Lan WangJi woke up and made three important observations:
First, he was in his own room.
Second, he had no idea how he had gotten there.
He was lying in his bed, his sheets pulled half off his body. His guqin was on its stand near the window, his desk with his laptop and his books sat exactly how he had left them against the opposite wall. It was most definitely his room. He looked around it and double-checked after making the third observation. He'd needed to double-check. The lack of memory was strange. The third thing he noticed upon waking was downright mystifying.
Wei WuXian was curled up next to him, deeply asleep.
Based on those three observations, he then came to what seemed the most rational conclusion:
He was dreaming.
Lan WangJi tested that theory by pinching his arm. It hurt.
Not a dream, then.
There was a ring on his right ring finger. It was plastic, a bright, chrome-finished setting of several faceted indents intended to mimic small stones around a neon blue molded plastic gemstone the size of his eye. That had certainly not been there before his memory came to an abrupt end right after he had....
“Fuck,” he whispered. It sounded sullen in the quiet of his room. He glanced at Wei WuXian, checking to be sure his sleep remained undisturbed—
(He knew from experience that the relentless march of time was the only force more powerful than Wei WuXian's reluctance to wake.)
—and then carefully, carefully, carefully slipped out of bed.
Wei WuXian murmured unintelligibly, and slithered into the warmth left behind, tangling himself further in Lan WangJi's blankets and taking up the entirety of his bed as if he belonged there.
It was a nice image. A nice thought. Much too nice. Too tempting. Lan WangJi turned his back.
He was fully dressed, still wearing the soft turtleneck and jeans he'd put on yesterday. The ring was a discordant sensation around his finger. He fiddled with it, forced his hands to stillness, fiddled with it again. Every time he started to tug it off, he stopped as it reached his knuckle. Curious, he risked a glance back into the pleasant dream behind him. Wei WuXian was wearing a similar novelty ring. His was heart-shaped, an eye-searing neon red. It was also on his right ring finger.
Fuck fuck fuck fuCK FUCK, the more reactionary part of Lan WangJi's brain put in. What couldn't he remember?
He had gone to the arcade with Wei WuXian. Jiang WanYin and Nie Huaisang had also been there, but they were incidental. Lan WangJi had gone with Wei WuXian, at Wei WuXian's invitation.
It had not been a particularly pleasant place for him.
Arcades were loud, bright, chaotic...and while all those things were good occasionally—
(Occasionally meaning the volume of Wei WuXian's enthusiasm, the brightness of his smile, the chaotic nature of his brilliant mind....)
—Lan WangJi would have been more comfortable almost anywhere else. However, since Wei WuXian was at the arcade, the arcade was where Lan WangJi wanted to be. It...was not so bad. Eventually, the blaring noises of a hundred games melded into a roar that could be nearly tuned-out. His eyes grew mostly accustomed to the blinking, flashing, strobing lights. He found a spot in the wake of the huddle that was Jiang WanYin-Wei WuXian-Nie HuaiSang all joined by Wei WuXian's arms around the others' shoulders, and followed along, safe from the currents of other patrons.
(The jealousy over Wei WuXian's casual closeness with them was an old and familiar unpleasantness that he buried with the ease of long practice.)
They had all gotten drinks in ubiquitous styrofoam cups. Lan WangJi had watched Wei Ying slurp half of his down, only to refill it from a flask he'd snuck in. He remembered thinking: 'You drink too much.' He remembered that he hadn't voiced that thought, but that Wei WuXian had read it in his face and been loudly displeased by it, although he tried to mask that displeasure with a smirk and teasing comments. Lan WangJi hadn't been able to explain that he was concerned rather than judging. Wei WuXian's hair had bounced, twisted through a wine red scrunchie, as he'd turned his back and walked off in search of a game.
Shortly thereafter, Lan WangJi found himself the designated drink-holder. He felt that was a bit unfair. It was assumed that, because of his strict upbringing, he had neither interest in nor skill with video games. That assumption was not incorrect, but that didn't mean it was fair.
