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elliethefroggy · 2 years

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The Hunt

SangChengMonth2020 (on ao3)

Day 30: Free Day!

“If we get caught, I’m breaking your legs,” Jiang Cheng threatened in the dead of the night, Lan Qiren hot on their heels.

“We’re not getting caught,” Nie Huaisang replied, lugging Jiang Cheng along, forcing him to walk faster. Nie Huaisang could move very quickly with the right motivation. And Lan Qiren methodically hunting them down was motivation enough.

“I refuse to get caught,” Nie Huaisang continued, panting, “I’ve actually bothered to put some effort into my studies this time and I refuse to return to this dump another year.”

“If we denounce ourselves now, maybe the punishment won’t be so severe,” Jiang Cheng said, like the naive soul he was.

“Where have you been these past few weeks? This is the Lan Sect. Do you honestly think they’re going to go easy on us just because we gave ourselves up? No. If Lan Qiren finds us out of bed, we’re either going to spend a great many painful hours locked up in the library writing lines or get expelled,” Nie Huaisang said, as they crept their way through Cloud Recess, “Lan Qiren didn’t see our faces; he doesn’t know it’s us. We just need to make sure he doesn’t catch us.”

This was not how Nie Huaisang had envisioned this night going. No, this night was meant to be spent staring lovingly into Jiang Cheng’s eyes, maybe even some light making-out if the mood struck them. Not this. Not sneaking around every corner and ducking behind every pillar, hoping the darkness swallowed them up and hid them from any nosy grandmasters.

Alas, the light making-out was no longer a viable plan.

Jiang Cheng continued to mutter about Nie Huaisang’s terrible ideas, but he was whispering quietly enough that Nie Huaisang allowed it.

Nie Huaisang heard the pitter-patter of footsteps nearby and dragged Jiang Cheng into the nearest conveniently placed bush, pressing his hand against Jiang Cheng’s mouth, before a shout of protest could be uttered.

Hidden amongst the underbrush, all manner of branches digging into his sides, Nie Huaisang prayed to whatever deity would listen that they remained concealed. He made sure to sound especially pathetic; that tactic usually worked on Da-ge.

Marching up the path, at a brisk pace, but not a run (never a run in the Cloud Recesses) was their pursuer, Lan Qiren. In the light of the lanterns, he appeared incensed.

Nie Huaisang kept his hand pressed against Jiang Cheng’s mouth, trying not to focus on how lovely Jiang Cheng’s back felt against his chest (he couldn’t wait for Jiang Cheng to get comfortable enough for long, lazy, and decadent cuddle sessions). Neither of them dared breath as Lan Qiren approached their hiding spot, fearing the slightest air from their lungs would alert the grandmaster to their presence.

Lan Qiren did not even glance at the conveniently placed bush, just kept on marching in the direction Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng had been heading.

They waited in silence for some time, before finally allowing their breathing to go back to normal. Nie Huaisang felt Jiang Cheng’s breath on his hand.

Reluctantly, Nie Huaisang removed his hand and unwrapped his arm from that very well-defined torso.

“Come on,” Nie Huaisang said, extracting himself from the branches, offering a hand to Jiang Cheng who took it without hesitation. “I refuse to spend the night in a bush, no matter how nice the company is.”

It was a shame it was too dark to see the blush no doubt colouring Jiang Cheng’s cheeks.

Nie Huaisang, with Jiang Cheng close behind, slunk away, in the opposite direction of Lan Qiren, turning a corner of a cabin only to abruptly step back, knocking into Jiang Cheng.

They peeked around the corner.

“How does he move so quickly?” Nie Huaisang hissed as they watched Lan Qiren—who should definitely be somewhere behind them—stride with all the vigour of a predator having caught the scent of its next meal.

“I don’t know,” Jiang Cheng hissed back, equally disturbed by Lan Qiren’s stalking abilities.

They tiptoed away, hoping beyond hope Lan Qiren would just give up. But neither of them were that lucky.

A loud crack shattered the quiet of the night, radiating out in all directions. They both froze and looked down at the broken twig under Jiang Cheng’s foot.

They looked up at each other in wide-eyed horror.

