’s a lesson he was bound to learn eventually – stop trying to show off in front of your class of six year olds. He could argue (and he does, multiple times) that it’s not his fault that the empty flower pots in the garden were set just out of site from the other side of the vegetable bed. If anything, he was doing them a favour by jumping over it and spraining his wrist. It could have been one of the children.
It’s mercifully close to the end of the day, but Nie Mingjue insists on him seeing the nurse before leaving. Wei Wuxian knows it’s to get him out of the way, but he’ll take a free hour over sitting at the back table and stopping kids from doing exactly what he’d done growing up.
Assisting Nie Mingjue’s class is maybe the worst thing he could have asked for, but the kids are a dream. He’s spent most of the day keeping Lan JingYi from drawing in the margins of his copy book, or at least letting him finish the illustrations before guiding his attention back to the thrill of plant life. It’s apparent that for now, Wei Wuxian’s place as teaching assistant means keeping out of the way.
When he rolls his sleeve up, there’s fluff from his sweater around the graze on his forearm. That flower pot really had it out for him. If not cracking china, then fighting with the paved stone pathway. He’s been sat here for ten minutes, hearing nothing more than the tapping of a keyboard from beyond the office door. Maybe his knock wasn’t heard?
He tries again, standing from the tiny plastic chair and rapping his knuckles against the glass of the window. He attempts a peek through the thin gaps in the blinds, getting an eyeful of carpet and chair leg before the door is opened.
Presumably, this is the nurse. Wei Wuxian adjusts his gaze to make eye contact, offering a smile and his not-mauled hand. It isn’t taken. The man before him looks serenely calm, stepping back and motioning for Wei Wuxian to take a seat on another small plastic chair, only this one has this one has the luxury of a cushion.
“Hi. Wei Wuxian, I’m assisting. First week,” Wei Wuxian introduces himself, travelling across the room and planting himself in the chair, tapping idly on the table beside him. He catches a glimpse of a name on the computer before the nurse sits himself opposite; Lan Wangji.
If Lan Wangji works full time, Wei Wuxian can see himself getting plenty more injuries. There’s an unwavering sense of patience about him. Or there was until it definitely wavers when a mostly empty cup falls with the brush of Wei Wuxian’s hand, spilling half a teaspoon of water at most.
“What’s happened?” Lan Wangji asks while plucking a tissue from the box by his computer, wiping the small pool of water from the otherwise pristine surface. Wei Wuxian wonders if the kids like his tone, contained and safe. Probably more than they like Nie Mingjue’s tone. Maybe that explains his own nephew’s sudden sniffles a few days ago.
“I got into a fight with a flower pot,” Wei Wuxian explains, flopping his woefully scraped arm into his lap to make it more apparent. Lan Wangji takes his time, dropping the tissue into a bin under his desk before peering down, then back up. “The pot won. But I did it to save my kids, so it was worth it.”
He might be imagining it, but Wei Wuxian hears a huff from Lan Wangji at that. Heave. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows, bunching the white and paler-than-pale blue check pattern, and takes Wei Wuxian’s arm in his cool hands; one at his wrist, the other further up his forearm.
“Hm,” Lan Wangji says as he peers over the long scrape. Wei Wuxian can definitely see how this kind of treatment would be soothing to children. It’s almost a shame that he’s a miserable 26 and staring at the most peaceful man he’s seen in that whole time. His stomach flips when Lan Wangji’s gaze meets his own. His eyes are warm gold. “You’ve hit your head.”
“Oh? Oh,” Wei Wuxian frowns when he raises his free hand to his forehead, met with a sharp pain. That fucking flowerpot. “It’s fine, I can still see. I think my hand’s gonna fall off, though. Look!”
Lan Wangji does look as Wei Wuxian lets his wrist flop, then moving to take his hand in his own and slowly raising it until the joint pops audibly. It feels satisfying. “Did that hurt?”
“No.”
