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Lan Zhan was warmer than usual, Wei Wuxian noticed as he kissed his boyfriend in the February cold. He didn’t mind the unusual heat, though, not after hours spent on the over-air conditioned MetroNorth train car (it was February; why they felt the need to cool the train was beyond him). Not after weeks of being apart, texting and calling and making promises and plans. They finally had a weekend together, their first Valentine’s Day since they’d started dating--and also since Lan Zhan did the horribly inconsiderate thing of graduating and moving away to New York City to study for a Master’s degree in sacred music.
It had been a few weeks since they’d last seen each other, and Wei Wuxian was determined to make up for it.
“Lan Zhannn, I missed you,” cried Wei Wuxian as he buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I have chocolate. And plans. And maybe also porn.”
“Shameless,” murmured Lan Zhan into his ear.
“You’ll like it. I’m sure of it. I’m bringing the porn to you--it’s live action. It’s got me in it.”
Lan Zhan hugged Wei Wuxian tighter, giving a tiny huff of laughter--what would be explosive from anyone else.
“I too have chocolate and plans,” Lan Zhan serenely answered, while guiding his clingy boyfriend through the door of his dormitory building. “We have tickets for a concert tomorrow night.”
Wei Wuxian chattered happily into Lan Zhan’s ear as they made their way up to his apartment, eager to unload the latest gossip from the undergraduate orchestra where they’d met. Gradually, though, he noticed something was… off. Lan Zhan’s usually soothing, rumbling voice was just a little bit flat, his graceful movements a little more clumsy. He considered this as they exited the elevator on the fourth floor and headed down the hallway.
“Lan Zhan. Are you okay? And don’t lie to me because you want us to have a nice time and you missed me. I know you’re thinking about it.”
Instead of replying, Lan Zhan pressed a kiss to Wei Wuxian’s mouth, silencing him for a moment, and turned to open the door to his impeccably organized studio apartment. Wei Wuxian paused for a minute to greet Lan Zhan’s beloved rabbits Sizhui and Jingyi in their rabbit condo, Jingyi dashing excitedly and tumbling over himself in excitement while Sizhui patiently waited his turn for pats. As soon as Wei Wuxian finished with the rabbits and Lan Zhan had tucked Wei Wuxian’s bag in its assigned spot at the foot of the bed, Lan Zhan grabbed Wei Wuxian and pressed him against the wall.
“I will not be kissed into submission,” Wei Wuxian grumbled while being kissed into submission. “Something’s wrong. You’re also very warm. I mean, you’re usually warm, and nice, and you’re soft and feel so good but wait. No. You’re hot. Not just sexy hot, but also the call-a-doctor kind of hot. Lan Zhan, I demand you tell me what’s wrong.”
They finally pulled apart, Wei Wuxian pushing Lan Zhan to arm’s length and holding him there, trying to look like a threatening interrogator and just looking worried instead.
“It’s nothing. A low-grade fever. I feel fine,” Lan Zhan finally said.
“Mn,” Wei Wuxian hummed skeptically.
“There will be no changes to our plans.”
“Why does the ‘mn’ trick work so much better when you do it?”
“Mn,” said Lan Zhan in reply, the tiniest hint of a smile quirking his lips.
That was all it took for Wei Wuxian to forget his concern, at least for the moment, and tug Lan Zhan the three steps to his bed.
***
The next day, Wei Wuxian woke up before Lan Zhan, something that had only happened once before when he thought it would be interesting to see what a double shot of vodka would do to his lightweight friend at a pop orchestra rager. Wei Wuxian had helped him put the stop sign back the next day, but neither of them ever figured out where he’d found the pair of paving bricks. Wei Wuxian still had them under his bed.
Wei Wuxian and his boyfriend had wrapped around each other very thoroughly in their sleep, so it took Wei Wuxian a few careful minutes to untangle himself from the unholy mess of long limbs. Alarmingly, Lan Zhan barely stirred, even when Wei Wuxian tucked him back in to go turn the kettle on for tea. He gently touched Lan Zhan’s forehead, which was clammy from fever.
“Never mind,” Wei Wuxian murmured, smoothing Lan Zhan’s hair away from his sticky forehead, “I’ll have breakfast ready when you wake up, sleepyhead.” He rummaged uncertainly around the kitchen for ingredients, wary of disturbing Lan Zhan’s arcane organizational system.
The smell of something burning finally roused Lan Zhan into consciousness as Wei Wuxian’s string of curses increased in volume and creativity.
“Fuck I thought pancakes were supposed to be easy; they’re like cake and toast had a baby and how hard could it be to--shit fuck why is it turning black--Happy Valentine’s Day, this is totally under control and absolutely part of the plan!” The rabbits twitched their noses in concern from their enclosure in one corner of the room.
Lan Zhan frowned, gradually propping himself up on one arm. “I have not bought eggs this week. I thought I did not have any left.”
“I mean, you didn’t. So I thought I could improvise! I even googled vegan pancakes for inspiration!”
Lan Zhan slowly dragged himself out of bed to help rescue his one nice pan and dispose of the burning crime against breakfast about to set off the smoke alarm.
