“When Jiang Cheng’s almost done, Wei Wuxian enters the kitchen with his headphones on, double-takes when he sees Jiang Cheng—and, okay, maybe Jiang Cheng should have turned on the actual kitchen lights, but the darkness was comforting, alright? Sue him—and slides his headphones down to rest around his neck. “Oh, you’re still alive! I thought you might have up and died in your office, and then no one would have noticed until next year,” he says, opening the fridge and examining its contents with a critical eye.
“Hilarious,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “Did you make this?”
“Why, do you like it?”
“It didn’t kill me, is all.”
Wei Wuxian ends up with a plastic jug of juice when he closes the door. He makes eye contact with Jiang Cheng as he unscrews the cap and lifts the entire jug to his lips.
“Gross,” Jiang Cheng says, but without any real force behind it.
“Yeah, I made it,” Wei Wuxian says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Mm. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I figured you were probably too busy working yourself half to death to remember to like, eat, or whatever.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Jiang Cheng says, raising his eyebrows and scooping the last few bites from the bottom of the container.
“Hey! I know how to take a day off, thank you very much,” Wei Wuxian replies, re-capping the juice bottle and putting it back in the fridge.
“I am taking days off, that’s why I had to make sure everything was in order before I did.”
Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause your office doesn’t have any other competent lawyers who can handle the—what—two days? You’re taking off? You know it’s stupid, Jiang Cheng.” He spreads his arms wide. “Just accept that you’re a chronic workaholic. Acceptance is the first stage towards—”
“Will you shut up for once in your life? Fuckssake,” Jiang Cheng says, balling up his napkin and tossing it at Wei Wuxian, who catches it after it bounces off his forehead.
“Now that’s gross,” he says, drawing his brows together and sticking his tongue out in mock disgust, before tossing the napkin in the trash. “Anyways,” he says, making his way to the liquor cabinet as well, “are you ready for tomorrow?”
The silence that falls between them, broken only by the tinkling sound of drink being poured, is probably incriminating enough. Jiang Cheng takes a pointed gulp of the cognac, holding out the glass for Wei Wuxian to refill.
“That bad?” Wei Wuxian asks, softer than he usually ever is, and Jiang Cheng stares into the depths of his newly-poured cognac as something inside him… not breaks, exactly, but loosens, and then he’s thinking about everything that he’s been keeping at bay up until now with massive workloads and a frenetic crunch-time rush.
“I’m scared, I think,” he says, quietly. He scoffs immediately afterwards, annoyed by how shaky his voice sounds.
“Of what?” Wei Wuxian asks, sitting down opposite Jiang Cheng, cradling his drink between his hands as gently as he speaks.
“Of—of disappointing him.” There’s no question who ‘him’ is. “I don’t… want to get close to him, only for him to suddenly realize how horrible I am, and then leave. I don’t…” he trails off, but Wei Wuxian waits quietly, for once. Jiang Cheng has never had many friends, let alone close friends; that fact alone is terrifying enough, but when he adds to it the idea that maybe he and Lan Xichen could be romantic partners as well—
It’s a lot of—of openness, of vulnerability, and Jiang Cheng hates that.
It’s easier to run from that than face it, but both options are equally scary—if he runs, and keeps Lan Xichen at a distance, then he may never know what could be, and he could lose a friend; on the other hand, if he—if he actually starts to love Lan Xichen, only for Lan Xichen to realize the same can’t be said for him?
Jiang Cheng looks down at his glass, the amber liquid glinting in the low light and providing him with no answers. He startles when Wei Wuxian flicks him in the forehead. Hard.
“What the fuck?”
“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, completely unrepentant, “You were getting a little lost in your cup there. Had to bring you back somehow. Anyways, are you paying attention to me now?”
“Yes, okay, fine,” Jiang Cheng says, rubbing his forehead. “What?”
“Okay, okay, geez! We’ll just get right to it then, shall we?” His hands pause the motion of his glass, and he leans forward, eyes fixed on Jiang Cheng’s, his brows furrowed slightly in consternation that looks out of place on his face. “You seem to be laboring under the impression that you are unlovable, and I’d just like to remind you that that isn’t true.”
Jiang Cheng physically reels back. “I never said—”
“Sure, but that’s what you’re scared of, isn’t it?” Wei Wuxian presses. Jiang Cheng squirms in his seat, feeling increasingly like he wants to get up and leave this conversation. Seemingly sensing this, Wei Wuxian darts out a hand and grabs Jiang Cheng’s wrist, holding him firmly. “Not to psychoanalyze us or anything, but… our parents did a number on us. And that’s all in the past, but you—I love you, A-Jie loves you, A-Ling loves you, Huaisang loves you—I mean, even Jin Zixuan acts like a prick, but last time you were late to a family dinner because your court meeting ran overtime, he asked where you were! With like, a concerned tone of voice! You know how big that is for him.”
Jiang Cheng opens his mouth.
“And A-Jie wasn’t even in the room, so that’s not an excuse. And,” Wei Wuxian barrels on, “Wen Qing still checks up every now and then, doesn’t she? And Mianmian likes you enough that she chose to work with you. At like, nine in the morning, every weekday, which is objectively when you’re at your worst. So. You’re lovable, extremely so, and I’m not just saying that because I’m the best big brother in the whole entire world.”
“You’re stupid,” Jiang Cheng says, instead of telling Wei Wuxian that he feels like crying, because this is exactly what he needed to hear and be reminded of. Wei Wuxian smiles at him, so Jiang Cheng figures he can read between the lines, anyways.
“Look—playing it safe, always, will get you nowhere. You are where you are now because you took the risk of applying to law school, took the risk of sitting for the exams, continue taking risks every time you choose a new client—you’re among the best lawyers in the city! Do you know how many lawyers there are in this city? Actually, don’t answer that, you probably have exact numbers and shit, but there’s lots, is the point.”
Wei Wuxian stops long enough to take a gulp of cognac, smacking his lips obnoxiously.
“Anyways, the point here is, I think—I think there’s some things that are worth taking risks for,” Wei Wuxian concludes, turning his glass back and forth between his hands once again. He looks up at Jiang Cheng, earnest. “This is one of them.”
Jiang Cheng takes a steadying breath. “How are you so sure?” he asks.
Wei Wuxian shrugs. “It worked for me.” There’s a moment of silence in which Jiang Cheng processes what Wei Wuxian said, and Wei Wuxian appears to do the same. His eye widen as Jiang Cheng’s narrow.
“Worked for you?” he says, enunciating each word.
“Haha, okay, well.” Wei Wuxian scratches his head and avoids making eye contact with Jiang Cheng. “Um, is now a good time to have a heart-to-heart? Because, um. I have a boyfriend?”
