Archive of Our Own

It's just another day when Ouyang Zizhen wakes up. 

Just another cold January day making the act of sliding out of the bed – and leaving the cozy, warm quilt – exponentially more painful than it had any right to be. The ping of his phone only magnifies his vexation. 

Jingyi: Wear white! 

He quietly keeps the phone aside and stuffs his face back into the quilt in favor of two more minutes of warmth. Because a ridiculous text from the epitome of ridiculousness that is Lan Jingyi, is nothing out of ordinary. 

When he does tiptoe into the bathroom, it's with an air of irritation. At the freezing floor, the chilly walls, the cold damp surface of every article his hand comes in contact with – the toothpaste, mouth cleanser, shampoo bottle – but most of all, at the management who are yet to shift him to the building Sizhui and Jingyi resided in. 

The mix-up in the assigning of dorm rooms wasn't his fault but he is the only one suffering the consequences. He should have listened to his father instead of insisting on living at the college because Jin Ling did that and he hardly seems to miss out on anything that Zizhen was so concerned about. 

He dresses up with a bit of haste, mostly to get rid of the looming chill. Layers upon layers of body warmers under his regular woolen t-shirt and jeans. 

Before leaving, he inhales a bowl of self-made breakfast, foregoing the dining hall meal in favor of cereal and annoyingly cold carton milk. 

Then he stuffs himself into a white pullover and saunters off. 

By the time he spots Jin Ling – also dressed in white – at their usual spot in the cafeteria, his eyebrows have already raised. 

"You complied?" He asks, eyeing his thick white coat which probably costs more than Zizhen's tuition. 

"Couldn't have him screaming at me halfway across the field," Jin Ling grumbles.

Well, Jingyi is scary like that. 

"What's happening though?" Zizhen frowns, looking around. 

The main campus seems a bit… livelier? Too many students chattering and whispering and running to and fro. Just the general atmosphere seems to be buzzing with energy. 

"Birthday," Jin Ling sighs a one-word response before burrowing into the cup of coffee he was nursing, for both, warmth as well as caffeine. 

Zizhen casts around his glance once more. "Who's?" 

"Lan Wangji." 

He blinks, twice, waiting for more. When nothing is offered, he prompts, "Okay… and?" 

"There's a party," Jin Ling says into his coffee, expecting him to make of it what he will, and Zizhen's eyebrows shoot up because… what?

"Party?" He frowns, "Lan Wangji is having a… party?" 

"Wei Wuxian," Jin Ling grumbles another one-word response. 

But this one actually does make sense. 

Because of course, Wei Wuxian. Who else?

Who else but Lan Wangji's dearest best friend? 

And oh, of course, the presumably one-sided and supposedly unrequited love of his life. 

"Senior Wei is throwing a party?" He quirks a brow. 

Before Jin Ling can answer, he is interrupted by a screech – because there's no other word to describe the excited yelp that reaches them from the entryway – as Jingyi and Sizhui enter the cafeteria. 

Zizhen eyes the baby blue woolen vest on Sizhui and the way-too-nice-for-regular-college blazer on Jingyi. 

"Why was I made to wear white?" He narrows his eyes. 

Sizhui shrugs, sliding into the seat across from Jin Ling while Jingyi perches beside him excitedly explaining some blue-white party theme that he wanted them all to follow. 

"And you didn't want to match with me because?" Zizhen asks, the taunt clear in his voice. 

Jingyi blinks. "I wanted to match with Sizhui," he says, pouting. 

Jin Ling kicks him below the table before Zizhen can mock him more. 

He sighs. "What is even happening?" He asks instead. 

"Didn't you hear?" Jingyi's frown is just a tad bit exaggerated, "it's Hanguang-jun's birthday." 

"For the love of god, stop with that name already," Jin Ling blares before anyone can respond, positively looking like he's about to jump on Jingyi, "showing you down a dark stairway using his phone torch does not make him a bearer of light or something." 

Sizhui sighs, audibly. Zizhen bites the inside of his cheek hard to quickly erase the obvious threat of a smile, fully anticipating the onslaught that's going to be unleashed on Jin Ling any minute now. 

And sure enough, Jingyi's nostrils flare. 

"Is that so, young mistress?" He says cheerfully, "Do I need to remind you who helped you with chapter guides when you were wandering the dark alleys of senior dorms last semester?" 

"For the last time, Jiang Wanyin gave them to me." 

"After borrowing them from Hanguang-jun," Jingyi bursts out. "Let's not play fools, alright? Nobody makes those kinds of notes and nobody in hell would keep them secure for four years." 

Well, he's not wrong. But also, "That's not right, Sizhui would do that too," says Zizhen, because it's always fun to mess with Jingyi. 

"Indeed," Jingyi agrees, "and he learned that from Hanguang-jun, didn't you, Sizhui?" 

Sizhui nods, diligently, like a spring toy. 

Zizhen scoffs. "Of course he'll agree with you." 

Jingyi's comical glare is now on Zizhen. "Did you forget who helped you when your computer glitched?" 

That makes Zizhen frown. Because he actually does remember. There's no way he can forget the intercollege fest that Jingyi couldn't stop talking about for weeks because Lan Wangji told him he was proud of him after his unrivaled performance in the debate. 

"You're mistaking him with Senior Wei," he states as much. 

"Be it Hanguang-jun or Senior Wei," Jingyi scowls, "it's the same thing." 

Zizhen frowns again. But he doesn't refute it. Because… well, he kind of likes the sound of that. 

"Are you going to tell us about this party or not?" He asks instead. 

"Ahh right," Jingyi quickly comes back to senses, "Senior Wei is throwing a party for him and before you ask why he's doing that knowing how much Hanguang-jun hates parties, Senior Nie told me it's because it's their last year and he wants his best friend to get as many presents as possible." 

"And Lan Wangji agreed?" Jin Ling questions, dubious.  

"Word on the street is," Jingyi's voice lowers conspiratorially, "Senior Wei used his puppy face on him." 

"Ahh," Sizhui nods in understanding. So does Zizhen. 

"So… like… the whole college is invited?" Jin Ling asks. 

Jingyi shakes his head. "Only the fourth year." 

"How come we're going then?" Zizhen asks, bewildered. 

"What do you mean how?" Jingyi asks, a bit offended, "I'm Hanguang-jun's favorite junior, of course I'm invited." 

The three of them stare at him dubiously. 

"Jingyi…," Sizhui says weakly, "you blocked Senior Nie's car and refused to move until he invited you." 

"Yeah well that too," Jingyi dismisses it with a hand wave and begins prattling about what all he's considering for gifts instead. 

A commotion attracts their attention sideways and Zizhen finds the very objects of their discussion entering the field far away. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji with the entirety of their friends' group. 

Wei Wuxian, as usual, chattering with more than one person at once, and Lan Wangji, as always, content with just walking at his side. 

A gust of wind blows making Zizhen huddle closer to himself. Far away, Lan Wangji's hands automatically find their way to Wei Wuxian's muffler – a white one with cloud patterns on it, very obviously Lan Wangji's own – to snuggle it tighter around him. Wei Wuxian, engaged as he is in a conversation, only tilts sideways giving him more access, a wholly subconscious action as if it's an everyday affair. 

