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
“A-Xian, you can relax, you know,” Jiang Yanli says, a fond, forgiving smile on her mouth as Wei Wuxian makes a final pass through the living room, kitchen, and guest room that’s been set aside for Lan Zhan and Mo Xuanyu. She rattles a toy at Jin Ling, her feet tucked into a tub of warm water under the kitchen table. Wen Ning and Wen Qing are quietly supervising the stove as one side dish or other cooks away. At this point, Wei Wuxian isn’t certain how many are being prepared, only that he knows better than to interfere with his sister’s meal planning prowess. Jiang Cheng is rather fiercely scrubbing the counter even though it already looks pristine. Frankly, all of them except for her could probably stand to take a step back. “They’re not supposed to be here until tonight.”
Flopping into the chair next to Jiang Yanli’s, he pouts. “Jiejie, you don’t know how put together Lan Zhan is.” Tracing shapes into the tabletop, he frowns. “What if it’s not welcoming enough?”
“You think jie doesn’t know how to welcome people?” Jiang Cheng asks, prideful.
“No, I—”
Jiang Yanli presses her hand to his, forcing him to be still. “You would have caught it the three other rounds you took around the house.” Her fingertip brushes Jin Ling’s nose as he giggles. “Your dajiu is fussier than A-Cheng these days, isn’t he?”
“Jie!” Jiang Cheng says, aggrieved. “Don’t compare me to him. I only checked everything once.”
Wei Wuxian opens his mouth to argue, but finds himself horrified to realize it’s the truth. Rather than stay here and face the shame of this realization, he lies and says he needs to check the courtyard. Nobody has checked the courtyard yet, he insists. He lies again when he says, “I’ll be right back.”
*
Every pebble that lines every path is perfectly kept. The water in the ponds is clear, though sadly lacking in fish. The handful of small pavilions and seating areas have been meticulously tended, even beyond Jiang Cheng’s usual high standards. Even the handful of rooms that never saw use even as guest houses look freshened up.
Despite the nervousness plaguing him, an unrepentant eagerness fills his chest. When he was younger, he couldn’t have imagined Lan Zhan coming here. In fact, he’s pretty sure Lan Zhan once told him he’d never come to Lotus Pier and that Wei Wuxian shouldn’t bother pestering him about it again, end of story, unless he wants to be disciplined—when didn’t he want to be disciplined back then?—and here they are now.
As he settles on the bench beneath his favorite tree, Wei Wuxian bites back a smile at the memory.
It’s funny how things can change after so long, and sometimes, not for the worse.
*
Tires crunch on the driveway outside the gates that seclude Lotus Pier from the other large residential complexes arrayed around it. The slow and deliberate sound of it rouses Wei Wuxian from the doze he’s fallen into. Definitely Lan Zhan’s style of driving.
Heart in his throat, he returns to the house, ignores Jiang Cheng’s jab about being right back in order to let them know Lan Zhan has arrived, and goes out through the front.
As he steps onto the path leading to the gate entrance, he brushes his hands down his mother’s robes, smoothing away the wrinkles. His nerves awaken, a bloom of butterflies disturbed from slumber only to flutter in every direction.
And yet, an unexpected smile steals over his mouth as Lan Zhan steps out of the driver’s side of the car, the instinctive joy of recognition overriding every other consideration. He feels fifteen and stupid and a little fearless all over again. With more dignity than a fifteen year old could bring to bear, he comes forward to help Lan Zhan pull his and Mo Xuanyu’s luggage from the trunk.
“How was the train ride?” Wei Wuxian asks, subtly fighting Lan Zhan for control of at least one of the suitcases. He fails in his attempt when Mo Xuanyu sneaks up behind him and grabs the handle.
Though Mo Xuanyu’s expression is subdued, he offers Wei Wuxian a smile, tells him it was fine, which Lan Zhan concurs with. His smile falters upon his assessment of them.
In truth, they both look tired, their skin sallow, shoulders drooping. Wei Wuxian feels a deep-seated need to ease their discomfort. After a cursory tour that elides the kitchen and living room—the last thing he wants is for them to get hounded by his family before they’ve had a chance to rest—he brings them to the bedroom he’s prepared for them.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” Wei Wuxian says as he opens the door. “You’re free to rest until then. Or I can bring something to you if you’d rather avoid seeing people right away. The bathroom is right across the hall if you want to clean up. There are extra blankets in the closet if you need them.”
“Thank you, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says.
He steps out of the way, watching them both closely as they enter. They look as though they’re trying to avoid touching or even getting close to one another. Though he considers asking about it, he decides it’s not his business. “If you need anything, let me know, okay? Jiejie will have my head if I don’t make sure you’re both comfortable and happy here.”
