Chapter Text
Business improved at the cafe with the warming of the weather, bringing more people back onto the streets, more willing to stop and explore the city. It was a welcome distraction to Wei Ying’s mornings and afternoons, a little bonus. The sunshine was nice, too—melting the ice, elevating this mood on his long walks home. Springtime was a nice little signal that Wei Ying had made it through the winter and he couldn’t help but to love every single part of coming out of the other side.
Wei Ying hadn’t realized just how badly he had missed his siblings.
“Jin Ling is almost two now,” Wei Ying informed Wen Ning for probably the hundredth time, as if talking about his family wasn’t his new favorite topic. “A-Jie sent me a bunch of new pictures yesterday. The kid looks too much like his peacock coward of a father, but oh well. What are you gonna do? He's got some of the best parts of A-Jie, though, so that makes up for it.”
Wen Ning hummed, amused. “Is that right?”
“She’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” Wei Ying informed him. “You may feel the same about your sister but I will have to inform you that you are incorrect. A-Jie is the best.”
Wen Ning rolled his eyes, focusing on his latte art rather than the very convincing eyebrows Wei Ying was centering on him. “Oh, of course.”
“Jiang Cheng is fine too,” Wei Ying added. “Not in, like, prettiness. He is actually the most ugly of the three of us. But he hasn’t threatened to kill me in a few days so he’s clearly in a good mood, at least.”
“I’m glad you’re getting along,” Wen Ning informed him as he handed off the latte to a middle-aged woman at the counter, who nodded in thanks. “I know it means a lot to you, to have them back.”
“I guess I didn’t realize how much I missed them.” Wei Ying grinned in apology. “You’re probably sick of hearing about it, huh?”
“Of course not, I’m happy for you,” Wen Ning replied instantly, almost insulted. “Even my sister agrees that you’ve been in a much better mood as of late.”
“Yup,” he replied instead of thinking of all of the reasons why he shouldn’t be as happy as he is, burying it all very deep. Repression was a decent strategy, after all. “Did I tell you I might need to ask for some time off, by the way? My sister wants to visit, but she has to wait since my brother wants to come, too.”
“You know I don’t mind.” Wen Ning leaned against the counter, eyeing him curiously. “As long as you're happy.”
Wei Ying grinned at him. “Of course I am!”
But Wen Ning clearly knew him well, perhaps even too well. Wei Ying was objectively happier, obviously. He had something new to look forward to, could look forward to reconnecting with his siblings when days felt a little too hard and he found himself a little lost in his thoughts.
He had his siblings back, so he shouldn’t feel lonely anymore. Except that he does, intensely so, as if something was missing. He spent a lot of his time alone trying to pretend like he didn’t know exactly who he was missing, who he saw out of the corner of his eye when he wasn’t there and who he dreamed about, just out of reach.
He still went home to an empty apartment, even though he had the phone calls to fill the silence. He had pictures to put on his empty walls. But it didn’t change the facts that he missed him with a phenomenal ache, an unexpected emptiness.
It was easier to pretend he didn’t, though, since there was so much more to talk about. It was easy to distract himself and others, in favor of talking about all of the things he had gained. He had learned to live with it, as well as he ever thought he would.
Wen Ning cast a doubtful look as if he could read his mind. Wei Ying pretended not to notice, straightening up the stack of to-go lids.
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “Really. I promise.”
Wen Ning stared him down for a long moment, unconvinced. Thankfully, the ring of the bell over the entrance sang, signalling a new customer. Wei Ying sent Wen Ning a grin, knowing he had just dodged a bullet; Wen Ning, though, was staring at the new customer, eyebrows rising. His eyes glanced away, back to Wei Ying, and he looked like he might start laughing.
“You’ve got this one,” Wen Ning announced and, without another word, he turned and walked into the back room.
Wei Ying stared at the swinging door before rolling his eyes. He turned around to face the counter, smile already in place as he greeted, “Hello, welcome to—”
And then he realized who he was talking to. His breath knocked out of him like he’d been punched in the stomach.
Lan Zhan stared at him across the counter as if he might disappear, as if he was little more than a mirage—like sunshine after a long, harsh winter. The shadows under his eyes were a little darker, the only clear change to a man who seemed as immovable as stone, but Wei Ying knew better. Lan Zhan must have come here on purpose but he was looking at Wei Ying with complete surprise. Like he was everything he had ever wanted.
Wei Ying realized he wasn’t breathing. He tried to gasp for just a hint of it, anything to keep his head from spinning out of control, anything to control the pounding of his heart.
He took a step forward. Another. His chest was on fire but he couldn’t help but to bite back a smile.
He reached the counter in three and a half steps. He leaned forward into it, watching the way Lan Zhan’s eyes followed his every move—letting himself wonder if it hadn’t all been in his mind after all, if there really was hope.
“Hi,” he murmured again, feeling his lips trying to twitch into a smile. “Are you here for a coffee?”
Slowly, Lan Zhan shook his head.
Wei Ying couldn’t help but tease him, his heart racing. “Hmm,” he replied, tilting his head. “Strange, as this is a cafe. Unless it’s for a pastry, tea? Perhaps a bagel?”
Again, Lan Zhan shook his head. Lan Zhan had once seemed so unreadable but Wei Ying had learned how to understand him at some point along the way. He read the humor in the corners of his eyes, the hope in the twist of his mouth. Lan Zhan looked at him like he would never look away and Wei Ying burned with it.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Wei Ying said, still playing the game, but this time his voice was hoarse. “That would mean you’re here for me, then.”
