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As many young rebellious teens do, Wei Wuxian preferred the cover of the dark to the warm breeze of the day. Each night, when the soft snoring around him had begun, and when he could no longer hear the thumping of footsteps, he would drag himself from the warm cocoon of blankets and begin working on whatever his mind had drifted to wanting; reading, new inventions, writing, etc. The reason as to why so many of us experience such a phenomenon is lost to most. Perhaps it is the isolation, and complete freedom that occurs when no one but you is awake to see you; I would say that that is quite the drug.
Having said so, Wei Wuxian now dreadfully regrets his decision of only ever bidding good night to his project when he would hear the soft songs of birds, because, even without him noticing, his vision had steadily declined to the point that it was hard to tell what was right in front of him without the generous aid of his glasses.
Cursing his younger, stupid self, Wei Wuxian is now not only incredibly late to a job interview but has also lost his glasses. Now this wouldn’t have been a problem if he could at the very least see the blurry outline of them, but not only did his broken vision not help, but also the messy state of his apartment– papers strewn across all surfaces, providing ample space for a thin pair of wired glasses to be hiding–only added to his ongoing panic.
Dropping to the floor, Wei Wuxian began trying to turn over crumpled sheets of paper, clothes, and dishes while gently patting the ground in fear of destroying his sole aid in the visual department with the harshness of his strikes.
Only when he had crawled through every room of his apartment–yet still his glasses evaded his sight–and had nothing as evidence for such an endeavor except for aching knees, and bruised palms –which thankfully was small–Wei Wuxian had finally given up, and resigned himself to simply having to live for the rest of his life squinting at blurry objects. He accepted that he was already late enough, and would probably be cast out at the very sight of his frazzled appearance, and the time on the clock glaring at him and screaming about how irresponsible kids these days are–when he was well past the age of 20 –not being able to even show up on time, absolutely no respect towards their elders.
Wei Wuxian dragged himself to the couch while tugging his hand that wasn’t holding the phone through his now disheveled hair–flyaways hanging out from what was previously an incredibly well done ponytail (if he says so himself). While the brightness of his screen did irritate his eyes with how close he had to put it to his face, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw Lan WangJi’s name sitting in his contacts.
The problem was now: who to call. Jiang Cheng was probably in a business meeting right now, and would only shred his vocal chords if the ring tone Wei Wuxian installed into his phone when he was sleeping blared through the quiet monotone conversations of soulless corporate workers. Nie Huaisang, instead of helping him find the glasses, would rather encourage him to skip the interview, seeing how it was a divine message from God that he happened to lose his glasses this very day. HIs best bet right now was Lan Zhan, who, with his righteous and dedicated personality, would do his best in traversing through the piles of clutter to find his missing spectacles.
With that thought, Wei Wuxian clicked the red button, and with fingers tapping on his thigh, waited for the silk-smooth voice of his best friend to answer. He began to anxiously pick at the seams of the rips in his jeans with each passing ring, as the sole sound in his ears at this point was the cheesy pop tune he had put for his ringtone.
FInally, finally, Wei Wuxian could thank the gods at the miracle that had just occurred, as just as he had imagined to himself not long ago, Lan Zhan’s calming monotone voice substituted the god-awful song–at first it had been merely a fun joke to his friends; them being able to tell exactly where Wei Wuxian is in a crowd upon calling him, but, truthfully Wei Wuxian wanted to vomit each and every time now that same melody played.
“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan quietly formed the letters for his name, a question hanging on the edge on the vowels. Ah, he was supposed to already be at the interview.
“Lan Zhan!” Wailed Wei Ying, as he began to retell the dreadful tragedy that had befallen him, “I fear that I have been cursed, and nobody except a gorgeous, tall, and well-built man can save me,”
“...” He could practically see the burning of the other man's ears as he waited for some response to his proclamation.
A sigh, and then, “Wei Ying, weren’t you supposed to be at your interview right now?” Wei Wuxian continued fiddling with the strings on his pants as he spoke, shredding some of them in the process of his vigorous anxiety ritual.