And just like that, a tiny smile blooms on Zizhen's face. 

Because it actually is. A usual affair. 

Next to him, Jingyi mutters, "Dumbass," shaking his head. 

Zizhen finds himself tempted to taunt him. To say something like, pot calling the kettle black, but he doesn't. He lets it go in favor of watching ahead. 

On the field, Wei Wuxian whips out his phone and unhooks the pair of thin silver-framed glasses hanging on his collar. Then he hands it to Lan Wangji so he can read whatever Wei Wuxian is about to show him. 

At the table, Jingyi has once again gone off. He's now listing some truly ostentatious articles that he'd like to gift Lan Wangji while Sizhui, with some exasperation, and Jin Ling, with no hidden vexation, are desperately trying to talk him out of it. 

Unlike him, they've grown out of these everyday occurrences. Zizhen, on the other hand, is yet to tire of these little spectacles that have, within months, changed the entire definition of love that his hopelessly romantic heart had cradled for years. 

He watches them on the field, so engrossed in their discussion as if no one around them exists. Those hovering around are too used to it to mind. 

It's nothing out of the ordinary. Zizhen has often spotted them behaving the same even when they're alone. More than once, he has found Wei Wuxian fast asleep in Lan Wangji's lap while the latter quietly read on. 

When their discussion has ended and the fog has begun condensing on Lan Wangji's glasses once more, Wei Wuxian takes them off him and hooks them back on his collar. 

His own collar because he is ridiculous like that. He's as attached to Lan Wangji's specs as he is to its wearer, and that's the nicest way Zizhen can put his weird fascination with those eyeglasses. 

To the point that he had kicked up a fuss when Lan Wangji decided to get lenses once. 

It was only a month after Zizhen joined the university. 

While trying to save a kitten stuck on a branch, Wei Wuxian had fallen off the tree. Right into Lan Wangji's arms who had been waiting under it as if he knew Wei Wuxian would fall. As if he knew that Wei Wuxian, in the process of saving the world, would always need someone to fall back on. As if he had sworn an oath that anytime Wei Wuxian loses balance, Lan Wangji will be right there to catch him. 

In the end, he had indeed caught him, sending them both stumbling on the ground. And in the process, he had cracked his glasses. 

Lan Wangji had decided then to get rid of them. But as far as Zizhen knows, it never happened. 

As the story goes, Wei Wuxian had put his foot down. His reasoning was that without glasses, Lan Wangji's eyes are like daggers. He had also promised to never again fall out of trees. 

Zizhen does not know how much of it is true but knowing Wei Wuxian, he'd be a fool to not believe it. 

As much as these little snippets endeared him, they had equally frustrated him initially. Because he just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that they were just friends. 

How could two people who are so in sync not be together? 

How could a love story be so full yet incomplete?  

He had received the answer to that a few months later. Or some semblance of it. At the same intercollege fest that had spiked Jingyi's admiration by a magnitude of ten. 

Being their first time, by tradition, the freshmen were sent to the host college with a bunch of seniors for guidance purposes. They were supposed to familiarize them with the atmosphere, teach them how to deal with the pressure as well as chicanery, and make sure they don't forget to have fun. 

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were, of course, among them. 

All of them had won something in the categories they participated in. Jingyi in debate, Sizhui in composition, and Jin Ling in archery. Except for Zizhen whose code had refused to be compiled till the last minute. 

The hollow in his chest following that was less due to losing and more due to letting his mentor down. 

Although, when he went to apologize, he had found him in a heated argument with the jury demanding to see Zizhen's code, while Lan Wangji held him back. 

Senior Wei wasn't a violent person. There had been only one incident in the past where he was suspended for punching some bigshot but it was long before Zizhen joined. It could very well be just a rumor. All in all, he was one of the loveliest, most cheerful people. And yet, the darkening expression on him in face of what he suspected as unfairness was something Zizhen would never want to be up against. 

"I've seen that kid practice for months," he had sneered at the proctor, "the problem he was given is something he can do in his sleep so forgive me if I'm unwilling to buy the bullshit you're trying to feed me." 

At that moment, it no longer mattered if Zizhen had won or not because that coming from Senior Wei was far beyond any award a measly college could give him. 

In the end, the hosts had to bend because not many can last when Lan Wangji begins to reason. 

As it turned out, the glitch was, indeed, in the compiler and not Zizhen's code. The host college had apologized immensely and attempted to salvage the situation. But Wei Wuxian had already made up his mind to get them blacklisted. 

For someone so hard to disappoint, Wei Wuxian was much harder to persuade.

That evening, when the seniors took them out for celebratory dinner, it was about something much sweeter than victory. About standing up for yourself. The fair play and justice, the little ones, if not the ones that mattered more. Most of all, it was about others standing up for you. 

Lan Wangji had ordered all kinds of awfully red dishes for their table and just like that, Wei Wuxian's mood was uplifted. He is easy to please like that. The simplest things are what bring him most amounts of joy. 

When Zizhen had approached their table to thank him, Wei Wuxian had ruffled his hair like he was a kid. 

"It was the least I could do," he had said, "right Lan Zhan?" 

Lan Wangji had dutifully mn-ed before regarding Zizhen with the barest smile and saying, "You did well today." 

Even months later, that continues to be his favorite college memory. 

Their rowdy celebration that night would have lasted much longer if Lan Wangji hadn't accidentally taken a sip from Wei Wuxian's liquor and promptly fallen asleep on him. 

As it was, in his absence, Wei Wuxian had to be the responsible one and instruct all the juniors to return to the hotel. 

Late into the night when everyone had returned except those two, Zizhen had worriedly insisted on going to look for them. Sizhui was only too happy to oblige. 

They had found them behind the hotel wandering among the ruins of a fallen building talking about chickens – more like Lan Wangji was reciting a poem about chickens and Wei Wuxian was happily indulging him. The sight was as absurd as it seemed intimate. Neither he nor Sizhui knew how to approach them. 

When Wei Wuxian tried to make Lan Wangji return, the man had stubbornly refused. 

"Alright," Wei Wuxian had sighed, "What do you want to do?" 

Lan Wangji shook his head. "We will do what you want," he had said, frowning blearily, "What do you want, Wei Ying?" And Wei Wuxian had smiled. 

Smiling is his natural response in life to most things if not all. However easy or however adverse a situation is, one will always find Wei Wuxian smiling. But there's a kind of smile that only Lan Wangji can elicit. The kind that makes Wei Wuxian's eyes look like they are housing constellations – real enough to form crinkles in the corners and rare enough to be distinguishable. 

It was that smile that Wei Wuxian had given Lan Wangji and said, "I already have everything, Lan Zhan, there's nothing I can find elsewhere that I can't find here with you." 

If Zizhen was reluctant to approach them before, he was even more unwilling then. 

Lan Wangji, however, had frowned. "We are among the ruins of a fallen building," he had said with contempt, "you need to expand your horizons, Wei Ying." 

Wei Wuxian had laughed for a full minute at that. "What I mean is," he had said later, "nothing is scary when you're with me. I rather like tonight, Lan Zhan. If anything, I would like this night to remember me. Even after we leave the city tomorrow." 

