Work Text:
Lan Qiren was pleasantly surprised when, one quiet afternoon, his phone lit up with an incoming call from his nephew. His reclusive nephew, not the one who called once or twice a week to check in, the nephew who he hadn’t talked to even months before everything had shut down.
He was a little annoyed that Wangji had called right in the middle of his daily meditation, a routine he’d had since his nephews were young, but he was so pleased that Wangji was reaching out that he decided not to mention it.
“Hello,” he answered the call with a smile, getting up to put on water for his tea. He always had tea after meditating and just because his quiet time was interrupted that didn’t mean he had to forgo this routine as well.
“Who are you?” A little voice answered.
This wasn’t Wangji. Lan Qiren pulled the phone back from his ear to double check the caller-id but his nephew’s name still blinked up at him from the screen.
Had Wangji changed his number?
“This is Lan Qiren. How did you get this phone?”
It was a child, so perhaps Wangji had dropped his phone somewhere. Though why a child was calling him on it was beyond him.
“Are you friends with Mister Bunny?” The little kids asked.
Lan Qiren had already started his tea, so he decided to putter around the kitchen while his water heated.
“I don’t believe I know anyone by that name,” he said.
Lan Qiren wasn’t sure if it was okay to keep talking to who he could only assume was a preschooler judging from what he knew about child development.
“That’s not his real name, silly,” the child continued. “That’s his bunny name.”
“Ah, then what is Mister Bunny’s real name?”
Perhaps this Mister Bunny could lead Lan Qiren to Wangji or at least lead the conversation in a more productive direction, though Lan Qiren was having fun with this little nonsensical conversation.
“Hmmm, I can’t remember.” There was a pause before the child nearly burst Lan Qiren’s eardrum by shouting as loudly as one child could, “A-Die, what’s Mister Bunny’s real name?”
As Lan Qiren switched the phone to his other ear to avoid any further damage to the one that had just been shouted into, he could make out the distant muttering of another voice. It still wasn’t Wangji’s voice, too animated for that. The child’s father judging by the address.
“Mister Bunny’s real name is Lan Zhan,” the child said with a final note. “A-Die says so and A-Die knows everything in the whole world.”
“Ah, I am Lan Zhan’s uncle,” Lan Qiren said, deciding to forgo addressing the child’s all-knowing father out of fear of starting an argument that he had no hope of winning.
There was a little gasp followed by, “Do you like purple?”
Lan Qiren was taken aback, but he smiled anyway. It had been years since he’d been around little children. He used to teach classes for little ones when he was younger, before he’d decided to move on to undergrads, and he hadn’t missed it in a while like this. Missed their wild enthusiasm and random questions.
“I beg your pardon?” He asked.
He still wanted to know why a little kid had Wangji’s phone, but he wasn’t against having some fun talking to this child who’d somehow gotten ahold of it.
“My uncle likes purple,” the child said like it was a fact that Lan Qiren should have already known. “He’s grumpy like you. Is that uncles?”
Lan Qiren was grinning so wide that his eyes crinkled and his cheeks ached with it, but he didn’t mind much. There hadn’t been much reason to grin lately, so he would take this little joy.
“That’s a very rude thing to say to someone you’ve just met,” he said, in case the child got it into his head that it was okay to just go around calling adults grumpy.
The reply was instantaneous, and it made Lan Qiren laugh.
“That’s okay. I like saying rude things.”
There was more of that distant voice before shuffling over the speaker and a little whine from the child, perhaps the phone being taken from him.
“Um, hello,” said an adult, still not Wangji, but perhaps closer. “Sorry about that, Lan Zhan doesn’t have a password on his phone and my little monster has no boundaries.”
The last part was definitely not directed at Lan Qiren, but, presumably, at the child who squealed like someone who was being assailed with tickles. Lan Qiren was still smiling, and he couldn’t help but think of Xichen and Wangji as kids. Wangji less so because he’d hated tickles, mainly because he had been very ticklish, but Xichen who would squirm and shriek, but the moment you stopped tickling his little tummy would beg and beg for more tickles.
“A-Die, no! I want to talk to Mister Bunny’s Uncle!”
Lan Qiren couldn’t help but agree. Yes, his meditation had been interrupted, but he had been enjoying himself, even if he had been called grumpy.
“I thought you were being rude to him?”
“It’s okay,” the child said. “Auntie says you are rude to Uncle Peacock because you love him and I love my new friend.”
