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Wei Ying fidgeted with the collar of his shirt as he looked in the mirror for the tenth time in the past five minutes. He kept fixing things that weren’t there, smoothening out the hemlines, focusing on how the collar of his black turtleneck folded against his skin.
Every way the excess fabric folded was wrong and needed to be pulled up and folded back down - everything needed to be perfect tonight, he couldn’t afford to look like a mess in front of Lan Zhan’s family.
Lan Zhan was already at his uncle’s house, helping set up for the meal, for Christmas.
He said he would come back in an hour to pick Wei Ying up, to go back to the house and talk until everyone else had arrived.
Wei Ying looked over at the clock - 4:29pm - Lan Zhan was due to arrive at any minute.
He ran his hands through his hair, flattening it where it was too tall, tucking away the strands that stuck up - almost willing to get the scissors and cut down the stands that refused to act in the way that he wanted them to.
His phone vibrating in his pocket made him jump, knowing that it was Lan Zhan, knowing that he was parked outside and was waiting for Wei Ying to come out, to leave their shared home, locking the door behind him.
“I can’t keep him waiting.” Wei Ying mumbled to himself as he once more fixed his collar, folding it back down the same way it had just been, running his hands through his hair five more times until he thought he looked presentable.
He turned, grabbing the tan coat that had been laid against the back of one of the dining room chairs, and made his way to the door, locking it behind him.
Wei Ying took a deep breath, resting his head against the cold wood, before turning around and walking down the driveway.
Lan Zhan smiled at him as he got into the car - the heat was already on, the seat warm as he sat down, things that Lan Zhan knew Wei Ying always loved about their car in the winter months.
Without a word, Lan Zhan started driving out of their neighborhood and towards the city. Lan Qiren lived on the other side of town, in a suburb in the same city as them, but in one of the quieter neighborhoods - ones where the entire culdesac was people older than 50, people who lived with their partners, children long moved out and with children of their own.
Wei Ying knew that the property had been in the Lan family for a while, that it had been Lan Zhan and Lan Huan’s childhood home before their parents passed - the deed being transferred to Lan Qiren in their father’s will.
Lan Zhan hadn’t told him much about the house, Wei Ying had seen some of the house in pictures, but he knew that it wasn’t some generic suburban house - it was an old money type of house, one that Wei Ying on his own could never afford to live in, the type of house that the second you looked at it, you knew those inside were rich.
That only increased the pressure for Wei Ying.
It wasn’t some random house he was going to, where if he spilled a cup of red wine it would easily be brushed off, added to the stains that already littered the carpet. This was a house that Wei Ying thought breathing too much would damage the home, decrease the market value, get him kicked out and banned from all future family events.
Wei Ying knew he was a handful, he knew that sometimes people didn’t know how to handle him. He tried to keep it in, keep to himself, not allow his robust personality to ruin yet another relationship because he became too much too fast for someone.
He had lost friendships in the past because of it, he still wondered how Lan Zhan managed him, why he stayed, why he continued to stay, to love him - when everyone else had left.
Wei Ying struggled with thinking about where he was for Christmas the year prior, that so much could change in the span of a year, that he could lose so much in such a small length of time.
He had spent last Christmas at the Jiang’s - Jiang Yanli and her parents, Jiang Cheng, that peacock Jin Zixuan, and Jin Ling, his brand new baby nephew.
He spent last Christmas surrounded by people he thought loved him, who would love him no matter what, who would stand by him, stand with him.
Wei Ying thought that the next year would be better, that maybe he would bring Lan Zhan with him, they had only been dating for a few months at the time, and while they both knew they were it for each other, they were hesitant on telling others. Their relationship was still new to them, they were still exploring each other and living with one another, learning more about one another - and they wanted to keep that to themselves for a little bit.
God forbid Wei Ying wanted to keep something to himself, rather than expose it to the world, have others share their opinions on his life.
Lan Zhan hadn’t been the reason the Jiangs started excluding him from events, from family dinners, from holidays, birthdays.
Lan Zhan hadn’t been the reason Jiang Yanli stopped inviting Wei Ying to dinner once a month - something they had done from the moment Wei Ying had moved out when he was eighteen.
