[ song lan appears to be having trouble adjusting to life here. that's the thought that's been on xue yang's mind the last few days, idly, in between all the usual thoughts of how to keep entertained, ways to bully a-qing so she didn't get too comfortable around here, how to make xiao xingchen laugh, what to have for dinner. it's not a surprise that song lan is struggling, with how rigid he is, unyielding and inflexible. he bends for xiao xingchen alone, and even then with great difficulty and reluctance.

that's fine.

if he won't bend, he'll just have to break. like a poorly healed bone, it'll be better for him in the long run.

he just needs a push. down a steep, metaphorical hill. and if that doesn't work, xue yang will give serious consideration to a literal one.

for now, he starts with reminding song lan how things are different now, how xiao xingchen is different now. 'you did this,' xue yang's eyes speak as they glitter in the night, reflecting the crackling flames of their campfire, 'you lost him, left him to this, left him with no one to turn to but me, nothing to hold close but this.'

he drops himself into xiao xingchen's lap, sprawling against him like a spoiled cat, nuzzling into the hands that come to rest against him to flaunt the automatic response to song lan's gaze, to show the man exactly how close and comfortable they've grown in this time. he trails a hand up xiao xingchen's inner thigh. lightly, casually. surely an accident, xiao xingchen, you know how careless xue yang can be with his hands.

and then, pointedly, he licks his lips before speaking in a casual tone, completely mismatched to the mischief in his gaze. ]

Yeah, Song-daozhang. Come sit with us. You'll get cold that far from the fire. You don't want to make Xiao Xingchen worry, do you...?