After putting out what was about to be a literal fire and pouring a cup of tea, Lan Zhan’s face took on the subtle, focused expression that meant he had a Plan. He had probably spent a month researching places that Wei Wuxian might like and where Lan Zhan would be able to stand the crowds, Wei Wuxian mused.
“For this morning’s activity I acquired tickets for the Natural History Museum. I think you will find it stimulating there.”
Ah, Wei Wuxian’s first opportunity of the morning for a sex joke. What a thoughtful present from his boyfriend--maybe Lan Zhan was feeling better? “Stimulating, hmm? Why Lan Zhan, I didn’t think you supported my wildest fantasies about fucking in public.”
“Shameless.” Lan Zhan raised his hand for a playful smack but missed completely, harmlessly swiping the air.
“Ah, Lan Zhan are you trying to miss me on purpose? Do you want to have sex at the museum? Because I’m sure we can find a corner behind an exhibit case full of old swords and take out our own…” he trailed off as he noticed Lan Zhan staring at his tea, the mug subtly shaking in his hands. Nope. Definitely not feeling better.
Wei Wuxian quietly took the tea from his boyfriend and brought it over to the radiator that passed for a bedside table. He promptly returned to bundle his boyfriend right back into bed, his clumsiness and the shaking enough to trigger all his Lan Zhan protection protocols.
To try to keep Lan Zhan from being worried that he was worried, he started up his usual stream of chatter. “What was that documentary you were texting me about the other day that I told you I would actually do homework rather than watch? Something about mushrooms, right? Fantastic Fungi? Let’s watch it. I’ll watch it with you right now, let me get my laptop out--you are staying in bed.”
“But…you would be bored,” Lan Wanji weakly protested. “You hate being bored.”
“Never, Zhanzhan, not when I’m with you. If I get bored by the documentary, I can just turn over and stare at your beautiful face. Now hush and move over while I bring you rabbits.”
“Mn,” mumbled Lan Zhan. Wei Wuxian shifted the flexible rabbit pen to border the bed, then swept Sizhui and Jingyi onto Lan Zhan’s lap. Sizhui settled down instantly, cuddling into Lan Zhan’s slow uneven pats. Wei Wuxian cuddled himself on Lan Zhan’s left while Jingyi explored the bed. Within five minutes, Lan Zhan was passed out again, drooling slightly on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder and giving off even more heat than the apartment’s uncontrollable radiator on his other side. Wei Wuxian absentmindedly stroked the sweaty strands of hair behind Lan Zhan’s ear while watching time-lapse videos of mushrooms and trying not to panic.
Wei Wuxian spent most of the afternoon trying to convince Lan Zhan alternately to sleep, to drink a sip of water, to take some Tylenol, or to relax when the anxiety at his carefully laid, hour-by-hour plans being ruined jolted him back into consciousness. With some experimentation, Wei Wuxian found that placing a rabbit in his lap or on his chest was the most effective way to pin Lan Zhan down. He probably had the flu, Wei Wuxian thought to himself while flipping through WebMD and stress-eating Lan Zhan’s chocolates. Probably. Mystery fever in February, right? Some liquids, some rest, and Lan Zhan should be better soon.
Lan Zhan was not better soon.
At precisely 5 pm, Wei Wuxian went to make Lan Zhan yet another cup of tea. The blankets began to rustle behind him. When he turned, Wei Wuxian nearly dropped the mug he’d just poured boiling water into. Lan Zhan was standing directly behind him, trying to put his coat and shoes on at the same time while staring at him with fever-bright eyes.
“It’s time for dinner. I found a ramen restaurant.”
Lan Zhan turned towards the door, looking over his shoulder with a confused expression at Wei Wuxian when he didn’t immediately follow. Wei Wuxian stared back at him in stunned silence, momentarily overcome while his brain attempted to process the outfit his usually immaculately clad boyfriend had cobbled together.
“Lan Zhan , take your coat off and get back into bed this instant! You are absolutely not leaving this apartment. You’re wearing pants over your pajamas and you’ve got on one winter boot and one sneaker and they’re on the wrong feet.”
“Wei Ying needs to eat before the concert, or he will be hungry and whisper in my ear the whole second half about snacks.”
“Well, Lan Zhan needs to get in the bed. Because you are not okay. Something is very wrong, and sure, maybe some nice ramen broth will help you feel a little more human, but you are not leaving this apartment and we are not doing anything tonight that’s not about taking care of you. So shut up and get in bed.” Wei Wuxian tenderly removed the eclectic collection of outerwear Lan Zhan has managed to find while trying to keep the concern out of his voice. He’s never seen Lan Zhan like this. He’s never seen Lan Zhan accept help, either--always trying to take care of others instead of himself.
“I’ll go get us some ramen and I’ll be right back. It’s only a few blocks away, right? Jin Ramen? I think I saw it when I got off the subway. Terrible name, but I trust you that it’s good. You’re not allowed to move until I get back, do you hear me Lan Zhan? I swear to God if you’re not in that bed when I get back there will be consequences.”
***
Wei Wuxian hurried back to the apartment as quickly as he could. “I’m baaack,” he sang, stepping through the door. He frowned when he couldn’t immediately see Lan Zhan. In the airy and minimalist apartment, there weren’t many places to hide. The bathroom door was open, though, so he stepped through.