After twenty minutes or so of playing a shell game with four drinks, Lan WangJi finally lost. He took a long sip of what he thought was his water, realized with his mouth half-full that he was drinking Wei WuXian's vodka-and-coke, panicked, choked, realized that he couldn't spit it back down the straw, and so swallowed the whole, vile mouthful with a splutter and a grimace that caught the entire group's attention.
And that was the end of the feed. He had no further access to any sensory input until he had woken up in his own bed, spooned by the love of his life, wearing a novelty ring of pure, electric blue mockery.
He found that he was not sure what to do.
Leaving his brain idling uselessly, he stepped into the comfort of his morning routine and got ready for the day. It was possible that by the time he had relieved himself, washed up, dressed, and combed his hair, he would have worked out how to proceed. That possibility dwindled steadily until he found himself refreshed and presentable, staring blankly down at his occupied bed with no idea what to do about the situation.
No useful ideas, at any rate. Laying back down with Wei WuXian was out of the question.
“Wei Ying,” he murmured.
Wei WuXian did not so much as stir.
Well, Lan WangJi had tried. It seemed the awkwardness that would come with Wei WuXian waking up would be put off a little longer. Pity.
Lan WangJi retreated to his desk and picked up his phone. He did not take a picture of Wei WuXian asleep in his bed, but it took a heated internal debate to repress the impulse.
When will a chance like this come up again?
He didn't mentally verbalize 'cute' or 'adorable' or 'the most precious thing in my world,' but only because words were entirely inadequate to capture the tidal wave of affection and longing that swept over him as he stole another glance at Wei WuXian: noting his bare shins where he'd kicked off the blanket; the way his hair didn't shine, but cradled and diffused light like velvet; the way the sweater he was wearing was very much the exact same one Lan WangJi had 'misplaced' a month ago.
He had noticed the sweater the day before at the arcade, but now Wei WuXian was still wearing it, and was in his bed...! That and the rings...they had to mean something, right?
Pathetic. His self-control had very little respect for the wants and desires it corralled on a daily basis. It forced his eyes down to his phone, informing him that he needed a distraction.
He had three missed calls and five times as many unread texts from his uncle. Lan WangJi felt his heart begin to pound in a way wholly unlike the way it had when he had woken up face-to-sleeping-face with Wei WuXian. The tickle of butterflies in his stomach was replaced with a vague feeling of nausea. Ignoring the messages—perhaps they were entirely unrelated—he opened twitter.
Lan WangJi had a twitter account because Wei WuXian had insisted that he make one. He wasn't good at it, and didn't even particularly like it. He followed a total of three people that he knew in real life: Wei WuXian, Lan XiChen, and Jiang YanLi (the latter mostly because Wei WuXian openly adored her, and she sometimes posted recipes and family photos which Lan WangJi hoarded greedily in the wishful section of his mind filled with Wei Ying and domesticity and Someday).
There was a notification showing that he had a new direct message.
It was from his brother.
It said: Congratulations, WangJi ^_^
There was also a link to a tweet.
Lan WangJi did not want to click the link. He had a bad feeling. He was not a superstitious person, but this was a bad feeling and he did not like it one bit.
He clicked the link.
His phone clattered to the floor.
Like a startled cat, Lan WangJi was on his feet, back arched as he bent half-over, caught between snatching up his phone and staring wide-eyed at Wei WuXian to be sure the noise hadn't woken him. A dozen hurried heartbeats later and he de-fluffed, sheathed his metaphorical claws, picked up his phone, and sat back down, as unruffled as if nothing had happened.
This time, he was prepared for the photoset, and didn't drop his phone.
In the back of his mind, logic informed him that since Wei WuXian, Jiang WanYin, and himself were all shown in the photographs, then the person behind the camera, and therefore the owner of the twitter account, was most likely Nie HuaiSang. It was background information that his brain processed. It didn't mean much to him.
The first photo showed him on one knee, holding one of Wei WuXian's hands. Wei WuXian's mouth was open wide, laughter forever frozen in the moment as he pretended to swoon. Half-hidden behind him, Jiang WanYin scowled at the scene.