“It isn’t broken,” Lan Wangji confirms, moving back to open a small first aid kit and glancing over its content. Wei Wuxian shifts his legs around, glancing around the room as Lan Wangji pores over antiseptics and bandages. There’s the standard hand washing posters, along with a food pyramid and a collection of animated animals promoting healthy eating. He can’t imagine Lan Wangji’s had much say in the décor beyond his own desk. “Wei Wuxian.”
“Wei Ying, please,” Wei Wuxian insists, holding his arm out and feeling all kinds of fuzzy when Lan Wangji’s hands return to his skin, scooting his chair closer. “What d’you think? Am I gonna lose it if we aren’t quick?”
“I’m going to clean you up,” Lan Wangji hums, pressing an cotton ball over the wound lightly, not flinching when Wei Wuxian hisses like he’s being burned. “Lan Wangji.”
Wei Wuxian smiles, watching Lan Wangji’s slow and steady movements. He’s very focused, his presence is calming. There’s something about his expression that makes Wei Wuxian want to melt into the floor. Or something.
“Does Wen Qing still work here?” he asks despite already knowing the answer. It’s a place to start a conversation, maybe. A mutual co-worker they both know. Safe.
“Mn.”
Fuck. A road block. Lan Wangji doesn’t stop his work, his eyes firmly on Wei Wuxian’s arm and nowhere else. “Oh cool. We go way back, I met her and her brother in college. They’re both really great friends,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist idly when his arm goes numb. Lan Wangji tightens his grip, just for a moment. Any blood that was going to his arm redirects straight to his ears by the sound of it. “How long have you been working here?”
Lan Wangji spares him a glance as he finishes with the cotton ball, immediately pulling his chair closer to peer at Wei Wuxian’s forehead. “Can I move your hair? I don’t want to leave that unwashed.” He’s already preparing a new cotton ball, slow and measured. Wei Wuxian nods, leaning in and closing his eyes when Lan Wangji does as he asked. “It isn’t so bad.”
After the initial flinch, being treated so carefully is very soothing. Wei Wuxian hadn’t noticed his headache before it could be melted away with tender fingertips. “I’m gonna smash that pot on my way out. Teach it a lesson,” he promises, cracking his eyes open to watch Lan Wangji’s warm golden gaze. “Any advice? I’m thinking torture. Chipping.”
Lan Wangji’s expression doesn’t give anything away, maintaining his interest in Wei Wuxian’s forehead. “I’m not encouraging this,” he says, squinting before taking his hand away and returning to his desk, hovering over a selection of bandages. “You can take these off tonight. Just keep careful.”
“You’re sweet for caring, Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian smiles, waiting for his arm to be handled again. Lan Wangji hums, unfurling pristine white bandaging and judging it against the scrape. “No colourful ones for me? I like that Hello Kitty one.”
“Stay still,” Lan Wangji instructs as he gets back to work, no offering of the Hello Kitty bandage to be seen. He makes quick work, like he wants Wei Wuxian out of the room as soon as humanly possible. It’s fair, but his pride is still a little wounded. “There.”
Wei Wuxian examines his work, even when Lan Wangji turns around to check his emails, tapping something out with one hand. “What do I owe you? I’m sure Nie Mingjue will pay you for keeping me away from the kids for a while.”
Lan Wangji doesn’t look like he’s going to acknowledge that with a response, tapping away dutifully at his keyboard while Wei Wuxian starts to gather himself. He glances at the clock; it’s almost the end of the school day. If he walks slowly, he might be able to wiggle out of cleaning up duty.
“Keep an eye on Wen Yuan.”
Wei Wuxian pauses, watching the back of Lan Wangji’s head until he turns around. “Sure. Anything I need to look out for?” Lan Wangji shakes his head minutely.
“Just bring him here if he gets overwhelmed. Nie Mingjue knows,” he says softly, averting eye contact when they’ve been looking at each other for a solid two seconds. “He’s a sensitive boy.”
Wei Wuxian smiles, resting against the door frame and watching Lan Wangji busy himself at his desk again. There’s a turquoise rabbit propped up against the monitor, a little Beanie Babie by the look of it. “I’ll keep an eye. He’ll be brought straight to you if there are any sniffles, don’t you worry, Wangji.”