“Oh no,” he breathed, his heart dropping. “Oh no no no no no.”
Lan Zhan was slumped naked next to the tub, one hand dipped in the water. His eyes gazed half-focused into space. Wei Wuxian dropped in front of him, ramen forgotten.
“’S fine,” Lan Zhan murmured. “I wanted to get in the water, but I thought I would pass out. So I didn’t.”
“Nope, nope, not fine, first rule of Valentine’s Day is no dying, and you’re clearly trying to break it,” Wei Wuxian told him, feeling Lan Zhan’s fiery forehead. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”
Wei Wuxian expected a protest, but Lan Zhan just nodded weakly instead. “Tell my uncle?” He fumbled with his smartphone, opened the messages app, and brought up Lan Qiren.
Fuck. Wei Wuxian had heard a lot about Lan Qiren. He and the rest of the orchestra had heard so much about him, in fact, that they had a secret Google Doc called The 3000 Rules of Lan Qiren, accumulated from everything Lan Zhan had casually mentioned he wasn’t allowed to do. No staying up late, no video games, no books with magic, and definitely no dating boys. Lan Xichen had been the first one to toss that rule out the window, but Lan Qiren apparently hadn’t been happy to learn he’d raised exactly zero straight kids. Wei Wuxian still hadn’t met the man, though he had thought about it plenty of times. Sometimes he’d imagined himself on his best behavior, dressed in a suit and ready to impress. Other times he’d imagined himself throwing a paper airplane with “He’s mine and you can die mad about it” written on the inside through the Lan mansion’s fancy windows. He’d never imagined the conversation starting this way.
Wei Wuxian took a deep breath and pressed the dial button before he could freak himself out more.
“Wangji, it is good to hear from you. Are you well?” said the voice on the other end, its pronunciation precise and dignified.
“Um, this isn’t Wangji, sir,” Wei Wuxian squeaked, cursing his traitor vocal cords. “This is, um, Wei Wuxian? You may have heard of me?”
“I have heard of you,” he said, suddenly frosty. “Why do you have my nephew’s phone?”
“Well, he’s sick. Very sick with some kind of fever, and I’m taking him to the hospital. St. Luke’s hospital, here in New York? And he wanted me to tell you.”
There was silence on the other end. “I will meet you there. I am an hour away. Please contact me if the doctors need any information on Wangji’s medical history.”
“Okay. Um. Got it! Yep, I think I know most of it, but I’ll let you know if I don’t! And I’ll, um, send you a text so we don’t have to use Lan Zh- Lan Wanji’s phone.”
“Good. Keep me updated on his condition and treatment.”
The phone clicked off, and Wei Wuxian took a deep breath.
“Okay. Terrifying uncle is informed. Now, Lan Zhan, let’s get you back into some clothes and out the door, hmm?”
Dressing an almost boneless Lan Zhan and helping him down the stairs reminded Wei Wuxian of the Great Vodka Incident. Aside from the occasional mumbled response, he was mostly lost in a fevered silence as Wei Wuxian poured him into a taxi cab. Wei Wuxian tersely told the taxi driver where to go, his panic rising as Lan Zhan quietly melted into his side. He fumbled off a few texts to Lan Xichen explaining the situation. And yep, Lan Xichen confirmed: he’d never brought home a boyfriend either, so no advice from that quarter. Wei Wuxian was disappointed; Lan Xichen’s boyfriend Jin Guangyao definitely would have figured out some effective uncle management tricks.
Wei Wuxian flipped the phone closed and focused on helping Lan Zhan out of the cab. The ER waiting room was mercifully empty when they got there. Wei Wuxian fumbled through Lan Zhan’s wallet to get out his insurance card and stumbled through his list of symptoms with the intake nurse. Lan Zhan himself sat limply in one of the emergency room chairs, staring at nothing.
“And your relationship is…?” the nurse asked.
“Ah. Boyfriend.” Wei Wuxian explained. He tensed, ready to fight if anyone was going to try to keep him from staying with Lan Zhan.
“No problem,” the nurse said. “Someone will bring you two back in a minute.”
Soon, they were led into an examination room. Then someone brought a hospital gown for Lan Zhan to wear, and Wei Wuxian helped his boyfriend with the least sexy undressing he’d ever been a part of. Once he was in the blue hospital gown, Wei Wuxian helped him lie back down, then held his boyfriend’s hand.
“Just rest, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian told him. His hand was so warm. Too warm. Wei Wuxian quietly cursed himself for not dragging Lan Zhan to the doctor the day before.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan breathed, and then rested, eyes fluttering closed.
When the nurse came in to take Lan Zhan’s vitals, Wei Wuxian tried to let go of Lan Zhan’s hand to give the nurse easier access. The instant they split apart, Lan Zhan whimpered, his hand grasping. “Wei Ying,” he mumbled, flushed and upset. Wei Wuxian immediately grabbed his hand again.
“I’m here, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian reassured his boyfriend, his heart breaking a little as he squeezed back. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan breathed quietly, a bit more relaxed. Wei Wuxian left his hand in Lan Zhan’s.
