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Chapter Text

“Wei Wuxian!” 

Something soft and square hit him in the face. He opened his eyes and fuck it was bright. He squinted at Wen Qing where she stood in the kitchen, hands on her hips, glaring at him. Wen Ning was sitting at the table, looking a little cowed and not making eye contact. Wei Wuxian sat up gingerly, wrapping the blanket over his head in an effort to quell the headache that was threatening to turn into a full-on migraine.

“Aiyah, it’s so early Wen Qing. You know how late I was out last night! A man needs his beauty sleep.” He tried fluttering his eyelashes at her and had to stop when the action made his stomach roil dangerously.

That didn’t earn him even a flicker of pity or a fond eye-roll which, rude . Wen Qing maintained her steely gaze, not backing down an inch.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Um, the 12th?” he guessed. That sounded reasonable. This time it did get him an eye-roll, although he wasn’t reading a whole lot of fondness in it.

“It’s the 14th. Which means…?”

“...That I need to pay more attention to my calendar?”

“It means you’re two weeks late on this month’s rent!” Wei Wuxian grimaced as she plowed on, “I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, but this is beyond taking advantage of my brother’s kindness. I know he’ll never say anything to you, you’re his best friend. So I’ll say it for him- you have until the first of the month to pay this and next month’s rent, otherwise you’ll need to find your own place.”

Though her words were clearly an ultimatum, she didn’t say any of it unkindly. It was just in her usual direct manner. Glancing over at Wen Ning, Wei Wuxian could see that he looked guilty, wringing his hands in his lap. But he also didn’t look like he completely disagreed with his sister. And that was fair, Wei Wuxian had gotten a bit complacent. He wasn’t planning to crash on Wen Ning’s couch forever after they graduated. Without the financial support of the Jiangs, it was just supposed to be until he figured things out and landed a steady job. Which...never happened. He bumped around from one thing to the next, service industry to retail, even temping for a brief period, but never stuck with anything for longer than a few weeks. He would always end up in some kind of misunderstanding with management- never his fault of course. They just couldn’t appreciate his genius ideas for new marketing strategies or boosting employee morale, always droning on about the value of providing a reliable experience to the customer and adhering to the corporate vision .

At least he always had his music. At that point he had probably played at every coffee shop open-mic in the city, trying out whatever new technique or instrument he could. It didn’t make him a lot of money, but between that and his sporadic “traditional” employment, he always managed to scrape up enough for rent, give or take a week.

Lately though he had been in a bit of a slump. He was tired of trying to mold himself to fit a job that only lasted two weeks. And yes, no matter what Wen Qing said, he did actually try. At least in the beginning. Well sort of. Anyway, he knew he needed to get his shit together. Maybe this would be the motivation he needed to finally jumpstart his life.

His mind wandering, Wei Wuxian looked back up at Wen Qing who had one perfectly arched brow raised at him in expectation. She was clearly waiting for an answer. “I’ll get the money Wen Qing,” he raised three fingers and threw a wink at Wen Ning who returned it with a smile that looked more like a grimace, “I promise.”

It was the next day and Wei Wuxian was downtown, excited to temporarily put his manic energy to rest with a good jam session. “That was a great set the other night, we should totally do something like that for the Battle of the-” Wei Wuxian stopped in his whirlwind trajectory through the studio when he saw an unfamiliar face. “Who the hell is this guy?”

The man in question raised a hand in greeting, smiling, but with a glint in his eyes that was decidedly unfriendly. “The name’s Xue Yang.”

“Okaaay, cool,” he swiveled his head to look in the direction of Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu, “I’ll ask again. Who the hell is this guy?”

“ This guy is taking over lead guitar and vocals,” Wen Chao bit out, his chin jutting up a little.

“What does that even mean? I’m our lead guitar and vocals,” Wei Ying countered, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And most everything else if we’re being honest,” he mumbled the last part, but Wen Chao still heard if the snarl that appeared on his face was any indication.

“We’re replacing you. If we ever want to make it big, we need a consistent sound. You’re too experimental! How are we supposed to create a brand if you never let us play the same thing twice?” He was full-on shouting by the end.

“It’s not about creating a brand ,” he threw the word back in Wen Chao’s face, “it’s about the music . Which you would get if you gave even a little bit of a shit about the artistry of the craft.”

“Artistry of the craft, honestly. Do you hear yourself when you talk?” Wen Chao snarled, “Not all of us are happy to be failing musicians. Some of us want to make a name for ourselves. We’ve already voted so you can take your artistry of the craft somewhere else.”

There was clearly no point in trying to make them understand. They were so far up their own assholes they wouldn’t recognize true artistry if it was standing right in front of them. Which it was. Clearly.

“Fine, good luck with this store-brand Wei Wuxian you picked up out of the dumpster. I’ll see you at the Battle of the Bands.” He didn’t wait for a response and stormed out of the studio.

For all of his joking, Wei Wuxian was properly angry. This was his band, it was his idea to do the Battle of the Bands in the first place! And of course Wen Zhuliu hadn’t even spoken a word throughout the whole encounter, not that Wei Wuxian had expected him to. He was always annoyingly loyal to Wen Chao.

Back in the apartment, he was pacing up and down the living room, treading a line into the horrendously orange shag carpet. He should really talk to Wen Ning about his interior design stylings. Although maybe not when he was two months behind on rent. And speaking of, he had been hoping to wrangle enough cash together with the band’s upcoming performances. That was going to be pretty difficult to swing now without an actual band, even for a musical genius like Wei Wuxian. He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. Why did the world seem to have it out for him?

The phone rang, and he grabbed it, answering without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”

“I am calling for Wen Qionglin. Is he available?”

“Nope, not at the moment.” He was only partially listening, mind returning to its previous thoughts of possible employment. He felt like he had exhausted all of his internet job resources. Maybe he could check a newspaper.

“May I leave a message?”

“Go for it.” God, did they even publish job postings in the newspaper anymore?

“My name is Lan Wangji, I am the principal of Horace Lan Preparatory School. One of our teachers had an unfortunate accident on the way to school, and we do not have any available substitutes to cover for the next few...” Was there a jobs listserv he wasn’t already on? That reminded him, he should probably bother to check his emails. “...came highly recommended, and we can offer $600 per week. Do you know when he will be back? The situation is quite urgent.”

Did he say six hundred dollars a week? Before he could think twice about it, his impulsiveness got the better of him.

“Uh, you know what? He just walked in. Hey Wen Ning, phone!” Wei Wuxian tried to fumble with the phone before continuing in his best approximation of his roommate’s voice, “Hello, this is Wen Qionglin.”

Obviously he knew this was a bad idea. But the gig was $600 a week! He would be able to pay Wen Ning back in no time. It wasn’t like he would have been able to take the job for himself anyways. Finals were coming up, and Wen Ning was constantly complaining about the fact that he had chosen to do this program but he never had the time to actually teach. Plus the man on the phone sounded hot. They weren’t great reasons to lie, but he could stand to hear more of this Lan Wangji’s voice.

One record-breakingly fast shower later and an attempt to wrestle his hair into the most professional messy ponytail he could manage, Wei Wuxian was pulling his piece of shit van into the parking lot of Horace Lan Prep. Growing up with the Jiangs he had gone to good schools, but they seemed like miserably underfunded public schools compared to Horace Lan. The building looked like a castle, all stone and dark polished wood. The grounds were lush and meticulously well-maintained. There was even a miniature waterfall with a koi pond out front. 

He hadn’t even stepped inside, and already Wei Wuxian was feeling woefully out of place in his moth-eaten blazer and black jeans. The jacket was years old, the last gift he had received from the Jiangs, but at least it still fit. It wasn’t like he could afford to buy a new one. The jeans were his nicest pair, with only minimal rips. He took a breath and squared his shoulders, making his way toward the front entrance.

He was barely through the door before he spotted two imposing figures dressed in white and blue suits, speaking together across from a glass-walled room that must be the administrative offices. The men were both tall and lean, with strikingly similar features. The less friendly of the two looked up at Wei Wuxian where he was still standing in the doorway.

“Wen Qionglin, I presume?” The voice was familiar. Wei Wuxian’s suspicions had been correct then, Lan Wangji really was hot.

He nodded, extending a hand, “Aiyah, so formal! Just Wen Ning is fine.” Lan Wangji eyed his hand, but did not shake it. Shrewd eyes lingered on the worn cuffs of his jacket. Wei Wuxian tried not to squirm under his scrutiny, keeping his hand out for another awkward moment before the other man took pity on him and swooped in. 

“Wen- laoshi , I am Lan Huan, courtesy name Lan Xichen, the assistant principal. You have already spoken to my brother, Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji. We really appreciate your coming on such short notice. Horace Lan is normally much more organized than this. I hope you won’t hold this first impression against us.” His face was open and kind, with the barest hint of self-deprecation in his smile.

“Of course not! I know a thing or two about bad first impressions.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes twinkled at that, his mouth crinkling into a smile, “Is that so? Well I must get back to work, but I hope that you will settle in easily. Wangji will show you to your classroom and get you oriented.” He walked back into the office, leaving Wei Wuxian alone with Lan Wangji. He was meant to be orienting him, but the man didn’t seem particularly inclined to talk.

