Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Biologically Determined Dom/sub Roles, BDSM, Bad BDSM etiquette, Sadism, Masochism, Past Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Self-Harm, BDSM as a Form of Self-Harm, Minor Character Death(s), Arson, Shades of Black Widow Wei Wuxian, Extremely Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Normalized Homosexuality and Bisexuality, Normalized Polyamory, Nonsexual BDSM, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Pining Wei Wuxian, Jealous Wei Wuxian, Touch-Starved Wei Wuxian, Professional Dominant Wei Wuxian, Sex Worker Wei Wuxian, Gentle Dom Lan Wangji, Mean Dom Lan Wangji, Oblivious Lan Wangji, Past Wen Chao/Wei Wuxian, Minor Jin Guangyao/Wei Wuxian, Mentioned Wei Wuxian/Others, Emotional Infidelity, Angst with a Happy Ending, Endgame Wangxian, Mo Xuanyu Also Gets a Happy Ending, the tags are scary but i promise there's some lightheartedness too, wangxian love one another so much, wei wuxian is healed by the power of nonsexual bdsm and friendship, and then gets bdsm'd quite sexually and happily by the love of his life, Additional Warnings In Author's Note
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says, feigning hesitance as he and his brother eat the breakfast. Jiang Cheng is already primed, suspicious thanks to the spread Wei Wuxian has put together. Truthfully, he wants Jiang Cheng suspicious. It’ll make him think Wei Wuxian wants something worse than what he’s about to ask for, which means he might get it without too much fuss.
“I know that tone.” Rolling his eyes, Jiang Cheng gestures at the table. “I knew it was too good to be true. What do you want?”
Jiang Cheng has gotten so much more cranky, opinionated, and outspoken since they were young, but despite proof that he can handle himself, Wei Wuxian still feels the urge to protect him.
That’s the part that makes this difficult. He doesn’t want to hurt Jiang Cheng and he doesn’t want to cause trouble.
“I was hoping to take a look at all the financials,” Wei Wuxian says carefully, “for Lotus Pier. Whatever documentation you have.”
Wei Wuxian expects Jiang Cheng to shout, to scold, to stomp off. What he doesn’t expect is for Jiang Cheng to smirk bitterly. It’s better than an argument or an outright refusal, but it makes Wei Wuxian suspicious anyway. “No wonder you made breakfast.”
Wei waits for the final strike.
“Jie has them.”
Ah, there it is.
Wei Wuxian’s heart sinks. His palms starts to sweat. His heart beat quickens.
“Why?”
“After…” He gestures vaguely, finally showing a hint of remorse. “…she kept all the records. I didn’t want to deal with them. Who else can I trust with all of my mistakes?”
Wei Wuxian can understand wanting to leave the worst things he’s ever done in the hands of another. He won’t blame Jiang Cheng, even if it makes things difficult for Wei Wuxian. “Will you get them from her for me?”
“Hell no,” Jiang Cheng says. “I promised myself I’d never have anything to do with them again. You might as well do it. She’ll be suspicious anyway.”
“Jiang Cheng…”
“I just don’t see why you won’t talk to her. She’s our jie. She won’t be mad at you.” He eyes Wei Wuxian, sensing his weakness maybe, how easily Jiang Cheng can tip him over. “You’ll have to ask her.”
There’s nothing Wei Wuxian can say to that.
Jiang Cheng clears his throat, quiet, too, for a long stretch, before speaking as though he’s being begrudged. “There’s never going to be a day when you’ll feel ready. You’re always going to think you should protect her.”
“I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
“Trying to protect her just hurts her more,” he says, teeth gritted, expression grim.
The realization clicks so suddenly that he’s ashamed he didn’t realize it before. “You know from experience.”
“No shit.”
Though Wei Wuxian wrote Jiang Cheng off when he first brought it up, he lets himself think about what Jiang Cheng has said this time, and how much better off he seems to be for it. “Alright,” he says eventually, even while his nerves threaten to get the better of him. He can’t avoid her forever. “Alright, fine.”
Before Wei Wuxian is ready, Jiang Cheng pulls out his phone. He didn’t mean he wanted to do it right this second. He wants time to prepare, so he can find something reasonable to say to her. Not this.
But even if Wei Wuxian tackled him, he wouldn’t be quick enough. The call is already connecting, phone help in front of him. “I’m doing you a favor.”