“Wei Ying,” he finally said—amused, wondrous. He leaned slightly closer to the counter. As if Wei Ying was the center of gravity, pulling him closer.
“Lan Zhan,” he echoed because that was all that was left; Wei Ying was fairly sure his brain was leaking out of his ears, even more useless than it had ever been.
For a moment, Lan Zhan hesitated. And then he reached for him, catching one of Wei Ying’s hands, and Wei Ying—melted.
“I—” Lan Zhan began, and then stopped. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath as if to center himself; Wei Ying was distracted, just for a moment, in the fine fan of Lan Zhan’s eyelashes against his cheeks, and wanted very suddenly to reach out and touch them.
It was magic. It was like a movie, with great swelling music and a sigh of relief. It felt almost unreal but a part of him, the part that still fantasized even though he knew he shouldn’t dare, had imagined something like this. A part of him had hoped Lan Zhan would come through that door one day, even though it had only been a fantasy, and Wei Ying had learned to stop believing in those.
But Lan Zhan had always been something out of his wildest dreams. He should have known that, out of everyone, it would be this man who would make all of his dreams come true.
His hand was big, warm. There were calluses on his fingers, rough from his musical training—Wei Ying imagined those calluses on his bare skin and shivered.
Very softly, Wei Ying prompted, “You?”
Lan Zhan never looked away from him, not once. He squeezed his hand, eyes softening at the corners as if he might smile.
Lan Zhan murmured, in the whir of the cappuccino machine, as sweet as the pastries in the glass cases, “You make me happy.”
And Wei Ying was smiling, big and goofy, his heart flipping in his chest. It was subtle but it could only ever mean one thing—Lan Zhan was so good at that, at saying what meant the most without saying too much. He knew exactly what to say to get Wei Ying to fall because Wei Ying already had, barely needing the extra push to want something great and big and terrifying and forever with this man.
It was selfish. It was probably the most selfish thing Wei Ying had ever wanted.
He didn’t hesitate.
Wei Ying ripped his hand away from Lan Zhan’s only so he could launch himself over the counter, giving the man no warning before he barrelled right into him. Lan Zhan, always so clever, seemed to know to catch him anyway, their chests connecting at the same moment his arms came up behind Wei Ying, hauling him the rest of the way, bringing him closer.
And then they were kissing—a little messy, a lot desperate, interrupted by Wei Ying’s smile and laughter because he couldn’t believe his luck. He clung to Lan Zhan and he held him just as tightly, hands curled around Wei Ying’s hip bones. Wei Ying tangled his hands in Lan Zhan’s hair, let his teeth catch his bottom lip lightly and grinned at the breathless noise Lan Zhan made in response.
It was everything that Wei Ying had thought he couldn’t have. It was happiness in a way he had never known before, and never wanted to know if it was not with him.
Lan Zhan kissed him like a dying man, like it was the answer to every prayer he’d ever made. And Wei Ying loved him—simply, selfishly, spectacularly.
They pulled away only to touch their foreheads together, breathing in the same space. Lan Zhan nudged their noses together sweetly; Wei Ying could feel this man smile, could taste it soft and lovely against his lips.
And then he heard the round of applause.
They both turned, surprised, and found the entire Lan family looking in through the front window of the cafe, cheering loud enough to draw the attention of even the passerby on the other side of the street. Lan Jingyi appeared to be sobbing uncontrollably onto an incredibly amused Nie Huaisang’s shoulder; just behind them stood Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue, leaning together and grinning in amusement even as they clapped the loudest, a knowing and happy smile on Lan Xichen’s face. Lan Qiren was the only one who wasn’t cheering, simply looking anywhere but at them, and Lan Sizhui was smiling like it was about damn time.
There was another cheer from behind them. Without looking around, Wei Ying knew it could only ever be Wen Ning.
Slowly, Wei Ying turned to look at Lan Zhan, who looked rather exhausted and put out by the whole affair.
“They’re non-negotiable,” Lan Zhan deadpanned, resigned. Wei Ying buried his head in his shoulder, laughing so loud it still echoed off of the wall. Lan Zhan’s arms around him tightened, just a little bit.
Wei Ying pulled away only far enough to take Lan Zhan’s head in his hands. He looked into sweet golden eyes, bright with the smile lingering on his lips, and he felt fireworks in his belly. Felt his heart shape into something permanent—something Lan Zhan-shaped.
“I love you,” Wei Ying whispered. He pressed a kiss to Lan Zhan’s nose, his eyelids, the middle of his forehead. Lan Zhan’s hands tightened on his waist, and Wei Ying’s voice was low and just for the two of them when he promised, “It could have never been anyone but you.”
And, because it was a perfect happily after, Lan Zhan whispered that he loved him back and kissed him like he meant it. Because he meant it.
Perhaps it wasn’t the end of everything, but instead the beginning. Wei Ying still had to find out what Lan Zhan knew, needed to know if they were on the same page. He needed to call his siblings as soon as possible, needed to make sure that on their visit they were able to meet the love of his life, too; he had no doubt there would be far too many Lan family dinners along the way, as well.
There were plenty of years to live through, plenty of adventures to have, but he had no doubt Lan Zhan would be there for every step of the way. His lovely, happy little forever.
And when Lan Xichen, a teasing smile on his face, inevitably asked when along the line Wei Ying fell in love with his little brother, Wei Ying knew exactly what he would say: It was while you were sleeping.