“So...to my classroom?”

Lan Wangji nodded and started down the hall. Wei Wuxian trailed at his side, wondering how someone so attractive could be so boring. At least his brother seemed to have a personality.

Before long, Lan Wangji stopped at a door marked ‘Room 12’ and walked in. Wei Wuxian followed.

“Good morning class.”

“Good morning Hanguang- jun ,” the children parroted back. They seemed to be well-trained in the presence of their principal. There had been no teacher in the room, but they were all sitting up straight in their chairs, desks clean, uniforms impeccable. What kind of an alien school was this where the kids just sat quietly in a classroom without supervision? Where was the slouching and paper airplanes, the graffiti and untied shoelaces? Even these ten year olds were more put together than Wei Wuxian.

“This is your substitute teacher, Wen- laoshi . He will be filling in for the time being. I trust you will make him aware of your progress in your lessons.” To Wei Wuxian he said, “The lesson plan is on the desk. Return to the office at 2:30, Meng Yao will walk you through the remaining paperwork.”

And with that he was gone. So much for orienting him. He had no idea what he was supposed to be doing! What did ten year olds need to learn? When was lunch? He voiced that question aloud, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on for the moment. A boy in the front row, who introduced himself as Lan Sizhui, gave Wei Wuxian a sympathetic smile, “We just returned from lunch Wen- laoshi .”

This was going to be the worst.

Chapter Text

Of all of the bad ideas Wei Wuxian had ever had- and there were many- this was definitely up there. How did he think he was going to make it through the rest of the day, let alone the next several weeks? He was trying to skim through the document on the desk, but he had never read a lesson plan in his life. It was all Greek to him. Squinting a little, the curriculum did actually seem to include some Latin. Great.

“Wen- laoshi , we would normally be covering our vocabulary now,” Sizhui piped up. He seemed like a nice kid, noticing that his teacher was struggling and trying to point him in the right direction.

Wei Wuxian let out a sigh, “Alright, here’s the deal. I’ve got a hangover. Who here knows what that means?”

The boy sitting behind Sizhui raised his hand, “Doesn’t that mean you’re drunk?”

“No. It means I was drunk yesterday .”

“It means you’re an alcoholic,” this was said by an imperious looking boy seated by the window.

“Wrong.”

“You wouldn’t come to work hungover unless you were. You have a disease,” he sniffed disdainfully in Wei Wuxian’s direction. He would get along well with Jiang Cheng.

“What’s your name?”

“Jin Ling,” he looked like he was doing Wei Wuxian a favor by answering his question. These kids had no respect for their elders.

“Jin Ling, shut up.” The boy’s mouth fell open. Some of the other kids sniggered. “The point is, you can all just relax today. We can start on all this,” he gestured to the document on his desk, “tomorrow. How does that sound?”

“How do we get graded if we don’t do anything?” The kid behind Sizhui looked at Wei Wuxian suspiciously, “Do you know how much our families pay to send us here?”

“Fine. What’s your name?”

“Lan Jingyi, Wen- laoshi .”

“Jingyi then, got anything to eat?”

The boy blinked, trying to follow the abrupt change of subject, “Uh, yeah I have half a sandwich.” Wei Wuxian gestured for him to hand it over. Jingyi obliged, pulling the sandwich out from his desk, still looking at him suspiciously.

“Jingyi gets an A for the day! You see, grades aren’t all about how many words you can spell or math problems you can solve. It’s also important to learn life lessons!” Jingyi was preening, but still shot back, “Life lessons like feeding your teachers from your secret snack stash?”

Wei Wuxian spoke through a bite of sandwich, “No, life lessons like respecting your elders! Although it’s good to know there’s more where this came from.” That elicited a grimace from Jingyi.

“Alright, no more questions. Just go have recess for the rest of the day!”

The next day came far too quickly for Wei Wuxian’s liking. He had barely done anything, but had been running on pure adrenaline from the moment he got off the phone with Lan Wangji to the moment he left Horace Lan. Once he got back to his apartment, he was unconscious as soon as he hit his mattress. It was only by some minor miracle that he remembered to set an alarm for the morning. At least it was a Friday, so he only had one more day of this before he could take a well-deserved break.

He rolled out of bed, realizing that he had never changed out of his jacket and jeans from the day before. At least they were only slightly wrinkled from having slept in them. He hoped no one at Horace Lan would notice. 

Wen Ning and Wen Qing were in the kitchen eating breakfast when Wei Wuxian walked in.

“You’re up early. What’s going on?” Wen Qing’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I’ll have you know I got a job! I’m temping like Wen Ning does!”

“I’m a sub. ”

“Yeah, well. I’m a working stiff, just like you guys. You should be happy for me!”

Wen Ning gave him an encouraging smile. He tried not to think too much about it, smiling back cheerily. Wen Qing sighed, “I am. I just want you to find something that you’re good at. Something that sticks. Something you can make a career out of.”

Wei Wuxian thought back to the day he had shown up on Wen Ning’s doorstep in the rain, sopping wet and pitiful. Yu- furen ’s words rang in his ears, he was a bad influence , a distraction to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli , and would never amount to anything. The only reason he had been given the freedom to finish his music degree was because he agreed to stay away from his adopted siblings. Deep down, he knew that Yu- furen was right, so he had accepted it. 

He couldn’t forget the hurt looks that Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli had given him when he started avoiding them on campus, but it was for the best, wasn’t it? There had been a time in the beginning when he thought he could prove Yu- furen wrong, get her to change her mind by excelling in all of his classes, but it hadn’t made a difference. He had graduated a semester early, and gratefully avoided anymore run-ins with his former family after that.

Now, so many years later, and what did he have to show for his efforts? He had earned his degree, but could barely call himself a musician. His band was in shambles. He had a decent job, but he had probably committed identity fraud to get it. Yu- furen really was right about him.

He grabbed a granola bar from the cupboard and made his way to the door, his good mood from earlier having steadily fizzled out.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

Wei Wuxian’s stormy attitude remained in full force when he arrived at Horace Lan.

“Are you ever going to teach us anything?” Jin Ling’s voice pierced the fog of Wei Wuxian’s self-hatred.

“Just do whatever you want today.” He barely had the energy to raise his head from where it rested in his hands on his desk.

“We did that yesterday. I want to learn from my teacher.”

“Ugh, besides that,” Wei Wuxian had never had the desire to smack a child before, but the idea was slowly growing on him the more Jin Ling spoke. “Jingyi, what do you like to do?”

“I dunno, burn stuff?” Sizhui discreetly elbowed his friend in the stomach.

“That’s not going to happen. Just go have recess.”

“My parents aren’t spending $15,000 a year for recess .” Jin Ling cut in, arms crossed impetuously.

“Fine, you want a lesson? Just give up! The world doesn’t care where you came from, or how hard you work. You can try to swim upstream against the status quo, but you’re only going to end up drowning. You’re never going to beat The Man. The Man is always going to stand in your way!” He felt a little unhinged.

“Who?”

“The Man! You know, the establishment. The rule-creators, the rule- enforcers . The Man is everywhere. In the government, in your house, up the hall. Your Hanguang- jun , he’s The Man.”

The kids were mostly looking at him blankly. Sizhui’s face was respectfully confused. Jingyi looked like he might almost be at the edge of a breakthrough. Wei Wuxian barreled on.

“There’s no point in fighting The Man, you should just give up!-”

“Wen- laoshi , it is past 10.” Lan Wangji was standing in the doorway, face impassive, “The students have their music lesson now.” Wei Wuxian tried to compose himself under his stony gaze.

“Uh, yeah. Good work kids. We’ll continue with this important lesson on dismantling oppressive power structures when you get back.”

What a disaster. He couldn’t keep his own personal shit out of his professional life for two days ? It was no wonder he could never keep a job down. He was walking the halls of Horace Lan, trying to burn off some of his nervous energy when he heard it.

Music. Somewhere in this godforsaken stone prison there was music playing. And even if it wasn’t really his style, he had spent years studying all kinds of music, and there was always something about hearing good music that calmed him down. It focused his energy the way nothing else did.

He followed the sound to its source and was amazed to see his students. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised considering Lan Wangji had just interrupted his class to take them to their music class , but somehow this wasn’t what he had expected. They were playing a Haydn piece for orchestra that Wei Wuxian vaguely remembered from his studies in college. Most of them looked bored out of their minds. But they were good. More than good really, they were amazing . They might be a bunch of kids, but they rivaled some seasoned artists he knew for pure, unadulterated talent.

It gave him an idea. He ran out to his van before he could second-guess himself.

An hour later the students were filing back into the classroom. The room was now dotted with all variety of instruments, and they stole wary glances at Wei Wuxian where he sat on top of his desk.

“Wen- laoshi , what is all of this?” Ouyang Zizhen asked, his eyes wide.

“You guys have been holding out on me! Why didn’t anyone tell me you could play so well!” He was met with general shrugging from the group. “Sizhui, you ever played the electric guitar before?”