Without a word, they tiptoed away faster.

Farther off, they heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps on the pebbled path.

Nie Huaisang searched left and right for a hiding place and found none.

Until finally, he spotted a small shed, not far off.

Nie Huaisang veered towards the shed, hauling along a silently cursing Jiang Cheng.

He swung the door open. The footsteps drew closer. He threw Jiang Cheng into the dark opening and followed right behind, delicately closing the door just in time.

Jiang Cheng was stiff by his side, the type of Jiang-Cheng-stiffness usually attributed to sudden rage and/or annoyance.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. There was barely enough moonlight filtering in through the wooden roof to see Wei Wuxian—hair dishevelled, robes loose and hanging off a shoulder. He had one of his legs wrapped around Lan Zhan who was holding him up against the flimsy wall with a bruising grip on Wei Wuxian’s thigh. Lan Zhan did not have a single strand of hair out of place.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to speak. Nie Huaisang glared at him and signalled him to keep his trap shut, throwing in a few rude gestures to get his point across.

Wei Wuxian wisely closed his mouth, Lan Zhan wisely didn’t open his mouth at all, and everyone wisely stayed still and silent as the footsteps outside passed the shed.

Noone talked once the footsteps could no longer be heard, no one dared leave the shed either.

There was a very obvious hickey growing on Wei Wuxian’s neck.

It was going to be a long night.

#sangcheng #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #the untamed #mdzs #crack #I'm almost free from this challenge. Almost. I just need to hold on a little longer.#Lan Qiren is once again getting in the way of Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng's bonding time #cloud recess study arc #Honestly it feels as though I’m making Jiang Cheng blush in every story #Sangchengber #sangchengber's sangcheng month 2020 #SangChengMonth2020 #free day #I ended up with 2 ideas for day 23—Whisper—so here's the second one because I wasn't bothered to come up with a new idea

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

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Beauty & the Beast AU Prompt: Jiang Cheng is the Beast and Nie Huaisang is Belle. Lan Wangji is somehow sent to rescue Nie Huaisang but he refuses to leave - no one is making him train! He can paint and decorate fans all day long! Plus, Jiang Cheng just showed him a library with a very interesting section... Lan Wangji is getting frustrated, and it doesn't help that an annoying candle called Wei Ying keeps following him around and will. not. leave. him. alone!

“I was very beautiful when I was human, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji glares at the smiling candlestick and aggressively reshelves another book. “Indecency is forbidden,” he repeats, wishing he had a tablet of Lan sect principles at hand so he could make Wei Ying copy them down as punishment. “Vanity is a stain upon the mortal soul, and wise men eschew it. Please remember that in the future--whatever you may know of the human world as it is now, we are not all Nie Huaisang.”

Inwardly, Lan Wangji laments the fact that Nie Huaisang had been kidnapped by this beast, of all the rampaging creatures in the countryside that could have run across him. The young Nie scion has as many delicacies as he wants to eat (courtesy of the beautiful porcelain teapot that usually accompanies Wei Ying, who said she was the lady of this empty household, once upon a time) and plenty of paints and brushes and fans, not to mention a whole section of yellow leaflets in the library--which this shameless candlestick, Wei Ying, claimed to have collected himself.

“This is because I gave A-Sang my longyang books, isn’t it?” Wei Ying mourns, while Lan Wangji makes a violent choking sound and piles more cooking manuals--the ones Jiang Yanli lent him, so he could show the kitchen implements how to make his favorite foods--over the shameful scrolls before debating setting them on fire. “You haven’t even looked at me since you found out they were mine.”

Lan Wangji feels his face burn. “Perhaps,” he hisses, “I would be more inclined to look at you if you could go more than two minutes without mentioning them!”

“How can I?” Wei Ying demands. “That’s the reason you haven’t been getting along with me! We have to talk this out!”

“There is nothing to talk about,” Lan Wangji snaps. “You are--frivolous, and shameless, and talking to you makes my forehead ribbon curl.”

And it distracts me from what I’m supposed to be doing, he thinks guiltily. I should have been home with Nie Huaisang two weeks ago.