“Well yes, technically, but as I mentioned before I am currently in the middle of a small, teensy, tiny problem; I can’t find my glasses.” He chuckled nervously, scared that Lan Zhan would scold him for his carelessness and advise him to better organise his stuff, and if he had done so, none of this would have happened, and he wouldn’t be at risk of never getting a job again. But ok, it did, and being lectured on old, and bad habits would be of no use to anyone, even more so him in such a dire situation.
Thankfully, Lan Zhan did none of those things, and, like the angel sent from heaven that Wei Wuxian knew him to be, had offered to help Wei Wuxian in looking for his missing glasses. Now all that was left to do, was to tap his foot to the tick of the clock mounted on the wall, and hope to not cause any more harm to his apartment than he already has inflicted upon it.
The twenty minutes that it took for Lan Zhan–his saviour, his knight in shining armour–to come to his rescue had stretched for eternity, making Wei Wuxian doubt the integrity of his friend’s word. But no, Lan Zhan never lied.
What saved him from further mental collapse had been Lan Zhan’s arrival; signaled by a shrill shriek of the door bell. He couldn’t believe that he felt like a princess that was sequestered away in a tower, waiting for someone–that someone being his absolutely gorgeous best friend–to come save him and solve all his problems along the way.
Now, what he hadn’t considered was how he would manage to cross the threshold of the room without accidentally tripping over blurry shapes that must be either: hastily thrown sneakers, pillows he began interested in trying to embroider, or whatever other junk he gathered. His brother has been convinced that one day, Wei Wuxian would peel off his human disguise, and in the place of warm flesh would be raven feathers and a beak. Back in their youthful days, Wei Wuxian enjoyed tormenting his brother with this fear; chasing after him while cawing as loudly as he could. While this caused him great amusement, Jiang Cheng now insists that whatever Wei Wuxian did had given him trauma that even millions of psychiatrist appointments would struggle to fix. Wei Wuxian is sure he’s just exaggerating. Probably.
Carefully, he slid down the front of the couch–maintaining contact with its surface the whole time, and slowly crawled across the floor, patting the ground, cautious of any objects materialising in his path. An odd feeling of deja vu struck him, as he proceeded with the same actions, albeit with less franticness than that of the morning, until he finally grasped the metallic doorknob.
Outside, stood Lan Zhan in all his 188cm glory, with the light from the outdoors forming a halo around his head. In his hands, Wei Wuxian isn’t exactly sure what it is in perfect detail, but relying on what his maximumly squinted eyes could see, he assumed it to be a magnifying glass? What? Although, he can’t be too sure, as from where he is right now–far enough away that only the blurry outlines of Lan Zhan’s chiseled jaw, and golden dots in place of eyes could be made out–the thin black outline could be anything.
“Wei Ying,” Why does Lan Zhan sound like he just sprinted up the flight of stairs to his floor? “Wei Ying, your interview,” a pause. “I didn’t, you said that you can’t find your glasses.”
Realising that he is still crumpled on the floor, the only thing supporting his weight is his doorknob, which he is limply hanging off of–almost like one of those furry, toy worms–Wei Wuxian hastily stands up, and, to be able to actually see Lan Zhan’s face, steps so closely to him that he could feel the other’s warm breath trailing across his cheek, and curling behind his ear.
“Lan Zhan! You came! I was almost worried that you would leave your poor Wei Ying to fend for himself!” He can see now, now that they are mere centimeters apart, Lan Zhan’s flushed ears, and scrunched brows. What a delight it is to tease him so, as if the sole gift of his relentless pursuit are the most beautiful of expressions, then he would gladly pine endlessly; even without the promise of something more to be his guiding lantern of hope.
“Never.”
Following Lan Zhan’s confession of sorts, the two of them remained placed where they were; not moving, not saying anything, simply enjoying the company that the other’s presence gifted them. While, If Wei Wuxian were to have his glasses, then he would be admiring the beautiful shape of Lan Zhan’s eyes, or the way that his lower lip jutted out slightly in an adorable pout when he was thinking, but as he was now–struggling to see, and struggling to maintain composure–he resisted any urges, and just stood there; basking in the warmth of the sun, and his best friend’s gaze.