Lan Zhan wasn’t the reason Jiang Cheng texted all their friends and told them to stop hanging out with Wei Ying, to stop talking to him, inviting him places, including him in their plans.
Lan Zhan hadn’t been the reason - but they placed blame on him rather than themselves, claiming Lan Zhan had changed him, turned him into someone they didn’t recognize.
Wei Ying didn’t know when things changed, perhaps things had always been uneven within his relationship with the Jiangs. He didn’t know when they started harboring this hatred for him, when they started to realize that they were better without him.
It showed up in the way Jiang Yanli slowly stopped talking to him. In the way she stopped calling him once a week to talk, in the way his calls wouldn’t get picked up. The way she treated him like a stranger the one time he ran into her at the store, when he was grocery shopping after he and Lan Zhan had finally moved in together, when Lan Zhan had finally moved in after nine months of dating.
In the way Jiang Cheng was rougher with him, his words seemingly more harsh, more like he meant what he was saying, the playful jabs no longer feeling as playful as they once did. The offhanded comments he made about Wei Ying being in a relationship, how it was changing him.
Wei Ying wished they would just be honest with him, rather than all this slow cut off of communication - especially when he didn’t know what he had done.
He tried thinking about what had happened before it all, what he did to deserve this.
And all he did was come to one conclusion.
Their behavior changed after Wei Ying’s parents’ deaths had been changed from an accidental death to murder.
It changed when their case had been reopened by a rookie detective who had happened upon the case, and noticed details that hadn’t been brought to light in the original case.
That happened four years before last Christmas. The case had been reopened and they had managed to catch the person, charge an individual with murder - but the case had actually ended the summer before last Christmas.
Wei Ying didn’t know the person responsible, he barely knew the details of the case, but from what little he knew, it was someone involved with Jin Guangshan - family friends of the Jiangs, Jiang Yanli’s father-in-law.
Twenty-five years, parole in fifteen on good behavior.
The trial had been difficult to get through. Wei Ying only showed up because his parents deserved justice, he deserved to see the person who had tampered with their car, who had caused them to take a turn and their brakes to fail, causing them to drive over the median and into an oncoming semi truck.
He had been five years old when it happened. He remembered being picked up from kindergarten by Jiang Fengmian, saying something happened to his parents and he was going to live with him from now on. Wei Ying remembered attending the funeral, seeing two closed caskets at the end of the church.
He still remembered the picture they had chosen for them, their wedding picture, the one that his mama had been so proud of, the one she had framed, hanging above the fireplace.
She was smiling, laughing, holding a piece of cake to her husband’s mouth, spreading the frosting all over his lips. Mama had told him about the picture at least once a week, a wide smile on her face as baba listened from the other room, from the kitchen, from his seat next to her.
His mama was beautiful in her wedding dress - in the simple off-white satin dress that she claimed was a family heirloom, that her mother had worn during her own wedding and their marriage was still going strong, something magnificent and beautiful. His baba was in the typical tuxedo, a pale pink tie wrapped around his neck as he stood next to her - Wei Ying later finding out that he had matched his tie to her bouquet. He had matched it to the peonies that grew in the backyard of their home that she had used.
Wei Ying remembered seeing that picture and smiling - thinking that everyone else would see his mama when she looked so beautiful, so happy, a moment he knew that she loved to talk about.
Uncle Jiang told him as he grew up that there were some things left for him, but that he had to be eighteen to have them transferred over to him - that he was kind and considerate to keep watch over them until Wei Ying was to have them.
One of those things being his family home, the home he had grown up in, the home that he and Lan Zhan now lived in.
Wei Ying didn’t know the house had been left to him until he was contacted by the lawyer representing his parents on his eighteenth birthday, asking if someone had contacted him regarding his parents’ will. When he said no one had, the lawyer immediately asked to meet, to discuss the will, and that’s when he found out.
His parents had left them their life’s savings - almost a million dollars - in addition to the house. The money had been left in a trust that Wei Ying was to gain access to once he was eighteen, and that it could only be accessed by approved individuals to help fund Wei Ying’s education.
Jiang Fengmian had not been listed as someone able to access the funds - but he knew there was an account just accruing money as the years went by.
Jiang Fengmian knew the Wei house would be transferred over to Wei Ying. He knew that Wei Ying was to be given things once he was eighteen.