“Oh?” the candlestick says slyly. “So you don’t even want to stay and see the new portrait I’ve been working on?”

Something aches in Lan Wangji’s chest at the thought of refusing him, even though Wei Ying’s teasing is a deeper source of suffering to him than Nie Huaisang’s refusal to stop wasting time with Jiang Wanyin (current beast, and ex-crown prince) and go back home to his brother. “You may show me your portrait if you promise to behave,” he says stiffly, trying not to blush as Wei Ying leaps up to the drawn curtains in glee. “And then I must go to help the washtubs with the laundry.”

“You don’t actually need to help them, you know,” Wei Ying points out. “Our bodies aren’t human anymore. We don’t get tired.”

“Nie Huaisang and I are two of the only three people in this place who wear clothes. It would only be polite to help them.”

“Ah, that’s right!” chirps Wei Ying. “Well, just look at this portrait, and then you can go.”

He jerks on the tasseled rope fastening the curtains and capers in sheer happiness as it falls back to reveal a portrait of a young man in white robes, seated on a bench with his shimmering gown spread out on the floor around him and holding a fluffy rabbit in his lap.

The youth in the painting has a smile on his lips, and Lan Wangji feels the breath catch in his throat as he recognizes his own face represented above him in ink and brushstrokes and paper.

“Good, isn’t it?” Wei Ying preens. “What do you think, Lan Zhan?”

Lan Wangji never makes it to the laundry that day. But upon later reflection, perhaps the washtubs and irons will understand.

---

Two months later, when Nie Huaisang manages to bring the Jiang household and all its inhabitants back to their former glory, Lan Wangji discovers that Wei Ying is every bit as beautiful in his human form as he always used to claim he was.

“Now I can woo you properly,” his beloved gloats, as the two of them revel in the precious feeling of actually holding each other for the first time. “You won’t be able to resist, sweetheart! I’m never giving you back.”

“I have already been wooed,” Lan Wangji says honestly, smiling as Wei Ying throws his lovely face into his equally lovely hands and wails. “I fell in love with Wei Ying the candlestick, and I love Wei Ying as he is now. You need never do anything to keep me, for I am already yours.”

“You can’t just say things like that!” groans Wei Ying. “Have mercy on my heart! Lan Zhan!”

“I’d advise against kissing Lan-er-gongzi in the courtyard, Xianxian,” Jiang Yanli laughs, appearing in the doorway with her son Jin Ling--the ex-teacup, who liked to wake Lan Wangji up in the mornings by jumping on his back--in her arms. “Nie Mingjue’s here, and I think he might tear the manor down with the way he’s chasing poor A-Sang.”

---

(Nie Mingjue does not get the chance to tear down the manor, because his brother falls to his knees in front of him and begs to be permitted to marry Jiang Wanyin before he can really get started. But that is a story for another day.)

#wangxian #sangcheng #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #beauty and the beast au #my fic

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

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hey thank you for all your stories! it's a daily joy to read your blog. for the writing prompt, may i request xicheng for 38? thank you!!

38. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Lan Xichen only comes to slowly. His vision is swimming and even a lot of blinking does only so much for him. He closes his eyes again, counting to ten inside his head, and then opens them again.

That is better.

He isn’t in his own room, but he has been inside this room often enough to know that it’s Jiang Cheng’s couch he’s laying on.

“Fuck,” Lan Xichen mutters, and even that faint sound sparks an intense headache.

“Good, you’re awake,” Jiang Cheng says, and though he tries to sound annoyed, Lan Xichen can see how worried he was.

“What happened?” he asks, through the pounding in his head, and he’s glad when Jiang Cheng hands him a pill with a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes, please, my head is killing me,” Lan Xichen mumbles and takes the pill.

He pushes himself up, turns around so he can lean against the backrest and only then does Jiang Cheng press a glass of blessedly cool water into his hand.

“So, what happened?” Lan Xichen asks after he swallowed the pill and Jiang Cheng sits down on the table in front of him.

“You fainted--straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Lan Xichen knows he’s blushing, of course he is, but he decides to not focus on the second part of Jiang Cheng’s answer. There will be a time to freak out over this later.

