YOU KNOW WHAT IT’S WEDNESDAY have a snippet from lxc fic:
Mingjue smiles down at A’Zhan, warm and genuine, a little rakish. A’Zhan glowers harder, and then shoves his face into the side of Lan Xichen’s waist, hand squeezing tight.
“He shy?” Mingjue asks.
“A’Zhan doesn’t really like new people,” Lan Xichen says in explanation, even though that’s not entirely the truth. A’Zhan is simply like this and always has been. Lan Xichen scoops him up into his arms, though he’s really quite big these days.
“Huh.” Mingjue shrugs again. “He didn’t have a problem challenging me earlier. Can’t blame him, though. Especially not now.” Lan Xichen tenses. Mingjue regards him steadily. “How is he doing with all this?” he asks after a moment, nodding at little A’Zhan in his arms.
Lan Xichen squeezes his brother tight. A’Zhan squeezes back, his arms going snug around Lan Xichen’s neck. Lan Xichen thinks of him, cold and unconscious in the snow, thinks of him kneeling before their father’s doors, thinks of his naive hope and unwavering belief that all of this is only temporary.
“A’Zhan is—he’s—” Lan Xichen buries his face in A’Zhan’s hair. “A’Zhan, didi, do you think you could tell Mingjue-xiong how you’re doing?” he asks, voice muffled. “He is asking after your wellbeing.”
A’Zhan turns just enough to speak to Mingjue out of the corner of his mouth. “I am fine, thank you,” he says, and then turns away again. That is all.
Mingjue blows out a breath. “Fine, huh?” He sounds dubious, which is fair. They start to walk again, Minjue shortening his steps so that Lan Xichen can keep up while still holding his brother. He hikes him up a little higher on his hip. “Then, how are you doing, Xichen?”
“I…” Lan Xichen doesn’t know how to answer such a question. His mother is dead. He is ten. That is how he is doing.