Four year old Lan Zhan stared at his older brother, Xichen.
Xichen stared back.
He could do this; he would do this. He was the oldest, and as such he had a responsibility to his little brother. And part of that responsibility was teaching him to use his words.
If A-Zhan wanted something, he needed to learn to communicate it clearly rather than depending on Xichen to guess.
He wasn't a baby anymore, after all.
Even though Xichen knew what his brother wanted, he couldn't give in until A-Zhan asked for it. With words.
Hardening his heart, he straightened his back and turned his gaze stern.
He could do this, he wouldn't give in… no matter how adorable those wide, honey-coloured eyes were as they blinked up at him… those chubby, rosy little cheeks… that teeny little trembling bottom lip… the tiny droplets clinging to long dark lashes- wait.
Oh, dear.
Seven year old Lan Xichen snuggled his little brother on his bed, shushing and cooing to him while he ran a hand up and down the smaller boy's back. Pulling the sniffling child closer, he murmured soft words of reassurance as he tucked them both under the covers.
The fact that the whole thing had started because A-Zhan wanted to sleep next to his big brother again and Xichen wanted him to say so out loud was forgotten.
Point to Lan Zhan.