Sit Softly On Your Shoulder

Chapter 25: Returning Home

Lan Zhan skims the entrance of Heathrow Terminal 2, and then grabs their suitcases while Wei Ying handles their carry-ons. They could have managed with only one suitcase between them, since they're only visiting family for a week, but then he wondered if Wei Ying might like to pick up any souvenirs for friends and family here.

This is the first time he's flying out of the country, after all.

That had been an illuminating conversation, when Lan Zhan had asked Wei Ying if he had a passport. It was on one of those rare mornings that they could wake up together, since Wen Ning had switched his shifts around, it left Wei Ying free to spend more nights with Lan Zhan, and they were both grateful for the change.

When Wei Ying had asked Wen Ning if he minded switching his job hours, because it was obviously done with him in mind, Wen Ning had laughed goodnaturedly. "It was just a matter of time before you left us," he'd said, patting Wei Ying's shoulder warmly. "Everyone has their own paths to follow, so please don't think too much about it."

Well, Wei Ying could not deny that, but it went some way to absolving some of his secondary guilt of not being there for A-Yuan.

A-Yuan hadn't taken it well, the news of both of his geges leaving him. Even if it was only for a week, his beautiful silver eyes had widened before filling with tears that wouldn't stop, and he didn't make a sound. He just stared back at them with such a look of betrayal that Wei Ying felt like the worst scum on the earth. Lan Zhan promised him they would video chat, but with the time difference, and A-Yuan's bedtime, it won't work.

Wen Popo had rolled up her sleeves and threatened Lan Zhan if his uncle dared to say anything upsetting to her precious A-Ying. Lan Zhan was already in agreement with her, promising her that his punishment would come from his own hands first. Wen Qing had asked only one question to Wei Ying: "Are you sure?" When he had nodded, she hugged him and wished him good luck, and then when Lan Zhan wasn't looking, she'd offered to lend him her substantial collection of acupuncture needles. Wei Ying had been slightly horrified and quickly declined, and Uncle Four had pushed a vintage wine bottle into his hands.

"They don't drink," Wei Ying had told him apologetically, to which he'd snickered, "I know. That's for you BECAUSE of them." Wei Ying had spluttered out a laugh and packed the wine anyway, with the philosophy that it was better to have it and not need it, than to want it and not have it at all.

There was a lot Lan Zhan pretended not to see, these days.

But the passport question had produced an outraged snicker.

"What kind of village idiot do you think I am?" He'd cried out in a splutter.

"Not an idiot," Lan Zhan had admonished him sternly.

"Okay, okay," he'd agreed, blushing because Lan Zhan knew (thanks to Wei Ying's reactions) that he could smoulder, and quite successfully, too. "We all had to get passports because in high school, they used to take us to either France or Germany, depending on which language we were learning, to study it further in its origins. The first thing any of us did when we got off the ferry was ask the people, "Parlez vous anglais?" They were not impressed," Wei Ying giggled.

But he had never flown anywhere, and Lan Zhan was happy about that, because he was about to blow Wei Ying's mind.

Wei Ying is looking around himself in barely disguised awe, as Lan Zhan guides him to their own checking in line. As expected, there's no one in front of them.

"First class?" Wei Ying gasps. "Lan Zhan, that's bloody expensive, are you sure? We can go in economy."

Lan Zhan's fade betrays his thoughts on that; he'd done it twice in his life so far: the first time was when he didn't know any better and vowed to make enough money never to have to repeat the experience, EVER, and the second time was that disastrous hurry to return to Wei Ying a few months back.