The nurse smiled. “I can work around it,” he reassured Wei Wuxian. “You just keep him calm.” Wei Wuxian nodded, glad to have some job he could do.
The quiet noises of a hospital at night and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights were punctuated by small, sad sounds from Lan Zhan and a parade of medical professionals: someone threaded an IV into Lan Wangi’s arm, someone gave Lan Zhan meds, someone drew his blood, someone asked again about Lan Zhan’s symptoms. Through it all, Lan Zhan was slack and unresponsive, all of him limp except his hand. He’d threaded his fingers through Wei Wuxian’s and held on tightly, fingers wrapped like a strangling vine. At some point, Wei Wuxian noticed his other hand’s fingers were also uncomfortable, and he glanced to his right. Thinly stretched plastic bag handles were digging into his flesh.
He’d brought the ramen? Really? He had no recollection of how he’d managed that, but his stomach grumbled at him loudly. Well, fine, his stomach could win this one.
Unpacking the cold ramen one-handed without spilling it on his lap was a herculean task. Just as he got the noodles dumped into the broth and was ready to stuff them into his mouth, another nurse came through the door.
“Your nephew’s room is this one, sir. Go right in.”
She bustled away and Lan Qiren swept into the room. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared at Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan with a look that somehow managed to combine concern for one and malice for the other.
“Wei Wuxian,” he said with all the cold formality of a duelist. A jolt of fear shot through Wei Wuxian: if this man wanted to kick Wei Wuxian out of the hospital room, he could, and then Lan Zhan would be alone with just the medical staff and this cold man.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lan,” Wei Wuxian lied. Lan Qiren gave an unconvinced Mn. It cut straight through Wei Wuxian. So this was the master at whose feet Baby Lan Zhan had learned his Mn.
The severe older man paused for a moment, looking as though he was considering his next move. His eyes flicked to where Lan Zhan’s hand gripped Wei Wuxian’s, and then deliberately away, looking over his nephew. At last, “What have the doctors learned so far?” asked. He walked over to the bed, placing his hand on Lan Zhan’s forehead. Lan Zhan mumbled and moved slightly. Wei Wuxian stumbled over his own words explaining, and Lan Qiren nodded, retreating across the room to the chair reserved for the doctor. Silence fell, punctuated only by Lan Zhan’s occasional small whimpers. At least for now, it looked like he was letting Wei Wuxian stay.
The meat floating in Wei Wuxian’s ramen had congealed into odd lumps. Picking around the equally sad wilted vegetables, Wei Wuxian tried valiantly to slurp the noodles with the chopsticks in his off hand while Lan Zhan maintained a death grip on the other. He’d never thought he’d need to know how to eat ramen left handed, but then again, he never thought he would be spending Valentine’s Day in the ER with Lan Zhan nearly catatonic with fever and Lan Zhan’s uncle, who he’d never met before, glaring at him in stony silence from the other side of the room.
The noodles slid out of his chopsticks again, splashing back into the plastic take out bowl of broth shakily balanced on his knees. Lan Qiren shot a look in Wei Wuxian’s direction, a small sound of displeasure escaping his lips. Great, Wei Wuxian thought, he thinks I’m a disgrace to my culture and that I can’t use chopsticks correctly. Excellent first impression material here.
From the gurney, Lan Zhan made a strangled noise of dismay as Wei Wuxian tried to steal back his right hand to adjust the bowl. Spilling the broth all over the floor would definitely not help Lan Qiren’s impression of him. As soon as his hand was back within reach, Lan Zhan grabbed it again and clung even more tightly. “Wei Ying,” he murmured, the only thing he’d said in the past hour. Wei Wuxian fumbled again with the noodles, but managed to get some of them into his mouth with a slurp that echoed far too loudly around the hospital room.
***
At precisely 7:45 pm, Lan Zhan’s intermittent whimpers of “Wei Ying” abruptly became more urgent. Lan Zhan struggled in his bed, trying to pull himself upright. His eyes were glazed with panic and fever.
“Wei Ying, it’s almost 8. We’re going to miss it! We’re going to miss the musical!”
Wei Wuxian wrapped an arm around Lan Zhan, trying to soothe him as he struggled upright. “Lan Zhan, we’ve been over this, it’s fine, we’ll go see another concert another day--”
“You wanted to see Hamilton. I was going to surprise you. Make you smile. We need to go!”
Wei Wuxian blinked. “You got us the hottest tickets in Manhattan just because I told you I liked the album? Really?” Lan Zhan nodded slowly. A slow affectionate grin broke across Wei Wuxian’s face. Lan Zhan gave a half-coherent, pleased look back.
“I still get a smile,” he said smugly.
“Always,” Wei Wuxian said, squeezing Lan Zhan’s hand and not looking towards Lan Qiren.
A nurse popped in again. “Oh, he’s up! We need a urine sample, and he could probably use the restroom at this point anyway. I can help him to the restroom, or one of you could do it?”
“No problem, I’ll help!” Wei Wuxian said brightly. “No worries about his honor, it’s nothing I haven’t seen bef-”
“Harrumph!”
“Erm. I mean. I’ve got it, good boyfriend 101 right here.”
