Work Text:
In a world where displaying the wings on a cultivator's back is the highest symbol of pride and power, Wei Wuxian learns to completely hide his own when he is but a child, lost in the streets of Yiling. The wings are just another food source for the dogs, and Wei Wuxian does not have the strength to fight off those beasts as their canines sink into flesh, ripping out clumps of feathers.
It takes months of Jiang Yanli's soft coaxing, Jiang Cheng's gruff concern and both of their unwavering support, before Wei Wuxian is comfortable enough to let his wings flare out for even small periods of time. Wei Wuxian takes to learning to fly at night, with Jiang Cheng by his side, the silent darkness soothing his instinctual nerves. It also helps that Jiang Yanli watches over them both, holding a paper lantern as she stands on the docks. The people of Lotus Pier keep the secret of their night-time activities, everyone glad to hear the sound of bright laughter echoing over the water, even as they pretend to be oblivious.
Jiang Fengmian just smiles at them while Yu Ziyuan sniffs haughtily before turning away. But she doesn't mention their nighttime flying, nor does Zidian make an appearance, so they decide to take it as her grudging approval.
As Wei Wuxian slowly, ever so slowly, starts to consider Lotus Pier as his home, streaks of purple start to appear over his primary feathers. Of course, he doesn’t notice it immediately; nobody does. He is still not comfortable enough to display his wings in front of other people. But, in the quiet of the night, in the privacy of their rooms, the three siblings gather together to groom their wings, with careful hands and soft words. Jiang Yanli catches sight of the colour first, a gasp escaping her and alerting Jiang Cheng, who peeks over from where he’s combing through his sister’s wings. There are overwhelmed tears and soft, shy smiles and encouraging grins and warm hugs that night.
Later, much later, before going to Cloud Recesses, when Jiang Fengmian calls the three siblings in to inform them about their travel and Yu Ziyuan warns them to behave, Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng stand together, their wings flared behind them, easily accommodating the others’ and slotting into place, the characteristic purple across all of their primaries merging together to form a beautifully abstract pattern. When the three of them bow and walk away, behind them, Yu Ziyuan observes the very same pattern that spreads across their wings, complete on its own and yet, perfectly fitting together as a greater whole, and smirks, fierce and sharp.
Gazing up at the looming mist-covered mountains of Gusu, Wei Wuxian admired the way the clouds rested on the mountain peaks. He felt the presence of his siblings on either side of him, their wings adjusting automatically to cover each other. He knew what thought ran through their minds because it was the same thing he was thinking too: so much space to fly.
Lan Wangji holds his wings so stiffly, ensuring that they never encroach upon another’s space. He is so very careful with them and when there is even the slightest possibility that it might disturb others, he hides his wings without any hesitation. People call him humble; Wei Wuxian thinks wary.
Wei Wuxian observes how Lan Wangji walks the pathways in Cloud Recesses alone, his wide white wings with sky-blue primary feathers sweeping behind him. He notices how Lan Wangji pulls his wings in, within his core, easily without any discomfort, as though he has done it a million times before.
(Jiang Cheng asked him once, when they were younger, in the cover of darkness, curiosity evident in his tone, how could you just pull them in, how could you bear to do it and Wei Wuxian had questioned him back, what do you mean, can’t you, can’t anyone else?
That was the day Wei Wuxian had learnt that no, not everyone could bear to hide their wings away, that hiding the wings required a staggering level of control because it hurt to do so.)
Wings, Wei Wuxian knows, are an expression of yourself. When your face hides your emotions, when even your eyes are trained to be blank instead of mirroring your feelings, your wings will always rustle and twitch to showcase your true thoughts.
However, Lan Wangji’s wings are, in a word, efficient. They are absolutely still unless Lan Wangji needs them. Wei Wuxian has seen how Lan Wangji uses his wings to power his lifts when sparring; but even then, every motion is carefully calculated, no movement wasted.