“Jiang Cheng! Not a video—”
But it’s too late. “A-Cheng,” she says, as sweet as he remembers her being. His chest seizes with the need to see her, to talk to her. Every reason he has to avoid seeing her falls away at the sound of her voice. Video call, phone call, semaphore, it doesn’t matter. He yanks the phone out of Jiang Cheng’s hand and nearly presses his own face to the screen just to be closer to her. “Jiejie,” he says, voice thick with the emotions he’s unable to suppress. Tears well in her eyes as she stares at him, one hand pressed to her mouth as she calls his name. “Jiejie, don’t cry, okay?” He brushes his hands over his cheeks, thumb brushing aside the tears that stain his own. “Don’t cry.”
“You don’t cry.” A laugh hitches in the back of her throat. Her fingertips reach for the screen, as though that might help her bridge the distance still between them. He mirrors the action. “A-Xian, is that really you?”
“It’s me.”
Her expression crumbles. “You look so thin.”
“Jiejie, come on.” Laughing, he taps one still very solid shoulder. He was definitely smaller when he was younger. “I’m built these days.”
She stubbornly refuses to concede the point, insisting he looks like a wayward orphan, lost and malnourished and desperately in need of someone to cook for him despite having spent so much time with Lan Zhan and Mo Xuanyu. “I’m booking a train ticket,” she says. “A-Ling and I will be there this afternoon.”
“But—”
“No arguments,” she replies, kind but with a core of steel beneath it. “A-Ling hasn’t been to Lotus Pier in a month anyway. I want him to come before he forgets what A-Cheng looks like.”
“Like he could.” Jiang Cheng wrestles the phone out of Wei Wuxian’s hand. “Jie, he wants the information you have on Lotus Pier.”
“A-Xian? After everything, you…?”
“Our parents worked hard for it,” he says, unable to meet her eyes, “I’d like it to be worthwhile.”
She seems to understand, nodding sweetly, and only says, “Alright. I’ll bring the drive with me. I’ll message you with my arrival time. Pick me up at the station, okay?”
*
“Do you think A-Ling will like me?” Wei Wuxian says, tapping his fingers against the glass of the passenger’s side window. Jiang Cheng drives almost as methodically as Lan Zhan does, except for how he’s so clearly impatient, huffing at every stop light, scoffing when someone tries to cut him off. There’s a car seat in the back that looks like it lives there, an incongruously brightly patterned yellow monstrosity covered in cartoon lions. Wei Wuxian keeps looking at it, imagining himself with a car seat, with a kid to haul around.
He imagines Lan Zhan hauling said kid around with him. Maybe it’s Jin Ling. Maybe it’s not.
“He’s a baby,” Jiang Cheng answers. “If you’re loud and bright, he’s guaranteed to like you.” He cuts a sidelong glance Wei Wuxian’s way. “You have the loudness going for you anyway, but you look like you’re attending a funeral.”
He glances down at the outfit he’s wearing, one of his mother’s palest sets of robes, a little like something Lan Zhan might have worn. He likes feeling close to her in this way. “What’s wrong with them?”
“They’re old-fashioned,” Jiang Cheng says. “Nobody dresses like that anymore.” His gaze flicks away. “Even second mother only wore those when it was a formal occasion. Besides, you didn’t dress that way unless you had to.”
“So?”
“So it’s weird.”
“You’re weird,” Wei Wuxian replies, unsettled. He knows how behind the times he is—the first time he spent time with Lan Zhan again is proof enough of that—but hearing it from Jiang Cheng is different. The observation gets under his skin and settles there. “Anyway, what would you have me wear?”
“I don’t know,” Jiang Cheng says.
“Helpful.”
“Hey! I just don’t think it fits you, okay? You can do what you want.” He clicks his tongue, putting an end to the conversation entirely. “Text jie and tell her we’re almost there, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” he replies, taking Jiang Cheng’s phone from the drink holder. When he’s done texting her, he fusses with it, flicking through his tightly organized folders of apps in search of a game or something to otherwise occupy his thoughts. “Don’t you have anything fun on here? How do you live with yourself?”
“I read books,” he replies, mocking. “I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”
Admittedly, there are a lot of apps dedicated to reading, but only one of them has anything to do with actual novels. “Who knew your taste was still this trash?” he asks as he pulls up Qidian and scrolls through it. “Books, huh?”
Jiang Cheng punches Wei Wuxian in the shoulder, his aim perfect despite his eyes never leaving the road. “Shut up. I’m sure your taste hasn’t gotten any better.”
A notification banner flashes on the top of the screen. He ignores the taunt. Frankly, he doesn’t even know what he likes anymore. “Jie says they should be there in about twenty minutes.”
*
“You really think A-Ling will like me?” Wei Wuxian asks as they loiter outside the station. His gaze flicks over the people moving to and fro around them. Jiang Cheng’s not wrong about his clothing. Even here, the items people wear are more casual and, in some cases, flashy. At least he hasn’t seen any conspicuous collars yet. It’s not a shock like before.