The next picture showed the tell-tale glint of chromed plastic as Lan WangJi, now standing, put the ring on Wei Ying's finger. He was already wearing its match.
The third photo was blurry, taken just as Wei WuXian had turned away from Lan WangJi to hold up his hand, showing off the hideous lump of shiny plastic for the camera as if it was a real ring. He had apparently turned at exactly the moment Lan WangJi had leaned in for a kiss, because there were Lan WangJi's lips, puckered and pressed against the side of Wei Ying's face where his lips would have been only a moment ago.
In the fourth picture, Lan WangJi was carrying Wei WuXian away. Jiang WanYin was shouting at them, held back by Nie HuaiSang's grip on his coat sleeve. Wei WuXian was laughing and waving.
The tweet read: a lovely ceremony! ngl, the vows had me in tears
Lan WangJi would have simply set his phone aside and buried his face in his hands, had he not noticed the following tweet, which had been posted an hour after the initial one. It was another photo, this time of a very official-looking piece of paper.
Above the photo were the words: so nice to be able to bring my friends happiness as a licensed minister. wishing these two all the best!
Lan WangJi stared at the tweet in utter horror.
Fuck! No!! That wasn't how it was supposed to be! Not in some garishly-lit, cacophonous arcade! Not with cheap, plastic toy rings!
Not before he had even worked up the nerve to ask Wei WuXian out!
Even though his eyes were wide open, Lan WangJi was no longer seeing his surroundings. He was married. He was married to Wei WuXian...! The love of his life! The only person he had ever wanted! ...And there was no way in heaven or on earth that Wei WuXian had thought of it as anything other than one big joke.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, seeing nothing as his thoughts chased each other in circles around his head. He was married. Wei WuXian had married him. It was real. It wasn't real. It was a joke. Wei WuXian didn't know it was real. Did he know? Had he seen the second tweet? He would have to wake up. They would have to go...to go get the marriage annulled. Surely they could. They hadn't...consummated the union, after all. Lan WangJi was sure enough of that. They would just...make it as if it had never happened.
The thick plastic of the ring bit into his finger as he closed his hand in a fist.
He needed to wake Wei WuXian.
Leadenly, he stood and crossed to the bedside. He knelt, reaching out to touch Wei WuXian's cheek, then at the last second let his hand settle on his shoulder instead.
“Wei Ying.” He gave him a gentle shake, then called again, louder. “Wei Ying.”
Groaning, Wei WuXian curled in on himself. There was that wave of affection again, suffocating and sharply bittersweet.
“Not yet, Lan Zhan. Five more minutes. Be a good boy and let me have five more minutes....”
He was not a good boy. Good boys didn't get drunk and propose to their beloved in a noisy arcade with trinket rings probably purchased at the prize counter. Good boys didn't trick their one-and-only into marrying them—no matter how unintentional the trickery.
“Wei Ying. It is important.”
“Sleep is important. Come back to bed, Lan Zhan.” Stretching out his arms, he cracked open his eyes, squinting as a grin spread across his face and crinkled up his nose.
Lan WangJi's heart skipped a beat.
“Come. Your dear husband is getting cold without you.”
Lan WangJi's heart tripped over itself and was sucked up into his throat as he gasped.
The entire bed quaked with the strength of Wei WuXian's laughter. “Lan Zhan, oh, Lan Zhan! Your face! What? Don't tell me. You forgot?” His eyes shone brighter than all the lights of the arcade above his smile. “That's horrible! Lan Zhan, how could you? This husband of yours is devastated!”
“I...saw the tweet.”
“Pity he didn't take a video, huh? Want me to tell you the rest? I engraved it all on my heart!”
He winked, teasing, and Lan WangJi had to close his eyes against the sharp pain in his chest.
The words clawed their way out of him: “The rest?”
Somehow, Wei WuXian's grin got even bigger. “The story of our whirlwind romance!”
One curve away from the finish line on the final lap, Wei WuXian pulled Waluigi up directly behind Bowser and shot a shell right up his brother's tailpipe.
“What the fuck!” Jiang Cheng shouted as Wei WuXian's avatar shot past and zipped over the finish line.
