Bunny Whiskers

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Author's Note: A surprise for my sneezing bunny. Get well soon.

When Wei Wuxian pried his eyes open to find it wasn't even mao shi, his husband still sleeping soundly next to him, face serene and calm in the embrace of a dream after spending a blissful evening together, he just knew.

It was no great mystery as to why he was awake at such ungodly hours even for him. How could he possibly sleep with the annoying itch he felt in his lungs or the cold he could feel embedding itself in his bones despite it being in the early stages of Autumn? His bones, as old as his past life and as new as his resurrection, groaned in protest when he shifted to glance out the window and instantly regretted doing so. The morning sun, bright in all its glory, stung his eyes like thorns constantly pricking at them and he hissed. Wei Ying clung to Lan Wangji's side and buried his face deep into his shoulder and hair to ward off any and all forms of light. Perhaps if he slept a bit more he would feel better when he woke up? It was highly unlikely, because although it was rare - living on the streets, putting up with Madam Yu's scorn and surviving off of basically nothing in the Burial Mounds gave him a ridiculously strong immune system against such things - this time it was practically written on the wall for everyone to see: Wei Wuxian was coming down with a cold. And he just knew...

It was going to be a damn awful day.

He was right.

" -ing."

" -Ying."

"Wei Ying."

Said Demonic Cultivator buried his head under the covers, muffling his mumbled response. "Five m're min'tes, L'n Zhan."

"It is lunch time."

Whaaaaaaaat? That was late, even for Wei Wuxian. But he just felt so tired. Still, he didn't want to worry his husband - he had enough on his plate being Chief Cultivator and going about his clan duties, and there was no way in the three realms that Wei Ying was going to add to that - but there was one problem... Wuxian couldn't move. His bones hurt. Hurt in the same way they had when hands of resentful energy had clawed him from the sky and shattered his body beyond repare sixteen years ago.

A few thousand swords were stabbing into his skull, the pain almost a living, breathing thing throbbing behind his eyes. He felt stuffy, like his head was wrapped in cotton (and he was not referring to the blankets he had chosen to hide under). What had begun as a mere itch in his lungs that morning had in the meantime evolved to a nasty, irritating scraping every single time he inhaled, air coming out as strange little whistles when he breathed out. There had to be something wrong with his throat too since it hurt to swallow and his stupid tongue felt like a swollen dead weight in his mouth.

Still. He could manage. All of these symptoms could be covered up, ignored or suppressed with sheer force of will. There was no need to bother Lan Zhan or make him worry unnecessarily. He wasn't sure how he'd get himself moving yet but if there was one thing Wei Wuxian was good at then it was attempting the impossible, and he'd surely succeed once again, if he just -

"Achoo!"

How could his body betray him like this?! Now the Second Jade would know for sure that something was amiss.

Sure enough, the covers were drawn away and the face of a very concerned Lan Wangji came into view. It was not a grand display; no, never. But it was seen in the little things: the subtle parting of his lips, the twinkle in his slightly widened eyes, the gentle touch as he brushed the hair away from Wei Ying's forehead. Things you would only notice if you could read him well enough and were privy to his endearment. He might be a fuddy-duddy, but oh was Wei Wuxian proud to be able to call Lan Zhan his fuddy-duddy.

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