“I fainted?” he asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

“You’re exhausted, Xichen. The position as CEO is killing you.”

“It’s what I was trained for,” Lan Xichen gives back, because he cannot disappoint his uncle.

He cannot.

“Maybe,” Jiang Cheng allows. “But no one ever thought you’d be a teacher on the side as well,” he says and Lan Xichen can feel how the blood drains from his face.

No one should know about that. He worked so hard to keep it a secret, even from Jiang Cheng, who knows more about him than maybe even his own brother.

“How do you--,” he starts but he can’t bring himself to finish the question.

It doesn’t matter how Jiang Cheng knows. The only thing that matters is that he probably told Lan Qiren and his uncle will be more than disappointed in Lan Xichen. He will be furious.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop it,” Jiang Cheng says and gently taps Lan Xichen on his forehead. “You’ll get wrinkles like this.”

“Did you tell my uncle?” Lan Xichen wants to know, even though he is already resigned to the answer.

“I did not,” Jiang Cheng says and then jumps when his phone rings. “No offense, but your uncle is one persistent asshole,” he conversionally tells Lan Xichen before he picks up the phone.

“What?” he snaps and Lan Xichen can hear his uncle on the other end of the line.

“Is he awake yet?” Lan Qiren asks and Jiang Cheng sends one long look at Lan Xichen, before he answers.

“No. And like I said before, I’m going to tell you when he does wake up,” Jiang Cheng tells him and then simply hangs up.

Lan Xichen can only stare.

“You just hung up on my uncle,” he mutters and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“He’s been calling me every half hour ever since he heard you fainted. He will not listen when I tell him I’ll call him once you’re awake. It gets really bothersome.”

“He’ll be angry,” Lan Xichen mumbles, because he’s been trained for this.

It should be easy for him to lead the company, no matter if he teaches for a few hours a week or not.

“He’s concerned. Worried. He already said he’s going to cut your workload, if that is what’s causing this,” Jiang Cheng tells him and Lan Xichen looks at him.

“But it’s not. It wouldn’t be so bad if I just quit teaching.”

“Why don’t you?” Jiang Cheng wants to know and Lan Xichen feels unhappy just thinking about abandoning his students.

“Because I love it. Because I love teaching, and I love my kids, and they are so eager to learn, so curious and attentive. I can do so much good by teaching them.”

“Tell that to your uncle when you finally admit to your second job,” Jiang Cheng suggests, but Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“He won’t understand.”

“He will,” Jiang Cheng says with confidence and Lan Xichen frowns at him.

“How do you know?”

“Lan Qiren knows you’ve been unhappy. He’s not stupid, you know, and he loves you. He will understand, but you have to tell him the truth. Maybe Lan Wangji can pick up a few of your duties as CEO, he’s been trained for that just as you. Share the burden, so he can continue to be in bliss with Wei Wuxian and his rabbits but you also get to teach.”

“Do you really think it’s that easy?” Lan Xichen asks and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Why wouldn’t it be. Your family loves you. They don’t want you overworked and unhappy. Together you can find a solution.”

“Together, huh?” Lan Xichen mutters and wonders if maybe this thing with Jiang Cheng could be as easy as that, too.

If only he dared to make a move.

“How’s your head?” Jiang Cheng asks and Lan Xichen nods slightly.

“Getting better,” he gives back.

“You need sleep,” Jiang Cheng tells him but Lan Xichen is barely listening.

Jiang Cheng has said that there were other ways to get his attention. Maybe--maybe Lan Xichen can dare to make a move.

“You said I don’t have to go to such extremes to get your attention,” Lan Xichen says, just barrelling through his embarrassment and Jiang Cheng seems honestly taken aback.

“Yes?”

“Does that mean I do not already have your attention?” Lan Xichen dares to ask, and he’s holding his breath until Jiang Cheng’s face goes soft with his smile.

“Xichen, you always have all of my attention,” Jiang Cheng gently tells him and Lan Xichen can feel himself blush.

It doesn’t help with his headache, but it barely matters.

“Do I?” he asks, almost under his breath, because he can barely believe this, but Jiang Cheng just cups his face in his hand.