Lan Wangji nods, glancing back up to Wei Wuxian. “Keep away from flower pots.”
“You too, Lan Wangji. Have a good weekend.”
+
“Did a kid bite you?”
Wei Wuxian directs a kick at Jiang Cheng’s ankles, almost spilling his vodka and lemonade in the fumble. The bandage is still on, now exposed to the residents of the closest bar to his apartment. “Yeah, I went to assist just to kick some six year old asses. You inspired me after your run in with Jin Ling’s friends,” he bites, shimmying further into the booth so his brother can sit without spilling his rum and coke. “Really showed ‘em. Thought I’d get some training in before they’re in my class next year.”
The war of their nephew’s fifth birthday party is a fresh wound, earning Wei Wuxian some kicks in return. “You’re not going anywhere near him. I’ll transfer him under A-Li’s nose if it means saving him,” Jiang Cheng threatens, moving to sit around the other side of the booth, next to a very distant Xiao Xingchen. “A-Xin, tell him he’s banned.”
“I can’t ban him, not when love is blooming,” he beams, squeezing Wei Wuxian’s wrist when he starts to protest. Jiang Cheng’s face tells a thousand words. “Wei Ying was just telling me about his visit to-”
“I was telling you, he was just-”
“He?”
“Lan Xichen’s brother, you remember. Lan Zhan,” Xiao Xingchen finishes, moving his hand along the table until he finds the base of his wine glass. Jiang Cheng looks like he’s won a million. “He’s a nurse, Cheng. He patched Wei Ying up, didn’t he?”
By the look on Xiao Xingchen’s face, Wei Wuxian would swear he’s got some supernatural power to see even without his eyes. He takes a sip of wine, patting Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’d snipe me like this. There’s no love blooming! He’s just… I don’t know. I don’t think he likes me much.”
“Well, if he has any sense-” Jiang Cheng begins, shouting into his glass when Wei Wuxian directs a kick to his shin under the table. “You fuck! I hope he lets you bleed out next time you- what even happened to your arm?”
“Flower pot. Fell over it, I saved my kids from certain death,” Wei Wuxian scowls, drinking a mouthful of vodka lemonade and glowering under his brother’s stupid smug face. “I’m a hero. I saved a whole class of six year olds. That could be Jin Ling next year. He could be in danger, and you want to push me out of the way to let him suffer? Bad uncle.”
“I’m not forgetting the goat incident. If I’m a bad uncle, you’re a terrible uncle,” Jiang Cheng jabs, even if the goat incident definitely wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault. He can’t be held accountable for animals and their desire to eat children. “Whatever. I don’t wanna talk about your doomed to fail love life, you’re not gonna get on Lan Zhan in this lifetime. Case closed. How close are you to getting fired after week one?”
Wei Wuxian narrows his eyes, picking at one of the stray threads of his bandage. “Cruel, A-Cheng. My poor feelings,” he pouts, resting his chin in his palms and leaning on the table. “My own little brother doesn’t believe in me, Xingchen. If he has his way, I’ll be single and jobless by the end of the month!”
“The whole bar knows about it now, Wei Ying,” MianMian says from above their booth, tugging at Wei Wuxian’s earlobe until he moves over for her to sit. She’s matching his vodka lemonade, by the looks of it. “A-Xin, what’s going on?”
“Single boy problems. Battling to be the first one to lose their virginity,” Xiao Xingchen smirks, gasping when Wei Wuxian smacks his arm. “With that behaviour, it’s not going to be you. Then again, Cheng’s track record… not looking good for either of you.”
“I fuck!” Wei Wuxian argues, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling. “I fucked all the way through college. I’m so hurt. You’re all ganging up on me now I’ve got stability.”
“Oh, poor baby. What’s this month’s single boy problem, huh?” MianMian asks, leaning forward and drumming her fingers against the table top. “Working with a hottie?”
“Lan Xichen’s brother,” Jiang Cheng says before anyone can even breathe, grinning when MianMian gawps. “Right?”