As Wei Wuxian and a nurse levered Lan Zhan into something approximating a sitting position, the loosely tied hospital gown slipped off Lan Zhan’s shoulder and the edges of the rabbit tattoo sprawled across Lan Zhan’s shoulders peeked out from the gap in the gown.
Ah fuck, Wei Wuxian remembered, draping an arm across Lan Zhan’s shoulder and slapping it awkwardly across the rabbit. Rule 247: no tattoos.
Wei Wuxian glanced up anxiously, checking to see if Lan Qiren had noticed. The man was turning an interesting shade of red, and he let out a strangled noise. Lan Qiren looked like he was about to have a heart attack. His face was flushed and his eyes narrowed on the spot where--oh no. A couple of inked rabbit ears still peeked out above Wei Wuxian’s hand. Lan Qiren’s eyebrows quivered.
“Aaand up you go, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian said with false brightness. “Just a few steps down the hall!” He propelled Lan Zhan rapidly past his uncle and into the bathroom, swinging the door shut behind him.
He had about three minutes to plan, but his brain was mostly dedicated to making sure Lan Zhan did not collapse in a bathroom for the second time that day. Then, a stroke of brilliance.
Best da-ge, I need help with uncle management, he texted Lan Xichen. He saw the tattoo and now we’re hiding in the bathroom. Could you call him? And maybe calm him down, before he freaks Lan Zhan out?
Glad I can do something, Lan Xichen quickly replied. Give me 30 seconds.
Wei Wuxian took a good minute to let Lan Zhan fumble through washing his hands. (It didn’t seem terribly important to Wei Wuxian right now, but Lan Zhan muttered something about hospitals and superbugs and the happy birthday song, and arguing seemed harder.) He then stepped back into the hallway, where Lan Qiren was pacing with the phone to his year.
“The artistic merits are hardly the point,” Wei Wuxian heard him hiss into the phone, “That boy is corrupting him into--”
Then Lan Qiren noticed him and glared, phone still to his ear. Wei Wuxian shot Lan Qiren his most pleading look. Lans were good at communicating with just their eyes, right? So Wei Wuxian poured please let this conversation wait until Lan Zhan’s well enough to stand on his own into his expression. Lan Qiren’s face didn’t change, but he still let Wei Wuxian and Lan Zhan hobble past him. “Uncle,” Lan Zhan mumbled in passing. “Quiet in hallways.” Wei Wuxian had to choke back a hysterical laugh as he helped Lan Zhan back into the bed without getting tangled in the IV lines. Energy exhausted, Lan Zhan’s eyes flickered shut. His fevered hand was once again wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s.
Wei Wuxian let his own eyes close for a second. Corrupting him. It wasn’t the first time those words had been flung at him--that honor would go to Aunt Yu--but Wei Wuxian still felt sick and angry. Wei Wuxian hadn’t expected Lan Qiren to like him, a flaming bi boy with a bright red streak dyed in his long hair and a set of black skinny jeans so tight they looked painted on. (At least he might approve of Wei Wuxian’s grey cashmere sweater, since he’d stolen that from Lan Zhan.) But corruption echoed in his ears, hitting the part of Wei Wuxian that worried he was ruining Lan Zhan like a broken pen cracked over a painting.
A machine beeped, and Wei Wuxian remembered, again, how vulnerable and weak Lan Zhan felt next to him right now. It wasn’t the time for this fight. Wei Wuxian picked out a stupid phone game and pushed down his feelings.
Lan Qiren stepped back in again a few minutes later, his face carefully bland. “The doctors have, at last, ruled out influenza,” he stated as though reading from a scroll. “The most likely culprit is some type of infection, though they will need to run a further test to check. I have urged them to expedite it as much as possible.”
Wei Wuxian had never been so grateful for a subject change--and a truce--since the first time Jiejie had asked him about his “real feelings” about Lan Zhan. He took it, and they talked about Lan Zhan’s case for a minute or two before falling back into silence.
***
They’d been in the ER for hours. Nurses had checked in a few times, and the doctor occasionally poked his head in as well. (Typically after Lan Qiren stepped out into the hall and had a few quiet but firm Words with someone. Wei Wuxian had to respect the man for that, at least.) Wei Wuxian was trying to suppress the panic and fear bubbling up in his chest. When Lan Zhan had been ill in college, he would just disappear for a few days without telling anyone, only reemerging when he was back on his feet. Wei Wuxian had never seen him like this, wrapped in a hospital gown and weak. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, strands dangling in his face. Now that the ramen was no longer tying down his right hand, Wei Wuxian turned and let his free hand drift up to Lan Zhan’s face, gently moving the sweaty strands aside. Lan Zhan whimpered and moved into Wei Wuxian’s hand, murmuring again, “Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian smiled softly down at him, hiding his fear out of sight. “We’ll be okay, Zhanzhan. The doctors will figure this out and you’ll be okay.”
Lan Zhan made a soft sound, possibly of agreement, and drifted back off into his fevered haze. Wei Wuxian slowly drew his hand back and looked around, and oh, fuck, right, Lan Qiren was still right there. Wei Wuxian was ready to scramble and apologize, but there was a flash of some different, softer emotion in Lan Qiren’s eyes. Then the flash was gone, and Lan Qiren gave a small cough and let his gaze wander away as though biohazard disposal protocol posters were the most interesting thing in the world.