“Yes, always. What you’re going to do with it is up to you, though,” Jiang Cheng tells him and maybe he has been waiting for Lan Xichen for a while already.

Maybe he has waited long enough.

Lan Xichen captures the hand still cupped around his cheek in his own hand, and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s palm, before he uses it to pull Jiang Cheng closer as he leans forward himself.

Their first kiss is barely more than a brush of lips, but it makes Lan Xichen bold, so he presses in again, and Jiang Cheng meets him easily.

Lan Xichen rests their foreheads together when they part and Jiang Cheng chuckles slightly when his phone goes off again.

“And now you’re going to be this brave with your uncle, too,” he says as he hands Lan Xichen the phone.

Lan Xichen stares at it for a moment before he turns his eyes back to Jiang Cheng.

“Being brave with you is easy. With him, I don’t know if I can,” Lan Xichen admits and Jiang Cheng kisses the corner of his mouth again.

“I’ll be here,” he promises. “And you’re always brave.”

Lan Xichen waits for long enough that Lan Qiren hangs up again, but he knows his uncle. He will call again.

“Okay,” he agrees, when the phone lights up again. “With you,” he says to Jiang Cheng and then he accepts the call.

It’s time to be brave and honest with his uncle too. It might even be easy, with Jiang Cheng by his side.

[Send me a pairing and a number]

#bt writes #xicheng #the untamed #mdzs #getting together #anon #bt answers #first kiss #Anonymous

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ruensroad · 5 years

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I LOVE YOUR FICS AND YOUR ART. GIVE ME SOME OF YOUR TALENT. If you're still taking requests, could you do *checks the prompt list nervously bc too many choices* either 13, 76 or 135 ??? Xicheng if you could, please please ?

Ahh, thank you so much! I’m so glad you’re enjoying everything :D

And I did Xicheng with 13 here!

This is a modern AU that I’ve had for a while, though I’m not sure if I’ll ever get around to writing it properly. Basically, Jiang Cheng comes from a family of empaths/psychics and has been cursed blessed with the strongest psychic ability in his entire family since his great-grandmother. Wei Ying - adopted because he too has some ability - convinces Jiang Cheng to use his gifts for the good of other people, so they both join the police force. Wei Ying is a medical examiner, given his gift of talking to the deceased is strongest when he’s literally talking to the dead body. In his mind, they sit up and talk to him and he can get a clue as to how they died, etc.. Jiang Cheng, who’s abilities are more far reaching and less dependent on physical remains, is a cold case detective. He takes on the case of the missing Nie Mingjue, and he quickly realizes that the man’s ghost is currently, and rather aggressively, protecting Lan Huan, a musician and artist. This takes place much farther along in the story, but honestly have fun imaging what you want! These prompts just worked too well for this AU I had to do it. ;v;

Prompt is from this list here.

Prompt 76 & 135 | “I think you need stitches.” & “Sing to me, please.” | Xicheng

“Fucking hate being right,” Jiang Cheng muttered as he slumped into the wall, ears still ringing from the close-quarter gunshot. Of all the nights to rush in without a vest… ah well, nothing to be done about that now. He was alive at the moment and functional enough to get back to where he left Lan Huan. Probably. Hopefully. That was what mattered.

(He was resolutely ignoring the way Nie Mingjue’s spirit was starting to solidify as the ghost stared at him in worry, which was never a good sign.)

“Don’t look at me like that.” Okay, so maybe he was looking. Sue him. Gasping, Jiang Cheng stumbled at the top of the stairs, grip shaking but solid enough on the rail. He was still vertical, at least. Progress. “I’m not going into the fucking light or whatever.”

I’m too pissed off to die, he didn’t say, didn’t have to, since Nie Mingjue could hear it anyway. The ghost looked more grim, but nodded once, even smiled a bit.

“That’s what I thought too. He proved me wrong.”

“No shit.” He perhaps shouldn’t waste precious energy on gesturing to a spirit’s general everything when no one could appreciate the joke but himself and the fucking dead guy. (And Wei Ying wondered why his sense of humor was so damn terrible. At least his dead people were remnants of lives, spirits, incorporeal. Wei Ying had the actual bodies to talk to which, yikes). “Fuck. Just tell me Lan Huan is safe.”

