or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage *** He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes. That impression does not last.

It happens a few more times, always with just the thinnest veneer of bro-y joking, until Xiao Zhan figures this is just a thing they do sometimes. Casual sexting among friends must just be something Yibo needs, and Xiao Zhan is selfishly glad he gets to provide it for him. He doesn't think about who else Yibo might have figured out as well as he's figured out Xiao Zhan, who else might get to do this with Yibo.

Yizhou moves to Beijing. Ji Li helps him adjust.

His was a boutique-y set-up, the sixth branch of Cultivation, a fairly successful local corporation, tucked away in between the hills of their city. Song Lan owns a plant shop and takes care of all things living. A reincarnation AU.

Two things happen simultaneously when their hands touch: first, the migraine that Xiao Zhan's been fighting all day dissipates so immediately that a loud gasp slips out of his mouth. Second, a torrential outpouring of warmth shoots up Xiao Zhan's arm so quickly that he almost loses his balance and falls off the bench. The next moment, Xiao Zhan drops Yibo's hand. He tries to convert the abrupt movement into something more graceful, but he doesn't think he succeeds. Yibo's eyes have gone wide. His neck bobs as he swallows. What the hell, Xiao Zhan thinks faintly, astonishment thick in his throat. He just manages to keep himself from passing out as the migraine lances through his head again with a vengeance.

He’s inhaling his banmian in the small area where a few tables have been arranged for the crew when he remembers that he heard his phone ding earlier. He drags it out of his bag and thumbs his WeChat open, then promptly chokes on his noodles. Wang Yizhou sends Ji Li a shirtless, ambiguously horny selfie. Ji Li retaliates.

“He’s so beautiful,” Lan Zhan says, tongue loosened by the weed. Besides, Mianmian’s room is his safe space. He can say what he likes here, so he does. “I want to know what his mouth tastes like. I want him to put his mouth on my—” “No, no, no, no,” Jin Zixuan says, making an X with his arms. “For the love of Christ, keep it PG-13, please.” — In which Lan Zhan gets high, slides into Wei Ying's DMs, and somehow ends up having the harmonica played to him at 2am in the morning.