Jealousy

Wei WuXian stirs up some jealousy in Lan WangJi, just for fun.

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The sun was setting over the Lotus Pier, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Wei WuXian was lounging on the deck, chatting animatedly with a group of visiting cultivators. Lan WangJi stood a short distance away, his golden eyes fixed on the scene with a calm expression that only Wei WuXian could tell hid a storm.

Wei WuXian threw his head back, laughing at something one of the cultivators said. The sound was bright, full of life, and Lan WangJi felt a strange pang in his chest. It wasn’t the laughter—it was the way one of the young men leaned just a little too close to Wei WuXian, his gaze lingering a little too long.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei WuXian called out suddenly, noticing the way Lan WangJi’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Why are you standing over there like a statue? Come join us!”

Lan WangJi walked over, his movements graceful and composed, but there was a tension in his jaw that Wei WuXian didn’t miss. He hid his smirk and turned back to the group. “You see, Lan Zhan here is the most perfect man I’ve ever met. But he’s also the strictest. He probably thinks we’re being too loud right now.”

“I do not,” Lan WangJi said firmly, but his gaze flicked briefly to the man sitting closest to Wei WuXian, who seemed a bit too interested in his every word.

One of the cultivators, clearly emboldened, leaned closer to Wei WuXian. “You must be quite the handful then. I can’t imagine anyone keeping you in check.”

Wei WuXian laughed, leaning slightly into the man’s space. “Oh, you have no idea! Poor Lan Zhan has his work cut out for him.”

Lan WangJi stepped forward, his presence suddenly commanding. “Wei Ying.” His tone was soft, but there was an edge to it that made everyone fall silent.

Wei WuXian turned, feigning innocence. “Yes, Lan Zhan?”

“We should go.”

“But I’m having fun,” Wei WuXian replied, though there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “What’s the rush?”

Lan WangJi held his gaze, his eyes darkening slightly. “It is getting late.”

The cultivators exchanged glances, sensing the tension, and quickly made their excuses to leave. Wei WuXian stood, brushing imaginary dust off his robes. “Lan Zhan, you scared them off! Now who am I going to talk to?”

Lan WangJi’s hand gently but firmly gripped Wei WuXian’s wrist. “Me.”

Wei WuXian blinked up at him, pretending to be surprised, but inside he was thrilled. “You? But you don’t even talk that much.”

Lan WangJi leaned in just enough for his words to be heard only by Wei WuXian. “I do not need to talk to make my point.”

Wei WuXian’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly covered it with a laugh. “Alright, alright, no need to get all possessive, Lan Zhan. Let’s go.”

As they walked away, Lan WangJi’s grip on Wei WuXian’s wrist didn’t loosen. If anything, it became firmer, as if to remind Wei WuXian—and anyone else who dared look—that he was the only one allowed to stand by Wei Ying’s side.

Wei WuXian glanced up at him, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “You know, Lan Zhan, jealousy looks kind of good on you.”

Lan WangJi didn’t reply, but the slight tightening of his lips and the subtle red tint on his ears told Wei WuXian everything he needed to know.

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