The boy looked towards his shoes, “No, my uncle doesn’t allow loud music at home.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re not at home.” He handed him his Ephiphone Les Paul, “Give this a try. Now Jingyi, I could spot your untapped potential from a mile away. Your drum-shredding is absolutely wasted on Haydn. You’re going to love the Pearl Roadshow.” His excitement kept building as a vision started to form in his mind.

“Alright everyone, here is your first class project. It’s called Rock Band! We’re gonna need everybody to pull their weight on this one. That means no slacking off!”

A skinny boy with a sparkly barrette in place to keep his hair out of his eyes raised his hand. “Yes, Mo Xuanyu?”

“Can I be the band’s stylist?”

“Sure, knock yourself out kid. Now where are my singers?” He conducted a few auditions on the fly, assigning the singing roles and other instruments, as well as roadies and security. That only left Mianmian, a-Qing, and Jin Ling without an assignment. He racked his brain for something for them to do.

“Alright, you guys are groupies.”

“What’s a groupie?” Jin Ling pouted.

“They’re only one of the most important parts of the whole band! I need you to absolutely worship the band. You’ll be doing everything, designing merch, oh- and I’m tasking you with something of vital importance. Coming up with the band’s name.”

He set up each group of students and walked the musicians through some basic beginner exercises. Talented as they all were, it was clear that those talents had never been encouraged outside the realm of classical music. Here was something he was actually classified to teach. Not in any official or legal capacity probably, but that ship had obviously already sailed. He was going to show these kids what music could really do.

It was a new week, and for once Wei Wuxian was excited. He had a goal, a purpose, something to look forward to. He pulled into the school parking lot, ready to create something amazing. He had barely stepped out of his van when he was ambushed by Jin Ling.

“Good morning Jin Ling,” he saluted and schooled his features into his best approximation of a serious teacher's face.

“Groupie?!”

“Eh, what’s wrong with you?”

“I looked up groupies on the internet last night.” Jin Ling clenched his fists, “They’re sluts, they sleep with the band!”

“Uh, woah there. No, they’re not. They’re like cheerleaders,” Wei Wuxian tried to placate him.

“I don’t want to be a cheerleader. My dad is on the school board, and I don’t think he would be happy to hear about this.”

Getting anyone’s parents involved was the last thing Wei Wuxian wanted. “Okay, you know what? I actually created a special position for you, but I didn’t want to make the other kids feel bad.”

Jin Ling crossed his arms, but glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, you’ll be our band manager. I can’t always be on top of things, so it’ll be your job to make sure everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to. You’re basically gonna run the whole show.”

Jin Ling pursed his lips, thinking it over. “Alright, I accept your offer.” Wei Wuxian tried to repress the urge to roll his eyes, instead sticking his hand out. They shook on it. “Pleasure doing business with you Jin Ling.”

Minor crisis averted, he strolled into the teachers’ lounge with all the confidence in the world, following the scent of coffee. His eyes were instantly drawn to a figure in his periphery, the man’s white suit standing out against the rich wood paneling of the walls.

“Ah Lan Zhan, fancy seeing you here!” He gave a broad, beaming smile that he knew to be one of the most effective in his arsenal. It seemed to have no effect.

“This is the teachers’ lounge. There is nothing of note about my presence here. Or your own for that matter.”

“I just wouldn’t have pegged you for a morning water cooler chat-type. I figured you’d be up in your tower, brooding or something.”

“Ridiculous. Horace Lan does not have a tower.”

“It’s a metaphorical tower Lan Zhan!”

“Mn,” he barely deigned to dignify that with a response, just gave the slightest purse of his lips before spinning on his heel and walking out the door.

“What’s with him?” Wei Wuxian muttered. His attempts at being friendly rarely evoked such an immediate negative response. Unless you were Wen Chao, but Wen Chao was an asshole no matter what. He could tell that Lan Wangji had infinitely more depth than Wen Chao. It was a pretty low bar for comparison, but still. As boring as he was, Wei Wuxian found Lan Wangji intriguing. And he had never known how to let sleeping beasts lie.

“Hanguang- jun doesn’t really like anybody. Don’t take it personally.” One of the other teachers sidled up to him, placing a mug of coffee in his hands.

“Oh, thanks. I’m Wei- er, Wen Ning. I just started subbing here.”

“Welcome to Horace Lan! I’m Nie Huaisang. I teach the third graders, which mostly means wondering if I’m wasting my art history degree and teaching macaroni art. My brother, Nie Mingjue, teaches P.E.” He pointed to a muscular, broad-shouldered man seated across the room. He was speaking to Lan Xichen in hushed tones, their heads close. The two looked...friendly to say the least. It made Wei Wuxian all the more curious about Lan Wangji. His brother seemed so genuine and relaxed, so the emotional constipation wasn’t some kind of genetic trait.

“So what’s Lan Wangji’s deal?”

“He’s a great principal, but I’ve been here three years and never seen him socialize with any of the teachers. I mean, besides his brother. Although there was one year at the staff holiday party where he had one sip of mulled wine and just sat in a corner humming The Smiths. But I’ve never seen anything like that since.”

That was interesting. There was clearly more going on under the staid and stoic surface than met the eye. And he didn’t have terrible taste in music like Wei Wuxian would have guessed. He had been picturing Lan Wangji up in his metaphorical tower listening to Bach or something else similarly archaic and dramatic. The Smiths he could work with.

It was the end of another day, and Wei Wuxian had rifled through his extensive CD collection the night before to create his best approximation of a homework assignment for the students. Their musical knowledge was woefully lacking beyond the classical mainstays, but he was determined to show them the light. He gave each of the students a CD for assigned listening, and was starting to pack up his things to leave when he realized there was one student still lurking along the edges of the classroom.

“Hey Zizhen, what’s up?”

“Wen- laoshi , I don’t want to be a roadie,” his eyes were downcast, not quite willing to meet his teacher’s gaze.

“Ok, well how about security? You could be good at that!”

“I want to be a singer.” A slight blush was traveling up his neck.

“A singer? Show me what you’ve got then.”

The boy continued to fidget. “Zizhen, I can’t let you be a singer if I don’t know what you sound li-”

In a rush, Zizhen burst out with sixteen bars from the climax of “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, his eyes scrunched shut the entire time.

Wei Wuxian wiped away an imaginary tear. His students continued to surprise him. “Zizhen, that was amazing!” The boy peeked up at him, his face beet red. “Where have you been hiding that voice? You’re in!” He clapped him on the back, handing him a different CD from the stack before sending him on his way with a bounce in his step that hadn’t been there before.

Wei Wuxian was leaning against his van in the parking lot the next morning before school started. It was still a little early, and he didn’t have to be in the classroom just yet. Fall had slowly started to settle in as the days crept on, and it was the first day that he could smell the crispness of the air, so he was enjoying it before he had to be inside under the fluorescent lights for hours. 

He had the perfect vantage point to watch a sleek white sedan pull up to the front entrance. Sizhui got out of the back seat, and he almost shouted to greet him when a tall, stern-looking man immediately got out of the front seat. Distantly he could hear the older man speaking to Sizhui who appeared a little browbeaten, continuing a conversation that had evidently been going on for a while.

“I don’t want to hear any more of this rock music! You are only to play what your music teacher assigns. Do you understand, Sizhui?” The boy nodded in acquiescence and walking dejectedly into the school. The man gave a long-suffering sigh before stepping back into his car and driving off.

Wei Wuxian considered the interaction. There seemed to be a notable lack of confidence going around in his classroom that he couldn’t abide by. He thought back to his conversation yesterday with Zizhen. The boy had the voice of an angel, but was carrying so much shame about wanting to sing that it had taken him a whole week to speak up. It was clear that these weren’t isolated instances. Confidence was an integral part of rock and roll. They were just kids, and emotionally repressed prep school kids at that, so it really wasn’t such a wonder that they had a hard time standing up for themselves. Most of them probably came from high-strung, high-achieving families who expected nothing less than perfection from them. Wei Wuxian had been in their shoes, many years ago, though he had never really suffered from low self-confidence. But he had always been the exception, not the rule. 

Living on the streets as a child had molded him into a quick thinker, adaptive and entrepreneurial. There was no time for self-doubt when you were always looking for your next meal. Even after the Jiangs took him in, that attitude wasn’t something so inconsequential that it could be sloughed off easily. Some people- he tried and failed not to think of Yu- furen - saw his carefree attitude as arrogance, a lack of gratefulness for the privileges that he had been given in life. In reality though, it was the only way he knew how to survive, and it had gotten him this far.

Through circumstance, he had learned to fight for the things he wanted, to go after them without asking permission. Sure, he could think of a couple glaring instances where it hadn’t served him well, but never let it be said that Wei Wuxian didn’t always stick to his own principles, even when it hurt.

The kids didn’t need to lug around all of the baggage that he did, but there were other ways to arrive at the same destination. His planned lesson on the rise of the psychedelic subculture would have to wait a little. This was vastly more important. Making his way to Room 12, he erased all of the genre maps they had been going over and replaced them with two characters: 无愧. This called for a new lesson.

Not long after, he was standing in front of the class, hands clasped behind his back. “Who can tell me what I’ve written on the board?”

Jin Ling, ever eager to prove himself, raised his hand, “ Wukui . It means no shame, or no regret.”

