(nothing special) (something special) (слэш)

So they orbit around each other, and their nightly rambles become longer, as they speak of things that Jiang Cheng, at least, has never spoken of to anyone else, but they stay almost.
Until the night their path bends towards Lan Xichen’s room instead of the guest quarters, and Lan Xichen asks, a hitch barely audible in his voice, “Take tea with me?”
The tea is a pretext. Jiang Cheng’s sure of it. Well, almost sure.
“We’ve just had tea in the hall.”
“Isn’t there always room for more?”
The tea is definitely a pretext.
--
Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen both have jagged edges. But perhaps their broken pieces can fit together into something new.