They acknowledge him almost absently, like comfort and happiness isn’t something they've considered needing.
*
Lan Zhan is alone when Wei Wuxian comes to retrieve them, and nothing is out of place. There’s not even a single wrinkle in the bedding. “Xuanyu decided to go for a walk,” Lan Zhan says. “I hope that won’t be a problem. I’ll message him to come back.”
“Of course not,” Wei Wuxian replies. “You’re both free to do as you wish here.”
Lan Zhan thanks him absently, his attention elsewhere as he follows Wei Wuxian into the hallway. “Have you been well, Wei Ying?” he asks, the question well meant, but formulaic. “You look better, being home like this.”
“I’m well,” he answers, leading Lan Zhan only slowly through the hallways. He tells himself it’s to give Mo Xuanyu time to catch up, but he selfishly wants time with Lan Zhan all on his own. When he turns Lan Zhan over to the others, he won’t get another chance with him.
“Lotus Pier is lovely,” Lan Zhan says. His steps are slow, too. “We were pleased to receive your invitation. Mo Xuanyu is looking forward to seeing Jin Zixuan. They haven’t seen one another in years.”
“Ah, well. Lotus Pier should be full of people, you know? When it was just me and Jiang Cheng, it gave me the creeps. These big, old properties were meant to house so many people, you know? Big families.” Not like ours ended up being, he can’t help lamenting. Then again, how could he even begin to help with that, when what he wants doesn’t facilitate such grandiose dreams? In his most ideal dreams, he and Lan Zhan alone could never fill such spaces with life.
The corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth twitches once before smoothing out. Is it amusement he’s feeling? Wei Wuxian can’t tell. “If there’s anything I can do to help you while I’m here…”
“Aish. You’ve been here, what, five minutes? Don’t go self-flagellating for me. I’ve already extracted a promise to pick your brain about the company. You’re here to have a nice time. I’ll get to show you all my favorite spots. A lifelong dream is being realized, Lan Zhan. That’s how you can help.”
“We’ve been here for several hours.”
“Same difference. Five minutes, five hours, five years. Back when you bought my contract, I didn’t think it meant anything. What was six more months when everything already sucked so much? I thought you were wasting your time. I was wrong. You shouldn’t feel like you have to do more.”
“Wei—”
Wei Wuxian silences him with a raised hand. “But what you really bought was time with you and Mo Xuanyu and more time with my family.” It was never the crude first aid he’d let himself pretend it was. “You helped me avoid showing the worst of myself to my siblings. It mattered.” He’s never been good at apologizing or giving thanks, but. “Actually,” he says, tapping Lan Zhan’s chest, “you should feel the opposite.”
“What—”
“Between the two of us, let’s not think of what we’ve given and taken as too much or too little, hmm? Debts and ledgers can be for other people. I’ll be bothering you soon enough for professional advice. Right now, I just want you to enjoy your time here, okay?”
Before Wei Wuxian can pull his hand away, Lan Zhan grabs his wrist, squeezes it tightly. “Mo Xuanyu and I are separating.”
Wei Wuxian’s heart skips a beat; his mind becomes a blur of white noise, Lan Zhan’s words bouncing meaninglessly around his head, bumping against the questions suddenly crowding in there, too. They’re separating? How? Why? When? “Your room—”
“If it isn’t too much trouble, another room would be appreciated,” Lan Zhan says. “He was insisting he would take the floor.”
Wei Wuxian aches to imagine it, the full weight of Mo Xuanyu’s tenacity on display in light of such heartbreaking news.
“Okay,” Wei Wuxian says quietly. “Not a problem.” He pauses, brain still working through the implications. “When did you make this decision?” Wei Wuxian barely manages to keep his voice level.
“The most precise answer would be on the train. That is when we discussed it anyway,” Lan Zhan says. “A more correct one would be around when you left.” He glances away. “The actual truth would be the moment I saw you again.”
“Lan Zhan…”
“I know I haven’t handled this situation well and I have no expectations about what will happen next, but you deserve to know.”
A laugh escapes from Wei Wuxian’s throat, not quite bitter, perhaps self-deprecating, and maybe deprecating toward Lan Zhan, too. What a shambles they are. “I think the only one who’s carried himself off well in this is Mo Xuanyu.”
“Perhaps so,” Lan Zhan says, quiet.
“Is he okay?”
“I believe he will be,” Lan Zhan says. “He’s spent most of his time with Nie Mingjue in the weeks since you left. He intends to return to Nie Mingjue’s home once he’s spent time with Jin Zixuan.”