Since the home had been placed under Wei Changze’s name, Jiang Fengmian held no claim to the home, and was only allowed to maintain maintenance as the years passed until Wei Ying could decide what to do with the house - but that didn’t mean he hadn’t planned what he wanted Wei Ying to do with the home.
Wei Ying remembered asking Jiang Fengmian after speaking with the lawyer when he got back to the Jiang household. He and Jiang Fengmian were the only ones in the house at the time.
He asked what the Jiang knew of his inheritance, if someone had told him beforehand. Wei Ying had almost been excited to tell Jiang Fengmian that his childhood home was his, that the home had been paid off when his parents had bought it, so housing for the future was already taken care of, something he didn’t have to worry about.
There would always be a home waiting for him, no matter how hard life got.
Jiang Fengmian didn’t hold the same sentiment.
He remembered Jiang Fengmian trying to guilt him into giving him the house.
He remembered arguing with Jiang Fengmian, the way the man raised his voice at him like he never had before.
The house was to be used by Yanli for her husband and child on the way. It was in the ideal neighborhood, the right size for a new family. It was what Wei Ying could do to give back for everything the Jiangs had done for him since they took him in. If he could just sign the house over to them, they would consider all debts paid, they expected Wei Ying to care more about appeasing them than himself.
It didn’t matter to the Jiang that this wasn’t just a random house, a property that he could invest in, this was Wei Ying’s childhood home.
The home he grew up in, the home he spent five years with his parents in. The last space that the three of them had been in at the same time before being ripped away from each other.
Jiang Fengmian expected Wei Ying to sign away the house as if it meant nothing to him - as if he didn’t dream of that house once a week, as if he didn’t spend hours crying when he was a child because the room he was in wasn’t his room.
Wei Ying moved out of the Jiang home that night.
He left with a single suitcase filled with his things. A box of his books, sketchbooks, posters that hung on his walls, photos that now seemed bitter to look at.
He packed his things up as Jiang Fengmian watched, occasionally making comments about how Wei Ying didn’t need to do this, that all he had to do was sign and this teenage rebellion would be forgiven.
Looking back at Jiang Fengmian in the rearview mirror as he drove off settled something in Wei Ying.
That had been two years before last Christmas, a year and a half before the criminal case against his parents’ murderer went to court, four months before Lan Zhan would find Wei Ying sobbing on the couch, clutching a pillow as he looked at the smiling picture of his parents on the mantle - pulling Wei Ying to his chest and letting him cry, then ordering food for them and taking care of him for the night.
Wei Ying finally kissed him that night.
Wei Ying spent his eighteenth birthday alone, sitting on the floor in his childhood home, looking through what was left, what had been untouched by time.
The house had been cleaned, but all material objects remained.
The chairs were still pulled out from breakfast that morning, the sheets on the mattresses remained, blankets folded like someone left in a rush, missing their alarm and getting up in a panic. Wei Ying’s room was still painted a fading pastel blue, toys boxed up under his bed, stuffed animals he had forgotten about still held their post at the foot of his bed.
Wei Ying spent his nineteenth birthday at Yanli’s, a small dinner that mainly was for Jiang Cheng’s birthday.
No one told him happy birthday, no one gave him presents, no one gave him a single moment of their time that night. All the focus was on Jiang Cheng and his birthday.
It was that Christmas that Wei Ying knew they were cutting him out of their family. He had been given gifts, small things - socks, a candle, a generic gift card for one of the cheap restaurants in town. While he watched the Jiangs open extravagant gifts, things that had thought put into them, items chosen with care.
When he left that night, Jiang Fengmian had pulled him aside and told him he expected more of him, that the gifts he gave were lackluster, cheap, things that they could have bought if they wanted. Jiang Fengmian told Wei Ying that he had expected to see a deed to the house with Yanli’s name on it, for Wei Ying to have come to his senses and to give her the house that she deserved.
He left that house that night knowing that they never loved him, that they saw what he would gain when he was eighteen and thought that if they treated him well, if they made him think he owed them, that when he was finally able to repay them, he would give all they were asking.
They didn’t count on Wei Ying having a backbone, of him being able to see things for what they were, for not thinking for a single moment that he should give them anything that his parents left for him in the wake of their deaths.