“Right.” He ambled up and down the rows of desks as he spoke. “Now what does this have to do with rock and roll?” No one offered up any ideas. It was still early in the morning, so he gave them some credit. Under normal circumstances, he would probably have been right there with them.

“No one? Alright, I’ll tell you. Rock and roll means that you can’t live with regrets. You have to be willing to break the rules, and do it with confidence! Remember what I told you about The Man?” Some of the students nodded in recognition. “Well The Man wants you to follow the status quo. The system doesn’t reward disruptors, which is why you need to be willing to dismantle the system!”

“I thought you told us to just give up?” Jingyi offered, his face a mask of confusion. That had admittedly not been Wei Wuxian’s finest moment, but he was determined to make his point. “All good artists have been where you are now. When you start to question the system is when The Man is at his most vulnerable. He gets his power from your compliance. He wants to see you fail. That’s why you have to stick it to The Man by breaking his rules!”

“Who wants us to fail? I thought this was just for an assignment,” Zizhen asked.

Wei Wuxian tried not to scoff. “This is so much bigger than an assignment, Zizhen. There will always be people, agents of the system, who want you to fail. You have to stand up to them, hold your ground. Be firm in your principles. You can’t be afraid to stick it to The Man. Here, let’s try something.” He made his way back to the front of the room.

“Right now, I’m The Man. Who’s going to stand up to me?”

Jingyi, needing little prompting, threw out, “Shut the hell up Wen- laoshi !”

“Very good, who else? Don’t be afraid to take your rage out on me.”

“You’re a disgrace. You’re the worst teacher I’ve ever had!” Jin Ling growled.

“Very nice Jin Ling, I could really feel the anger in that. Keep going!”

“You dress like shit, get some new clothes!” 

“You’re not a real teacher, you’re just a sub!”

“You don’t belong at Horace Lan!” 

“Sizhui, what about you?” The boy, normally a regular participant, had stayed unusually quiet during the lesson, but now the cognitive dissonance he was experiencing was clear on his face.

“Remember, I’m not your teacher right now. I’m The Man. What would you say if I was trying to tell you what to do?”

“I don’t know, step off?” It was said quietly, and he still looked decidedly uncomfortable, but it was a start.

“You gotta say it like you mean it Sizhui. Come on!” he said encouragingly.

“Step off!” His face flushed a little.

“Excellent, that was great Sizhui!” Jingyi thumped him on the shoulder, a wide grin plastered across his face. Sizhui ducked his head.

“You’re tacky and I hate you!” A high voice chirped.

“Alright, alright, thank you Mo Xuanyu. I think you’ve all gotten the point now. Are we ready to pick back up where we left off yesterday?”

Never had he spent a morning having insults hurled at him and felt more satisfied. Some of them had hit a little close to home, but he was nothing if not resilient. They didn’t hurt him the way they might have coming from someone else. And they were just kids. It was healthy to have them work out their adolescent aggression in a safe, forgiving environment. He wondered if there was an alternate universe where he got to do this kind of thing every day, and then thought that that was probably too much to ask.

That afternoon he had lunch duty, so he joined Nie Huaisang and his brother at the teachers’ table in the cafeteria. Ever as a moth to a flame, his eyes were drawn to Lan Wangji who stood off to the side of the room. His features were impassable, eyes surveying the room as the children trickled in. Their eyes met for a moment, and Wei Wuxian threw a wink his way. Lan Wangji’s jaw clenched imperceptibly, and he didn’t need to hear the word spoken aloud to know what he was thinking. “Ridiculous.”

He sat down, chatting mildly with Nie Huaisang who was complaining about the small hoard of gluey macaroni noodles he had found piled up in one of his student’s desks. He had had to stay late last night to clean it all up. 

“I know they’re only 8, and I should be more understanding, but who even does that? I think I’m going to have to revoke all of their macaroni privileges and come up with a new assignment. I don’t want to have to deal with that again!” 

Nie Mingjue nodded along, seemingly content to let his brother dominate the discussion with his macaroni woes. In the few interactions Wei Wuxian had had with him, he only really spoke up when they talked about sports. Or when Lan Xichen was there. Nie Huaisang opened his mouth to continue his rant when Zizhen made his way over to the teachers’ table.

“Wen- laoshi , I just wanted to tell you that that was a really cool lesson. I learned a lot.”

He beamed back at the boy, “Thanks Zizhen, I’m glad you liked it! I’ll see you back in class, alright?” Zizhen  smiled and nodded enthusiastically before heading back to his table.

“Wow, you really must have made a good impression! These kids are usually impossible to please, just like their parents.” Nie Huaisang was looking at Wei Wuxian in awe. Even Nie Mingjue looked impressed. He thumbed his nose, feeling at odds with the compliments. He turned and spotted Lan Wangji, again entering his line of sight, who had drifted closer to their table in his slow circling of the cafeteria, one hand tucked perfectly behind him. He was looking at Wei Wuxian curiously, his face unreadable. Wei Wuxian forced himself to look away, and addressed Nie Huaisang with a cavalier smile, “What can I say? I’m just doing my job.”

Their conversation made its way to their plans for the upcoming weekend. Nie Mingjue mentioned the wrestling match that he and Lan Xichen would be attending. “Da- ge , I don’t know how you convince Zewu- jun to go to these kinds of things. There’s a perfectly nice gallery opening that day you could go to instead!” Nie Huaisang whined.

“Xichen wouldn’t have agreed to go if he didn’t want to. It’s for charity anyways.” Nie Mingjue was rolling his eyes at his younger brother in a way that made Wei Wuxian’s breath catch in his throat. He tried not to let the momentary feeling shift his thoughts toward gloomy introspection, and allowed his mind to wander while the brothers kept up their bickering.

The Battle of the Bands would be here before they knew it. He needed to figure out a way to get the kids out of school without raising any alarms. For the audition, he felt pretty confident that they could be in and out within an hour, but the actual show was a different story. Sure, you could just show up for your slot and then leave, but half the fun was getting to soak in the experience. Sizing up the competition, basking in the adoration of the crowd, signing autographs. The kids should get the whole package deal, and it would likely take most of the afternoon, if not longer.

He figured he should at least try to get his “field trip” approved before reverting to other more ethically dubious methods. Obviously Wei Wuxian had no problem breaking the rules if need be, but it never hurt to ask first. He would need to talk to Lan Wangji.

He also wanted to see if Lan Wangji was truly as stuffy as he seemed all the time, or if it was just the version of himself that he presented at school. How deeply buried was the Lan Wangji that sang The Smiths when he was drunk? He wanted to peel back the icy and impeccably-tailored layers of Hanguang- jun and see what lay underneath. Mostly in a metaphorical sense.

The end of lunch bell rang, and he waved to Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue who showed no signs of stopping their continued argument. He saw Lan Wangji leaving the cafeteria and ran after him.

“Hey, Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, wait up! Hey-” Wei Wuxian crashed into Lan Wangji as he stopped partway down the hallway and turned towards him unexpectedly. He reached out instinctively to smooth the man’s suit where he had pressed himself into it. The suit probably cost more than his rent. Probably more than several months of his rent. Lan Wangji flinched away, putting several feet between the two of them. Wei Wuxian could still feel the sensation of firm muscles against his. Why had he called Lan Wangji over? Oh right, the field trip.

“Sorry! Eh, I was just wondering if you wanted to get a drink with me after school today? I know a really cool cafe not far from here that has great tea!” He had noticed that Lan Wangji invariably avoided the coffee machine in the teachers’ lounge in favor of the modest tea selection that was laid out beside it.

“You would like to get a drink...with me?” He still wore a slight frown, but his lips were parted in surprise. Wei Wuxian smiled what he hoped was his most disarming smile. “Of course! We can talk teaching philosophies or something.” That was the last thing he wanted to talk about, but he didn’t want to scare Lan Wangji away.

“We can meet by the front office at 3:30?” He phrased the statement as a question, like the conversation was a road he was unused to travelling.

“That sounds great! See you then!” Wei Wuxian waved cheerily and sauntered back to his classroom, leaving Lan Wangji frozen where he stood.

Chapter Text

They arrived at the cafe which was admittedly more of a bar. And not the cleanest bar either, but that was why Wei Wuxian loved it here. There was nothing like a dive bar for character, and this place had character up to the ears. He had played their weekly jam sessions a few times before getting tired of performing to the same crowd, always off in search of the rush of something new. But it was still a good spot. They were seated in a grimy booth, the red vinyl seats ripped and worn. Lan Wangji stood out like a sore thumb in his spotless white suit and sky blue tie.

“This is...a nice place,” Lan Wangji commented. His face was carefully composed.

“Right? It’s the coolest!” Wei Wuxian chose not to disclose the number of times the owner had picked him up off the floor and sent him home in a cab. A man had to have some secrets. “They do a killer 80s night on Thursday nights if you ever feel like letting loose a little after school.” He gave Lan Wangji a cheeky smile.