Laughing, Wei WuXian reached out to shove his brother. “Language, A-Cheng! There are children here!”
“Fuck off, you cheat!”
He shoved back so hard that Wei WuXian actually fell out of the seat. He landed on the floor in a heap, laughing even as Lan WangJi juggled the cups he was holding to offer him a hand up. Lan WangJi had looked so irritated earlier when he had caught Wei WuXian pepping up his soda. That disapproval had stung, but if he wasn't going to say anything, then Wei WuXian could let it go.
“Lan Zhan, protect me! Jiang Cheng's being mean!” He grinned, delighted, as Lan WangJi turned his stare onto Jiang Cheng.
“Do not push others.”
Jiang Cheng sneered, but didn't challenge him. “Are we playing another round, or picking something else?”
“Just a sec—I need a victory drink!” Lan WangJi passed him his soda, but he was sidetracked before he could take a sip by Jiang Cheng declaring that it was his turn to pick a game.
“No way! You picked Mario Kart!”
“You picked Mario Kart!” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Just because you kept insisting that I liked it, doesn't mean I'm the one who actually chose it! I'm picking Mortal Kombat.”
Groaning, Wei WuXian rolled his eyes. “You always pick that! Doesn't it get boring ripping people's spines out?”
“Not when I'm playing against you.”
Before he could retort, Wei WuXian's attention was stolen by the sound of someone choking. Turning, he saw Lan WangJi coughing over his cup, a thin trail of something that clearly wasn't water dribbling down his chin onto the lid. With a sinking feeling, Wei WuXian took a sip of the cup he'd been handed, and winced. Water.
“Ugh. Isn't that annoying, when you go to drink something and it's not what you were expecting to taste?” Nobody responded. With a shrug, he stepped closer to Lan WangJi and patted his back. “You all right, Lan Zhan?”
Frowning, Lan WangJi pinched the bridge of his nose. He opened his mouth to speak, then simply dropped as his knees gave out.
“Woah!” Wei WuXian only barely kept Lan WangJi from hitting the floor. Their drinks weren't so lucky, bursting open against the carpet to splatter their pants. He exchanged a bewildered glance with his friends, then Nie HuaiSang was hurrying to help him get an unconscious Lan WangJi to a bench near the restrooms as Jiang Cheng went to find an employee to clean up the spill. After a few frantic minutes during which they determined that Lan WangJi was not dead, only asleep and cursed with a humiliatingly low alcohol tolerance, Wei WuXian heaved a sigh and sagged into the bench. He hadn't shrugged Lan WangJi's arm off his shoulders, and saw no reason to do so just yet. It was nice. Warm. Made him want to lean right up against Lan WangJi and nod off.
“I hope Jiang Cheng blames the spill on someone else,” he said with a crooked smile. “I think Lan Zhan might actually quit even tolerating me if I got us kicked out of an arcade for sneaking in alcohol.”
Lan WangJi had never liked him very much, after all. He only barely tolerated Wei WuXian now, probably because it was easier to just let him have his way. He hadn't even noticed that Wei WuXian was wearing a sweater he'd stolen from him a few weeks back. Obviously, he just didn't care.
Nie HuaiSang sighed. “Wei-ge, I'm going to tell you this because you deserve to be happy...” He tapped his phone against his lips. “...and...if you should feel like you owe me one...well, we'll discuss that next time I need a favor.” He took a deep breath. “Lan WangJi is so incredibly head-over-heels in love with you, that you could go to the concession stand for a plate of onion rings, use one to propose to him, and he would marry you on the spot.”
Wei WuXian couldn't help but laugh. Trust Nie HuaiSang to be able to cheer him up when his heart was aching despite his best efforts to forget what had caused it pain. The idea of Lan WangJi being in love with him was absurd, but the mental image was hilarious enough to make up for it.
“I spent my last dollar on tokens,” he admitted with a grin. “You think he'd accept one of those plastic gem rings from the prize counter if I win enough tickets for it?”
Nie Huaisang's eyes shrank to crescents as he hid his smile behind his phone. “I really don't know. Would you accept, Lan WangJi?”