“This again?” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “You’ll be his favorite dajiu in no time.”
Despite Jiang Cheng’s sarcastic retort, Wei Wuxian puffs up with pride and ignores what he sees around him. Who cares if he’s dressed like this? “I’m his only dajiu.”
“That makes it easy then, doesn’t it? No competition.” Jiang Cheng’s phone chimes before Wei Wuxian can answer. He checks it, then looks at his entirely redundant watch. “They’re on their way out here,” he says. “Are you ready?”
*
Amid the crowd of arrivals, Wei Wuxian sees her first. Despite all the years that separate them, he would know her anywhere. As she throws herself into his arms, he says, “You cut your hair. I didn’t notice during the call.” He can’t help stroking the short strands before squeezing her shoulders and burying his face in her neck. She smells just like he remembers. “Jiejie. You look amazing.”
“A-Xian, you foolish boy.” She chokes up and clutches him even tighter to herself. “Where have you been all this time?”
Relief floods him as he holds onto her.
“It doesn’t matter now,” he promises her. It’s all in the past; he doesn’t have to hurt her with his history. He doesn’t have to hurt any of them with this history. It can be what it is.
Behind Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng lifts Jin Ling from his stroller and hitches him onto his hip. “He’s so small,” he whispers. “How can he be so small? Jiang Cheng, be careful with him, ah?” It’s enough to bring fresh tears to Wei Wuxian’s eyes, though happy ones this time. Dark hair hangs around Jin Ling’s wide, precious ears. Wei Wuxian reaches out and strokes his forehead, his bangs. Jiang Yanli laughs helplessly as she turns, tucking herself under Wei Wuxian’s arm. “He’s perfect, even if he is half Jin Zixuan’s.”
Jin Ling latches onto his finger and shoves it into his warm, gummy little mouth, only a few blunt teeth grown in to gnaw at it.
“You want me to be careful,” Jiang Cheng says, batting Wei Wuxian’s finger out of Jin Ling’s mouth. “That’s unhygenic. What if he gets sick?”
Wei Wuxian apologizes, but he’s unrepentant. He returns his attention to Jiang Yanli. “Can I hold him?”
“You’ll have to fight me for him,” Jiang Cheng says, exaggerating as he turns his body away while cradling Jin Ling’s body protectively, dramatically. “I got here first.”
Jiang Yanli smiles fondly and pats Wei Wuxian on the head. “You’ll have plenty of time with A-Ling. I told Zixuan I’d probably be here for a while. He said he’d finish up his latest project at work and get some leave. We can make a holiday out of it.” Her eyes twinkle. “Maybe Jiang Cheng will invite Wen Qing out this time, too. He keeps her so secretly, I’ve not met her yet.”
Jiang Cheng’s face reddens desperately. “Jie.”
“A-Cheng.”
“Ge just came back. And you know how things were. Maybe he doesn’t want—”
“I don’t mind,” Wei Wuxian says, wistful. He’s glad for Jiang Cheng truly, knowing that he’s found someone. “It’s not like there’s not enough room.”
Jiang Cheng’s shoulders slump in defeat.
She turns her head slightly and winks at Wei Wuxian. He can’t help squeezing her in another brutally tight hug, enjoying the laughter it causes her, which only succeeds in making Jin Ling laugh, too. It’s kind of nice getting to gang up on Jiang Cheng with Jiang Yanli.
Then she looks at him speculatively. “What about you?”
“What about me what?”
“Do you have anyone you would like to invite? How long has it been since we’ve had a full house?”
He opens his mouth, closes it, considers how to answer. “I…” With a laugh, he shrugs his shoulders. Of course there’s someone he’d invite, but it would be reckless to do so. “Come on, shouldn’t it just be family and family adjacent people?”
“Who’s he going to invite?” Jiang Cheng asks at the same time.
“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli replies. Though Wei Wuxian isn’t particularly embarrassed by the turn this conversation has taken, he does know it’s not a topic he wants to pursue. Unfortunately for him, jiejie is perceptive. “You do have someone, don’t you? A friend, at least?”
He’s walked right into a trap, and he doesn’t know how to extricate himself without damaging something in the process. He’s lied for so long; he owes his family a few truths, even the stupid, painful ones. “Lan Zhan. He’s a… friend.”
“Lan Zhan? The boy you liked when we were kids? You’re still in contact with him?” she says. “That’s Lan Wangji, right?”
“Yep,” Jiang Cheng replies, displeased.
“Is he still cute?” Jiang Yanli asks, ignoring Jiang Cheng’s displeasure entirely.
“Cute?” Wei Wuxian asks.
“I only saw him a few times, but he had such chubby cheeks.” She smiles fondly. “And he always looked like he was pouting even though he was otherwise quite composed and dignified.”
