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Chapter Text

“Wait!”

It feels like Wei Ying’s mind is moving four times slower than his body. Everything is happening too fast around him. Doesn’t Lan Zhan hate him?!

Maybe not?

Lan Zhan doesn’t slow down at all, dragging his teeth down the side of Wei Ying’s neck. He flicks his tongue across Wei Ying’s fluttering pulse, then bites. Hard. 

Maybe he hates him after all.

But he laps at the abused spot almost apologetically. Meanwhile he shoves a hand under the black t-shirt Wei Ying is wearing (which says, in red letters, “LET’S GET SPOOOOKY!!!”), calloused musician’s fingers scraping goosebumped skin and making Wei Ying shiver with want. He’s almost forgiven Lan Zhan for biting him when those fingers turn suddenly cruel, pinching his nipple and twisting. Wei Ying sucks in a sharp breath through grit teeth, but it makes him grind down harder against the knee shoved between his thighs.

“Seriously… Lan Zhan! I need…a minute…to…”

He needs time to think about what’s happening and what it will mean for them going forward. For starters, Wei Ying has never had sex with a man before. He never even thought he would want to. 

As Lan Zhan kisses his way back up to Wei Ying’s lips, Wei Ying is struck with the realization that he really, really wants this. So much that he might actually cry if Lan Zhan changes his mind. Man, woman, or whatever the fuck otherwise, Lan Zhan is so fucking hot, and Wei Ying can’t believe that it’s taken him this long realize that he desperately needs to fuck him. 

The din from the party carrying on outside Wei Ying’s bedroom is white noise as Lan Zhan hooks both index fingers in Wei Ying’s belt loops and yanks him toward the unmade bed, which. Yes. A good idea. A wonderful idea.

“Clothes. Off.” 

It’s the first words Lan Zhan has spoken since he told Wei Ying to “Shut up” and Wei Ying replied, with an arrogant grin and one hand resting on the wall by Lan Zhan’s head, effectively caging him in,   “Make me.”

They had been on the outskirts of Wei Ying’s birthday/Halloween party, and Wei Ying couldn’t help but tease Lan Zhan about how grumpy he looked, how it was probably past his bedtime, how he’d never pick up chicks if he kept scowling at everyone who came within five feet of him. That he had shown up at all had been a shock to everyone, least of all Wei Ying.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying’s voice is muffled by his shirt as it’s pulled over his head and off. Lan Zhan is kissing him again by the time it hits the floor. When they part for air, he tries again, “Lan Zhan, I have a — mmph! — a question.”

“Mn.” 

It’s a miracle that he gets any response at all, dedicated as Lan Zhan is to marking every inch of Wei Ying’s neck and chest with bruises in the shape of his mouth. Wei Ying gasps from a particularly harsh nip at his collar bone, then blurts, “Why are you here?”

Lan Zhan freezes, pulling away, and Wei Ying feels like he has fucked up by reminding him of who it is he’s undressing. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” Wei Ying nearly shouts. “Please don’t go! I just… I’m surprised you came, is all. You don’t usually go to parties, and I was curious what made you change your mind tonight. It’s okay if you don’t wanna answer.”

“You invited me,” Lan Zhan says after a moment of silence.

“I’ve invited you to other parties,” Wei Ying points out. He’s not sure why he’s worried about why Lan Zhan is here, but it seems…odd.

Lan Zhan’s right shoulder raises in the tiniest shrug possible. “It is your birthday.”

Warmth spreads through Wei Ying’s chest, going straight to his head faster than any cheap booze. “You really cared that it was my birthday?”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying is not one to pass up an opportunity to tease, so he says, “But you didn’t bring a gift?”

“I did not know it was required.” The inner corners of Lan Zhan’s eyebrows rise minutely. “It was a last-minute decision. I should have—”

“It’s fine,” Wei Ying laughs. “No one was supposed to bring presents. Besides…” He grabs two fistfuls of Lan Zhan’s soft, probably cashmere, sweater and pulls him close. “I can’t think of anything I want more than to see you naked.”

Lan Zhan hums and takes off the sweater and the white t-shirt beneath it. And holy shit. Wei Ying is sure there must be some kind of law against a person being this sexy. Lan Zhan’s muscles flex as he shoves his pants and underwear down in one motion. He leans down to rip the socks from his feet, and then he is…here. And totally, beautifully. Naked.

“Fuck,” Wei Ying breathes. There’s total bedlam somewhere in the back of his mind, because until about ten minutes ago, Wei Ying was certain that he was straight. He pays it no mind, hurrying to strip off his own lower garments so that he can have sex with the most gorgeous man he’s ever been blessed to see. “How should we do this?”

Lan Zhan considers this carefully. Coming to a decision, he shifts around Wei Ying and lays down. He beckons Wei Ying, who, unfamiliar with the mechanics, clumsily swings a leg over Lan Zhan’s hips. His thighs are stretched in a way that is unfamiliar but not uncomfortable. Their hard cocks rub together, and Wei Ying leans into the feeling, foreign as it may be. He’s not sure how far Lan Zhan wants to go tonight, but there are condoms and lube in his bedside drawer that he can reach if needed. Lan Zhan’s hands grip Wei Ying’s waist so hard that it might bruise, something that’s very, very different from being with a woman. 

He likes it. 

Hands splayed across Lan Zhan’s chest, Wei Ying leans down to kiss him. Lan Zhan tangles his hands in Wei Ying’s hair, reciprocating with enthusiasm as they grind against one another. After a few minutes of this, Lan Zhan pulls away just enough to say, “Turn around.”

Confused, Wei Ying doesn’t think he heard him correctly until Lan Zhan repeats himself, more firmly, “Turn around.”

He complies slowly, facing away from Lan Zhan while still straddling him. Lan Zhan’s hands settle on his hips, tugging them backwards so that Wei Ying nearly loses his balance. 

“Scoot back,” Lan Zhan orders. 

Wei Ying now has an idea of what he wants…but he didn’t know that two men could…could…

He crawls backwards until his knees are above Lan Zhan shoulders, and Lan Zhan guides him to bend at the hip until he’s on all fours, bringing him eye-to-eye with Lan Zhan’s cock. Which…yeah. Okay. Wei Ying must be even more into this than he thought—he wraps a hand around it and feels his stomach do a little somersault when it pulses in his grip. Emboldened by this reaction, he reaches out with his tongue and licks a tentative stripe up the length that doesn’t fit in his hand.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s breath ghosts across Wei Ying’s dick, sending a small frisson down his spine. Then, with no forewarning whatsoever, his cock is engulfed in wet, suckling heat.

“Shit,” Wei Ying hisses. Lan Zhan’s mouth is a million times better than anything Wei Ying has ever experienced. His fingers dig into the meat of Wei Ying’s ass, pulling him downward, and Wei Ying wonders vaguely if he can breathe before his own curious hunger spurs him onward to wrap his lips around Lan Zhan’s cock. It’s too big and he’s too inexperienced to swallow more than a few inches, but Lan Zhan seems satisfied enough with his admittedly amateur performance. He moans around Wei Ying and keeps pulling him downward, taking it all the way down his tight throat.

Wei Ying tries to keep calm, but he feels the curling heat in his gut that portends an orgasm. Fuck, and it’s been barely a minute. He wants more time to experiment, to find the things that make Lan Zhan come unraveled at the seams, and he isn’t sure he’ll have the strength to continue after he comes. 

Lan Zhan pushes Wei Ying’s hips upward, disengaging his mouth. Sighing inwardly in relief, Wei Ying wills his body to calm down, with limited success. It punches a surprised gasp out of him when he feels Lan Zhan’s tongue snake between his ass cheeks, circling his rim.

“Wha—Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying has to brace himself on Lan Zhan’s knees to keep from falling over. “Wha–what are you doing?”

Lan Zhan just hums and continues lapping at Wei Ying’s hole like it’s a delicacy he’ll never taste again. Realizing he won’t get a response, Wei Ying redoubles his cock sucking efforts, swallowing as much of the shaft as he can manage. He seems to be doing at least something right because Lan Zhan moans again, the vibrations reverberating through Wei Ying’s opening and encouraging him to keep doing what he’s doing, bobbing his head and sucking and stroking with his hand the few inches that he can’t take into his throat.

One of Lan Zhan’s hands, which have been keeping Wei Ying spread open, slides inward, the middle finger hooking in Wei Ying’s entrance and opening him wider for Lan Zhan’s probing tongue. It burns slightly, but the pain only serves to sharpen and enhance the pleasure. Lan Zhan drags his lips down to mouth at Wei Ying’s taint. Then, he sucks one ball into his mouth at a time. Finally, without preamble, he takes Wei Ying’s cock to the root again as his finger slides further inside him.

Wei Ying’s vision blacks out as he comes down Lan Zhan’s throat. Lan Zhan just hums and works to swallow every drop, coaxing the release from Wei Ying’s dick with the tightening of his throat. Tears are streaming from Wei Ying’s eyes as he chokes on Lan Zhan’s cock, which is still barely halfway in. Removing his mouth, Lan Zhan kisses the tingling tip (which is unexpectedly sweet), and fists a hand around the base of his own dick, jerking himself off while Wei Ying struggles to remain tethered to the earth. Then, there’s a warm, sticky spray coating Wei Ying’s mouth, making him choke and sputter for air. He lets go of Lan Zhan’s cock, which paints his face with his release. It’s unexpectedly hot, and Wei Ying has the passing thought that he will likely replay this moment again and again when he masturbates in the future. 

He manages to hold himself up until Lan Zhan is finished, and then his arms give out completely. Lan Zhan is nevertheless able to maneuver his way out from under Wei Ying’s limp body, and he rotates so that they’re both lying with their heads at the foot of the bed. With herculean effort, Wei Ying wipes his face with the back of his arm, but it does little more than smear the drool and come further across his cheek. Lan Zhan stares at him for a moment before getting up suddenly, redressing. 

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying’s heart sinks. Is he really that disgusting?

Pulling on his t-shirt, Lan Zhan leans over Wei Ying and says, “I will return.”

He leaves without putting on his sweater, which Wei Ying finds odd, but to his surprise, Lan Zhan does indeed come back a few minutes later. Wei Ying sits up to accept the glass of ice water Lan Zhan holds out to him, drinking it all in one go. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. When he places the empty cup on the nightstand, Lan Zhan reaches out abruptly, gently seizing his chin and turning his head. He wipes Wei Ying’s face with a warm, wet washcloth.

Wei Ying gapes at him as he folds the soiled cloth and tosses it into the hamper next to the bed. Since when is Lan Zhan…tender? Caring? In his wildest fantasies, Wei Ying never could have imagined that Lan Zhan is the type of guy who would provide such sweet aftercare. They’re seated side by side on the bed, subtly surrounded by the thumping bass and web of voices drifting down the hall, and Wei Ying realizes that he has no idea what’s supposed to happen next. 

“This…was good. Right?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Lan Zhan turns to look at him. “Mn. Yes.” After a few seconds, he adds, “Very good.”

“Then…” Wei Ying turns, bringing one knee up onto the bed so he can face Lan Zhan fully. “What would you say if I wanted to do it again sometime?”

Lan Zhan’s earlobes are turning pink, and it’s one of the cutest things Wei Ying has ever seen. “We could, if you want to.”

A wide, relieved grin splits Wei Ying’s face. “Ah, yes! Definitely! We should absolutely do it again sometime.” 

A sudden burst of loud laughter from the living room makes them both startle slightly. 

“Maybe…when there’s less people around,” Wei Ying adds. 

“Mn. Very well.”

Very, very slowly, Lan Zhan leans over and places a soft kiss on Wei Ying’s mouth that promises…something. Wei Ying still isn’t sure what the future holds for them, but he has a feeling that it’s something good. It is this hope that keeps him from feeling unbearably disappointed when Lan Zhan leans down to pick up his sweater, shrugs into it, and leaves.

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan’s hand trembles slightly as he guides his cock into position. Taking a deep, calming breath, he tries his best to steady his nerves. It’s not the first time he’s done this, but…

It is for Wei Ying.

Face flushed, Wei Ying had been, for once in his life, unable to joke away his nervousness a few minutes ago when he admitted, half-muttering, “Never…done this. Not with a man.”

The feeling of Wei Ying’s body squeezing his fingers will haunt Lan Zhan until his dying breath, tight and warm and soft, and Lan Zhan needs to get a fucking grip on his self-control right now. He won’t last ten seconds at this rate, not with the knowledge that he’s the first man who has ever been inside Wei Ying. Eyes trained on Wei Ying’s face, Lan Zhan can’t help but lean down to kiss the furrow between his brows as the head of his cock is pushed in. He forces his hips to still, pushing the bangs away from Wei Ying’s eyes. 

“Is it alright?”

“Mm…ungh…just….” Wei Ying’s fingers, perched on Lan Zhan’s shoulders, dig into his skin. He wriggles his hips, back arching as he sucks in a rattling, shallow breath. “Give me a minute.”

“Of course.” Lan Zhan kisses him again, this time on the bridge of his nose. “Wei Ying… Breathe.”

Letting his jaw fall open, Wei Ying inhales deeply. His grip on Lan Zhan’s cock relaxes enough that Lan Zhan could push further inside, but he waits patiently, using this as an opportunity to calm his own racing heart. Even through the condom, Wei Ying feels incredible. 

“Okay, okay,” Wei Ying says after a while. He cracks open one eye and gives Lan Zhan a shaky smile. “C’mon. I can take it all now.”

Lan Zhan doubts that he can take all of it, but he knows better than to argue with Wei Ying when Wei Ying has made up his mind about something. He pushes forward a couple of inches, peppering soothing kisses to the soft skin below Wei Ying’s jaw. Wei Ying drapes his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck, wrists crossed at the top of his spine, holding him closer. Drawing his hips back slightly, Lan Zhan presses in a bit farther, and Wei Ying hisses, clamping down on him tightly. Too tightly. 

“Relax,” Lan Zhan murmurs, lips brushing against Wei Ying’s pulse. Beads of sweat have begun to trickle from beneath Wei Ying’s hair; Lan Zhan captures a droplet on the tip of his tongue and closes his eyes, hips rolling again, growing impatient. “Wei Ying.”

“Y-yeah? Yeah. I’m relaxed,” Wei Ying lies. He buries his face in the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck, a telling dampness moistening Lan Zhan’s skin. “You can, uh, probably just shove it in, right? It’ll get—”

“No.” Lan Zhan will not hurt him. He can’t. “What can I do to make it better?”

“I… I don’t know.” 

Humming, Lan pushes himself up onto his knees. Wei Ying releases him with an unhappy, questioning noise that turns into a gasp when Lan Zhan’s hand wraps around his dick, which has wilted due to him being overwhelmed. Lan Zhan squeezes and strokes patiently, gently coaxing until he’s hard again. The pressure around Lan Zhan’s cock eases and he slides farther inside, which elicits a gasp from Wei Ying.

“L-Lan Zhan…” His throat bobs as he swallows, and Lan Zhan braces his weight on his elbows so that he can kiss him again. When he pulls away, Wei Ying’s eyes travel down Lan Zhan’s body, and he swallows again. “Fuck…how are you so…”

Something flutters in Lan Zhan’s chest, even without Wei Ying finishing the thought. He tangles his left hand in Wei Ying’s unbound hair and pulls him in for another kiss, breathing in the contented sigh that Wei Ying releases. When they’re this close, it’s easy for Lan Zhan to pretend.

He reminds himself, again, to be grateful for what he is given. There’s no promise of next time, no matter how desperately Lan Zhan wishes to spend the rest of his life kneeling between Wei Ying’s smooth thighs. Perhaps it is unfair to let Wei Ying believe this is nothing more than lighthearted, no-strings-attached fun between a pair consenting adults who are (sort of) friends when Lan Zhan has spent half a lifetime dying to be where he is now.

And it still isn’t enough. 

Wei Ying’s legs curl tentatively around Lan Zhan’s, not exactly pulling him closer, but keeping him in place. Lan Zhan can feel the instant it begins to feel good for him—because that’s when Wei Ying’s mouth begins to run.

“Fuck! Too…fucking… big. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan—is it all the way in yet?”

“Almost.” He presses a reassuring kiss to Wei Ying’s temple.

“You should have warned me,” Wei Ying whines. “If I’d known you were this fucking huge, I’d—”

“You had it in your mouth last weekend,” Lan Zhan reminds him.

“Yeah, but I also had two jars of Emperor’s Smile in me, so my judgement maybe wasn’t the best.” His hips roll upward, despite all his complaining. Lan Zhan takes the final plunge, snapping his hips forward until they are pressed against Wei Ying’s ass. It makes Wei Ying cry out. “Ah, fuck!” 

“Do we need to stop?”

Wei Ying opens his eyes to glare at him. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Alright.” Lan Zhan can’t keep from smiling as Wei Ying rotates his hips, experimenting with the angle until it hits a spot that makes him choke around a moan. 

“I—oh, shit—ungghh…” Wei Ying’s hands curl into fists against Lan Zhan’s shoulder blades. “Oh my god. Lan Zhan…will you—will you fuck me now?”

“Mn.” 

How could Lan Zhan refuse?

Rocking in and out, he keeps his thrusts shallow. If he gets the opportunity to do this again, he hopes to one day bury himself so deeply they both see stars, but for now, Wei Ying needs time to get acclimated. He’s loud, egging Lan Zhan on with his body as much as his words, and his hands claw at any place on Lan Zhan’s body they can reach, all while they kiss with tongues and teeth. 

“Mean!” Wei Ying complains loudly after Lan Zhan aims a particularly harsh nip at his lower lip. 

Lan Zhan apologizes by kissing him sweetly, searchingly, and he slows his thrusts into something more serene, simply savoring the clenching heat around him. Hands coming up to cup Lan Zhan’s face, Wei Ying’s cock digs into Lan Zhan’s belly, twitching and leaking, smearing his skin with a gossamer trail of precome. Lan Zhan curses under his breath as he realizes he won’t last much longer. Adjusting his weight onto his left arm, he brings a hand between their bodies, slowly stroking Wei Ying in time with his thrusts. 

“Ah, ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying pants. “You have to—I’m gonna—”

Scraping his teeth along Wei Ying’s neck, Lan Zhan murmurs against his skin, “Come for me, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying’s body shakes with tension as he spills into Lan Zhan’s grasp. Unbidden, Lan Zhan’s heart clenches as he wonders if he’ll ever have another chance to hear the noises Wei Ying makes as he comes. He buries himself as deeply as the position will allow, letting the cresting wave of white-hot pleasure pull him under, hiding his face in Wei Ying’s shoulder to conceal the uninvited tears welling up in his eyes. When the pounding pulse in his ears falls away, he allows himself to breathe in one last breath of Wei Ying’s scent: spice and sweat and the faint aroma of sex. Then, he shifts onto his knees once again and, gripping the base of the condom, pulls out.

Wei Ying is a mess of loose limbs, tendrils of hair sprawled out in every direction, and he makes a soft noise of complaint as Lan Zhan rolls off of him. It soothes the anxious part of Lan Zhan, if only slightly. He ties off and tosses the used condom in the waste basket beside his nightstand with quick, methodical motions, shifting back onto his side and gathering Wei Ying in his arms. 

“Lan-er-gege,” Wei Ying says with a sighing, sleepy lilt. “That was…”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan wants to pry for more, but he lets Wei Ying off the hook for now.

After a while, Wei Ying laughs. “Is it always like that?” 

Lan Zhan frowns. “Like what?”

“You know…just. Amazing. If I’d known sex with men was this good, I’d have tried it ages ago.”

Seething jealousy curdles in Lan Zhan’s gut, but he squashes it down. Wei Ying has every right to sleep with men besides Lan Zhan.

Hope sprouts through the snarling vines of his fears when Wei Ying asks with a grin, “So, on a scale of Terrible to Would-Do-Again…how do I rank?”

“Would do again,” Lan Zhan replies without hesitation.

Wei Ying’s smile could brighten the deepest, darkest trenches. “Really? Ah, well. I hope you know that you’ve opened the floodgates! Never introduce a greedy man to the pleasures of gay sex unless you’re prepared to accept full responsibility and fuck him again and again.”

Lan Zhan exhales a laugh through his nose. “I take full responsibility, and I will fuck Wei Ying again if he asks.”

“Good.” Yanking up the duvet, Wei Ying burrows into Lan Zhan’s chest. “By the way, I’m staying the night.”

He can stay forever, as far as Lan Zhan is concerned.

Chapter Text

“So I just…” Wei Ying scoots back a few more centimeters, one hand holding Lan Zhan’s dick steady as he figures out how to get into position. A small (but loud) part of him worries that Lan Zhan is going to get tired of waiting—and maybe then decide that breaking in an inexperienced Wei Ying isn’t worth the effort. 

Shaking his head, Wei Ying dispels the thought. In this position, it will be difficult for Lan Zhan to leave, and hopefully, once he can figure out how to actually get Lan Zhan’s slick, condom-covered cock inside himself, Wei Ying will make up for his lack of expertise with enthusiasm.

Hopefully.

The tip finally presses against the right spot, and Wei Ying reminds himself to breathe through the still unfamiliar feeling of being stretched. The hand not wrapped around Lan Zhan’s length comes to rest on Lan Zhan’s knee, stabilizing. Inch by inch, Wei Ying lowers his body, his breaths coming too fast as beads of sweat form at his temples. Just a little bit more.

It’s pointless to look down—he can’t see what he’s doing, not in this position, so he lifts his head to look straight ahead. There’s a full-length mirror on the wall directly in front of him, and Wei Ying almost jumps when he catches a glimpse of his reflection. He looks…

His thighs are spread wide around Lan Zhan’s, his cock standing hard and proud, reaching for the sky. The slip in focus makes Wei Ying literally slip, and he hisses as he lands squarely in Lan Zhan’s lap. He sucks in a sharp breath, the discomfort intensifying for a moment before gradually easing into that gratifying fullness he’s come to love after only a few encounters.

He can’t see Lan Zhan in the mirror, which is…ugh. It’s the biggest complaint Wei Ying has with this position so far, he thinks as he moves his hips in a wide, experimental circle. Behind him, Lan Zhan lets out a little half-moan that brings a grin to Wei Ying’s face. “You like that?” he asks, a little too eager to please.

“Mn.” One of Lan Zhan’s big hands comes up to caress Wei Ying’s side, and Wei Ying has recently had A Revelation about big hands. Lan Zhan is sitting up, reclining slightly, his weight now balanced on one hand behind him while his legs are stretched out in front of him. 

The hand on Wei Ying’s side drifts toward his back and then lower, lower, until it finds the curve of his ass. Wei Ying is beginning to have a suspicion that Lan Zhan really, really enjoys his butt, which isn’t all that surprising. But it is…nice. He’s always felt self-conscious about having a much rounder ass than any man needs. 

At least he’s found a good use for it.

The thought makes Wei Ying laugh. Lan Zhan must take it the wrong way, because his grip tightens, yanking Wei Ying down onto his cock. The laugh turns into a strangled yelp as the angle suddenly shifts, grazing Wei Ying’s insides in just the right way. He lets his weight fall again, putting pressure on that spot, and fuuuuck. 

Yes.

That’s good.  

Lan Zhan’s hand falls away again, but the ghost of his fingertips linger on Wei Ying’s skin. He lets his own hands, which have been folded primly in his lap, stroke along his thighs as he picks up the pace, bouncing on Lan Zhan’s cock selfishly, stealing every drop of pleasure he can snatch up. 

“Lan Zhan,” he moans. “Fuck, Lan Zhan. You have to tell me…does it feel good?”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan gasps, thrusting his hips upward.

“Good,” Wei Ying coos. “You’re amazing, Lan Zhan, Lan-er-gege. Tell me what you want me to do for you.”

“Touch…touch yourself.” Lan Zhan’s voice sounds breathless but commanding nevertheless. It sends a shiver racing down Wei Ying’s back as he wraps a hand around his cock, smearing precome along the shaft.

Realizing Lan Zhan can’t see what he’s doing, he narrates, “I’m, ah, I’m doing it. Fuck, Lan Zhan. I’m so hard. It’s leaking. I—I don’t think I’ll last much longer.”

His hips keep working up and down, up and down, his muscles clenching in an effort to bring Lan Zhan to the brink alongside him. Pleasure simmers deep in his belly, rising to a boil as he begins to stroke himself. He can barely keep himself upright as the orgasm hits, but Cangse Sanren didn’t birth a quitter. So, Wei Ying keeps bouncing until he feels Lan Zhan’s control snap—he sits upright and grabs onto Wei Ying’s hips, groaning and fucking up into him savagely until he’s spent.

Wei Ying collapses against Lan Zhan’s chest, trusting Lan Zhan to catch his limp body. Arms winding around Wei Ying’s waist, Lan Zhan lies them both down, turning so that they are on their sides. His softening cock slips out of Wei Ying in the process, which draws a mumbled complaint from Wei Ying, who is feeling sleepy and tingly all over. Pushing aside Wei Ying’s hair, Lan Zhan presses a sweet kiss to the back of Wei Ying’s neck. Then, he pulls out his arm trapped beneath Wei Ying’s torso and rolls away.

“Nngh,” Wei Ying whines. “Where are you going?”

“We have to clean up,” replies Lan Zhan, always the reasonable adult between the two of them. If it were up to Wei Ying, they would simply wrap around each other like vines and sleep for twelve hours, but Lan Zhan is much too responsible to laze about when they are a spent, sticky mess. 

Lan Zhan returns to the bed with a damp washcloth, and he wordlessly wipes the come and lube from Wei Ying’s front and back, respectively. Once that’s taken care of, he switches off the lamp and crawls back into bed, sliding in behind Wei Ying. He’s so warm, and his bed is as comfy as a cloud. Wei Ying would sleep here every night if he could—perhaps it is the bed, perhaps it is the sex, but Wei Ying’s sleep quality drastically improves with Lan Zhan by his side. Once again wrapping his arm around Wei Ying’s middle, Lan Zhan’s hand settles above Wei Ying’s heart. It beats a steady marching tempo beneath his fingers as they both come down from their highs. 

They haven’t really had a discussion about what they’re doing or what the future holds for them, but Wei Ying selfishly hopes that Lan Zhan will want to continue fucking him for a long, long time. It seems, at least to Wei Ying, that they have more compatibility (at least sexually) than Wei Ying experienced with any of his previous girlfriends, which is a bit scary to think about. Maybe Wei Ying is gay?

No. The label doesn’t feel quite right. He still likes women as much as he did before, only now there is the added bonus of realizing that men are pretty hot, too. But when he thinks of having sex with other people…his mind inevitably circles back to Lan Zhan.

As if hearing his thoughts, Lan Zhan nuzzles his face against Wei Ying’s neck, his hold on his waist tightening. Wei Ying is starting to realize that Lan Zhan is just…so good. Not in bed—well, he’s phenomenal in bed—but just as a person. He could easily kick Wei Ying out of his house once they’re finished fucking, but he always lets Wei Ying stay the night, always letting him sleep in the morning after and even making him breakfast, despite Wei Ying pleading with him to not make a fuss over him. Lan Zhan never speaks while they eat, but he doesn’t seem to mind listening to Wei Ying ramble about anything and everything that crosses his mind. Sometimes, he’ll even bring up something Wei Ying mentioned in passing days earlier, when he was sure Lan Zhan wasn’t really listening.

They’re friends now, right? They must surely be friends at this point. But there’s something different about this friendship that Wei Ying can’t quite pinpoint. It’s like the more he learns about Lan Zhan, the more he wants to know. He wants to know his history, his likes and dislikes, his opinion on literally everything. He thinks about him when they aren’t together and feels a bit too sad when they say their goodbyes. He would blame it on the sex, but he never felt this… obsessed with any of his girlfriends. It never made him this depressed to part with them, and he never spent so much of his free time brainstorming ways to make them laugh or wondering what they would think of this or that. 

Behind him, Lan Zhan’s breathing has become deep and even. He’s lightly snoring, and his arm around Wei Ying’s waist curls, unconsciously pulling him closer. Wei Ying’s stomach does a funny little flutter and he feels a strong urge to roll over so that he can see Lan Zhan’s sleep-serene face, but he forces himself to stay still so that he doesn’t wake him. With the slow, calming metronome of Lan’s Zhan’s breaths, Wei Ying drifts off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying holds onto Lan Zhan’s kitchen counter, using it for leverage to make the stool he’s sitting on turn back and forth quickly. It’s nearly ten o’clock, meaning that Lan Zhan has been up for roughly five hours, at times poking his head back into the bedroom to watch Wei Ying sleep like a starfish. Wei Ying has stayed over just enough times that Lan Zhan is able to perfectly time his preparation of breakfast and coffee, and sure enough, Wei Ying had wandered into the kitchen two seconds before the coffee maker beeped.

Now, Wei Ying is, as has become tradition, treating the barstools in Lan Zhan’s kitchen like a carnival ride. At one point, he nearly knocks himself off, but Lan Zhan grabs him by the elbow in time to prevent disaster. 

“Lan-er-gege.” Wei Ying looks up at Lan Zhan through his eyelashes, playing coy as if Lan Zhan isn’t already head-over-heels for him. “You saved my life. Won’t you tell me how I can ever repay you?”

With an amused huff, Lan Zhan slides off of his barstool. Grabbing Wei Ying’s thigh, he spins him around so fast that the spoon slips from his hand, clattering onto the floor. Lan Zhan is fastidiously tidy, but he pays no mind to the splattered congee on the tile. Nor does he pay attention to the indignant little “hey!” that comes out of Wei Ying as he’s forcefully swiveled. Placing a hand under Wei Ying’s chin, Lan Zhan tilts his face up so that he can kiss him. Wei Ying’s mouth is fiery hot from the unfathomable amount of chili flakes and oil he takes in his congee, but Lan Zhan fights past his watering eyes for that underlying sweetness that’s just…Wei Ying.

Despite his protests, Wei Ying kisses back with zeal, wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck and sighing against his lips. His mind seems to wander in the same direction as Lan Zhan’s, because he eventually reaches a hand down to stroke the erection straining Lan Zhan’s pajama pants. They’ve already exchanged blowjobs this morning (plus the two rounds they went last night), but Lan Zhan’s body can never stay calm with such a beautiful man taking up space in his home.

Lan Zhan wrenches himself away from Wei Ying’s lips, which earns a bout of complaining that morphs into confusion when Lan Zhan turns and strides out of the kitchen. “Lan Zhan! Is it really so bad to—”

“I will be back,” Lan Zhan says over his shoulder before rounding the corner.

He returns with lube and a condom, and Wei Ying’s eyes go wide. “Here?”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying’s face breaks out in a wide, slow grin, and he begins stripping out of the t-shirt and athletic shorts he borrowed from Lan Zhan. It’s a tradition that has been honored since the first time Wei Ying stayed over, even as the routine has evolved into Wei Ying bringing an overnight bag along to his visits. He seems to enjoy wearing Lan Zhan’s lounge clothes as much as Lan Zhan enjoys seeing him in them, because no matter how much Wei Ying packs, he never remembers to bring pajamas. The shirt he is — or was — wearing is white with clouds across the chest surrounding the words “CLOUD RECESSES.” He shimmies out of the baby blue shorts without standing, and then he’s there. Naked in Lan Zhan’s kitchen.

It still seems too good to be true.

Finding Lan Zhan frozen, Wei Ying tugs at his shirt to pull him closer. He then yanks the shirt over his head and pushes his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Then, he wraps his hand around Lan Zhan’s dick and gives it a few slow, lazy pumps.

“Lan-er-gege, what’s this? We haven’t even finished our breakfast!”

Lan Zhan couldn’t care less about breakfast, and Wei Ying obviously couldn’t either. He pushes his half-empty bowl out of the way so that he can lean back on his elbows. “I didn’t know I was on the menu.”

Not humoring him with a response, Lan Zhan drops to his knees, guiding Wei Ying’s feet to rest on his shoulders. He maintains eye contact as he leans in and flattens his tongue over Wei Ying’s hole, which finally wipes the smirk from Wei Ying’s face. After a few more unhurried licks, Lan Zhan uncaps the lube and spreads some of it over his fingers, then begins to slowly work him open. When Wei Ying is relaxed and pliant, Lan Zhan stands, catching his legs in the crooks of his elbows, rolls on the condom, and pushes into him, savoring the drag of tight, hot walls gripping his cock. It’s taken some time, but Wei Ying has become accustomed to being penetrated—and he’s taken to it like a fish to water, keeping pace with Lan Zhan and even demanding more, which Lan Zhan is always more than happy to give. He drapes his arms over Lan Zhan’s shoulders, lifting himself so that he can pepper Lan Zhan’s mouth with kisses between sentences.

“Ah, fuck, Lan Zhan.” Kiss. “You’re a beast, fucking me this early in the morning.” Kiss. “You think you can just—fuck, right there—do what you please to this poor, helpless man?” Kiss.

Lan Zhan thrusts harder, and the words streaming from Wei Ying become less and less coherent. He holds onto Lan Zhan tighter with a grip that will hopefully leave bruises, nails biting into Lan Zhan’s shoulders with a delicious sting. His head rolls back, exposing the smooth column of his throat, and Lan Zhan, never one to pass up such an opportunity, takes this chance to trail kisses along the tendon that runs along the side of his neck.

“Oh my god, Lan Zhaaan,” Wei Ying whines. “Fuck. Feels… fuck! Shit, shit, shit, give me a minute to—”

He yelps as Lan Zhan bites down on the junction of neck and shoulder. Sucking it for good measure, Lan Zhan laves over the area with his tongue once he’s sure Wei Ying will be sporting a bruise.

“Lan Zhan, you brute! What gives you the right— Ah! Fuck, do that again, please.” 

