a pool of light
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
Chapter Two
When the discussion does happen, Wei Ying sleepy, as he often gets after a bad episode, and full of good food, sated in a way that is both like and unlike a good orgasm, it doesn't take long. The Wens clearly conversed in the time he was dissociating, and the plan is more explained to him than anything—fine by him—with Wen Qing doing much of the talking, aided by Uncle Three, the lawyer, on speaker phone.
If he's honest, he understands very little of it, wrung out as he is, and it involves a lot of corporate legalese, but it boils down to Dafan Applications' legal team (Uncle Three and a few of the cousins) reaching out to Compu-Jiang's legal team to join forces and represent Wei Ying, which would make the lawsuit more robust with the victim officially a part of it.
It would also give it a legitimacy it doesn't currently have, which has benefits and drawbacks that make Wei Ying dizzy just thinking about, let alone having to listen to Wen Qing gently outline them. He understands she wants him to make an informed decision, but he just feels lost.
She discusses the increased media attention, the possibility of backlash from Lan Qiren and Gusu Lan Tech, the fact that Yu Ziyuan might work to make the trial difficult, as she wasn't shy about her vitriol to the media and could (and, Wen Qing comments, should) be among the defendants—
"Is reaching out t-to Jiang Cheng some… something you want, Ying-ge?" Wen Ning breaks in, bless him.
His friendship with Wen Ning, this sweet, gentle, empathetic soul, is the best relationship he has outside A-Zhan and A-Yuan; if not for his stutter, and the fact that he's such an absolute geek, he could have been an amazing therapist, always focused on people's mental well-being. It's kind of him to ask, and to stop his sister from going on a rant at Yu Ziyuan that Wei Ying doesn't have the spoons to hear right now.
But this means Wei Ying has to decide if he wants it—a continuation of the upending that hasn't even ebbed in the slightest, like the continuation of a tsunami. But with a possible reconciliation with Jiang Cheng… that ridiculous press conference was him reaching out.
His mind goes blank, though as often happens this doesn't stop his mouth from answering anyway.
"Yes."
He's startled by his own answer, and from the gentle smile Wen Ning gives him, his surprise is clear. He has a sip of tea and clears his throat before speaking again.
"I want to hear him out, at least—and the money will be nice," he says, echoing A-Zhan's sentiment from earlier.
He tries to sound casual, but he knows he fails, able to hear the shakiness of his own voice.
Wei Ying is surprised how much he wants, the feeling almost burning in its intensity; his relationship with Jiang Cheng was never perfect, not with how Yu Ziyuan used anything Wei Ying did well to cut Jiang Cheng down, but there were so many good memories over years, memories Wei Ying still treasures, ones he hopes Jiang Cheng still does, too.
He knows nostalgia is only part of the reason for his wanting—there's also the way they parted, via ugly text messages, and the fact that Yanli has always told him how much Jiang Cheng misses him, and the fact that his once-brother is stubborn as a donkey, chronically incapable of handling emotions in a way that doesn't involve anger and grand gestures. Wei Ying's not happy, but he understands Jiang Cheng's ways, and if this is an olive branch, he wants to reach for it and hope there's a future where they're brothers again.
"Then we'll do it," Wen Qing says resolutely. "And if you change your mind at any point, just let me know, all right?"
The look on her face makes it clear, even in its uncustomary gentleness, that she expects an answer, and she means also if he changes his mind about reconciling with Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying knows.
"A-Zhan will keep me honest," he tells her.
And it's true. He won't be able to hide it, since they'll likely be confined to the building again for a while, which is awful for poor A-Yuan.
He knows the Wens will take him out when they can. He has a whole building of family, after all. It's just not the same as going out with Baba and A-Die—they know this because their son is good with explaining his feelings, something they've worked on as a family, necessary for his parents since they've got trauma they're still sorting out.
A-Yuan, who has grown up in an environment where he's been encouraged to be open and forthright, unlike himself and A-Zhan's upbringing, is a lot better at it.
A-Yuan, who doesn't remember losing his parents but is still clingy to them as though a part of him does, who loves his daddies and picks up on their emotions a little too much sometimes.
"We'll need to talk to A-Yuan," he murmurs to A-Zhan, who meets his eyes and nods.
Popo pats his arm comfortingly, her gaze knowing. She was one person who stepped up a lot during the Jin trial, often taking A-Yuan out to play centers, like the indoor play center with a maze of tunnels for kids to explore and find hidden ball pits and trampoline areas. A-Yuan raved about this area that felt like he was floating on water if he lay down. As long as a place had somewhere for her to sit while he ran around, Popo was game.
"The community center has lovely classes we can sign him up for. All of us go there once a day, at least."
