I think I forgot what human contact felt like for either Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian or Shiro/Keith ♡
Ugh, this one killed me in the best way 😭 I decided to go WangXian because I have a buttload of touch starved Sheith coming out in the next few months, and then…it sort of ran away on me…
This is going to be part of a larger modern music AU inspired very loosely by August Rush. It all works out in the end, I promise ❤️
Lan Wangji is used to his sleep being interrupted by Wei Wuxian in one way or another. The way his nightmares caused him to cry out was disturbing, he was disturbing when his hands scrabbled on the hard ground outside camping as children, and he’s disturbing now as his ragged breathing puffs warm down the line of Lan Wangji’s spine.
Forever’s come and gone since the last time they were together in the same city, same house, same room.
Never like now, in the same bed.
Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitch against Lan Wangji’s back, delicate as a butterfly’s wings as he whimpers, “Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan~”
Lan Wangji holds still under the warmth of their blanket. He’d meant to go back to his hotel room after the show, to fall into the arms of sleep instead of the arms of a man he’d never quite forgotten, and this…hearing his name like this, so broken, terrifies him.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says again, and it’s a broken keening as he curls forward to rest his forehead against Lan Wangji’s nape. He’ll accept the disturbance this time–it’s painfully obvious he’s caused one in Wei Wuxian with his absence.
Reaching a hand back, he rests it on Wei Wuxian’s bare hip in hopes of calming him. He’s not ready to face him yet, isn’t ready to look at the face that’s haunted him through the years he’s been gone.
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian says again after several minutes of relative quiet, and there’s no sleep in his voice anymore, only an exhausted question. The trembling in his body ceases as Lan Wangji’s thumb rubs a gentle circle over the hip bone that’s entirely too prominent. “I was dreaming.”
“You left me again, as you always do.“
There’s a pause, one that holds Lan Wangji’s consideration of breaking his own code and lying, but he didn’t come here for that. He came here because Wei Wuxian had looked so haunted when he saw him on stage, like he’d seen a monster, both beautiful and terrible.
He nods again, because he’s promised himself enough running is enough.
"Is he leaving again?” Wei Wuxian asks, the feigned lightness in the question grating. His forehead creases against Lan Wangji’s neck, his fingers curling at the base of his spine before he begins to pull back, as though Lan Wangji is going to be angry that he’s seeking out that simple intimacy. “It’s okay, I guess. Lan Wangji’s always given me attention when he’s able.” His exhale shudders out of him and he nearly rocks the frame of his bed with the force before Lan Wangji’s hand tightens against his hip. “You can, if you want. I won’t stop you.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji murmurs. “You know why I left.”
Delicate flautist’s hands itch toward him, then splay out over the small of his back as Wei Wuxian moves closer with a bitten off whimper. “I could’ve gone too,” he says.
“And then you said you’d make your own way,” Lan Wangji says. “You promised me.”
On the thin mattress in the middle of a shitty apartment, Wei Wuxian chokes out an admission. “I lied.”
Lan Wangji’s blood runs cold, sluggish through his veins in the eternity it takes for him to roll over and face the other man. He skims his knuckles over the pale skin of Wei Wuxian’s arm, then up to his shoulder and neck before he’s cradling a ruddy cheek in his hand and watching a crystalline tear arc toward his palm.
“I didn’t know I had at first, Lan Zhan, I promise,” Wei Wuxian whispers. “I just wanted what was best for you. You couldn’t have the best with me.” Skin rasps over skin as Lan Wangji reaches for the water with his thumb, but Wei Wuxian pushes the hand away entirely and curls into himself. “It’s too much,” he breathes, but then clutches at Lan Wangji’s arm again. “You’re real.”
Wei Wuxian does his best to muster a pout, and he’d have hit the mark if it weren’t for the all-too-real way his chin quivers. “Sometimes the drugs made me think you were here,” he says, “but you never were. I’d reach and reach and find nothing.” His fingers whisper over the skin of Lan Wangji’s chest, caressing it like it’s something precious, and Lan Wangji feels himself crack open under the warmth of the blanket and the sun and the touch. “I wished for years and years, but you weren’t ever here. I almost forgot what it’s like to touch another person.”
“Like this?” Lan Wangji asks, hoping he’ll continue the sentence.
“At all.” Wei Wuxian hangs his head between them and lets out a tremulous sigh. “I didn’t want to touch anyone who wasn’t you, and then no one loved me enough to try.”
“They’re fools,” Lan Wangji says. He leans his forehead against Wei Wuxian’s, holding himself back from brushing his lips over the year tracks. “I never should have left.”
Wei Wuxian smiles a watery smile. “I would’ve forced you anyway,” he says. “But now you’ve found your way back to me. Say you’ll stay, even for a minute.”
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