Concentrating all his effort into pounding one particular spot, Lan Zhan watches the changes in Wei Ying’s face with rapt fascination. He’s clearly getting close, alternating between squeezing Lan Zhan tightly and losing his grip. His hair is perfectly, artfully mussed, cheeks flushed red, mouth hanging open around a stream of muddled profanities—and Lan Zhan loves him, so, so dearly. He loves him so much that he can barely breathe under its crushing weight. He has loved him since the moment they met, and he’ll love him forever after, and if the only thing Wei Ying ever wants from him is his body, then it is his for the taking.

This is enough.

Wei Ying’s eyes crack open slowly, meeting Lan Zhan’s adoring gaze head on. Whatever he sees gives him pause, and to stop him from asking any questions, Lan Zhan wraps a hand around Wei Ying’s cock, stroking with long, slow strokes until Wei Ying’s back arches and he comes with a keening whine. Lan Zhan follows shortly after, closing his eyes against the now familiar (but still overwhelming) surge of emotions that always wells up within him when they’re like this. He grits his teeth and focuses on keeping his legs from buckling.

When his eyes open again, Wei Ying is watching him with a soft expression that Lan Zhan desperately wants to interpret as a mirror of his own feelings. But he knows that this is not true. Wei Ying is friendly to a fault, and he’s probably still high on adrenaline and endorphins, and—

This is enough.

“Hey, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying’s voice pulls Lan Zhan out of his downward spiral. His smile is more restrained than usual, almost shy. “We’ve been doing this a while now… Does this mean you don’t hate me any more?”

The question is so ridiculous that it takes Lan Zhan a long time to respond. He blinks a few times, not knowing where to start unraveling such nonsense. “Wei Ying… I never hated you.”

“But…” Wei Ying’s brow pinches. “You always…”

He doesn’t finish the thought. This feels like the moment when Lan Zhan should clarify his feelings, but his tongue refuses to cooperate to say, Wei Ying, how could I hate you? You’re everything to me, and I love you so much I can barely stand it.

So, he says nothing and waits while Wei Ying’s expression shifts from confusion to disbelief to something like relief. Wei Ying shifts his hips minutely, then makes a face, reminding Lan Zhan of their current state. Holding the base of the condom in place, he reluctantly withdraws and leaves to fetch a towel for cleanup. When he returns, Wei Ying is reclining with his elbows on the counter. He cracks a few jokes while allowing Lan Zhan to wipe him down, and Lan Zhan could listen to the sound of his voice all day, every day, for the rest of his life. It’s Saturday morning, and if Lan Zhan asks, there’s a chance he can convince Wei Ying to come over again tonight. They usually meet up on either Friday or Saturday or, every once in a while, on a weeknight that their schedules allow it. Lan Zhan is hesitant to monopolize too much of Wei Ying’s time, afraid that he will cling too tightly and scare Wei Ying away. If Wei Ying knew how Lan Zhan really feels—how he wants to be with him literally every minute of the day, how he thinks of him constantly when they’re apart—would he still be willing to share himself with Lan Zhan once or twice a week?

Lan Zhan reminds himself that this should be enough. It’s much more Wei Ying than he ever thought he would get, and he should be grateful, not moping and wishing for something more.

But still, he waits for an opening in Wei Ying’s rambling tale about how he helped an ungrateful turtle cross the road while he was on his run yesterday morning (“She had the audacity to try to bite me, Lan Zhan!”). When Wei Ying pauses to take a breath, the words just…don’t come out. It should be simple. Wei Ying, can you come over again tonight, or would you like to hang out and do something other than have sex? But Lan Zhan lets Wei Ying launch into his next story without interruption.

Lan Zhan leaves to dispose of the wet rag, and Wei Ying doesn’t stop talking. His voice follows Lan Zhan to the laundry room, and when Lan Zhan comes back, having grabbed a clean spoon from the kitchen along the way, Wei Ying’s speech slows a tiny bit, coming between bites of congee that has surely gone cold. They’re both still naked, but Lan Zhan slides back onto the stool next to Wei Ying and ignores his own breakfast in favor of watching Wei Ying’s animated gesticulations as he tells Lan Zhan about an article he read online that claimed aliens were responsible for building the Eiffel tower. 

Every time he pauses to take a bite, Lan Zhan tries, and fails, to find the courage to ask him about tonight. 

After Wei Ying wraps up a tangent about how spicy chips are always a letdown because “they’re never hot enough!” and he stops to take a drink of his (also undoubtedly cold) coffee, Lan Zhan summons every bit of bravery he can muster and says, “Wei Ying, spend the weekend with me.”

Wei Ying goes still. Lan Zhan winces, afraid he’s made a terrible mistake. He hadn’t meant to ask for an entire weekend.

Then, Wei Ying turns and flashes Lan Zhan one of the brightest smiles he has ever seen. “Ahhh, yes! Lan Zhan, we should…” 

He goes through a long list of things they should do together: 

“I saw you’re working on a puzzle! I bet we can finish it in an hour if we work together!”

“Is it true that dogs aren’t allowed at that park down the street? We could go for a walk!”

“There’s this movie I think you’ll like! It has…”

“There’s a petting zoo not far from here that I take Jin Ling to sometimes! It has a donkey that always gives me stink-eye, and one time…”

Yes. Lan Zhan wants to do every single thing on the list. He wants to share every experience on the planet with Wei Ying, and this seems like a good place to start.

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan’s cock hits a particularly deep, toe-curling spot, making Wei Ying’s legs lose their grip. They fall from where they had been wrapped around Lan Zhan’s waist, and he can barely keep his cooked-pasta arms around Lan Zhan’s broad shoulders. His mouth runs a mile a minute, far faster than his brain can keep up.

“Oh my…god! Lan Zhan, fuck! Your cock…it’s so fucking good…” A sudden thought occurs to him, and he laughs breathlessly. “I think I'm ad-DICK-ted!”

Narrowing his eyes, Lan Zhan sits up on his knees and takes hold of Wei Ying’s wrists. 

Oh. Wei Ying likes where this is going.

But instead of pinning his limbs to the mattress and then fucking him through it, Lan Zhan pulls out. 

“Hey!” Wei Ying reaches for him, but Lan Zhan withdraws to just out of his grasp. “Lan Zhan! It was funny! And—” He gestures toward his poor, neglected dick with both hands. “You can’t just leave a job half-finished!”

Shaking his head, Lan Zhan moves to get out the bed, only for his arm to be clung to by Wei Ying. He scrambles onto his knees, yanking on Lan Zhan until he lies back down, and crawls on top of him. “Ha! Got you!”

“You got me,” Lan Zhan says drily. 

Wei Ying wraps a hand around Lan Zhan’s cock and adjusts his body to get into position. It takes only two tries because, as Wei Ying has privately bragged to Huaisang, it turns out that he is fucking stellar when it comes to bottoming. It slides back inside in a slow, easy glide, and Wei Ying grins down at Lan Zhan, smug and triumphant. 

“Lan-er-gege,” he coos. “You know, I have a theory…”

He waits and is eventually rewarded with an “Mn.”

Dragging his index finger down the length of Lan Zhan’s sternum, Wei Ying circles his hips leisurely, savoring the way it makes Lan Zhan’s breath hitch, if only slightly. 

“I think…that you were never actually gonna leave.”

Lan Zhan says nothing, but Wei Ying feels like he could melt from the warmth in his eyes. He has a way, sometimes, of looking at Wei Ying like he’s…fond, almost.

But if Wei Ying is being honest with himself, he knows that this is simply the way Lan Zhan is. At first glance, he seems like a beautiful ice sculpture—pretty to admire from afar, but too cold to touch. Once you get to know him, however, you discover that there’s this whole underlying heat simmering beneath Lan Zhan’s frosty exterior—and it’s worth every ounce of effort it takes to come close enough to feel its warmth.

Is Lan Zhan like this with everyone who finds their way into his bed?

Wei Ying freezes, and it suddenly feels like he can hardly breathe. How weird. 

He catches Lan Zhan watching him with a questioning look and pastes a smirk over his sudden urge to scowl. When Lan Zhan’s worry doesn’t fade, Wei Ying arches his back and slowly smooths his hands along his thighs. Lan Zhan’s eyes darken as they track the movement, and his fingers dig into Wei Ying’s waist cruelly.

Pouting, Wei Ying runs a hand across his chest, tossing his hair behind his shoulder. “You’re so mean to me, er-gege. You’re like a…” His grin widens. “…DICK-tator!”

Rolling his eyes (yes!!! actually rolling them!!!), Lan Zhan tightens his grip on Wei Ying’s middle, yanking him down while his own hips thrust sharply upwards. Wei Ying yelps in surprise, nearly toppling off of his perch, but he manages to catch himself before a nasty collision of their heads can spoil the mood.

“Haaa…” His voice trembles, but his shoulders still shake around his laughter. “I guess I deserved that! But you have to admit it's a good pu— Ouch! Lan Zhan! Don't be so rough!”

There is little Wei Ying can do besides hold on tight, trying not to lose his balance while Lan Zhan drives into him. Bracing both hands on Lan’s chest, Wei Ying’s folded legs quiver as Lan Zhan’s cock repeatedly grazes his prostate. “Lan Zhan! Be gentle, please. Have mercy!”

Lan Zhan continues on as if he didn’t hear Wei Ying’s pleas (which is exactly how Wei Ying likes it, not that he will ever admit it out loud). Looking down at him, Wei Ying is filled with the bubbly feeling of wanting to laugh again, because only Lan Zhan could look so serious while being an absolute menace. And gods, is he beautiful. He puts professional models to shame without even trying—although Wei Ying now knows, from staying over so often, that there is a bit of science behind Lan Zhan’s flawless appearance. He uses more skin care products than Wei Ying previously believed existed, and his perfect, shiny hair owes much to shampoo and conditioner that, combined, cost more than Wei Ying’s phone plan, numerous oils, serums, and a leave-in conditioner.

“Oh, shit. Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan. Ugh, you’re so fucking pretty. Did you know that?” Wei Ying continues to babble: “You’re so hot, and your dick is fucking amazing. How… unghh… How are you still single?”

They both stop moving as soon as the words leave Wei Ying’s lips. Why did he say that? Unless Lan Zhan is lying about his lack of free time most weekday evenings, it’s unlikely that he is having sex with anyone besides Wei Ying. Is Wei Ying being selfish, week after week commandeering Lan Zhan’s entire weekend, preventing him from meeting anyone else?

Lan Zhan blinks at Wei Ying a few times before grabbing him by the arms and pulling him forward. Cradling the back of his skull with one big hand, he kisses Wei Ying slowly, deeply, as if to shove down any other stupid words liable to spill from him. Wei Ying can’t stop his hips from twitching, and he moans as Lan Zhan’s cock brushes against his sweet spot again. He begins to move with purpose, bouncing on it like his knees aren’t well over thirty years old, chasing all the little grunts and moans he coaxes out of Lan Zhan. Feeling extra adventurous, he breaks away from Lan Zhan’s lips to sit up, pulling his legs up so that his feet are braced against the mattress. 

“Be careful,” Lan Zhan says with alarm when Wei Ying almost falls backwards, overbalancing.

Wei Ying catches himself with his hands on Lan Zhan’s thighs, and he uses this angle to continue moving up, down, up, down. Lan Zhan’s fingers dig into Wei Ying’s thighs, adding to the forest of purple marks he left with his mouth and hands last night. When the pressure of his pleasure building becomes too much, Wei Ying wraps a hand around his cock, jerking himself off frantically while trying to remain upright—but Lan Zhan has to catch him before the force of his orgasm knocks him over.

After this, Wei Ying is once again holding on for dear life as Lan Zhan mercilessly ruts into him. He comes with a long, shuddering groan, and as they’re catching their breath, Wei Ying pokes one of Lan Zhan’s bright red earlobes with his finger. Feeling mischievous, he smiles and says, “Lan Zhaaaan, I think I know your secret.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes fly open, brimming with panic. He swallows, throat bobbing as he searches Wei Ying’s face.

Laughing, Wei Ying kisses the tip of Lan Zhan’s nose before reaching between the mattress and headboard and pulling out a plush bunny whose legs and cute little cotton ball tail had been sticking out in the open. “You like bunnies! Have you been hiding this every time I come over?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes flit between Wei Ying’s face and the stuffed animal being dangled by the ears in front of his face. He says nothing, neither confessing or denying. 

“Oh!” Wei Yings sits up, clutching the rabbit to his chest. “Your salt and pepper shakers are bunnies, and then there’s that soap dispenser in your bathroom! Lan Zhan, why are you blushing?! It’s so cute!” 

Lan Zhan snatches the toy from Wei Ying, glaring at him. Clutching his stomach, Wei Ying rolls off of him, onto his back, and he makes a mental note to buy Lan Zhan every single bunny-themed gift he finds from this point forward. Maybe he can get out his supplies and paint something for him. Something that matches the decor. His eyes scan the room, imagination running wild with possibilities.

But then again…he’s being a bit presumptuous. Who’s to say whether Lan Zhan would even like an art piece made by Wei Ying?

This line of thought stirs up the guilt that had settled like sediment on Wei Ying’s conscience. 

“Lan Zhan…I have to tell you something.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Lan Zhan drops the condom into the wastebasket. He turns around slowly, back straight as he waits with a slightly furrowed brow. Again, Wei Ying feels paralyzed by how stunning he looks like this, tousled hair cascading over his shoulders, which seem more relaxed than usual despite his, as usual, perfect posture.

Wei Ying takes a deep, steadying breath. “I’ve been staying over more often the last few weeks—which has been great! I don’t know how to explain it, but when I’m here, I…” 

He stops himself from finishing. I feel like I’m home. 

Swallowing, he continues, “Some people have…noticed that I’ve been busier than usual, and you know how people talk. Jiang Cheng threatened to break my legs—”

Lan Zhan’s eyes harden, and Wei Ying hurries to add, “—which he totally won’t do! But…I felt guilty keeping secrets from him, so…I told him where I’ve been. And he told our jiejie. So…they both know about…us.”

Finding it hard to hold eye contact, he stares down at his hands fidgeting with the sheets. “And…they’re not the only ones who know. I'm not sure how, but Huaisang found out.”

“His brother probably told him,” Lan Zhan suggests.

Wei Ying’s eyes fly wide open, and he gapes at Lan Zhan. “But how would Nie Mingjue know?”

The tiniest grimace crosses Lan Zhan’s face. “Because my brother told him.”

That makes a lot of sense, Wei Ying supposes, seeing as Lan Huan is married to Nie Mingjue. But that doesn’t explain—

“You told your brother?”

“Should I have not?” Lan Zhan asks, frowning.

Wei Ying laughs. “Well, if he’s anything like my siblings, it was bound to happen.”

“Then…you are not…angry?” 

“Why would I be angry?” Wei Ying is just relieved that he’s not the only one who’s bad at spinning falsehoods. “Does it upset you that people know?”

“No,” Lan Zhan quickly replies. 

Wei Ying heaves a sigh of relief. “Good. And plus, it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong. We’re both consenting adults, and it’s none of their business if we want to have some good ol’ no-strings-attached fun.”

Lan Zhan tenses, leaving Wei Ying with the feeling that he has somehow found a way to misspeak. Before he can ask what’s wrong, Lan Zhan is reaching for the wet wipes in the bedside drawer. As they clean up, Wei Ying moves onto lighter topics, sharing work anecdotes and stories of the stray cat in Wei Ying’s neighborhood that he has been slowly befriending. One of the nice things about being in Lan Zhan’s company is that he doesn’t seem to mind when Wei Ying rambles on about things that don’t matter. He encourages him here and there, showing that he’s listening, and lets Wei Ying prattle on about anything and everything that crosses his mind.

It’s only the early afternoon, but once the wipes have been disposed of, they crawl under the covers and Wei Ying burrows into the space by Lan Zhan’s side, attaching himself to Lan Zhan like a cuddly parasite. Lan Zhan’s bed is sooo comfy that he never wants to leave, but he feels it would be remiss not to ask, “Lan Zhan…should I go? I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Lan Zhan’s arms around Wei Ying tighten. “Stay.”

And so, Wei Ying does.

Chapter Text

“Ouch! Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying pulls away to level Lan Zhan with a pout. “You’re being too rough.”

Knowing exactly what he really wants, Lan Zhan strengthens his grip, kneading the globes of Wei Ying’s ass with more force. The firm, supple muscle fills Lan Zhan’s hands just right. A perfect fit. Everything about Wei Ying is just so…sublime.

As expected, Wei Ying squeals in delight and kisses Lan Zhan once more. His lips are stretched wide in a grin, quietly laughing at his own private joke, and almost all of his body weight rests on Lan Zhan—a fact that pleases Lan Zhan as much as the sweet, spicy taste of Wei Ying’s tongue sliding into his mouth. Every place their skin touches fuels Lan Zhan’s longing to be closer…and… closer. 

This time when Wei Ying pulls away, Lan Zhan gives chase, nipping at his lower lip, which eggs Wei Ying on further. He pretends to be upset, lamenting, “Lan-er-gege, my poor butt is always covered in bruises because of you.”

Lan Zhan squeezes again.

“Oh?” Wei Ying’s smile is saccharine and a bit too knowing. “Maybe that’s how you like it.”

He revolves his hips in a wide circle, and Lan Zhan stifles a moan.

“Am I right, er-gege? You like it to be round…and juicy…and… covered in your fingerprints?”

Instinct urges Lan Zhan to deliver a harsh smack, but this was not well-received the last time he tried it. So, he contents himself with grabbing and groping with one hand while burying the other in Wei Ying’s hair. Wei Ying keeps working his hips, slow and tantalizing. It isn’t nearly enough to make either of them come, but the anticipation of what’s in store keeps Lan Zhan right on the edge of his sanity. He could easily flip Wei Ying over and have his way with him (which would be exactly what Wei Ying wants), but he doesn’t want to lose the closeness they have like this.

The weather is beginning to warm up, and the sound of buzzing insects finds its way inside, alongside the occasional sound of a car driving by. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks—and Wei Ying immediately bolts upright, terror written over every inch of his face.

Lan Zhan holds him in place before he can scramble away. He frowns, replaying the last few seconds and trying to figure out what happened. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” Wei Ying laughs, but it’s short and jittery. “I just…nothing.”

He lies down over Lan Zhan again, wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. The tension melts from his body slowly, but all seems well eventually.

Until the dog barks again.

Wei Ying gasps and tries to get away, but their limbs are too entwined for a quick escape. Lan Zhan lets go and attempts to sit up, but Wei Ying’s hand is on his hair. He winces as his head is yanked back down, and Wei Ying immediately begins apologizing.

“Shit. Lan Zhan, are you okay? Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Wei Ying.”

“—hurt you. Are you alright? I’m—”

“Wei Ying.” 

Falling silent, Wei Ying slides off of Lan Zhan and does his best to appear calm while stealing glances in the direction of the window. Lan Zhan sits up as well.

“Wei Ying, are you…frightened of dogs?”

“What? No!” Wei Ying tries to play it off with a smile, but another round of barking erases it immediately. He shakes like a leaf while still attempting to seem nonchalant. “Okay…maybe a little bit.”

Lan Zhan wraps an arm around Wei Ying, guiding him to rest his head on his shoulder. He’s never sure what to say in moments like this. I’ll protect you seems presumptuous, and you’ll be fine seems dismissive. So, he says nothing.

The dog goes quiet, and, after a moment, Wei Ying relaxes a bit. He turns toward Lan Zhan and, bringing his hands up to cup his face, kisses him. He’s still trembling slightly, but he steers Lan Zhan into lying on his back again, straddling him. Lan Zhan is still hard, and Wei Ying maneuvers his cock back into his body, his eyes drifting closed as he slowly sinks onto it.

He tries to find his rhythm again, but his movements are stiff and awkward. Burying his face in the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck, his frustration is evident in the heavy sigh he lets out, and Lan Zhan can feel that his erection has mostly subsided.

“Wei Ying.”

“Sorry. Just give me a—”

“Stop.”

Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Wei Ying looks as though he might cry. He tries to smile, but it’s mostly a grimace. “I’ll be okay, honest. It’s just that I—”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan slides a lock of hair behind Wei Ying’s ear. “We can stop.”

“But—”

“I do not want to do anything if you aren’t enjoying yourself fully.”

Lan Zhan sits up long enough to dispose of the condom, then lies on his side, gathering Wei Ying up in his arms. With a shuddering sigh, Wei Ying’s body curls inward, his face hidden in Lan Zhan’s chest, and Lan Zhan buries his nose in Wei Ying’s hair, breathing in the comforting scent of his shampoo. He strokes a hand along the knobs of Wei Ying’s spine.

After a while, Wei Ying turns his face and inhales deeply. “So…the thing with dogs.”

Allowing himself a tiny indulgence, Lan Zhan presses his lips to Wei Ying’s temple. “You do not have to explain yourself.”

“No, no. I don’t mind. It’s just…” He slides a leg between Lan Zhan’s and holds on tighter to his shoulder. “I don’t like to think about it.”

Lan Zhan waits patiently, curious but trying not to pry. He continues to rub Wei Ying’s back in a way that he hopes is at least mildly comforting. 

Wei Ying sits up suddenly, and it takes everything in Lan Zhan’s power to let him go. Rotating his upper body toward Lan Zhan, Wei Ying points to a large, jagged scar on his shoulder that Lan Zhan has always wondered about. “I’ve probably never told you this, but I was…on the streets for a few weeks—or maybe months?—when I was a kid. After my parents died.”

Hands balling into fists, Lan Zhan tries to smother the horrified expression his face wants to make. It is apparently unsuccessful, because Wei Ying smiles softly as he pries Lan Zhan’s locked fingers apart one by one. “It’s okay. I mean, not okay, but I survived. Jiang-shushu eventually found me, and that’s how I wound up living with the Jiangs. Anyway…”

His smile fades. “Yeah, so… I kinda had to scrounge for food. And sometimes—” He grimaces. “—stray dogs would be there, too, with the same idea.”

Inclining his head toward his scarred shoulder, he continues, “That’s how I got this.” He brings up his leg and points to a set of intersecting scars on his inner thigh, which Lan Zhan has also noticed previously. “And this. And a few others. I know it’s silly, but I’ve just never been able to get over it. I see, or hear, a dog, and I just… Sorry to ruin things.”

“You did not ruin anything.” Lan Zhan sits up and turns so that they are facing one another. With deliberate slowness, he lowers his head, pressing his lips to the scar on Wei Ying’s shoulder. 

Wei Ying’s breath catches as Lan Zhan reaches up to hold his face with both hands, kissing him softly…gently…a promise to never let something so terrible happen to Wei Ying ever again. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Wei Ying kisses him back. He relaxes, allowing Lan Zhan to coax him into lying back down, and Lan Zhan hovers over him, brushing his lips across every scar he finds, from the tiny mark on his chin down to the long, thick line of white on the right side of his abdomen. He hopes that, someday, Wei Ying will trust him enough to open up about the rest of his scars. 

Lan Zhan works his way back up to Wei Ying’s mouth, and Wei Ying drapes his arms loosely around Lan Zhan’s neck. When at last Lan Zhan pulls away, Wei Ying watches him with an unreadable gaze, obviously deep in thought about…something. Lan Zhan won’t pry this time, so he simply deposits one final kiss on Wei Ying’s lips before rolling back onto his side. Running a hand along Wei Ying’s ribs, he asks, “What would you like to do?”

Wei Ying turns over as well, facing Lan Zhan. “Could we just maybe…watch tv?” 

“Mn.” 

The television in Lan Zhan’s bedroom is rarely used, and he is relieved to find that it is still operable. He hands the remote to Wei Ying, since he is better at navigating through the apps, and besides, Wei Ying is prone to being a backseat driver—not that Lan Zhan minds when Wei Ying gets overly excited and wants him to rush through the options without reading. Wei Ying scrolls through a long list of titles, pausing every once in a while to tell Lan Zhan what good (or bad) things he has heard about the series he comes across. Once he has settled on a comedy that is, quote, “so fucking stupid and clever at the same time,” Wei Ying wriggles into a comfy position with his head pillowed on Lan Zhan’s chest.

“Are you okay?” Wei Ying asks suddenly, midway through the opening credits.

“Hm?” 

Looking up at his face, Wei Ying blinks innocently. “Your heart. It’s beating so fast. Are you feeling alright?”

Blood rushes to Lan Zhan’s ears as he mumbles, “I am fine. We should watch the movie.”

Wei Ying gives him one last skeptical look before turning his attention back to the screen. The film is full of visual gags and puns that make Wei Ying shake with laughter, and although it’s not Lan Zhan’s type of humor, he can’t help but smile at the sound of Wei Ying cackling at jokes that really aren’t that funny. Plus, the movement makes Wei Ying cling to Lan Zhan the tiniest bit harder every time, which is a sweet little bonus.

The movie ends, and Wei Ying props himself up on his elbow, grinning down at Lan Zhan. “Hey, Lan Zhan.”

“Mn?”

“It’s not a true movie night without snacks.” He sticks his lower lip out in a pretend pout. “But I bet Lan-er-gongzi would never let me bring food into his bed.”

“I will get snacks,” Lan Zhan says with a smile. “What would you like?”

“Hmm…” Wei Ying taps his chin thoughtfully. “Why don’t I just go with you to see what you’ve got?”

And so, they journey to the kitchen hand-in-hand, still not wearing any clothing. Wei Ying’s eyes light up when they land on three varieties of spicy chips he has, in the past, indicated he enjoys. He turns to Lan Zhan with wide eyes.

“Lan Zhan! I didn’t think you like foods with actual flavor…but you always have the spiciest snacks!”

Dodging the obvious question in the air, Lan Zhan pulls out a bag of spicy almonds from behind a container of rice. As expected, Wei Ying immediately lets the subject drop, snatching the bag from Lan Zhan’s hands. “Oh, nice! Do you have any popcorn?”

Lan Zhan retrieves a box of microwave popcorn on the top shelf and takes a bag out, ignoring his microwave’s falsely promising ‘popcorn’ button. A few minutes later, they make their way back to the bedroom, arms laden with all manner of snacks: spicy chips and almonds, popcorn, raisins (for Lan Zhan), and Wei Ying’s favorite soda. Wei Ying chatters excitedly about all manner of treats he enjoys, and Lan Zhan quietly compiles a mental list of things to put on his next grocery order. There is bound to be a mess of crumbs by the end of the night, which… Lan Zhan cringes inwardly at the thought of sleeping on broken chips and popcorn kernels. He’ll have to wash the bedding tomorrow.

But Wei Ying’s infectious joy as he pops handfuls of bright red almonds into his mouth, his hands getting sticky chili powder all over Lan Zhan’s remote…

The mess is a small price to pay for a perfect Friday night.

Nine o’clock comes and goes, taking the remainder of Lan Zhan’s energy with it. Wei Ying is sitting with his back propped against the headboard, and, turning down the television volume, he strokes Lan Zhan’s hair gently as he falls asleep in Wei Ying’s lap. 

Yes…there’s no other way Lan Zhan would rather spend his evening.

Chapter Text

“Ah, Lan Zhan, turn the heat up! Please, I’m freezing!” Wei Ying shivers for dramatic effect, and if it gets Lan Zhan to turn the shower handle more toward the warm side… Mission accomplished.

Stepping aside, Lan Zhan gestures for Wei Ying to go inside first. He sighs as the hot water cascades over him, instantly warming him up. Lan Zhan steps in behind him, and to his credit, his face barely changes when the hot spray splashes him. Wei Ying learned the first time they showered together that Lan Zhan actually likes taking cold showers! When an unsuspecting Wei Ying stepped into this shower that first time, he yelped and all but climbed the walls in an effort to escape. 

“C-c-cold!” he cried. “L-Lan Zhan, w-why is it so cold?!” 

Lan Zhan turned the handle further toward the center. “Here?”

It was barely any better, and Wei Ying told him as much.

By the time they were able to compromise on a reasonable temperature, Wei Ying’s fingertips were shriveled up and pruny. From that day forward, Wei Ying has never again been forced to endure the icy blast that Lan Zhan considers to be comfortable, but the negotiations over the water heat have persisted (with Wei Ying always managing to get his way).

Today, both Wei Ying and Lan Zhan wear their hair up. It’s become something of a routine: on Sunday mornings they wash their hair, and on Saturdays they don’t. In fact, much of Wei Ying’s life has become loosely scheduled around how much time he spends at Lan Zhan’s place. On Fridays, he finishes work at around 4:30, rushes home to the apartment he shares with Jiang Cheng, stuffs a duffel bag full of essentials, listens to Jiang Cheng gripe about how Wei Ying never has time for him on the weekend anymore (which isn’t true; Wei Ying spends plenty of time at his own home, thank you very much), and then he’s off to Lan Zhan’s again. They fuck as soon as Wei Ying can toss his bag down, hang out/watch tv/chat for a while, fuck again, eat at some point, and at nine o’clock sharp, Lan Zhan is out like a light. At this point, Wei Ying will either spend a few more hours watching television (with the volume turned nearly all the way down) or drawing until he’s able to fall asleep.

His sketchbook is basically a Sleeping Lan Zhan Album at this point—but what else is he supposed to draw when he doesn’t want to get out of Lan Zhan’s soft, cozy bed?

Lan Zhan always wakes up at ass o’clock, even on weekends, but he lets Wei Ying sleep in until a time when normal people get out of bed. Then it’s breakfast, shower, fucking—not always in that order. If there’s nothing going on, Wei Ying will stay the whole day, but more often than not, one or both of them will have other obligations. Family, errands, etc. Wei Ying always gets a funny, tight feeling in his stomach when Real Life forces him to leave Lan Zhan behind, which is stupid because, like clockwork, he always winds up back in Lan Zhan’s bed Saturday night. 

Today is one such Saturday morning. Both he and Lan Zhan have plans with their families—and it’s fine! Wei Ying hasn’t been spending nearly enough time with his jiejie lately, and even though Jiang Yanli is supportive of Wei Ying’s… whatever with Lan Zhan, it still sends a little flutter of guilt through him whenever he turns down an opportunity to see her and Jin Ling in favor of hanging out with Lan Zhan. 

It’s not just about the sex anymore (was it ever really?). Wei Ying genuinely loves…spending time with Lan Zhan. And if he’s reading the signs correctly, Lan Zhan enjoys Wei Ying’s company as well. At the very least, he never seems eager to see Wei Ying leave. If Wei Ying had realized how easy Lan Zhan is to talk to, how funny he is (in a dry, subtle way), he would have befriended him ages ago. 

Lan Zhan reaches up to push a lock of Wei Ying’s hair, falling down from his messy bun, behind his ear. His fingers linger, brushing the shell of Wei Ying’s ear, and…yeah. Wei Ying was a fool for taking so long to recognize all of Lan Zhan’s amazing qualities.

Like the rest of Lan Zhan’s house, the shower is fancy as all get out, with one of those bougie shower heads that makes it feel like it’s raining indoors. Grabbing Lan Zhan’s waist, Wei  Ying pulls him closer and closes his eyes, savoring the combined heat of the water and Lan Zhan’s chest. When he opens his eyes, Lan Zhan is looking down at him with a soft smile that Wei Ying has become intimately familiar with; it’s the same look Lan Zhan gives him when they’re basking in the afterglow. Wei Ying’s heart does a stuttering little swoop, which would give him pause if it didn’t happen so frequently these days. 

Weird.

“Ah, Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying leans almost all his weight on Lan Zhan. As always, he feels compelled to fill the silence with idle chatter. “I’m stealing your shower.”

With a minute quirk of the eyebrow, Lan Zhan asks, “How do you intend to steal a shower?”

“Don’t make me think of the details! All I know is that I’m gonna find a way to take this whole thing home with me.”

Huffing slightly, Lan Zhan squeezes some of his sandalwood-scented body wash (which probably cost quadruple what Wei Ying pays for soap) onto a washcloth. He holds out his upturned hand expectantly, and Wei Ying dutifully gives him his own hand. As Lan Zhan washes each arm in turn, Wei Ying continues rambling. 

“I should probably do some measurements first, just to make sure it’ll fit. It probably won’t, if I’m being honest. This shower is, like, almost as big as my entire bathroom. But I’ll find a way to make it work!”

Lan Zhan hums. “My shower is open anytime Wei Ying wishes to use it. On the condition that it remains in my house.”

“Yeah, but then I’d have to drive over every day. And you’d be sick of me in no time!”

Guiding Wei Ying to turn around, Lan Zhan washes his back with gentle strokes. “I would not mind.”

“I think my plan sounds much more realistic,” Wei Ying argues, just for the sake of arguing. He turns around once Lan Zhan has finished with his back, and before he can protest, Lan Zhan is kneeling to get his legs. Besides, Wei Ying now knows that it’s pointless to argue with Lan Zhan when he’s so insistent on being helpful. 

And seeing Lan Zhan on his knees is certainly no hardship.

Wei Ying swallows hard as less than pure thoughts begin coalescing in his mind. He’s starting to get hard, and when Lan Zhan looks up at him—

“Of course, the biggest benefit to using your shower is the fact that you’re in it,” Wei Ying says with a flirty grin. “Can I steal you along with it?”

“Ridiculous,” Lan Zhan mutters. His gaze shifts downward, and Wei Ying’s breath catches as Lan Zhan spends a long moment simply staring at his rising dick. 

Wei Ying gasps as he is taken into Lan Zhan’s warm, wet mouth. They’ve done this song and dance dozens of times by now, but it always feels like the first time with Lan Zhan. His eyes bore into Wei Ying’s with a familiar heat that makes Wei Ying feel helplessly exposed. Vulnerable. 