“Ridiculous.” It wasn’t exactly a no, so he just smiled wider. To Wei Wuxian’s credit, the bar he had taken them to did have a very nice tea selection, even if he was rarely inclined to venture into the non-alcoholic side of the menu. How was he supposed to know this would be the week that their tea supplier was having sourcing issues? He ordered a beer that he knew he liked, and Lan Wangji gamely followed suit. Wei Wuxian placed a hand over his heart, “Lan Zhan, I’m shocked! It’s a school night!”

“Ridiculous,” he huffed again, “It is only 4 o’clock.”

“Aiyah, Lan Zhan. I was only joking. Anyway here, cheers to uh..cheers to you!” He raised his glass grandly. Lan Wangji humored him by hesitantly clinking their glasses together before taking a small sip. 

“Wait right here, I’m gonna go put some music on!” He ran over to the jukebox by the door and flicked through the options before selecting This Charming Man by the Smiths. The opening beat started filtering through the bar as he made his way back to their table.

“Punctured bicycle on a hillside desolate

Will Nature make a man of me yet?”

When he sat down, he noticed Lan Wangji’s eyes were unfocused, the whorls of the wood laminate of the table apparently holding his attention rapt. He was swaying a little to the music, soundlessly mouthing the words to the song.

“Why pamper life's complexity

When the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?”

“Lan Zhan?” He was only gone for thirty seconds at most. What had even happened? Lan Wangji looked up slowly, looking deeper into his eyes than was probably appropriate for 4 p.m. in a public establishment. The sheer open sincerity of his face was so unlike his usual unflappable expression. Wei Wuxian’s heart thumped traitorously. Was he...drunk? He was! And he called Wei Wuxian ridiculous. Ridiculous was getting drunk off of one sip of beer!

“Ah, a jumped-up pantry boy

Who never knew his place…”

“Did you select this song?” His voice was somehow even deeper when he was drunk. Wei Wuxian could only nod in response. “It is a good choice.” Lan Wangji looked so soft like this, the hard edges of Hanguang- jun left behind like a coat at the door.

“You like the Smiths? I never would have guessed from the great Hanguang- jun !” Lan Wangji grimaced at the use of his title. It was strange, because he didn’t seem to have a problem when the kids called him that. He pushed the thought from his mind. Well, there was no time like the present. “Ah, Lan Zhan. I actually wanted to ask you something.” He perked up at that, refocusing his eyes on Wei Wuxian where they had started to slide down to his collarbones. Lan Wangji nodded enthusiastically.

“Anything, Wen Ning.”

“Well I actually wanted to take the kids on a field trip in a couple weeks.”

“A field trip?” He looked adorably confused.

“Yeah, the Philharmonic is in town. It would be like an educational concert!”

A frown appeared on Lan Wangji’s face. “It is against school policy for substitute teachers to organize field trips without the presence of a full-time faculty member.” He sounded like he was reciting from the school handbook.

“I know, but there’s nothing like live music, especially classical, you know? All that equalized nonsense in recordings, I just thought it would be a really unique experience for them is all. It’s good to get out of the classroom sometimes, right?”

“Mn.” He paused, looking deep in thought. “And it would be educational?”

“Oh yeah, it would definitely be educational.” Lan Wangji seemed like he was consulting some mental resource that only he had access to. “Perhaps we can make an exception, just this once.”

“Of course, just this once.” He stifled the urge to punch his fists in triumph, and nodded benignly. He reached out to lay his hands on top of Lan Wangji’s, giving the man ample time to move away from his touch. His eyes tracked the movements, but his hands stayed firmly in place. “Thank you, Lan Zhan.” The ghost of a smile brightened his features as he looked down at their joined hands. 

“No need.” 

Lan Wangji really was an enigma. He didn’t know what to do with this incomprehensible man who frowned at his jokes and called him ridiculous, but then smiled at him like he hung the moon in the sky. His heart stuttered a little. What was going on?

“Are you sure you’re good to drive? You seemed pretty…” He didn’t want to call Lan Wangji drunk to his face, “Uh, affected back at the bar.” They were back in the school parking lot now. The Smiths continued to play softly, the roar of his idling van almost drowning it out.

“I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour

But heaven knows I’m miserable now…”

“I am fine Wen Ning.” Sure enough, as he spoke Wei Wuxian could see the awareness had returned to his previously glassy eyes. “Thank you for tonight. I admit, I find this type of socializing...challenging.” The tips of his ears reddened at the admission. “This is the first time I have spent time with any of the Horace Lan faculty outside of school. They do not seem to like me very much.” His face dropped a little.

“Two lovers entwined pass me by…”

“Nah, they think you’re great! They’re probably just intimidated by the venerable Hanguang- jun .”

“And you are not?”

“Eh? Not what Lan Zhan?”

“Intimidated. By me.” His lips curled around the words in evident distaste.

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian tapped his mouth thoughtfully, “But I didn’t get drinks with Hanguang- jun . I got drinks with you , Lan Zhan!” His eyes twinkled as he smiled broadly.

“Mn.” The utterance alone didn’t signify much, but he could see by the minute crinkling of his eyes that Lan Wangji was pleased by the response. “I will see you in the morning. Goodnight Wen Ning,” he said, stepping out of the car.

“Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me…” 

Wei Wuxian was left sitting in his beat-up van in a dusky parking lot, wondering what his real name would sound like coming from Lan Wangji’s lips.

“No hope, no harm. 

Just another false alarm…”

A couple of days later and the day of the Battle of the Bands audition had finally arrived. The band still needed a name, but they were playing miles ahead from when they had first started a few weeks ago.

The most difficult logistic to nail down of the whole plan would be getting in and out of Horace Lan without anyone noticing their absence. A surprise drop-in from Lan Wangi almost ruined everything, but with the help of his more enterprising students, they were able to ensure that it was a short visit. He left with an appraising nod that Wei Wuxian was able to identify beneath his trademark mask of authority. 

He left the security team in charge of the classroom as they loaded the van and slipped out of Horace Lan as surreptitiously as they could. He sped down the highway, children and instruments alike packed into his van like a legally dubious clown car. Their timing was forcing them to cut it close, but he thought they could still make it. They arrived at the audition venue, and he and Jin Ling followed the signs to the auditorium, telling the rest of the band to wait by the van for now. Inside, most of the lights were dark and the organizers were stuffing papers into folders and folders into bags. One of them looked up. “Sorry, the slots are all filled up. Auditions are over.”

“What? No! It’s just one more band!”

“Sorry, we’re overbooked enough as it is.”

“Please, you’ve got to listen to these kids. They’re amazing!”

“That may be, but auditions are still closed. Now we’re going to need to ask you to leave.”

Sensing the rising anger of the eternally overworked and underpaid and not wanting to make a scene, they left with Wei Wuxian feeling defeated in a way he wasn’t used to. Rejection was an old friend to him by now, but the kids were naive and new to this world. Society hadn’t chewed them out and made them bitter yet. How was he going to explain this to them?

“Hey, Wen- laoshi . It’s alright, I mean there’s always next year, right?” Jin Ling nudged his side, uncharacteristically gentle. He could tell that Jin Ling was disappointed, but he still gave Wei Wuxian a half-hearted smile.

“But you guys are ready now! You deserve to be in that show!” Jin Ling pursed his lips, before the soft expression morphed into something more conniving.

“I might have an idea.”

Ten minutes later, Wei Wuxian was standing outside the doors to the auditorium when the organizers walked out.

“What are you doing here? I thought we asked you to leave.” 

He raised his hands placatingly. “I know, I know. I just wanted to apologize for earlier. It wasn’t fair to you, or to the kids.” They nodded, still eyeing him warily and continued walking. Wei Wuxian kept pace alongside them. “It’s just that I volunteer at the children’s hospital, and the kids were so looking forward to playing the Battle of the Bands.”

By then they were at the front doors with a clear view of the van. Sizhui and Zizhen were leaning heavily on one another, mouths sagging open to display their greyed tongues, courtesy of the spicy liquorice candies Jin Ling had found stuffed in the glove compartment of his van. Jingyi, ever the entertainer, was lying flat on the ground. Others were splayed out in varied and increasingly unrealistic interpretations of their imagined illness. 

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Oh it’s a rare respiratory disease. They’re all terminal.” He paused a moment for effect. “The last thing they wanted to do was play the Battle of the Bands.” Wei Wuxian didn’t think they looked remotely believable. He and Jiang Cheng never would have convinced Yu- furen to let them stay home from school as much as they did if their acting had been this bad, but when he looked over, the organizers’ eyes were shiny with unshed tears. One of them sniffed, her voice thick with emotion as she said, “Fine, you’re on the bill. But you better be on time for the actual show!”

“Of course, thank you!” He clasped his hands and bowed a little, but they were already walking away. He threw a discreet thumbs up towards the group encircling his van. They started to jump and cheer. “Shh! You’re supposed to be dying, quit it!” He tried not to roll his eyes as they went back to coughing and moaning, waiting for the organizers to drive off before piling everyone back into the van and heading back to Horace Lan.

“Wen- laoshi , we have a name for the band!” Mianmian and A-Qing were bouncing with excitement. He turned from where he was correcting Sizhui’s stance to raise his eyebrows at them. “Oh yeah? I hope it’s better than your last round of ideas. Coffin Town just sounds like a band a bunch of middle schoolers would buy merch from at Hot Topic without ever actually hearing.” 