The still unnamed man let out an offended noise. Lan Qiren was apparently completely forgotten as the conversation continued without him.
“I am rude to him because he deserves it,” the child’s father said.
That was a terrible thing to teach a preschooler, that there were people who deserved people being rude to them. Luckily, the entire line of reasoning was undone when the child spoke again.
“Wait, what’s rude mean again?”
The child’s father let out an exasperated laugh as Lan Qiren hid his own grin behind his hand even though there was no one around to see it.
“It’s like being mean.”
That was Wangji’s voice. Though that opened up even more questions. If these weren’t strangers with Wangji’s phone, then where had he somehow acquired a toddler and its father? Lan Qiren was admittedly out of the loop, but this seemed like something important. Wangji sounded comfortable around them, and Wangji rarely sounded comfortable around anyone.
The boy gasped then, something overdramatic and loud.
“A-Die, don’t be mean to Uncle Peacock,” he demanded.
Again, giving orders was not something a preschooler should be doing to one of their parents, but Lan Qiren wasn’t in much of a position to judge. He had raised his nephews very strictly and though he stood by the fact that he raised them well, there were certainly things he regretted. One of those things being how firm he’d been. He couldn’t help but feel that Wangji ended up so stifled because of him.
“You were mean to your friend,” the man countered before pausing and then saying, “Wait, who even is your friend? Hi, who is this? Sorry about all that.”
The last part was directed at Lan Qiren
“I am Lan Zhan’s uncle,” he said. “Lan Qiren.”
“Ah,” said the boy’s father.
There was a shuffle and then Wangji’s voice said, “Uncle,” then went silent.
Lan Qiren smiled a soft indulgent thing.
“It seems we have some catching up to do,” Lan Qiren said.
“Mn,” Wangji responded.
Later, after the call ended, Lan Qiren was left to his neat, quiet apartment, a cold cup of tea, and a smile on his face.
Lan Xichen was expecting a call from his brother. They always called on Tuesdays, and he, like usual, had gossip about his boyfriends to share, so when Wangji called, he didn’t even pause to say hello.
“You will never guess what A-Yao did.” he said with a laugh, already picturing the way Wangji would try to hide exactly how piqued his interest was.
“Did he have an accident?” Answered a little voice that Lan Xichen could only assume belonged to one A-Yuan, unless Wangji had taken to spending time with a different preschooler.
“Because that’s not funny,” A-Yuan continued. “You shouldn’t laugh because someone has an accident that will hurt their feelings, A-Die says so.”
Lan Xichen paused for a moment to process and to steel himself not to collapse at how cute A-Yuan was.
“He didn’t have an accident,” Lan Xichen said, hoping to keep from further
“Then what did he do?”
“Ummm,” he said because the story wasn’t really appropriate for little ears, but he wasn’t fast enough to come up with some alternative tale.
Luckily, he was saved by someone snatching the phone right out of A-Yuan's hands.
“Hey,” A-Yuan called out. “A-Die said it's not nice to grab the phone out of someone's hands. I was talking.”
Wangji said, “Let’s talk together. To...” He paused, likely checking who A-Yuan had called. “My brother. Hello Xichen.”
“Wangji,” he said, not even trying to mask the grin in his voice.
A-Yuan joined their conversation, but not before demanding it be turned to a video call so that he could see if “Mister Bunny’s brother was good” whatever that meant.
A-Yuan was small, perched on Wangji’s lap like he belonged there, staring at the screen so intently, it almost made Lan Xichen want to fidget.
“Yep,” A-Yuan said, moments after the video connected. “A good brother.”
He nodded his little head and then looked up to Wangji.
“Sharing is good,” he said and when Wangji just blinked down at him, he tugged insistently on his sleeve. “A-Die says.”
“Yes,” Wangji agreed.
Lan Xichen grinned at their little exchange. It was cute to see Wangji like this, serious, quiet, independent Wangji being sweet and patient with a little preschooler perched in his lap. Lan Xichen surreptitiously took a screenshot of the moment just to show his boyfriends later, and perhaps to send to his uncle who had told him all about the call A-Yuan had made to him.
“Good afternoon, brother,” Wangji said.
Xichen opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get anything out, A-Yuan parroted, “Good afternoon, brother.”
He grinned after he’d said it, while Wangji looked down again.