They didn’t count on Wei Ying holding sentimentality over a home he hadn’t seen in thirteen years or that he would want to live there after he knew the house was his.
He knew that they were spreading a story, telling others that Wei Ying had abandoned them when they needed help, that he had fallen into a sum of money and refused to help his family.
There was also the thing with Jin Guangshan.
It had been Wei Ying who made the decision to push for murder charges, to be the one to tell the lawyer representing his parents to push, to get what he could from the man responsible.
The Jiangs had been in his ear, in his head, telling him that it had been so long since the case had closed, since the accident had even happened - why should the outcome matter now? It wouldn’t bring them back, it wouldn’t change anything, it would only send a man to jail for something he did thirteen years ago.
People change A-Ying, this man may have repented for his actions. Wouldn’t your parents want you to be in peace? Don’t you want them to rest? Why are you pushing this so far?
Overnight, Wei Ying had become a bad omen among their social circles. Friends weren’t speaking to him, they were turning against him, telling others that he was chasing after ghosts, going after a man with no prior record, who knows if the man they have in custody was even responsible? It was so long ago, could they really even be sure it was murder?
Wei Ying lost everyone.
Everyone except Lan Zhan - and Nie Huaisang and the Wen siblings.
He lost his support circle because he wanted the person responsible for the deaths of his parents to face justice. He lost his family because he refused to hand over what was his to them.
But he never lost Lan Zhan.
And that’s what made this Christmas so much more stressful.
Wei Ying watched the streetlights as they flickered on, as people drove past them, as he saw people walking down the streets. He watched them trying to calm his own nerves, trying to make himself calm down, to stop sweating, to stop overthinking this.
He had already met Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen - but that was over dinner at a restaurant. Now, he was coming into their home, to their Christmas.
His leg bounced as he kept looking down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them, trying to gain back his confidence - to not think about how much he could fuck up tonight.
They pulled into the neighborhood that Wei Ying knew Lan Qiren’s home was in, and he felt like he was going to throw up. His heart was pounding as Lan Zhan parked in front of the house.
Lan Xichen was already standing on the porch, waiting for them.
Nie Mingjue stood next to him, a beer in his hand, both of them waiting for Lan Zhan and Wei Ying to arrive.
He heard Lan Zhan get out of the car. He saw him walk around the front of the car to his door. He felt Lan Zhan’s hands cupping his cheeks, forcing him to look at him as he knelt down next to the car.
“Wei Ying, everything will be alright,” He wiped away the tear that slid down Wei Ying’s face, “They’ve been mentioning how happy they are to have you here, with us, where you belong.”
Another tear slid down Wei Ying’s face.
“But what if I mess it all up again?” He couldn’t help but whisper, taking in a sharp breath.
Lan Zhan leaned forward, kissing his forehead and leaving his mouth there as he spoke.
“They love you. We all love you. You are welcome here, Wei Ying.” He pulled back. “Nothing you could do would ever change that.”
Wei Ying let Lan Zhan guide him out of the car, take his hand and walk to the front door.
He remembered greeting Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue, smiling at them, glancing inside when Nie Mingjue said Huaisang was inside waiting for him to show up - that he may have snuck in some wine to a Lan family event.
Lan Qiren spoke to him, asking about his classes, about how taking advanced courses was going, asking about the company that his professor put him in touch with who wanted to hire him - things that mattered to Wei Ying, things that the Jiangs would never have asked about without making it all about themselves.
Wei Ying came back to himself, fully sitting back in his body, and found that he was sitting on the couch in the living room. Lan Zhan was sitting between his legs on the floor watching Lan Xichen begin to unwrap a present.
He watched Lan Xichen smile as he pulled out a sweater with some type of pun on it, an animal laughing at a joke. It was a blue sweater, fitting in with the Lan family colors, a present that clearly showed that whoever picked it out took time to think about what Lan Xichen would have wanted - the things that he liked, something that he would wear, that he would enjoy getting as a present.
The Jiangs never put that much effort into Wei Ying’s presents, he was lucky to get a gift card that he could use to get something that he actually would’ve liked to have gotten.
One year, when Wei Ying was fifteen, the only thing he asked for was tickets to a concert that was three hours away. He could handle getting there, driving there, the whole lot, he just asked Jiang Fengmian for the tickets.
