Work Text:
Wei Ying had gone by many names in his measly twenty-seven years of existence. It would therefore not be a stretch to assume that Lan Wangji could not know all of them. So, he thought nothing of it when he noted the announcer, one of the bartenders (the gangly one with a smile permanently stuck to his face) introducing one Mo Xuanyu as the next and last singer of the night. By the cheers of the crowd in the club (Nie Huaisang insisted it was a lounge, “One of the best ones Da-ge” he had said so passionately when he invited, read dragged, them here) meant that the singer was actually a big deal, at least to this impressive crowd. It was an impressive crowd, for a Thursday night. Lan Wangji had been zoning out for majority of the night, clubs (lounges) were really not his scene. He watched his brother throw him a concerned look, the thirtieth of the night, sue him he had been counting.
Previously, Lan Wangji only went occasionally to clubs, or anything adjacent, and that too only to accompany Wei Ying. Mostly to celebrate one achievement or another among their friend group (Wei Yings friends who accepted him into the fold when Wei Ying had one day just turned up with him in tow, after a crazy lab). Most of the time, Lan Zhan only went to such places to pick up his husband (ex-husband, he should really get used to it considering he had another, currently sitting beside him) at the end of the night. It has been one of his favourite things to do as Wei Ying’s husband (who was he kidding, everything he did as Wei Ying’s husband was his favourite). It had been one of the few reasons he liked to stay up past the designated Lan bed time (all other reasons were Wei Ying centred, coincidentally).
It was usually from a phone call, either from Wei Ying himself, when he was just slightly drunk. Wei Ying had not liked calling him, said it was unnecessary to bother him so. It had been one of their earliest fights, the fact that Wei Ying hated needing anyone, if only because he viewed all help as a debt. And Lan Zhan who just wanted to be needed by Wei Ying, to be everything to him. They had compromised. Seeing as Lan Zhan could not sleep until he was home, he was allowed to pick him up. In exchange, Wei Ying only raised minimal complain.
Sometimes the call came from one of Wei Ying’s friends, mostly Luo Qingyang. This was when Wei Ying was unsteady, slurring and a few sheets to the wind, almost passing out. Lan Zhan always had his keys ready, fully dressed reading on the couch, when the call came. It would not take long to reach their chosen dive for the night. He’d walk in the place, looking through the booths for one where his beloved was, usually leaning on the table, or not in sight at all, laying on either Luo Qingyang’s lap or Huaisang’s.
He always looked so cutely forlorn, while his friends watched him, with varying degrees of judgment on their faces. He would walk closer to the sound of his husband going on about how he missed him, how perfect his husband was, and on one memorable occasion, he had been waxing poetic about Lan Zhan’s nose. When their eyes met, Wei Ying’s eyes would light up, face quickly following along. The smile was so wide, it looked like it hurt and caused Lan Wangji’s heart to skip a bit, like it always did. In those moments, Lan Wangji would think that he needed to get himself checked out, that could not be normal.
Lan Wangji was pulled away from the reverie to the feel of his husband’s large warm hand on his. He turned to look at him, only to notice the shocked and crumpled face Nie Mingjue adorned, eyes caught on the stage behind them. A soft piano strain had started, the beginning of a song Lan Wangji recognized but could not quite put a finger on it at the moment. He looked around to note that their entire booth had gone silent, dawning horror in all their faces. The only face not transfixed on the stage was Xichen-ge’s, who was looking at him like a trainwreck was about to happen. Lan Wangji was confused and was turning to look towards what caused A-Jue’s shock when he heard it...
Did I disappoint you, or let you down
Should I be feeling guilty, or let the judges frown...
It was Wei Ying; it could not be. He turned his head so fast, he had to pause for a second to let the head rush run through. It could not be. But then there he was. Wei Ying. Whom he had not seen since that fateful day, two years ago, across from him on the board room table. Tears sliding down his cheek as he pushed the signed divorce papers towards him. Lan Wangji watched in shock as his Wei Ying sat there on a bar stool on the stage, eyes closed, angelic voice ringing clear as he sang the slow sad song.
