Work Text:
The door is heavy as it closes behind him, clicking shut. Wei Wuxian leans against it, if only for a moment to catch his breath, before he pushes out of his shoes. The tiled floor is cold beneath his socks, and he drags himself across it towards his bedroom. His phone is tossed to the desk, his jacket dropped onto the chair. Everything’s matching today, from his shoes to his jacket. Black swallows Wei Wuxian whole, consumes him, and at the end of the day has spit him out feeling tired and broken. All he wants to do now is sleep.
Approaching his bed, he notices the jade plant on the windowsill. Unmoving, resilient in the dark of the night. Any other potted thing brought to his apartment has always died eventually, but here this is with its green glow, full branches.
“A healthy jade plant brings good luck, you know.” She’d said.
Wei Wuxian scoffs at the memory, yet something gets stuck in his throat. Tears begin to well. He makes it to his bed, and despite his exhaustion sleep refuses to claim him. Rain pelts against his window, the cool breeze drifting through the tiny gap he left open. The jade plant stares back at him. Wei Wuxian shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to forget everything.
Two weeks pass. At least, he thinks it must’ve been a while now that the bunches of flowers scattered across his desk are wilting. Wei Wuxian finds his apron, his umbrella, and takes one last look at his room. The jade plant watches, and he stares back. He opens the umbrella out of spite and carries himself outside. There, the streets are filled with people and in no time he’s taken by the crowd. The sun is shining but Wei Wuxian keeps his umbrella open. The people who pass him by don’t care for him as much as he doesn’t care for them, so to worry about the opinions of such strangers would be a waste of his energy.
The restaurant bell rings as he enters, and like Wei Wuxian’s done a hundred or so times before he takes himself to the bar. His belongings go in the staff cupboard, he signs in for his shift, and he ties on his apron. Wei Wuxian breathes. This is fine. This is simple.
“Wei Ying.”
He jumps at the voice. Wei Wuxian’s co-worker, and arguably the human closest resembling a friend, greets him as usual. Lan Wangji is as poised as he is hardworking, having claimed the manager position in less than a month. For someone more laidback like Wei Wuxian, such an uptight personality should be suffocating. And yet.
“Hey, Lan Zhan.” He flashes the manager a smile. His head hurts. He ignores it. “What’s the go for tonight?”
“Same as always.”
Lan Wangji picks up a wine glass, and begins polishing it for what Wei Wuxian senses may be the third time now. He’s never trusted the day staff.
“Hm... Okay.”
Wei Wuxian wants to continue the conversation like they usually do (with him chatting about nonsense and Lan Wangji patiently tolerating him) but finds himself astonishingly lost for words. The restaurant has always felt like another home. Right now, he’s not quite sure what it is.
“I’ve... been thinking.” Lan Wangji contributes after a pause, finally leaving the poor glasses alone. “Tomorrow. Would you like to... Come over?”
Wei Wuxian frowns. “What about work?”
“Nie Huaisang will cover your shift.”
Wei Wuxian feels a brief moment of temptation, then pulls himself back. He needs the money. He needs to keep busy. If he stops moving, his brain will take him places he doesn’t want to go right now.
“No, I’m okay.” He tries to shake off whatever hangs on his shoulders. “As if Nie Huaisang could handle the Friday rush, anyway.”
“Mm.”
Wei Wuxian smiles, yet he feels Lan Wangji’s stare on him every now and then during the rest of the shift. Something like concern, maybe. He’s sick of people being concerned about him, when he’s doing just fine. Wei Wuxian greets the new customers and cracks the usual jokes with the regulars. He clears the tables of glasses and plates and carries them to the kitchen no matter how heavy it gets.
By the time the restaurant closes it’s raining. It’s inconvenient, but Wei Wuxian welcomes the chill once he’s outside. The air is fresh, and the prickling at his neck isn’t unpleasant. Cars drive by, and he likes the whooshing sound they make as they zoom through puddles. There’s nowhere near as many people out now as there were earlier, the streets dark except for the glowing store signs and streetlamps. The night welcomes him in a peaceful, unexpecting way they the rush of the day never could.
“Cute umbrella.” Lan Wangji comments from beside him.
They begin walking towards Wei Wuxian’s apartment. He looks up at the umbrella, the bright red with white dots, only now noticing he’d picked up the wrong one.
“It’s Yanli’s.” He says, knowing the other man well enough to recognise his curiosity. “She’s always liked the childish stuff. This is actually one of her more… Subdued items.”
“Mm… And you’re too cool for all that?” Lan Wangji inquires, the slight quirk in his brow giving away the subtle joke. All of a sudden Wei Wuxian remembers he’s talking to someone who has far too much knowledge on his less elegant moments.
He chuckles, choosing not to answer, and steps closer to him to avoid a puddle. Their shoulders brush.
Wei Wuxian talks the rest of the way, the rest of the world too busy sleeping or partying or minding their own business. Lan Wangji leaves him at the apartment complex and walks back the way they came. Wei Wuxian watches his back as he goes, and his heart feels lighter. He suddenly realises it was foolish not to offer him the umbrella, even knowing he would’ve declined. Lan Wangji, so selfless. Wei Wuxian, so unable to give the friendship he deserves. By the time he reaches his apartment his legs ache, his head spins, and his heart hits the bottom of his ribcage with a thud.