Lan Wangji had considered that for some time, then picking up a rock he had scribbled that day's date on a wall that was still half intact. 

Below the date, he scribbled something else. 

Wei Wuxian was here. 

Then he had turned to Wei Wuxian and said, "Here, it will not forget you now." 

Wei Wuxian had smiled again. The same beaming kind of smile. Taking the rock from Lan Wangji, he had drawled something of his own below the scribblings. 

Lan Wangji was here too. 

"It will remember us both now," he had said afterward. 

Sizhui had pulled Zizhen away then. "They will come back when they want to. We should go." 

Zizhen could not agree more. 

In bed later at night, it had come to him like an easy understanding. 

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were not just a love story. They were also a story about love – paragraphs and paragraphs of love weaved together with just the right kind of punctuation, to give them meaning. Exclamations to savor the vibrance, questions that are yet to be answered, and commas to give them all a breather. A set of scrambled phrases that make sense only when used together. 

Because he's not only his best friend and his presumably unrequited love. 

He's also Lan Wangji's only equal. In academia as well as life. His other half. The flute counter-melodies to his qin solos, the winning debater to his immaculate interjections, and the ceaseless chatter to his unending silence. 

It does not matter what label they bear for anytime one is mentioned, the other will follow. It's only natural. Like pieces of a puzzle that are made to fit together. The face you look for, first and foremost, in a room full of people. 

Sometimes, love is just a person you can discuss chickens with. 

"You coming?" Jingyi's voice snaps him out of the meander of thoughts he had once again wandered into. 

When he looks back, the field is empty, everyone evidently gone to their respective lectures. 

Zizhen nods, collecting his stuff from the table. 

"Have you decided on your gift yet?" He asks, sliding out of the table. 

"I'll make a card perhaps," Jingyi shrugs, "Sizhui says to keep it simple. Something handmade would be nice." 

Another cold gust of wind hits them the moment they exit the cafeteria. 

"You should have taken the scarf I gave you," he hears Jingyi say to Sizhui as they begin walking to the class. 

Zizhen internally rolls his eyes. 

The party hall is buzzing with twice the energy of the campus when they reach there. 

People run around with frills, streamers, curtains, and any other kind of decor they could procure in shades of blue and white. Some set up tables on the side, covered with white sheets, while others work on getting the lighting right. A fleet of caterers is busy laying the same tables with all kinds of delicacies, the aroma of which wafts throughout the overly decorated hall. 

Wei Wuxian, the root of all this hassle, is nowhere to be seen. 

They only have a minute to wander around before Nie Huaisang summons them over, entering the backdoor with a large crate of non-alcoholic drinks.

"You didn't invite yourself to make me do all the work, did you?" He taunts Jingyi, placing the crate on the side counter with a thud, "Make yourself useful and set these up." 

Jingyi is only too happy to be included. 

"I'll be back shortly with another," Nie Huaisang disappears behind the same door he came in from. 

When he appears the next time, it's with another large crate – alcoholic drinks this time – which Zizhen helps him carry over. 

"Where's Senior Wei?" Jingyi asks 

"Coaxing his darling to make an appearance," Nie Huaisang mutters. 

Jingyi snorts. Zizhen's eyebrow quirks up. He can imagine the mammoth of a task it must be, bringing Lan Wangji to any party, let alone his own. But then, if anyone can make him relent, it's his best friend, or rather, darling as Nie Huaisang just called him. 

"Speaking of which," Jingyi begins, keeping his eyes carefully on the spritzer he's mindlessly shaking, "Senior Nie, what's up with them? It's been going on for months." 

For once, Zizhen would like to side with him. Because indeed, it's been going on for months. Months because that's how long he's been here. He wouldn't even begin to fathom the actual duration Senior Wei's friends have been cutting the sexual tension with metaphorical knives between him and his best friend. 

"Years," Nie Huaisang answers his unasked question, "I've been putting up with their bullshit for years—since middle school, to be precise—I was there the first time Wei Wuxian blatantly pulled Lan Wangji into his lap because there "wasn't enough space" for the two of them sending Lan Wangji into a days-long internal crisis. I've watched Lan Wangji fluster less and less over time and gradually become accustomed to Wei Wuxian's annoying clinginess. From Wei Wuxian's territorial tendencies to Lan Wangji's vinegar chugging, I've witnessed it all." Nie Huaisang takes a large breath when he's done. 

The four of them blink owlishly, in unison. Nie Huaisang looks up and narrows his eyes at Jingyi as if the entirety of his exposing ramble is his fault. 

"Maybe I should let your Hanguang-jun know," he says, narrowing his eyes even more, "how invested you are in his personal affairs." 

Jingyi scowls. "I don't think there's anyone who's not invested." 

Once again, Zizhen agrees. Way too many people are invested in this epic romance, as he secretly likes to call it. A romantic at heart himself, he cannot remember the last time he yearned for a happy ending this much, or the last time he rooted for a story so much. 

Not even the end of Titanic frustrated him to such gigantic levels. 

A commotion at the entrance snaps him out of his thoughts, and others out of whatever discussion Zizhen had tuned out. 

They watch the scene unfold with a bit of sympathy for both the parties as Wei Wuxian steers a very reluctant-looking Lan Wangji inside – literally pushing him from behind with force – his hands firmly gripping Lan Wangji's shoulders lest he makes a run for it. 

Lan Wangji sulks all the way to the couch at the back of the room while Wei Wuxian follows smiling like sunshine personified. 

When they do take a seat, Wei Wuxian is almost sprawling on Lan Wangji's lap. 

Perhaps it's a measure of how usual of an occurrence it is that not a single person in the vicinity is particularly scandalized by it. Eyerolls are the most that are offered. Mostly, people spare them a glance and just go back to what they were doing. 

Some glances linger longer than others – considering crushes and admirers of these two college prodigies are not a rarity. Nor are their anti-fans scarce, the likes of Su She – but that's neither here nor there. 

At one point, Lan Wangji glares at something Wei Wuxian says to which Wei Wuxian's immediate response is a puppy face. It's almost comical how quickly it works on the man famous for remaining unruffled through the worst of the crisis. They all watch in unison as the hard edges of Lan Wangji's face melt, slowly giving way to the kind of softness that's never there unless it has to do with his darling best friend. 

Beside him, Zizhen hears a collective sigh – Nie Huaisang included – before they too, go back to setting up the drinks counter. 

As is usual for him when the two besotted seniors are within Zizhen's periphery, his gaze keeps darting over to the couch every now and then. It's not that he's nosy, or that he likes to pry. Just that there's something magnetic about them when they're together, much more so than individually. A glance here, a touch there, the minute change of expressions on Lan Wangji, the spark in Wei Wuxian's laughter that somehow increases tenfold. It's not without reason that Zizhen has a whole catalog of these findings that he kept stumbling upon without intending to. 

His favorite, perhaps, is the easy way Wei Wuxian's arms somehow always find their way around Lan Wangji's neck. The first time Zizhen witnessed it was just a few months back. He was new enough to know nobody touches Lan Wangji but not enough to know the exception to this rule. 