Eyes gone wide, Wei WuXian's head whipped to the side to stare as Lan WangJi's arm tightened around his shoulders. Pale eyes met his, stopping the breath in his throat. There was a fuzziness to Lan WangJi's gaze like mist gathering on spidersilk, but it did nothing to dim the intensity of his stare.
Abruptly, Lan WangJi stood up. He made a beeline for one of the token machines, took a bill out of his pocket, then fed it into the machine. Coins began falling out. Then they just...kept coming.
Unable to look away, Wei WuXian asked Nie HuaiSang: “Did you see how much he put in there?”
“I don't know. I really don't know....” He raised his phone and took a photo.
“Is he...? He couldn't be, right?”
“Wei-ge...I think he might actually be drunk.”
“It was only a sip!”
Eventually, the avalanche stopped. A small crowd had paused to watch, at least half of them kids. Tokens littered the floor. Some had rolled toward Lan WangJi's small audience. Cupped hands full to overflowing, he walked away from the machine, leaving behind anything that had fallen. Wei WuXian hurried after him, pausing only to tell the kids to help themselves.
“Lan Zhan? What are you doing?” He hadn't played anything the entire time they had been at the arcade. For the life of him, Wei WuXian couldn't figure out what had sparked his sudden interest.
Sparing him only a brief glance, Lan WangJi kept walking, leading Wei WuXian along the wall, past the Skee-Ball lanes, past the game where players knocked down clown faces with beanbags, to the very end where two of the basketball games stood. He stopped there and considered them for a moment.
“You want to play these? I think you might have gotten more tokens than you need, though.” Wei WuXian covered a laugh, then stood back to watch.
Astonishment replaced his smile in no time. It wasn't a difficult game, so he wasn't really surprised that Lan WangJi was good at it. No, what surprised him was Lan WangJi's speed and accuracy. Every toss made it through the hoop, and Lan WangJi had another basketball in the air almost before the previous one had cleared the ring. It was incredible to watch him. He just kept racking up points. When the clock finally ran out, the tickets began to pour from the slot. They kept coming and coming, and when they stopped, Lan WangJi put another token into the machine.
With a snort that turned into a laugh, Wei WuXian tried to join him. He grabbed a basketball and made to throw it, only for Lan WangJi to break his perfect rhythm and snatch it from his hands.
“Hey! I'm helping! It's still faster with two people!”
Sure, two people meant it was more likely that they would both shoot at the same time and get in each others' way, but that was part of the fun! To his great surprise, Lan WangJi steered him by the shoulders to the next machine, and put in a token for him.
“You want me to play this one? Lan Zhaaan...! I don't want to play by myself! What fun is that?”
Even as he spoke, he was tossing basketballs, paying little enough attention that none of them made it. Lan WangJi's timer was still steadily counting down, but he took a few more precious seconds to reposition Wei WuXian in front of the machine, and even stood behind him and placed his hands over Wei WuXian's on the ball to demonstrate proper throwing technique. His game ended while he was teaching Wei WuXian how to play, but he merely watched the next toss make it into the hoop, then went back to the other machine and started a new game.
By the time Lan WangJi stopped, he had a stack of tickets nearly as thick as his palm. He collected them and walked off, leaving behind a small pile of tokens, and Wei WuXian finishing out one final game. It didn't take a genius to guess where he was heading.
Wei WuXian was halfway to the prize counter when he saw the employee behind it plonk down a tub of plastic gem rings for Lan WangJi to choose from. Watching him inspect them as if he was choosing actual gemstones, Wei WuXian froze in place. Lan WangJi had heard him talking to Nie HuaiSang about the rings, but that didn't mean he was.... There was no way.
“No way,” Wei WuXian breathed as Lan WangJi turned and immediately headed in his direction. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jiang Cheng approaching as well.
“I think you're about to find out that I was right.”
He hadn't even heard Nie HuaiSang approach, but at the singsong murmur, he glanced back to see him there, phone at the ready. A giddy sort of anticipation filled him as his attention returned to Lan WangJi, bearing down purposefully upon him, eyes intent, rings in hand. Wei WuXian was moving forward to meet him before he had even commanded his legs to work.