Wei Wuxian remembers how his own wings almost constantly twitch, restless. He thinks of how children are supposed to bounce around the place, getting their feathers tangled, and how the level of control Lan Wangji has achieved over his wings wouldn’t have looked out of place had he been decades older than he actually was. A curious sort of sadness fills him as he pictures a young child in Lan robes and forehead ribbon, with wings that are expressive.
Lan Zhan! He calls, his usually bright smile even brighter at the sight of the other boy.
He teases Lan Wangji, pokes at him, annoys him and all the while, he wishes he could see at least one flutter of his wings. He calls out Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, look at me, Lan Zhan and every unheeded call makes his own wings droop.
(Wei Wuxian does not notice an intense golden gaze following him, tracing the lines of his drooping wings. He doesn’t notice how Lan Wangji’s wings shudder, just the slightest bit, every time he smiles, wide and open, at the other boy. He doesn’t see Lan Wangji clenching his fists in an effort to control himself. He doesn't know how Lan Wangji’s wings reach for him, yearning to pull him into their hold, before forcefully snapping back into place.)
Jiang Cheng shoves at him and says, stop bothering him, you menace.
Jiang Yanli pats him on the head and asks, simple and unassuming, why. Wei Wuxian knows, in the way only siblings—who are so close that they might as well be one soul in three bodies—know, that she means, why him, how is he different, what is it about him that has you orbiting around him?
And Wei Wuxian, struggling to put this huge mess of emotions in his chest into words, his wings moving agitatedly behind him, deigning to calm down only when his siblings soothe their hands over them, flounders and shrugs and says, finally, no one should be alone.
Just as Gusu Lan’s forehead ribbons are sacred, so is the act of flying. Even though cultivators sometimes fly for the sake of travel when their energy is so depleted and they're unable to maneuver their swords, the act of flying leisurely is a deeply intimate act when shared with someone else. Only when in the skies does a person understand their own self. And when one flies with their family or someone dear to them, they share their very sense of self with the other.
Wei Wuxian, when he is not swooping along the air currents by himself, only ever flies with Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. They would loop around each other, racing and gliding, going higher and higher, farther and farther, and yet, always circling back to each other and to Lotus Pier, to home.
In Cloud Recesses, Jiang Yanli requests permission from Lan Xichen for the three of them to stretch their wings, which he gladly gives. It is during one of their flights over the vast forests and heavy clouds that Wei Wuxian catches sight of a figure in white, in a meadow of gentians. He hovers in the air, letting the wind buoy him up, and observes as Lan Wangji grooms himself meticulously, his wings spread across the ground in front of him.
Alone.
When Jiang Cheng hollers at him to catch up already, you slowpoke, Wei Wuxian laughs and chases his brother even as their sister keeps pace with them effortlessly. In the back of his mind, thoughts spin like galaxies around the universe.
Lan-er-gege, Wei Wuxian calls out casually, when they’re in the library. We should go flying sometime.
Shameless, is the irritated answer and Wei Wuxian throws his head back as he laughs.
Second Young Master Lan, Wei Wuxian grins, sidling up to Lan Wangji as they leave the room after the lecture, won’t you go flying with me?
Lan Wangji glares at him and stalks away, his ears burning red, his wings held so stiffly at his back.
How do two people who only ever look at each other manage to miss the other looking back, just as intensely, just as captivated, just as full of yearning?
A mystery for the ages, indeed.
It comes to a head one day when Wei Wuxian walks off the path, into the forest. He tells himself he is just wandering, with no set destination in his mind. He tells himself, even as his feet take him in a particular direction, that he is just exploring aimlessly. And when he stumbles upon the same meadow he saw during his flights, occupied by the same figure in white, he tells himself that it is completely by accident. His wings shiver in anticipation.
A branch breaks under his feet and Lan Wangji freezes, hand going to Bichen.
Wei Wuxian steps forward deliberately, hands spread in front of him in a pacifying gesture, catching Lan Wangji’s wide eyes. The Second Jade of Lan does not appear very jade-like, Wei Wuxian thinks, eyes roving over the soft lips parted in surprise, the faintest flush climbing over his cheeks, golden eyes narrowing in wariness.