And so, when Wei Wuxian had skipped over to where Lan Wangji was intently staring at his laptop in the cafeteria and simply launched his arms around the man's neck from behind his chair to stare at the same screen, Zizhen – along with the rest of the new people at his table – had suffered a tiny meltdown fearing the consequences. In the next few seconds, however, his meltdown had reduced to just melting when Lan Wangji subconsciously tilted his head sideways to give Wei Wuxian more access so he could look at the screen easily. 

Their faces had been so close to each other that for a split second Zizhen had almost imagined Wei Wuxian turning Lan Wangji's face and leaning in for a kiss. Although, he's certain it never happened, engaged as they both were in an intense discussion, in that same intimate position. 

That's the thing about their intimacy. It comes easy to them. Naturally. As if Lan Wangji's lap was custom-made for Wei Wuxian's head to rest in it. 

It's not without reason that Zizhen roots for them so hard. However much of a hopeless romantic he is, not just any love story can get him to cherish it. As it goes, there's something about this one. Something magnetic. 

The longing for something already within your grasp, the yearning for what wholly belongs to you, the unasked devotion. The excruciating sincerity of it all. Something. 

When he glances again, he finds Lan Wangji reading a letter a girl just handed him with Wei Wuxian not even trying to be subtle about peeking over his shoulder. Not that Lan Wangji minds. 

Such a deja vu it is of that day from months ago that Zizhen doesn't realize it when he blurts, "Can't we do something about it?" 

Cursedly enough, it gets Nie Huaisang's attention. 

He follows Zizhen's gaze, then looks back at him. "You'd like that, won't you?" 

Zizhen shrugs. "I think everyone will like that," he says, picking up another stack of plastic glasses. 

Unlike the reaction Jingyi had received at his prodding, Nie Huaisang smiles at him. "I get it, I've been trying since middle school," he comments offhandedly. 

Jingyi's ears perk up. "Like what?" 

Nie Huaisang narrows his eyes again but he answers. "Locked them into what we used to call love shack back in high school," he reminisces, "found them playing cat's cradle using Wei Wuxian's hair ribbon when we unlocked," he finishes, wincing. 

Jin Ling snorts. "Jokes on you for expecting more." 

"That's not all," Nie Huaisang adds, "we've tried sending them on dates which was futile because apparently, they spend time alone all the time," he frowns, shaking his head, "we even tried to expose them to offscreen kissing once, after onscreen didn't work." 

There's no follow-up to that, so Jingyi eagerly prompts, "And?" 

Nie Huaisang looks him dead in the eyes as if delivering a weather report and says, in a monotone, "Wei Wuxian covered Lan Wangji's eyes and announced to everyone and their grandmother that his Lan Zhan should never be exposed to such vile activities." 

Another collective sigh. 

The beginning of their romance would be nothing short of the eighth world wonder, Zizhen thinks. 

"Why doesn't Lan Wangji simply confess?" Sizhui – always the rational brain of the group – asks. 

"Why does anyone hesitate in confessing to a friend," Nie Huaisang shrugs, "fear of losing the friendship." 

"So much bullshit," Jingyi scoffs, "as if anyone would ever reject Hanguang-jun." 

Zizhen is almost annoyed with how much he's agreeing with Jingyi today. 

Jin Ling looks two seconds away from taking issues with the title again, so Sizhui jumps in. "But if anyone could, it would be Senior Wei," he says carefully, "I mean, nobody else is in Lan Wangji's league." 

"Indeed," Nie Huaisang voices, and they all unanimously nod. 

"Intervening may work, you know?" Jin Ling speaks up, somewhat sagely, "What if you pushed one of them to date someone else?" 

"Only a spoiled mistress would come up with something like that," Jingyi says with distaste. 

Before Jin Ling can flip, Nie Huaisang raises a hand, "Already tried and tested. Set Wei Wuxian up for a date once hoping he'd either grow some awareness or Lan Wangji would finally get a reason to move on." 

The gasp that erupts out of Zizhen is in sync with Jingyi's, "Senior Nie! You didn't!" 

Zizhen isn't even annoyed at agreeing with Jingyi anymore because what the fuck? Nie Huaisang came that close to sabotaging the greatest love story to ever exist? Sizhui looks like someone just told him his parents were about to divorce at one point. 

"What happened then?" Zizhen asks.

Nie Huaisang visibly grimaces. "Let's just say this story is too sentimental for me to tell without vomiting." 

"That's not fair!" Jingyi exclaims, then he begins poking Nie Huaisang's shoulder with a finger, "you can't just light the worst spark ever and refuse to fan it. You have to tell us. You have to. You have to." 

Nie Huaisang bats Jingyi's hand away. "You gossip mongers," he accuses, eyeing them all, "at least pretend to have shame." 

Sizhui colors at the admonishment while Jin Ling scowls. Jingyi, for his part, mumbles audibly, "Look who's talking about shame." 

Nie Huaisang's eyebrows shoot up before a slow, cunning smile unfurls on his face. "I knew you were a man of substance," he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Jingyi blinks. "Does that mean you'll tell us?" 

"So much for indulging you," Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes, brushing him off, "It was nothing big, just… Wei Wuxian went on the date and then bolted. Then he got drunk and complained to Lan Zhan, crying, that I forced him to go on a date. Least to say, both of them didn't talk to me for a month after that. Lan Wangji still holds a grudge." 

"Damn…," Jin Ling comments their collective reaction out loud. 

Sizhui doesn't say it out loud but his expression positively conveys a very smug, 'Deserved'. 

"What's so sentimental about this though?" Jingyi asks dubiously, "You reaped what you sowed." 

Nie Huaisang sighs, lost in thought. "A month later," he says after a while, "Wei Wuxian told me, in another drunken haze, that his heart is too fragile to be broken more, he cannot give it to just anyone." 

Sizhui makes a strangled sound and quickly covers it with a cough. Zizhen can understand. Even the narrator of the story has turned morose. 

"He said that Lan Zhan is the only one he can entrust his heart with," Nie Huaisang tells them, grimacing, "because he knows he'll always be careful with it." 

Jingyi, who had been weirdly silent, lets out a hiccup. How uncomfortable that is can perhaps be determined by the fact that Jin Ling steps up to rub Jingyi's back. 

"He thinks that," Jingyi says through his thickened throat, "and he still doesn't know?" 

Huaisang shakes his head, exhausted. 

"Senior Nie, by any chance," Zizhen hesitates, already dreading the answer to what he's about to ask, "you didn't set up Lan Wangji on a date, did you?" 

Jingyi recovers from his previous turmoil like the snap of a twig. "Tell me you didn't," he says, fixing him with a glare. 

Nie Huaisang shoos them with a hand wave, "Lan Wangji isn't that easy to manipulate," he tsks, "and anyway, we all know what happened when someone tried to hug him." 

The silence that befalls them for the next few moments is deafening. Then:

"Oh my God!" 

"Someone hugged Lan Wangji?" 

"What did Senior Wei do?" 

Zizhen has no idea who said what for it came all at once, loud enough to turn the heads toward them. He sneakily glances at the couch and finds Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian – who's still sprawling against Lan Wangji – peering at them with narrowed eyes. Swallowing, he quickly averts his gaze as if he's the only one who was caught gossiping behind their backs. 

"What happened then?" He dares to ask. 

