“Chairs are an oppressive social construct,” Wei Wuxian retorts. 

Nie Huaisang hums thoughtfully from the couch. “I feel like you say that every time you sit in one.”

Wei Wuxian laughs and tries to sit up but his head jerks back with a sharp little tug. His eyes go wide.

Jiang Cheng catches the movement from the corner of his eye and looks up. “What.”

Wei Wuxian carefully lifts one hand and pats at the back of his head, feeling hair and wood together. “Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian raises his voice, trying to call down the hall.

Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes and stands, walks over, and crouches down behind Wei Wuxian’s chair. He takes in the scene: long strands of dark hair neatly threaded between two narrow wooden slats, caught perfectly at the worst possible angle.

“Your hair is woven into the chair. This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done,” Jiang Cheng says flatly. “I need you to know that.”

Wei Wuxian grins, “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time,” Jiang Cheng snaps. “No one told you to keep outdoing yourself.”

Nie Huaisang peers over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “Should I get scissors?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng says. 

“No!” Wei Wuxian cries. 

Lan Wangji appears silently, emerging from the hallway. He looks down and takes in the situation. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian pouts. “I’m stuck.”

“I see that.” Lan Wangji crouches, fingers already reaching with careful precision. “Do not move,” he says.

Wei Wuxian immediately nods. “I won’t even breathe.”

“You’re still breathing,” Jiang Cheng mutters, arms crossed as he watches. 

Lan Wangji gently gathers the trapped strands, untangling them one by one. His touch is light and methodical. He pauses when Wei Wuxian hisses softly “Sorry,” Wei Wuxian says automatically. “That one was my fault.”

Lan Wangji adjusts, slower now. Wei Wuxian tilts his head just enough to look at Lan Wangji upside down. “You’re very good at this.”

“I have practice,” Lan Wangji says quietly. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. 

Nie Huaisang looks interested and asks, “Practice?”

Wei Wuxian grins, all teeth. “I get stuck a lot,” He explains proudly.

“A normal person wouldn’t be bragging about that,” Jiang Cheng snaps. 

Lan Wangji frees the last strand and straightens. He steps back. “You may move now.”

Wei Wuxian immediately flops forward, hair cascading free, and spins in the chair to face him. “Lan Zhan,” he says sincerely, “you saved my life.” Lan Wangji shakes his head in response.

Jiang Cheng freezes, then nudges the obstruction again, less forcefully this time, “Why are you on the floor?”

Before Wei Wuxian can answer, there’s a second noise close to a yelp. “Hey!” Nie Huaisang squeaks. “Watch it!”

Jiang Cheng turns his glare downward towards the voices even though he can’t actually see anything through the dark. “Why the fuck is anyone on the floor?”

Nie Huaisang quickly defends himself, “Don’t yell at me, I had to pee. He was just there and I tripped.” 

“Well move, you’re a traffic hazard,” Jiang Cheng replies, fighting the urge to softly kick in his direction again.

“I was camping,” Wei Wuxian says weakly.

“That is not an answer,” Jiang Cheng replies as he flicks on the hallway light. Wei Wuxian is sprawled out on a pile of blankets and a pillow like he gave up halfway through building a nest. One arm is thrown dramatically over his eyes. Nie Huaisang is next to him but is now sitting up.

Jiang Cheng stares as he crosses his arms. “Why are you sleeping in the hallway.” 

Wei Wuxian know it’s a rhetorical question just by the tone his brother uses. He groans, “I’m not sleeping. I’m displaced.”

“From what.”

“My bed,” Wei Wuxian says, lowering his arm to glare at the ceiling. “Something spilled. I don’t even know what it was. It was wet and suspicious and I refuse to investigate further.”

Nie Huaisang nods sympathetically, “Valid.”

“So your solution was the floor.” Jiang Cheng closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Not even your own floor.” His tone is exasperated and he doesn’t open his eyes to look at Wei Wuxian again as he braces himself for the answer.