It seemed as if ages had passed before either one of them exhaled. They had only done so when, upon realizing the lack of oxygen being inhaled, Wei Wuxian’s lungs began to give out and forced him to begin coughing. As if coming out of a stupor, Lan Wangji startled awake. His hands had come up to awkwardly trace the outline of Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, but never actually grazed him, unknowing whether or not it would be okay for him to touch.
“Lan Zhan! How could I forget to invite you in!” Wei Wuxian gathered himself–internally scolding his screaming lungs for betraying him like that in front of Lan Zhan; what unfilial things they were, to do such a thing to their, would it be, captor?
All of a sudden, when he looked back into his garbage dump of an apartment, and remembered the state it was in–mostly being the reason for him probably failing the interview, and having to live in his best friend’s basement as no one would ever want to hire him anymore–as well as just who it was that was coming in. No longer was his face composed, and or serene, but rather it was as red as a tomato–one that just got incredibly embarrassed.
“Wait! Lan Zhan! Hold on a second!” To his utmost dismay, Lan Wangji had disregarded all social decorum, and past teachings of his incredibly strict uncle who would have an aneurism if he watched his oh so precious nephew barge into someone’s house like so.
“Wei Ying,”
Now, Wei Wuxian has known his best friend for more than thirteen years, having met as sticky twelve year-olds at summer camp, and believes himself to be second only to Lan Xichen at being able to decode whatever it is that Lan Wangji is trying to say with either only the miniscule shifts of his facial expressions, or the change in his vocal inflections. But even now, he is unable to decipher what such a calling of his name would mean. Even if he had recounted all the previous times that he would look back at his best friend after being called by him, but never before had he encountered such a thing as this. It wasn’t disappointed, nor was it happy; was it a mix of both? Wei Wuxian remained perplexed; disgruntled.
Lan Wangji carefully side-stepped all possible safety hazards, and made his way to the couch, same as the way that Wei Wuxian once took–hindered as Wei Wuxian was–prehaps not as much, as he had been granted perfect vision, the audacity–when he had crawled to answer the door only a couple minutes before.
“Why are you still here?” Lan Zhan gathered stray pieces of paper off the floor; placing them in neat piles onto the table. “Isn’t your interview…” Lan Zhan paused as he glanced down at his wrist, and, without a change of vocal inflection, continued on with his earlier sentence, “ ..it should have been 20 minutes ago.”
Scrunching his nose, and wringing his hands, Wei Wuxian began to pace–as much as one could with the limited amount of space provided. “Well, you see, about that,” He finally looked up with a smile that belonged only on the face of deviants, and little, mischievous elves. “ You see, my beautiful and most gorgeous friend, who has perfect eyesight, and who has never once had to question whether something is a trash can or an evil monster about to eat you because you can’t see,” He paused for an extra dramatic effect. “Well, how could I possibly make it to my interview when I cannot see shit.” To the end, Wei Wuxian’s earlier cheery disposition had long vanished in exchange for a panic-stricken countenance that rather better reflected his inner turmoil than it previously had.
“Wei Ying,” For some reason, Lan Zhan was approaching him, with long, in breaking strides (those long legs of his always made Wei Wuxian’s mouth water); a man on a mission, you could call him.
Soon, they were chest to chest, and almost eye to eye. With each small stutter of breath that fanned Wei Wuxian's face, his cheeks grew warmer and warmer. He caught Lan Zhan’s eyes flickering down to his mouth, but then away to above his head a very second later as if caught doing something nefarious.
“Sooooo, what is Lan Zhan doing?” He tried to seem completely oblivious; dense even, to see if that would get him to spill the beans. Alas, his hopes did not come to fruition, but instead Lan Zhan cocked his head to the side, a small smile of his own stretching across his face–which thankfully Wei Wuxian was close enough to see.