“Get it, Wei Ying!” she cheers, finally someone siding with him tonight. “Lan Wangji, right? Good taste. Jiang Cheng’s just jealous because Lan Xichen isn’t-”
“Hello!” Nie Huaisang chimes in, shots in hand. “I figured I’d get these in, I know I’m late. My brother was filling me in on Wei Ying’s first week,” he sets his collection down on the table, collapsing in the space beside Jiang Cheng. “since no one else tells me anything. Everyone’s been ghosting me this week.”
“How’s your love life? We’re making fun of the boys,” Xiao Xingchen hums, taking a glass from Wei Wuxian when it’s offered to him. “They’re reverting back to virginal. Battle to incel-dom.”
They all pause to take a shot, a collective shudder rolls through their group of five. Even with how he’s being bullied for receiving medical treatment, Wei Wuxian’s glad to have them all, a monthly break from life. It’s the first time in a while that he’s felt he needs bar night.
“No one’s an incel,” Jiang Cheng is the first to speak, hoarse but determined to not be branded sexless. “Xingchen’s just being cruel because he’s old. It’s set a mean streak in him. And Wei Ying’s horny about getting hurt, I think?”
“I’m not horny! I saved a bunch of kids, and I got taken care of by some nurse, it’s not a-”
“Lan Xichen’s brother,” MianMian interjects, nodding when Nie Huaisang’s eyes widen. Oh great. Now everyone’s gonna pile on the Lan er-gege parade. “Have you seen him recently? Are him and your brother still a thing?”
Wei Wuxian gags. “When was that a thing?” He’s only seen Lan Xichen once in passing, at Xiao Xingchen’s birthday a few years back, but like. He gets it. He’s very dreamy. Now that he’s thinking about it, Lan Wangji has the same kind of atmosphere around him. Horny vibes. In theory. He doesn’t have a thing for Lan Wangji, or Lan Xichen. No one from the Lan family.
When he zones back into the conversation, MianMian’s talking about her neighbour’s dog. He squirms. “He’s definitely trying to eat my cat. And A-Qing tried to talk to her, but after that shit with her son’s birthday last year she’s just been on the warpath.”
“Send the dog away,” Nie Huaisang suggests, sharing a look with Wei Wuxian over the table and grinning. “She’ll never know if you-”
“Kill it!”
“No!” everyone warns, punctuated with a jab from MianMian. Wei Wuxian takes another drink, sitting back as the rest of the group tries to find a solution better than dog murder. Which there won’t be, but he’ll let them try.
+
“Is everything alright?”
A hand on Wei Wuxian’s own draws him from space, Xiao Xingchen’s patient face watching him. They’re the only two left of the group, MianMian, A-Cheng and Huaisang parting in slow succession. The two of them live the closest, but Xingchen is inevitably waiting for Song Lan to stop by for one drink before they leave together.
The thought of it hits him weirdly, that kind of tenderness. Maybe it’s just all the talk of crushing over the evening. They’re about a month from Valentine’s, too. It’s a combination. “Me? I’m fine,” he insists, for once glad that his friend can’t see his Not Fine expression on full show. “I’m just tired, I guess. First week of shepherding children. I’ll get into a rhythm with it.”
Xiao Xingchen has a look on his face that makes Wei Wuxian shrink, but he doesn’t press the issue. “Hmm. I got like that too for a while, at the beginning. You’ll settle into it. Nothing to be scared of but the journey,” he offers, pulling Wei Wuxian into his side for a squeeze.
He’s definitely not just talking about work, but whatever. “I know, I just hate the routine. I chose a job where I need to wake up before 11 five days a week,” Wei Wuxian frowns, returning to his half-finished drink when Xingchen releases him. “And don’t tell me you can relate to that, you’ve always woken up at six.”
“I didn’t in college, thank you, and you can ask Zichen for testimony. My first month felt like I was burning in hell every morning. Still does, sometimes. But it’s worth it for the kids.”
Xiao Xingchen’s half the reason why Wei Wuxian went into teaching. He’d had to drop in an extra set of house keys after Song Lan had been called into work, and the thought of working with a classful of wobbly little three year olds had sold it for him.