Dropping to his knees by Lan Wangji’s side, Wei Wuxian notices as Lan Wangji’s hands clench over Bichen’s hilt, the usually still wings minutely rustling in unease. He places Suibian to the side and keeps his empty hands in his lap, even though all he wants is to reach out to touch, to smooth out the furrow between the other’s eyebrows, to glide a soothing hand over the snow-white feathers.
Lan Zhan, he says, voice almost a whisper.
May I? He asks, gesturing gently towards the wing Lan Wangji still has spread over his lap. He does not smile, does not laugh, does not tease as he is usually wont to do. No, Wei Wuxian just looks at Lan Wangji, patiently and without any expectations.
He wouldn’t be disappointed, he tells himself, if Lan Wangji tells him to get lost. Wei Wuxian knows that he is asking for something far greater than just Lan Wangji’s attention. After all, only family and dearly loved ones ever groom each other’s wings. It is a privilege of the highest order to be trusted to groom someone’s wings; a person offering their wings to another strongly implies that they trust the other to take care of them, to not hurt them.
Maybe that is why Lan Wangji, after gazing at the other for a long moment, decides to carefully, cautiously, place his wing on Wei Wuxian’s lap. Because, for once, Wei Wuxian was completely and utterly sincere.
(It is a rare moment of weakness.
Lan Wangji misses his brother, who has been busy with Sect duties for weeks together, and he is so very tired of being alone. He tires of fending off this boy with the sunshine-bright smile and happy eyes, when all he wants to do is give in and let the other’s warmth wash over him, wants to look at those silver eyes sparkling as he chatters away about everything and nothing, wants to let the other tug at him and drag him wherever he wants. He wants Wei Wuxian to keep smiling at him.
He had never recognised loneliness until he came face-to-face with a cheerful hurricane in human form.
It is a moment of weakness that makes Lan Wangji give in, all his walls falling away in an instant, and place a vulnerable wing in Wei Wuxian’s lap.)
Wei Wuxian lays a gentle hand on the wing and Lan Wangji flinches. It's minute, instinctual, and Lan Wangji controls it the next second, his face blank and his lips pursed, with only his eyes showing the turmoil he is in.
Wei Wuxian waits, endlessly patient.
Lan Wangji cuts his eyes away and, inch by inch, relaxes. Wei Wuxian is reminded of creatures that have been so used to being wary their entire lives that the first sign of kindness throws them into disarray, snarling and disturbed. A band tightens around Wei Wuxian's heart at the thought of this beautiful boy being deprived of kindness and love and affection. A part of him wants to pick up Suibian and march to Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, to demand how dare they-
Wei Wuxian takes in a long, calming breath and starts to card his fingers slowly, ever so slowly, through Lan Wangji's wing feathers. Every movement is underscored with overwhelming care and gentleness, as though he is handling something very precious; and it is precious in a way wealth cannot compare to. Wei Wuxian holds Lan Wangji's fragile trust in his hands and he knows that nothing in heaven or on earth could be equal to that.
Tranquil silence surrounds them, broken only by bird chirps and the whisper of wind through the trees.
When Wei Wuxian has finished grooming one of Lan Wangji's wings, he doesn't gesture towards the other wing. He notes the way Lan Wangji has his fingers clenched into fists, sees the indecisive way he glances at Wei Wuxian and away, again and again, and Wei Wuxian decides not to push the other into something he is not ready for.
Instead, he carefully places the wing on the ground, gives one last caress, delighting in the way a shiver runs through the wing, and stands up. He smiles, wide and happy, at Lan Wangji.
See you, Lan Zhan, he says, softly, not wanting to break the spell around them. He picks up Suibian and walks away, leaving behind Lan Wangji, who gazes at his disappearing form and the large silvery grey wings that spread behind him with dark eyes full of gratitude and soft yearning, wanting desperately to call the other back but, at the same time, afraid to do so.
Shijie, Wei Wuxian says, in the comforting quiet, fingers automatically grooming Jiang Cheng’s wings as his own are taken care of by Jiang Yanli. Jiang Cheng handles Jiang Yanli’s wings with a level of care he never shows to anything else. It’s only them, the three siblings, alone, on one of the grassy hills behind the guest quarters. The wind rustles their hair, tugging on their clothes and ribbons playfully. They sit, as they always have, in a way that allows them to groom one another.