“He’s safe.” Nie Mingjue looked confident of that, which was more of a relief than it really should have been.

There had been no time between nearly being kissed and a red dot appearing on the wall between them. He didn’t know if Lan Huan had remained in the practice room, or had gone to the lobby for his brother, but as long as it was nowhere where the gunman had gone, Jiang Cheng didn’t care.

He stumbled again, this time bracing a wall with a blood slicked hand. He was losing traction and quick and blindly fumbled for his radio once it became clear to him he was not, in fact, going to make it back to Lan Huan. Feeling it broken and barely there between his fingers was hardly a surprise. Nothing had gone right today, after all. Why should this?

“Tell me he’s close,” he grit out and leaned heavily on his arm, the room starting to spin.

Nie Mingjue looked less confident that time, but remained just as determined as ever. “I’ll bring him.”

“He’s not a fucking empath, it doesn’t -” Jiang Cheng bit off a curse and lost balance, barely managing to slide down the wall instead of face planting right into the floor. The spirit was gone, disobedient as he was, which was fucking typical. “…doesn’t work like that, fucking fuck.”

Though perhaps Lan Huan had heard the gunshot, or would come looking for Jiang Cheng when he failed to return. The man was fool enough to put himself in danger like that for others. If he didn’t feel so damn fond about it all, Jiang Cheng would try to talk himself out of feeling such things for a hopeless, and rather helpless, beautiful being like Lan Huan. He’d nearly gotten the man shot today just going in to kiss him, for god’s sake. And he expected to get away with more? Ha!

His world was the unseen darkness between every human, after all. His eyes could see the demons people chained to their backs, saw the sorrow they hid behind smiles. Perhaps that was why he felt for Lan Huan the way he did - there was no mask there, not when he was with Jiang Cheng. That was what made it so hard to walk away from him too, captivating as he was, like a moth drawn into a flame after a long night in total darkness. Maybe he was just that lonely, maybe just that in love. It didn’t matter. Lan Huan didn’t belong in his world and he didn’t need some nosy ghost to argue that point at every turn.

A nosy ghost who’d actually made good on his word, somehow. He felt the impression of Nie Mingjue’s hand on his shoulder, a rush of energy sparking under his jacket, then Lan Huan was breathlessly racing up the stairs, eyes wild and frantic. When he spotted Jiang Cheng slumped against the wall he practically stumbled over himself to get there faster and more slid in front of Jiang Cheng then settled nicely. It was the most graceless he’d ever seen the man and he hated that it only made his feelings worse, damn it all.

“Detective?” A cool hand pressed to his forehead and he grunted in response, willing himself with all he had left to not burrow into Lan Huan’s welcoming touch. He had his pride.

“Pride means nothing if you’re dead,” Nie Mingjue pointed out somewhere looming over them, because of course he had something to say about this too.

You were shot in the face by the love of your life. Do I really want to take relationship advice from you?

“Point taken.”

“Detective!” Lan Huan sounded far more distraught now and Jiang Cheng realized, belatedly, that he had yet to answer him proper.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he grit out, trying to sit upright. The wound immediately pulled and he could feel the blood seeping between his fingers. At least he still had enough blood to bleed, something good to think about. “But I think he got away.”

“Who cares?” Lan Huan had gone a deathly pale, eyes wide and horror-filled at the sight of blood. Jiang Cheng was once more confronted by the knowledge this man literally knew nothing of practical matters, probably hadn’t even thought before racing up here. Useless man.

Jiang Cheng smiled at the thought, his body slowly relaxing down into something numb. “I also think I was shot,” he tried for something lighter. Well, lighter for him.

Amazingly, it got him a laugh. Hysterical on the edges, true, but there. “I’d have to agree.” Lan Huan’s hands fluttered over him, uncertain, and Jiang Cheng decided to take pity on him. Grabbing a slim wrist, he shoved Lan Huan’s hand under his jacket and over the wound, hissing between his teeth at the immediate pressure change.