His six year olds are cuter, he thinks. They’re very opinionated. “Fatherhood without the emotional turmoil,” he hums against the rim of his glass, snorting when Xingchen laughs sharply. “It is!”
“You’re so new. There’s more emotional turmoil looking after twenty kids that aren’t your own,” he laughs, finishing his wine and resting his cheek against his palm. “The first end of year will break your heart. I know you, you’re as soft as I am.”
“I resent that, but you can think whatever you want. Hey, um. You had Yuan in your class, right? Wen Yuan?” Wei Wuxian asks, recalling Lan Wangji’s concern. Xiao Xingchen’s brows pinch.
“Yeah, is everything alright?”
“I think so. I don’t know, Lan Wangji asked me to keep an eye out for him,” he hums, glancing up when he hears Song Lan’s voice at the bar, easy enough now it’s getting late. Xiao Xingchen perks up too. “Anything I should be worried for?”
He pauses for a moment, visibly thinking. “Not as far as I can think. I think he’s still in the system, but the last I heard he’s on a waiting list. I know he’s being fostered at the moment, but they haven’t disclosed the details with me. Obviously,” he sighs, keeping a hand out on the table expectantly. When Song Lan arrives, he takes it and squeezes. “Hello, you.”
They share a kiss as Song Lan settles beside Xiao Xingchen, the two of them linking together like two cat’s tails. “Missed you today. How’ve you been?” Son Lan asks, setting his whiskey down before wrapping his arms around Xingchen and letting him melt into his embrace. “Oh, that good? Wow. How’s your first week, Wei Wuxian?”
“Good. I haven’t even been thrown up on yet,” Wei Wuxian grins, glancing at the time on his phone. It’s earlier than he’d usually leave, but something about seeing love right in front of his face is making him ready to wallow over some Netflix and cake. “I’d better head out, if you’re okay on your own. Xingchen, do you trust this strange man?”
“Hmm, no. But I’ll take my chances,” he replies into Song Lan’s chest, shifting so Wei Wuxian can take his jacket. “Oh! Come to yoga next month with me, it’s a good reset.”
Wei Wuxian squints. “Really?”
He can’t really imagine himself in a yoga class, especially not next to Xiao Xingchen and all his grace. There are one legged pigeons more graceful than Wei Wuxian. “Not an option. You’ll like it, I’ll bring you to a monthly one over my Thursday ones,” he instructs, managing to pull himself from Song Lan’s arms to find his glass, taking a sip and settling back to lean against him. “Zichen, tell him it’s good.”
“I’ve heard good things,” Song Lan appeases him, taking his glass from Xiao Xingchen’s fingers and drinking slowly. “Genuinely, I do think it helps with stress. I’ve gone a few times and it’s very calming.”
Wei Wuxian thinks there’s a difference between going and being dragged, but he’s not about to press it tonight. “Fine, send me the details. Love you both,” he says through pulling his jacket on, shimmying himself out of the booth. He’s numb from the cheeks down, it takes a few leg shakes for him to feel stable. “I’ll see you soon, don’t get it on until you’re home!”
“Learn to talk to boys while you’re gone!” Xiao Xingchen calls after him, oblivious to the look Wei Wuxian shoots him before making his way out into the cool night air. One of these days, he’s going to take up smoking. Alleviate boy stress.
+
It isn’t planned. Wei Wuxian is once again sat outside the nurse’s office, almost two weeks after the flower pot incident. This time he’s been hit with a chair. Like, flat out, ‘I’m on the floor playing with stuffed animals and now there’s a chair leg almost in my whole eye’ hit with a chair.
It took him a full five minutes to make the short walk to Lan Wangji’s office. Which it officially is on Fridays, he’s learned from Wen Qing through break time complaints. Her day off, his day to heal the world.
The door opens as he’s gathering himself in the plastic chair, two Lan Wangji’s meld slowly into one when he looks up. “Wei Ying,” he says, his brows pinch. He’s wearing lavender today, his shirt looks silky, tucked into his smooth grey slacks. Wei Wuxian feels underdressed in his paint stained cashmere and black jeans. “Wei Ying.”