“We are a bunch of middle-schoolers, Wen-laoshi, ” Jin Ling shot back, not even a part of the conversation, his voice dripping with insolence. Wei Wuxian just waved his hand at the comment. “Well, what have you got?” he prompted the girls.

“ Wukui xuexiao .”

“ Wukui xuexiao ...School of No Regrets?” That was honestly...kind of perfect. It felt like the complete antithesis to Horace Lan and everything it stood for, which just about summed up who Wei Wuxian was. And if it made him a little misty-eyed to think about the students taking his earlier lesson to heart well, no one else had to know but him.

“Hey Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian waved from the door of his classroom as the last of the students filed out for the day.

“Mn.” The man simply nodded in acknowledgement, but he could read Lan Wangji better than he used to. He recognized the slight crinkling of his eyes that meant he was pleased. For him, he was practically beaming.

“I just wanted to remind you about our field trip tomorrow!” The eye crinkles disappeared, replaced by a frown, evident only by the infinitesimal furrowing of his brow. “What field trip?”

“You know the educational concert we talked about the other day? The kids are so excited to see the Philharmonic!” Even if Lan Wangji had technically already said yes, he really couldn’t take it back when the hopes and dreams of children were on the line, could he? The furrowing deepened, “I had forgotten. It really is difficult to work around school policy. I do not think…”

“But you said you would make an exception, just this once. I don’t want to have to disappoint the kids.” He tried a different tactic, “Is something wrong? Are you mad at me?” he pouted.

“No, Wen Ning. I apologize. Parents’ Night has me out of sorts. I enjoy my work, but dealing with parents is...not my strong suit.” He looked up into Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Would you perhaps accompany me to Parents’ Night? Something about your presence is oddly...soothing.”

He was sure Lan Wangji didn’t mean anything by that. It wasn’t like it was a date. It was just like...carpooling.

“Well, see, I hadn’t actually been planning to go tonight, since I’m just a sub and all…?”

“The parents will be expecting to hear from their children’s teacher.” Lan Wangji’s voice brooked no argument.

Wei Wuxian thumbed his nose, “Ah, of course, of course. Then I’ll be there. Ready to show the parents everything that I’ve been teaching their kids!”

“Mn. You can pick me up at 6:30.” The relief in Lan Wangji’s face was palpable, but Wei Wuxian’s heart rate had spiked. He tried not to let the panic show on his face.

Chapter Text

“What are you all dressed up for?” 

Wei Wuxian was walking into the living room where Wen Ning sat reading through some papers for one of his classes. He was wearing a well fitted red button-down, one of the few tailored pieces he still owned, tucked into his standard black jeans. His teacher uniform had devolved into tight skinny jeans and cozy knit sweaters most days. He wasn’t committed to wearing the jacket every day, but he had brought it back for tonight. He figured he could use the extra boost of authority that he thought it gave him. He threw it unceremoniously over a chair as he responded to Wen Ning.

“I’ve got a hot date. Something you wouldn’t know anything about Mr. I Have to Study All The Time. You really need to find some extracurricular activities.”

“I’ll have hobbies again when I get my degree. I just want to focus on this for now. Is that so bad?”

Wei Wuxian sighed. Wen Ning was too genuine to tease; there wasn’t any fun in it. ”No, of course not. I know how important school is to you. I just wish you would let yourself relax sometimes!”

“I relax! A- jie and I watched Finding Nemo the other night!” He was flicking through the stack of mail on the table. “Weird, I got a check from Horace Lan for $1,200. Must be some kind of mistake.” He picked up the phone, and Wei Wuxian’s stomach dropped.

“Uh...what are you doing?”

“Calling the school. Hi-” Wei Wuxian practically threw himself across the coffee table to hang the phone up before Wen Ning could keep talking.

“What’s going on?”

“So I may have made a mistake.” Wen Ning’s eyes widened. He was no stranger to Wei Wuxian’s crazy ideas. “They called looking for subs, and I said I was you. It was just supposed to be to pay you back for the rent! I had no idea how talented the kids would turn out to be. They’re so excited to learn about music, not jaded like everyone else in this industry. You should see what these kids can do. And now we’re playing in the Battle of the Bands!” Wen Ning was looking increasingly horrified as he spoke. “Just give me one more day. Please, Wen Ning? I know I messed up. I’ll come clean tomorrow, I promise. I just can’t let the kids down, not when they’ve worked so hard.”

A knock sounded at the front door before it swung upon.

“I just had the worst shift. There’s some kind of stomach bug making the rounds, and I got thrown up on twice . Do you guys want to get takeout tonight?” Wen Ning’s eyes widened even further with panic.

“Don’t tell Wen Qing, please?” Wei Wuxian pleaded. Wen Ning’s eyes shot back and forth between his best friend and his sister. Asking this was the ultimate test of his loyalties.

“What’s going on in here?” Nothing got past Wen Qing, even coming off a twelve hour shift.

“Not much, just got a hot date, that’s what’s going on.” He grabbed his jacket from the chair, throwing Wen Ning one last entreating look before sweeping out of the room with a flourish and a wink at Wen Qing. There wasn’t much he could do now, and he was running late to pick up Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian pulled into the school parking lot, his beat up van even more out of place than usual amongst the sleek sedans and functional but still very clearly expensive SUVs that proved just how far out of his depth he was.Why did he ever think this was a good idea?

“Wen Ning.”

Lan Wangji’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. The car was parked, but he was still clutching the steering wheel. Glancing over, he could see the smallest of creases between Lan Wangji’s eyebrows.

“I guess I’m a little nervous. They’re gonna know that I’m a fraud.” He shrugged a little, trying to right the thoughts swirling in his head.

“Nonsense. You are an excellent teacher. The parents will see that.”

Lan Wangji’s earnestness cut at Wei Wuxian. The comment was meant to be encouraging, but it reminded him of all the lies he had told and just made him feel worse. He slumped further into the driver’s seat.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I -” He was interrupted by a frantic knocking at his door.

The top half of Zizhen’s face suddenly appeared beside his window. The boy was excitedly waving his hand while an older man, presumably his father, dragged him off with an apologetic look in their direction.

“We should make our way inside.”

Wei Wuxian watched as the role of Hanguang- jun settled over Lan Wangji, his shoulders somehow becoming even straighter, the steel glinting in his eyes. He looked over and there was the slightest hint of warmth as they locked eyes, nodding together.

Maybe he could do this.

He absolutely could not do this. Questions kept flying from the parents, but Wei Wuxian knew that he wasn’t answering them convincingly. What could he even convince them of? He was lying after all.

The night was destined for disaster almost as soon as it had started. He and Lan Wangji had separated immediately, parents descending upon their Hanguang- jun like vultures to a corpse once they stepped into the school. Wei Wuxian gave him a half-hearted wave and attempted to flee to the relative calm of his classroom.

Which was of course when he turned a corner and ran, quite literally, into Jiang Cheng.

“Wei Wuxian!”

“Jiang Cheng? What are you doing here?” His brain felt like molasses, trying to reconcile the vision of his estranged brother with the reality that there was absolutely no reason for him to be there at all.

“What am I doing here? Just because you’re a shit uncle who left and never met your nephew doesn’t mean I am. Jiejie and Jin Zixuan couldn’t make it to parents’ night for Jin Ling so they asked me to fill in. What the hell are you doing here?” 

Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes. Jiang Cheng was just as mad as he had ever been, even before the estrangement. It took a moment, but the full weight of the words caught up to his still slow-moving brain.

“Jin Ling?”

“Yeah, you know, your nephew? I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised. You never bothered to reach out for anything else, why would the birth of your own nephew be any different?”

Wei Wuxian’s mind was racing. Of course he had known about Jin Ling. Well, he had known about Jin Rulan. He had gotten the birth announcement, back when the Jiangs still had his address. Yu- furen would have never allowed it, so he had to assume that Jiang Yanli had sent it to him in secret. He had been so filled with joy for his shijie , followed closely by the bitterness that he wasn’t able to share it with her. Drowning in the tides of his own selfishness, he had never gotten up the courage to respond to the card.

But he had never made the connection. Jin Ling, his shijie ’s Jin Ling, was the same child he had been teaching all these weeks? Looking back now, it was shockingly clear how well he could connect the pieces of the boy’s personality to his family. His brother had obviously been a strong presence in Jin Ling’s life. He had taken on all of his uncle’s brattiness and his father’s pompousness. That combination should have made him entirely insufferable, but there was just enough of his mother’s gentle kindness running underneath it all. Wei Wuxian ached a little, thinking of what he could have given Jin Ling if he had been able to be a part of his life. He tried not to dwell on it.

“I’ve actually been teaching Jin Ling’s class.” He could see Jiang Cheng already starting to prickle and interrupted before it could turn into yelling. It was honestly a miracle he hadn’t already made a scene. “Ah, ah, just temporarily! I’m only a sub. You know me, never could keep a job down!”

Wei Wuxian rubbed the back of his neck and tried to smile, attempting to appear nonchalant. Jiang Cheng was squinting at him, not buying the explanation or the coincidence even if that was exactly what it was.