“Oh, ah, Lan Zhan…” He wraps his palm around the back of Lan Zhan’s neck, not pulling him in, but not letting him get away either. “Fuck, your mouth is amazing. How’d you get so good at sucking cock?”

He can’t help but grimace at his own words. As a general rule, he tries not to think of Lan Zhan’s previous, current, or future conquests. Doing so always leaves a sour taste in Wei Ying’s mouth, but it’s fine. Of course there will be other dicks that cross Lan Zhan’s tongue.

Wei Ying’s fingers tighten on Lan Zhan’s neck and, realizing what he’s doing, he releases him, resting the hand on Lan Zhan’s shoulder instead. Circling the tip with his tongue, Lan Zhan gives one final suck before rising to his feet. “Hey,” Wei Ying complains. “What’re you…?”

All of a sudden, Lan Zhan moves, pinning Wei Ying to the wall. The tile is cold against Wei Ying’s back, but Lan Zhan’s body is like a furnace in front of him. The conflicting sensations make Wei Ying’s head spin, and he holds on to Lan Zhan to ground himself. Lan Zhan slides a knee between Wei Ying’s while bringing their lips together, his tongue sliding into Wei Ying’s mouth, grazing across the sharp edge of his teeth. Wei Ying moans around it and grinds his hips down, rubbing his cock on Lan Zhan’s thigh.

Lan Zhan is hard, too, and when Wei Ying pauses to breathe — to think — he takes the task of grinding upon himself, pushing Wei Ying harder into the hard, cool wall. Breaking away from Wei Ying’s lips, he drags his teeth along Wei Ying’s jaw, down to his neck where he exerts enough pressure to make Wei Ying cry out in aroused pain. He always has marks when Lan Zhan gets through with him, whether it’s hickeys on his neck, bite marks on his chest, or hand-shaped bruises on his hips. As if on cue, Lan Zhan tightens his grip on Wei Ying’s ass, pulling their pelvises closer together.

With dawning horror, Wei Ying realizes that he could come from this alone. 

But Lan Zhan has other plans. He reaches for the conditioner and squeezes a generous amount into his palm (as if it doesn’t cost a small fortune) and slides his slick hand between his thigh and Wei Ying’s dick, easing the friction. Wei Ying’s head lolls back, thudding against the tile.

“Lan Zhan… You’re—you’re gonna make me— Fuck, we haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

Fingers, still slippery with conditioner, probe at Wei Ying’s asshole, and he angles his hips so that the tips slide inside. The intrusion makes him hiss, but he adapts quickly, his body more than accustomed to making room for Lan Zhan. Meanwhile, Lan Zhan resumes kissing Wei Ying with a force that would be terrifying if Wei Ying wasn’t—

He’s—

His eyes fly open as the world shatters around him. He’d crumple to the floor if not for Lan Zhan holding him up against the wall, his hips still grinding, grinding, grinding…

Once Wei Ying is spent and Lan Zhan trusts him not to fall over, he backs off slightly, taking his own dick in hand. His other hand comes up to hold Wei Ying’s cheek, gentle despite the desperate way his mouth steals Wei Ying’s breath away. There’s a warm, sticky splatter on Wei Ying’s thigh that is quickly carried away by the water, and so too are Wei Ying’s happy delusions washed away. He watches with new eyes as subtle expressions he can’t name flash across Lan Zhan’s face before, with one final kiss for Wei Ying, he steps away and sets about washing his own body. 

Wei Ying is silent for the rest of the shower, quietly disassembling the protective veil of lies that has shielded him from a truth known all along. Lan Zhan gives him a questioning look as he wraps a fluffy white towel around Wei Ying, but he doesn’t pry. A perfect gentleman, as always.

Lan Zhan is just…so… Good. He’s the best person Wei Ying has ever met, no competition.

What if he—

Would he—

Wei Ying forces himself to take a deep breath and calm. The. Fuck. Down. 

Nothing has changed. It’s just…

When he still hasn’t moved to dry himself, Lan Zhan looks at him with a concerned frown. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Wei Ying’s tongue is too heavy to form words. He tries to smile but fails miserably.

“Wei Ying?”

Blinking away the stinging in his eyes, Wei Ying forces himself to move. He wrings out his hair, unable to look at Lan Zhan any longer, now that he—

“Oh, I… I just got distracted,” he finally manages. It’s not a lie.

He’s keenly aware of Lan Zhan’s gaze on him, but it gets a bit easier to exist around his horrible, awful realization. Nothing has changed, nothing has changed, nothing has changed, he chants in his head. 

Perhaps he can will it into truth.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying will arrive any minute, and Lan Zhan has only just realized the egregious error he’s committed.

Holding the empty box of condoms in one hand, he uses the other to move things around in his bedside drawer, hoping against all odds that one may have fallen out at some point. He has no such luck.

Although Wei Ying is running a few minutes behind schedule, a glance at Lan Zhan’s wristwatch confirms that he doesn’t have time to run to the drugstore a few blocks away, which means that he will have to look Wei Ying in the eye and admit how badly he has fucked up. Logically, he knows that Wei Ying won’t be a dick about it. He will, however, tease Lan Zhan about this incident for years to come.

Lan Zhan frowns. Will they still be speaking in one, two, five, ten years?

Things are going well between them, at least from Lan Zhan’s perspective, but he can’t help but feel like an expiration date is looming over his head. They’ve seen each other almost every weekend for months now, covering nearly every surface of Lan Zhan’s house in all positions imaginable. How long will it take for Wei Ying to become bored of their arrangement? Will he still wish to speak to Lan Zhan once that day comes?

It’s no secret that Lan Zhan is…not exciting. He likes routines and regimens, preferring order whereas Wei Ying is pure chaos. Wei Ying is fun, even when they aren’t having sex, and there are sudden vivid splashes of color in Lan Zhan’s otherwise monochrome life. He has known from the beginning that he will be hurt when Wei Ying has had enough of him, but his heart still sinks to think of being here, in this big house, all alone, forever.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he tries to push the negativity out of his mind. What matters is that Wei Ying wants him now, and there’s no use grieving preemptively. When it ends, Lan Zhan wants to know that he did his best to savor every moment Wei Ying was in his arms.

The doorbell rings, making Lan Zhan startle. He tosses the empty box into the wastebasket and prepares himself for the worst. What if Wei Ying doesn’t want to stay without sex being on the agenda tonight?

Opening the door, Lan Zhan feels his heart stutter as it does every Friday. Every. Single. Time. Wei Ying is dressed casually, dark-wash jeans and a black t-shirt with the logo of a band Lan Zhan has never listened to. His face lights up when he sees Lan Zhan, his blinding smile almost too much to gaze upon, and he immediately cries out, “Lan Zhan!” as if he hadn’t expected Lan Zhan to be here, in his own home, at the time they agreed to meet.

Lan Zhan steps aside to let him in, breathing in the sweet, spicy scent as Wei Ying breezes by. As he closes the door, he agonizes over what he should say and whether it’s best to say it now—or if that would be even more awkward than bringing it up later. Before he can reach a decision, Wei Ying’s duffel bag hits the floor with a muffled thud. He lunges, pressing Lan Zhan against the door with a hand on his chest as his lips find Lan Zhan’s. 

Helpless to deny him, Lan Zhan kisses him back fiercely. It’s been a long, stressful week, and he needs a way to release the tension. What better way to relieve the strain than by losing himself in Wei Ying. 

He promises that he won’t let it go too far, but he can’t stop his body from responding. His hips grind against Wei Ying’s. They’re both hard already, and Wei Ying’s clever fingers unfasten Lan Zhan’s fly before slyly pulling his dick out of his underwear. 

“Wei Ying—” 

Tongue toying with Lan Zhan’s, Wei Ying is making it difficult for Lan Zhan to speak. His teeth graze Lan Zhan’s lower lip, and he pulls away just enough to say with a laugh, “Lan Zhan.”

He pumps Lan Zhan’s cock with long, slow strokes, all while his own hard dick digs into Lan Zhan’s hip. Letting out a small, pleased noise, almost a purr, he uses his other hand to pull Lan Zhan’s pants down his thighs. Before he can drop to his knees, Lan Zhan stops him. 

“Wei Ying.” 

The pout Lan Zhan receives is ruinous, threatening to shred his resolve to be responsible. To prove that it’s not a rejection, he pivots, reversing their positions. Wei Ying’s back hits the door, and his grin widens. “Lan-er-gege, so forceful. Have mercy on a man, won’t you?”

Lan Zhan tries to think of a way to delicately break the news to him, but Wei Ying is already yanking Lan Zhan’s shirt over his head. He does the same with his own, and Lan Zhan finds it very difficult to think of anything other than how warm and soft Wei Ying’s skin is against his own. Perhaps he can give Wei Ying a quick blowjob, and that will tide them over until they can run to the store. 

Wei Ying pushes off the door, forcing Lan Zhan to take a step back. Winking, he turns around, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall around his knees, and… Yeah. Lan Zhan is now incapable of thinking of anything other than Wei Ying’s firm, perky, round ass. 

Twisting his upper body, Wei Ying winds an arm around Lan Zhan’s neck and pulls him in for an over-the-shoulder kiss. He breaks away much too soon in Lan Zhan’s opinion, but all is forgiven when he takes Lan Zhan by the wrist, bringing his hand up to his lips, which wrap around three of Lan Zhan’s fingers. It takes deliberate effort for Lan Zhan to keep his knees from buckling as a warm, wet tongue circles his digits. The lewd sucking noises go straight to his dick. 

Without breaking eye contact, Wei Ying guides Lan Zhan’s hand downward, down to his ass. Lan Zhan understands immediately, and his middle finger glides in easily.

His eyes widen as he feels the slickness already there. 

“Ah, Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying wriggles his hips. “Fuuuuck, I’m ready. So, don’t tease me. Please.” 

Lan Zhan slips a second finger in, then a third, cursing under his breath. He pumps them in and out, his cock hard enough to cut through steel. 

“Ungh, Lan Zhan! I said I’m ready. Please, please, please. Your cock. Please!” 

Lan Zhan’s dick is one hundred percent onboard for this plan…but he can’t let things go any further.

He stands and withdraws his fingers. “Wei Ying… I am out of condoms.”

“Huh?” Wei Ying turns around, resting his back against the door again. He looks crestfallen. “Well…that sucks.”

“Indeed.” Lan Zhan hates himself for being the cause of Wei Ying’s disappointment. “I’m sorry to have been so negligent and irresponsible. It won’t take long for me to go purchase more…or we could stick with…things that don’t involve penetration.”

Wei Ying’s head tilts slightly as he mulls it over. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment or two. “You know…” Peering up at Lan Zhan from beneath his eyelashes, he seems reluctant to say whatever is on his mind. “I haven’t had sex with anyone since, like, four or five months before my birthday. Besides you, of course. Obviously.”

Lan Zhan’s thoughts come to a screeching halt once the implication registers. “That’s— I mean— It’s been a long time since—” He takes a deep breath, trying not to embarrass himself. “There’s been no one else. For about a year.”

“Really?” Wei Ying’s face breaks out in an unexpectedly relieved grin. “That’s great! Uh…because… Well, we should be fine, right? To…try it without?”

“Are you sure?” Lan Zhan has been tested in the time since his last not-Wei Ying sexual encounter, but he doesn’t want to pressure Wei Ying into unprotected sex when they’re not… 

“Yeah, I’m totally fine with it! I trust you, and… Um…” Wei Ying trails off with a frown, fidgeting with his fingers. “I guess we could just…like…let the other one know when something changes?”

“If you are certain,” says Lan Zhan slowly, carefully. “Then…yes.”

Wei Ying beams up at him. He turns around, bracing his forearms against Lan Zhan’s front door. “Okay. Great. Fantastic. Can we hurry up now? I’m dying to be fucked here, Lan Zhan.” 

Lan Zhan spreads the excess lube from his fingers onto his cock, then lines himself up. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pushes in. 

Wei Ying really went all out with the prepping; the glide is wet and smooth but still so tight. It takes concentrated effort for Lan Zhan to refrain from immediately burying himself balls-deep, but, breathing through his nose, he enters in one long, measured movement, giving Wei Ying ample time to adjust. Wei Ying, dissatisfied with the slow pace, presses back eagerly, urging Lan Zhan to “hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!”

“Be patient,” Lan Zhan chides, moving Wei Ying’s ponytail in front of his left shoulder so that he can kiss the back of his neck. “We have all night.”

Wei Ying continues to complain, but his nonsensical words wash over Lan Zhan without truly sinking in. He’s too busy fighting for his life, trying not to come instantly. Being a responsible adult who has never been in a serious relationship, Lan Zhan has never fucked anyone without a condom before, and the sensation can only be described as incredible. He can feel Wei Ying’s walls clinging to his cock, can feel the heat that radiates from deep inside him. He can feel the way Wei Ying tightens as he tries to push back, begging for more, and Wei Ying’s surrender as his body molds itself around Lan Zhan’s. His hips settle against Wei Ying’s ass, and Lan Zhan takes a long moment to breathe. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying casts a weak glare over his shoulder. “You’re being too mean to me! I came here to be fucked, and—”

Pulling out halfway, Lan Zhan slams back into Wei Ying, which earns a yelp and more grumbling about how “cruel” Lan Zhan is. Lan Zhan’s fingers dig into Wei Ying’s hips, yanking him back as he thrusts forward. Each motion makes Wei Ying’s ass cheeks jiggle, and once again, Lan Zhan wants to strike it with his open palm. He settles instead for grabbing a handful of each side and using it for leverage. His teeth sink into the junction of Wei Ying’s neck and shoulder.

Despite his whining, Wei Ying does his part in meeting Lan Zhan halfway. His mouth runs wild, egging Lan Zhan on, teasing. “Fuck, fuck yeah. Ahhh, Lan Zhan. Shit, shit, shit! No one, umph, fucks me like you do.”

Pride tinged by an animalistic need wells up within Lan Zhan, and he fucks Wei Ying harder, determined to give him a railing that won’t soon be forgotten. He grabs a fistful of Wei Ying’s hair and pulls, making his back bow in a beautiful arch.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck!” Wei Ying clenches around Lan Zhan, nearly sending him over the edge. “Lan Zhan! Ugh, I love…” 

The pause makes Lan Zhan’s breath hitch, his hopes rising without his permission.

“...your dick.”

Oh. 

Of course.

Lan Zhan doesn’t falter. He adjusts his hips, searching for the angle that robs Wei Ying of his words. Face buried in his arms, he moans and whines and chokes out fragments of Lan Zhan’s name. Then, he tightens suddenly around Lan Zhan, his muscles constricting erratically. He tenses and tenses and then relaxes suddenly, his body drooping. Lan Zhan holds him up with an arm around his chest, his hips stilling.

“Did you just…?”

“Uh…haha, yeah.” Wei Ying sounds as if he has run a marathon. “Didn’t know I could do that.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

“Absolutely not.” Wei Ying makes an effort to pull himself up. “I swear to god, Lan Zhan, if you stop I’ll die and then I’ll become a ghost and haunt you and—”

Lan Zhan fucks into him roughly, cutting him off. Closing his eyes, he lets himself get carried away by Wei Ying dominating each of his senses, and he holds onto him tightly as he falls apart. He never wants to let go.

He can’t let go. 

He rests his sweaty forehead against Wei Ying’s equally sweaty shoulder as the last of the shockwaves rumble through him, trying to regain his bearings. Pulling Wei Ying closer, he feels like his adoration will suffocate him. It is becoming increasingly difficult to hold in all the affection he feels.

Perhaps it is time to tell Wei Ying the truth. It feels horrible to lie by omission, but what if…

What if Wei Ying runs away? What if it ruins everything and Lan Zhan loses what little he has?

Wei Ying said earlier, I guess we could…let the other one know when something changes?

When, not if. 

It is clear that Wei Ying does not view this arrangement as something permanent, and pushing for more will only hasten its demise. 

Swallowing thickly, Lan Zhan puts his feelings back where they belong, under lock and key. Wei Ying must never find out. Willing away the tears gathering in his eyes, Lan Zhan stitches himself back together piece by piece, preparing himself to face Wei Ying once more.

Clinging to the door for support, Wei Ying manages to turn around. He begins to sink toward the floor, but Lan Zhan catches him around the waist as Wei Ying’s hands swipe over his eyes. 

“Fuck,” Wei Ying exhales shakily. He’s trembling slightly and gives Lan Zhan a watery smile. “Give me a minute for my legs to start working again.”

Without giving him any forewarning, Lan Zhan wraps one arm around Wei Ying’s shoulders, the other around his knees, and lifts. Wei Ying protests vehemently, but Lan Zhan pretends not to hear him until he’s made it to the bedroom. Depositing him gently onto the bed, Lan Zhan relieves him of his shoes, pants, underwear, and socks. Then, he retrieves the wet wipes and carefully pushes Wei Ying’s legs apart. Keeping his face deliberately neutral, he can’t stop himself from feeling a savage satisfaction at seeing his come dripping from Wei Ying, but he cleans him with swift, methodical motions and quickly disposes of the wipes.

He crawls into the bed with Wei Ying, and they lie face to face. Wei Ying’s eyes are wide and alert, watching Lan Zhan as he sifts through a mess of conflicting emotions. He wriggles closer and throws an arm around Lan Zhan’s waist. “That was…”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agrees.

Wei Ying grins. “Ah, but Lan Zhan! What’ll we do if I get pregnant?”

Heat rises to Lan Zhan’s face. “Ridiculous.”

Giggling at his own bad joke, Wei Ying buries his face in Lan Zhan’s chest. “I don’t even know if I’ll be any help when we go again. You’ll have to hold me up—or down, or whichever way you want me.”

Lan Zhan wants him in every way, but it does no good to say as much. 

“But…” Wei Ying yawns. “I might need to take a nap before we do anything else.”

“That is fine.” Pulling the blanket over Wei Ying’s body, Lan Zhan holds him as he falls asleep. 

Lan Zhan usually never sleeps during the day, but his mind feels too heavy to stay awake. He makes a mental note to clean the door later as he drifts off. 

Chapter Text

It’s Sunday afternoon, and Wei Ying is trying not to think about the fact that he needs to be getting out of Lan Zhan’s hair soon. To be fair, Lan Zhan doesn’t seem to be in any particular rush to get rid of him; he has both arms wrapped around Wei Ying’s middle as Wei Ying lies draped across him on the couch like a human blanket. The tv is playing a C-drama romance with which Lan Zhan is pretending not to be secretly obsessed, and this gives Wei Ying lots and lots of time to stare at the angelic contours of Lan Zhan’s profile. 

He really, really… likes Lan Zhan. It feels like he could burst with how much he enjoys spending time here, having a lazy day with the prettiest, smartest, most interesting person he knows. His heart feels light as a feather, rabbiting away in his chest like mad.

The show cuts to an ad, and Lan Zhan hits pause, gently extracting himself from Wei Ying’s grasp and excusing himself to use the restroom. Wei Ying watches him go, his fondness colored by a spark of horniness at seeing the way Lan Zhan’s sweats hug his perfect ass. Lan Zhan disappears around a corner, and Wei Ying flings himself back into the couch cushions, wondering when he became so attached to the man he was once sure hated him.

But Lan Zhan said he never hated Wei Ying.

The words relieved an ache Wei Ying hadn’t realized existed within him, all those years of thinking Lan Zhan despised him. He was always so harsh with Wei Ying, so abrupt and snappish. He never had more than two words to spare for Wei Ying, and those words were usually “shameless” or “ridiculous.” Of course, Lan Zhan isn’t exactly the chatty type, but it always seemed like he especially hated talking with Wei Ying. This didn’t deter Wei Ying from teasing Lan Zhan, but he realizes now that it stung, in a way, to be disliked so thoroughly on principle. 

But Lan Zhan never hated him. 

Wei Ying wouldn’t dare go so far as to assume Lan Zhan liked him, but it’s kind of nice knowing that, even if Lan Zhan wasn’t Wei Ying’s biggest fan when they were younger, he is at least willing to put up with him today. In fact, Wei Ying would venture so far as to say that Lan Zhan enjoys his company now . And at the end of the day, isn’t that all that really matters? 

Still, Wei Ying wants to take things further. He wants Lan Zhan’s undivided attention. He wants…

When Lan Zhan returns, Wei Ying is on the floor, lying on his back with all four limbs splayed out at chaotic angles. His tongue is sticking out for good measure, but he can’t stop himself from smiling when he hears Lan Zhan’s quiet little sigh. Peeking one eye open, he sees Lan Zhan standing above him, amused but unsure of how to proceed. Wei Ying decides to give him a hint:

“Oh nooo!” he cries in a throaty, high-pitched voice that he thinks is funny. “He died! Someone give him CPR, quick!” 

Lan Zhan snorts softly, but Wei Ying hears him shifting into a kneeling position. A warm hand lands on his inner thigh, where the athletic shorts he’s borrowed from Lan Zhan are riding up. Silky hair cascades over his face, tickling his nose, which wrinkles, subduing a sneeze. Then, there’s a soft, hot press of Lan Zhan’s lips to his, and Wei Ying is melting…melting…into the floor. His grin widens as he wraps his arms around Lan Zhan.

He flips over suddenly, pinning Lan Zhan to the floor with a leg on either side of his hips. “Ha! Got your ass!”

“Got my ass,” Lan Zhan concedes. “Do as you wish.”

Wei Ying clicks his tongue. “Ah, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… You’re gonna regret writing me a blank check to ‘do as I wish.’”

Lan Zhan’s fingers drift beneath Wei Ying’s shirt (also borrowed), rubbing small circles along his waist. “What will you do with me?”

“Hmm…” Wei Ying rests his chin in hand, considering. “What should I do with Lan Zhan?” 

He smirks, leaning forward and bracing his hands on the floor on either side of Lan Zhan’s head. Lan Zhan angles his face upward, his lips puckering slightly. Wei Ying leans into him, not quite letting their lips touch.

“Got you right where I want you,” he brags, finally giving in and brushing their lips together.

“Do you?” Lan Zhan asks.

Wei Ying has no time to parse this question before the hands around his waist tighten, and he finds himself suddenly flung onto his back again. Strong hands wrench his thighs apart, and Lan Zhan settles his solid weight comfortably on top of him. He kisses Wei Ying, giving him no space to breathe. Still laughing, Wei Ying loves every second of it. Lan Zhan is so fun, even if nobody else believes him (aside from his jiejie). Also, Wei Ying is quickly becoming aroused, and he can feel Lan Zhan’s hardening length rub up against his own. 

Nipping the sensitive spot below Wei Ying’s jaw, Lan Zhan pulls up Wei Ying’s shirt to caress the soft skin of his belly. The shirt gets in the way as his hands wander, and he eventually coaxes Wei Ying into sitting up so he can get rid of it. He bites Wei Ying’s shoulder, and Wei Ying whines. “No fair! Yours needs to come off, too!”

Lan Zhan drags his tongue across Wei Ying’s collar bone before complying. His smooth, heated skin against Wei Ying’s feels divine, and his mouth has gotten a little bit too good at making Wei Ying fall apart. Ruthlessly exploiting every weakness, he works a hand between them to cup Wei Ying cock through his shorts.

“Er-gege,” Wei Ying moans, arching into his touch. “Fuck! You’re gonna cover me in bruises, you brute!”

Lan Zhan hums, as if Wei Ying has issued a challenge to leave more marks on his body. This is perfect, because Wei Ying always spends an inordinate amount of time admiring the bite marks Lan Zhan bestows upon him, and it saddens him when they begin to fade as the week progresses. He loves when he’s able to come over during the week because that means there will be fresh, new ornaments for him to admire privately, reminders of Lan Zhan’s mouth and hands on him. Teeth digging into Wei Ying’s left pec, Lan Zhan adds a bruise there, then covers the nipple with his mouth and sucks. Wei Ying feels about two seconds away from coming in his pants, but Lan Zhan stops suddenly to yank his shorts and underwear down in one motion. 

“Fu… fuck…” Wei Ying shivers at the unconcealed hunger in Lan Zhan’s eyes as he looks down at Wei Ying’s twitching dick. His tongue swipes across his lips, and Wei Ying needs this man inside him yesterday. “Lan Zhan!” 

Suddenly, Lan Zhan is on hands and knees, licking a hot strip up the underside of Wei Ying’s cock. His tongue laves the head, lapping up the precome drooling from the tip. Then, he swallows Wei Ying down to the root, throat constricting around his length. Wei Ying cries out, so close to coming already, but Lan Zhan’s mouth is gone as quickly as it came. 

“Wait here,” he says, his voice low and vaguely ominous. “Lube.”

It feels a bit silly to be letting it all hang out on Lan Zhan’s expensive and surprisingly comfy rug, but Wei Ying waits patiently. His fingers curl into claws as he keeps them deliberately on the floor. 

True to his word, Lan Zhan returns, and bless the gods, he has abandoned the last of his clothing somewhere along the way. His hard cock bobs with each step he takes, and Wei Ying is almost sad when he sinks to his knees because it means that Wei Ying is no longer able to ogle it. Slick fingers circle Wei Ying’s rim before two slide slowly inside. His body is still relaxed from the last few rounds, so he pleads impatiently. “Ungh, Lan Zhan! C’mon, I need more.” 

Lan Zhan scissors his fingers lazily, ignoring Wei Ying’s pleas. Cruel. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck, Wei Ying smothers a laugh at knowing how much Lan Zhan likes to hear him beg for mercy. He chases Lan Zhan’s mouth, stealing every kiss he can until, finally, Lan Zhan has three fingers pumping in and out of him slowly. 

“You have, ah, very selective hearing, Lan Zhan! I asked—oh, yes, right there—I asked you to hurry up.”

Tired of waiting, Wei Ying’s fingers close around Lan Zhan’s dick, attempting to guide it in. Lan Zhan grabs Wei Ying’s wrist and pins it at an uncomfortable angle, but he nevertheless complies. He releases Wei Ying’s arm and grabs onto his legs, pulling them up until Wei Ying’s lower back is arched off the floor.

“Thighs. Together.”

Wei Ying snickers as he brings his knees together, his calves held apart by Lan Zhan’s hands. Lan Zhan isn’t much of a talker, but sex sometimes turns him into a caveman incapable of speaking in complete sentences. As Lan Zhan eases inside him, however, Wei Ying is the one who momentarily forgets how to speak.

The angle is exquisite, the penetration deep and gratifying. Lan Zhan does not start slow; he sets a ruthless pace that leaves Wei Ying gasping and stuttering, having already been teased to near-completion. Weight resting on his shoulder blades, he can’t get the leverage he needs to meet Lan Zhan’s thrusts, which leaves him to helplessly weather the pounding.

Finding his voice, Wei Ying decides to push Lan Zhan’s buttons a little. “Ah! Oh, fuck! Lan Zhannn, stop! You’re gonna break me in half.”

“You’re fine.” Lan Zhan snaps their hips together roughly, each movement making Wei Ying’s back drag against the carpet.

Is he going to get a rug burn from being fucked? He hopes so.

“Ha!” Wei Ying laughs. “What would everyone say if they knew the perfect Lan Zhan is so mean in bed? Well, we’re not in bed. But you get what I’m saying.”

Lan Zhan’s only response is to fuck him harder, his cock dragging against Wei Ying’s prostate on every thrust. Needing just a little bit more to cross the finish line, Wei Ying reaches for his dick, planning to get himself off, quick and efficient. Before his hand can reach its destination, Lan Zhan swats it away, glaring down at him.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Wei Ying asks in feigned shock. “I have a right to touch my own dick!”

“No,” Lan Zhan repeats. “You will come like this or not at all.”

Fuck. The commanding tone of his voice is almost enough to make Wei Ying come undone, all on its own. Pouting, he makes another attempt to touch himself, only for his wrist to be slapped away again, a bit harder this time.

“Aiyah, Lan Zhan! You should tie my hands up next time if you're this concerned about where I put them!”

Lan Zhan slows down, then stops entirely. “Would you like that?”

“Huh?”

“Your hands. Tied up. Would you like it?”

“Oh.” Wei Ying has never thought about it before, but his cock twitches at the thought of being helpless while Lan Zhan does whatever he wants to him. “Yeah… I think that could be fun.”

The corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth curls minutely, and Wei Ying’s insides turn to mush. Lan Zhan is really just so… He’s…

Precious.

Wei Ying still isn’t sure what to do with the hornets nest of feelings Lan Zhan has kicked up inside him. He wants more of Lan Zhan’s time, Lan Zhan’s attention, Lan Zhan’s heart, and he’s playing a dangerous game each time he comes around. Lan Zhan did not sign up to be Wei Ying’s boyfriend. 

But it’s okay. What they’re doing now is enough. It’s been only a couple of weeks since Wei Ying realized he might possibly be kinda sorta falling for Lan Zhan, so it’s only natural to feel a bit out of sorts. The feelings will surely pass, and in the meantime, Wei Ying is going to continue to be Totally Normal about having sex with a man he may or may not be in love with.

Lan Zhan begins to move again, his thrusts accelerating gradually. Unsure of what to do with his hands, Wei Ying lets them fall to the floor beside his head. The way Lan Zhan’s gaze bores into his makes Wei Ying squirm, but he has nowhere to go with his hips still being held several inches off the ground. When Lan Zhan looks at him like that, it’s easy to slip into dangerous fantasies of Lan Zhan wanting him. Really wanting him. 

“Fuck, does it feel good? To use me like this?” he asks, a slow grin unfolding.

“Yes.” The word is punctuated with a particularly sharp thrust. “Tight.”

Wei Ying pretends to pout. “Am I not always tight?”

A small furrow appears between Lan Zhan’s eyebrows. “You are always very tight.” 

“Flatterer,” says Wei Ying, as if he wasn’t fishing for compliments. He keens as Lan Zhan’s cock hits a deep, toe-curling spot inside him. “Hnng, Lan Zhan, I-I’m getting close.”

“Me, too.” 

On the surface, Lan Zhan looks perfectly calm, placid as still water. But Wei Ying knows him well enough to see the agitation stirring in the depths of those warm, amber eyes. He can feel it in the way Lan Zhan’s fingers dig into his calves, in the rough way his hips slam into Wei Ying’s. 

Being the focal point of Lan Zhan’s desire is such a heady feeling that Wei Ying nearly blacks out as he comes. He comes so hard that some of it splatters his chin, but most of it winds up on his chest and stomach. His muscles contract around Lan Zhan’s cock with a steady, pulsing rhythm, each one pushing little dribbles of spend from his dick. 

It’s impossible to hold his thighs together, but Lan Zhan doesn’t stop fucking him, although he does slow down slightly. Gently lowering Wei Ying’s legs to the floor, he drops to his elbows, guiding a loose-limbed Wei Ying to wrap his arms around him. He kisses Wei Ying fiercely as his rhythm falters, his cock swelling inside him, and fuck, there’s no condom separating them, so Wei Ying can feel absolutely everything. 

Lan Zhan grunts as he comes, biting down hard on Wei Ying’s lower lip. He rests almost all his weight on Wei Ying, making it hard to breathe, or maybe that’s just a side effect of how badly Wei Ying wants him. As they cool down, their kisses become more subdued, tender.

After a while, Lan Zhan pulls away, his softening cock sliding out of Wei Ying much sooner than he would like. Lan Zhan stands, then offers a hand to Wei Ying to help him to his feet. One of the nice things about Lan Zhan’s house is that there are three bathrooms — three! Wei Ying goes into the one in the hall to clean up, while Lan Zhan goes to the en suite attached to his room, and he spends a moment leaning on the counter, trying to clear his head.

After a minute or two, he turns on the tap and splashes some cold water on his face. Everything is going to be fine. He repeats it again and again until the words bleed into one another. Sighing, he pats his face dry with a hand towel and puts on his best Everything Is Normal expression.

He finds Lan Zhan sitting on the couch, fully clothed, and frowns. If he were king, he would make a law stating that Lan Zhan is no longer allowed to wear clothing. But, actually…that means everyone would get to see him naked, and Wei Ying doesn’t like the idea of sharing him. So, he supposes that Lan Zhan will retain the right to clothing for now.

Lan Zhan’s head tilts slightly to one side as Wei Ying processes this, frankly stupid, train of thought. Putting on a bright smile, Wei Ying throws on his borrowed clothing and flops onto the couch, nestling into Lan Zhan’s side. They finish the episode they were on, and Lan Zhan asks, “Would you like to watch another?”

Yes, Wei Ying wants to sit through another episode, just so he can keep Lan Zhan’s arms around him, but he’s hogged enough of Lan Zhan’s time this weekend, so it’s probably time to head out.

“I should get going,” he says, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. “Ah, Lan Zhan… It’s been really fun.”

“It has?” 

Lan Zhan seems skeptical, which makes Wei Ying laugh. “Did you not have a good time? Ouch, that’s harsh!”

“I…” Lan Zhan swallows. “I had fun as well.”

They stand, and Wei Ying stretches, dragging the time out as he grabs his duffel bag and sets to work retrieving all of the items strewn around Lan Zhan’s bedroom. He doesn’t bother grabbing his toothbrush. It was getting annoying to bring his toothbrush from home to Lan Zhan’s and back every week, so Lan Zhan bought Wei Ying a new one to keep here. Wei Ying likes knowing that, even during the week, Lan Zhan’s house bears traces of his presence. He’s lost several shirts, a pair of shorts, and a necklace, but he isn’t worried about getting them back any time soon. He even steals a few things of Lan Zhan’s every now and then. For example, his current outfit. It seems silly to change clothes again, and Lan Zhan probably won’t mind. 

As always, Lan Zhan walks him to the door, and Wei Ying takes his time. Duffel bag slung over one shoulder, he winds the other arm around Lan Zhan’s waist, kissing him over and over again. 