There’s a hand on his knee, squeezing gently to bring him back to the present. Lan Wangji is kneeling in front of him, waiting for a response. His gaze makes Wei Wuxian shiver. “Yeah.”
“Come in. What happened?”
“Attacked by Jingyi. Playing house with the whale,” Wei Wuxian explains, taking hold of Lan Wangji’s arm when he’s up and pulling himself to stand. “He didn’t mean it. Ow.”
Lan Wangji leads him to the safety of the couch this time, patting his calves for him to lie back. “What with?” he asks as he pushes the door closed, grabbing a bag and pulling out a pen by the look of it. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, sinking into the fuzzy cushioning of the couch. It’s one of the ones he hates, but it’s nice enough for now. “Wei Ying. Can you tell me what you were hit by?”
“Chair.”
There’s a pause. Wei Wuxian opens an eye to witness Lan Wangji paused in confusion. “A chair.”
“Uh huh. He was playing monsters with Zizhen, they can pick chairs up with they’re monsters,” he explains, flinching when Lan Wangji clicks his pen and a light shines directly in his eyes. “Are you trying to blind me, Lan Wangji?”
Lan Wangji kneels beside the couch, waiting until Wei Wuxian is done wailing about his pain. “Sit up. I need to check your vital signs. What day is it?”
“Oh, Nurse Lan,” Wei Wuxian suffers through sitting up, staring Lan Wangji straight in the eyes to establish dominance. It would work if he didn’t feel ready to throw up. “Take care of me, Nurse Lan, I’m a target for attacks!”
“What day it is, Wei Ying?”
“Friday, Lan Wangji. Is it fatal?”
“Month?”
Wei Wuxian sighs heavily, laboured by his need to flirt. “January, Lan Wangji. Will you take care of me now?” he begs, pouting through his continued suffering. “Do you want me to tell you more? I know my birthday, do you want that?”
“Keep your eyes open. Let me,” Lan Wangji doesn’t bother to finish his thought, checking Wei Wuxian’s left eye, then his right one, then back and back again. He huffs. “Do you feel dizzy?”
Wei Wuxian sighs, blinking rapidly when the light is off. “No? I did, but I don’t anymore,” he frowns, his heart rolling around in his ribcage when Lan Wangji holds two fingers to Wei Wuxian’s throat. He swallows hard. “Is it fatal, Lan Wangji?” he tries again, inwardly deflating when there’s no laugh.
“Mild concussion. Do you have someone who can take you home?” Lan Wangji asks, taking his fingers away from Wei Wuxian’s neck and letting him breathe. He stands in one fluid motion, his bag returning to his desk. Wei Wuxian outwardly deflates this time, flopping back against the fuzzy cushions.
“No,” he lies, Jiang Cheng could stop by but he’s not going to have that conversation in this lifetime. There’s Xingchen, but that involves walking. Something tells him Lan Wangji won’t be pleased about that. “I’ll be fine, I’ll do some clean up with Mingjue and walk home in a few hours. I live close.”
Lan Wangji narrows his eyes a fraction, sitting in his swivel chair and glancing up at the clock above Wei Wuxian’s head. “No. Can you get an Uber?” he asks, glancing at his computer when Wei Wuxian shakes his head, the movement returning the pressure in his head. Ow. “I will take you home. I have some things to finish, but you can wait here if you wish.”
Wei Wuxian vibrates. “Lan Wangji, such a gentleman,” he grins, moving to get comfortable on the couch, draping over it like a lazy house cat under a sunbeam. “Taking me home when I’m fading away. Are you trying to hint at something?”
“Rest,” Lan Wangji speaks without turning to look at him, even when Wei Wuxian sighs like it’ll ruin his life to take a nap. “Wei Ying. You need rest.”