“I, uh- I know I’m in no place to ask for favors from you Jiang Cheng. But if you could just give me the benefit of the doubt here and not ask any questions until after parents’ night is over? I’ll explain everything to you after, I swear,” he lifted his hand in a three-finger salute, the muscle memory of a relic from their shared childhood flooding back to him. Jiang Cheng’s frown only grew deeper, his chin raising a little in defiance. He never liked being told what to do. But Wei Wuxian wasn’t telling him this time. He was asking.

The hallway began to fill with noise and bodies as the auditorium doors opened. It was time. Jin Ling saw his uncle and came over in a huff.

“You missed the introductions! I had to sit with Jingyi, Sizhui, and their uncle, Lan Qiren. He wouldn’t let us talk at all- Oh, hi Wen- laoshi !” 

Jiang Cheng had never properly met the Wens, but he wasn’t stupid. Wei Wuxian tried to put on his best trust-me face. It had never worked when they were kids, but there was always a first time for everything, right? 

“Come on Jin Ling,” Jiang Cheng pushed him into the classroom, throwing one last glare over his shoulder at Wei Wuxian. 

He took a breath and tried to calm his nerves before following after his brother and nephew.

So that’s where they were. Wei Wuxian was fielding attacks from the parents as best as he could, which was admittedly not very well, while Jiang Cheng stewed in the back row. Jin Ling kept looking back and forth, trying to decipher what was going on between the two of them.

“What exactly have you been teaching our children?” Lan Qiren was close to shouting, a vein throbbing in his neck, “My nephew came home with a CD of rock music , saying you assigned it as homework? I am not spending $15,000 a year for this!”

Several of the other parents were nodding along. The kids appeared largely unperturbed, if a little confused at the level of outrage.

“Ah, well you see-” Wei Wuxian started, unsure of where the rest of that sentence would lead. Intending to avoid the visual scrutiny of the parents, he looked out the door and down the hall. What he saw dried up any of the remaining words in his throat.

Wen Ning was speaking to Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, his head ducked under the weight of their combined gaze. Wen Qing was standing behind him still in her scrubs, arms crossed, the disapproval radiating off of her in waves.

He knew what had to be coming, but couldn’t quite resolve himself to the fact. He briefly locked eyes with Jiang Cheng, but knew he would find no sympathy there. He closed his eyes. Maybe he could pretend this was all an elaborate nightmare that he could wake up from.

“Wen Ning?” a low, resonant voice sounded from the doorway. No such luck. When Wei Wuxian opened his eyes, Lan Wangji was standing there, just a few feet away, his expression plaintive.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he thumbed his nose feeling sheepish under the man’s intense gaze. He had known this day was going to come eventually, hadn’t he? Granted, the exact circumstances weren’t exactly what he had imagined. But still. This wasn’t his career, it was always supposed to be another short stint on his mile-long resume of failed jobs.

And yet, at some point he had started to imagine a future there. A future where he got to teach these amazing students how much bigger the world was beyond the walls of the classroom. Where he got to feel useful and appreciated for his talents. Where he got to see Lan Zhan purse his lips in that way of his that was definitely not a smile, even if it was. Where he got to have fun, but still put something good into the world.

Except he really hadn’t done something good. He had lied. All of his students- not his , he reminded himself- they had looked up to him and he had just used them to make some money. Wei Wuxian shut his eyes again and took a breath. He faced the parents since that was easier than seeing the hurt in Lan Wangji’s eyes.

“I have to be honest. I’m not really a substitute teacher. My name is Wei Ying.”

There were some shocked gasps from the parents. He willed himself not to look over at Lan Wangji. This was only about the students.

“I may not be a real teacher, but I can tell you that your kids are crazy talented. Sizhui had never even looked at an electric guitar, and now he’s playing like no one I’ve ever seen!” Sizhui ducked his head at the praise, but Wei Wuxian could see the glint of satisfaction in his eyes even as his cheeks flushed.

“Any band would be lucky to have Jingyi as their drummer, and when Zizhen sings, it’s so beautiful it’ll bring tears to your eyes.” He felt a bit like a runaway train, unable to stop, “And god, I’m pretty sure Jin Ling is going to run the world someday.”

Jiang Cheng looked just as murderous as he did before, but there was an undercurrent of possessive pride when Wei Wuxian mentioned his nephew. Jin Ling looked less angry than his uncle, but no less haughty.

“They are seriously all so good. Not just musically, but as people. Better than most adults I know, certainly better than me. You should all be really proud. I’ve been touched by your kids, and I’m pretty sure I’ve touched them!”

And well. That went down as well as could be expected.

As if it were even possible, Lan Qiren’s face morphed from its steady red all the way to purple as he started to bluster about rules and propriety. Jiang Cheng was still seething in the back, glaring directly at Wei Wuxian. Zizhen’s dad and a couple other parents were making their way towards him with fingers pointed. Lan Xichen’s expression was politely concerned, which was all but a death knell for Wei Wuxian. He still couldn’t bring himself to look Lan Wangji in the eye. He threw one last frantic glance toward the others still standing in the doorway, hoping beyond hope for anyone to be on his side. Their faces ranged from sheer incredulity to heart-breakingly betrayed, so he just. Grabbed whatever instruments he could reach, jumped out of the first-floor window, and ran.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Wei Wuxian was not moping. He wasn’t. If it was well past noon and he hadn’t gotten out of bed, that was nobody’s business but his own. Wen Qing was still mad at him, but said she wasn’t going to kick him out yet. Technically he had paid the rent on time. Wen Ning had checked on him before leaving for class, but he could only shrug him off with half-hearted assurances that he would be fine.

Today was supposed to be the Battle of the Bands. Technically it still was. But not for him, not for the kids. He was so angry at himself. He never wanted to be one of those adults who took advantage of kids, got their hopes up and then left them disappointed. There were so many people who had made him empty promises growing up, and he knew how much it hurt. But that clearly hadn’t stopped him. He had deluded himself into thinking he was making a difference, doing something special. In the end though, he was just like every one of those selfish adults. Groaning, he threw a pillow over his head and tried to fall back asleep.

The attempt was short-lived. He woke up a short while later to someone kicking the mattress inconsiderately close to his head. Wen Ning would never, although he wouldn’t put it past Wen Qing, even in his delicate state.

“Go away Wen Qing, don’t you have lives to be saving or something?” The pillow was snatched off of his head. “Hey! I’ll get up when I feel like-” he stopped abruptly when he saw that his rapt audience was not the unsympathetic glare he had imagined. Or rather it was, there were just more glares than he was expecting.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Picking your dumbass up, what does it look like we’re doing?” Jin Ling said, not quite rolling his eyes although the sentiment was heavily implied by his tone. Jingyi nodded and crossed his arms, looking like a gangly and altogether unthreatening security guard. Sizhui looked a little uncomfortable, as though he was not quite on board with the attempted intimidation tactics.

“Wen-laoshi ...or I guess I should say Wei-laoshi now,” Sizhui may have been nervous, but he turned the full force of his kindness on Wei Wuxian and it was never going to be much of an argument, was it? Not when the kids fought this dirty. “You may not be our teacher anymore, but the band always sticks together. We need you. We worked too hard to throw this opportunity away.”

“What about your parents?,” he whined. “They don’t need another reason to think I’m a bad influence!”

Jin Ling snorted, “I’m pretty sure jiujiu already thinks you’re a bad influence. Lan Qiren definitely does. Who cares?”

“Wasn’t it you who taught us how to Stick it to the Man?” Jingyi said with a smirk, “I don’t think it gets more Sticking it to the Man-y than this! What about living with no regrets, huh?” He was smiling triumphantly as if he had made some incontrovertible point.

“Oh, so you only listen to me when I tell you to break the rules! Where was this attention when I was teaching you the difference between bebop and swing, eh?” Wei Wuxian dragged his hands over his face, but he knew he could never say no. He may not have ever been a real teacher, but somewhere along the way they had learned something from him. 

For better or for worse, they were playing the Battle of the Bands.

“ Fine . Let me just get dressed.” 

There was cheering and a light smack that might have been a high five as he turned and started rummaging through the pile of clothes on the floor.

These kids were going to be the death of him. But he couldn’t help smiling too.

The eager and excited energy on the bus ride over took on a more frenetic air once they arrived at the venue, the kids practically vibrating with anticipation. Wei Wuxian spotted Wen Chao, Wen Zhuliu, and their shitty knockoff replacement of him. What even was that guy’s name again? Wen Chao saw him and bared his teeth in some kind of primitive display of aggression. He ignored the trio in favor of ferrying the kids to a quiet spot to focus.

When a harried-looking volunteer with a headset let him know that they were on next, Wei Wuxian gathered the kids into a huddle around him. It was the duty of any self-respecting band leader to appropriately hype up his fellow bandmates, and he would be loath to shirk that all-important responsibility.

“Before we go out there, I just want you all to know how proud I am. We wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you. Hell, I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t come and got me. And the fact that you believed in me enough to-”

“Wei-laoshi , shut up . None of this sappy shit. Just go play a kick-ass show!” Jin Ling was so clearly his father’s son. And his uncle’s nephew. He looked just as imperious as ever, but Wei Wuxian knew him well enough now to know better. He was his mother’s son too.