A doctor finally stepped briskly through the door, talking as soon as he crossed the threshold. Wei Wuxian bolted upright, and Lan Qiren’s eyes sharpened. “I’ve run through Mr. Lan’s test results and it seems like he has a severe kidney infection. Usually the patient complains of urinary tract infection symptoms before the infection progresses to the kidneys, but sometimes the primary infection is asymptomatic. Has Mr. Lan complained of any UTI symptoms? Difficulty urinating, pain, burning, anything like that?”
Well, that sure was a clinical way to talk about his boyfriend’s dick. “No,” Wei Wuxian stammered, blushing a little, “he hasn’t mentioned anything like that. He seemed perfectly comfortable having--er, having a normal evening and doing normal evening things yesterday. Like...peeing.”
“How about lower back pain?” the doctor queried.
He definitely hadn’t shown any signs of back pain in bed last night, even if he’d been a touch less energetic than usual. “Um, nope, I think he was fine. As far as I could tell, that is, but getting him to even admit he had a fever was a stretch.”
“I’m glad you got him in here when you did. Left untreated another few hours, this infection could have resulted in permanent damage to his kidneys,” the doctor continued, too busy to notice the extra layer of horror that appeared on Wei Wuxian’s face. “We’re going to start him on some heavy antibiotics that should cover whatever is causing the infection, but we’re culturing his urine sample to make sure we’ve got meds on board that will target it precisely. Make sure he takes all of them, even if he feels better. The world doesn't need another strain of antibiotic-resistant bacteria. He should be stable enough to leave the hospital in the next couple hours, but he’ll likely need several days of bed rest and a week or two of reduced activities to fully recover. Don’t let him push it.”
“But he’ll be okay?” Wei Wuxian blurted. Lan Qiren shot him an almost grateful look.
“He’ll be fine,” the doctor reassured him. “These infections are dangerous if untreated, but they typically respond very well to medication.”
Wei Wuxian slumped in his chair with relief, the sick panic finally fading from his chest. His Lan Zhan would be back soon--his steady, strong, funny, thoughtful Lan Zhan with the chocolate and plans. He gave his boyfriend’s hand another tight squeeze, blinking back the first hint of tears. The doctor seemed unfazed. He scribbled a few notes in Lan Zhan’s chart, handled a thorough interrogation about next steps from Lan Qiren, and left the room as quickly as he’d come in. A few minutes later, a nurse appeared to start the antibiotics on the IV.
Wei Wuxian stroked Lan Zhan’s arm absentmindedly, his brain not quite firing on all cylinders. It was sometime around midnight, he thought. Valentine’s Day had come and gone, and Wei Wuxian didn’t have much to show for it, but at least Lan Zhan was still alive.
Lan Qiren spoke, breaking the silence. “You can leave now. Once he is released, I will take Wangji home to convalesce for a few days.”
Wei Wuxian reeled. Leave his Lan Zhan like this? Trying to tamp down the sudden surge of anger, he stood up and pulled his hand out of Lan Zhan’s, his fingers tingling as circulation started to return. He strode out of the room as Lan Zhan whimpered behind him. Those small, sad sounds were a sucker punch to the gut, but it was that or actually punch Lan Qiren.
Wei Wuxian returned to the hospital room a couple minutes later, his arms laden with vending machine snacks and his body still shaking with barely contained fury. Lan Qiren was in Wei Wuxian’s seat, trying to comfort Lan Zhan and having less success. Lan Qiren’s eyes showed the tiniest hint of panic as Lan Zhan kept pulling his hands away.
“Let me,” Wei Wuxian said brusquely.
“I thought you were--”
“Let. Me.”
Lan Qiren slowly moved aside, his stance shifting in a way that would have been intimidating if Wei Wuxian were slightly less furious. Wei Wuxian threw a small bag at a startled Lan Qiren, dumped the rest of his haul on his own backpack, and grabbed Lan Zhan’s hand again. Lan Zhan nuzzled towards him and sighed.
“Trail mix,” Wei Wuxian snapped, keeping his voice just low enough to avoid waking Lan Zhan further. “It’s the only vending machine food you Lans will eat. Do you know Lan Zhan won’t eat if there isn’t any food that sticks to your stupid Lan rules, even if he’s really hungry? He’d usually carry some fruit around, but sometimes he’d bruise an apple or the dining hall would be out of what he wanted or whatever, and then he’d just quietly starve until he found something he could eat. So I tried a few different things, and when he finally ate some trail mix, I started keeping it in my bag. Just in case he needed some. He likes the kind with cherries in it best.”
Lan Qiren looked like he’d been poleaxed. Wei Wuxian took a deep breath and soldiered on. “What I am saying is that I am not leaving. You and I both know he’s better than me; he’s basically a god and I’m basically a gremlin. But for some bizarre reason I am a gremlin who makes him happy, and he deserves to be happy. So until Lan Zhan wakes up and tells me to go away, I’m staying with him and I’m going to do everything I can to take care of him. You can kick me out of this hospital room, but you can’t chase me any further away than that.”