That Christmas, Wei Ying watched as Jiang Cheng opened a present to find concert tickets to a different band even farther away - Jiang Fengmian saying that he would cover all hotel costs, that he would drive him there and drive back to pick him up the next day. He got him two tickets, but Wei Ying didn’t need to think about it to know that Jiang Cheng would never pick him to go with - and he hadn’t, he had gone to the concert with Huaisang, who didn’t know anything about what Wei Ying had wanted for Christmas that year, who Jiang Cheng had told that Wei Ying said he hated that band and would never want to go.
He got to hear all about the concert when they got back. Wei Ying never corrected Huaisang when he said Jiang Cheng told him he didn’t want to go - he just smiled, said it sounded like a great time.
Jiang Fengmian had gotten him a pair of headphones. A cheap pair. The pair you get when you need something to last for an hour before throwing them away. A pair that you get when you realize you left your usual pair at home and are going on an hours long trip where you’ll need them - and don’t mind spending a few dollars on a cheap pair to get you through the day.
Wei Ying used those headphones until they finally died on him a year later, they still were in a box in the top of the closet - in the box of things he didn’t really want to keep, but couldn’t throw away. The things that reminded him about how the Jiangs had treated him, the way he needed to be reminded of their low efforts, their expectations.
Lan Zhan had asked him about the box when he stayed the night for the first time. Wei Ying simply told him it was full of reminders to never look back on his decisions, mementos of a life lived, of beating expectations, of choosing himself for the first time.
Wei Ying startled as a present was gently set in his lap.
He looked up to see Lan Qiren’s back retreating to his seat.
His hands crinkled on the paper, the simple red paper that covered a surface too flat to be anything other than a box.
Lan Zhan looked up at him, nodding towards the present, telling him to unwrap it.
Anywhere else, Wei Ying would have shred into the paper in his lap, he would have ripped into it like he was starving for paper, like a cat attacking the corner of a brand new couch.
Here, Wei Ying carefully ripped the paper, thinking the entire time that it was ripping too loudly, that they would take the present from him the moment he unwrapped it - jumping up and laughing, saying how could he have expected any presents from them when he was that.
The red paper revealed a generic white box, the type that exists on the aisles of supermarkets. Those generic white square boxes for presents that are too hard to wrap neatly, for the presents that don’t fit in with the others.
He handed Lan Zhan the wad of wrapping paper in his hand, then turned back to the white box, gently removing the lid and looking inside.
There was a brown leather book nested in tissue paper.
It didn’t have anything on the cover, but it was at least an inch thick, heavy when he picked it up.
Lan Zhan grabbed the empty box from his lap and Wei Ying set the book down in its place.
He flipped open the first page and took in a sharp breath, his whole body freezing as it locked onto the two photographs.
It was a photo album, not a book.
He swallowed, slowly turning the page, his hand shaking as it let go of the page, revealing four more photos.
The tears just came as he was met with pictures of his parents and their wedding, of photos of them sharing cake, the minutes around his mama’s favorite picture, just from a different perspective.
He let out a sob as he rested his head against the page, leaning down, feeling the plastic pages crinkle against his forehead.
Lan Zhan had reacted immediately, placing his hands on his head and trying to get Wei Ying to look up at him, to take his face off the page so he could see what Wei Ying was looking at. There was a moment where the warmth of Lan Zhan’s breath left, as he turned and looked at Lan Qiren - almost glaring at him, asking what he gave Wei Ying to make him react in such a way.
Wei Ying’s shoulders shook as he lifted his head up, as he traced a finger around his parents’ faces, as he started to remember them more clearly, their faces coming into focus more in his memories - the few memories he could still recall with them in it.
He ignored Lan Zhan as he turned the page, glancing over photos of his parents in formal attire, lounging in the park, in the library, his mother with her arm thrown over Lan Qiren’s shoulder - the man glaring at her as he tried to shove her off of him.
He smiled through the tears that fell down his face as he spotted a picture of two pudgy babies, one swaddled in blue and the other in red - clearly himself and Lan Zhan, held in their mothers arms, squishing them together with wide smiles on their faces as they posed for the camera.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying spoke, his voice breaking, tears still streaming down his face, “Look, it’s us.”
