The Untamed: WangXian one shot

Let me explain...

Lan WangJi walked away from YanLi and Wei WuXian without a word.
Wei WuXian turned to his sister. "Shijie, what did he tell you about the Yiling Supervisory Office?"
YanLi shook her head. "Nothing," she said softly. "I was worried for you, so I came to talk to him. He was only concerned for you."

Wei WuXian ran out after Lan WangJi, calling out to him.
Lan WangJi stopped, turned with Bichen drawn.
Wei WuXian parried with ChenQing, once, twice. Then he stopped when Bichen swished through the air, right at him.
Wei WuXian closed his eyes in surrender. The tip of Bichen's blade was a hair’s breadth away from his skin, the cold glare of the sword reverberating around him. His intent was clear. If I am to die by your hands, so be it.
He opened his eyes a moment later, finding that Bichen did not advance. Lan Zhan was staring at him, a hundred different emotions in his eyes, churning, boiling. Accusations, pain, betrayal, hurt, confusion. And this terrible, unyielding love. Lan Zhan, Lan WangJi, HanGuang Jun who was never winded in the face of death, never lost control, was breathing harshly, heart pounding as the two of them stood there in the moonlit courtyard, separated by the drawn sword. With a harsh gasp he sheathed Bichen, aimed another look at Wei WuXian. And he walked away. Wei WuXian stood there staring at his retreating back, his own heart racing. He stood there a long while after, and then slowly walked back to his own quarters.

Jiang Cheng came to fetch him for dinner later, only to find him brooding on the daybed, leaning against the bed post and twirling ChenQing in his hand.
“Get your ass off the bed. Everyone is expecting you to be there.” He said gruffly, frowning as was wont of him. His eyes however, belied his curt tone. He was worried.
Wei WuXian looked up, and for once in their lives he got up without a word. The smile he gave Jiang Cheng was one of those new ones he gave ever since he came back. There was no warmth, no mirth, and the smile never reached his eyes. Resigned – that was the word Jiang Cheng was looking for. Resigned, and tired.
“Why do I have to come fetch you like you are a child? You are older than me.” He spoke again when he received no response from his brother. This wasn’t their usual way. They poked, prodded, tossed half-baked insults and barbs at each other just for the heck of it. That was their routine. Not this.
“Let’s go get Shijie.” Wei WuXian said quietly as he put a hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and nudged him out the door.

Jiang Cheng knew he was upset, but he wasn’t sure what to do with him at the moment. Since he was being agreeable, he decided to go along with the flow for now.
The dinner was mostly – uneventful, for lack of a better word. Even when Wei WuXian absent-mindedly accepted the toast in his honor and walked out minutes later, there wasn’t an uproar. Just the usual taunts from the other cultivators. Jiang Cheng sighed and walked out himself to go look for his idiot brother. Lan WangJi was noticeably absent from the dinner, and if one listened carefully, the strains of a Guqin melody could be heard in the distance, softly blending in with the evening breeze. Jiang Cheng sighed again. There was only one place Wei WuXian would be found, if he followed logic and the sound of that music.

He found Wei WuXian outside the West Wing, staring in the direction of Lan WangJi’s room, a jar of wine dangling from one hand, ChenQing twirling around the nimble fingers of his other hand.
He looked even more depressed than he was before dinner, and gave a flippant response to Jiang Cheng’s query about his sword. But even that didn’t have any energy. And of course it was over Lan WangJi. Ever since that unhappy separation at that Supervisory Station, the two dodged each other when they could, or studiously avoided the other, like Lan WangJi was doing right now. Jiang Cheng couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Wei WuXian couldn’t stay away, or why they couldn’t just talk it out, whatever it was. It was clear neither of them had a grasp of the concept of a clean break, judging by the looks they gave each other. Before the fight, after the fight, in the hallways when they inevitably ran into each other, in conferences. Wei WuXian shrugged off his concerns, gave him a pat on his shoulder like he was the one comforting Jiang Cheng – and walked away, drinking from his jar of wine.