“I guess…I should…go…” Wei Ying manages between kisses.

“Mn.” This is not one of Lan Zhan’s I agree mn’s. 

Nevertheless, Wei Ying can’t delay the inevitable forever. He kisses Lan Zhan one final time, squeezes his waist, and, finally, leaves.

He misses Lan Zhan by the time he reaches his car.

Chapter Text

“Ah, it’s been a long time since we met up here!” Arms held out to the side, Wei Ying flops backward onto his mattress, bouncing. 

Lan Zhan takes a seat on the edge of the bed, his hand coming to rest on Wei Ying’s knee, and he takes a moment to look around. There was obviously a last-minute effort to tidy the place up. Heaps of laundry have been tossed halfway into the hamper, with most of it hanging on the lip of the basket. There’s a thin coat of dust around the corners of the bookshelf, not quite reached by whatever was used to wipe the shelves, and the bed seems to have been hastily made with the topsheet lying in a crumpled heap on the floor at the end of the bed. These little details are just so Wei Ying that Lan Zhan can’t suppress a smile. 

“What made you want to come here instead of meeting at your place?” asks Wei Ying.

Lan Zhan hesitates, carefully selecting his words. “It seems unfair that you always come to me. I thought I should come to you for once.”

It had been a last-minute decision to have their weekly arrangement at Wei Ying’s apartment, but Lan Zhan wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. Hopefully giving Wei Ying the home field advantage will make the things Lan Zhan has planned go smoothly. Though, to be fair, Wei Ying does fit into Lan Zhan’s space with alarming ease. Perhaps Lan Zhan is overthinking it, but with so many things that could go wrong, it is best to err on the side of caution.

Wei Ying laughs, rolling onto his side to face Lan Zhan. “That’s so thoughtful! But really, Lan Zhan. I don’t mind being at your house. Just… Well, I hope I don’t overstay my welcome.”

“Nonsense.” If Lan Zhan had his way, Wei Ying would never leave Lan Zhan’s house. The mornings he wakes up with no Wei Ying in his bed always feel hollow.

“Do you remember the first time we were here?” Wei Ying asks, laying a hand on Lan Zhan’s thigh. “God… I was so confused.”

Lan Zhan places a hand over Wei Ying’s, slotting their fingers together. “Confused?”

“Duh! Of course I was confused. Up until then, I was sure I was straight.”

“You mean…?” Lan Zhan also assumed Wei Ying was uninterested in men, regardless of how he seemed to flirt with Lan Zhan at every opportunity. Wei Ying simply flirts with everyone; it’s in his nature to tease.

But that night at the party, Wei Ying had Lan Zhan cornered and his eyes kept darting down to Lan Zhan’s mouth. His intentions seemed so obvious, and Lan Zhan is only just now realizing how poorly things could have gone after his restraint snapped. 

Pulling himself up into a sitting position, Wei Ying flashes Lan Zhan a conspiratorial grin. “Should we get down to it?”

Lan Zhan swallows thickly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying gets up on his knees, lazily draping his arms around Lan Zhan’s shoulders. “I was ready twenty years ago.”

“You…” Lan Zhan tries not to read too much into it. Surely Wei Ying isn’t implying…

Wei Ying giggles. “Your ears! Ah, Lan Zhan! They’re getting so red!”

Smothering the impulse to cover his blushing ears with his hands, Lan Zhan narrows his eyes. “Get undressed.”

Still laughing, Wei Ying pulls his t-shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere in the laundry hamper’s general direction. Lan Zhan begins disrobing as well, taking his time to steady his nerves. When they are both naked, he pulls Wei Ying in for a soft, lingering kiss that starts slow and sweet but quickly builds momentum. Wei Ying throws a leg over Lan Zhan’s lap to straddle him, and they make out for a while just like this, grinding as they get hard.

When he can withstand no more teasing, Lan Zhan stands, lifting Wei Ying up with him. Wrapping his legs around Lan Zhan's waist, Wei Ying snickers. “Aiyah, so strong.”

Lan Zhan rolls his eyes and wastes no time laying Wei Ying on his back. He tells himself One last kiss more times than he can count before finally tearing himself away from Wei Ying's tempting mouth and working his way down the column of his throat. He sinks his teeth into the side of Wei Ying's neck, and the way Wei Ying cries out makes Lan Zhan want to bite him again, harder, to mark him permanently.

“Are you ready?” Lan Zhan's voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper. 

They’re really doing this.

Wei Ying nods a bit frantically. “Yeah! C'mon, do it now.”

Pausing for one more “one more” kiss, Lan Zhan reaches for the bag he brought with him. He pulls out a length of thick white silk, guiding Wei Ying to feel it. “It should be easy to get out of if needed.”

“I wasn’t really worried about that,” Wei Ying says with a subdued smile. “I trust you, Lan Zhan.”

Something bright and buoyant rises in Lan Zhan’s chest. He averts his gaze, looking back down at the ribbon held in both their hands. “In any case, it is best to be safe.”

“You’re right,” Wei Ying begrudgingly admits, letting go. “You’re always right. Now, are you gonna tie me up or not?”

A huff of laughter escapes Lan Zhan, and Wei Ying’s gaze softens. He holds his arms together expectantly, and, not wanting to waste any more time, Lan Zhan wraps the ribbon around his wrists. Tying it loosely, he receives a look of disapproval from Wei Ying. He sighs and ties it tighter. 

Wei Ying moves his arms around, attempting to pull them apart. He smirks before going wide-eyed, playing innocent. “Oh no! Whatever are you going to do with me?”

Lan Zhan feels a tug at the corners of his mouth, amused as always by Wei Ying’s play-acting. He gently guides Wei Ying onto his back once more, moving his hands to rest above his head.  Although he submits easily, Wei Ying is still pretending to be naive. “Lan-er-gongzi, what are you doing? Mmph!” 

He is silenced by Lan Zhan’s mouth. They kiss for a while, and Lan Zhan lets his hands wander along every part of Wei Ying he can reach. Wei Ying twists and wriggles beneath him, his uneven breaths washing across Lan Zhan’s lips as he gasps and moans. 

Pulling away to look at Wei Ying’s face, Lan Zhan levels him with a serious stare. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Ugh, no,” Wei Ying whines. “Er-gege, half of the fun is begging you to have mercy and being ignored. Fuck, it’s so hot when you’re being a bitch.”

“Then, we will need to find some other signal.”

“What about…” Wei Ying’s nose scrunches up. “‘Radishes.’”

“Radishes?”

“Yeah.” Wei Ying sticks his tongue out. “That’s one thing you’ll never hear me asking for. I can’t think of a better way to kill the mood.”

“Fine.” Dipping his head, Lan Zhan kisses the furrow between Wei Ying’s eyebrows. “‘Radishes’ it is.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled…” Wei Ying makes a show of trying to pry his arms apart. “Ah, Lan Zhan! You have to let me go!”

“No.” 

Lan Zhan is still wrestling with the recent realization that he likes to use force. It would make him question his morals—except Wei Ying enjoys it so much that it can’t be completely wrong, can it? At any rate, he would never actually hurt Wei Ying, and if it brings them mutual satisfaction, where’s the harm? With this in mind, Lan Zhan closes his eyes and gives in to his desires. 

He pins Wei Ying’s arms to the mattress and kisses him silent. When Wei Ying is too distracted to complain, he nibbles his way down Wei Ying’s body, and he spends a long time giving each part of Wei Ying the undivided attention it deserves. He nips at the sharp jut of his hip, carefully avoiding his cock.

“P-please…” Wei Ying groans. “Lan…Lan Zhan…please…”

Lan Zhan pulls away enough to ask. “Please what?”

“You know what I want,” Wei Ying complains. “Why are you so mean?!” 

Hiding his grin against Wei Ying’s thigh, Lan Zhan struggles to regain his composure. “You’ll take what I give you.”

“Oh, c’mon… Lan-er-gege, you’re being too cruel. My poor dick is right there, and you’re just gonna ignore it?”

“I am not ignoring it.”

“You aren’t?”

“Of course not. It is a very nice cock, Wei Ying.”

“Ack, don’t say that!” Wei Ying complains.

“Why not?” Lan Zhan presses a gentle kiss to Wei Ying’s lower belly. “Every part of Wei Ying is nice.”

“Lan Zhan! Seriously! This is too mu—”

Wei Ying lets out a strangled yelp as Lan Zhan takes him into his mouth. Rolling his tongue around the head, he watches Wei Ying with keen eyes as he writhes in place, arms still bound above his head. Lan Zhan doesn’t give him much time to enjoy it before pulling away to fetch the lube. Wei Ying complains the whole time, his hips jerking upwards. 

Dribbling a generous stream onto his fingers, Lan Zhan prepares Wei Ying quickly and efficiently. Wei Ying’s muscles clench and unclench around his fingers, pulsing, and his mouth spews all manner of pleas and frustrated complaints. “Oh, fuck! Hurry up—I’m ready— I—”

Withdrawing his fingers, Lan Zhan strokes himself, spreading lube along the shaft while Wei Ying whines. “Lan Zhannn, why are you doing this to your poor Wei Ying?”

Lan Zhan freezes. 

His Wei Ying.

God, if only. 

Sitting up on his knees, he lifts Wei Ying’s ass off the mattress. He sinks into him slowly, placing Wei Ying’s ankles on his shoulders. Breathing in deeply, he digs deep for his restraint; it’s been weeks since they agreed to forgo protection, and Lan Zhan still can’t get over how good it feels to be inside Wei Ying without being separated by latex.  

He leans forward slightly, folding Wei Ying in half. Wei Ying’s arms flex as he tries to break free, his eyes bright and challenging. The teasing slant of his mouth begs for kisses, but Lan Zhan can’t quite reach without releasing Wei Ying’s legs. He rocks his hips slowly back and forth.

Wei Ying gasps. “Ah, ugh, Lan Zhan! Go easy on me—you’re too big!”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Lan Zhan thrusts harder, earning a wide grin that Wei Ying quickly erases. 

“Ouch! Seriously, Lan Zhan! It hurts!”

“You are fine.” Lan Zhan keeps his voice stern, and he fucks Wei Ying with short, sharp thrusts. “Stop complaining.” 

“But—ah!” A beautiful flush is working its way from Wei Ying’s face down his neck. Lan Zhan wants to taste it. “Please, Lan Zhan. Mercy!”

He’s a terrible actor, face threatening to break into a smile at any moment. His body responds to Lan Zhan’s touch like a live wire, sparking beneath Lan Zhan’s fingertips. Electric.

The admiration Lan Zhan has been secretly nurturing for the better part of two decades burns brighter than ever, his love threatening to eclipse all reason. He would have never believed, all those years ago, that he would be here, like this, with Wei Ying willingly tied up beneath him. Wei Ying, who wants Lan Zhan. 

And this should be enough. Lan Zhan’s heart shouldn’t ache for more when they are intimately entwined like this. He shouldn’t already be missing Wei Ying when they won’t say goodbye for a few more hours. He shouldn’t be biting his tongue to hold back words like “please be mine” and “forever,” greedy for things that Wei Ying hasn’t offered.

“Y-yeah…” Wei Ying continues babbling nonsense, not even remembering that he’s supposed to be putting on a grand act of resisting. “Please, please, please, Lan Zhan, Lan—ah! Fuck me, fuck me harder!”

Lan Zhan obliges him, because how could he ever say no to that? His fingers dig into the lithe muscles of Wei Ying’s thighs as he drives into him over and over again. Meanwhile, Wei Ying’s mouth continues to run nonstop, not even bothering to keep up the feeble pretense of resistance. 

“Oh my god—shit, shit, shit—yes! Fuck, twist me like a pretzel. Lan Zhan…”

His eyes flutter closed, entrusting himself completely to Lan Zhan’s care. His hair is fanned out over the pillows like spilled ink, and Lan Zhan feels like his heart is going to leap out of his mouth. Gritting his teeth, he takes deep breaths around the tangled knot of foolish words attempting to bubble to the surface. Not yet, not yet, not yet.  

The muscles in his stomach are wound tight, and his arms and legs are trembling. Wei Ying’s eyes open and are filled with so much undeserved fondness that Lan Zhan can hold on no longer. Rhythm faltering, he spills inside Wei Ying, all while Wei Ying cheers him on, telling him to “Come inside me, please! Lan Zhan…”

As Lan Zhan shudders through the final echoes of his orgasm, Wei Ying’s tied together hands come down to stroke his cock. Lan Zhan is exhausted, but he swats the hands away, quickly pulling out and yanking Wei Ying’s lower half up until he can get his mouth around him. Wei Ying shouts as he comes down Lan Zhan’s throat, his bound arms flailing wildly. When Wei Ying is spent, Lan Zhan eases off the suction but continues to roll his tongue lazily around the head. 

“Ah! D-don’t—” 

Wei Ying’s legs tighten, and Lan Zhan is barely able to push them far enough apart with his hands to keep his head from being crushed. When Wei Ying is no longer able to form a coherent complaint, Lan Zhan finally releases him, carefully placing his legs down on the bed. He then sets to work untying the ribbon.

Letting out a long, shaky sigh, Wei Ying grins as he stretches his arms. “Fuck, that was good. Such amazing ideas, er-gege. Who would’ve guessed that you have such a kinky mind?”

“I believe the use of restraints was your idea,” Lan Zhan points out. Taking Wei Ying’s right hand, he gently massages the red lines around his wrist. “But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

“You can’t get out of taking your fair share of credit!” Wei Ying insists as he lets Lan Zhan dote on him. In the same breath, he says, “I should invest in a pair of handcuffs. Ooh! Maybe you could pin my arms to the headboard, and…”

Hanging onto every word of Wei Ying’s plans for how he would like to be tied up in the future, Lan Zhan decides that he will take the initiative to buy some cuffs—and maybe a few other things—later this week. Wei Ying may not fully return Lan Zhan’s feelings, but at least he has allotted Lan Zhan a place in his vision of the future. Fetching the wet wipes from his bag, Lan Zhan tries not to think about the day when Wei Ying no longer has a use for him.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying loves lying on his back while being fucked. It allows him to run his hands all along Lan Zhan’s unfairly sculpted muscles, and he gets to relax and enjoy all of the enjoyable things Lan Zhan does to him. It also doesn’t hurt that Lan Zhan’s mattress is heavenly, firm and soft all at once.

But Wei Ying also likes to be on top.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan doesn’t stop. “Mn?”

“Sit on the edge of the bed.”

This time, Lan Zhan pauses. “Sit on the edge?”

“Yeah! I have an idea.” 

In his mind, Wei Ying’s plan is to have Lan Zhan sit with his feet on the floor while Wei Ying rides him. They’ve fucked on almost every chair in Lan Zhan’s house, right down to the kitchen barstools, but they haven’t tried it on the edge of the bed. Crawling off of him, Wei Ying allows Lan Zhan to sit up. Lan Zhan leans in for a slow, lingering kiss before swinging his legs over the bedside and beckoning Wei Ying over. Wei Ying places a leg on each side of Lan Zhan, looping one arm around his neck while the other guides Lan Zhan’s cock into place. He sinks onto it with a satisfied sigh. Lan Zhan’s hands each grab a handful of Wei Ying’s ass, which is also very nice. Shifting his knees slightly, Wei Ying begins the rise and fall, repeating it a few times. They’ve just hit their previous tempo again when Lan Zhan’s entire body tenses.

He stands.

What the fuck?! 

Lan Zhan continues fucking Wei Ying without skipping a beat, supporting all of his weight while standing. Wei Ying could understand this is if he was a foot shorter or fifty pounds lighter or a woman — maybe he should ask Lan Zhan for his workout secrets. Whatever he is doing is obviously working. Seriously, how is he not even remotely struggling to hold Wei Ying up?! 

He hasn’t even broken a sweat???

(Wei Ying is sweating enough for the both of them.)

After a few moments of stupefaction, Wei Ying wraps his legs around Lan Zhan’s waist. He decides to tease him. “Lan Zhan, oh my god. You make me feel so dainty.” 

Lan Zhan gives him A Look, which sends Wei Ying into a fit of giggles. 

“How—ah, yeah—how much do you lift anyway?” It’s difficult to speak with Lan Zhan nailing Wei Ying’s prostate every time he lowers him, but Wei Ying has never let this stop him before. “We should, unggh, work out together some time.”

“We’re working out now.”

“Haha— fuck!” Wei Ying nearly loses his grip on Lan Zhan’s shoulders, but Lan Zhan doesn’t seem to need any help. “I’m not doing any of the work, though.”

“Mn. A fair point.” Lan Zhan squeezes Wei Ying’s ass harder. “I can show you my gym once we are finished.”

“You have a gym?!” Wei Ying squawks. “How big is this house?”

Lan Zhan licks a long line up the side of Wei Ying’s neck, biting him right beneath the jaw. “It’s nothing fancy. Just free weights and a few machines.”

“Mmm, I’ll be the judge of whether it’s fancy.” 

Wei Ying buries a hand in the hair at the nape of Lan Zhan’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His heart is in overdrive, racing a mile a minute. When he pulls back to look at Lan Zhan and sees him, flawlessly beautiful and strong as a brick shithouse and so goddamn sexy it should be illegal, Wei Ying has no choice. 

It’s time to give up.

He finally caves, no longer even trying to pretend he’s not in love. 

He is so fucked. 

Lan Zhan’s eyes flutter open, warm honey that melts Wei Ying’s insides. 

So fucked. 

Caught in Lan Zhan’s gaze and feeling suddenly winded, Wei Ying’s heart is so full that he can’t stop grinning. God, Lan Zhan is just so… He’s…

He’s perfect. Everything Wei Ying didn’t realize he needed. They’ve been hooking up for months without any sign of stopping, but it unexpectedly occurs to Wei Ying that Lan Zhan deserves so much more than a casual fling. What will become of Wei Ying when Lan Zhan finds someone to settle down with? They’re both in their thirties, so the fact that Lan Zhan is still available is nothing short of a miracle. Wei Ying thinks of him meeting The One and immediately feels a keen stab of jealousy over a person that doesn’t even exist. Or at least. Doesn’t exist yet. 

Lan Zhan stops, holding Wei Ying by the hips with a frown. “What’s the matter?”

“Huh? Oh!” Wei Ying puts on a fake smile. Now he’s holding back actual tears, and Lan Zhan is going to see far more than Wei Ying ever intended to share. “Nothing, nothing! Let’s keep going.”

Squeezing Lan Zhan’s waist with his thighs, Wei Ying uses his grip to lift himself up, then relaxes to bring himself down. Lan Zhan’s grip tightens. He begins to fuck Wei Ying with short, quick snaps of his hips, and Wei Ying clings to him like vine to a tree, helpless to do anything other than hang on, hang tight, and try to hang up these feelings threatening to spill out of his mouth. 

Lan Zhan’s gaze is intense. Does he know? He can’t know…right? If he does know…wouldn’t he have said something by now? At this point, Wei Ying thinks he understands Lan Zhan pretty well, and Lan Zhan doesn’t seem like the type to lead on a guy who is obviously pining. He should have let Wei Ying down easy by now. 

Wei Ying averts his eyes, suddenly embarrassed to look at him head on. 

“Eyes on me.”

A shudder ripples through Wei Ying’s body. He lifts his face toward Lan Zhan’s, and his heart feels like fragile glass when he sees Lan Zhan’s tiny grin. Barely more than a twitch of his upper lip, it fills Wei Ying with so much pathetic longing that he wants to cry. He is so, so, incredibly, undeniably…

Fucked.

“Are you getting close?” Lan Zhan asks, his voice low and husky.

Wei Ying is close, but he isn’t going to admit defeat just yet. “W…why? Are you getting winded?”

Lan Zhan exhales through his nose.

Wei Ying delightedly crows, “Ha! I made you laugh!”

It earns him an especially deep thrust, and he yelps.

Lan Zhan captures his lips, kissing him sweetly. He’s still smiling when he pulls away, and Wei Ying wants to engrave the image onto his heart. “You always make me laugh.” 

A tingling wave of pleasure has coalesced in Wei Ying’s lower belly, radiating outward like the rays of a star. His nails dig into Lan Zhan’s shoulder blades, trying to find a way to anchor himself. He needs to get a fucking grip.

Lan Zhan can probably see every emotion playing out on his face, but Wei Ying can’t find the will to care as he crests higher and higher. He comes untouched, his body shivering in Lan Zhan’s arms, and is barely coherent enough to realize that Lan Zhan is coming, too. Even with Lan Zhan bent slightly at the waist, Wei Ying bears no risk of being dropped. Somehow, Lan Zhan has become a constant, steady presence in Wei Ying’s life. Wei Ying doesn’t want to let him go.

They exchange a few lazy kisses while Lan Zhan carefully lays Wei Ying back on the bed. He brushes their lips together one more time before standing to fetch the wet wipes, and Wei Ying is once again struck with a horrible, gut-churning sense of foreboding. He turns the evidence over in his head again. 

It seems unlikely that Lan Zhan is aware that anything is amiss. He’s given no indication of being…weirded out. He hasn’t…

Wei Ying sighs. Of course Lan Zhan hasn’t shown any signs of being…likewise interested in pursuing something more than their current arrangement. Rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm, Wei Ying tries to push the stupid, stupid thoughts out of his stupid, stupid head.

Has he mentioned that he is so fucked?!

“Wei Ying.”

The mattress dips under Lan Zhan’s weight, and Wei Ying has no choice but to pull his hand away from his face to look at him. He attempts a nonchalant grin, but it’s clear from Lan Zhan’s expression that he’s fooling no one. He can’t decide whether it would be worse for Lan Zhan to know or not know that he’s disgustingly in love.

Lan Zhan’s touch is devastatingly gentle as he helps Wei Ying clean up, and Wei Ying’s stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies or wasps or something worse. How can anyone be so good? Under normal circumstances, Wei Ying would usually be chattering up a storm by now, but his tongue is in knots and the only thing that Wei Ying can think about is how badly his heart aches. Maybe he should just fess up. What’s the worst that could happen?

Lan Zhan could… Not “break up” with Wei Ying. They would have to be dating for him to do that. 

It would still hurt worse than any breakup Wei Ying has ever experienced.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan repeats. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! I…” Wei Ying hates lying, especially to Lan Zhan, so he must simply distort the truth a bit. “I don’t feel good.”

This is technically not a lie. Wei Ying feels awful. He feels even worse when Lan Zhan, whose eyes are full of concern, rests the back of his hand against Wei Ying’s forehead. 

“I’ll be fine.” Wei Ying’s voice is far from reassuring, weak and breathless. He clears his throat and tries again. “Seriously, Lan Zhan. But…maybe I should go home for the night.”

Lan Zhan looks like he is on the cusp of arguing, but he just nods slowly. “Do you need me to drive you? Is there anything I can—”

“No.” Wei Ying sits up and begins gathering his clothes. “It’s nothing too bad. I probably just need…some rest.” And space.

As always, Lan Zhan walks Wei Ying to the door, and Wei Ying, out of reflex, almost kisses him. A flash of hurt seems to pass through Lan Zhan’s gaze, so Wei Ying hurries to assure him, “I, uh, don’t wanna get you sick.”

He wishes Lan Zhan would stop looking at him like that, his eyes so warm and tender and caring. He wishes Lan Zhan wasn’t so strong and beautiful and good in every conceivable way. It would be much easier to walk away from him if he wasn’t so… Lan Zhan. 

Wei Ying won’t survive the day Lan Zhan no longer wants him…so the only thing he can do is wean himself off while he still has the chance.

Chapter Text

Today is Saturday, which means that it has been over a week since Lan Zhan saw Wei Ying last. When he went to bed alone last Saturday night, he assumed Wei Ying was still ill, but his phone has been suspiciously silent all week. Wei Ying will reply if Lan Zhan texts him first, but his responses are brief and perfunctory, friendly but not the usual chaos of emojis and button smashes Lan Zhan has become accustomed to receiving. Lan Zhan hadn’t realized just how much he enjoys opening up a ‘good morning!!!! 🌄🌞☕’ text followed by six more one-line messages with various half-asleep musings each morning. 

It’s nearly seven o’clock in the evening when Lan Zhan’s phone vibrates in his pocket. The speed with which he fishes it out of his pocket is absolutely pathetic, but he’s relieved to see that it is a text from Wei Ying. All the tension in Lan Zhan’s chest melts away all at once. 

Can I come over? 

Lan Zhan’s fingers fumble slightly as he types, Yes. 

He spends the next half hour looking for things to organize in his already perfectly clean house. He pauses in front of the hallway mirror, smoothing his hair and trying to arrange his face into something less panicked, and the sound of the doorbell almost makes him startle. He forces himself to wait a few seconds before answering it. 

Wei Ying is staring down at his feet when the door opens, and when he looks up, Lan Zhan’s anxiety spikes all over again. Dark circles underline Wei Ying’s eyes, his expression drawn. He looks as stressed as Lan Zhan feels, but he gives Lan Zhan a forced smile. Before Lan Zhan can form the question he wants to ask, Wei Ying is looping an arm around his neck, leaning in to kiss him gently.

Lan Zhan backpedals, pulling Wei Ying along with him. Once the door is shut, Wei Ying’s back is pressed against it, Lan Zhan’s body leaning heavily against his front. Rationally, Lan Zhan knows that he needs to put this on pause for now. Something is obviously upsetting Wei Ying.

But every time Lan Zhan attempts to break away, Wei Ying surges forward, holding him tighter and kissing him more deeply. If this is what Wei Ying wants from him, who is Lan Zhan to say no? The anxiety churning in his gut worsens, even as Wei Ying’s tongue curls sweetly around his. Even as Wei Ying grinds their groins together, his intentions more than obvious. 

When Lan Zhan manages to find a small break to catch his breath, he whispers, “Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying groans, his head thudding against the door. His fingers curl against the soft fabric of Lan Zhan’s t-shirt. “Lan Zhan. Fuck.”

“Something’s wrong,” Lan Zhan says, pointing out the excruciatingly obvious. “Did something happen?”

Lan Zhan knows that things between Wei Ying and his adoptive parents can be tense. It wouldn’t be the first time Wei Ying was still upset days later from some nasty remark Yu Ziyuan made. If Lan Zhan could have his way, that woman would suffer unimaginable horrors for her role in the few stories Wei Ying has shared with him—and he fears that there are much worse things Wei Ying has not disclosed.

Wei Ying’s eyes flutter closed. “Nothing wrong, just… It’s nothing to worry about.”

Pushing the bangs out of the way, Lan Zhan presses a kiss to Wei Ying’s forehead. Wei Ying shudders and opens his eyes, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Lan Zhan, can I ask you something?”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan’s thumbs have found their way beneath Wei Ying’s t-shirt, and he rubs small circles into his hipbones. 

Wei Ying sags, as if he’s bearing the weight of the world. Lan Zhan wishes he could take it all upon himself instead.

“Will we still be friends…if we stop, y’know…hooking up?”

“Of course,” Lan Zhan replies. The anxiety twists and grows, gnawing at his insides. “You’re one of my closest friends.”

Wei Ying is Lan Zhan’s only close friend, his brother notwithstanding.

“Okay, okay.” Wei Ying attempts a small smile, but there’s something pained in his expression. “That’s good to know. I just… I like you a lot, Lan Zhan. You’re so smart—and much funnier than you let on. I mean, like, in a bitchy way, but still…”

Before Lan Zhan can overthink this statement, Wei Ying is kissing him again, his lips firm and insistent against Lan Zhan’s. He pushes Lan Zhan back a step, then two. Then, he breaks away and captures Lan Zhan’s hand, tugging him toward the bedroom. Lan Zhan follows as if he’s on a tether. 

They make out against the door once it closes behind them, losing their clothes one piece at a time. Once they are naked, Lan Zhan grabs Wei Ying by the hips and steers him toward the bed. He lays him down slowly, slotting himself naturally between his legs and kissing his collarbones while running a hand along the dips and swells of his abdomen. Wei Ying’s body bends and twists to meet his touch, and he urges Lan Zhan to bring their mouths together once more. He tastes faintly of spice and the barest trace of alcohol. 

After a while of this, Lan Zhan rolls away slightly so that he can reach the lube in the bedside drawer. Wei Ying catches his wrist, but he doesn’t meet Lan Zhan’s gaze when he looks at him.

“You should probably use a condom.”

Lan Zhan stares dumbly, the comfortable bubble he’s been living in for weeks shattering. His chest is tight, and he can barely breathe around the overwhelming sense of betrayal. But it’s not a betrayal—he and Wei Ying never agreed to not see other people. Wei Ying has upheld his end of the deal, giving Lan Zhan notice that things have changed. That he needs to…

“I don’t have any condoms,” Lan Zhan says after a while. “When I ran out, we started… I never bought more.”

“Oh.” Wei Ying shifts uncomfortably. “Sorry. I guess I didn’t think—”

A surge of unwarranted possessiveness rears its ugly head, and Lan Zhan crashes their mouths together. They kiss until Wei Ying’s mouth goes slack. Then, Lan Zhan kisses his way down Wei Ying’s body. He tries not to think about someone else’s hands — someone else’s mouth — having free reign to touch and taste. 

After a while, Lan Zhan stops trying to convince himself that he isn’t seethingly jealous and angry. Reaching Wei Ying’s cock, he doesn’t hesitate, taking him all the way to the root and hollowing his cheeks. Wei Ying gasps and tries to pull Lan Zhan’s head away.

“Ah, Lan Zhan! You don’t have to… You shouldn’t—”

Lan Zhan draws his mouth away slowly. “Did you use protection?”

Wei Ying scoffs. “Of course! I’m not an idiot.”

“Mn.”

Pulling back the foreskin, Lan Zhan flicks his tongue across the head. He shouldn’t ask, but then again, he is always an idiot when it comes to Wei Ying. “Man or woman?”

“Huh?” Wei Ying blinks, his fingers tightening in Lan Zhan’s hair. “I don’t see why that matters.”

“It doesn’t. Forget it.” 

Lan Zhan takes Wei Ying’s cock back in his mouth, assuming he’ll receive no answers, but Wei Ying inhales sharply and says, “Man. He…he…fucked me.”

Closing his eyes to hold back the gathering tears, Lan Zhan swallows more of the shaft, sucking for all he’s worth. He doesn’t want to hear anything more. 

But, of course, he has no such luck.

“He wasn’t….as good,” Wei Ying continues in a soft, strained voice. “Not like you. It was. Fine. But not… Mmph! Fuck!” 

Lan Zhan pulls out every trick in the book, and soon, Wei Ying’s fingers clench, yanking Lan Zhan’s hair at the roots. He spills down Lan Zhan’s throat with a keening whine, his hips lifting with each twitch of his dick. Lan Zhan wants to suck him dry. 

But he pulls away when Wei Ying begins to show signs of oversensitivity. Wei Ying doesn’t move for a long time, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. After a moment or two, he runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. Then, he sits up and reaches for Lan Zhan’s hand, and Lan Zhan feels like he is standing on a sheet of paper thin ice; one wrong move and the ground will shatter beneath him. 

Looking down at their joined hands, Wei Ying squeezes lightly before slowly lifting his gaze to meet Lan Zhan’s. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

No amount of bracing could have prepared Lan Zhan for the inevitable. He tries to blink away the stinging in his eyes, swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. 

“We just…” Wei Ying lets out a shaky breath, breaking eye contact. “I think we want different things from each other, and I can’t… I can’t give you what you need from me. I’m sorry.”

Lan Zhan wants to plead his case, but what can he possibly say? Wei Ying has said everything that needs to be said, loud and clear. No ambiguity. He understands that Lan Zhan wants him too much, and he is drawing the line.

“I…see.” 

He somehow manages to keep his composure as they dress in silence, and he allows Wei Ying as much space as possible as he walks him to the door. Muscle memory attempts to assert itself, but Lan Zhan stands back, knowing that he’ll never get to kiss Wei Ying again. Wei Ying spares Lan Zhan one last, pitying half-smile before pushing open the screen door and exiting Lan Zhan’s life.

Numbly closing the door behind him, Lan Zhan watches through the window as Wei Ying gets into his car. It’s difficult to see him from this angle, but the car doesn’t move for a long time. A few minutes pass before the engine finally starts. Then, Wei Ying backs out of Lan Zhan’s driveway and…

He’s gone.

Walking in a daze to sit on the edge of the couch, Lan Zhan attempts to console himself with Wei Ying’s earlier implication that he would like to remain friends—but now that Wei Ying knows Lan Zhan is in too deep, there is a strong likelihood that things will be too awkward to return to the easy companionship they had before. Hell, Lan Zhan wouldn’t be surprised if Wei Ying never wants to be alone in a room with him ever again. Something wet splashes off Lan Zhan’s tightly clenched fists. He lifts a hand to his face to wipe at his leaking eyes, but there’s no stopping the tears once they’ve begun to fall. Collapsing onto his side, Lan Zhan lets the hurt wash over him in rolling waves until he falls asleep.

Chapter Text

“Are we doing this, or are you just gonna stand over there all night?” 

Wei Ying doesn’t even try to keep the annoyance out of his voice. After all, his plans for the evening involved eating an entire pint of spicy cinnamon ice cream while listening to songs about dying alone because some people just aren’t meant to have love and happiness—but then Huaisang came over, forced him to shower and get dressed, and insisted that they go out to do something “fun.” And “fun” apparently means hanging out in an Escape from Prison room. Hanging out and not actually breaking out, because Huaisang refused to let the staff members shut the door behind them.

Huaisang rolls his eyes, typing away on his phone. “I have another friend coming.”

“Another…?! Nie Huaisang! You invited other people?!” Wei Ying considers dunking his head in the jail cell’s toilet to drown himself, but. Gross. Also, he’s pretty sure there’s no water in it, since it’s just for aesthetics. 