“Okay, okay, you heard the man. Everyone hands in. ‘No regrets’ on three. One. Two. Three!”

“ No regrets!!! ”

The kids were all but exploding with excitement as they crowded together off-stage, jumping and cheering and high-fiving each other. It was a far cry from the emotionally repressed robot children he had first met. Wei Wuxian stepped to the side and just watched, trying to drink in the moment. There was nothing quite like the feeling of playing an amazing show. His heart clenched a little seeing how much the kids had grown even in just a few weeks.

He moved to the side to let the next group, a duo in simple black and white, pass by to get to the stage. The man in white nodded at Wei Wuxian.

“That was a pretty impressive performance. We’ve played this circuit for a while, and it was honestly starting to get a little stale. You really helped breathe some life into the show this year.”

The emcee introduced the two as Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan, and they walked onstage to cheers from the crowd. Wei Wuxian didn’t recognize their names, but he’d have to look them up later. He could tell that they weren’t just in it for the money or the fame. They were true artists.

A firm hand encircled his wrist, interrupting his thoughts.

“Wei Ying.” 

His heart skipped a beat. During the performance, he thought he might have seen his face in the audience, but had chalked it up to nerves and an overactive imagination.

“Lan Zhan, you came!” Unthinkingly he threw his arms around Lan Wangji’s neck. “Weren’t they amazing? I really can’t believe they came up with this plan- oh. I swear I didn’t kidnap a class full of 10 year olds and bring them here.” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, “You believe me, right?”

The full realization of their last interaction hit him, and he started to withdraw his arms. Yu- furen had always chastised Wei Wuxian for being shameless, but he did in fact possess some shame. At least when it mattered.  

A hand stopped his retreat.

“Wei Ying, I believe you.”

Wei Wuxian finally looked up at Lan Wangji properly and saw that his eyes were impossibly and exasperatedly fond.

“Really?” He was a little breathless, the post-show adrenaline still buzzing through his body.

“Mn.”

There was something else in his gaze, an intensity that Wei Wuxian couldn’t quite put into words. Lan Wangji’s eyes flicked down just for a second and oh-

Wei Wuxian smirked a little, his hand trailing down the lapel of Lan Wangji’s jacket to wrap his tie around his fist. Because of course he would be wearing a suit to a rock concert.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, looking earnestly into his eyes, “I’m going to kiss you.”

His eyes widened minutely, and there was a barely audible “Mn,” before Wei Wuxian was tugging him forward.

They kissed, though it was not much more than the soft press of lips because they were very much still surrounded by excitable children and sweaty performers. Even though he really wanted to focus all of his attention on kissing Lan Wangji, a thought crept unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He broke apart from Lan Wangji, a little breathless.

“Wei Ying?” his voice was laced with concern.

“I just realized. That was the first time you’ve called me by my name. I mean, my real name.”

Lan Wangji paused and looked into his eyes, face serious. “Wei Ying.” Wei Wuxian squirmed, unable to contain his delight. It sounded perfect, just like he had imagined. It was like music. “I will say it as many times as you wish.” Lan Wangji’s mouth brushed down the line of his jaw. “Wei Ying.” Lips trailed to the corner of his mouth. “Wei Ying.” He tilted his mouth to meet Wei Wuxian’s own, gentle and reverent.

There would obviously need to be some very honest and adult conversations in the near future, but they both knew those could wait a little. This felt like a promise. A promise for later and maybe, if Wei Wuxian was lucky, a promise for forever.

POST-CREDITS

They didn’t win the Battle of the Bands, much to Wei Wuxian’s disappointment. He couldn’t be all that upset though. Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan won, and from what he managed to hear of their performance when he wasn’t focused on kissing Lan Wangji or getting high fives from the students- hopefully not for the kissing- the win was well-deserved. 

For as mad as the parents had been at Wei Wuxian’s deception, it was nothing compared to their ire when their children lost. Prep school parents really were another species entirely. At least it meant that their “I’d like to speak with your manager” energies were being focused on unwitting stagehands and security guards instead of Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian had better ideas of how to use up Huanguang- jun ’s time, and they did not involve angry suburbanite soccer moms.

After they left the wings, Wei Wuxian was blindsided to see his shijie and her peacock of a husband in the crowd. “A-Xian,” her eyes were gentle, “I’ve missed you.” It was all he could do not to run into her arms like he had so many times as a child.

He choked out, “I’ve missed you too, shijie .” His voice was thick with emotion, eyes full of unshed tears. He felt Lan Wangji’s hand at the small of his back in a wordless show of support.

He opened his mouth to say something else when Jin Ling shoved past him, decisively shattering the moment. He tried to reign in his emotions. This wasn’t the place for what was sure to be a messy reunion.

“Um, you guys won’t have my new phone number, but-”

“My number is still the same.” Jiang Yanli said with a kind smile.

“Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll text you later then? Maybe we can find a time to talk soon?” He couldn’t help the way his words turned into questions. Who was to say that she even wanted to see him again?

“I would love that.” Her smile widened, although her eyes still held some caution. He knew that one conversation wasn’t going to fix the many years of being absent, but it was a start.

Unexpectedly, videos of the show made their way onto the internet and went semi-viral. There was enough popular support- not to mention some sizable donations from the cooler of the Horace Lan parents including, regrettably, Jin Zixuan- that Wei Wuxian was able to start an after-school music program. With the first session’s deposits, he had also been able to get his own place not too far away from the school. It meant Wen Qing wasn’t constantly in his hair about the importance of small business liability insurance which he was absolutely going to figure out at some point, he promised. She had mellowed out since Wei Wuxian had gotten his shit together. He knew that she had always just wanted the best for him. She just hadn’t appreciated him stealing her brother’s identity, which was entirely fair.

”You and Hanguang- jun are still coming to dinner on Saturday, right? You’re not going to come up with another shitty excuse to get out of it this time?” Jin Ling’s voice was accusatory. They were in the studio, and most of the kids were still trickling in on their way from school.

“I would never miss a meal with my esteemed family!” Jin Ling scrunched up his nose at the blatant lie. This was the fourth time they had scheduled this dinner. The only reason he was actually going this time was because he had forgotten to hide the invitation before Lan Wangji saw it and promptly called Jiang Yanli to confirm their attendance.

The dinner was three days away. That was enough time for him to feasibly contract a horrifyingly contagious disease or maybe break one of his less important bones. But Wei Wuxian knew that there was no way Lan Wangji would let him avoid this dinner now.

“You are rebuilding your relationships with your sister and brother. Jin Ling is proud to be your nephew. You have started a successful business. I am sure your aunt and uncle will be pleased to see the man you have become,” Lan Wangji had told him after hanging up with Jiang Yanli. Wei Wuxian had scrambled to grab the phone from his hand when he realized what was happening, but to no avail. 

In the last few months of dating, Lan Wangji had become particularly adept at predicting his antics, and the phone was kept just out of his reach. He was usually quite a fan of Lan Wangji’s long arms, especially when they were wrapped around him while they kissed, fingertips trailing up and down his back. And when they hoisted him up so he could wrap his legs around Lan Wangji’s waist. And when they......he was getting distracted . It really wasn’t fair for him to use his genetic superiority to take advantage of Wei Wuxian like this. 

But he also knew that he was right about Jiang- shushu and Yu- furen . He needed to face them, and hopefully show Yu- furen that he wasn’t the terrible influence she had said he was in college. They were all adults now, so he didn’t actually need their approval, but it didn’t change the fact that he still desperately wanted it. He wished that the thought of seeing them again didn’t make him feel so vulnerable. 

“Lan Zhan, you won’t leave me with them to fend for myself, right? You’ll stay with me?”

“I will.”

“Fine, we can go,” he ignored the fact that Lan Wangji had already confirmed with his shijie , trying to exert some imaginary level of control over the situation, “but you know, it’ll be easier to motivate me if I have something to look forward to afterwards.”

Lan Wangji looked thoughtful for a moment, considering the idea. “What did you have in mind?”

Wei Wuxian flicked his eyes down to the man’s lips, knowing his eyes were following the movement. “Lan er-gege , I trust you to come up with something good.” He leaned in, and-

“Wei-laoshi ,” Sizhui’s gentle voice sliced through his thoughts, “It’s 3 o’clock.”

Wei Wuxian snapped his attention back to the present and tried to focus. It was a good thing he had such a thick face. The kids did not need to know what kind of thoughts were running through his mind, although Jin Ling seemed to have some idea if the scowl covering his face meant anything.

Aside from Jin Ling’s nearly perpetual frown, he was surrounded by the smiling and expectant faces of his students. He could hear Wen Ning in the other room, softly encouraging his troupe of rockstars-in-training. He was still working on his degree, but said that the introductory level classes were a welcome break from his student teaching responsibilities. 

It was hard to believe how much his life had changed in only a few months. He had a steady job doing something that he loved. He had an incredible and perfect boyfriend, and he was mending his relationship with his adopted family. If only his lost and lonely self from all those years ago could see him now.

“Wei-laoshi , are you ready to get started?”

Yeah, he was definitely ready.