"You already know he was suspended once," Nie Huaisang states with a shrug, "for punching the trustee's son." 

The four sets of eyebrows shoot up. 

"That was true?!" 

"He punched Wen Xu?"

"Wen Xu tried to hug Lan Wangji?!" 

Zizhen closes his eyes for a moment, utterly tired of the way his friends keep talking over one another. 

"Happened long back, almost two years before you all joined, but yes," Nie Huaisang confirms, "someone dared Wen Xu to hug Lan Wangji and he got punched out cold before he could touch even a hair on him." 

Zizhen's eyes surreptitiously dart over to the couch again. He finds Wei Wuxian excitedly unwrapping one of Lan Wangji's presents, ripping apart the pink blotting paper it was covered in with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old. 

"Funny how he doesn't look capable of violence at all," Zizhen mumbles, mostly to himself, although it's heard loud and clear if Nie Huaisang's following laughter is any evidence. 

"Incapable of violence, you say?" He laughs more, turning to look at the couch, "yeah I guess he looks too innocent." 

"Is he not?" Sizhui asks, somewhat offended. 

Nie Huaisang shakes his head. "Let's just say people know of the punch because it happened here." 

"Did something happen outside too?" Jingyi exclaims. 

"Yes," Nie Huaisang exasperates, "he hung Wen Xu upside-down on a tree for the whole night." 

Jingyi pauses. For a moment he looks like he's seriously taking Nie Huaisang's word for it until Jin Ling smacks him on the head. 

"Idiot," Jin Ling barks.

Jingyi narrows his eyes at Nie Huaisang and begins poking him on the shoulder again, "C'moooonnn tell us!!" 

Sizhui yanks him back, "I don't think I want to know." 

"But it's so romantic," Jingyi whines. Sizhui does not relent.

Nie Huaisang sighs, "Listen, all I can tell you is Wen Xu apologized the next day," a grimacing pause, "and the whole time Wei Wuxian smiled at him from behind Lan Wangji. It was... unsettling to watch."

This time when Zizhen glances at the couch, the other three pairs of eyes follow, perhaps also wondering just what kind of horror one would have to inflict to make someone like Wen Xu apologize. 

They find Wei Wuxian poking Lan Wangji on the cheeks, thumbing up the corners of his lips to curve them into a smile. Lan Wangji, in response, is exasperatedly indulging him, like he always does. 

Perhaps he doesn't know anything at all, Zizhen thinks with some sort of disbelief. 

"Wonder what would happen if it happened with consent," he ill-advisedly blurts, once again. 

"What?" Jin Ling asks. 

He shrugs. "I mean, Wen Xu got punched because he tried to force it," he says thoughtfully, "I wonder what would have happened if Lan Wangji hugged someone of his own accord." 

"Hanguang-jun would never!" Jingyi is quick to make his stance known. 

So is Sizhui, who promptly tsks. "There's no chance." 

Even Jin Ling is agreeing with them, for a change. 

Nie Huaisang, however, has a curious glint in his eyes. 

And… oh. 

Oh no. 

It's not a good kind of look. It's a glint that surfaces when he's plotting something vicious. A glint Zizhen should never be a part of, let alone its source. It's never good news. 

"Please don't," he protests weakly before Nie Huaisang has even said anything. 

In response, Nie Huaisang grins, wide and evil. "Why?" he asks, the glint in his eyes intensifying, "Didn't you want to do something about them a few minutes back?" 

Zizhen swallows. Sizhui looks between them with concern. But Jingyi is suddenly buzzing out of his skin as he is wont to do at any prospect of mischief. 

"Are we doing something?" He asks, excitedly. 

"What do you wanna do?" Jin Ling smacks him again, "Profess their love to each other?" 

Jingyi turns to Nie Huaisang instead, "What's the plan?" 

Nie Huaisang hums to himself for a few moments, the twinkle in his eyes not wavering even once. Then he turns to them with a grin. 

"We're gonna play a game." 

The look of confusion that Zizhen wears is a shared sentiment. 

"What game?" Jingyi asks, and Zizhen isn't sure if he'd like to know. 

"Wait and watch," is the last thing Nie Huaisang says before he's walking out the same backdoor he entered from. 

Jingyi rounds up behind him. "I think it's happening," he says, hooking an arm around his shoulder. 

Among unease and confusion, a large bud of anticipation blossoms in Zizhen's belly. That maybe, just maybe, his favorite story might get its much-needed steering tonight. Even so, "Senior Nie has been trying for years," he reminds him. 

"Only one way to find out," Jingyi grins. 

"Some messed up fucking around," Zizhen agrees. 

When Nie Huaisang returns thirty minutes later, the party is already in full swing. 

"What are we doing?" Jingyi asks, too enthusiastically for Zizhen's liking. 

"Nothing," Nie Huaisang frowns, then winking pointedly at Zizhen, he adds, "yet." 

"What are you planning?" He asks in response, a bit annoyed, "And where did you disappear?" 

"Relax," Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes, "I just went to arrange some chairs." 

And sure enough, a bunch of chairs gets delivered inside at that very moment. Zizhen casts his glance around and finds enough seating arrangements to not require extra chairs. 

Before he can ask or frown or disapprove; before he can even try to make sense of whatever this wretched plan entails, Nie Huaisang is already grabbing the mic and resounding the room with a loud, "Guys and girls and my dearest non-binary pals!" 

Zizhen restlessly skitters over to Jingyi while Nie Huaisang makes a slimy speech about wishing a very pleasurable birthday to his dearest friend Lan Wangji. 

"What do you think he's up to?" He asks in a hushed voice. 

Sizhui shrugs, looking around, as confused as himself while Jingyi's full attention is focused on Nie Huaisang. 

"I think he's about to get us in trouble," Jin Ling murmurs, frowning. 

Nobody gets to ask Jin Ling for any clarification because the next moment, Nie Huaisang provides it himself. 

"This," he gestures widely at the chairs, "is my gift to the birthday babe." 

Zizhen's eyes snap to the couch on the side. A confused quirk of brow appears on Lan Wangji's face. Wei Wuxian's eyes, however, narrow ominously. 

"Oh no, not the chairs," Nie Huaisang explains uselessly, deliberately drawing out the reveal, "a game, actually." 

"A kissing game." 

Now that gets a lot more reaction – from the people who have suddenly started murmuring among themselves, as well as the two men perched on the couch. Lan Wangji is eyeing the chairs warily. Wei Wuxian's eyes, if possible, have narrowed even more. 

"The willing participants," Nie Huaisang quickly explains, "will play a game of musical chairs and the prize for the winner will be a kiss," he eyes the people, "from the Ice Prince himself." 

Silence. 

Absolute, pin-drop silence.  

Some people intently gaze at Lan Wangji who now has a full-blown glare directed at Nie Huaisang. Zizhen wonders if his glasses intensify its effect or water it down. 

A much larger majority though, is warily eyeing the man beside Lan Wangji. 

Wei Wuxian, for his part, is frowning very hard. 

Like he's trying to piece a very hard puzzle that will somehow reveal the demerits of kissing his best friend. 

When a prolonged frowning session gives him no reasonable answer for his apparently sudden resentment toward Lan Wangji being kissed, he directs his frustration toward the root of it. 