Something in Lan Zhan settled when he saw that Wei Ying wasn’t crying because he was upset, but that he was happy, so happy that he couldn’t help but cry. He looked down at the page, his eyes widening as he was not only met with himself and Wei Ying as infants, but seeing his mother’s face once more.
Lan Zhan couldn’t stop himself from reaching over, tracing his mother’s smile before looking back at Wei Ying, wiping away the tears that spilled down his face.
“I came across those when I was cleaning through the boxes in storage,” Lan Qiren started, his voice soft, calm, like he knew it would be a heavy gift for both of them, especially Wei Ying in particular, “A-Zhan has been telling us that you want to be here, but he didn’t need to tell us that you were anxious, worried to be here. Given everything that happened with them, I thought that you may not have much of your parents left.”
Wei Ying closed the photo album, clutching it to his chest as Lan Qiren spoke.
“They are yours to keep, I have already made my own copies. I still have more when you would like to see them, but those were the more important ones I thought you should have.” he finished, wiping a tear from his eye.
Wei Ying looked around the room, at the friends he had made, the family he had created, the people who wanted him around them, who cared about them.
He met Lan Zhan’s gaze with a smile on his face, leaning forward and resting his head on his shoulder as he let more tears go, taking with them all his pain, all the times he spent with the Jiangs wishing he could have something like this.
All the years he spent rationalizing that they didn’t need to care for him, take him in, provide for him, that he was only burdening them. All the tears he gave them, the pain, the blood, the hushed words.
Every time he heard them laughing, every time he covered himself with his blankets in his room trying to drown out how happy they sounded when he wasn’t in the room.
Every ounce of himself he had given up to make himself fit in their family, the ways he had cut himself up, forming and molding himself to their expectations.
All the days he spent later at school, taking the long walk back to their house, the days he said he had plans with Huaisang when it was all a means to not be in the house when they were all there, when they had company, when he heard Yu Ziyuan call him the orphan they were sheltering until he was old enough to take care of himself.
No one here in this house expected him to change himself, they accepted him the way he was - and everything that came with that.
They knew of his anxieties and were willing to give him space, prove to him that they were worthy of being in his life, that they cared about him for who he was and not what he could provide them.
They cared for him as Lan Zhan’s partner, his boyfriend, his soon to be fiance, his future husband.
He wasn’t an orphan, a cash cow, someone they needed to tolerate and treat well because the pay off would be beneficial.
Wei Ying, watery eyes and all, looked across the room at Lan Qiren, a wide smile on his face.
“Thank you.” he whispered - watching as Lan Qiren shook his head.
“There is no need for thank yous between family, A-Ying, and that is what you are here - part of our family.”
There was a quiet moment, one where Wei Ying got his tears in check, wiping his eyes and looking around the room sheepishly, not knowing whether or not to apologize for his tears.
Nie Huaisang beat him to it before he could speak, jumping up and shoving a box into his hands.
“Wei-xiong! I got you something too!”
Lan Xichen crouched down and picked up a larger box, setting it on the floor next to Wei Ying.
“Mingjue and I also got you something.”
Lan Zhan coughed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small box, repositioning himself so he was kneeling in front of Wei Ying.
“I also got Wei Ying something.” he quietly spoke on one knee, opening the box to reveal a simple silver band, a single red band inlay around the circumference of the ring.
Wei Ying heard those around them cheering, Huaisang yelling out in shock, telling him to say yes - when they all knew his answer without being asked.
“Of course.” Wei Ying whispered, smiling as he leaned forward and cupped Lan Zhan’s face, bringing them closer until they were the only two people who mattered in the world.
Later, he looked down at the band that wrapped around his finger, then back up at the chaos that was going on around him. Someone had brought out board games, and Wei Ying found out that there was nothing Lan Qiren was more competitive about than board games.
Lan Zhan squeezed his hand, knocking their shoulders together, a small smile on his face.
“Merry Christmas Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying smiled, his heart finally clicking together the way it should have from the start, surrounded by people who loved him, who wanted him in their lives, who wouldn’t be swayed by lies, by money, by the things Wei Ying might be able to give them.
They accepted him as he was and didn’t ask for him to change.
“Merry Christmas Lan Zhan.”