Second Time Around

6. Midnight Confessions

It was late, almost midnight, by the time Wei WuXian left the library to find his bed. He felt more than slightly guilty; this was his first day of being A’Yuan’s father and already ShiJie was being more of a mother to the poor child than he was being a father. She had fed him, bathed him, and put a pallet on the floor of her room for him to sleep on. 

Apparently the day was not over; Lan WangJi stood outside Wei WuXian’s room. Wei WuXian’s hands fisted at the sight of the splash of white in the dark. “Wei Ying,” Lan WangJi called softly. 

“No!” Wei WuXian hissed back, anger rising in his chest. “No, HanGuang-Jun. You are not permitted to use my birth name. My friends can use my birth name. You and I? We’re not friends. We’ve never been friends.” He wanted to punch something. All those years of trying and trying to make this jade think favorably of him. Wasted efforts. Stones don’t have friends. Throw yourself at a rock enough times, and either you’re going to break or it will. Jade was brittle, so it was supposed to be Lan Zhan who broke first. Apparently human jades were stronger than the stones. Wei WuXian found himself feeling as if his heart was cracking open. It hurt to lose a friend like this. “My friends would ask me about A’Yuan before running off to tattle to their older brothers that I dishonored a woman, left her pregnant, and then only took responsibility for our child because she was dead!” That was the only explanation for the sect leaders’ accusations. Wasn’t it? He pulled the ends of his hair, hoping the pain would calm him down; it didn’t. “Even Jin ZiXuan knew A’Yuan wasn’t my biological son! 

“How is it that a man who cannot stand to be in the same room as me knows me better than someone who I called friend? Did you ever consider me as something more important to you than a stain to be wiped from your boots?” His other hand fisted so hard, his fingernails were cutting bloody crescents into his palm. “My friends know me well enough to know that I would never dishonor a woman. If I ever wanted one, loved one, enough to lie with her, I’d marry her first. My friends know me well enough that they’d know if I was married, if I had a child with her. Because they’d be all I ever talk about; they’d be living in my home. And I sure as Hell would have beaten up anyone who tried to kiss me!” To emphasize his point, he slammed his fist into the doorframe. It hurt; it felt so satisfying. Not as satisfying as punching his fist through Lan WangJi’s nose would be, but a close second. Not that he could punch his fist through anyone’s nose anymore. He winced and flicked his hand back and forth trying to shake the pain away. “No. We’re not friends. And we never were. Go away, Lan WangJi. Go back to your books and your rules. Leave me and my son alone.”

He entered his room, feeling his cheeks getting wet. Why am I crying? He angrily swiped at each cheek. His door slid shut behind him, and a voice spoke softly in the darkness. “Lan WangJi did not accuse Wei WuXian of dishonoring a woman. I… I asked XiongZhang to punish me. He asked why. I… told him what I thought was the truth. That I dishonored you and your wife back in Koi Tower.” 

There was a hand on his shoulder pushing him back until his head hit the wall. “What?” was all he could say before he was being kissed again. Touching in two places, the mouth and the shoulder, was not enough. Wei WuXian reached up with one hand to press lightly against Lan Zhan’s chest, felt the other’s heart beating rapidly under his palm. He made some sort of unintelligible noise: of need, of want, a request for more? Whatever the noise meant, it worked. It drew Lan Zhan in closer, so close their chests were moving in counterpoint against each other. Hands wrapped around waists, slid up backs, nestled into the fine hairs at the nape of their necks. 

Lips sliding against each other. It should be wierd; it was addicting. It felt as if he was finally a whole being. Then those lips were pressing his apart, a tongue pressing against his teeth. He felt light headed. From a lack of breathing? Was he even breathing? He deliberately inhaled through his nose: sandlewood and sweat. And, oh fuck, Lan Zhan’s tongue was in his mouth again, and his brain whited out.