Tearing his gaze away from his phone to give Wei Ying A Look, Huaisang puts it in his pocket. “They’ll be here in a minute.”

“Then, will you come over here instead of lurking by the exit? You’re making me…”

Wei Ying trails off, hearing footsteps in the hallway. Since he is in the corner of the room adjacent to the door, he can’t see who it is until they’ve fully entered. He inhales sharply. 

“Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan’s head snaps to the side at the sound of his name. Someone who isn’t as well-versed in Lan Zhan might not notice the distress in his expression, but Wei Ying has spent way too much time studying his features to miss the way his eyes widen slightly in panic. “Wei Ying?”

Sneaky sneak Nie Huaisang moves just slowly enough that Wei Ying doesn’t notice until he’s on the other side of the doorjamb. He slams the door, holding onto it as he yells through the bars, “Wei-xiong, I just remembered that I have a thing. You two have fun!”

“Xiong-zhang!” Lan Zhan turns to the door with shocked betrayal in his eyes. “Let me out.”

Wei Ying can’t see him, but he hears Lan Huan’s voice, diplomatic as ever. “I’m sorry, didi, but you really left me no choice.”

With that, the two leave. Wei Ying listens to the sound of their footsteps as they retreat, leaving him alone with the man who shattered his heart. Not that Lan Zhan can be blamed. Wei Ying is the one who went and fell in love like an idiot.

He sighs. “So…do you want to hit the panic button, or should we figure out the puzzle? It does seem like a fun game…”

Lan Zhan looks back towards the door. “I…am not opposed to doing the puzzle.”

“Okay!” Wei Ying feels himself smiling for the first time in at least two weeks. God, he’s tired. “I guess we should look for clues.”

Lan Zhan nods, his eyes scanning the room. Cool. This is…cool. Wei Ying can be cool. 

“I’ll bet there’s a clue under the mattresses!” 

“Mn.” Lan Zhan follows Wei Ying over to the bunk beds attached to the far wall, lifting the top bed’s thin, lumpy mattress so that Wei Ying can see underneath. 

There’s nothing there.

“Huh.” Wei Ying is kind of shocked that his instincts were wrong. “Maybe under the bottom?”

Lan Zhan bends, grabbing onto the mattress on the bottom bunk and raising it. Again, there’s nothing.

“Dang it!” Wei Ying lifts his head quickly and, not realizing how close they are, accidentally bumps it into Lan Zhan’s head. “Ow! Sorry, sorry, sorry! Fuck, I’m stupid—”

“Wei Ying.”

“Yeah?” Rubbing the top of his head, Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan. From this close… “Oh.”

Lan Zhan looks as exhausted as Wei Ying feels, purplish bags underlining his eyes. His face looks as white as if he had seen a ghost.

He must feel guilty. 

Wei Ying’s stomach does a somersault. They had agreed to remain friends after they stopped hooking up, and Wei Ying has not responded to the one single text Lan Zhan sent, about a week ago. Guilt and shame flood him.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Lan Zhan. I’ve been a crappy friend.”

“No.” Lan Zhan’s eyes burn with intensity, his gaze making Wei Ying’s heart speed up. “You are a good friend.”

“Am I, though?” Running a hand through his hair, Wei Ying lets out a jittery laugh. “I asked if we could still be friends, and I—”

“Wei Ying.” Crouching onto his knees, Lan Zhan looks down at where Wei Ying’s hand rests on the mattress. He seems to deliberate for a moment before gently laying his own hand on top of it, and oh, how Wei Ying missed the touch of the calloused fingers now stroking along his knuckles. “You did nothing wrong. I was the one who…made things awkward.”

“You?!” Wei Ying’s vision blurs. “I’m the one who couldn’t be content with what we had. And, Lan Zhan… I’ll be honest. I don’t think I’ll get over it any time soon. But I loved spending time together! Hanging out, watching crappy movies, everything. I want…to be able to do all those things again someday, when you’re not as weirded out by… Y’know. Me being hung up on you.”

“Hung up…” When Wei Ying musters up the courage to look at Lan Zhan’s face, Lan Zhan is staring at him as if he has grown a second head. “Wei… Wei Ying.”

“I’ll be better!” Wei Ying swears. “You don’t even…have to worry about me! I promise I’ll—”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s fingers curl around Wei Ying’s, squeezing him tightly, to the point that it almost hurts. “You… You said…” 

“Yeah?” 

“You said that we…wanted different things from each other. And you couldn’t give me what I need from you.”

“R-right…” Wei Ying really doesn’t want to rehash everything that was said two weeks ago.

It takes a long time for Lan Zhan to speak again. “Wei Ying… What do you think I want from you?”

Cold tears drip onto Wei Ying’s cheeks. “Are you…really gonna make me say it?”

Lan Zhan’s fingers twitch. “Please.”

“You… You wanted to keep things, y’know, casual. No strings attached. And I want… I want… Strings. Tie.” Wei Ying gesticulates with his hands, unable to articulate himself properly. “I want to be together. For more than just sex. And I couldn’t keep pretending.”

“Then, don’t pretend.”

Before Wei Ying can even begin to wrap his head around that statement, Lan Zhan has seized him by the shirt and is kissing him with a desperation that almost surpasses Wei Ying’s. His other hand settles on the side of Wei Ying’s face, pulling him closer, cradling him like he’s something…precious.

Wei Ying shudders, throwing his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Both crying, they gravitate around each other slowly but forcefully, and Wei Ying finds himself half-reclining on the bed. Lan Zhan crawls onto him, their bodies melding into one, and—

“SIRS!”

They startle violently, and this time, Lan Zhan is the one to slam his head into the metal frame of the top bunk. 

The intercom continues crackling. “WE CAN SEE YOU.”

“Sorry!” Wei Ying squeezes Lan Zhan once more before attempting to sit up. 

Lan Zhan doesn’t move. Pushing at his chest half-heartedly, Wei Ying is overcome with so much affection that he can’t help but lean in to kiss him again. One kiss turns into two, then three, and then Lan Zhan is sucking Wei Ying’s bottom lip into his mouth and—

“PLEASE!” the young voice over the intercom pleads. “I’M ONLY PAID MINIMUM WAGE.” 

“Okay, okay!” Wei Ying laughs, wiping his eyes, and this time when he pushes, Lan Zhan moves, sliding off the bunk. Wei Ying is about to follow him, when something at the corner of his eye catches his attention. “Lan Zhan, look!”

The bunk bed frame is metal, with wide bars supporting the upper bunk. Carved into one of the bars is a number, 33, positioned so that one can see it if they are lying down. “It’s our first clue!” Wei Ying shouts with glee. “Alright, let’s figure this out quick.”

The next place he checks is the toilet which, as he expected, does not have any water. He takes the lid off the tank and holds down the handle to flush, which raises the flapper. On the underside, another number is written: 31. 

Lan Zhan is the one to find the next clue, rifling through the waste basket next to the small metal desk in the corner. He finds a crumpled up piece of paper that has the word “BAT” written in all-caps, and a fake apple with a bite taken out of it. The number 13 is written in permanent marker on the bottom of the apple. 

Wei Ying taps his chin. “Okay, so we have some clues. But…”

He trails off as he studies the gray brick wall in front of him. One brick in the bottom corner catches his eyes because it is a lighter shade that those surrounding it. Crouching down to get a good look at it, Wei Ying wriggles it out of the wall with ease. As it turns out, this “brick” is made of hollow plastic, and tucked inside is a small box with a combination lock. 

“The numbers…” He spins the dial around lazily a few times. “What order do they go in?”

“‘Bat,’” Lan Zhan suggests. “Bed, apple, toilet?”

Wei Ying beams up at him. “Er-gege! You’re so smart!” 

He tries out this sequence of numbers and is unsurprised that it works on the first try. The box pops open, revealing a key. It must match the lock on the door that leads out. Springing to his feet, Wei Ying follows Lan Zhan to the door, ready to get out of here and possibly never speak to Huaisang ever again. How dare he trap Wei Ying in a room, as if he is incapable of sorting out his own problems?

Before they insert the key that will lead to their freedom, Wei Ying turns to look at Lan Zhan with a serious expression. “Before we leave, I think I should…clarify some things.”

Lan Zhan is still as a statue and twice as beautiful. He patiently waits for him to continue.

“I want…” Wei Ying hesitates, forcing himself to look Lan Zhan in the eye. “I’d like it if we went out. Like, on a real date. I love hanging out at yours or at my place, but…could we get dinner? See a movie? Go roller skating or bowling or to one of those cheesy wine and paint nights? Just something…public?”

Lips curving slightly, Lan Zhan’s expression is warm and unguarded, and it makes Wei Ying’s insides fizz with how much he loves him. “Mn. I would enjoy that as well.”

“Alright!” Wei Ying tilts his face up to steal one more quick kiss, pulling away before he can further traumatize the poor minimum wage teenager monitoring the room. “Tomorrow, then. We’ll go on our first date. As for tonight…”

He leans in suggestively but pulls back when Lan Zhan attempts to reclaim his lips. “Take me home, er-gege. Let me show you what a good boyfriend I could be if you’ll let me.”

“You are already the best boyfriend,” Lan Zhan says, as if it’s okay to just completely upend Wei Ying’s equilibrium like that.

Blushing profusely, Wei Ying misses on his first attempt to shove the key into the lock. “Lan Zhan! You need to warn a guy before you go and be all—all— romantic! Oh, and by the way, I rode with Huaisang….”

“My brother probably caught a ride from him,” Lan Zhan says flatly. It seems that Lan Huan has also  not quite been forgiven yet.

The latch clicks as he turns the key clockwise. Then, they’re free. 

~.~.~

They don’t even make it into Lan Zhan’s house before they attack each other like wild beasts. Wei Ying’s shirt is left somewhere in the car, and Lan Zhan’s belt doesn’t make it out of the garage. Stumbling into the house, Lan Zhan pins Wei Ying to the wall in the hallway, knocking several things off the wall in the process. A bit further down the hall, Lan Zhan drops to his knees and takes Wei Ying’s cock into his mouth without preamble or teasing. Wei Ying is dangerously close to the edge already, and it takes several attempts at yanking on Lan Zhan’s hair to get him to stop. 

When they finally make it to the bedroom, Lan Zhan shoves Wei Ying onto the bed. Wei Ying feels inclined to complain at his mouth being forcefully ripped from Lan Zhan’s, but all is forgiven when Lan Zhan falls on top of him. He kisses his way from Wei Ying’s lips down to his thighs, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps (and bites) along the way. Chanting fuck, fuck, fuck under his breath, Wei Ying waits for his dick to be enveloped by Lan Zhan’s mouth again, but instead, Lan Zhan’s hands grip the underside of Wei Ying’s thighs, pushing them up and outward. His tongue circles Wei Ying’s hole, firm and insistent. 

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying breathes. “You’re… Oh my god…”

Lan Zhan pauses to bite an asscheek, and Wei Ying yelps. “Hey! That’s no fair!”

He can feel Lan Zhan huff a breath against his sensitive skin. Lan Zhan laps at his entrance for a long time before licking over Wei Ying’s taint, upward, rolling his tongue around Wei Ying’s balls.

Intense is Lan Zhan’s normal state when taking Wei Ying apart, but it’s different this time. For all his roughness, his mouth and hands are reverent, worshipping Wei Ying as if this bed is an altar. How is Wei Ying supposed to handle this man? 

His boyfriend.

Just thinking the word makes Wei Ying feel giddy. He likes Lan Zhan so much. He loves him. 

Of course, Wei Ying should probably refrain from telling Lan Zhan that he has been absolutely gone for him for an embarrassingly long time. What if Lan Zhan isn’t ready to go all in just yet? No, this will have to be enough for now. Soon, Wei Ying will shout his love from the rooftops, write a ballad, tattoo Lan Zhan’s name across his chest. 

All in due time. 

Lan Zhan pulls away just enough to incline his head toward the nightstand. Wei Ying is closer, and he only has to stretch out a little bit to reach into the drawer and get the lube. Their hands brush as he passes it over. 

Squirting it onto his fingers, Lan Zhan continues to pin one of Wei Ying’s thighs to his side as he begins working him open one digit at a time. He shows more patience with this than all that has come before, but Wei Ying doesn’t want to be handled gently. He wants to feel it. 

“I’m ready,” he says as Lan Zhan works a second finger into him.

“Are you sure?” Lan Zhan scissors his fingers, stretching him.

Wei Ying nods. “Yeah, c’mon. You know I can take a lot.”

“You can.” Lan Zhan sits up but doesn’t let Wei Ying put his legs down. He presses them toward Wei Ying’s shoulders, making a V, and grabbing an extra pillow, he shoves it under Wei Ying’s hips. Wei Ying feels a deep, burning stretch in his glutes and hamstrings, just on the edge of too much, but a bit of pain is what he craves. “You can take anything I give you.”

Slicking his cock, he taps it three times, right over Wei Ying’s hole. Holding onto his calves, Wei Ying tries to shimmy his hips, but Lan Zhan keeps him pinned in place with his other hand. “Patience.”

“C’mon, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines. “It’s been two weeks. Don’t you wanna be inside me?”

“Greedy,” Lan Zhan chides. There’s no insult to it, just a simple observation.

“Only when it comes to you.” Wei Ying tries again to tilt his hips in the right direction to get Lan Zhan to enter him. This time, Lan Zhan allows him to move, and the head of his cock catches on Wei Ying’s rim. “God, Lan Zhan. Please. I need it. I need you. I want—”

Lan Zhan pushes in abruptly, punching the air from Wei Ying’s lungs.

“Oh. Y-yeah! Lan Zhan…ugh…right there.”

The two weeks of no Lan Zhan have been torturous, and Wei Ying feels a sense of completion now that they’re together. Lan Zhan seems to feel it as well. He doesn’t start slow, instead fucking Wei Ying with quick, savage strokes that make the headboard clatter against the wall. 

“Wei Ying,” he breathes. “I missed you.”

Wei Ying’s heart seems to tear like tissue paper. “I missed you, too.”

“I want you to…”

“Anything,” Wei Ying promises. “Anything you want, Lan Zhan. Anything.”

“Touch yourself.”

Wei Ying’s cock is leaking, and it pulses in his hand as his fingers close around it. It’s almost overwhelming to squeeze it while Lan Zhan is nailing his prostate with deadly precision, but Wei Ying grits his teeth and pumps himself with short, frantic strokes. Lan Zhan must be getting close, too. His head is hung, long hair obscuring his face, and he’s breathing hard, as if he’s run a great distance. He lifts his head to look Wei Ying in the eye, and then, his whole body shudders. Rhythm faltering, his eyes take on a note of pleading as he lets go. 

Jerking himself off faster, Wei Ying lets himself free fall alongside Lan Zhan. He comes hard enough to paint his chest, and Lan Zhan leans forward to clean it off with his tongue. Fuck. 

When Wei Ying can breathe again, he says, “Wow. Shit. Lan Zhan, I—”

He cuts himself off abruptly before he can tell Lan Zhan that he loves him or something equally too much. 

Lan Zhan eases out of him and pulls the pillow out from under his lower back. “Wei Ying?”

“I was just thinking about where we should go for our first date. Hmm… I have a few ideas. Would it be okay if I surprise you?”

“Mn.” His warm gaze makes Wei Ying’s heart swell, an impossible amount of fondness threatening to suffocate him. 

“Alright, just leave it to me, Lan Zhan! I hope you’re ready to be so romanced it knocks your socks off!”

“I will wear socks I don’t mind being romanced out of.” 

“Ha!” Lan Zhan is so much funnier than anyone gives him credit for. Wei Ying adores him. 

Lan Zhan leans forward to give Wei Ying a few lazy, unrushed kisses before rolling over to retrieve the wet wipes. As Lan Zhan helps him clean up, Wei Ying’s mind is already reeling with possibilities. It’s after nine o’clock, and the fact that Lan Zhan manages to drag his sleepy self through his entire skincare regimen is a testament to his willpower. He slips back into bed as Wei Ying is reading the description of what promises to be a crappy medical drama. Even with no medical training, Wei Ying is sure he will be able to sniff out the bullshit. He can’t wait to unleash the “knowledge” he gains from the show on Wen Qing. 

“What’s funny?” Lan Zhan asks, his voice deep and sleepy.

“Just thinking of ways to annoy Wen Qing. Oh! I need to text her. And Huaisang. Ugh, I’m gonna ask da-ge to break Huaisang’s legs for real this time…”

“I doubt that anyone expects to hear from us tonight,” Lan Zhan points out. He reaches for Wei Ying, pulling him down for a kiss.

Wei Ying wriggles until he is lying flush against Lan Zhan. They kiss slowly with no intention of it growing into anything more, and Wei Ying feels like he is a bubble poised to pop with how much he really, really, really adores Lan Zhan. Fuck. His boyfriend (!).

Lan Zhan is clearly nodding off, his nose bumping into Wei Ying’s several times. Wei Ying giggles. “Lan Zhan, go to sleep. Your boyfriend will still be here when you wake up.”

“Mn.” The corners of Lan Zhan’s lips twitch upward. “My boyfriend. My Wei Ying. My…”

He’s interrupted by a yawn. Wei Ying coaxes him onto his back and kisses his cheek. “Night, night, Lan Zhan.”

“Night…Wei… Wei Yin…”

Knocking out in an instant, he breathes slow and deep. Wei Ying finds it soothing, and he spends a long time tracing Lan Zhan’s profile with his gaze. How someone so beautiful and smart and kind and funny as Lan Zhan has settled for a mess like Wei Ying is…really something. Not that Wei Ying is complaining.

When he’s sure that the movement won’t wake Lan Zhan, Wei Ying hits play on the medical drama, turning the subtitles on so that he can keep the sound all the way off. Every few seconds, he stops to look over at his boyfriend (!!!), snoozing peacefully beside him. Eventually, he stops pretending to pay attention to the show at all. He wishes he had his sketchbook with him.

How did he manage to get so lucky?

~.~.~

Wei Ying is sprawled across Lan Zhan’s chest when he wakes up. For the first time in weeks, Lan Zhan finally feels well-rested, but he doesn’t want to give up the moment quite yet. He buries his nose in Wei Ying’s hair and breathes him in, letting it sink in that last night’s events really happened. 

Wei Ying is his boyfriend (!!!!!), and Lan Zhan is so happy that it feels illegal. Surely there’s a limit to how much joy one is allowed to have in one lifetime. If so, Lan Zhan has hurtled past it—and they’ve only just begun.

There are still a few things about which Lan Zhan will have to tread carefully. Wei Ying has decided, at some point within the last few months, that he enjoys Lan Zhan’s company enough to date him. He doesn’t know that Lan Zhan has been in love with him since they were fifteen-year-old brats, and he can’t possibly know that Lan Zhan wants to spend every day with him for the rest of their lives. 

Lan Zhan will have to wait until when, and if, things become more serious for Wei Ying. 

But it’s fine. Lan Zhan has waited for almost twenty years, so he can be patient a while longer. And if Wei Ying decides that forever isn’t what he wants…that will be fine, too. Lan Zhan just hopes that he can continue being a part of Wei Ying’s life in some capacity. 

Rolling onto his side, Lan Zhan feels a bit guilty for the way that it makes Wei Ying grumble in complaint. To apologize, he pushes the bangs away from Wei Ying’s forehead and presses a kiss to his temple. Wei Ying burrows into Lan Zhan’s bare chest, which he pauses, even in sleep, to fondle. 

Lan Zhan coaxes Wei Ying onto his back and positions himself under the covers, taking Wei Ying’s morning erection into his mouth and pleasuring him until he comes down Lan Zhan’s throat. When Lan Zhan resurfaces, Wei Ying is blinking up at him sleepily. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Lan Zhan drops a quick peck onto his lips. 

“Go back to sleep now, Wei Ying.”

“M’kay…” He’s already snoring again.

~.~.~

Wei Ying comes stumbling into the living room at around ten, his hair matted on one side and sticking out on the other. “Mornin’.”

Guiding him into the kitchen, Lan Zhan gently plies him with coffee and congee until Wei Ying is able to speak in full sentences. After he downs the last of his coffee, Wei Ying slams the cup down and announces, “I hope you’re ready for our first date!”

Lan Zhan nods, holding back a grin. He was born ready to be on a date in public with Wei Ying. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!” Wei Ying cheerfully replies. “C’mon. Let’s get ready to go.”

The process of getting ready to leave is slowed down significantly by a round of morning sex, much to Lan Zhan’s pleasure. Wei Ying has to sit on the edge of the bed for a while, waiting for his legs to stop shaking (and Lan Zhan is only a teensy bit smug about this). “You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” he says, pretending to be upset. 

He insists that Lan Zhan keep his eyes closed in the car, although Lan Zhan was able to get him to agree not to blindfold him. They drive for about fifteen minutes before the car comes to a stop and Wei Ying tells Lan Zhan to open his eyes. They’ve arrived at…

“The mall?” Lan Zhan asks, not quite able to cover up his doubts. 

“Yeah, the mall!” Wei Ying is already scrambling out, so Lan Zhan follows his lead. “There’s so much fun stuff to do. Ah, Lan Zhan! You’re gonna have so much fun.” 

There is no doubt in Lan Zhan’s mind that he will enjoy every second spent in Wei Ying’s company. The mall is as suitable a backdrop as any, he supposes.  The first place Wei Ying drags him into is the arcade, which is full of loud children but enjoyable nevertheless. They play air hockey for so long without either of them winning that the machine simply shuts off, and Wei Ying convinces Lan Zhan to try Guitar Hero. It’s surprisingly fun once Lan Zhan understands the timing. Then, Wei Ying runs over to the claw machine, winning on the first try a stuffed rabbit that he immediately hands over to Lan Zhan.

“Bunny for my bunny?” he says with a cheesy wink.

Lan Zhan’s face burns, but he manages to keep his composure. He holds the rabbit to his chest, already a prized possession, and follows Wei Ying out of the arcade, back into the atrium, where they walk hand in hand, passing a few shops and kiosks. Suddenly, Wei Ying gasps.

“Lan Zhan!” he cries, pointing to a photo booth. “We have to get our picture taken!”

Gripping Lan Zhan’s hand tighter, Wei Ying tugs him over to the booth, lifting the curtain for Lan Zhan to enter first. It’s a tight squeeze for two grown men, but Lan Zhan does not mind in the slightest because it means Wei Ying wrapping his arm around Lan Zhan’s waist as he follows the prompts and pays for a reel of five photos. 

“Smile!” Wei Ying says as the countdown for the first photo begins.

Lan Zhan can’t stop smiling—although most people probably wouldn’t call the very slight curve of his lips a smile. 

“Now we need to do a silly one!” Wei Ying insists. He sticks his tongue out. 

Unable to think of anything to do that is ‘silly,’ Lan Zhan’s face is blank when the next picture flashes. He looks over at Wei Ying just as Wei Ying turns his head. Time seems to freeze around them, and they startle slightly when the next photo is snapped. Laughing, Wei Ying leans in to give Lan Zhan a sweet, lingering kiss…and Lan Zhan kind of…loses track of how many photos have been snapped.

Wei Ying snatches the reel of photos from the printer as soon as it is spit out. “Oh! These turned out so nice!”

Lan Zhan peers over his shoulder and, yes, the photos look great. His eyes scan downward, seeing Wei Ying smiling, silly, looking at Lan Zhan with a soft, fond expression. Kissing Lan Zhan. 

He snatches the photos from Wei Ying, determined to keep them.

“Hey!” Wei Ying protests. “At least let me take a picture with my phone!”

Feeling gracious, Lan Zhan allows Wei Ying to snap half a dozen photos on his phone, all while making small comments like, “Aiyah, you’re so pretty, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan is sure he is blushing furiously as he reclaims the strip of photos. 

They wander into a less busy section of the mall, and before Lan Zhan can object, he is being dragged into…a bathroom?

A family bathroom.

Wei Ying peeks his head out the door and looks around before closing and locking it. “Is this alright? I know a mall bathroom isn’t exactly…romantic. But I kept getting turned on by your come leaking out of me, and now I’m holding you accountable!”

Lan Zhan would fuck Wei Ying in a truck stop bathroom. 

He places the stuffed bunny on top of the diaper changing station and pulls Wei Ying in for a messy, bruising kiss. Biting Wei Ying’s lip one final time, Lan Zhan spins him around quickly, and Wei Ying catches himself with one hand, the other fumbling to get his pants unbuttoned. Lan Zhan opens his own fly, taking out his cock as Wei Ying pushes his pants down. Twisted so that he can fix his gaze on Lan Zhan, Wei Ying brings his hand around to spread his cheeks, his middle finger catching some of the come oozing from his hole. 

Lan Zhan wastes no time slicking his cock with spit and positioning himself at Wei Ying’s entrance, sinking into him in one slow, smooth glide. Wei Ying pushes back against him, and his ass jiggles when it meets Lan Zhan’s hips. He lets out a loud moan—too loud, given how much trouble they could get into if caught.

So, Lan Zhan brings three fingers up to Wei Ying’s mouth, which he dutifully opens. The wet, suckling heat makes Lan Zhan curse, and Wei Ying’s tongue slides between the digits lewdly. He still moans around Lan Zhan’s hand, but it’s much quieter than before. 

“Good,” Lan Zhan murmurs, leaning in close to Wei Ying’s ear. “You’re so good for me A-Ying.”

Wei Ying squirms under the praise, but Lan Zhan continues. “Beautiful. So pretty with your mouth and ass both stuffed full.”

Wei Ying whines, shivering. Lan Zhan only has to coo a few more carefully chosen words into his ear before Wei Ying comes undone, his muffled moans growing louder as his muscles clamp down on Lan Zhan’s cock. Pinning him to the door, Lan Zhan finishes quickly, and they spend a long moment pressed back-to-chest, their breaths syncing up as their heart rates slow.

“We should probably get out of here,” Wei Ying says after a while.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan kisses the shell of Wei Ying’s ear once before stepping away. 

As they put themselves back together, Wei Ying tells stories of going to the mall with the Jiangs when he was younger. “One time,” he says with a laugh, “Auntie Yu made me wait out in the car for hours because I bragged about getting a higher score on a math test than Jiang Cheng.”

Lan Zhan doesn’t laugh.

“What’s that look for? It’s funny now. And to be fair, I was being a jerk about it. Plus, I was old enough to see how mad it made Auntie Yu whenever I was better than Jiang Cheng at anything… Huh.”

His smile fades, just for a second, then brightens once more. Before Lan Zhan can parse all his negative feelings toward Wei Ying’s adoptive aunt, Wei Ying is poking his head out the door, looking both ways before casually strolling out. Lan Zhan waits a few seconds before grabbing the stuffed rabbit and following him. Once they are in the clear, Wei Ying reaches for Lan Zhan’s hand, and…

Lan Zhan squeezes tightly. Wei Ying’s hand fits perfectly with his, their fingers slotting together comfortably, and Lan Zhan wonders if his stomach will swoop every time he feels Wei Ying’s warm palm pressed against his own. It seems highly likely.

“I’m getting hungry,” Wei Ying says when they’ve explored most of the upper floor. “Wanna get mediocre overpriced food from the food court?”

“Mn. Let’s eat.”

As they begin making their way in that direction, Wei Ying releases Lan Zhan’s hand to wrap an arm around his waist. Lan Zhan places his arm around Wei Ying’s shoulders, slowing down despite the dirty looks they get from some teenagers who have to go around them. Everyone else can go to hell, Lan Zhan decides, because the only thing he cares about is the way Wei Ying is smiling at him right now.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” says Wei Ying, his voice pitched just for Lan Zhan’s ears. “Are you?”

Lan Zhan tightens his grip. “Yes. Very much so.”

Wei Ying pulls Lan Zhan over to an alcove where he can pause to throw his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck without blocking traffic. Folding his arms around Wei Ying’s waist, Lan Zhan’s world narrows down to just the two of them. Together.

It’s everything Lan Zhan has ever wanted.

Chapter Text

"You have to let me help," Wei Ying insists stubbornly, attempting to shoulder Lan Zhan out of the way of his own kitchen sink. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I made my boyfriend clean up all by himself?"

Turning away slightly to hide his surely blushing face, Lan Zhan tries to calm his racing heart. He'll never get used to being referred to as Wei Ying's boyfriend. Not in a million years.

"I will let you help," he acquiesces. "You may rinse."

Wei Ying looks like he wants to protest, but he takes his position at Lan Zhan's right side and accepts the freshly scrubbed dishes as Lan Zhan passes them over. He chatters about his day as he stacks the strainer, telling Lan Zhan about the latest drama at work and how he wants to try his hand at gardening someday, when he's able to get a house. It's too late in the summer to plant most things, but Lan Zhan makes a mental note to research what kind of plants grow in the autumn. If all else fails, he will begin planning for next spring.

When the last plate has been washed and the towel has been passed to Wei Ying to dry his hands, Lan Zhan leans his hip against the counter, arms crossed in front of his chest. Wei Ying is still babbling on about potatoes, and Lan Zhan absorbs each and every word like a sponge. After patting his hands dry, Wei Ying grabs onto Lan Zhan's arm with both hands and begins tugging him towards the living room. Lan Zhan doesn't immediately follow, which causes Wei Ying to pause mid-step.

"Lan Zhan?"

"Mn."

Blowing a piece of hair out of his face, Wei Ying takes a step closer. Lan Zhan's arms circle around his waist, pulling him in until their chests are pressed together, and Wei Ying stumbles slightly. He catches himself on Lan Zhan's shoulders.

"What's the matter?" he asks with a teasing lilt. "You don't wanna watch TV?"

"Mn." Lan Zhan shakes his head.

Tracing Lan Zhan's collarbones with his index finger, Wei Ying hums. "What ever else could you possibly want from me?"

Lan Zhan pivots, caging Wei Ying to the counter with his arms. Tilting his face up slightly, Wei Ying closes his eyes, waiting. When Lan Zhan doesn't immediately kiss him, he pouts.

"So mean!" he says petulantly, cracking one eye open.

Smothering a smile, Lan Zhan closes the final bit of distance between them. Wei Ying's lips are soft and pliant, and he readily opens for Lan Zhan's wandering tongue. It takes barely any time for him to begin grinding against Lan Zhan's thigh, and he whines when Lan Zhan takes a step back.

Lan Zhan doesn't stop, tugging him along toward the bedroom. They begin shedding clothes as soon as the door shuts behind them, and Lan Zhan takes his sweet time, savoring every inch of Wei Ying's skin as it's revealed. Since they started dating (Friday), he feels a bit less like he has to frantically gorge himself on Wei Ying while he has the chance—and more as if he is allowed to enjoy him slowly. Today is Tuesday, which means that Wei Ying likely won't be staying the night, but Lan Zhan still feels less anxious about when he will see him again, trusting that, even though they have not committed to anything long-term, Wei Ying will not simply vanish without warning.

They glide toward the bed, feet going through the steps of the dance with no hesitation or missteps. Lan Zhan takes a seat on the edge, steering Wei Ying to sit in his lap, but Wei Ying instead makes a show of draping himself across Lan Zhan in order to reach the drawer of the nightstand. When the lube is in his hand, he attempts to get up—only to be held in place by Lan Zhan's hand at the center of his back.

"Lan Zhan!" His voice carries a note of breathless excitement, although he makes a show of wriggling around and attempting to get free. "Let me get up!"

"Mn." Lan Zhan brings a hand up to idly caress the roundness of Wei Ying's ass, making Wei Ying draw in a sharp breath. "Is this alright?"

"Y-yeah…" Wei Ying sighs. His breathing is shaky, his muscles trembling as he lies sprawled out for Lan Zhan to examine.

Cupping the swell of his right cheek, Lan Zhan's grip tightens, and Wei Ying squirms. "You like this."

"I—" Whatever lie was about to come out of Wei Ying's mouth is cut off when Lan Zhan raises his hand and brings it down, gently. "Ah…haha, maybe we should—"

He tries to push himself up and off of Lan Zhan's knees, and Lan Zhan repeats the motion—except this time, he taps Wei Ying's ass a bit harder. "Stay."

An indistinct, garbled noise of complaint comes from Wei Ying's throat, but he stops trying to get up. Lan Zhan's hand moves in soothing circles, every once in a while pausing to knead a handful of muscle and fat.

"Good," Lan Zhan murmurs, lightly swatting once more and admiring the shudder that ripples through Wei Ying. "You know what to say if you want me to stop?"

"Huh?" Wei Ying looks over his shoulder, confused, then remembers. "Oh! Radishes. Right."

"Do you want me to stop?"

Lan Zhan's hands pause, and Wei Ying whines. "Ugh, no. It's…fine."

Lifting his hand, Lan Zhan brings it down with a bit more force than before, still not enough to hurt. Wei Ying is biting his lip and looks torn between shame and arousal. He's still hard, grinding down on Lan Zhan's legs subtly.

Lan Zhan plucks the bottle from Wei Ying's hand, squirting a bit of lube onto his fingers. He brings them to rest in the valley between Wei Ying's cheeks. Wei Ying lifts his hips, trying to get them inside, but Lan Zhan stays just out of reach until he stills. Letting just the tip of his middle finger slide inside, he uses his free hand to once again lightly smack Wei Ying on the rear.

"Er-gege." Wei Ying complains. "I want more."

"Alright." Lan Zhan sinks the digit in further, up to the third knuckle. "All you had to do was ask."

"All I had to…" Wei Ying pushes himself up onto his elbows to glare back at Lan Zhan. "No, you never give me anything when I ask for it!"

Slowly easing in his index finger, Lan Zhan lets the digits curl to brush against Wei Ying's insides. "Never?" he asks, as Wei Ying melts into his lap.