"I think you forgot something," he says pointedly, glaring, "Something important." 

Nie Huaisang feigns innocence. 

"Lan Zhan's permission." Wei Wuxian grits out. 

Nie Huaisang considers that, then he nods. "I don't hear any protest, do you?"

Lan Wangji's gaze turns steely. "Huaisang," he warns. 

"Alright, alright," Nie Huaisang puts up his hands, cowering a little, "you don't want to? Fine by me. Let your protest be known." 

"Tell Wei Wuxian you never want to be kissed." 

Lan Wangji is caught off-guard with his wording, if the slight widening of his eyes is any tell. It's pathetically evident that Nie Huaisang is goading him and yet— 

Wei Wuxian's eyebrows have scrunched once again, jaw set in a hard line, gazing intently at his best friend – who refuses to meet his eyes – as if he's trying to work a high-grade calculus problem, which, weird, being someone who literally solves the high-grade calculus problems within a matter of seconds. 

When neither of them utters another word, Nie Huaisang excitedly claps his hands. 

"So… do we have volunteers?" 

Once again, all the eyes pan toward Wei Wuxian who is still gazing at Lan Wangji who is still avoiding his eyes. 

"Lan Zhan…," he calls out, softly. When it gets no response, his face shutters. 

In the next moment, Wei Wuxian raises his eyes to glare at the people instead, with just a tinge of challenge that he probably doesn't even realize is there. As if daring the people to try and step up. 

It stutters out quickly when one of them actually does voice out a loud, "Me!" 

Next to Zizhen, Sizhui is already scowling. 

"He just wants to make trouble," Jingyi whispers, eyes intent on the figure that steps out of the crowd. 

Xue Yang makes his way over to Nie Huaisang, with a vile grin on his face and an almost sinister twinkle in his eyes. 

When Wei Wuxian turns to look at him, his face is blank, devoid of any expression. His eyes flick over to Lan Wangji and then back. 

"I'd kill to know what's going on in that head of his," Jingyi whispers again, and Zizhen – horrifyingly enough – cannot agree more. 

They aren't even over the shock of Xue Yang when another voice quips. "I'm playing too." A female. 

"Sometimes, friends are your biggest foes," Sizhui mutters, mirroring the sentiment that crosses over Wei Wuxian as Wen Qing walks over. Confusion, betrayal, and a bit of annoyance, all at once. 

Wen Qing, in response, only raises a challenging eyebrow. 

But when Xiao Xingchen joins, Wei Wuxian finally loses his cool. "Is this for real?" 

And well, he's not wrong. Because… what the hell? 

"Isn't he committed?" Jin Ling hisses the obvious. 

Xiao Xingchen smiles, sweet and serene. "You mind, Zichen?" He asks the man behind him. 

Song Lan shrugs. "Not at all." 

When Su She joins the participants, the entire arena collectively rolls its eyes. 

And Wei Wuxian has apparently had enough because he abruptly stands up. 

"Lan Zhan and I will play too." 

Half the eyebrows in the hall shoot up; the rest, frown. Including Nie Huaisang. 

Lan Wangji, however, finally looks up at him, after what seems like an eternity. Catching his gaze, Wei Wuxian's expression sours. 

"What?" He asks in a somewhat agitated voice, pressing a thumb on the bridge of Lan Wangji's sagging glasses to raise them, "You don't want me to?" 

Lan Wangji too stands up, slowly, his face never easier to read than now. Even someone who's never seen him can catch the flicker of hope that flares in his eyes behind the specs. 

"You want to play?" He asks, voice so unbearably fragile as if scared of the answer. 

Wei Wuxian's face softens. "Of course," he frowns, confused, "why wouldn't I?" 

Zizhen resists the urge to place a fist on his chest and say, awww. Jingyi does not. "I knew he had it in him," he beams at Wei Wuxian. 

Nie Huaisang chooses that very moment to be annoying again.

"That's not how it happens," he shakes his head, "Lan Wangji can't play. He's the prize!" 

"And why is that?" It's Lan Wangji who interjects, voice fierce. "It's my party, is it not?"

And well, what is that if not the truth, even if it makes little sense. 

It gets settled quickly after that. Seeing Wei Wuxian willing to play emboldens all those who were hesitating initially, and soon enough, the number of candidates shoots up. The party hall is almost buzzing. The only one buzzing more than all of them combined is Jingyi. 

"Told you it's happening," he says, bouncing on his heels. 

The hope Zizhen was carrying blooms in his chest, just like it had on Lan Wangji's face, leaking out of him in the form of an effervescent smile. 

He loves happy endings. He really really loves them. 

It dampens a little when he glances at Wei Wuxian whose face is still devoid of any expression, but he's going to be optimistic, he decides. In the end, when it all works out, Senior Wei will probably thank him. 

The resolve dissipates completely when Wei Wuxian begins trudging toward the drinks counter with heavy, hostile steps. 

Zizhen instinctively shifts two steps away. Wei Wuxian is the loveliest senior he knows. But also, nobody messes with him where Lan Wangji is concerned. The only one before them was… Wen Xu. 

An image of himself hanging upside-down on a tree crosses his mind. 

He swallows. 

A second-year student, Mo Xuanyu, jumps behind the counter. "Senior Wei, let me," he says when Wei Wuxian reaches over, quickly picking up the spritzer, "What would you like?" 

Wei Wuxian silently places his order. And then, once Mo Xuanyu gets busy making his drink, he turns to the four of them. 

"Who's idea was it?" He voices, calm and even, face blank. 

Zizhen has to remind himself that he's not at fault alone. He also has to remind himself that he has the best-est friends in the world who would never tattle on him. 

In the next second, Jingyi points sideways and says, "Jin Ling's." 

Jin Ling immediately retaliates with another smack to his head. 

"It was Senior Nie's," Sizhui quickly offers. Sizhui doesn't lie, but then, this isn't entirely a lie. Much to Zizhen's relief, Wei Wuxian's glare once again gets fixed back in Nie Huaisang's direction. 

Before Wei Wuxian can flip more, his drink is delivered. The way he chugs it all down in one go makes Zizhen want to take another step back.

Divine mercy showers in the form of Nie Huaisang calling them over to help with setting up the chairs. 

Before leaving, Zizhen blurts, "Senior Wei, I'm really happy for you," with all the genuineness of a well-wisher who has, for so long, wished nothing but happiness for him. 

Because why not? His quota of ill-advised blurting is already overflowing tonight. 

Wei Wuxian, though, frowns. "Happy?" 

"You're going to play… finally," he says eagerly. 

"Of course I'm gonna play," Wei Wuxian says with a determined set to his jaw, "someone has to save him from these monsters," he scans the room distastefully, "he does not like to be touched." 

Even with all the warmth blossoming in Zizhen's chest, he thinks it's a bit unfair to label them all monsters. 

"Uhh Senior Wei," he tells him as much, "don't get me wrong but maybe they just want to have fun in the game. Not everyone wants to kiss—," he cuts himself off at the abrupt jerk Wei Wuxian turns to him with. 

"Of course they do," Wei Wuxian frowns, completely unwilling to consider otherwise, "have you seen my Lan Zhan?" 