He feels like he does need it, but watching Lan Wangji seems more appealing for the moment. His hair is liquid charcoal, it looks soft as feathers, fine as anything. How long would it take to wash it? Maybe an hour, with a good conditioning routine. And brushing it… that would take even longer. From what he can see, it’s almost down to his lower back.
Just as he starts drifting off, he sees Lan Wangji stand from his chair, moving like smoke billowing through the air until he’s beside Wei Wuxian, close enough that he could touch if he dared, all in a heartbeat. His hand is inexplicably in Lan Wangji’s hair, stroking gently like he’s an animal at a petting zoo. He doesn’t move away, instead resting a weightless hand against Wei Wuxian’s knee.
“Lan Wangji,” he breathes, pushing his fingers through his lengths of silky hair. He has to really concentrate to feel it, and even then it’s more like a concept than an experience. “How long is your hair?”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says without moving his lips. Wei Wuxian’s brows pinch, he frowns. Lan Wangji repeats his name, getting closer still, until all it would take for them to touch would be for Wei Wuxian to just move forward, until-
He slides off the couch miserably.
Lan Wangji is definitely not in front of him, instead he hasn’t moved from his desk. Only now he’s sat opposite Lan Jingyi, who’s looking very sorry for himself. “Umph,” Wei Wuxian says into the carpet, rolling the rest of the way and sitting up on the floor. “Sorry, needed a nap. It’s tiring work being a grown up, huh.”
Tiring isn’t the word. He’s not about to start getting fever dreams about Lan Wangji and his hair. He chalks it up to the concussion. And his week long hairdressing dreams from when he was fifteen. That’s all there is to it.
“Wei Laoshi,” Lan Jingyi says around sniffles, clinging to Lan Wangji’s trouser leg with his little left hand like he’ll float away if he doesn’t keep hold of something. “I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean to hurt you!”
He breaks into a wail after that, only barely comforted when Lan Wangji pats his back gently, taking it as an invitation to cry into the nurse’s knee. “Aw, Jingyi! Enough crying now, I’m fine,” Wei Wuxian insists, scooting across the floor and inviting him into a hug, tutting when Lan Jingyi’s crying transfers to the blue paint stain near his shoulder. “You did me a favour! Nurse Lan did some research, it looks like my brain is huge! Right?”
Lan Wangji looks at him for a hard moment. “Mm. Gigantic,” he complies, worth it when Lan Jingyi’s cries are broken by a weak laugh. “Wei Laoshi is going to be fine, Jingyi. He can spend the weekend eating ice cream in bed.”
“See? You’ve saved me,” Wei Wuxian smiles, giving Lan Jingyi a squeeze and letting him go, patting his head. “Better than any plans I had. Just remember to be careful, huh? No more crying, it’s all done. If it happens again, though, I’ll have to ask Nie Laoshi to get rid of all the chairs, won’t I, Nurse Lan?”
Lan Jingyi gasps, his eyes big and watery and wide. “No!” he shakes his head firmly, mortified at the notion of a class wide floor sitting enforcement at his hand. Wei Wuxian holds his pinky finger up, the two of them link little fingers and nod in agreement. “Don’t tell Zizhen I cried, Wei Laoshi, please?”
Wei Wuxian nods, releasing their pinky promise and standing slowly. His vision spins, likely noticed by Lan Wangji’s unfaltering gaze. “I won’t tell a soul. Let’s get you home, yes? I’m sure your mother is waiting for you outside, let’s not worry her.”
It takes a little nose wiping, but eventually Wei Wuxian leads Lan Jingyi out of the main building, accompanied by Lan Wangji at a distance. He’s returned safely to his mother, running straight past her to barrel into Ouyang Zizhen and start wrestling in the middle of the playground.
“Well. He got over that quickly,” Wei Wuxian sighs in quiet relief, watching the two boys rolling around over the paved stone, scolded by their mothers. “Thank you for backing me up. And letting me sleep. You know what you’re doing, huh, Wangji?”
All Lan Wangji offers is “Mn,” as they wait for the playground to clear out, leaving mostly staff members milling about. Nie Mingjue is making a beeline for the two of them. Wei Wuxian swallows hard.
