Rhapsody: a piece of music, free-flowing and emotional in structure, but integrated into a larger work
"You don't have to do this."
Lan Wangji's deep baritone is steady. "No, I want to."
"You… want to?"
"Yes."
"Ohhhkay." Wei Wuxian's voice is nervous, providing Lan Zhan with the opportunity to abandon the conversation at any moment, an ejector seat he could pull to freedom. But he doesn't. He remains stoic with those impassive eyes, looking to all the world like this didn't bother him.
Wei Ying was sure it definitely did. "Are you going to wear that?"
His husband glances down at his clothes, an ice blue suit coat over a white button down, light grey trousers, and brightly polished dark brown brogues. His brow wrinkles just a fraction, "These are my normal clothes."
"That's exactly the point. Come on, we're going to a real concert Lan Zhan! You gotta loosen up a little." He looks him up and down, parsing out what needs to stay and what needs to go.
I'd like to see it all off… Aiya, where did that thought come from?
Stepping forward, he reaches out and undoes the top three buttons of the white shirt, pulling it open to reveal some of his husband's smooth, pale skin.
"There. Just enough so you don't look like a total stick in the mud… or at least a little less than you normally do." But before Lan Wangji can form a response, his husband's hand is grasping his and pulling him out of their apartment door.
The venue is across town, deep in the arts district and finding parking was an absolute nightmare even with their tiny electric car. When they finally stumble into the small club, Wei Wuxian is dying for a drink.
"What can I get you two?"
"I'll have an Emperor's Smile and my husband here will have water." He plants a tiny kiss on Lan Wangji's cheek who immediately flushes bright red. The bartender, all sharp edges and dark skin, laughs gently and turns away.
Truthfully, Lan Wangji isn't sure how he was convinced to come. A tightly crowded club, loud rock music (not even a single guqin in sight), and lots of drunk people. But Wei Ying had wanted to go for ages since he first saw the poster advertising the Queen Tribute Concert and Lan Wangji loves to spoil his husband.
Two glasses in his hand, Wei Ying confidently manoeuvers his way through the tables until he settles down in a small u-shaped booth, seats trimmed in velvet. And Lan Wangji breathes a secret sigh of relief. Tucked away to the side, enclosed partially with the high booth backs, it was so much better than the crowded tables near the centre. He thinks he might be able to actually manage this now.
The club is nearly full now and the whole place is alive with conversation. In an effort to distract himself from the noise, he finds himself staring at the instruments set up on stage. There's an ominously large drum kit, a few guitars, and an electric piano. So intense is his focus that he doesn't even notice that his husband had ordered a bowl of spiced nuts until there's a pumpkin seed pressed against his lips.
Startled by the sudden contact, Lan Wangji flinches back. In his periphery, he sees Wei Ying's face drop.
"Sorry, I was looking at the instruments." He replies before the other can apologise.
"Oh no, that's okay. My fault. I should have seen that you weren't listening." He slides the bowl closer, "Want some?"
The nuts and seeds are a dangerous shade of red speaking surely of some fiery spice. Of course he would order the spiciest thing on the menu. Oh why not, I'm here aren't I? I'm already out of my comfort zone, let's just dive a little deeper.
Lan Wangji grabs a small handful and tosses them easily into his mouth.
Oh.
Oh. This was a mistake.
Next to him, Wei Wuxian is badly suppressing his amusement. "Haha, they're a little spicy, even for me." But his husband gives no response and Wei Ying's heart rate skyrockets upwards. "Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan?!" Did I just kill him?!
The man grabs his glass and downs the whole thing in a single go. "I need… water." He pants between burning breathes.
"Yes, yes, of course, yes." Wei Wuxian immediately jumps to his feet, nearly knocking the table over in the process. He mumbles a quick sorry to it before grabbing the empty glass and cutting a sharp path towards the bar.
The searing has settled down only minutely when Wei Wuxian returns. In his hands is the filled glass and an additional full jug of water. Lan Wangji's face pinches in confusion.
"They gave you an entire jug?"
"Apparently this happens quite often. The bartender knew exactly what I needed when I came over. See, Lan Zhan? There are other people in the world with as delicate constitutions as you."
"My constitution is not delicate. Those," He emphasizes, gesturing at the offending snack, "are deadly."
"Nonsense, my husband is just a feeble man with a love of rabbits, guqin music, and the blandest foods known to man." Wei Ying throws a handful of nuts into his mouth, crunching loudly.
"Mn." is Lan Wangji's only response, mouth still burning too hot to form a better defence.
The minutes tick down as conversation is casually traded, although it remains mostly one-sided.
"One of the kids got stuck in a chair today! We had to call the caretaker to come help get her out and I had to step into the corridor to keep myself from laughing. Oh Lan Zhan, it was so funny! And another one found out I was married to Hanguang Jun, the great guqin player and asked me a thousand questions about you. They want to meet you sometime. Don't worry, I didn't agree to anything, I just said I would ask." Wei Ying adds, patting his husband's arm reassuringly before continuing.
"Wen Ning, Jiang Cheng, and Xichen are coming for dinner on Saturday. Should we invite the kids too? Rulan and Sizhui are already coming but I bet Jingyi and Zizhen wouldn't say no to a home-cooked meal." (This question was given an emphatic agreement, Lan Zhan could never say no to the kids.)
There's just five minutes until showtime and his husband is practically vibrating in his seat.
"Wei Ying, Wei Ying, settle down."
"I can't, Lan Zhan. You know how excited I've been! I love this music so much! Oh that reminds me!" He reaches into his coat pocket and digs for a minute before pulling out a small plastic box which he sets in front of Lan Zhan. "These are for you."
Opening the box, he finds a pair of earplugs. The question must be clear in his eyes because his husband quickly adds, "The music can be loud. I thought you and your delicate little symphony ears might get hurt." Wei Ying nips playfully on husband's said ear.
The intimacy of the gesture in such a public space ignites something deep in Lan Zhan's chest and he presses closer. "Thank you." His voice is husky and full of an emotion deeper than love.
"Anything for you, my zhiji.
The band is halfway through Love of My Life in their second set by the time Wei Ying next glances over at his husband. The stage lights cast the pale skin in a warm orange and when he looks down at the table, Lan Zhan's long, guqin-playing fingers are delicately tapping along to the music.
Ha, see I told you you'd enjoy it.