“Wei Ying,” Lan WangJi said. He dropped down on one knee.
Suddenly, Wei WuXian was grinning so hard that his face hurt. He reached out, and Lan WangJi captured his hand, gazing up at him with the softest expression Wei WuXian had ever seen on him.
“Lan Zhan, are you...?” He broke off into laughter from the tickling of butterflies in his stomach. “You aren't really...?”
But Lan WangJi didn't joke, not like this. His humor was dry and easily missed. He didn't lie, either, and in the half-light of the arcade, illuminated by the flickering game screens and flashbulbs, there was an earnestness to his expression that lent wings to Wei WuXian's heart.
It wasn't even a request, but a question. Even after having overheard that stupid conversation, even after having gone and won a pair of the cheap, plastic rings and dropped to one knee in the middle of a crowded arcade, Lan WangJi was still asking, as if Wei WuXian could say anything other than...
“Yes!” He flung a hand up, pressing the back of it to his forehead as he pretended to swoon. “Ah, Lan Zhan! So sudden! You have to give me some warning first! What am I going to do? My heart can't take it!”
In a heartbeat, Lan WangJi was on his feet, one arm snaking around Wei WuXian's back, the other still holding his hand. He was only a couple centimeters taller, but he felt much bigger in that moment, pressed closer than he'd ever been, and Wei WuXian had to swallow hard as a wave of heat swamped him. There was clear disbelief in his eyes as he searched Wei WuXian's face.
“Yes! Absolutely! Right away!”
That was when Lan WangJi started crying.
“What the fuck....” Jiang Cheng muttered.
“Ahh, no, Lan Zhan! Don't cry! What am I supposed to do if you cry?” He tugged up the sleeve of his stolen sweater over the heel of his palm and used it to wipe away the tears. “It's okay. It's okay, Lan Zhan. Be a good boy and don't cry, okay? How can we get married if you're crying?”
Lan WangJi grabbed both his hands and clasped them tight. “Married.” His gaze was positively molten, and Wei WuXian felt his knees going weak.
“Yes,” he croaked, throat gone dry. “Married.”
“I don't think—”
“I can officiate!” Nie HuaiSang said. He was smiling much too brightly, but Wei WuXian decided he didn't care. So what if it was all a bit ridiculous? Lan WangJi wanted to marry him!
“Let's get married, then!”
The small crowd of onlookers Lan WangJi's proposal had attracted cheered at that. He was pretty sure he could feel Jiang Cheng scoffing behind him, but he wasn't protesting, and that was the important part. As Nie HuaiSang launched into a quick, bare-bones monologue about marriage and love and the power vested in him by Become A Minister Dot Org, Wei WuXian found he couldn't stop smiling. Not with Lan WangJi refusing to let go of his hands. Not with the sudden realization that he had no vows prepared and had to make them up on the spot—
“Lan Zhan, you're really great! The best! I like you so much! I admire you, want you, love you! I want to play arcade games with you for the rest of my life!”
—not when Lan WangJi copied the vows he'd just spoken, repeating them haltingly but sincerely. And certainly not when Lan WangJi slipped the gaudy, plastic ring onto his ring finger after allowing Wei WuXian to do the same for him.
In his excitement, Wei WuXian forgot about the part where newlyweds sealed the ceremony with a kiss. He was turning to show off his ring as Nie HuaiSang gave them the go-ahead, phone raised to capture the moment. Wei Ying felt lips press against his cheek, and couldn't help a fit of laughter. He was drawn helplessly into Lan WangJi's embrace as the small crowd whistled and cheered, and had just a moment to shiver at the feeling of Lan WangJi's breath against his neck before he was swept off his feet without warning.
He yelped, and laughed, and waved to Nie HuaiSang as Jiang Cheng demanded to know where Lan WangJi was taking him. Wei WuXian couldn't care less. He was having the time of his life. Shamelessly clinging to Lan WangJi, he dared to give him a kiss on the cheek, and hoped that his dear, pretend husband wouldn't be too embarrassed to ever face him again once he sobered up.