"Ah haha right," Zizhen gulps. "Don't worry though," he attempts again, because he truly wants nothing more than to encourage him. Moreover, it's kind of sweet how highly Wei Wuxian thinks of Lan Wangji. "I'm certain you'll win." 

"It's not me who has to win," Wei Wuxian mutters with a careless shrug. 

And all the thoughts, the hope, the warmth, the anticipation thrumming inside Zizhen glide to a screeching halt. 

"What?" He shrieks, voice a bit high pitched. 

Wei Wuxian glances at him and whatever he sees has him frowning. "Are you alright?" He asks, placing a hand on Zizhen's forehead, "Sit down if you'd like to." 

"W-What do you mean it's not you who has to win?" Zizhen soldiers on, "H-He has to kiss you." 

Wei Wuxian steps back, regarding him with confusion. 

"No he doesn't," He says, with horrifying truthfulness, "Why would he?"

For a moment, Zizhen has to take a pause to wonder if he's sad or just very very pissed. 

"Then why did you–just now why—," he cannot bring himself to finish no matter what. 

Nie Huaisang calls Wei Wuxian back. 

"Senior Wei!" Zizhen bursts out urgently before he can leave, "t-think about it once… what are you even doing… that's not how it'll work, please I mean—," he's pretty much blabbering he realizes, so he takes a breath and squeaks, with a bit of desperation, "Who's supposed to win if not you?" 

Wei Wuxian blinks at his outburst. "Lan Zhan," he says innocently, "Who else?" 

Zizhen, if possible, is suddenly even more confused. Taking the look on his face, Wei Wuxian sighs, attempting to explain more. 

"He's the only one he can't kiss, isn't he?" 

And then he's gone. 

For a moment, Zizhen just stands there blinking at the empty space that was previously occupied by Wei Wuxian. 

Then in one swift movement walks over to his friends and drags them back – much to Sizhui's confusion and Jingyi's annoyance – and wastes no time in recounting his conversation with Wei Wuxian. 

The comfort he feels watching the color drain off their faces is not insignificant. At least there's some camaraderie in this adversity. 

Jingyi bursts out, "We have to tell him," already making his way over. 

Sizhui immediately pulls him back. "Not now!" 

"Then when?" Jingyi exclaims, staring at the assortment of chairs already set up in the middle of the room, alternately facing the opposite sides. 

That is a question nobody has the answer to. 

They look for Nie Huaisang and find him already with the DJ. 

And just like that, to Zizhen's horror and Jingyi's utter agitation, the game begins. 

It begins with an upbeat rap song, of course, because Nie Huaisang is manning the music. But the heavy dread that descends upon the four people next to the drinks counter is wildly in contrast with the foot tapping beats that resound throughout the hall. 

Time seems to proceed in slow motion for Zizhen, who watches with his heart in throat, as the people begin circling the chairs in the middle of the room, some swaying and some dancing to the beats of music. 

The first to go is, unsurprisingly, Su She. The moment the music stops, Wei Wuxian pushes him out of the way and perches on the seat he was about to take, grinning like a gremlin. 

It's a blatant violation of the rules. The public turns a collective blind eye to it. 

It's also not the first one, as it turns out, because Wei Wuxian is determined to push his agenda by hook or by crook. He puts his hyperactive brain into the game as well. Not to mention, he's sneaky, strategic, and very clever. He makes sure to go for the last chair so Lan Wangji would always have a seat before him. He also makes sure to stay as far away from Lan Wangji as he can so they would never contend for the same chair. 

When the music stops for the second time – another annoying upbeat song – the next to go is Jiang Yanli on whom Wei Wuxian uses his puppy eyes. He gives her an exaggerated pout and she willingly leaves her chair for him, genuinely looking guilty as if she was about to commit the crime of snatching her A-Xian's chair. 

In the third round, Zizhen catches him sneakily passing a few bills to Qin Su, and sure enough, when the music pauses, Qin Su exits the game giving an easy win to Wei Wuxian. 

By the fourth round, Wei Wuxian is pretty much battling it out with everyone. The downside of it is that he genuinely looks like he's trying very hard to win. 

A look at Nie Huaisang reveals him grinning, probably believing what's apparent. Zizhen has never wanted to bang his head on the wall so much. 

To make matters worse, it soon becomes clear just why Lan Wangji was so eager to join the game. With how he looks over the moon thinking Wei Wuxian is trying hard to win. How he willingly stays far away from Wei Wuxian. How he prevails through the bodily contacts Wei Wuxian makes with other contestants without so much as a frown. How he does not pout at all everytime Wei Wuxian sprints away from him when he finds him close – he's clearly doing the same thing Wei Wuxian is. 

Lan Wangji is trying to make Wei Wuxian win. 

Zizhen's stomach, if possible, drops even lower. 

"Ohmygod Hanguang-jun is going to be shattered," Jingyi voices next to him, already shattering on behalf of his Hanguang-jun. 

"And so humiliated," Jin Ling offers unhelpfully, looking just a bit on edge. 

"That too on his birthday," says Sizhui, voice terribly small. 

"By his own best friend," Zizhen meekly finishes for all of them. 

In the next round, Wen Qing, perhaps clocking Wei Wuxian's dumbassery, decides to have her own fun. The moment the annoying song stops, she jumps in front of him and blocks the chair he was about to sit on. When he tries pushing her, she grabs its backrest, refusing to let go. 

Wei Wuxian, definitely not one to give up, grabs her waist from behind to pull her back, not letting her sit. 

It makes for a very awkward picture for the whole minute their scuffle lasts before Wei Wuxian, having the advantage of physical strength, successfully removes her from his path. 

When Zizhen looks at Lan Wangji, his face is thunderous. 

And so, in the next round, perhaps letting his pettiness win out to exact revenge, Lan Wangji gives up his seat to Mianmian. The four of them immediately whip their head toward Wei Wuxian, and sure enough, find him scowling so hard as if to pelt himself into another dimension. 

Mianmian takes a look at a glaring Lan Wangji, then takes a look at a scowling Wei Wuxian, and quietly exits the game. 

When it's Jiang Wanyin's turn, before Wei Wuxian can put up any kind of fight, he gets pushed into the chair with a lot of force. Following it come a few choice curses before his brother stomps off. 

Wei Wuxian cackles and blows him a kiss. 

In the third last round, raising a lot of eyebrows, Xue Yang makes a whole show of offering his seat to Xiao Xingchen, making Song Lan frown at the back. 

In the second last round, furthering everyone's belief that Wei Wuxian is trying to win, Xiao Xingchen too exits the game. 

And hence, aligning with Zizhen's trepidation, in the last round, the only two who remain in the middle of the room are Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian with a chair between them. 

Jingyi is almost crying now and Sizhui has turned away, no longer wanting to look. 

More horrifyingly, the last song that comes up is a romantic one. 

Zizhen no longer wants to bang his head on the wall. He wants to bang Nie Huaisang's head on the wall. 

The song starts slow and jingling. The two men begin circling the chair, also slow and easy, eyes fixed on each other. 

It goes on. Zizhen holds his breath, dumbfounded at the irony of it all. The purest display of affection. Intent honest on both the sides. Hoping nothing but the best for each other. And yet, destined for heartbreak. 

Also on both the sides. 