When Wei Wuxian’s eyes open the next morning, they’re drawn to the windowsill. An orange glow seeps in, splashing on the walls and turning his white bedsheets peach. The jade plant, a silhouette against the sky, gradually stretches its shadow until if he stretched out his arm the leaves would touch his fingertips. Wei Wuxian doesn’t have the strength to reach out. He doesn’t want to leave his bed. His head hurts and he wonders if he has the flu or something. It’s too hard to tell. The sunrise clears and the sky fades to grey, clouds covering any hint of blue.
He messages Nie Huaisang and asks him to cover his shift. He’s too sick, he says. A sudden serious cold, a migraine. The next day Wei Wuxian calls the head manager, then the next day, rinse and repeat. Wei Wuxian will be fine, once this sickness goes away. It must be all the rain that caused it, the damned cold weather. He takes a week off. It’s too much effort to cook, so he eats whatever requires little to no effort until there’s nothing to eat. He should do the groceries, and he should answer the messages from his friends. Should, could, won’t. Because of it, he only feels worse.
There’s a knock at his door one day, and the sound of it entirely throws Wei Wuxian off. Checking his reflection only out of habit, he blinks slowly at the pale face that stares back. Oh well, good enough. And that was that.
When he opens the door, it’s Lan Wangji who stands at the other side of it.
“You weren’t answering my calls.” Despite it he seems unoffended, holding up a plastic bag. “Medicine.”
Wei Wuxian hesitates, then steps aside to let him in. However unbothered Lan Wangji may appear, he has an inkling he’d be willing to fight his way inside, and Wei Wuxian really doesn’t have the energy today.
“Hi.” He replies lamely, closing the door behind him. “You didn’t have to…”
“You were right. Nie Huaisang is incompetent.” Lan Wangji is already settling into the tiny kitchen, setting his bag of tricks aside and boiling the kettle. “Go back to bed.”
“But I—”
“Go. Now.”
Reluctantly, Wei Wuxian takes himself back to bed and waits for Lan Wangji. He comes to him with a steaming mug, and he accepts it with both hands. The pale yellow liquid paired with the smell of medicine makes him wince, but the warmth is welcoming.
“You need to treat a cold, or you won’t get any better.” Lan Wangji takes a seat on the edge of the bed, with a disapproving tug between his brows.
“Nah, it’ll be alright.” He blows softly into the mug, cooling it. Wei Wuxian gestures towards the sad flowers on his desk. “Everything in here dies eventually.”
Lan Wangji is silent, then makes a pointed stare at the windowsill.
Wei Wuxian follows his gaze, towards the jade plant. “That one’s stubborn.”
“Yanli gave you this.” he knows too much. “After your parents passed.”
Wei Wuxian sips at his drink, pushing away the weight in his chest. “It’s a useless plant.”
So much for good luck.
“You say you don't care, but it wouldn’t be alive if you didn’t keep watering it.”
As if they’ve traded places, Wei Wuxian can only hum in response.
Lan Wangji continues. “You need to look after yourself. And if it’s too hard, ask someone. Ask me.”
They may be good friends now, after months of Wei Wuxian pestering Lan Wangji into treating him less like a co-worker, yet it feels strange to have him here. Seeing him like this. If only to take them away from whatever this all means, Wei Wuxian wishes he could rediscover his ability to talk. Change the subject. Because now Lan Wangji is the one doing the talking and his concern is overwhelming.
“I’m fine.” Wei Wuxian breathes.
“You aren’t."
Wei Wuxian doesn’t understand why, or how, tears suddenly prick at his eyes. It’s unfair. He hadn’t been planning on crying, he doesn’t want to cry. He’s tired of feeling sad. Yet everything comes up without his command. A sob escapes him, then the tears begin to spill, and his shoulders start to shake. Lan Wangji puts a hand on his knee. Wei Wuxian wants to push him away, yell at him to leave. But he can’t.
“You’ve been holding it in.” an observation, and a gentle reminder. “Give yourself time.”
Time doesn’t heal all wounds. Grief can’t be fixed with time in the same way it can’t be set aside to deal with later. Wei Wuxian knows this. He’s practiced at it by now. Losing his adoptive parents, then losing his sister. It isn’t fair. None of this is. No words can explain how much it hurts.
“I… I miss her.” It isn’t enough.
“It’s not the same...” Lan Wangji shuffles closer, his hand moving to his shoulder. “But I miss her too.”
“Y-yeah.” Wei Wuxian sniffles, and drinks the medicine as if to still blame it on the cold. “She f-fucking loves you… Prefers you over me.”
Lan Wangji pulls some tissues from his pocket to gently dab away the tears from his cheeks. The tenderness is soothing, almost distracting from the conversation. “She doesn’t.”
“She did say you’d make the perfect brother-in-law.” Wei Wuxian grins, with what has always been a tease to fluster the other male sounding a little more sincere this time.
It hurts so much. Wei Wuxian just wants to let go, and he does. All the pain seeps out with his tears, all the anger and the loneliness and the fear. Lan Wangji takes the mug from him, setting it on the bedside table. He moves to the space beside him, and Wei Wuxian leans into his side. Wei Wuxian cries, and cries. Then he stops, and they murmur some things between them, and he cries again. And Lan Wangji listens. And it’s okay, Wei Wuxian’s allowed to share his grief with him.
There’s no moving on. Simply existing, taking each day as it comes.
The jade plant hasn’t moved since Yanli placed it on his windowsill. If someone were to pick the pot up, there’d be a dust-free circle underneath. One day, Wei Wuxian spots a cluster of white poking out between a couple of leaves.
Flowers bloom.