He must have hit a growth spurt when Wei Wuxian met him, because he didn’t have chubby cheeks when Wei Wuxian knew him. If he did, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have given him even a moment’s reprieve. Lan Zhan would have hated him simply because Wei Wuxian would have been even more obsessed with him.
As he imagines Lan Zhan looking pouty, he smiles. He must have been such a cute kid.
“Looks like someone still has a crush, hmm?” she says. “Has he been good to you since you came back, A-Xian?”
“Jiejie, he has a partner,” Wei Wuxian says, placing his hands over his ears and sticking his tongue out. He hasn’t felt this young in years, thinking about Lan Zhan as someone who’s been good to him, someone on whom he might have an innocent crush. It’s more complicated now obviously, but the reminiscence is nice. “It’s not like that. You shouldn’t talk this way in front of you son.”
“Shush,” she says. “And anyway, why should having a partner stop him from being here? Tell him to invite his partner, too.”
“His partner is Mo Xuanyu,” Jiang Cheng points out.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says, scolding. “He’s a good guy.”
“Small world,” Jiang Yanli adds. “I’m sure Zixuan would enjoy getting the chance to reconnect.”
Wei Wuxian feels his life spinning far, far outside his control. “Jie, I don’t know if he’d want that.”
“Would it hurt to offer?”
He’d forgotten how easily, how quickly he finds himself unable to say no to her. It’s like with her around, he suddenly has the courage again to do brazen things. “I’ll text Lan Zhan,” he says dutifully, shooting off the invitation with so many caveats that it probably seems like he doesn’t want them coming at all. It’ll be a whole thing, he types after he invites Lan Zhan plainly. My sister and brother, Jin Zixuan, the Wen siblings who helped me back then. Back then, right there in black and white, like it’s something that can be easily expressed. Back then, a thing that needn’t be discussed further. Back then, so easily understood.
He’s come already to expect immediate answers from Lan Zhan, so he’s disappointed when his phone remains silent.
Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli pivot to the kind of small talk Wei Wuxian has gotten out of practice participating in. Music, mutual friends, celebrity gossip, these are things he knows nothing about, not because he couldn’t have learned while he was in Madam Yang’s employ, but what was the point? He didn’t have anyone to talk to when he was there, and all these topics were so far from his own experiences that it rendered them uninteresting. Now that he was here, he wishes he had kept up, or at least done what he could to get caught back up once he was out.
Near home, his phone finally pings.
>> Do you want us there?
Wei Wuxian tsks.
<< I’m more concerned that you’ll feel obligated.
<< If you’d like to come, my jiejie would be happy to meet you.
<< Or see you again anyway.
After the lack he’s suffered, it’s surprisingly easy to talk to him this way, without having to see him or hear him.
<< She said you used to be cute and chubby cheeked. I’m sad I never got to see it. :(
>> Xuanyu would like to see you.
<< Jin Zixuan won’t be a problem?
>> No.
<< What about you?
From the driver’s seat, Jiang Cheng makes a gagging sound, catches Wei Wuxian’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “Stop smiling like that.”
“I’m not—” But even as he says it, he feels the ache in his cheeks. So maybe he is, a little. No matter what might happen, nothing can feel quite so dire with a cute kid in a car seat next to him.
>> It goes without saying that I would like to see you.
<< Does it?
His phone pings twice in quick succession. One is Lan Zhan’s response—yes—and the other is a picture: Lan Zhan from when he was younger, caught with Lan Huan’s arm around his shoulder. Though Lan Huan is grinning so widely it threatens to overtake the image, Lan Zhan cannot be outshined. In his eyes, there’s no one else, even if he looks like a gloomy baby with round apple cheeks.
His heart threatens to give out.
<< Lan Zhan, you can’t indulge my whims.
>> Too late.
Though his first instinct is to immediately show the picture to Jiang Yanli, he clutches his phone close. “Lan Zhan and Mo Xuanyu will come.” He stretches forward and punches Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “Be nice, okay?”
“I’m always nice,” he answers. “It’s Lan Wangji who’s a stuck up—”
“A-Cheng,” she says, falling so quickly into old patterns. “Behave. A-Xian, don’t bait him.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng says, biting back a smile of his own as he stares at the road. “Listen to jie. She’s wiser than you are.”
“She’s wiser than all of us,” he says, relieved that he gets to say it, that she’s not angry with him or disappointed or disgusted, that he can wrap his arm around her neck and pull her into hugs while they’re squashed together in the car. “I’ve missed you, jiejie.”
“What about me?” Jiang Cheng asks.
“You, too.”
In truth, he’s also missed himself, himself as he is now, something a lot like the man he might have been all along.