His hair was longer than he remembered, tied back away from his face in a bun, with some strands escaping to frame his beautiful face. He looked pale, gaunt, with bruises under his eyes from probably exhaustion. He looked thinner than he remembered too, dressed in all black, black jeans, black turtle neck. He still looked beautiful, looked just like how he always did, except more tired. His eyes remained closed through the entire song. Lan Wangji could not look away. He had dreamt of this moment, imagined it almost every day since the divorce. When he would see Wei Ying again. What he would say to him. Now he just looked, looked and drunk him in. He felt drunk on this feeling he could not quite name.
I am here for you if you’d only care
You touched my heart you touched my soul
You changed my life and all my goals
And love is blind but that I knew when
My heart was blinded by you
I’ve kissed you lips and held your hand
I’ve shared your dreams and shared your bed
I know you well I know your smell
I’ve been addicted to you
Goodbye my lover...
Lan Wangji was transfixed, listening to him, watching him, wondering. He had spent a time looking for Wei Ying after the mess, but he could never find him. Wei Ying had left everything in their home, not taking even an article of clothing. After obsessively looking around for it, a few weeks after the divorce, Lan Wangji realized that the only thing Wei Ying had taken had been their chest. The chest of their memories, everything they had of value had been in that small chest, the jewellery they had gifted each other, the drawings Wei Ying had made for him, the letters they had sent each other in one of their bouts of cliche, corny tooth-rotting phases. Lan Wangji had wanted to be angry but he could not be angry at Wei Ying. Not for this. Not for carrying a piece of them with him.
“A-Zhan,” Mingjue said, watching where their hands were clasped tightly around each other. The grip hurt but none of them could let go. Everyone else on the table had turned to look at them. Look at him. Lan Zhan could not look away. He could not see anything other then Wei Ying on that stage. Looking like time had stopped running. Like the three years had been a dream. Like he was still his.
And I still hold your hand in mine, in mine when I’m asleep
And I will bear my soul in time, when I’m kneeling at your feet.
At the beat drop, Wei Ying opened his eyes, those magnificent silver eyes glinting at the harsh stage lights. The room was dimly lit. Lan Zhan knew that Wei Ying could not see him. Could not see any of them, not with how bright the stage lights were in comparison. Still, he looked. Not knowing whether he was dreading being seen or hoping for Wei Ying to notice him.
Lan Zhan looked back at the table when the final piano strains fell silent, the song ending. He took a breath meeting his husband’s brown eyes first. A-jue looked at him, raw emotion, fear and hurt shining through his eyes. Lan Zhan did not know what his face held. He had no interest in finding out. He squeezed his husband’s hand, knowing that they were in this together.
They were both madly in love with the man on stage. It had been what had drawn them together, their utter devotion for this one amazing, incredible man. Lan Zhan had seen the same hurt on A-jue’s face at the dinner in his brother’s home a month after the divorce. How Mingjue had rubbed his back when he had run to the balcony, unable to hold back the tears. They had spent that night together, reminiscing on everything Wei Ying, the parts of his that absolutely destroyed them. This had been the first of many. It had been how they bonded, loving Wei Ying, it had been their window to each other, the doors to their hearts firmly shut. In loving Wei Ying, they came to love each other, first by loving every aspect that was in love with Wei Ying, then every part of them that was not, the little that wasn’t. Then just loving each other.
“Lan Wangji, I’m so sorry. I had .. I had no idea,” Huaisang was profusely apologizing when Lan Zhan finally logged onto the conversation around the table. He too looked stupefied, like it was the first time he was seeing Wei Ying as well. Lan Zhan had held that thought, if only for a while, that Wei Ying had kept in touch with everyone in their lives apart from him. It had been quickly extinguished with the way all their friends’ faces dropped when they saw each other, the way they looked at his side, hoping to see someone who was no longer there.