This is Halloween!

[we_bring_hell]

The Bar loves her holidays, but she is also capable of respecting religious strictures. That's why she put a lot of thought into finding a Halloween costume for Harrow that works with her face paint and general insistence on the monochromatic.

Harrow, for her part, is baffled by the white-pinstriped black suit and the oversized bow, but the gloves are very cool, and the buckled shoes suit as well. She has no idea what's going on but she can live with this.

The Bar seems even more unusually populated than usual, and there are a lot of gourds around. Hm.

Comments

[acrookedpath]

His smile grows. "I don't know if I would be, if you weren't here. You're..."

Wei Wuxian fumbles for the right words.

"My anchor. When I think too much. When it's too loud here." Clumsily, he taps his temple. "You've always been so calm."

[lightamidchaos]

He lays his hand along the side of Wei Ying’s face, his fingers resting lightly at his temple.

“You will never have to find out,” he promises.

“I am here. With you.”

[acrookedpath]

"Mm."

He turns his head toward Lan Zhan's hand, like a cat coaxing someone to scratch it behind its ears.

"Good." No louder. "It's nice not to think sometimes."

[lightamidchaos]

He runs his fingers gently into his hair, back from his face, then down behind his ears.

"I will remember," he murmurs. "For later."

[acrookedpath]

As they have both discovered, Wei Wuxian will reliably melt whenever Lan Zhan does this. It's even more pronounced when he's drunk on Atlantean; he lets out a long, pleased hum, sagging against Lan Zhan without the slightest care that he may knock him over. Lan Zhan's strong, after all. He'll keep him upright.

"Good," he mumbles again. "Ah, that feels so nice, Lan Zhan. How are you so good at this?"

[lightamidchaos]

He huffs a soft sound that might be a laugh, and pulls Wei Ying more comfortably against his side, supporting his weight with ease as he repeats the gentle caress.

"Mn. I will improve. With practice."

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian begins to smile; slowly, he descends into more tiny giggles.

"You're very good already," he says, trying for serene and missing by a thousand kilometers. "But if you want to practice..."

[lightamidchaos]

"Rest assured."

He keeps up the gentle strokes, but makes no move to progress beyond them.

"I do. And will."

[acrookedpath]

He loops both arms around Lan Zhan's middle, accidentally bumping his wings a couple times before properly situating himself against him.

"Wonderful," he mumbles. A beat; then, more rueful, "Maybe not tonight. I may fall asleep as soon as I'm in bed. But we've got time. Lots of it."

He squeezes Lan Zhan.

"I'm so glad we have so much time."

[lightamidchaos]

"Not tonight," he agrees, holding him close.

"We have always."

[acrookedpath]

Oh, no, it's bad enough that Lan Zhan says such romantic things when he's sober, but when he's drunk? Tears abruptly spring to his eyes, and he sniffles.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, I'm too drunk for you to say things like that!" he says. "You'll make me cry. Good crying. I promise. But I'll still cry!"

[lightamidchaos]

"Wei Ying."

He uses a thumb to wipe away the tears at the corners of Wei Ying's eyes before they can fall.

"Yes. You are very drunk."

[acrookedpath]

He wrinkles his nose. "Not very," he protests, despite literally all evidence to the contrary. "Just normal drunk."

Right? Come on, back him up here, Lan Zhan.

[lightamidchaos]

Lan Wangji just looks at him.

[acrookedpath]

"...Maybe a little more than normal?"

He unhooks one arm from Lan Zhan's waist to squeeze two fingers together.

"Juuuust a little."

[lightamidchaos]

"Wei Ying."

With patient affection, he twines his fingers with the other man's -- then spreads them wide.

[acrookedpath]

He looks at the large gap between his thumb and forefinger, then to Lan Zhan. Back to his fingers. To Lan Zhan again.




"I was drunker in London Above?" he protests feebly.

(Possibly. But if so, tonight runs an extremely close second.)

[lightamidchaos]

"That does not mean you are not still very drunk now," he replies, with impeccable logic.

It helps that he is absolutely sober, of course.

"But it is all right. I like seeing you happy."

[acrookedpath]

Even Wei Wuxian, drunk as he is, has to admit that logic is pretty impeccable. Damn.

"You're always so patient with me." He sighs, letting his hand drop back to Lan Zhan's waist. "I don't know why. But I'm so glad, Lan Zhan. I love you."

[lightamidchaos]

"And I love you."

He touches his cheek once more, a soft brush of fingers over skin.

"That is why."

[acrookedpath]

His eyes fall closed; he turns enough to kiss the tips of Lan Zhan's fingers.

(The tiny movement feels much larger and wobblier than it should be -- which, he has to admit ruefully, means he probably really is as drunk as Lan Zhan insists.)

"Plenty of people weren't as patient as you," he murmurs, unconcerned. "Even if they loved me."

[lightamidchaos]

It is perhaps just as well that Wei Ying's eyes are closed. Lan Wangji closes his own, briefly, in hopes of hiding anything untoward in his expression.

"They are not me."

[acrookedpath]

"I know." Softly.

It's still a marvel, though, one he can't put to words: this knowledge of just how deeply Lan Zhan loves him. The level of his devotion would frighten Wei Wuxian if he looked at it for too long, like blinding himself by looking into the sun. What could possibly make him worthy of it?

He doesn't know. But at least tonight, the Atlantean keeps him afloat on its warm, shining waters, so he doesn't have to worry too much about things like unworthiness.

[lightamidchaos]

He draws a quiet breath, then opens his eyes again and looks at Wei Ying.

With a faint smile, he slides one hand up his back to the nape of his neck and curves his fingers there to exert gentle pressure, trying to coax him to rest his head on Lan Wangji's shoulder.

[acrookedpath]

"Mm."

Wei Wuxian wouldn't put up much of a fight even if he were sober: he lets his head fall onto Lan Zhan's shoulder, tightening his hold just a moment as the world swims pleasantly.

"You're warm," he mumbles against him.