Imagining Lan Zhan staying alone in that complex of his, or going back to work with his brother, equally alone, opens an ache in his chest for Lan Zhan, for himself in a way, too, because he’s the one who understands, right? Who gets the many and varied downsides of loving the way they love.
Wei Wuxian resumes walking, turning Lan Zhan’s decision over in his mind, hoping it’ll make sense if only he finds the right angle. What he and Mo Xuanyu had together was good. Why would he not stick with it? Eventually, he looks back at Lan Zhan, only to find him already watching Wei Wuxian. “How do you feel about it?” Wei Wuxian asks.
Lan Zhan lowers his gaze, and his throat clicks as he swallows, working around the answer. “It’s a relief to have made the decision.” Though he looks like he wants to say something else, he refrains.
Wei Wuxian chooses not to badger him about it. Besides, he’s not sure he’s ready for whatever else Lan Zhan might want to say. Too many of his words have struck unintentional blows. It would be better to let it go.
When they reach the dining room, Mo Xuanyu is already there, chattering away with Jiang Yanli while he helps set the table. Jiang Cheng is supervising them with a sharp eye, too diffident to impose on Jiang Yanli’s vision. When he notices Wei Wuxian’s arrival, he rolls his eyes from his place behind their back. “We’re in trouble,” he mouths, pointing at the pair of them, their heads together as they gossip about Jin Zixuan and Jin Ling. “They’re basically best friends already.”
Mo Xuanyu favors Jiang Yanli with a bright smile, one he generously turns in Wei Wuxian’s direction, one that is almost, but not quite, right. In a similar situation, Wei Wuxian isn’t sure he’d be able to feign happiness for near strangers, though he might try anyway.
Wei Wuxian thinks he could learn something from him about finding joy wherever it can be unearthed. It’s a skill he’s forgotten. It’s humbling to see it so elegantly displayed.
*
In his memory, Wei Wuxian can’t remember a time when the dining room table had been so crammed with people. He imagines it must have been so before his parents passed away, but he doesn’t have a deep memory of those times. What he remembers best is second father and Jiang Yanli cooking together, but when it came time to eat, it was only the four of them spread all the way around, the serving tray spinning in the center of the table. He and Jiang Cheng would turn it just as the other reached for something until Jiang Yanli stopped them. Second mother never ate with them, preferring to keep her own company except when tradition required otherwise.
He might have imagined seven people to be the perfect number—he and his siblings, his parents, second mother and second father—but this is better. Wen Ning and Wen Qing sitting on either side of Jiang Cheng, Mo Xuanyu on Lan Zhan’s opposite side, playing with Jin Ling while Wei Wuxian sits between Lan Zhan and Wen Ning? It’s very nearly perfect.
While Wei Wuxian muses about how right it feels to have friends and family gathered this way, Lan Zhan calls his name and drops a few pieces of meat into his bowl of rice with quick, dexterous fingers. “You should eat.”
He smiles, because it feels nice to smile and he’d like Lan Zhan not to worry. Though Lan Zhan is more hesitant, he smiles, too, his version of a smile anyway which is so small as to be microscopic, but still infinitely precious to Wei Wuxian.
After dinner is cleared away and everything cleaned up, Mo Xuanyu and Jiang Cheng scuffle over who will be responsible for putting Jin Ling to bed when he starts listing and fussing. They put forth childishly impassioned arguments that Wei Wuxian ignores as he scoops Jin Ling into his arms from where he’s been deposited on the floor to play with Wen Ning’s gentle supervision and Wen Qing’s rather more intense version of the same. “Jiang Cheng got him at the train station. Mo Xuanyu got him at dinner. It’s my turn, don’t you think?”
“Sounds fair to me,” Jiang Yanli says, proving herself to be the best sister of all time. She patiently explains Jin Ling’s bedtime routine and cuts Wei Wuxian loose.
“Your uncles are dramatic people,” Wei Wuxian tells him seriously as he gives Jin Ling a bath in the cute little tub that’s kept for him in the guest bathroom near his room. “Don’t grow up to be like them.”
Jin Ling babbles in agreement.
Wei Wuxian doesn’t realize he’s being watched until he turns around to grab the little hooded robe he’s supposed to wrap Jin Ling in and startles at the sudden presence looming, half inside, half in the hallway. When he realizes the body standing in the doorway belongs to Lan Zhan, he immediately calms down until he looks at Lan Zhan’s face and feels worked up for an entirely different reason. “Lan Zhan, hi.”
“Wei Ying.”