"Never in, like, hnng…" Wei Ying fidgets in place as Lan Zhan's fingers begin moving in and out. "Never in a sexy way. You, ah, are much nicer outside of the bedroom. Shit!"

"Do you want me to be nice?"

Wei Ying pauses. "Is this a trick question?"

Lan Zhan says nothing, but Wei Ying's eyes, trained on Lan Zhan's slightly curved mouth, narrow.

"Alright…" he says slowly. "Let's say that yes, I want you to be nice to me in the bedroom just this once."

"As you wish."

Lan Zhan gently turns Wei Ying over and maneuvers them so that Wei Ying is on top. He pumps three fingers into Wei Ying's ass, and when Wei Ying snatches the lube and slicks Lan Zhan's cock, he doesn't fight him. Slowly lowering himself, Wei Ying's face is scrunched up in concentration as his body adjusts. Lan Zhan strokes his thighs softly, letting him take the lead. For now.

Once Wei Ying's ass is flush against his thighs, Lan Zhan asks, "So, you want me to be nice?"

Wei Ying rolls his eyes. "Duh."

"Mn, but remember that you asked for it." Before Wei Ying has a chance to retort, the compliments begin to flow: "Wei Ying is so beautiful, taking my cock so well."

Color rises to Wei Ying's cheeks. "Haha, very fu—ah! Yeah, right there…"

"Wei Ying is skilled at riding me, and he looks good bouncing on it."

"You did not just use the words 'bouncing on it,'" Wei Ying grumbles. The red flush continues to creep up toward his eyebrows. "You can go back, unngh, back to being a caveman who can barely…barely…grunt out two words during sex."

"A-Ying deserves to know that he is the most beautiful man in the world, and he is—"

"Ahhh, stop!" Wei Ying brings his hands up to cover his face. "Noooo, okay, okay, I admit defeat. You are the worst!"

"A-Ying can have anything he wants from me," Lan Zhan continues. "Anything at all, and I'll give it to him. Because he is the best, most—"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Wei Ying cries. "Go back to being mean, you bully! I can't handle you being nice."

"Mn." Hands curling around Wei Ying's hips, Lan Zhan yanks him down roughly and begins fucking into him with fast, sharp thrusts.

Wei Ying goes limp on top of him, surrendering control. Gathering him in his arms, Lan Zhan rolls over clockwise, positioning himself on top, and for a while, Wei Ying lets himself be ravished. His eyes are slightly glazed, his mouth hanging open, but he suddenly snaps back into focus, giving Lan Zhan a smile that turns into a smirk.

Squeezing Lan Zhan with his thighs, Wei Ying rolls. His sits triumphantly astride Lan Zhan, revolving his hips in an unhurried circle. "Ha! I win. Wait, no!"

Lan Zhan throws Wei Ying off of him, pinning him to the mattress again, but before he can get too comfortable, Wei Ying wrestles him back onto his back. Refusing to be defeated, Lan Zhan responds by immediately turning over once more. They've migrated all the way to the opposite side of Lan Zhan's king-sized bed, and he celebrates his victory by proceeding to fuck Wei Ying with zero mercy.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying shouts. "Wait!"

Unfortunately, Lan Zhan makes the mistake of slowing down. This allows Wei Ying to hold onto him tight—and he rolls.

"Wei Ying! Don't—"

It's too late. They are already tumbling to the ground. Lan Zhan rotates to ensure that Wei Ying will not be harmed by his own folly, and his two shoulders take the brunt of the hit. The fall knocks the wind from Lan Zhan's lungs, but after a terrifying moment of being frightened to move, he discovers that he isn't hurt in the slightest. Wei Ying on the other hand…

"Ow! Fuck! My knees!"

Lan Zhan winces, his hands sliding along the outside of Wei Ying's thighs to get to his knees. Taking a few deep breaths, Wei Ying pats one of Lan Zhan's hands. "I'm okay. Don't worry."

Before Lan Zhan can comment, Wei Ying is sitting up, and he begins to ride Lan Zhan with purpose. Lan Zhan wants to praise him some more, to tell Wei Ying that he is beautiful and sexy and so, so, incredibly beloved. The words get stuck in his throat while he watches the muscles in Wei Ying's legs flex.

Wei Ying, on the other hand, is still able to run his mouth.

"Ah, holy shit, Lan Zhan. You feel so good. I can't believe you thought you could win against me."

Biting back a smile, Lan Zhan smooths a hand along Wei Ying's flank.

"Such a shame." Wei Ying tuts. "Here I thought the big, strong Hanguang-jun could—"

Lan Zhan turns suddenly, cradling the back of Wei Ying's skull so that it doesn't hit the floor. One of the pillows fell to the floor either before or while he and Wei Ying were falling, and he grabs it, using it to cushion Wei Ying's head. Wei Ying is suddenly speechless, staring at Lan Zhan with wide eyes as he raises one of Wei Ying's legs to examine the knee. A dark bruise is blooming there, as is also true when he looks at the other knee.

Carefully lowering Wei Ying's legs to the floor, Lan Zhan drops his upper body, wrapping himself around Wei Ying like a protective bubble. Wei Ying's hands come up to cup his face, studying him.

"Lan Zhan…"

Rather than saying whatever is on his mind, Wei Ying instead kisses Lan Zhan fiercely. Lan Zhan moans around his tongue, his hips languidly rocking back and forth, and… Yes. Lan Zhan could spend the rest of his life just like this. The two of them, together, forgetting the rest of the world.

Wei Ying tenses, convulsing around Lan Zhan and sending Lan Zhan into his own orgasm. A comforting, not at all awkward silence falls over them as they come down, and they exchange dozens of lazy, artless kisses, tangled in a heap of loose limbs on the floor of Lan Zhan's bedroom. Wei Ying's eyes are filled with soft warmth, and he asks, after pulling away from Lan Zhan's mouth, "Would it be okay if I stayed the night?"

"Of course," Lan Zhan answers. "You can stay whenever you like."

He stops himself from offering to let Wei Ying pack up and move in because…that would probably be too much. Even if Lan Zhan can easily picture a life where he wakes up every morning with Wei Ying by his side. A life where he comes home every night to Wei Ying's smiling face.

The aforementioned face lights up with a grin. "Whenever I like? You might regret those words one day, Hanguang-jun."

Rolling his eyes, Lan Zhan pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, extending a hand to help Wei Ying sit up as well. On Sunday, Wei Ying had lost an earbud under the couch. He got on all fours to search for it, and when Lan Zhan kneeled, offering the flashlight of his phone, Wei Ying gave him the nickname Hanguang-jun. He probably would have dropped it if Lan Zhan hadn't scoffed, but fortunately or unfortunately, this name is apparently something Lan Zhan will be living with for a while.

Lan Zhan may have to ban Wei Ying from watching xianxia C-dramas.

(Of course, Lan Zhan would never deprive Wei Ying of anything, not even stupid nicknames that belong in a world where immortal cultivators fly around on swords.)

While Wei Ying sits on the edge of the bed, Lan Zhan goes into the bathroom. He turns on the sink, letting the water warm as he searches for the arnica gel in the cabinet, and returns to the bedroom with the gel and a warm, wet washcloth. Without a word, he wipes the come off Wei Ying's stomach, then cleans the mess between his legs. Then, he tosses the cloth into the hamper, turning his attention to Wei Ying's knees.

When he looks up, Wei Ying is watching him with a mixture of fondness and skepticism. He nods toward his knees. "Is all the fuss really necessary?"

"Mn." Lan Zhan finishes rubbing the arnica gel in, then kisses Wei Ying once again before going to wash his hands.

They spend the rest of the evening in bed, nude but doing nothing more scandalous than kissing and cuddling while the television plays a show they've already seen before. Wei Ying hangs onto Lan Zhan tightly, laughing brightly while offering commentary such as "How can [the main character] be soooo oblivious?! That man is obviously pining for you, you dummy!"

When nine o'clock comes, Lan Zhan is reluctant to close his eyes, but Wei Ying gently admonishes him for being stubborn. "Go to sleep, silly! I want you to fuck me first thing in the morning, even if I'm not awake for it."

"Mn." That, Lan Zhan can do.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying is enjoying a pleasant dream in which he meets a spotted donkey with an attitude problem. Something chimes, stirring his sleepy mind, and the warm, firm weight in his arms shifts away from him. This is not what Wei Ying wants; he wants to stay like this forever, toasty and cozy and pleasantly disoriented, his dreams swirling together in blur of vivid images and sounds. Without meaning to, he lets out a high-pitched whine.

A huff of laughter ghosts across his lips. Then, there's a soft warmth pressing against them and, oh. How nice. Wei Ying hums happily as something pushes at his shoulder. He gives in, allowing himself to be rolled onto his back, and then there's wet heat suckling at his neck that makes his spine feel like it's melting into the mattress.

The heat moves lower, teasing his collarbones. A pleased sigh escapes him as it works its way down his body, even more tantalizing than the slide of linen sheets being dragged across and away from his skin. Wei Ying feels so…warm. It slides down his sides, holding him tightly, then wraps around his hips, squeezing. His legs are raised, then pushed apart, and now there's a comforting weight draped across his torso, keeping him from floating away with his dreams.

He doesn't notice the arousal humming through him until there's a faint, fleeting touch upon his dick. Once he's aware of what he's feeling, and how it's melded together with the soft, shimmering glimmer of his dreamscape, it's like he's somehow detached from the world while also being one with it. Still levitating above his body, a thought threads itself together in his mind:

This is what it feels like to be loved.

His thighs are guided further apart, and something thick, slick, and insistent finds its way inside him. Someone moans—it must have been Wei Ying, but he can't tell for sure. One digit turns into two and this time, it's definitely Wei Ying whining as they curl and set off fireworks in his lower half. He hears a brief, quiet chuckle, feels it against his neck, and he's filled with a bubbling sense of adoration that threatens to escape from his pores.

He finds himself suddenly empty, which makes him grumble in complaint. A soft, warm kiss pressed to his forehead soothes him—as does being spread open by something even thicker and hotter than before. It begins to rock in and out of him, dragging across his most sensitive parts, punching the breath from his lungs. "Mm…" Wei Ying mumbles. "Feels…good."

The weight on top of him is solid, and it presses him deeper into the marshmallow softness at his back and beneath his hips. His arms lift, searching, and fit perfectly around the body above him. He feels weak and uncoordinated, like a baby deer, but he holds on as tightly as he can, wanting to get closer and closer. If he doesn't let go, perhaps he can stay like this forever, safe and cherished and glowing.

He feels like a boat on the ocean, calm and steady, lulled by the motion of the waves. He is senseless to anything other than the pleasure singing through his body, pooling low, low in his core, coalescing into a whirlpool in his gut. It crescendos steadily, going up and up and up until it finally hits its breaking point. Then, Wei Ying shatters into a million sparkling shards.

Suddenly aware, his eyes crack open, searching in the dark. "La… La… Zha…"

His voice croaks, barely audible.

"Shh… Go back to sleep, Wei Ying."

Unable to fight the pull of drowsiness, Wei Ying drifts off again, falling back into his dream about the rude donkey that gives him side-eye and refuses to let him ride on its back.

~.~.~

Seven alarms later, Wei Ying is awake.

Barely.

With a long, aggrieved sigh, he drags himself out of bed and, after making a pit stop in the en suite to pee, shuffles into the kitchen like a zombie. Lan Zhan is cooking, and Wei Ying's first cognizant thought as he flings himself onto a bar stool is about how well Lan Zhan's powder blue slacks hug his ass. It really shouldn't be legal to look this drop dead sexy on a Wednesday morning.

Wei Ying hums gratefully as a cup of coffee is pushed into his hands, the aroma already helping to clear his head. Lan Zhan's fingers brush against Wei Ying's as he gives it to him, and okay. Who gave this man permission to look at Wei Ying with such obvious fondness on a Wednesday morning???

Wei Ying's second coherent thought of the morning is the realization that he is still stark naked. It also occurs to him that he must have somehow managed to sleep through being cleaned up. It makes his heart do a somersault to know that Lan Zhan takes such good care of him, even when he's not awake to appreciate it.

"Did you sleep well?" Lan Zhan asks. It's an innocent question, but Wei Ying knows exactly what game he's playing at. His elbows rest on the granite countertop, facing Wei Ying.

He narrows his eyes, blowing away the steam rising from the mug. "I did…until someone woke me up."

"Mn." Lan Zhan reaches out to brush a lock of (undoubtedly horrendously messy) hair behind Wei Ying's ear. "Was it not to your liking?"

"It was a little too much to my liking," Wei Ying grumbles honestly. He takes a sip of his coffee and hums. "It'd be nice to wake up every morning to—"

His mouth snaps closed. All of a sudden, he feels much more alert. "I mean, uh… Yeah… I liked it a lot."

Reaching across the counter to give one of Wei Ying's hands a squeeze, Lan Zhan turns his attention back to the stove. "I have to be to work by eight," he says conversationally. "It's only a ten-minute drive."

Wei Ying leans his head to one side to see around Lan Zhan's body (his very nice, very sweet, very "making Wei Ying breakfast on a weekday morning" body) to glance at the clock on the stove-top. It is currently seven-fifteen, so he has a bit of time left with Lan Zhan. But not quite enough time.

He never has enough time with Lan Zhan.

"I don't have to be in until nine, but it'll be funny to see the surprise on everyone's faces when I roll in on time for once."

Grabbing a plate out of the cupboard, Lan Zhan's shoulders seem to tense slightly. Wei Ying admires the view of Lan Zhan plating three fried eggs and two pieces of toast, which he butters quickly and efficiently. He places them in front of Wei Ying, who barely pauses to grab the proffered fork before stuffing his face.

"There is no need for you to rush," Lan Zhan says quietly while Wei Ying is busy eating. "You are free to use the shower, watch television, whatever you wish to do."

Washing down the toast with a swig of coffee, Wei Ying grins. "What if 'whatever I wish' involves throwing an eight a.m. house party?"

Lan Zhan gives him a deadpan stare, which sends Wei Ying into a fit of giggles. "Er-gege, you're too easy to tease!"

He drains the last of his coffee, and by the time it touches the counter, Lan Zhan is already pouring him more. After ensuring his cup is filled, Lan Zhan sets to work slicing up some fruit, his movements precise and efficient like some kind of ninja. Wei Ying smiles against ceramic, much too in love on a Wednesday morning.

A bit of coffee drips onto Wei Ying's bare chest, reminding him that he is really letting it all hang out. "I have some work clothes in the car," he tells Lan Zhan, so that he won't think Wei Ying is some kind of heathen who doesn't plan ahead. "I'd apologize for having my sweaty ass on your fancy seat, except you've fucked me on almost literally every surface in this house."

"Not in the gym," Lan Zhan is quick to point out.

"Oh yeah…" Wei Ying pretends to be huffy. "You still haven't shown me the gym!"

"Soon," Lan Zhan promises with a small grin. "You had some questions about my workout routine."

"Hell yeah, I do!" Wei Ying slams the half-empty cup down. "You're my boyfriend, Lan Zhan! You are legally required to share all secrets with me—including your secret to being so—so… jacked! Seriously, Lan Zhan! What the hell are you doing in there?!"

He shoves the last three bites of toast into his mouth, and Lan Zhan swipes the plate, carrying it to the sink to rinse. The ear that is visible to Wei Ying is bright red and Wei Ying wants to bite it. His dick responds to the thought with an interested twitch, but it will have to wait until later. For now, he's content to watch Lan Zhan's shirt straining to contain those shoulders as he quickly cleans up the kitchen.

"Am I good to borrow some shorts real quick?" Wei Ying asks. "I mean, your neighbors might appreciate the view and all, but—"

"You may borrow my shorts," Lan Zhan interrupts. He looks slightly annoyed for some reason.

Wei Ying tries not to think too much about what he could have done in the last five seconds to piss off Lan Zhan. Doing so will only validate the voice in the back of his mind telling that Lan Zhan is annoyed because Wei Ying is annoying and he should definitely not be here and—

Shaking his head, Wei Ying refuses to dwell on it. He hops up from his stool, planning to go to the bedroom for clothes—but Lan Zhan catches him by the elbow. When Wei Ying halts, Lan Zhan's hand slides down his forearm, gently turning his hand so that the palm faces the ceiling. "I have something I want to give you."

"Oh! A gift?" It's a bit alarming how easily Wei Ying has adjusted to being spoiled rotten. If Lan Zhan keeps this up, he's going to wind up with a certified brat on his hands.

Lan Zhan drops a small piece of cool metal into Wei Ying's open hand. Bringing it up to his face, his breath catches. "Lan Zhan…is this really for me?"

"Mn." Picking up Wei Ying's other hand, Lan Zhan threads their fingers together. "I want you to know that…you are always welcome in my home."

Wei Ying feels positively giddy as his fingers close around the silver key. "Oh…Lan Zhan. I… You want me to have this? Like, for real?"

"For real," Lan Zhan echoes.

"But…" Wei Ying is still struggling to wrap his head around the fact that he is basically being granted permission to come to Lan Zhan's house—and take up space—whenever he wants. "I guess I should make you a copy of my apartment key."

"That is not necessary." Lan Zhan breaks eye contact first, looking down at the key in Wei Ying's hand. "I understand if this is…too much."

"No!" Wei Ying hurries to assure him. "It's not too much. Not at all. And now you don't have to get up to let me in when I—Oh. I probably shouldn't just let myself in."

"Nonsense. That is what the key is for."

"Right…"

Lan Zhan has given Wei Ying a key to his house. That has to mean… It has to mean something, right?! Wei Ying hasn't been able to suss out the true depths of Lan Zhan's feelings. He knows that Lan Zhan is fond of him, that he cares about Wei Ying enough to perform all these little acts of kindhearted devotion.

But also…Wei Ying needs to remember that Lan Zhan is a good person. He donates to charity, gives homeless people the spare cash he keeps in his wallet. He shops only at indie boutiques that sell cruelty-free clothes that aren't made in sweatshops. He teaches orchestra to disadvantaged youth on weekday evenings.

Maybe he doesn't love Wei Ying…yet.

But something warm and glowing blooms in Wei Ying's chest as he thinks about what the future will bring. Lan Zhan doesn't love him yet…but Wei Ying is almost positive that he will. Someday soon.

Wei Ying will be the happiest man alive if even a one-hundredth of his love is returned. When that day comes, he'll tell Lan Zhan everything. He'll tell Lan Zhan about the moment he realized he was in love, about how he suspects that he has always been crazy for Lan Zhan, even when he was a dumb kid convinced he was straight. He'll tell Lan Zhan that he wants to spend the rest of their lives together and he wants to always be at Lan Zhan's side.

Someday.

Soon.

Chapter Text

"Wow!" Wei Ying eyes the functional trainer with an awed expression. "Are we using this today?"

He has asked the same question about every piece of equipment they've looked at so far. First, the squat rack. Then, the suspension trainer. Lan Zhan had to step away from the latter quickly when Wei Ying began doing pushups, but he made a mental note to revisit this position sometime later. Preferably with no clothes on.

After that, Wei Ying insisted on trying out the stair stepper. He made it for three minutes before giving up, moaning that his glutes were going to hate him for days.

Lan Zhan will massage them later, but first…

Bright-eyed and clad in a burgundy tank top and black athletic shorts that tastefully hint at the curve of his ass, Wei Ying has asked Lan Zhan to walk him through his typical workout, and, while Lan Zhan knows that Wei Ying is fit, he wants to show off a bit. So:

"Today, we will be doing yoga."

"Huh?!" Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan as if he is waiting for him to laugh. "Lan Zhan, we can do yoga anywhere. I want to test out the machines!"

"If you can still move after half an hour of yoga, we will move onto the machines."

"Okay, then! Easy peasy." Wei Ying flicks his ponytail, which was draped in front of his shoulder, behind his back. It sways behind him as he walks over to the two mats Lan Zhan has set up in the center of the room. His hips sway, too, but Lan Zhan is determined to avoid distractions.

(He does, however, allow himself to ogle Wei Ying's ass as he squats in front of the mat, his hand reaching down to feel its texture.)

Wei Ying looks back over his shoulder, his eyes crinkling as he catches where Lan Zhan is staring. "Come on! Let's get our stretching out of the way so we can lift!"

The corners of Lan Zhan's lips lift at his poor boyfriend's naivety.

They begin in pentacle pose. Wei Ying lets out a theatrical yawn. "I'm gonna fall asleep. Is yoga just another word for 'nap time'?"

Lan Zhan rolls his eyes, not that Wei Ying can see it from this angle. "Arms to your side. Lift your feet."

Lifting his head, Wei Ying looks over at Lan Zhan and mimics his half plough position, straightening his legs with his feet parallel to the ceiling. They hold it for a few breaths before Lan Zhan moves on to half boat, and if Lan Zhan holds the position for a few beats longer than necessary, well. Who will call him out for his pettiness?

"This one is a bit trickier," Lan Zhan warns, when he decides it is time to move on. "Keep your legs straight and hold onto your toes."

Wei Ying struggles with the balancing stick pose, and he curses his lack of flexibility while Lan Zhan counts his breaths. Lan Zhan's shoulders shake with a quiet laugh.

Struggling to keep a straight face, Lan Zhan instructs, "Lower your arms until they are parallel with the floor. Keep your core engaged."

"Is there, hah," Wei Ying pants, "a way to, fuck, do this pose without engaging your core?"

The last few words come out in a rush. Lan Zhan holds for one more breath and then, because he is a good boyfriend, lowers his feet to the ground, getting into a seated forward bend.

"Oh, thank fuck!" Wei Ying's heels hit the mat. He eyes Lan Zhan, then tries to mimic his position. Still unable to extend his legs fully, he is more or less doing it correctly.

Lan Zhan sits up, getting into a squat with his hands on the ground. He steps one foot back at a time, while Wei Ying imitates every movement. Up until Lan Zhan sinks into downward dog.

At this point, Wei Ying is on hands and knees. His eyes are wide, his face flushed with exertion.

"This pose isn't that challenging," Lan Zhan offers. Fixing his gaze back on his navel, he lowers his chest toward his belly, enjoying the stretch in his hips and quadriceps.

"The pose," Wei Ying squeaks, "is not the problem."

Lan Zhan turns his head to look at him again, concerned. "Then, what is?"

Wei Ying's hands come up to scrub at his eyes, hiding his face. "Seriously?! You're gonna ask me, with total sincerity, why I can't focus when my hotter-than-a-fucking-supermodel boyfriend has his ass up in the air?! Oh, and did I mention that he is wearing yoga pants?!"

Blood rushing to his head, Lan Zhan settles back onto his knees. "I can see why that would be distracting."

He should loan a Wei Ying a pair of his yoga pants next time. His dick seems to nod in approval.

"Okay, okay, okay," Wei Ying says, lightly slapping his face. "I'm focused. What's our next pose?"

It is now time to get into the more challenging flow of movements. Wei Ying complains loudly all the while, his voice growing increasingly winded, and Lan Zhan continues to be both amused and very, very, helplessly in love. When the agreed upon half hour has passed, Wei Ying lies flat on his back, breathing hard. Lan Zhan walks toward him on his knees to guide him through some cool-down stretches.

"I…can't…move…" Wei Ying wheezes. "Lan Zhan…I'm…dying."

"A tragic end." Lifting Wei Ying's right leg, Lan Zhan gently lifts his knee towards his chest, stretching his hip flexor. "Shall I begin making funeral arrangements?"

"Mm-hmm." Wei Ying whines as Lan Zhan presses his thigh towards his belly. "Hey, while you're down there…"

He smirks, suddenly forgetting to bellyache. Lan Zhan adds a bit more pressure, which makes him remember it all at once. "Ouch, not so rough!"

Lan Zhan releases his right leg in order to stretch his left. He doesn't move when both of Wei Ying's feet have returned to the ground. His knees immediately fall away from each other, his muscles too tired to keep them up.

"How're you gonna make me feel better?" Wei Ying asks with a pout.

"Do you still want to use the machines?"

"Fuck no," Wei Ying groans. "Either carry me to the bathtub or make love to me, right here."

Sliding a hand along Wei Ying's sweaty thigh, Lan Zhan decides that he will do both, just not in that order.

He gets on all fours, positioning his hands by Wei Ying's shoulders. They spend a moment just looking at each other before Lan Zhan brushes away the damp bangs sticking to Wei Ying's forehead. Then, he leans in to kiss him softly but firmly.

"I'm all sticky," Wei Ying says, nose wrinkling, when Lan Zhan moves to mouth along his jaw.

Lan Zhan has no such qualms. His tongue comes out to sample the sweet, salty taste of Wei Ying's skin. "You want me to take you right here?"

"Ha…hah…yeah…" With exaggerated effort, Wei Ying manages to drape his arms across Lan Zhan's shoulders. "How's 'bout it, gege? Wanna get down and dirty with—Hey, no fair!"

Lan Zhan's hand, now cupping the tent forming in Wei Ying's pants, squeezes. Wei Ying arches into his touch, greedy for it, even as he complains about it being "too much…too…much, Lan Zhan!"

When Lan Zhan pulls him into a sitting position to take off his tank top, Wei Ying groans. "Ugggghhhh, my abs are gonna be sore for a month!"

"Did you not say that yoga was merely 'stretching'?" Lan Zhan asks, determined to be a petty bitch. He shrugs out of his own t-shirt, then pushes his pants and underwear down in one motion. Next, he peels off Wei Ying's shorts and red boxer briefs.

"I get it, I was wrong." Wei Ying pouts. "I've seen the error of my ways because Lan-er-gege is always right. Now, fuck me."

"I will have to go get the—"

"Lube?" Wei Ying reaches into his pocket and pulls out a familiar, half-empty bottle. He snickers at Lan Zhan's surprise. "It kept wanting to fall out of my pocket in certain poses, but I wanted it to be a surprise."

Lan Zhan swipes the bottle from Wei Ying's hand, placing it beside the mat. His hands grip the underside of Wei Ying's thighs, pushing them farther apart as he sinks onto his belly.

"What're you—ah!" Wei Ying's entire body tenses as Lan Zhan's flattened tongue flutters over his hole. "Lan Zhan! You—you can't! It's, hngh…gross!"

Paying him no mind, Lan Zhan kisses him without holding back, making his boyfriend wriggle and writhe. When he finally deigns to have mercy, he sits up on his heels, admiring the view of Wei Ying, already looking wrecked. He takes his time pouring some lube onto his fingers and bringing his hand between Wei Ying's legs, and he studies Wei Ying's face as the first digit sinks into him, memorizing every fleeting expression that crosses Wei Ying's face.

Slowly working his way up to three fingers, Lan Zhan takes his time. Wei Ying pleads with him to hurry up, making all sorts of filthy promises that he will undoubtedly complain about when Lan Zhan comes to collect at a later date, and it's only when Lan Zhan's cock is positioned at his entrance that his stream of words seems to run dry. It's only a momentary lapse, however. After a few seconds of being shocked into silence, he begins to beg anew:

"Please, please, please, Lan Zhan. Fuck, what is taking you so long?! Don't you know I needed you yesterday?"

Lan Zhan eases his way inside. It's so tight that if they had not already done this too many times to count, he might think it wouldn't fit. He feels his patience straining, and Wei Ying's mouth, urging him onward, keeps his hips moving, rocking subtly back and forth, going a little deeper each time.

"That's it," Wei Ying groans as Lan Zhan's hips comes to rest against his ass. "Fuck me now, please, I—"

Pulling out partway, Lan Zhan drives back in with force. It makes Wei Ying yelp and let out a little whine that makes Lan Zhan do it again. He sets a moderate rhythm, channeling power into each thrust. Wei Ying struggles to hold his legs up, at times keeping them wrapped around Lan Zhan's hips and at others letting them fall to the floor. His arms are similarly exhausted, but he fights the muscle fatigue to bring his hands up, cupping Lan Zhan's face, as he continues to chatter.

"I know—oh, shit—that you can fuck me harder than that." His grin falters when Lan Zhan gives into his goading and slams into him harder than before, making his back drag against the mat beneath him. "Ack! Too hard, too hard! Lan Zhan, I was only teasing. I just—"

"You can take it," Lan Zhan snaps. He bites the junction of Wei Ying's neck and shoulder, making him hiss. His cock, pressed snugly against Lan Zhan's belly leaks precome, smearing both their skin.

"I really can't!" Wei Ying wails. "You're—you're too mean, er-gege! Can't we, fuck, talk about this like adults?"

"You've done nothing but talk." Dragging his tongue across the bruise blooming on Wei Ying's neck, Lan Zhan would do anything to keep Wei Ying talking forever. "If you want me to stop, be silent."

Despite the tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, Wei Ying grins. "That's impossible, and you know it. I was born with a mouth for speaking, so of course I gotta use it. How else would I tell Lan-er-gege how pretty he is? Or how he makes me so hard. How I want him inside me literally all the time. Or how he's a work of art that belongs on magazines and—Fuck! Lan Zhan, not so hard!"

A deep flush has undoubtedly overtaken Lan Zhan's ears and neck. Curse his pale skin for making his embarrassment so obvious. It appears Wei Ying is taking revenge for all the times Lan Zhan has forced him to endure his praises.

Oh well. Two can play at that game.

"Wei Ying is the pretty one," Lan Zhan murmurs into Wei Ying's chest. He takes the nipple into his mouth, tugging on it not so gently. "Beautiful. Desirable. Good at taking my—"

Wei Ying makes a high pitched noise in his throat. "You are the worst!"

One of Wei Ying's arms has fallen to rest beside his head. Lan Zhan interlocks their fingers, bringing Wei Ying's hand to his mouth so that he can brush his lips against the knuckles. Then, he guides Wei Ying's hand to his dick and orders, "Touch yourself."

"Ha," Wei Ying says, a weak attempt at a laugh. "I'm getting everything I want."

"That is my goal," Lan Zhan replies. "I will give Wei Ying everything I have. I will—"

"No, stoooop!" Wei Ying's face is bright red as he strokes himself. "Stop, I'm gonna…gonna…"

"Are you going to come for me?" asks Lan Zhan. "You have my permission. Come whenever you'd like."

(In all honesty, Lan Zhan isn't confident he himself will last much longer.)

Wei Ying's cock is flushed a deep red as he brings himself to the brink. He clenches around Lan Zhan and comes, painting his chest and belly with his release. Lan Zhan lets himself go as well, fucking Wei Ying roughly as he chases his own orgasm. When he reaches his peak, he has to bite his tongue to keep certain words from spilling out.

I love you, Wei Ying.

It isn't the right time yet, but Lan Zhan believes they will get there someday, eventually. As he shudders through the last ripples of pleasure, he opens his eyes and finds Wei Ying watching him with a dopey, carefree grin and, yes. Lan Zhan is confident that Wei Ying will love him back someday, and although there is no way it could possibly match Lan Zhan's level of intensity, it will be more than enough.

Coming back to reality, they are even sweatier than before. Their skin sticks together, squelching, as Lan Zhan pulls out. Wei Ying's nose wrinkles. "Gross. Absolutely disgusting. Please tell me we're done in here, because I have a date with someone called Your Giant Ass Shower right about now."

Lan Zhan tries not to let his discomfort show, but he, too, is very much looking forward to getting cleaned up. He stands, offering his hand to Wei Ying. "No shower."

"What?!" Wei Ying gapes at him. "What the hell do you mean 'no shower'?!"

A smile tugs at Lan Zhan's lips. "I was thinking we could soak in the tub."

"Ah?!" Wei Ying's face lights up. "A bath?! Oh, Lan Zhan! You had me going for a second there. But I should have known you'd never let me down. A bath sounds divine right now!"

Remember his earlier promise, Lan Zhan moves quickly to sweep Wei Ying up in a bridal carry. It makes Wei Ying squeal in equal parts delight and indignation.

"Hey! None of that! I'm not some sweaty, smelly princess who needs to be carried everywhere."

Despite his complaining, he clings to Lan Zhan the whole way to the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying coughs as his head is suddenly yanked away from Lan Zhan's dick. He gasps for air, then chokes out, "Gege, please! I need to be fucked now!"

"No." Lan Zhan allows him a moment to breathe, because he's not a total monster, before forcing Wei Ying's head down once again. Obediently relaxing his jaw, Wei Ying swallows it whole, his nose coming to rest against Lan Zhan's pubic bone with minimal guidance.

Lan Zhan gently strokes along the curve of a tear-smeared cheek. "You've gotten so good at sucking cock. Were you made for this?"

He tugs at Wei Ying's hair gently—then roughly when Wei Ying initially refuses to budge. Inhaling loudly as he surfaces, Wei Ying stares at Lan Zhan with glassy eyes. He blinks a few times, not understanding.

"I asked you a question," Lan Zhan prompts.

When Wei Ying continues to stare at him with a confused expression, Lan Zhan guides his head back down with one hand, wrapping the other around the base of his cock. He allows Wei Ying to take just the tip, but when he tries to fit more in his mouth, Lan Zhan pulls him away. He taps it against Wei Ying's lips and his tongue that keeps darting out to taste it.

"I asked you: What were you made for?"

"I…" Wei Ying tries once more to get it in his mouth, pouting when Lan Zhan forces him to look him in the eye.

"What were you made for?" Lan Zhan repeats.

"To…to…suck…" He shudders violently. "To suck…your cock. Lan Zhan, can I…?"

Seated on the couch with Wei Ying on his knees in front of him, Lan Zhan bends to kiss Wei Ying's forehead. "Very good. What do you need?"

"Can I… Can I…more… Please, can I…suck it?"

"You can," Lan Zhan concedes with a small grin that undermines the mean persona he's supposed to be cultivating. He schools his features into a scowl. "Look at you…already a mess. Begging. Crying. I haven't even touched you, and you are barely able to put together a sentence."