“Push on it here, don’t let up,” he instructed, eyes fluttering a bit. Bad sign number two, that. With his other hand he gripped Lan Huan’s shoulder, grounding himself, and focused on staying conscious. “Do you have your phone? Call for an ambulance. Officer down.”

“I don’t,” Lan Huan whispered, voice trembling in fear. “But A-Zhan is downstairs, I believe he’s on the phone with your brother.”

Which meant the cavalry was due any minute. “Help me…” he flapped a useless hand. What were words, really? “Flat? I need to be flat. Keep pressure though.”

Lan Huan nodded curtly, but seemed far more himself with a clear goal in place. He got Jiang Cheng to the floor and propped up what Jiang Cheng instructed him to with the jacket Lan Huan literally ripped off of him. Hello strength kink, you can fuck right off.

“If you survive, you should actually accept his date,” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes.

You can fuck right off too, Jiang Cheng huffed, groaning as Lan Huan pressed into his wound again. “Fuck. Definitely was aiming for keeps, wasn’t he? Do you think I’ll live?”

Lan Huan panicked all over again, but still tried for him. Ridiculous, ludicrous man. “I think you’re going to need stitches,” he said, a trembling smile in place, and Jiang Cheng rasped a laugh. “A band-aid too. Maybe three.”

“Fuck, don’t make me laugh,” he cursed, but kept on a smile. If this was how the light found him, or hell pulled him under, there were worst ways to go. Hell, he was already looking up at an angel.

Shit, glad that wasn’t out loud.

“I’m not an angel,” Lan Huan laughed, pale but somehow sweet in his worry. “And that was out loud.”

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng closed his eyes and willed the embarrassment to die quickly. He was not spending his last breaths mortified out of his mind. Fuck that.

“But if you are dying, why not just tell him what you really feel?”

You are nosier than your brother, Jiang Cheng spat at him, but it wasn’t nearly as harsh as he wanted, and forced his eyes to blink open. It was already getting harder than it should be.

“You are though,” he said, voice wrecked, but sure. He splayed his fingers weakly and Lan Huan’s free hand gripped him tight, trembling and still so cold, and he smiled even more to feel it. “An angel, I mean. To me.”

“An angel of music?” Lan Huan was still trying. Jiang Cheng probably was dying then.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng accepted that corny angle and was pleased to see a blush overtake Lan Huan’s face, though his eyes were also filling with tears. And that… that wouldn’t do.

“I hate hospitals,” he murmured, feeling like he was drifting away, but yet tethered to where Lan Huan was holding him. “White and sterile. Beeping machines, hate those. Drive me insane.”

He did his best to grip Lan Huan’s hand back when he felt it shake, but he wasn’t sure he was successful. “Come with me?”

“I’m not leaving your side,” Lan Huan told him, all stubbornness, and for once Jiang Cheng could believe such a thing. It was a relief to hear, especially as he lost the fight against his eyelids.

Trapped in darkness, he clung tighter to that spot of cold against his hand, the soft patter of tears falling on his face.

“Beeping,” he said again, focusing hard on that particular hate. “Distract me?”

A soft sob, half laugh, half tears, and a trembling kiss pressed under his left eye. Numb as he was, he felt something in him start to fly and hoped that didn’t mean he was leaving. Not yet. “Anything you want.”

Anything. A dangerous prospect, if a simple one. He smiled and squinted best he could, wanting to see those dark eyes that had haunted him throughout this entire mad case, especially if it was the last he’d see. He managed the vague shape of Lan Huan’s handsome face, his eyes two black pools of worry, somehow warm even in their darkness. Perfect.

“Sing?” The way mother used to when she rocked him to bed. The way A-Jie did when she tucked in A-Ling, a soft kiss to his temple. The way Wei Ying danced around his kitchen with a laughing A-Yuan, singing and wild and utterly happy. “Sing for me, please?”

His mind was already slipping, his hold on the world stretched too far for him to reach anymore, all save for where Lan Huan pressed into his wound, and where his other hand wrapped around his.

Where his lips rested on his own, brief and wet and heartbreaking. “If I had my way,” he heard the words, in his own head, in his own heart, and for once had no idea where they came from, “I’d sing for you for the rest of my life.”

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