“Um.” Lan Qiren paused and blinked. “I… did know that he likes trail mix.” He stared vacantly at the damn biohazard poster. “I thought you might prefer to sleep.”
“Absofuckinglutely not.”
Massaging his temple with one hand, Lan Qiren sighed. The terrifying patriarch version of Lan Qiren had vanished at some point; now Wei Wuxian was sharing the room with an old man who was barely staying awake in a hospital room in the middle of the night. “I am not asking you to leave. But I would ask that you keep your language in check.”
Wei Wuxian settled back into his chair and nodded. “Deal.”
By one in the morning, Lan Zhan was stirring, the IV medications doing their work. “Wei Ying?” he said, opening his eyes. Wei Wuxian smiled back, feeling like the sun had come out after a particularly vicious storm. “Uncle,” he said, looking across the room. Lan Qiren quickly crossed over.
With eyes only half open, Lan Zhan weakly murmured, “Where are we? What happened?”
“You passed out next to the tub while I was picking up the ramen for dinner.”
“Oh.” Lan Zhan met Wei Wuxian’s eyes, the smallest wince of anxiety creasing his forehead.
“We came to the hospital after that, and your fever was over 103 even with Tylenol and Ibuprofen in your system. Overachiever. They did tell you there isn’t a prize for highest fever, right?” Wei Wuxian smoothed Lan Zhan’s hair back behind his ear, the pad of his thumb gently tracing its curve as he went. Lan Qiren could deal, or he could have a heart attack. Wei Wuxian couldn’t bring himself to care that much.
Tearing his adoring gaze away from Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan turned his head to look at his uncle. Lan Qiren was leaning slightly forward, his gaze anxious and analyzing. “I see you’ve met Wei Wuxian.”
“Indeed,” huffed Lan Qiren, his face hardening back into its default expression. “Wangji, why didn’t you call me earlier? Had you told me you were ill, I could have assisted.” And then I wouldn’t have been necessary, Wei Wuxian mentally filled in.
“Uncle.” A small, tired flash of determination shone in Lan Zhan’s eyes. “Wei Ying spent all Valentine’s Day taking excellent care of me. I did not need to call you earlier.”
“It would have been better to have family caring for you,” Lan Qiren continued. “I wouldn’t want to put such a burden on your… friend.”
“Boyfriend.” Lan Zhan quietly slammed the word into place, and the two Lans locked eyes.
Wei Wuxian prided himself on his knowledge of Lan Eye Contact Communication, but the conversation between nephew and uncle was too fast and too complex for him to catch all of it. Lan Zhan’s gaze was fierce, though, and Wei Wuxian knew exactly what Lan Zhan was saying when he deliberately reached his hand over to Wei Wuxian’s and squeezed. Wei Wuxian’s heart swelled to watch Lan Zhan defend him. If his boyfriend kept talking this way, Wei Wuxian might get used to having someone stick up for him. Wouldn’t that be novel.
At last, Lan Qiren leaned back. “Boyfriend, then. For now, though, let’s discuss your discharge. The doctor expects you will need several days of bed rest. Cloud Recesses, of course, will be your home while you begin your convalescence.”
“What about Wei Ying, Uncle? He was visiting me this weekend from New Haven.” Lan Zhan pressed the advantage a little further.
Lan Qiren nodded stiffly. “We can drop him off at the dormitory on the way home.” Lan Zhan gave Wei Wuxian a quick eyebrow raise--Is this acceptable? Wei Wuxian thought for a second. He didn’t look forward to being separated, but Wei Wuxian had too many classes to stay in New York all week, and Wei Wuxian’s tiny college dorm mattress was shitty enough for a healthy person, let alone a sick one. Cloud Recesses it was, then. When Wei Wuxian squeezed his hand back, Lan Zhan nodded agreement to his uncle. Wei Wuxian leaned into Lan Zhan’s ear to whisper, “If you need a rescue mission later this week, just text me. Wen Qing will totally let me steal her car for that.”
Soon, a nurse came in and made small talk while checking Lan Zhan’s vitals one last time. “Look at you, awake and coherent! Much better than a few hours ago. I’ll check with the resident on call to clear your discharge, but you’re ready to go home as soon as I get your antibiotic prescription filled. We’ll call you tomorrow with the rest of the test results to finalize your treatment plan.”
Walking out of the hospital, Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren supported Lan Zhan from each side as they slowly moved to the car. “Wangji, I will pack a bag for you and get your guqin from your apartment. Where are your keys?”
Oh shit, thought Wei Wuxian. Lan Zhan’s normally immaculate apartment was littered with the aftermath of their reunion the night before, and an empty bottle of Wei Wuxian’s favorite wine was sitting on the kitchen counter. Wei Wuxian hadn’t bothered cleaning anything up, too consumed with worry for Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan had been too out of it to intervene. If Lan Qiren saw the state of the apartment, Lan Zhan’s tattoo wasn’t going to be the only thing he’d be in trouble for once he was more coherent.
“I’ll get it!” Wei Wuxian blurted. “I know where everything is, and I can be in and out in five minutes. I even know what the bunnies need to be set up with so they’ll be okay until the neighbor checks in on them.”