“...and then you brought me back here. You were so cute last night, Lan Zhan! I couldn't figure out what you were doing at first—you kept setting me down in different rooms and showing me things, and any time I'd get up to try to help, you got all huffy!”
Lan WangJi had set him on the couch to take his shoes and place them neatly near the door. He had brought Wei WuXian into the kitchen and silently insisted on making him tea, batting his hands away whenever he tried to help. He had watched Wei WuXian drink it, so pleased that he'd practically been glowing, then he'd taken the cup and meticulously washed and dried it, glancing back every now and again as if to be sure Wei WuXian was watching. He had led Wei WuXian on a tour of his home—despite the fact that Wei WuXian had been there before and knew where the linen closet was, and the bathroom, and the bedroom.
The bedroom had brought back the butterflies in Wei WuXian's stomach, particularly when Lan WangJi had gone straight for his bed and drew back the covers. Then, when he'd glanced back, instead of invitation, it was that same 'Watch me' sort of look he'd been giving in the kitchen. As Wei WuXian had looked on, bemused, he'd re-made the bed, smoothing the sheets down into perfection. He'd turned around when he finished, waiting expectantly.
“Very nice. You're such a reliable househusband,” Wei WuXian had teased. He hadn't been prepared for Lan WangJi to smile at his words, and drew a sharp breath. It had only been the tiniest upturn of his mouth, but it had been so pleased, so gentle, that Wei WuXian had fallen for him all over again.
“Lan Zhan,” he'd said breathlessly. “Isn't there something else we could be doing on the bed?”
He wouldn't have let things go too far, of course. Lan WangJi had been drunk, after all, and Wei WuXian wouldn't have taken complete advantage. But a kiss would have been nice. A couple of kisses maybe, and then—
And then he'd been lifted off his feet and carried to bed and that giddiness had come back, so strong that he'd simply closed his eyes and waited to be kissed...
...but had instead found himself being tucked thoughtfully in beneath the sheets.
“Sleep.” He'd crawled in next to Wei WuXian, settling himself on his back. There had been a moment of hesitation, then Lan WangJi's hand had sought his out beneath the covers and twined their fingers together. Lan WangJi had his eyes closed, face turned resolutely up toward the ceiling, but Wei WuXian had noticed that the very tips of his ears were bright red.
Wei WuXian laughed remembering it. “You really were so cute last night, Lan Er-gege,” he repeated. “If you ever marry me for real, I'll consider myself incredibly lucky!”
For a moment, Lan WangJi stared at him. Then, almost guiltily, he held out his phone, indicating that Wei WuXian should take a look. He had a tweet from Nie HuaiSang pulled up, a photo of a minister's license. Wei WuXian looked from it to Lan WangJi's solemn expression, and failed utterly to stop himself from bursting into laughter.
“Lan Zhan, oh, Lan Zhan, you're too funny! Don't ever change, okay?” He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes and fought off the urge to grab Lan WangJi by the ears and yank him close for a kiss. He settled for tugging gently on one of the thick locks of hair that framed Lan WangJi's face. “He's joking, Funny Bunny. Or did you think we could be married without filling out and filing any paperwork? What century do you think it is, that it would be so easy?” He saw incredulity in the slight widening of Lan WangJi's eyes and laughed again.
“Listen, listen: I have one question for you, Lan Zhan.” He rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows to look Lan WangJi directly in the eye. “Will you go out with me? I don't mind saying 'yes' to you again, but it would be nice if we went on at least one date before actually getting married!”
He paused, but Lan WangJi seemed to be frozen, simply staring at him, lips barely parted.
“Lan Zhan? Anyone home?” he asked, waving a hand in front of Lan WangJi's face. He laughed as Lan WangJi caught his wrist. “You could answer me, you know! At least kiss me. I think I could figure things out from th—”
As far as first kisses went, sharing one in his new boyfriend's bed, wearing a comfy sweater stolen from said new boyfriend, and feeling the press of a cheap, toy wedding ring against his wrist was pretty damn good, if Wei WuXian was any judge.