“The problem with you not being able to go to your interview is because you cannot see, right?” Squinting his eyes, he tried to figure out if he was completely missing something. “ Yeah, I know I should have told you clearer, but I might have, just a smidge, lost my glasses.” he scratched his cheek, and looked away, no longer wanting to be ‘lost in those eyes’.
For some reason or the other, Lan Zhan had reached above his head, and plucked something from the top of it. Unfortunately for Wei Wuxian, his terrible vision had made it difficult to figure out what shape the blurry object that Lan Zhan had taken was. Before he could even try to guess at what it could be, it was expertly hidden behind Lan Zhan’s back; even if he had clear vision, he lacked clairvoyance, making it impossible for him to get a hint of what Lan Zhan was going to do next.
“I know! Lan Zhan, what if you helped me look for my glasses?” He grasped his hands together–clammy and nervous–”Pretty please!”
Lan Zhan, with all the little shit nature that so many others could not believe him to have, locked at him with a small smile and humorous eyes. “ Do I get something in return?”
Wei Wuxian had to think long and hard about that, as there was nothing that his friend who came from decades of generational wealth lacked–he instead possessed all in abundance. Just as Lan Zhan turned away with a small sigh, Wei Wuxian blurted out, “ A kiss!”
“...”
Even though he could not see the expression reflected on that perfect face of his, he knew he had messed up. So much of his time and energy spent on locking away his desperate crush, and making sure that no one had the slightest idea of his miserable feelings were now all for nothing. Why did he say that? Why would Lan Zhan, the most perfect being on earth, want a kiss from you?!!”
While the silence felt as if it had stretched for far longer than it actually did. It took Lan Zhan only one blink, although a slow one, for him to agree to his preposition almost immediately.
“Okay.” Wei Wuxian, wide eyed, and, if he were a braver man would admit that he was shaking, finally released a small breath of relief. He did not ruin years upon years of friendship.
What he did not expect after that, was to have Lan Zhan extract his hidden hand, and in it, hold something suspiciously close to the shape of his missing glasses.
He could only stare, not moving, not even a tremor.
Due to his lack of vision, he could not see the expectant expression on his friend’s face.
“Are these my glasses?” With a whisper, Wei Wuxian began calculating the next steps that would occur per their earlier agreement–that is if he indeed followed it.
Instead of saying anything, Wei Wuxian could hear two clicks, and then the object, which yes indeed were his glasses, began to approach his face. Suddenly, his world exploded in clarity. Suddenly, every piece of paper stranded across his floor became visible, and scrutinisable to him; the lights too bright, and everything became way too much.
Like a moth to a flame, Wei Wuxian’s gaze could no longer escape the pull that was Lan Zhan. His gaze slid over well built shoulders, followed its path up a strong neck, a defined jawline, and finally met golden eyes.
They didn’t waste a single second after that. His lips met Lan Zhan’s; soft, and oh so inviting. They were like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally clicked into place–what is this? Some kind of romance novel that Huaisang reads?
Thoughts of his other friend were thrown far out the window when strong hands grasped his waist. This was a dream come true, a fantasy buried deep beneath the layers of denial and repression.
They came apart only when Wei Wuxian’s lungs could not take it anymore–despite him playing a wind instrument, and he technically should have had a much stronger capacity than that of Lan Zhan’s–once again, God sure has his favourites. Their faces were much too close to each other, and his hair had probably become too disheveled for him to even attempt to step foot into the interview. The interview! He completely forgot. Now that he had his glasses, nothing except the prospect of continuing to make out with Lan Zhan could stop him. That one thing sure was quite convincing by itself, but the interview for a job he so desperately wanted also nagged him like a scolding mother.
Thankfully, he did not need to choose between one or the other, as Lan Zhan guided his loose form to the door, arranging his clothing to sit better nicely and look far less rumpled than it was right now. He hoped that was enough to not make him look like they were just making out to his possible future bosses.
Just as he was about to leave though, he looked over his shoulder, hugging Lan Zhan tightly to his chest, and whispered into his ear, “ Lan Zhan, let's get married!”