A spark of indignation flashes in Wei Ying's eyes, extinguished by Lan Zhan releasing his hold on his ponytail. Finally allowed to have what he wants, he no longer feels the need to complain. He raises his arms, wrists bound together by a pair of simple metal handcuffs.

"No." Lan Zhan tugs on his hair slightly. "Hands in your lap. Or else I will tie them behind your back tightly enough to prevent them from moving."

Wei Ying makes a grumbly noise, but he does obey Lan Zhan's directive.

The game continues for a few minutes, until drool is leaking down Wei Ying's chin and Lan Zhan is certain that his jaw is aching. Finally, Lan Zhan asks, "Are you ready for me?"

Ponytail bobbing, Wei Ying pulls off chanting, "…yes, yes, please, please…"

Lan Zhan helps him up, guiding him to straddle Lan Zhan's lap while placing his shackled wrists behind Lan Zhan's neck. When Lan Zhan's cock, slick with saliva, is positioned at his entrance, Wei Ying seems to wake up from a daze. "W-wait! Lan Zhan… We need—"

"We do not," Lan Zhan interrupts. "I fucked you not even an hour ago. You will be fine."

"But…"

"What did you ask me to do?" With his hands curled possessively over Wei Ying's hips, Lan Zhan pulls him down.

"I… I asked…"

There's a bit of resistance, but with a bit of firm pressure, Lan Zhan gets him to slowly open up around the head. "You asked?"

Wei Ying's face is flushed all the way to his hairline. Tears continue to trickle from his eyes every few seconds. "I said, like an idiot, 'Lan Zhan! Be mean to me, please!'"

"Mn." With the assistance of gravity, Lan Zhan is soon fully seated within him. "Am I not doing as you asked?"

"Hah…ha!" Wei Ying clenches around Lan Zhan's length. "You…took it pretty seriously when I said, 'Don't go easy on me!'"

"'Even if I cry and beg for my life,'" Lan Zhan quotes.

"Can't we…forget I said that?" asks Wei Ying. "I-I was a…different person…back then."

Despite his complaining, his hips rotate in Lan Zhan's lap.

"No."

Wei Ying lets out something like a wail. "Mercy, er-gege! I've changed!"

Lan Zhan grabs him by what's left of his ponytail. "You never change. You never learn."

Even with Lan Zhan holding him still, Wei Ying keeps wriggling, trying to move. "It's different this time! Let me go with my life, Lan Zhan!"

Lan Zhan's grip on him eases, and Wei Ying immediately begins to bounce. The handcuffs are cold against Lan Zhan's heated neck, the ridges slightly digging into his skin. He lets Wei Ying move freely for a moment before yanking him down harshly by the hips and keeping him there. "Liar. I let you go, and you still cannot get enough of my cock. Are you a slut?"

"N-no…" Eyes wide, Wei Ying's act of innocence would be much more convincing if he wasn't still trying to hump Lan Zhan's lap. "I'm not a—"

"You are." Lan Zhan kneads one side of Wei Ying's ass with bruising force while the other wraps around his chin, keeping their gazes locked. "I will give you what you want, if you admit it."

"But I'm…"

Lifting Wei Ying slightly off of him, Lan Zhan thrusts upward, making Wei Ying gasp in surprise. "Say it."

"Lan-er-gege…" Wei Ying's eyes dart away from Lan Zhan's. "I don't want…"

"Stop lying," Lan Zhan says emphatically, thrusting into him again. "Just tell me what you are and I will give it to you."

"I'm…"

Wei Ying's hips strain against Lan Zhan's grip, attempting to chase his pleasure, but Lan Zhan holds him firmly in place. "You want to ride me, don't you?"

"Ngh…yeah…" Still struggling to move, his back arches as Lan Zhan pulls harder on his hair. "C'mon, er-gege. It'll be so good."

"Then answer my question."

Ducking his head to avoid Lan Zhan's scrutiny, Wei Ying's restricted movements grow increasingly frustrated. "Fine, you win."

Lan Zhan hums victoriously. "Tell me what you are."

Wei Ying screws his eyes shut. "A…slut. I'm a slut, but, but—" His eyes open, shining with desperation. "Only for you, Lan Zhan!"

"Mn. Good."

Letting go of Wei Ying's hips, Lan Zhan arranges him so that his legs are draped over Lan Zhan's arms. Lan Zhan uses his grip on Wei Ying's waist to move him up and down, up and down, and fuck, Wei Ying looks unfairly good like this. His hair is a certified disaster, his face a mess of tears and saliva that he tries to wipe on his shoulder, unable to use his hands.

Lan Zhan can tell Wei Ying is already getting close by the way his insides constrict around Lan Zhan's cock, pulsing erratically as he approaches his peak. He chokes out an incoherent stream of broken pleas and Lan Zhan's name. Increasing the tempo, Lan Zhan feels a sense of victory as Wei Ying cries out, coming so hard that some of it lands on the underside of his jaw. He looks as if he would fall over if his arms weren't linked together around Lan Zhan's neck.

Licking the spend from Wei Ying's neck, Lan Zhan growls and lets his instincts take over. One hand rests at the center of Wei Ying's back to hold him close while the other grips his ass, and Lan Zhan's feet are glued to the ground to give him the leverage to fuck Wei Ying hard and fast and ruthless until his own orgasm tears through him like an earthquake. In the heat of the moment, he bites a spot on Wei Ying's shoulder—a bit too hard—and immediately soothes the area with his tongue in a silent apology.

Wei Ying's posture slumps, his forehead resting against Lan Zhan's. When Lan Zhan opens his eyes, he finds Wei Ying watching him with an unreadable expression, and for a moment, he fears he has taken things too far. The worry that he has trampled over a boundary (or several) is wiped away with Wei Ying's sudden brilliant, if tired, smile.

"Fucking shit, Lan Zhan." His voice is winded, which makes Lan Zhan preen. "Way to just ruin me. Holy hell, how am I supposed to go to work tomorrow? Lan Zhan, I'm gonna have to walk around—if I can even get my legs to work—and pretend everything is fine, but it won't be fine! I'll feel you every time I sit or stand or walk or—anything!"

"Mn," Lan Zhan says, meaning: Please do not ever forget about me.

He stands, his hold on Wei Ying compensating for the fact that, apparently, Wei Ying was not exaggerating about his legs not working. His arms tremble as he lifts them over Lan Zhan's head, and Lan Zhan's first order of business is to free his wrists, which he immediately rolls in a circle to stretch. Laying him out on the couch, Lan Zhan kneels beside him to offer a dozen leisurely kisses that Wei Ying deems "not enough, Lan Zhan! More! More!" thus persuading Lan Zhan to give him two dozen additional kisses.

When Lan Zhan manages to peel himself away, Wei Ying's laughing complaints follow him down the hall. "So mean, er-gege! You're just gonna leave a poor, ruined man to fend for himself?!"

Lan Zhan returns with two warm, damp washcloths. He uses one to gently wipe the excess fluids from Wei Ying's face, and the other is used to clean the mess in other areas. Wei Ying is surprisingly silent throughout this, by now, well-rehearsed ritual, and his voice is soft and subdued when he asks, "Can I have a blanket?"

Retrieving the softest, warmest fleece blanket he owns, Lan Zhan drapes it over Wei Ying, tucking him in. There's a glass of water, ice melted, on the coffee table that Lan Zhan reaches for next. He urges Wei Ying to sit up enough to take a sip, and Wei Ying downs it all at once while Lan Zhan watches his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow.

"I need a nap!" Wei Ying declares as Lan Zhan takes the empty glass from him.

Lan Zhan tucks him back in and moves to stand, but Wei Ying catches his wrist. He looks up at Lan Zhan with his best pleading face. "Won't you lie down with me for just a little while?"

"I will," Lan Zhan agrees.

Wei Ying's face brightens enough to power a solar farm. "Yes, yes, yes! Snuggle time nap time on a Sunday afternoon!"

He presses himself as far into the back of the couch as possible, giving Lan Zhan enough room to lie down beside him. Arms held wide open, he hums happily as Lan Zhan fits himself into the space. He throws the blanket over Lan Zhan's body, then wraps Lan Zhan up in a cozy, comforting embrace. Lan Zhan never, ever sleeps during the day.

But today he makes an exception.

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan puts the car in park as the automatic garage door closes, and Wei Ying is once again in awe of how clean Lan Zhan's garage is. It's a garage! There's supposed to be dirt! And clutter! The walls are painted a cool grey, darker than the rest of Lan Zhan's house, but still light and pristine.

As Lan Zhan turns off the ignition, Wei Ying can't help but smile at the flash of red among the silver. He had hoped that it would rile Lan Zhan up a bit to be presented with a furiously red copy of the key to Wei Ying's apartment, but Lan Zhan had accepted it happily, not even batting an eye at the ostentatious color. (He did, however, fuck Wei Ying through the mattress so good later that night that he cried for twenty minutes afterward.)

When he turns to look at Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan is watching him with what the Wei Ying of a year ago might have mistaken for a blank stare. He knows Lan Zhan so well now that he can tell Lan Zhan is smiling, despite the straight line of his lips, and he knows that Lan Zhan is much more expressive than people give him credit for. From the bitchy side-eye he gives people at the grocery store who block the aisle with their carts to the look of shocked, abject horror that one time Wei Ying practically inhaled an entire jar of jalapenos in under three minutes, Lan Zhan wears his heart on his sleeve…if one knows what to look for.

"What's that look for?" Wei Ying asks, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"I just…" Lan Zhan hesitates. "I was wondering what you want to do for the rest of the day."

"Hmm…" Wei Ying pretends to deliberate, as if he hadn't already decided by the time they pulled into the driveway. "Well, now that you ask…"

When he doesn't offer further explanation, Lan Zhan lets out a small sigh. "What is it?"

Wei Ying turns in his seat. "Now that you mention it, there's a place in your house that we haven't christened yet!"

"I can think of several," Lan Zhan says drily.

"Well, yeah, we'll get to the rest eventually, but I have a particular one in mind! It's uh. I guess not technically part of the house."

He lets the silence drag on, creating suspense.

"The car?" Lan Zhan's eyes shift around, undoubtedly calculating the dimensions.

"Yeah!" Wei Ying drums his hands on the center console. "It's, like, number three on my all-time fantasies list!"

"What are the first two?"

"Number two is, uh, pretty weird. So, better keep that one to myself for now. But number one… Hear me out: two words—or is it one? I think it's one?"

"What is the word?" Lan Zhan asks, reeling Wei Ying back in.

"Handstand."

Lan Zhan's head tilts slightly as he runs through even more mental calculations. "I can arrange that."

"But!" Wei Ying holds up one finger. "We have to save it for a special occasion! Okay?"

"Mn."

Wei Ying laughs. "We should try it on our—"

He cuts himself off suddenly, his face growing warm. "We, uh… Yeah, so…"

He leans over the console to grab one of the plastic bags from the backseat. "I've thought about car sex a lot, and the only part I could never figure out was where on earth we would get lube? Given more time, I probably would've stashed some in the glove box, but then you'd find it and the surprise would be ruined! Maybe I should start carrying a purse. Nah, that'd just be one more thing for me to forget somewhere! Anyway…"

Rifling through the items in the bag, he pulls out a bottle roughly the length of his hand. "Tada!"

Lan Zhan's eyes flick to the bottle before settling again on Wei Ying's face, and Wei Ying quickly sets to work removing the safety seals. "This isn't exactly how I planned for our first romp in the car to go, but it's fine! Lemme just—ope—"

Putting the cap back on the lube, he sets it in the cup-holder for the time being so that he can unbuckle his pants and push them down his legs.

"How did you plan for things to go?" Lan Zhan asks, the amusement clear in his voice.

"Oh, y'know…" Wei Ying kicks his shoes off and awkwardly gets out of his pants and underwear. "We wouldn't be coming back from the grocery store. We'd be coming back from a trip to somewhere fun and far away—but not too far! A day's drive at most." He wraps a hand around his half-hard cock, waving it around in a way that he hopes is as enticing as it is funny. "You'd be listening to that podcast you like, and I'd be getting bored. So, I'd start to play with myself, just to tease you. It'd start with just playing with my dick, letting you watch me get hard. At first, it'd be for laughs, but, knowing me, I would start getting into it, and pretty soon I'd want more. We'd both want more."

While he talks, he retrieves the bottle he set aside, and he squirts a generous amount onto his fingers. He tries to put his feet up on the dash, but his long legs get in the way, forcing him to awkwardly maneuver so that his dry hand can pull the lever to push the seat back. Once his feet are up, he brings his hand between his legs, shivering at the cold touch of his fingers.

"In the perfect world where lube is always at the ready, I would start to open myself up for you, getting ready for when we get home. You'd try to pull over to fuck me somewhere right off the interstate, but I'd convince you to keep driving until we get home. It'd be risky, but you're such a good driver that you'd have no trouble at all splitting your focus between me and the road. You'd drive a whole ten kilometers over the speed limit! Scandalous! And by the time we got home, I'd have four fingers shoved deep in my ass, begging for your cock."

He's managed to get three inside himself by the time Lan Zhan, whose left hand had been holding the steering wheel in a death grip, exhales through his nose and quickly pushes his seat back as far as it will go. He frees his hard cock from his pants and, grabbing Wei Ying by the arm, hauls him over the console, and with a bit (or a lot) of awkward shuffling, they arrange themselves so that Wei Ying is seated in Lan Zhan's lap facing forward, the seat reclined slightly. Lan Zhan holds Wei Ying's waist steady as he lowers himself onto Lan Zhan's cock.

One of Wei Ying's hands is smudging the driver's side window, while the other is pressed against the ceiling. "I need…more…room…"

His head is cranked uncomfortably to the side, his ear hitting the sunroof. A sudden idea occurs to him.

"The sunroof!"

He turns the key backwards and opens the sunroof. It's stupid, but it gives him some room to breathe as he raises himself up, beginning to ride his boyfriend. He chatters as he bounces, cut off here and there by a gasp or moan as Lan Zhan's fucking incredible cock stretches him in just the right way.

"Lan Zhan, fucking—ah!—hell! You're holding onto me too tight! It hurrrts…"

He doesn't receive so much as an "mn" in response.

"You're such…such a bully!" Wei Ying wheezes. "Slow down!"

He says this—as if he himself is not the one setting the pace.

Lan Zhan squeezes his hips, his ass. One hand crawls up Wei Ying's chest to toy with a nipple, which makes his rhythm falter slightly. His slowing down prompts Lan Zhan to grab him roughly by the sides, moving Wei Ying up and down himself. Fuck. Wei Ying really, really enjoys Lan Zhan's unreal displays of arm strength, and the vicious treatment makes his bones dissolve into putty. His hands grip the opening of the sunroof just to keep himself from falling over.

"Ah, mmph, fuck! Lan Zhan! I can't—I need to—please—"

Lan Zhan's right hand releases Wei Ying's waist in favor of wrapping around his dick. Gathering the precome drooling from the tip, he strokes Wei Ying with ruthless precision, each stroke calculated to drive him out of his fucking mind. He sobs Lan Zhan's name as he comes, making a mess that will surely drip onto the upholstered seat, but he's drifting too far away from reality to care. The last remaining brain cell in his head has the thought to tighten around Lan Zhan's cock because if he's going down, he sure as hell plans to take Lan Zhan with him.

Sure enough, Lan Zhan's rhythm shifts, his cock swelling, filling Wei Ying up. He's breathing hard, a low groan pulled from his chest, and his hips roll, slow and gentle, as the last of his orgasm passes. Arms winding around Wei Ying's waist, he buries his face in Wei Ying's hair, inhaling deeply through his nose. It's sweet, and Wei Ying really just wants to melt into him and stay like this forever, but…

"Ugh, Lan Zhan. We need to go inside now."

"Mn," Lan Zhan grumbles.

"Don't 'mn' me," says Wei Ying, opening the driver's side door and peeling himself off of Lan Zhan's lap. His legs tremble, but he refuses to fall over. "We're gonna make a mess all over your car, and you're not allowed to get mad at me about any fluids that might have leaked out and gotten on your pants!"

Lan Zhan gathers Wei Ying's discarded pants and shoes, as well as the few bags of groceries in the backseat, before following him into the house, to which the garage is thankfully attached, given that Wei Ying is exiting the garage with no pants. He can feel Lan Zhan's eyes on his bare ass, which is amusing—but also, it's going to be a while before Wei Ying is ready to go again.

"So, Lan Zhan!" He says later when they're settled on the couch, Wei Ying now wearing a pair of borrowed sweatpants. "On a scale of ten to totally awesome, how would you rank the car sex?"

"Totally awesome," Lan Zhan says, with zero inflection.

Wei Ying laughs loudly. "Ha! Those are two words I never thought I'd hear you say together. Well, as for me, I'd say it was pretty great, but god was it cramped! Maybe when we're coming back from our road trip someday, I'll just go ahead and let you fuck me on the side of the highway."

"Would you like to go on a trip?" Lan Zhan asks suddenly.

"What?" Wei Ying turns, blinking at him a few times. He suddenly feels somewhat shy. "I think… Yeah. I'd like that a lot."

Lan Zhan picks up Wei Ying's hand, running his thumb across the palm. "Where would you like to go?"

Wei Ying gives it some thought before answering, honestly, "I'm not sure. I guess anywhere would be fine, as long as we're together."

It feels like he has said too much. He's done an admirable job, he thinks, of dating Lan Zhan for over a month without the words 'I love you' slipping out of his always chattering mouth. But some days, the words just burn where they are lodged in his throat, itching to be set free. Lan Zhan must know by now, surely, that Wei Ying loves him—there's no way he could miss the obvious affection that bubbles out of Wei Ying every time he opens his mouth.

Someday—someday soon—Wei Ying will tell him. He just needs to wait for the perfect moment. Maybe with fireworks or a choir singing or under a waterfall. Whenever the "right time" is, Wei Ying will know.

And he'll tell Lan Zhan everything.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying grins into one fluffy white pillow of the hotel bed. It's funny that a year ago, hotel pillows would be an ultra-rare treat but, now, he's grown so accustomed to the pristine white, marshmallow-soft pillows on Lan Zhan's bed that he's a bit disappointed when he inhales and doesn't get a whiff of sandalwood. It doesn't matter though, because Lan Zhan is right here beside him and it is:

Their first! Romantic!! Getaway!!! TOGETHER!!!!

Wei Ying is still riding that high of the giddy excitement of going somewhere new, seeing interesting things for the first time, eating way too much delicious food, and sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. And! He gets to do all of this with Lan Zhan, his favorite person in the world! They took off work early and drove five hours to be here. Arriving just after dusk, Wei Ying all but collapsed onto the bed once he tossed his bag down. He will undoubtedly sleep like a rock tonight, which will give him the energy he needs tomorrow when they go explore what all the town has to offer.

There's a sound of wood scraping against wood, followed by rustling. Flinging himself onto his back, Wei Ying fails to hold back a laugh when he sees Lan Zhan placing his neatly folded clothes into the dresser. Lan Zhan hits him with a good ol' side-eye, and he continues putting away his things as if they will be staying for a month.

"Lan Zhaaaan!" Wei Ying calls in his sweetest I'm trying so hard not to laugh at you voice. "We're staying for two nights! And who actually unpacks their bag when they're on vacation? You're supposed to live out of your suitcase like an animal, realizing on the second day of your vacation that you only packed one pair of socks and now you have to either find a place that sells socks or wash them in the sink every night. And then, you realize your phone battery is at three percent and you forgot to pack a charger, so you're going to have to find a store anyway, but then your phone dies, so you can't even look up how to get to a store!"

"Are you speaking from experience?" Lan Zhan asks while refolding a white t-shirt.

"Well, no. Not my personal experience. But everyone forgets something when they're packing up for vacation."

Lan Zhan places the shirt in the drawer, turning his attention to unpacking the toiletries he brought (and which Wei Ying plans to borrow, since he himself never thinks to bring his bathroom stuff). "That is why I made a checklist."

He pulls out two toothbrush holders, one blue and one red, and Wei Ying has never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as he wants to kiss his super serious, over-prepared, packed-six-days-worth-of-clothes-for-a-three-day-trip boyfriend. "Come here," he says, patting a spot on the mattress in front of him.

After setting things in the bathroom, Lan Zhan comes to sit on the edge of the bed. Wei Ying threads their fingers together, bringing their joined hands up to brush his lips against Lan Zhan's knuckles. He keeps Lan Zhan there while making eye contact, and when he glances at Lan Zhan's ears, he is unsurprised, but still very much pleased, to see that they are turning pink.

He decides to have a bit more fun at Lan Zhan's expense.

"Ah, Lan Zhan. I'll bet you gather all the linens up for housekeeping before you leave. You'll probably even bag up the trash for them."

"Is there a problem with making things easier for the hotel staff?"

"No," Wei Ying laughs. "Not at all. It's cute that you're so considerate! It's why I love…uh… It's why I love spending time with you!"

Whew, close call. Wei Ying still hasn't found The Moment to tell Lan Zhan how he really feels, and it would be just his luck to fuck up by blurting it out loud in the middle of a random conversation. He isn't sure how much longer he can hold it in, though. Every time he sees Lan Zhan, he just wants to…

"We should find a place to eat," Lan Zhan says, interrupting Wei Ying's spiraling thoughts. "You said you were hungry in the car."

"Yeah, well. I said a lot of things in the car," Wei Ying petulantly replies. He rolls onto his back once more, spreading his limbs out like a starfish. "I'm too tired, er-gege. You'll have to carry me there."

"If that is what you wish."

An aborted scream leaves Wei Ying because how the fuck did he get the single best boyfriend on the planet?! "You can't just say things like that!" he squawks.

His shirt has ridden up with all his shifting around on the bed, and Lan Zhan's warm hand settles on the strip of skin left exposed. "Why not?"

"Because you'll spoil me," Wei Ying whines. "You're gonna turn me into a brat, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

"You are already a brat."

"Wha—hey!" Wei Ying pushes himself up onto his elbows. "What did I do to deserve that label?"

"You made fun of me for unpacking. You made fun of me in the car because I refused to make an illegal u-turn. You kept skipping songs halfway through, even though this playlist was, and I quote, 'hand-selected specifically for this trip! Nothing but bangers from start to finish!'"

Wei Ying sputters. "Well, did I lie?! It was full of bangers!"

"I wouldn't know," Lan Zhan says drily. "I didn't get to listen to most of them."

"We'll take my car next time, and we can see just how good you are at DJing!" (Lan Zhan will undoubtedly be the best DJ to ever ride in Wei Ying's car. He understands Wei Ying's tastes, and his musical knowledge knows no bounds.) "You think I'm a brat? Fine. I'll show you just how bratty I can be. Kiss me."

Lan Zhan leans down to meet Wei Ying in a tender kiss, undoubtedly feeling the smile spreading across Wei Ying's face. Wei Ying buries his hands in Lan Zhan's hair, subtly—but purposefully—messing up his braid. He pretends to be simply lost in the moment, which. Okay. Yes. Kissing Lan Zhan is already proving to be very distracting. But he does manage to pull a few strands loose while sucking on Lan Zhan's tongue.

Without so much as a sigh, Lan Zhan pulls out the hair tie at the bottom of his braid. Wei Ying chuckles at the small victory and picks out piece after piece of hair. Lan Zhan kisses his way down the column of Wei Ying's throat, then follows the hem of his shirt. He sucks bruises here and there, and yes. Distracting.

Wei Ying tugs on Lan Zhan's waist while spreading his legs, urging him to lie down on top of him. Lan Zhan's weight is warm and safe, like a weighted blanket, and he kisses Wei Ying as if he wants to devour him on the spot. He gives Wei Ying every ounce of his attention, and it would be so easy for Wei Ying to get carried away.

In fact, he does get a bit swept up in the moment. For a while, his hands cup Lan Zhan's ass without any thoughts other than wanting to get him out of these jeans. As he squeezes and gropes, however, he feels his target.

"Mm, fuck, Lan Zhan," he moans, nine parts because he can't help it and one part subterfuge. He plays it cool, casually sliding his hand into Lan Zhan's back pocket.

If Lan Zhan notices his wallet being smoothly slid out of his pocket, he doesn't say anything.

Wei Ying can't help but be a bit disappointed in the lack of reaction. That just means he will have to work harder.

He kneads the firm globes of Lan Zhan's ass, working his way toward his hips. Bringing one hand up to cup his face, the other hand slips into Lan Zhan's front pocket, pulling out his phone. This time, Lan Zhan catches Wei Ying's hand by the wrist. He pulls back, pinning Wei Ying to the spot with his disapproving glare.

"I was just—Hey!"

Before Wei Ying can process what's happening, Lan Zhan is turning him over roughly. His shirt is yanked over his head, and his pants and underwear are likewise inelegantly removed.

"Lan Zhan, I was only jok—"

He's cut off by a sharp cracking sound, and it takes a long moment for the sting to register.

"Ahh?!"

The left side of his ass feels hot, and a familiar shame wells up inside him.

"Lan Zhan, it was just—"

Smack!

"OUCH! Lan Zhan! Please don't—"

Smack!

On hands and knees with his ass in the air, Wei Ying tries to reason with him, but Lan Zhan is intent on inflicting violence on Wei Ying's backside. He delivers blow after open-palmed blow, easily holding Wei Ying down with a hand on the back of the neck when he tries to squirm away. After about a half dozen smacks, he switches to gently massaging the abused flesh.

Wei Ying tries to sit up on his knees, but Lan Zhan doesn't let him move an inch until he gives up on trying to wriggle away. Then, he releases him. "Wait here."

As if that's gonna happen. As soon as Lan Zhan is off the bed, Wei Ying makes a break for it, turning over. He winces at the sharp pain as he sits. "Ha, ha. I've learned my lesson now."

And if he pouts about it… Well. That's his business and his business alone.

Lan Zhan returns to the bed, naked, with lube, a towel, and a scowl. "I told you to stay put."

"And I didn't want to," Wei Ying answers, flicking his ponytail over his shoulder. "You can't just—"

Apparently, Lan Zhan can. He lunges for Wei Ying, and they wrestle for a minute or so until Wei Ying finds himself on his stomach with Lan Zhan's legs straddling his thighs. The position forces the erection Wei Ying did not know he was sporting to be pushed into the mattress and fuuuck. Wei Ying stops fighting and allows Lan Zhan to pin his wrists behind his back with one hand. The other hand delivers another stinging slap to the right cheek, and Wei Ying hates how much it simultaneously humiliates him and turns him on to have nowhere to run when Lan Zhan spanks him like a misbehaving child.

It doesn't stop after one smack. Lan Zhan alternates sides, laying slap after slap on Wei Ying's rear. It smarts, and Wei Ying begs for him to stop while internally praying for him to keep going. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes as Lan Zhan lovingly caresses the bright red, abused skin.

"Th-that's enough now…"

"Is it?" Lan Zhan's fingers dig into Wei Ying's sore bottom cruelly. "Have you learned your lesson?"

"Mm-hmm." Wei Ying nods fervently. "I'll be good. I swear it on my life."

Slick fingers stroke along his crack, tracing the rim of his asshole. Wei Ying tries to push back, but he has no leverage. So, he has no choice but to squirm as Lan Zhan teases him.

"Why should I believe you?"

Wei Ying groans. "Because you...like me? Because I'm your favorite boyfriend?"

"You are my only boyfriend," Lan Zhan points out. The hand not teasing Wei Ying's entrance pushes his ponytail off to one side so that he can lay a few unhurried kisses along the side of his neck.

"Then, fuck me," Wei Ying says breathlessly. "Put it in. Make me take it. Fuck me until I can't walk. Please, Lan Zhan."

"You sound pretty when you beg." Lan Zhan's teeth dig into Wei Ying's skin, pebbled with goosebumps. "You are lucky I've been holding myself back all day and I don't think I can go much longer without being inside you."

"Yes, yes, yes," chants Wei Ying. He moans when his ass swallows two of Lan Zhan's fingers. "Oh...fuck."

"I could take you just like this," Lan Zhan whispers against the shell of Wei Ying's ear. "But I will be nice and give you some time to get used to it."

"I… I can take it," Wei Ying breathes. "Try me."

"No."

"But—"

Lan Zhan eases a third finger inside. "You will take as much, or as little, as I want to give you."

His fingers curl, searching, and Wei Ying's cock pulses as they press against his prostate. "I'm ready," he whines. "Lan Zhan, really. I learned my lesson. I want—"

"I did not ask what you want." Lan Zhan's fingers move slowly in and out of Wei Ying, dragging all manner of embarrassing noises out of him.

"Please," he moans. "Lan Zhan, I'll be so good. I promise I've changed my ways. I'll—"

Working a fourth finger inside of him, Lan Zhan is not moved by Wei Ying's pleading.

"That's—ah—enough!" Wei Ying whines. "Please, please, please, Lan Zhan! I haven't caused trouble in, like, three minutes. That's gotta count for something!"

"Mn." Lan Zhan withdraws his fingers, and Wei Ying can hear the pop of a cap and the wet squelching of lube being spread. The anticipation makes his whole body feel hot and tingly as Lan Zhan knocks his legs apart with his knees and pulls his hips up.

Lan Zhan's fingers dig into Wei Ying's hip, as he guides his cock into place. He pushes into Wei Ying slowly, carefully. It's not what Wei Ying needs or wants.

"M-more," he gasps. "Lan Zhan…I… I can take more."

"I know you can," Lan Zhan murmurs soothingly.

"Bas…tard…" Wei Ying brings a hand between his legs, trying to release some of the pressure building within him.

Lan Zhan catches him by the wrist, twisting his arm behind his back.

"What?! Why can't I touch?!"

Lan Zhan wraps Wei Ying's ponytail around his fist, forcing his back into a steep arch. "Because you are a brat."

"Nooooo," Wei Ying wails. "We, uh, talked about this! I'll behave!"

Leaning over to bite the shell of Wei Ying's ear, Lan Zhan asks, his voice low and smooth, "Is my cock not enough for you?"

"It is!" Wei Ying struggles against Lan Zhan's hold, but his grip is like iron. "Lan Zhan, please!"

"You can come whenever you want," Lan Zhan murmurs. "Just. Like. This." Each word is punctuated by a long, deep thrust.

"I…"

Resting on one elbow, Wei Ying's arm shakes beneath his weight. He's so close, so close, so…

He just needs a little bit more to push him over.

"If I'm a brat, then why don't you fuck me like a brat?" he challenges.

Lan Zhan's hips slam into Wei Ying's ass at a ruthless pace, and he drives into him harder with every thrust. One hand holds Wei Ying's hair while the other keeps his arm pinned, leaving him helpless but to relax and accept whatever Lan Zhan wishes to give him. Every nerve ending in his body seems to be firing off at once, pleasure suffusing his entire being until the only two things he knows are Lan Zhan and Lan Zhan's dick. Sobbing into a pillow, he tenses and jerks as it pulls him under, coming all over the towel Lan Zhan strategically placed under him somewhere in the midst of destroying him.

Wei Ying collapses, held up only by Lan Zhan's hands keeping him in place. Rutting into him with no concern for the fact that everything is too raw and sensitive, Lan Zhan fucks Wei Ying like he hates him, like he wants to ruin him, like he doesn't care about him at all. He bites into the nape of Wei Ying's neck as he comes, carving the shape of his teeth into Wei Ying's skin, and another mini-orgasm ripples through Wei Ying's body—he hadn't even known he could come twice in a row.

Breathing hard and sweetly kissing the spot he bit, Lan Zhan helps Wei Ying lie down without allowing him to flop as he would were he left to his own devices. The come-soaked towel sticks to him uncomfortably, but it's going to be a long time before Wei Ying gathers his wits enough to care about the mess. He can't even find the strength to turn his head so that the pillow doesn't smother him—Lan Zhan helps him adjust to avoid suffocation.

Fucked out of his mind and, for once in his life, unable to speak, he hovers somewhere between reality and zen as Lan Zhan cleans him up and maneuvers him under the blankets, tucking him in. Wei Ying must fall asleep at some point because Lan Zhan wakes him some time later when the room service arrives, gently coaxing Wei Ying over to the small table by the bay window. Little by little, his brain comes back online, and he happily slurps up noodles while teasing Lan Zhan for his choice of dinner ("Who eats salad on vacation, you dork?!").

After dinner, they shower and ready themselves for bed, and Wei Ying is so exhausted that he falls asleep before Lan Zhan, the man with a nine p.m. bedtime on weekends. But traveling always seems to sap his energy, and they have a long, fun day ahead of them tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Lan Zhan closes his eyes, categorizing all of the things he can feel:

The soft scraping of linen sheets beneath him.

The mattress against the back of his knees as he sits on the edge of the bed.

Wei Ying's arms around his neck, his fingers idly toying with the hair at the nape of Lan Zhan's neck.

Wei Ying's tongue, slick and inviting, playing tag with Lan Zhan's because he's a brat who can't help but cause mischief, no matter how petty.

Wei Ying's soft skin, smooth everywhere Lan Zhan touches.

Wei Ying's ass in his lap, putting pressure on his straining dick.

Blinding love, bright as supernova, threatening to burst from Lan Zhan at any minute.

As soon as they finished cleaning up after dinner, Wei Ying had asked Lan Zhan with a coy smirk, "Care to go to the bedroom?"

And Lan Zhan, of course, had followed as if on a tether as Wei Ying took him by the hand and guided him down the hall. Clothes were shed, and Lan Zhan grabbed Wei Ying's wrist, ready to shove him onto the bed face first—but Wei Ying stopped him, seating him on the bed and crawling into his lap sidesaddle.