Because the easiest way to break Wei Wuxian's heart is to break Lan Wangji's heart. 

Tenfold worse if it comes from his own hands. Unintentional. 

The song does not pause abruptly but rather slows down to a stop, leaving behind lingering notes of You know I love you so….

Pin-drop silence. 

Neither of them takes the chair. 

The expectant look on Lan Wangji's face squeezes Zizhen's chest. 

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, is smiling. A little sweaty, red in the face, and high on adrenaline, he is positively glowing. 

When all Lan Wangji does is stare at him – gaze unreadable with a little knot between his eyebrows – Wei Wuxian shifts the chair closer to him, like offering him a throne he's won for the ice prince following a gruelling battle. 

And then the whispers start, hushed murmurs buzzing throughout the hall. 

Lan Wangji's face shutters when the realization dawns. For once, Zizhen appreciates the glasses on him. He does not want to know what his eyes look like. 

Jingyi also turns away. 

Zizhen attempts to swallow the lump in his throat. He angrily turns to glare at Nie Huaisang and finds his face completely blank, for once. A little lost and perhaps a bit guilty. 

His eyes draw back to the center when Lan Wangji quietly steps up and sits on the chair with a sigh. His eyes remain fixed on his hands resting in his lap, lost in thought, jaw set in a hard line. 

An excruciating second later, Lan Wangji slowly looks up at Wei Wuxian. 

"I'd like my prize now." 

Zizhen does not gasp but he can swear he hears one. Sizhui and Jingyi turn back with a jerk. 

Lan Wangji's voice, although thick and gravelly, has a certain kind of decisiveness in it. Like the last thread of his patience has finally snapped. 

Wei Wuxian, who was still grinning till now, almost shrieks, a bit high-pitched, "What?" 

Zizhen watches his throat bob once before Lan Wangji speaks again.

"I said," he enunciates clearly, "I'd like my prize now." 

The grin slips off Wei Wuxian's face. 

"What?" He asks again, much quieter, "that-that's not how it happens, haha, Lan Zhan you doofus, hah, you don't know anything. I'll explain to you later how people kiss, alright? Be quiet now." 

"I know how people kiss, Wei Ying," Lan Wangji grits out icily. 

Zizhen would never ever want to be the receiver of that tone of voice. 

"D-Do you truly want to kiss?" Wei Wuxian asks, voice a bit frail. 

Lan Wangji nods.

"Whom?" 

"Anyone would do." 

The confusion in Wei Wuxian's eyes turns into a glare. 

"What the fuck do you mean?" His voice turns frosty too. 

"The winner was promised a kiss," Lan Wangji shrugs, cool and breezy, "it must be fulfilled." 

Wei Wuxian smiles, sharp with an undercurrent of steel. "Now is not the time to enforce rules."

"I'm only asking what's mine," Lan Wangji retorts in a hard voice, "My prize. You threw this party to get me presents. Won't you let me have it now?" 

Wei Wuxian's smile wavers. He stares at him for a few moments, then sighs. 

"Nobody is the winner here except you," his voice carries a hint of challenge that Zizhen isn't sure if it's for Lan Wangji or others, "Nobody will kiss you."

Lan Wangji leans back into the chair, folding his arms. "Is that so?" He asks, scanning the room in general. 

Wei Wuxian, glaring at the people from the corner of his eyes, clocks the exact moment Su She begins to crawl out once again. Shutting his eyes, he takes in a pissed-off breath. 

"Very well," he says, stepping forward, and holds Lan Wangji's face in his hands. 

"If the winner has to be kissed," he tips his face up, "it should be the runner-up's right." 

Then he slots their lips together. 

Zizhen gasps, he's certain it's him this time. Jingyi's hand, that had somewhere along all of that, latched onto Sizhui's arm, is almost clawing bruises into his skin but Sizhui has no notice of it. 

Just as quickly, Wei Wuxian pulls back, blinking profusely, the kiss being nothing more than a peck. 

Nie Huaisang quickly replays the last song, perhaps to break the tension in the atmosphere. It works. The buzzing murmurs break into chuckles. 

Wei Wuxian, however, is still blinking, eyes excruciatingly fixated on Lan Wangji who is looking at him with a blank face. 

He slowly raises a hand and fists the lower of Wei Wuxian's shirt. Then he gives it a tug. Wei Wuxian stumbles into his lap, almost melting. 

Lan Wangji takes off his glasses and hooks them into Wei Wuxian's collar. Then he snakes another hand behind Wei Wuxian's neck and pulls him in. 

The next kiss is longer than the last one, but still chaste enough. Just slow, insistent movement of lips like testing the waters. 

It's also intimate enough to make Sizhui avert his eyes. Some others – the likes of Wen Qing – roll their eyes as if to say finally and move on to the pizza. The likes of Jingyi stare shamelessly with eyes large as saucers. 

And the likes of Zizhen, they know they should look away, but have waited too long anticipating it to actually do so, almost worried that it might disappear. 

By the time Wei Wuxian pulls back, he has settled comfortably in the lap. 

"C-Can we do it again?" He asks. Zizhen can make it out only because he's straining his ears so hard. "I want to do that again." 

Lan Wangji nods. 

The third time Wei Wuxian captures the kiss, he goes all in. Holding Lan Wangji's face, tilting his own, all tongue and teeth and—

Zizhen looks away. He drags away Jingyi too.

Whatever else follows between them – talking, clarifying, more kissing, or confessing – that's only their business. 

"Good job," Jingyi breathes heavily while he is being dragged away, "a minute of that more and I would have evaporated." 

Zizhen understands. 

They pass by Jiang Wanyin whining to Nie Huaisang. 

"They're going to be so much more insufferable now," he says to a cackling Nie Huaisang.

Zizhen thinks they deserve it. 

"I'm craving some pizza," he says, suddenly remembering the sorry excuse of breakfast he had eaten in the morning. 

"I too have my appetite back," Sizhui agrees. 

"Let's have cake first," Jingyi interjects, still a little dazed, "Sizhui was eyeing it when we came." 

Zizhen is too giddy to roll his eyes at them. 

"I was not," Sizhui is quick to take offense. 

"Yes you were," Jin Ling scowls. 

They bicker the entire way to the buffet. 

The rest of the night, whenever Zizhen's glance pans toward the center, he finds them talking or laughing or stealing kisses. 

Sometimes, he catches one of their friends trying to separate them and failing. 

All Zizhen does about it is smile. 

Later when it's time for them to return to the dormitory, Wei Wuxian is still snuggled into his now beloved's lap, sitting atop the same chair that he battled everyone to win for Lan Wangji.

The four of them contemplate if they should greet them once and then decide against it, none of them thick-faced enough to step closer to their shameless display. 

Nie Huaisang approaches them, however, right before leaving, and informs them that Wei Wuxian is going to pay their cafeteria bills for the next two months. 

"Make sure to exploit him as much as you want," he adds. 

Zizhen glances back but nobody is looking in his direction, busy as the lovebirds are gazing at each other. 

"What he means is Hanguang-jun is going to pay for us," Jingyi comments as they exit, making them laugh. 

It's still just another day when Zizhen climbs into bed that night. 

But it's also one that will make him smile for a long, long time.