Lan Qiren nodded assent, and the two of them helped Lan Zhan into Lan Qiren’s car. Wei Wuxian sat gingerly on the pristine white upholstery for the short drive back to the apartment. Lan Zhan sat slumped in the seat in front of him. As soon as the car pulled up, Wei Wuxian slid his hand into Lan Zhan’s pocket and grabbed the keys, opened the door, and lept from the car. “This won’t take a minute! I’ll be back so quickly you won’t even notice I’m gone!” His words stumbled over each other as he hustled to the lobby doors and headed up to pack for them both.
Thank you for being organized, Lan Zhan… Wei Wuxian thought as he packed Lan Zhan’s suitcase, gently slipped the guqin into its case, and threw his own things back into his bag. He gave Jingyi and Sizhui a quick pat on behalf of their dad and set them up for the night. To wrap it up, he hurriedly scooped up the condom wrappers, threw the towel in the hamper in the bottom of the closet, and shoved everything else under the bed, pulling the blanket down to hide the evidence so Xiao Xingchen wouldn’t be too scandalized when he came in to feed the rabbits.
Bags over his shoulders, he turned, took one last look at the small studio, was satisfied that Lan Zhan’s ears would not burn at the thought that someone else had seen the state it was in, and bounded back down to the waiting car. Lan Zhan gave Wei Wuxian a sleepy, concerned look, and Wei Wuxian patted his shoulder and reassured him that his rabbit children were fed and doing fine. Lan Zhan nodded and adjusted his seat so he could lay back, already starting to fall asleep.
As the car pulled out into traffic, Wei Wuxian idly listened to the chatter on the radio. They were saying something about politics, and they were pretty pissed off about it. It sounded like… Oh god. It was. Of course it was. Fox News. Something in his soul shriveled and died.
Wei Wuxian had probably spent his full yelling-at-Lan-Qiren budget, though, so he needed a new approach. He needed to be subtle. He needed to be friendly, even to someone he didn’t like very much. But he also needed results. What would Jin Guangyao do? he asked himself.
In his sweetest voice, he asked, “Mr. Lan, I know Lan Wangji got his taste in classical music from you, and I love pretty much everything he plays. Do you have a classical playlist on your phone?”
Lan Qiren’s eyes widened a fraction. “Well, I do have several albums on my phone. Wangji was kind enough to digitize my collection several summers ago. You… want to listen?”
“Of course! You know, we were in an orchestra together for years, since I play the flute. I’m always happy to listen to classical music, Chinese or Western. Lan Zhan was working on a dizi and guqin duet for us.”
“Hmm.” Lan Qiren pushed a button on the car’s fancy high-definition screen, and the sound of pundits was mercifully replaced by a cello. “Wangji played this piece in his sophomore year of high school.”
“Neat,” Wei Wuxian said, listening to the music. “That was before he tried picking up the violin, right?”
Lan Qiren started on the story of Lan Zhan’s music career, and Wei Wuxian let himself fade in and out of consciousness, reassured by the glimpses he could see of his boyfriend sleeping in the front seat.
***
“I believe this is your address.”
Wei Wuxian’s eyes blinked open from his sleepy haze. Sure enough, the familiar gate to his dormitory was right out the window.
“Yeah, this is it. Thanks for the ride, Mr. Lan.”
Wei Wuxian looked into the front seat, where Lan Zhan was sound asleep. It was a real sleep now, though, his face no longer tight with fever. Wei Wuxian reached forward and tucked some of the hair out of his face, giving him a quick fond smile. He then glanced over at Lan Qiren. “Um. Well. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
Wei Wuxian ducked out of the car. To his surprise, Lan Qiren stepped out as well. Judging by his expression, Lan Qiren was surprised as well. He cleared his throat.
“Thank you for being there today,” he said gruffly. “Wangji is clearly quite fond of you.”
Wei Wuxian’s face reddened. “Oh! No need to thank me, it was totally selfish. I mean, I’m fond of him too.”
“That was equally clear.” Lan Qiren hesitated again. “If Wangji is feeling well enough sometime this week, I suspect he would appreciate your presence for dinner. If you are available, of course.”
Wei Wuxian nodded, shocked. So maybe he hadn’t totally failed the introduction? If he was somehow getting invited back to the lair of the Lans? “Thanks, Mr. Lan. I’d like that.”
Lan Qiren gave a curt nod in reply. “We will coordinate over text about the time, then.” He moved to get back in the car.
“Oh! And Mr. Lan?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get him to the hospital earlier. I should have known…”
Lan Qiren’s lips twisted in a wry ghost of a smile. “Wangji has always been a stubborn child, slow to accept help. I would have been astonished had you managed to get him care before he reached that point.” He glanced softly through the windshield. “One more person caring for him is perhaps not such a terrible thing.”
Wei Wuxian nodded, his throat tight. “I understand, Mr. Lan.” Not trusting his voice for much more, he turned and headed back into the dorms. Tomorrow Wei Wuxian would wake up to a text from Lan Zhan saying, I am awake and I still choose you. Tomorrow Wei Wuxian would go buy two books and a stuffed rabbit to bring to his sick boyfriend. And tomorrow, his boyfriend’s terrifying uncle would maybe still approve of him just the tiniest bit. But for now, all Wei Wuxian wanted was his bed.