“I was thinking about my options,” Wei Wuxian says. “I can’t remember the last time I vacuumed my floor so there’s definitely doritos. You know when all that’s left is the little pieces at the bottom and you have to-”

From the living room doorway, Lan Wangji appears. His hair is loose, his expression calm, and his eyes go immediately to Wei Wuxian. “What happened?” Lan Wangji interrupts Wei Wuxian’s monologue.

Wei Wuxian pauses to look at him, “My bed betrayed me.”

Lan Wangji steps closer, surveying the blankets, the pillow, the general mess of it all. “You can clean it in the morning.”

“Do not encourage him,” Jiang Cheng says, moving his hand away from his face to cross them over his chest again. 

Lan Wangji ignores him. He bends slightly and offers Wei Wuxian his hand, “Come.”

Wei Wuxian blinks up at him, “Where?”

“My room.”

Jiang Cheng immediately straightens, “Hold on-”

“It’s late,” Lan Wangji says evenly, “He cannot sleep here.” The rebuttal dies in Jiang Cheng’s throat because that’s what he’s been saying this entire time.

Wei Wuxian’s face lights up instantly. He takes Lan Wangji’s hand without hesitation and lets himself be pulled to his feet. “Lan Zhan,” he says, delighted, “You’re my hero.”

Lan Wangji gathers the abandoned pillow and blanket quietly, hands them to Wei Wuxian, and guides him down the hall with a hand on his shoulder. As they reach the bedroom, Lan Wangji opens the door and steps aside, letting Wei Wuxian enter first. The door shuts softly behind them.

Nie Huaisang, still standing in the hallway, watches and whispers, “we’re already to the sharing bed phase.”

Nie Huaisang watches over the top of his phone, invested in this now. His eyes shift between Lan Wangji’s unwavering expression to Wei Wuxian’s grin.

After not getting the reaction he wanted, Wei Wuxian decides to switch tactics. “Lan Zhan.” Lan Wangji does not look up and another second passes. “Lan Zhan.” Nothing. 

Nie Huaisang’s phone dips a little as he watches more openly now.

“Lan Zhaaaan,” Wei Wuxian sings this time, dragging it out and positive that can’t be ignored. This time, he reaches up and pokes a finger directly into Lan Wangji’s cheek. Lan Wangji still doesn’t look up. He does, however, turn the page of his book. 

Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows climb toward his hairline.

Without warning, Wei Wuxian rolls right off the couch in one fluid motion. He slides down and then forward, slipping neatly between Lan Wangji’s knees. The cushions dip slightly under the added weight as he plants his hands on either side of Lan Wangji’s hips, arms braced, body effectively boxing him in.

He leans forward until his face is pressed right into the narrow space between Lan Wangji’s arms, completely blocking his view of the book.

“Lan Zhan, hi!” Wei Wuxian beams, smiling like he’s just won a bet and is delighted by it.

From this angle, Nie Huaisang can clearly see Lan Wangji’s expression: unamused. Lan Wangji’s eyes narrow just slightly, jaw tightening, the faintest crease forming between his brows. He does not shove Wei Wuxian away. He does not speak. He does not even try to move the book. He simply looks down at Wei Wuxian, unimpressed and entirely used to this.

Wei Wuxian stays there, grinning up at him like this is exactly where he belongs. 

Wei Wuxian laughs. “That feels like a challenge.”

“Wei Ying.”

Lan Wangji says his name calmly, from very close by. Close enough that Wei Wuxian jumps anyway.

“Oh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says, hand flying to his chest. “Where did you come from?”

“I was standing here.”

From somewhere down the hall comes a loud thump.

“Ow,” Nie Huaisang yelps, “why is there a laundry hamper here?”

“It’s always there,” Jiang Cheng calls.

“Well it shouldn’t be!”

Wei Wuxian starts toward the direction he heard Lan Zhan’s voice come from, arms outstretched dramatically. “Lan Zhan, my beloved, I’m coming to save you.”

Lan Wangji’s hand catches his wrist before he takes more than two steps.

“There’s a chair,” he says.

Wei Wuxian stops short. “Hey, I was supposed to save you.” He whines.