“Ah, A-Yuan, you shouldn’t call him that. His name is Xichen”
A-Yuan genuinely looked confused.
“You call him that.”
Wangji spared an indulgent smile and Lan Xichen took another screenshot. If he had Wei Wuxian’s number, this would go straight to him. He would ask Wangji for it later.
“Xichen is my brother, so I call him that. Since he isn’t your brother, you shouldn’t address him that way.”
A-Yuan looked up at Wangji with an increasingly sad face before he turned his sad eyes on Xichen.
“But you said,” A-Yuan whined, collapsing backwards into Wangji’s chest with a pout, craning his neck up to peer at Wangji with wide, pleading eyes. “Sharing is good.”
Lan Xichen was pretty sure he caught on before Wangji which wasn’t surprising seeing as he normally caught on before Wangji.
“What exactly are we sharing?”
Little A-Yuan, bless him, just pointed at Lan Xichen across the call.
“Brother.”
Lan Xichen’s smile only grew.
“You want to be my brother like Wangji is my brother?” He asked.
To his surprise, A-Yuan just scrunched his face and shook his head.
“No,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t want to be your brother, I want you to be my brother.”
Lan Xichen let out a little laugh that had Wangji giving him an exasperated and fond eyeroll.
“Ah, sorry,” he said to A-Yuan. “My mistake.”
Wangji took over then, situating A-Yuan so that he could look the pouting preschooler in the eyes.
“Xichen is too old to be your brother. Perhaps you could call him Uncle?” He glanced up at Xichen then, like there was any chance that he would say no.
A-Yuan went slack in Wangji’s arm with a growl that sounded more disappointed than anything fierce or demanding. After a moment, he perked up, though.
“Okay, he can be another Uncle, but I want a brother my age.”
Wangji didn’t even look panicked or unsure, he just nodded and said, “You’ll have to talk to your A-Die about that.”
A-Yuan shook his head.
“A-Die isn’t here so I have to talk to you.”
“What about me? You can talk to me about it,” Xichen said with a smile.
A-Yuan seemed to remember then, what had sparked their conversation, because he turned back to the screen.
“I want a brother,” A-Yuan said, “but A-Die says I have to get another dad first.”
Lan Xichen’s eyes widened and he grinned up at Wangji in surprised amusement, overjoyed to find Wangji’s face absolutely burning red. Lan Xichen took another screenshot.
“Is that so?” Lan Xichen asked.
“Yep, but I don’t even know where to find another dad and when I asked A-Die he just laughed and turned red and hid under his pillow.”
“Xichen, how are you?” Wangji choked out, his face still blazing.
Lan Xichen would let him change the subject for now, but no way was he getting out of this.
“His friend had an accident and he laughed at him,” A-Yuan said.
Xichen couldn’t help but laugh. He was so glad that Wangji had found this little family to be a part of.
It was 6:16 AM on a Saturday and Nie Huaisang was lying in bed contemplating murder. You see, his phone was ringing. Did he mention it was 6:16 in the morning? Not 6:16 pm when Nie Huaisang would be headed to the park to have dinner with his brother. A.M. ante meridian, like in the morning, morning. He was pretty sure it was illegal to be awake at this time, much less to be calling someone who was notorious for being a night owl.
All ideas of murder vanished from his mind when he saw who was calling. Lan Wangji had never called Nie Huisang. Not once. The only call he’d ever received from this number had been from the one time Lan Wangji had accidentally left his phone at a coffee shop and his had been the latest text conversation, so his was the number the stranger had called.
“Who died?” he asked.
There was silence on the other end which only made Nie Huaisang’s pulse skyrocket.
“Wait, someone didn’t actually die did they?”
He pulled the phone back to check, and he didn’t have any other missed calls. Surely if something had happened, someone other than Lan Wangji would have called him.
“Do you know where Mister Bunny has his little cups? A-Die and Mister Bunny are still sleeping and I’m thirsty. “
“A-Yuan?” he guessed.
Any information Nie Huaisang had about this new little addition to Lan Wangji’s life had been painstakingly pried from Lan Wangji’s gritted teeth, and Nie Huaisang had enjoyed every moment of getting it. Nie Huaisang had been calling him more often lately because he was bored and his brother was busy with his new boyfriends and all his stupid friends did nowadays was complain about their online classes and refuse to socially distance and go to bars even though that was stupid if them.
Nie Huaisang was better than that thank you.