Shijie, Wei Wuxian hesitates. Jiang Cheng frowns at his brother, concern in his gaze. Jiang Yanli waits, patient.
Why does a person like another? He asks, finally, keeping his eyes on the wings in front of him. He sees, out of the corners of his eyes, his brother exchanging glances with their sister.
Does XianXian have someone he likes? Jiang Yanli asks, affection threaded through her voice. Jiang Cheng muffles a cough.
Wei Wuxian does not reply right away, his thoughts filling with pale blue robes, white forehead ribbon, golden eyes, and beautiful, white wings streaked with sky-blue.
In the jingshi, two brothers sit, enjoying each other’s presence.
Lan Xichen looks at his little brother apologetically.
Sorry, Wangji, he says, I was unable to be with you for nearly a month. May I groom your feathers?
Lan Wangji flushes, keeping his eyes down, and extends one partially-groomed wing. Lan Xichen carefully tucks the feathers in order, smoothing them out where Lan Wangji was unable to reach. Once it was done, he waited for his little brother to extend the other wing.
Lan Wangji didn’t.
Wangji? Lan Xichen asks, subtly encouraging.
Lan Wangji takes an unobtrusively deep breath before showing his brother the perfectly groomed wing. His ears are completely red now.
Lan Xichen looks between the wing, carefully and diligently taken care of, and his mortified little brother, and smiles wider than he has in a long, long while.
The second time Wei Wuxian comes to the meadow, Lan Wangji is there. A tension that he wasn’t aware of flows out of him at the sight of the bright, beaming grin.
This time, Wei Wuxian sits and Lan Wangji offers his wings with only the slightest hint of hesitation.
As gentle fingers work, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and composes a song in his mind, notes flowing naturally and freely, longing and affection given form.
Lan Wangji waits, tense, every day for Wei Wuxian to spill the truth to his friends, for others to look at him with knowing eyes and teasing looks, for laughter at his expense.
Nothing happens and slowly, he relaxes.
The fifth time they meet in the meadow, Lan Wangji hums the song, the music given life, the notes taking flight around them, the ebbs and flows of Lan Wangji’s heart given voice.
Wei Wuxian pauses and listens.
The next day, when Lan Wangji hums, Wei Wuxian joins in. Their voices twine together and Lan Wangji’s heart stutters, and then gallops in his chest. His ears feel hot and yet, there’s a warmth in his veins where before there was only ice.
Won’t you play it for me, Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian asks, once, his fingers playing with the ends of Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon that fluttered in the wind.
Lan Wangji brings his guqin the next time.
One day, when Wei Wuxian is kneeling behind Lan Wangji to smooth out the feathers near the wing joints, Lan Wangji leans, subconsciously, into the reassuring presence. The sound of Wei Wuxian humming their song, the gentle fingers in his wings, and the overwhelming sense of security of the moment lull Lan Wangji into sleep.
Wei Wuxian freezes, for a moment, as Lan Wangji rests against him. Then, he sits in a way that would be comfortable for the other. As minutes pass, he wraps one hand around the sleeping boy and slowly runs the fingers of his other hand through Lan Wangji’s hair, mindful to not tug at the forehead ribbon no matter how much he wants to. He continues to hum, oddly peaceful, when usually sitting in one place for a long time makes him jittery. He thinks he could get used to this: Lan Wangji in his arms and his own heart full of affection.
Lan Wangji’s ears flush red when he wakes up and finds himself in Wei Wuxian’s embrace. He looks away, shy and chagrined.
Wei Wuxian laughs, immeasurably fond, and hooks a finger under Lan Wangji’s chin to tilt his head towards him. He leans in as Lan Wangji watches, breathless. Eyes half-closed, Wei Wuxian leisurely nuzzles his nose against Lan Wangji’s. He leans back but he is arrested by the open look of wistful desire on Lan Wangji’s face—he looks like he wants to reach for Wei Wuxian but is afraid of rejection, afraid to ask for something and be denied it. Wei Wuxian’s chest aches at that look and he can’t stop himself from swaying closer.
Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian whispers, his face so close to the other that the scent of sandalwood fills his senses. His gaze drops to Lan Wangji’s mouth, to the slightly-parted lips.
Sweetheart, Wei Wuxian breathes out before pressing a kiss, open-mouthed and lingering, on Lan Wangji’s forehead, right on top of the metal piece of the forehead ribbon. Lan Wangji shudders against him in response.
When he pulls back, it is Lan Wangji who reaches forward, a hand on Wei Wuxian’s nape, pulling gently, wordlessly giving a choice—can I, will you, please, may I?
Wei Wuxian would have let the world burn before pulling away from Lan Wangji; maybe, not even then.
A soft press of lips against lips, in no rush to break apart.
When they separate, Lan Wangji sways towards him again, eyes desperate and longing, a broken sound escaping his throat.
Wei Wuxian, helpless to deny him anything, cups a hand over Lan Wangji’s cheek, tilts his head just so, and slots his mouth over those inviting lips. He can feel the moan that echoes between them as he slides his tongue over the kiss-swollen lips, teasing and comforting at the same time.
In between whispers of sweetheart and Lan Zhan and baobei, Wei Wuxian continues to press kisses all over Lan Wangji’s face, doting and tender, as Lan Wangji just looks at him as though he never wants to look away again.
Unobserved by both of them, Lan Wangji’s wings surround them both, protective of the boundless ocean of love between them, cocooning them from the world.
Lan Wangji has always felt too much, his heart too big for his body, and Wei Wuxian has always overflowed with emotions, so quick to anger, so very devoted once his heart decides on someone. Is it any wonder that they fit so well?
Before leaving Cloud Recesses, Wei Wuxian dares to break curfew one last time.
He knocks on the doors of the jingshi.
Lan Wangji looks at him with those golden eyes and Wei Wuxian says, nervous and eager, Lan Zhan, may I come in?
A beat later, Lan Wangji steps aside, granting him entry.
The sight of the Second Jade of Lan with his hair down, sleep-rumpled and soft, makes something pure and fragile and precious bloom within Wei Wuxian. He gazes at the other with warm, adoring eyes, unaware that his feelings are written all over his face.
Wei Ying, Lan Wangji says, as though those two syllables were the most treasured sounds in the universe.
Wei Wuxian ducks in to taste his name on Lan Wangji’s tongue.
Wei Ying, Lan Wangji says again, against Wei Wuxian’s mouth, his wings enveloping the other instinctually.
I have a gift for you, Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian says, his gaze on Lan Wangji strangely heavy and intense. Will you accept it?
I will accept anything Wei Ying gives, Lan Wangji says, too honest, too sincere.
Wei Wuxian takes a step back and brings his hands up, offering his gift to Lan Wangji. His wings flutter nervously behind him.
A silvery-grey primary feather with streaks of purple lays in his cupped hands.
A courting gift.
Lan Wangji forgets to breathe, the air catching in his throat. His heartbeat thuds loudly in his ears.
Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, will you accept? Wei Wuxian asks, tone formal, naked hope in his silver eyes.
Lan Wangji is frozen, his focus narrowed on the single feather offered to him. Everything that he has stopped himself from hoping for, everything that he has been dreaming about for months, everything that he has been yearning for, unspoken and hidden, is being offered to him now, freely. And Lan Wangji can only stare, dumbstruck, hoping that this isn’t another dream.
Wei Wuxian’s face falls the longer Lan Wangji takes to answer him. It is this that spurs him into action; Lan Wangji never wants to see such an expression of disappointment on Wei Wuxian’s face ever again. In a few seconds, Lan Wangji plucks one of his own healthy primary feathers, snow-white streaked with sky-blue.
He extends the feather to Wei Wuxian and says, voice raw and shaking, only if you accept mine.
The smile that blooms on Wei Wuxian’s face is brighter and more beautiful than the dawn.
Lan Zhan? Fly with me?
Wei Ying. Yes.