As Wei Wuxian dries Jin Ling off, he says secretively, “You know, Lans are pretty dramatic, too. You should have seen how mad this guy used to get whenever I misbehaved.”
In his peripheral vision, Wei Wuxian sees the corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth quirk up. If he feels any need to defend his honor to a baby, he doesn’t succumb to the urge.
“Maybe he’s not that dramatic. Only sometimes,” Wei Wuxian offers magnanimously. “You here to supervise, Lan Zhan?”
“No.”
Wei Wuxian begins dressing Jin Ling in his pajamas. “Here to—”
“I simply wished to see you,” Lan Zhan says.
“You saw me at dinner and when you arrived. You’ll see me after I put Jin Ling to bed. What’s the rush?”
“There is no rush. Even so, I wanted to see you.”
A warm flush steals over Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. Flustered, he says, “Aha, Lan Zhan. Don’t sound so cheesy, huh?” Hitching Jin Ling onto his hip, he wags his finger in Lan Zhan’s face. “You just wanted to see me with a baby, didn’t you? Scoundrel.”
Another strange, gentle little expression crosses Lan Zhan’s face, too much for Wei Wuxian’s heart. Wei Wuxian can’t stare at it for too long without feeling nervous and shy, so he fusses with the collar of Jin Ling’s pajamas instead.
“Perhaps,” Lan Zhan says.
Pushing Lan Zhan into the hallway, he says, “Well, then, I’m deputizing you. I can’t be the only one doing any work around here, can I?”
This is, he might concede only within the confines of his mind, not the best decision he’s ever made if he wants to avoid being flustered. Because he’s unfortunately forced to watch Lan Zhan stoically read picture books to his nephew. Jin Ling is a little too young to care about the quality of Lan Zhan’s voice and demeanor, kicking his feet and making weird little noises to himself as Lan Zhan sits next to his crib, but Wei Wuxian is transfixed by Lan Zhan and how serious he can be when talking about Peppa Pig.
Though Jin Ling falls asleep quickly, Lan Zhan lingers for a time before putting the books away, catching Wei Wuxian looking at him. As soon as Lan Zhan catches him, he has to look away. His cheeks heat so fiercely that even the cool press of his fingertips to his cheeks isn’t enough to calm the flush. Anyone would be moved by such a sight, he tells himself. If Wei Wuxian is especially susceptible, it’s just because he’s so unused to being around children. It has nothing to do with Lan Zhan specifically.
“Is everything alright?” Lan Zhan asks.
“Clearly, you’re just a danger to society, caring for babies like that. Who allowed you?” He feels as though he’s been backed to the edge of a cliff, heels right up to the precipice. All he has to do is fall. He doesn’t let it happen, though he enjoys the dangerous swoop low in his gut. “Everything’s fine.”
As they leave Jin Ling’s bedroom, their arms brush. In such close proximity, the set of Lan Zhan’s shoulders take on a brittle quality. Wei Wuxian deliberately skims his knuckles across the back of Lan Zhan’s hand, scuffing his slippers right up to the sheer cliff face.
Being home has done such strange things to him. He backs away from his own boldness, or tries to.
When he puts scant centimeters of space between them, Lan Zhan is quick to clasp his hand around Wei Wuxian’s wrist in a vice-tight grip.
“I’ve denied you more often in this life than I have ever cared to,” Lan Zhan says, urgent for him, his voice low and intimate. “You should touch me if that is what you wish to do.”
“Lan Zhan…”
“No matter what it is,” he says, forceful. “However much or however little it might be.” His gaze pierces holes in Wei Wuxian’s chest. It’s the only explanation for why he suddenly cannot breath. “I will hold you to no other obligation beyond that you do what you wish when you wish to do it.”
Though Lan Zhan lets go of him, it doesn’t get any easier to breathe. Even when they’ve returned to the living room where the others have gathered, he feels off-balance, out of sorts. Tea, a bottle of baijiu, cups, and glasses are scattered around the coffee table. Mo Xuanyu has perched himself on the edge of the couch next to Jiang Yanli, leaving Lan Zhan no option but to sit in the only remaining chair. Wei Wuxian takes a pillow from the couch and tosses it onto the floor near Lan Zhan, but not close enough that it should mean more to the others than it means to himself.
Mo Xuanyu might guess, but no one else will understand the precise calculus of staying just far enough away for plausible deniabiity.
Lan Zhan, polite as he is, offers to pour drinks for everyone and thanks Wei Wuxian’s siblings for their hospitality.
After that, the evening passes with torturous slowness, but even so, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t trade it away for different circumstances.