The upside of losing most of his vapid friends who were really only club friends, though, was that he talked more to Lan Wangji now. And no, he didn’t do so because Mingjue had told him that Xichen had told him that Lan Wangji was lonely. Lan Wangji was genuinely interesting and good conversation and actually funny when one took the time to get to know him.
So yeah, Nie Huaisang knew who A-Yuan was.
“Did your dad not bring you a sippy cup?”
He knew about A-Yuan’s father as well. Again, the knowledge painstakingly mined from Lan Wangji’s tight lips.
A-Yuan huffed out a little breath.
“I’m not a baby. I use big boy cups.”
Ah, the big boy argument, Nie Huaisang knew it well. Not because he spent time around children, god no, but because he could remember once upon a time using it himself to get Mingjue to take him with him everywhere it went. It had had a surprising success rate.
Nie Huaisang reasoned that if A-Yuan was big enough to insist he was a big boy, then surely he was big enough to learn how to use adult cups.
“Then why can’t you use Lan- er Mister Bunny’s cups?” Nie Huaisang argued.
It may have been too early for anyone to legally be allowed to be awake, but Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but grin at that little nickname that A-Yuan had gifted Lan Wangji. It was so sweet and fluffy and perfect, and Lan Wangji threatened Nie Huaisang with never sending another picture of his rabbits if he ever used it. Nie Huaisang was willing to risk it, though, as long as Lan Wangji never found out.
“They’re glass cups, and those might break.”
“But I thought you were a big boy. Big boys can use glass cups.”
Honestly, Nie Huaisang was just teasing, but A-Yuan was quiet for a moment before letting out a soft “oh”.
There was a series of not quite distressing noises, but irritating ones, the sound of the phone clattering onto a hard surface, the scrape of a chair being moved painstaking inch by inch across Lan Wangji’s lovely wood floors, and the gasping effort of someone little climbing somewhere they shouldn’t.
Now, here was the part where Nie Huaisang should have intervened. He recognized that, he even realized it in the moment, but he was too curious as to what would be the outcome to put a stop to it. Besides, that wasn’t his job anyway.
“Aha!” Called A-Yuan, the sounds of him scrambling down from the chair as terrible as the sounds of him getting onto it. Then, horribly, the same little voice called, “Oops!”
Nie Huaisang would have hung up as soon as he heard the sound of shattering glass in order to avoid any incrimination, but he was afraid that A-Yuan wouldn’t know what to do.
There was absolute silence for just a beat before A-Yuan let out a distressed noise that nearly perfectly mirrored Nie Huaisang’s own distressed noise.
He almost started crying himself when A-Yuan started crying. The preschooler sobbed, loud, long heavy cries that nearly broke Nie Huaisang’s heart.
“Go get Mister Bunny- oh wait, are you wearing shoes?” Nie Huaisang asked, not even sure if A-Yuan could hear him. “You shouldn’t move if there is glass on the ground, it could cut you.”
A-Yuan’s cries just seemed to get louder with every word and Nie Huaisang seriously didn’t know what to do.
“A-Die,” A-Yaun sobbed out and Nie Huaisang would have thought he was crying for his father to come get him if a panicked voice hadn’t called out.
“Oh my god, A-Yuan are you okay?” Wei Wuxian probably. “Wait, Lan Zhan you get A-Yuan. I’ll get the broom.
There was the crunch of someone stepping over broken shards and then a rusting noise before A-Yuan’s sobs were muffled by something, presumably Lan Wangji’s shirt.
Nie Huaisang stayed on the line as A-Yuan was comforted, mainly because he had never heard Lan Wangji speak in such a soft, lulling tone, it was nice, it nearly put Nie Huaisang back to sleep. After a while sounds of sweeping had stopped with a self-satisfied sigh by one Wei Wuxian, mystery man extraordinaire.
“A-Yuan, why were you getting glass cups?” Wei Wuxian said. “You know you shouldn’t use those, they’re for adults.”
Wei Wuxian had a nice voice, Nie Huaisang would give him that. He only had the one picture that Lan Wangji had sent him by accident. But he sounded nice.
“My new friend said I could,” A-Yuan said with a truly heart-rending sniff.
Uh oh.
“And just who is this new friend?”
“I don’t know.” Then, the phone must have been brought up to his ear again because suddenly he was clear. “What’s your name?”
“Jin Guangyao,” Nie Huaisang said before hanging up.