There are, thankfully, plenty of activities that he'll enjoy, even age appropriate classes on the dizi and other Chinese instruments, and Mandarin-language social gatherings, where many children will also be present, giving their son a chance to socialize more. It's not perfect, and they'll find a way to supplement, but it's a start.
A-Zhan thanks her, and Wei Ying nods along, feeling odd that his husband is speaking more than he is for once.
"I'll help… help too," Wen Ning adds. "He like… likes that Galaxy Golf place a lot."
That's a place Wei Ying can't take him, the blacklight and neon giving him a migraine, something he blames on an awful job he'd taken (and eventually had to quit) during the bad years that involved poor lighting, wearing a cheesy costume, and being manhandled by teenagers for far too little money. The time he tried, he was sick in the public bathroom and spent the next day in bed, so A-Yuan was fine with that being a place to go with his shushu or A-Zhan.
A-Zhan prefers to take him to educational exhibits, and Wen Ning is happy to take the role of fun uncle.
"Then it's settled," Uncle Four says, pulling out a box of pastries.
The logo on the box shows they're from the good Chinese bakery across the city, so someone drove through rush hour traffic to get them.
Wei Ying loves the Wens so much, this gesture normal for them in a way he never experienced in a family before they took him and A-Zhan in. They think nothing of gestures so sweet and loving they bring him to tears just thinking about, and this is another one like that.
With this, on top of the amazing dinner they came together to make, he feels so overwhelmed he has to pull the weighted blanket more snuggly around himself and take a few deep breaths to keep from actually crying.
He hates crying, and normally wouldn't come nearly this close, but he's not this overwhelmed very often anymore, either. A-Zhan's hand finds his own. He rubs circles against Wei Ying's palm with his thumb, and it helps.
By the time he opens his eyes, the Wens are at work cleaning up, all of them far too kind to comment on his episode.
While Uncle Four arranges the pastries prettily on a plate, Popo starts packing up leftovers. Wen Qing puts them in their refrigerator, and Wen Ning takes care of the dishes, gently refusing their (A-Zhan's) help. Popo brews fresh tea. Someone takes some fresh greens to Turmeric. It's a tiny whirlwind of activity that makes Wei Ying feel a bit dizzy, off-kilter as he is.
In minutes, their kitchen is sparkling, cleaner than when they arrived.
Wei Ying expects them to sit back around the table to enjoy the pastries, but apparently they're all for him and A-Zhan. Instead, they wish them a happy anniversary, offering hugs and (in Popo's case) gentle cheek-pats, before leaving, even locking up behind them.
Their anniversary. Right.
Somehow Wei Ying forgot, focused so much on Jiang Cheng's stupid public declaration of… whatever he's declaring.
He knows better than to let himself wallow in the pang of guilt at having even momentarily forgotten it's their anniversary—there are extenuating circumstances and he knows A-Zhan would never be offended. They've been through so much together, something so little could never come between them. A-Zhan is the best, and Wei Ying loves him so much.
Abruptly, he really just desperately wants his husband to rail him until he can't walk for a week, to leave bite marks and hickeys and bruises where only the two of them will see, until he's tethered more closely to his body and won't feel on the verge of floating away.
He wonders if they can take the pastries with them or if A-Zhan will keep to his "no food in bedrooms" rule. Maybe it can be waived, just this once. If he plays his cards right.
When he glances at A-Zhan, he can see his husband having similar thoughts, so he crooks a little grin.
"I bought new lingerie. You should rip all my clothes off and ruin them."
Wei Wuxian put it on while A-Zhan was in the shower, lace and leather, black and blood-red and completely indecent in all the right ways. He's still wearing them, under his dressy anniversary outfit. He likes this outfit, but sacrifices must be made at times.
A-Zhan's eyes rake over him like he's roughly undressing him already, imagining just how he'll ruin them and him, and he grins wider.
"Or maybe you want to feed me pastries instead?" he says, leaning in. "Or both?"
He can see A-Zhan's restraint snap, and he laughs as his husband pulls him toward their bedroom, snagging the pastries along the way.
They spent the rest of the night burning calories in the best way, keeping their minds far from what was to come and firmly on each other, body and soul.
The pastries go to very good use, though perhaps the baker would disagree.
I explained Spoon Theory to my mom a while back and it's kind of adorable how she applies it to all sorts of stuff. I think she thinks it means capacity to deal with bullshit, which isn't entirely off.
The place Popo takes A-Yuan is based on this place that I went once as a kid called Discovery Fun World. I think they used to be a chain in the early 90s, at least where I grew up. Sooo much fun—way better than Chuck E. Cheese. They lived up to their TV commercials.
Incidentally, I remember when Chuck E. Cheese was ShowBiz Pizza and the mouse wasn't the mascot. I haven't been to one in years but went to plenty of childhood birthday parties there, and my cousin once worked at one and had to be the mouse (and got beat up by teenagers). Do they still have the nightmare-inducing animatronic band?