“Mingjue, I swear-”
“Are you okay?” Nie Mingjue asks, setting Wei Wuxian back about ten sentences worth of explaining himself. He’s silent instead, his brain melting in hyper speed. Maybe it’s his concussion. Sure. Nie Mingjue turns to Lan Wangji. “Is he alright? Jingyi told me what happened, I’m sorry about not being there.”
“He’s fine. Mild concussion, I’m driving him home and he’ll spend the weekend there,” Lan Wangji says, which is more than he’s told Wei Wuxian about what he’s expected to do. The whole weekend. Ugh.
Nie Mingjue sighs hard, pushing a hand through his hair. It’s weird seeing such a large man look so pressed over a chair incident. “Am I fired?” Wei Wuxian attempts to lighten the mood, grinning when Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes. “Yes?”
“No. Don’t make me regret that,” he warns, glancing at his watch. He’ll have to do most of clean up on his own. Wei Wuxian would feel bad if he hadn’t taken a chair to the face. “I’ll see you Monday. Lan Zhan, could you tell your brother to message me back? He’s probably left his phone on silent again.”
Lan Wangji nods, pushing his hand into his pocket and pulling his keys out. “I will. Take care,” he says, walking between Wei Wuxian and Nie Mingjue towards the gates. Wei Wuxian follows suite, parting with a wave. Lan Wangji may move like smoke on water, but he’s fast on those long legs.
“Do I really have to stay home all weekend?” Wei Wuxian pouts, waving at Zizhen and Jingyi as he rushes after Lan Wangji.
“Yes.”
He groans as they cross the street to the staff parking, mourning his own car as they pass it. His poor cherry red Astra, stuck alone for the weekend. “Can I have friends over?”
Lan Wangji clicks a button on his keys, unlocking a VW Golf before he reaches the car itself. It’s dazzling white, somehow not a speck of mud to be seen. Maybe Lan Wangji has a pact with some kind of cleaning demon.
“No friends if they’re going to be loud,” Lan Wangji instructs, giving Wei Wuxian a look before getting into his car. Wei Wuxian scowls, stomping his way to the passenger door and getting in as angrily as he can manage. “You need to rest.”
“Lan Wangji,” Wei Wuxian whines, not touching the seatbelt when Lan Wangji stares at it. “This isn’t fair! I rested earlier, I have plans tomorrow!”
Plans meaning getting high with Wen Ning and Nie Huaisang, but it’s important. Boys Saturday is sacred, almost as much as Bar Night. If he can’t get stoned on the first Saturday of the month, he’ll just die.
“What plans?”
Wei Wuxian pauses. He didn’t think he’d get this far into bargaining. Lan Wangji starts the car up, moving when Wei Wuxian puts his seatbelt on. “Um. Leisure. Left here.”
Lan Wangji side eyes him.
“Weed.”
“Fine. But no shouting.”
Wei Wuxian grins. “Lan Wangji! Encouraging drugs!” he gasps, laughing when his ears pink just a little. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’ll open the invitation to you, if you’re into it?”
Lan Wangji doesn’t answer, keeping his eyes focused on the road. Wei Wuxian resists the urge to reach over and poke at the slowly rising blush, now at his neck. They sit in quiet for the rest of the way, only broken for Wei Wuxian to give directions. It isn’t a long drive, but sleepiness keeps creeping up on him like a wild cat.
When Lan Wangji pulls up outside his complex, Wei Wuxian is a few moments away from sleeping again, only barely present to witness Lan Wangji’s hands at his hip, clicking the seatbelt open. “Come and see me Monday morning. Don’t smoke too much tomorrow.”
Wei Wuxian hums, resting his hand against Lan Wangji’s for a split second before pulling away, opening the car door. “Uh huh, I promise. I’ll see you Monday, thank you again for saving my big fat brain.”
He piles out of the car, closing the door and waving as Lan Wangji pulls away from the curb, watching until his car is out of sight before heading inside. It’s only when he’s behind the safety of his own door that he lets out a groan he’s been holding since he woke up.
But he definitely doesn’t have a crush.