Another crash from down the hall.

“I HATE THIS HOUSE,” Nie Huaisang declares. “WHY ARE THERE SO MANY WALLS.”

Wen Qing sighs, having made her way to the living room that’s quickly becoming the meeting spot. “You’re… in a house.”

“I AM TEAM TOO MANY WALLS!” Wei Wuxian yells and then starts laughing. Lan Zhan is still holding his wrist to lead him through the dark.

Jiang Cheng appears out of the darkness like an annoyed ghost. “Why are you all yelling?”

“Because,” Nie Huaisang says faintly, “I just slapped a lamp I thought was a person.”

Lan Wangji steps forward, steady and unbothered, navigating the dark like he’s memorized the floor plan - which, honestly, he probably has.

“Everyone stop moving,” he says.

They do.

There’s a pause then Wen Qing says, “Why did that work?”

“Because he sounds like authority,” Wei Wuxian replies.

Lan Wangji ignores him. “Phones. Flashlights.”

A few seconds later, soft beams of light cut through the dark. Jiang Cheng squints at the sudden brightness.

Nie Huaisang exhales shakily. “Okay. Okay. No more surprises.”

Wei Wuxian beams his flashlight under his chin. “Boo.”

Nie Huaisang trips backward immediately, slamming into Jiang Cheng.

“WEI WUXIAN,” Jiang Cheng roars.

“I didn’t jump out!” Wei Wuxian protests. “I was standing right here.”

Lan Wangji reaches out, gently pushes Wei Wuxian’s phone down so the light isn’t in anyone’s face.

“Behave,” he says.

“BOO!”

Nie Huaisang shrieks. It is not a dignified sound. It is high-pitched and panicked, a sharp yelp that echoes down the stairwell, immediately followed by him flailing backward and nearly dropping everything in his hands.

“WEI WUXIAN!” he wails.

Jiang Cheng, standing a few feet away, bursts out laughing so hard that he has to grab the railing for support. “OH MY GOD,” he manages between gasps.

Wei Wuxian doubles over, cackling. “You should’ve seen your face!” He laughs.

“I think I saw my ancestors,” Nie Huaisang says dramatically, pressing a hand over his heart like he’s about to faint.

Still laughing, Wei Wuxian spins around to celebrate-

-and walks directly into Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian screams. It’s loud. Sharp. Entirely instinctive. He jerks backward so fast he nearly trips over his own feet, heart slamming against his ribs.

Lan Wangji blinks. That’s it. No other reaction. His eyes widen just slightly, hands still resting neatly at his sides, posture perfectly composed. He isn’t sneaking. He isn’t hiding. He isn’t trying to scare anyone. He has simply arrived.

Jiang Cheng completely loses it. He sinks down onto his knees, still clutching the railing with tears in his eyes.

Nie Huaisang collapses against the wall, wheezing. “KARMA!!” he yells between breaths.

Wei Wuxian points accusingly at Lan Wangji, his other hand pressed firmly to his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart. “Do your feet even touch the ground?!” he demands, voice pitched somewhere between awe and mock outrage.

Lan Wangji frowns slightly, clearly confused.

“I need to put a bell on you,” Wei Wuxian continues, still panting. “A warning system. Something. That was terrifying.”

Lan Wangji looks genuinely perplexed. “…I was walking.”

“That’s worse!” Wei Wuxian cries. “That’s so much worse.”

Jiang Cheng finally manages to stand, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “You deserve that.”

“Absolutely deserved,” Nie Huaisang adds, carefully avoiding eye contact like one more glance might send him into another fit of laughter.

Wei Wuxian shoots them both a deeply betrayed look. Jiang Cheng just snickers in response.

He glances back at Lan Wangji, who is still standing there, calm and unmoved, like he hasn’t just caused a near-death experience.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Wei Wuxian pouts.

Lan Wangji stiffens. Jiang Cheng howls. Nie Huaisang starts laughing all over again. Wei Wuxian exhales shakily, still catching his breath, and grins despite himself.