They make out like this for a long time, enjoying the ride, neither in any hurry to get to a predetermined destination. Eventually, Lan Zhan turns them around, laying Wei Ying out as if preparing a feast. Reaching into the bedside drawer, he pulls out a familiar stretch of ribbon, which he uses to secure Wei Ying's hands, tying them to the headboard. Then, he kisses his way down Wei Ying's body, tongue tracing every line and curve.

Wei Ying babbles, telling Lan Zhan what feels good—not that Lan Zhan needs any guidance after so many months of exploring this terrain. "Ah, shit, yes. Right there. Oh, fuck. Lan Zhan…"

Lan Zhan bites into the muscle of Wei Ying's inner thigh, sucking a bruise there before getting up to make a quick detour of fetching the lube. Uncapping it, he pours it onto his fingers, shoving Wei Ying's legs farther apart. He slides two inside him while simultaneously taking his cock into his mouth, which makes Wei Ying cry out as if in agony.

"Yes, yes, yes," he chants. "God fucking shit, Lan Zhan. You're so good at that. You're gonna make me come too soon. Ha, then you, fuck, won't get a chance to have your…f-fun."

Carried away on the wind of Wei Ying's voice, Lan Zhan feels that every word makes him want to strive harder to turn him into an incoherent mess. He hollows his cheeks while his tongue massages the underside of Wei Ying's cock, which makes Wei Ying choke and sputter.

"L-Lan Zhan," he pants. "Hey, c'mon. Why don't you f…fu…fuuuck… Fuck me now…?"

It's terribly tempting. Lan Zhan's fingers massage Wei Ying's prostate, and his dick twitches heavily in Lan Zhan's throat, swelling. It won't take much more. A very deliberate swirl of the tongue makes Wei Ying's back arch up off the bed, his bound hands straining against the headboard as he comes.

Lan Zhan drinks every drop, only slightly backing off after swallowing the final drops. He turns his attention to teasing the shaft with his tongue, tracing the thick vein still twitching and sensitive. Melting into the mattress, Wei Ying is breathing hard, and his mouth is slowing down—but never silent.

"Shit…fucking…fuck…hell," he gasps. "Lan Zhan, you win. I…can't take any more."

It's not worth it, in Lan Zhan's opinion, to remove his mouth to argue that Wei Ying can take much more than this and will indeed have no choice but to endure. Instead, he draws each of Wei Ying's balls into his mouth in turn, gently massaging them with his tongue while his fingers pump in and out of him slowly. It's just enough to keep Wei Ying hard, and Lan Zhan is more than happy to take advantage of the fact that Wei Ying is all trussed up and unable to defend himself. Letting his balls go with a wet pop, he presses a kiss to the base of his cock, then another just above it. He continues this until he reaches the tip, which he taps with his tongue.

"God…damn…it…." Wei Ying whines and squirms, and the wood of the headboard groans as he thrashes around. "Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan… Let me go, yeah? Let me return the favor?"

He gets no response save for Lan Zhan's tongue teasing the slit.

"Please…please… I'll make it so good. It's not f…fair to have you on your knees like this. Let me, fuck, touch you."

Lan Zhan pops off just enough to say:

"No."

Wei Ying's legs tighten around Lan Zhan's shoulders as he takes his cock into his mouth again, gently sucking on the tip. Pushing a third finger inside while simultaneously swallowing to the root, Lan Zhan savors the way Wei Ying sobs around his name, and he spends a long moment simply savoring the choked up pleas that follow. Lan Zhan doesn't move his hand, doesn't press against Wei Ying's insides; he simply keeps him on edge until deciding it's time to lovingly coax the second release out of him by working his throat in a way that has been honed with months of practice.

"Lan Zhan! Oh my god!" he shouts, his hips straining against Lan Zhan's hand holding them down. "You're so...mean. Pretending not to hear what I say when I tell you I can't…can't take…any more…"

Lan Zhan patiently swallows, milking him for every drop he can get before releasing him to the lightly mouth at the shaft some more. The direction of Wei Ying's rambling turns abruptly from bemoaning Lan Zhan's cruelty to praising him.

"Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan… Fuck! You're so pretty, Lan Zhan. It's not fair. Why are you so…so hot. You're so out of my league it's not even funny."

Eyes narrowing, Lan Zhan swallows him down again, making Wei Ying yelp. And thus, Lan Zhan begins anew his mission to take Wei Ying apart piece by piece.

"Okay, okay. I… But it is seriously unfair that you're fucking gorgeous and smart and funny and a fucking god in bed. I'm taking your ass to court to sue you for damages."

Ridiculous, Lan Zhan thinks.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!" Wei Ying cries. He continues to struggle against the restraints, but it's obvious that his arms are getting tired. His cock swells in Lan Zhan's mouth as he comes a third time.

"You're gonna have to deal with me telling you how beautiful and funny and sexy and amazing you are," Wei Ying says, the words coming out in a slurred, slightly jumbled rush. "Don't like it? Ha, tough! It's what you get for making me fall in love with you."

Lan Zhan freezes. He doesn't believe his own ears.

"Shit!" This time, Wei Ying's orgasm is accompanied by just a trickle of come, which settles lightly on Lan Zhan's tongue as he listens to Wei Ying attempt to save face. "I didn't—I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that…but…"

He tries to hide his blushing face in his shoulder while he takes a deep breath. There are tears standing in the corners of his eyes. He takes a deep, resigned breath.

"It's true. Lan Zhan, I love you. I don't want to be with anyone else because, fuck, who would even begin to compare? Don't be mad at me, please! I know it's—it's probably way too soon—and it's no pressure if you don't feel the same! I just—I wanted you to know. Because I can't keep it in any more and… I love you, Lan Zhan! I do, I—I—"

Lan Zhan folds Wei Ying's body in half in his rush to kiss him, hard and bruising and desperate. When he pulls away, Wei Ying turns his head, avoiding eye contact. Curling his clean hand around Wei Ying's chin, Lan Zhan gently turns his head, forcing Wei Ying to look at him.

"Wei Ying." His cheeks strain as his mouth stretches into a wide (by his standards) smile. "I love you, too."

"Hah—really?!" Wei Ying gapes at Lan Zhan as if he has just announced he is from another planet.

"Yes," Lan Zhan assures him, pressing a kiss to the center of his forehead. "Really."

It takes a few seconds for the disbelief clouding Wei Ying's face to dissipate. He laughs. "You love me! You love me!! You love me!!!"

"More than anything." A heavy weight falls off of Lan Zhan's chest with the admission. "Wei Ying… I love you."

Each repetition makes Lan Zhan's heart feel a bit lighter. So, he says it again.

"I love you."

And again.

"I love you."

Wei Ying's eyes are tearing up again. "Fuck, Lan Zhan. You'll kill me. Dead. I'm already dead."

He flops onto the bed dramatically, closing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. Lan Zhan laughs, and Wei Ying immediately springs back to life.

"Lan Zhan! First you say you love me. Then, you laugh! Are you sure you're the real Lan Zhan?"

"Mn." Pushing his hand into Wei Ying's hair, Lan Zhan brings their lips together, tasting Wei Ying slowly and thoroughly. There's no need to rush…because Wei Ying loves him. "I am really me."

Wei Ying hums as if he is reluctant to believe him. "Well, if you're the real Lan Zhan, that means you're gonna have to put up with me forever."

"Mn. Gladly."

Squealing, Wei Ying nips Lan Zhan's lower lip. "I mean it, Lan Zhan. Forever. There's no 'return to sender' option when you have my love."

"Good." Lan Zhan kisses him again. He loves this ridiculous man so much. "I have no plans to give it back."

Burying his face in Wei Ying's shoulder, Lan Zhan breathes in his scent. He smells like the sandalwood body wash in Lan Zhan's shower, but there's something sweet and earthy beneath it that Lan Zhan wants to encode in his body's memory. He loves him. So much.

And Wei Ying loves him! He tells Lan Zhan as much, over and over again between kisses. His joy is contagious, or maybe he's catching it from Lan Zhan. Either way, both their bodies vibrate with laughter as they hold each other tightly, clinging to one another like tangled up vines.

The kisses grow slower, lingering. Wei Ying's legs wind around Lan Zhan's waist, and Lan Zhan brings a hand down to grip the thigh on that side. They hold each other's gaze, heat sparking between them. Taking both their cocks in one hand, Lan Zhan does not tease or draw things out. They have forever ahead of them. He also doesn't rush, relishing each shift in Wei Ying's expression and the way his body squirms beneath Lan Zhan's.

"It's…fuck…" Wei Ying's voice is thick with emotion. He is undoubtedly oversensitive, having come three times already.

"Just a bit more," Lan Zhan reassures him. "I'm almost there."

"M-me, too," Wei Ying sobs. "Lan Zhan, I can't—I can't—"

"You can." Lan Zhan kisses him. "One more time. Please. For me."

Wei Ying's head falls heavily onto to the pillow. His cock pulses in Lan Zhan's hand, hot and heavy, but nothing comes out this time. Stroking faster, Lan Zhan can barely hold himself up as the love and pleasure building within him hits critical mass. He's overflowing, his feelings spilling over and blurring his vision, and if he dies in this moment, he will have achieved everything he could have ever wanted.

The wet slide of his cock against Wei Ying's is almost unbearable in its intensity, but Lan Zhan powers through til the end, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he finally begins to come down. His vision is swimming, his chest heaving against Wei Ying's, who is also breathing hard, and the air around them seems to buzz with electricity. Wei Ying is a silent, wide-eyed, fucked-out puddle, and Lan Zhan can't believe it's possible to love someone with this much potency.

Lan Zhan wipes his hand on the bedding like some kind of heathen, but getting up and out of the bed to grab a towel is not an option at the moment. Wei Ying waits patiently for his hands to be freed, and, rolling to the side, Lan Zhan gathers him up in his arms, cradling him to his chest, lips pressed against his crown as he massages his wrists.

"Love…you…" Lan Zhan says, once he is able to get some oxygen into his lungs. "Love you so much. Wei Ying."

Wei Ying is panting, but he laughs, a weak, shaky thing. "Haha, yeah. God, I love you so fucking much."

Their skin sticks together with cooling sweat and come. Gross. Lan Zhan can't find the strength to move. So, showering will have to wait a minute.

"I love you," they say at the same time.

"Jinx!" Wei Ying's eyes are filled with glee as he pinches and pokes and claims that Lan Zhan owes him a soda.

"Are you thirsty? Should I bring you a drink now?" Lan Zhan asks, serious.

"No, don't leave me!" Wei Ying throws an arm and a leg around Lan Zhan, pulling him closer. "I love you, and you don't owe me a thing."

With that, they settle back into their embrace, exchanging lazy kisses as the day melts into the night.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying is nervous.

When he visits Lan Zhan, or vice versa, it is always discussed beforehand. They did not make plans for Wei Ying to visit today, but he finished work earlier than expected and he thought…

Surprising Lan Zhan seemed like a great idea when Wei Ying was leaving work. Now that he is on Lan Zhan's front porch, he can't help but second-guess himself. He stares at the key pinched between his thumb and index finger, poised to be pushed into the lock, but maybe he should just go home and text Lan Zhan to see if he's even free tonight.

When he gave Wei Ying the key, Lan Zhan said, I want you to know that you are always welcome in my home.

Does that extend to random drop-ins? Or did he really mean You are always welcome in my home IF we have made prior arrangements…?

But then again…

Lan Zhan also said that he loves Wei Ying. And surely it's not a crime for someone you love to stop by for a surprise visit. Right?

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," Wei Ying says, shaking his head. "You're being stupid."

With that, he eases the key into the lock and quietly lets himself in. He freezes when he hears voices coming from the direction of the living room. Holding his breath to hear better, he can make out the sound of Lan Zhan's low, soothing voice.

"I love him, and…" There's a long pause, and Wei Ying's heart beats a tiny bit faster. He wills it to shut up so that he can listen. "He said he loves me."

"I told you!" Lan Huan exclaims (but not loudly). "Huaisang says he's never seen him so enamored with someone."

"Gossiping is forbidden," Lan Zhan says with a note of petulance.

"We weren't gossiping. We were concerned."

"Still."

"So…" Wei Ying can hear the smile in Lan Huan's voice. "When's the wedding?"

"Ge!" It's the closest Wei Ying has heard Lan Zhan come to shouting at a person who is not Wei Ying (the younger version of Wei Ying; the version that delighted in pushing all of Lan Zhan's buttons).

"I need to keep my calendar open for that day," Lan Huan says slyly. "I'll need to have my best tuxedo on standby. Please tell me that I can be the best man."

Wedding? Wei Ying's stomach swoops. He'd never considered—never thought—would Lan Zhan even want that?!

Deciding that he does not want to hear Lan Zhan's thoughts on getting married, Wei Ying closes the door a little bit louder than usual. He calls out, "Lan Zhan?" while heading toward the living room, making his presence known.

Lan Zhan is seated on the couch, and Lan Huan, with a cup of tea in hand, is in the nearest armchair. Pushing a lock of hair behind his ear and adjusting the strap of his overnight bag, he gives Lan Zhan an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I wanted to surprise you, but I didn't know you had company. I can go—"

"No, no!" Lan Huan places his cup on a coaster. "I could leave."

Wei Ying waves his hands. "Really, there's no need for that! I'll just—"

Lan Zhan is already standing and taking Wei Ying's bag as Wei Ying tries to talk his way out of the awkward situation of his own making.

"Stay."

He puts Wei Ying's bag on the floor at the end of the couch. Then, he takes one of Wei Ying's hands in both of his own and, looking at him with an affectionate gaze that is downright devastating, he repeats. "Stay."

"Oh, uh… Okay. Yeah…" Wei Ying lets himself be led to the couch.

Lan Zhan sits beside him, close enough that their shoulders brush. Settling back into his seat, Lan Huan hides a knowing grin behind his cup, and Wei Ying can't help feeling slightly embarrassed. Are brothers normally this supportive? Jiang Cheng threatened just this morning to break Wei Ying's legs if he didn't shut up about "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan fucking Zhan! It's all you ever fucking talk about!"

"We were actually just getting ready to play," Lan Huan says, picking up a small black case by his feet. He pulls out a smooth white xiao and brings it to his lips, blowing lightly over the mouthpiece.

"Aw, man!" Wei Wuxian flops over dramatically. "I should have brought my dizi along."

"I'm sure A-Zhan has one you can borrow. Although, I suppose it isn't my place to offer."

Lan Zhan hasn't sat down yet. "Mn. I will go get it."

Wei Ying leaps to his feet. "I'll go with you!"

In the past, he has only gotten a peek of the music room from the hallway. It's much bigger than it appeared from the outside, and Wei Ying's eyes sparkle at all the antique Chinese instruments displayed on the walls. He's afraid to touch anything, but that doesn't stop him from getting up close and personal with a beautiful pipa which Lan Zhan, seeing his interest, takes down and plucks a few notes from.

"Wow, so talented!" Wei Ying claps his hands together as Lan Zhan puts the pipa back on its stand. "But I'm not surprised. I remember baby Lan Zhan playing harp for our high school orchestra and nagging me anytime my playing was too sharp. Think of how that could've hurt my feelings, Lan Zhan! Luckily, I never took it to heart. I knew I could never measure up to someone like you, who was basically already playing at the professional level."

"I was no more advanced than you were," Lan Zhan says, gesturing to a dizi made of fucking jade that Wei Ying is very careful in picking up. "You just knew it annoyed me when you purposely played squeaky notes."

"Ha! So maybe I did have a little fun making mistakes to irritate you."

Wei Ying takes one last look around before following Lan Zhan back to the living room. Lan Huan is playing a descending scale, and his eyes light up as Lan Zhan and Wei Ying round the corner. Lan Zhan settles himself in front of a guqin that Wei Ying hadn't noticed set up before, and the three of them play together for nearly an hour before they are interrupted by a timer going off in the kitchen.

Lan Zhan places a hand over the guqin strings, gently silencing them, and stands. "I made soup."

Moving to the dining room, Lan Zhan serves them each a bowl of cabbage soup. Like everything Lan Zhan cooks, it is delicious, and Wei Ying downs three bowls. Lan Zhan never speaks during meals, which Wei Ying assumed was due to Lan Zhan being quiet in general, but Lan Huan is also silent. It must be some kind of family rule. Luckily, Wei Ying is more than capable of carrying a conversation for three people.

"I should head home," Lan Huan says as Lan Zhan takes his empty bowl to the kitchen. "Mingjue will be expecting me. Thank you both for a lovely evening."

Lan Zhan walks him to the door, and, although Lan Huan speaks low enough that Wei Ying can't make out the words, there's a teasing lilt to them. Lan Zhan gives no reply.

When Lan Zhan returns to the living room, Wei Ying is sprawled across the sofa. "Lan Zhaaaan," he whines. "I'm too full of soup!"

"My apologies," Lan Zhan says with a smirk, seating himself in front of the guqin again. He plays a few notes, his long, graceful fingers deftly picking at the strings.

Wei Ying watches him fondly for a moment. Then, an idea comes to him:

"Lan Zhan! Do you take requests?"

"For you, yes."

"Then play me… your favorite song!"

Lan Zhan's pale golden eyes are raised to meet Wei Ying's. "You want to hear my favorite song?"

"Yeah! In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of obsessed with you. And you are legally obligated to tell your boyfriend every single thing you like."

"Mn. Very well."

Lan Zhan lifts his hands and begins to play a soft, slow song that might be the single best piece of music Wei Ying has ever head in his lifetime. Then, Lan Zhan begins to sing!

His voice is low and resonant as he hums a melody above the strings, and Wei Ying is enraptured. He hangs onto every note until the end, and it's only when the song stops that Wei Ying realizes he has been holding his breath. He already wants to hear it again. He wants to listen to it on repeat until he memorizes every tone.

Lowering his hands, Lan Zhan watches Wei Ying expectantly. For once, it takes Wei Ying a long time to find his words.

"It's… Wow…" He gives Lan Zhan a rare, soft smile, and holds his arms out.

Lan Zhan stands to join him on the couch, and Wei Ying immediately crawls into his lap, burying his face in the soft, baby blue Henley Lan Zhan is wearing.

"Who wrote it?" Wei Ying asks.

Lan Zhan is silent for so long that Wei Ying looks up questioningly. Shifting uncomfortably, Lan Zhan replies, "I did."

"You—Seriously?!" Wei Ying's jaw drops. "You wrote that?! I mean, I know you're talented, but damn. I hope you're willing to share because now it's my favorite song, too."

Lan Zhan's hand gripping the back of Wei Ying's t-shirt tightens.

"When did you write it?"

"A while ago," Lan Zhan smoothly answers.

"That's… Lan Zhan, you know that's not an answer!"

Lan Zhan hums noncommittally.

"Fine." Wei Ying pouts. "Has anyone else heard it?"

"No. It is… personal."

"Why not?" It's a shame that such a musical treasure has been withheld from the world, but a small part of Wei Ying glows with the knowledge that the song belongs to him and Lan Zhan alone. "What's the story behind it?"

Lan Zhan tucks a strand of hair behind Wei Ying's ear and studies his face as if he is expecting Wei Ying to laugh at him. "I'll tell you some other time."

"What?!" Flailing his arms and legs as much as he can without falling off of Lan Zhan's lap, Wei Ying whines. "I wanna know now…"

"It is a long and complicated story."

"Yeah, and?" Wei Ying cranes his neck to look at the clock on the wall. It's not even seven yet. "We have plenty of time ahead of us."

"Mn. And I have ideas for how to use that time."

Before Wei Ying can complain, Lan Zhan leans forward, slotting their lips together. Wei Ying is not thrilled that his questions are being soundly ignored, but he is happy to set them aside for the time being as Lan Zhan stands and carries him to the bedroom. They undress each other slowly, their hands reverently caressing every inch of skin as it is uncovered. Wei Ying smiles against Lan Zhan's mouth, brimming with sappy feelings that—

Oh yeah, right. He can give voice to them now.

"I love you, Lan Zhan," he says as Lan Zhan mouths at the side of his neck. "So much. God, I love you."

"Love Wei Ying," Lan Zhan murmurs, moving on to Wei Ying's collarbone. He drags his hand, which had been resting on Wei Ying's thigh, upward, fingers circling Wei Ying's cock. He gives it a few slow, leisurely pumps.

Wei Ying falls back on his elbows, his eyes drifting closed. Lan Zhan loves him. It doesn't feel real. Someone like Lan Zhan shouldn't be able to love a gremlin like Wei Ying.

Thankfully, Lan Zhan can't hear Wei Ying's doubts. A part of Wei Ying fears that drawing attention to it might make Lan Zhan reconsider things, which— The whole idea is silly, really. Lan Zhan is a grown man; he can choose for himself whom he does and doesn't love.

Slick fingers find his entrance, and Wei Ying is unable to think about anything else. Lan Zhan opens him slowly, searchingly, while murmuring I love you between kisses. It's so much more than Wei Ying deserves. He feels himself tearing up at the gentle treatment and has to wipe his eyes and hope that Lan Zhan won't ask any questions.

After a while, Lan Zhan guides Wei Ying so that he is lying on his side, still propped up on his elbow. Straddling Wei Ying's left leg, he lifts the right one and drapes it over his hip while Wei Ying's right arm comes to rest on Lan Zhan's shoulder. He enters him in one slow, smooth glide, and Wei Ying thinks, not for the first time, that they fit together really, really well.

He's so…

Happy.

"Lan Zhan?"

Lan Zhan squeezes Wei Ying's thigh. "Mn?"

"Do you promise you love me?"

"Of course." Lan Zhan says. His mouth is curled in a small smile that melts Wei Ying's already liquid heart.

"Prove it," he says, just to be difficult. Just to…

No one has ever chosen Wei Ying before.

Lan Zhan leans a bit closer and whispers, "I wrote you a song."

Wei Ying gapes at him with wide eyes. "Lan Zhan…?!"

"Mn." He nods once, and there's a faint glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes that Wei Ying just—

He can't—

Lan Zhan—

"You wrote—for… me? Was it… that song?"

"Yes."

Lan Zhan rolls his hips, slowly fucking into Wei Ying with unconcealed fondness written all over his face. He leans over to kiss him, and it drives his cock in deeper, hitting a spot that makes Wei Ying see stars.

"Ohh… Fuck! Does… does this mean you wrote the song, ah, fairly recently?"

"No."

Leaning in, Lan Zhan kisses Wei Ying with aching tenderness. It pushes Wei Ying's knee into his chest, and the stretch, the closeness, the everything feels so fucking good.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Did you write it when we started dating?"

"No."

"Before we started dating?!"

"Mn." Lan Zhan's ears have turned an adorable shade of pink.

Wei Ying huffs out a laugh as Lan Zhan moves within him. He can't believe what he's hearing. "You mean to tell me that you wrote that song while we were fuckbuddies?!"

Unbelievable. Wei Ying had spent months agonizing over the fact that he was in love with Lan Zhan. He had assumed it was entirely one-sided, but…!

Lan Zhan wrote him a song.

Lan Zhan wrote him the best song.

Lan Zhan's lips thin into a tight line for a few seconds. Then, he says, "No."

Wei Ying is still reeling over learning that he and Lan Zhan might be idiots. It takes a while for his brain to catch up with the implication. Gasping, he grabs onto Lan Zhan's shoulder and asks, "Lan Zhan… Are you telling me… Do you mean to say… that you wrote this song before we started hooking up?"

The flush on Lan Zhan's earlobes is spreading. He nods.

Wei Ying's licks his suddenly dry lips, feeling like he might cry. "How… long? How long ago did you write it?"

Lan Zhan buries his face in Wei Ying's shoulder, and Wei Ying's elbow slides out from under him. He wraps both arms around Lan Zhan, whose face is hot against Wei Ying's skin.

"Please? Will you tell me?"

Lan Zhan's teeth dig into Wei Ying's chest, not quite hard enough to hurt. He inhales deeply, holds it for a moment, then lets it out, his breath ghosting across Wei Ying's neck. Then, he mumbles something into Wei Ying's collarbone.

"What was that?" Wei Ying pushes on Lan Zhan's shoulders until he raises up onto his elbows. "I didn't hear you."

"I said," Lan Zhan says haltingly. "I wrote it… when I was fifteen. About… two months. After I met you."

Breathing hard, Wei Ying's eyes are edged with tears as he surges forward to kiss Lan Zhan right on his beautiful, beautiful mouth.

Still buried to the root inside him, Lan Zhan begins to rock in and out of Wei Ying again. Their lips and tongues move together in perfect harmony. They belong together.

Wei Ying isn't sure who comes first. They're both panting and moaning, holding each other as if they want to merge into one. It feels as if Wei Ying's entire body is sparking, and the only thing keeping him grounded is…

"Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan… I can't… Fuck! I love you so much."

Lan Zhan groans against Wei Ying's neck. "Love.. you… Wei Ying."

Wiping at his eyes with one hand, Wei Ying complains as Lan Zhan pulls out and rolls away. He brings Wei Ying with him, and Wei Ying can hear the fast pounding of his heart from where his ear lies on Lan Zhan's chest. Now, Wei Ying gives up on trying to hold himself together. Lan Zhan cradles him as he quietly sobs, rubbing his back comfortingly.

A few minutes later, the tears subside. Wei Ying sniffles, wiping his face. "W-wow, Lan Zhan. Warn a guy next time. You just… Wow."

Lan Zhan hums, loosening his grip on Wei Ying so that he can push himself up on his elbow.

"You know…" Wei Ying traces with his fingers the line of hair beneath Lan Zhan's bellybutton. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and… I think… When I met you, it was like… I'd never come across anyone like you before. You just… you stand up for what you believe in, and on the surface, it seems like you don't care, but you do. You're so kind, and you're funny. Even if I didn't quite realize it at the time, I knew there was so much more to you than you let on, and I just… wanted to peel away your layers one by one until I knew everything about you. The fact that you're beautiful doesn't hurt either, and every time you got mad at me… I don't know. It's like. I'd do anything just to have your full attention to myself.

"I didn't realize until recently what it all meant. Fuck, I was so dumb. If I had realized I was bi or whatever back then, who knows what we could have been. But you know me. I'm not one to hang onto the past. I'm just so happy to be where we are now, to have you like this, and… I know I keep saying it, but it's true. I love you, Lan Zhan."

Lan Zhan pulls him in, and Wei Ying nestles his face into the crook of his shoulder. They stay like this for a long time, until the mess of drying bodily fluids compels them to shower. Going straight back to bed, they spend hours just… talking.

They talk about anything and everything, staying up way past Lan Zhan's bedtime. When they finally turn off the bedside lamps, Wei Ying spoons Lan Zhan from behind, hugging him tightly while thinking, over and over again:

This is what it feels like to be loved.

Chapter Text

Wei Ying texted Lan Zhan about half an hour ago to let him know that he is running late. It is Friday afternoon, and Lan Zhan has long since finished his weekly routine of chores he likes to complete in anticipation of Wei Ying's visit, which gives him nothing to do but drift from room to room, looking for specks of dust to banish. He is pruning some leaves from the plant in the dining room when he hears the front door swing open, followed by an enthusiastic, "Lan Zhan!"

"In here," Lan Zhan calls out, setting aside his scissors.

Wei Ying bounces in, and Lan Zhan feels all of his blood rushing south.

Beaming at Lan Zhan with dark red lips, Wei Ying is, for the first time in Lan Zhan's recollection, wearing makeup.

A beat passes with Lan Zhan stunned into silence, and Wei Ying's smile dims a bit. "Is it too much?" he asks. "Huaisang wanted to give me a makeover, so of course I couldn't say no. I guess I could've washed it off before coming over, but he just… He spent so much time on it that it felt kinda rude to not keep it on. Haha, I guess I should—"

Snatching him by the waist, Lan Zhan yanks Wei Ying in for a kiss, carefully restraining himself from grinding against him (for now). Wei Ying's hair is tied up in a long, scarlet ribbon, which Lan Zhan finds and twirls around his fingers. Wei Ying melts into the kiss without any resistance, folding his arms around Lan Zhan's neck and clinging to him, and Lan Zhan begins to not-so-subtly steer him toward the table. His plan is to hoist Wei Ying up onto the edge, make out until Wei Ying is just as hard and desperate as Lan Zhan is, and then strip Wei Ying slowly. Then, he'll sink to his knees and get Wei Ying off with his mouth.

"Wait!" Ass pressed against the table, Wei Ying pushes on Lan Zhan's chest. "I have, uh, another surprise for you."

Lan Zhan drags his mouth along the column of Wei Ying's throat. He doesn't really want to wait, but Wei Ying pushes him again, getting him to take a step back. Pulling the nearest chair away from the table, Wei Ying gestures for Lan Zhan to sit.

Once Lan Zhan is (reluctantly) seated, Wei Ying pulls out his phone, which… Lan Zhan isn't sure where this is going, and he misses having Wei Ying's attention on him. This does, however, give Lan Zhan the opportunity to notice that Wei Ying has dressed up a bit, wearing leather pants that, while not uncomfortably tight, do cling to the curve of his ass nicely. His burgundy button-up shirt has three buttons undone, offering a tantalizing peek of his collarbones.

It's almost a shame, really—he got so dressed up, and Lan Zhan is going to tear him out of those fancy clothes, smear his lipstick, and fuck him until mascara is running down both his cheeks.

Leaning back on the table, Wei Ying looks up at Lan Zhan for a split second. He looks…nervous but determined. With one final tap of his thumb, soft electronic music begins playing from the speaker, and Wei Ying carefully sets the phone facedown beside him. He holds Lan Zhan's gaze for a long moment, but when Lan Zhan reaches for him, he says, "If I gave you a rule, would you follow it?"

"Yes," Lan Zhan answers without missing a beat. He would do anything for Wei Ying.

The devious grin that spreads across Wei Ying's face tells Lan Zhan that he has answered incorrectly.

"Good," Wei Ying says slowly. "The rule is: No touching."

Lan Zhan would do almost anything for Wei Ying.

He raises a hand towards Wei Ying, only to have it swatted away. "Ah, ah, ah," Wei Ying chides. "You already agreed. Hands to your side."

Shooting Wei Ying a contemptuous look, Lan Zhan obeys. The music begins to swell and expand—and Wei Ying begins to move.

It's subtle at first, just his shoulders shifting with the beat. He runs a hand across his chest, his fingers dragging the silk in a way that highlights the contours of the torso beneath it. He trails both hands along his thighs as his hips begin to sway, and Lan Zhan's fingertips itch with the desire to touch, to grab, to hold.

Taking a step toward Lan Zhan, Wei Ying rests one hand on the back of the chair, caging him in. Lan Zhan is transported back to that night, Wei Ying's last birthday, when Wei Ying was in his space, taunting him until Lan Zhan could take no more. This time, Lan Zhan is not allowed to act on his impulses. His fingers claw at the sides of the chair, rooting him in place as Wei Ying swings a leg over Lan Zhan's thighs, settling himself in his lap.

Wei Ying smirks, undoubtedly feeling how hard Lan Zhan already is, and he grinds against it while leaning in close enough for Lan Zhan to kiss him. As expected, he pulls away when Lan Zhan tilts his head, trying to slot their lips together. He sits up straighter and begins popping open the buttons of his shirt.

There's a hint of something black underneath, which Lan Zhan learns, as more of the shirt opens up, is a wide band of lace the sits just beneath his pecs. When the final button is loose, Wei Ying eases the shirt down his arms until it rests in the crooks of his elbows, showing off the crimson straps that disappear over his shoulders. Lan Zhan forgets how to breathe.

Smoothly shrugging out of the shirt, Wei Ying tosses it carelessly aside. Again, he touches his chest suggestively, pausing to tweak a nipple, and Lan Zhan growls and does something he has done only a few times in his life.

He breaks a rule.

Grabbing Wei Ying by the waist, Lan Zhan yanks him so that he collapses against Lan Zhan's chest. For a moment, Wei Ying allows Lan Zhan to kiss him, but he eventually wriggles his way free. He clicks his tongue.

"We had an agreement, Lan Zhan! Well then, if you can't keep your hands to yourself…" He reaches up to untie the ribbon holding his hair up, allowing it to fall in loose waves around his shoulders. "…I'll have to take them away from you."

He stands, and Lan Zhan immediately misses him. Stepping around to the back of the chair, Wei Ying gathers up both of Lan Zhan's hands, looping the ribbon around his wrists. He ties it in a knot and seems pleased when Lan Zhan cannot break free.

The song has changed to something a bit faster with a low, hypnotically pulsing bass. In front of Lan Zhan again, Wei Ying falls into the rhythm, his body twisting and gyrating as he slowly… slowly… unbuttons his pants. He unhurriedly drags them down over his hips, and Lan Zhan nearly chokes on his tongue as his long, slim legs are revealed.

He's wearing a pair of lace chaps that match the bustier, with two thin red bands on each side that wrap around his upper thighs. The part that covers his crotch is, like the top, made of black floral lace that won't survive the night if and when Lan Zhan gets his hands back. He wants to rip it apart with his teeth—which might not go over well with Wei Ying, since the outfit looks expensive.

Lan Zhan will buy him a replacement.

Lan Zhan will buy him an entire wardrobe brimming with lingerie of all colors and varieties.

"You look like you want to eat me," Wei Ying drawls, his voice lilting, teasing. He spins in a leisurely circle, showing off his ass, which the lingerie leaves blessedly bare. "It's a good thing I tied you up for my own safety."

Lan Zhan holds tongue, not rising to the bait. He watches Wei Ying touch himself and vows to mark each and every spot with his teeth as soon as he is released. He's keeping a mental tally of how many times Wei Ying's taunts him, deciding that he will pay for them later.

"Ah, Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying purrs, settling himself once again in Lan Zhan's lap. "You look so intense. Are you not enjoying the show?"

"I am." Lan Zhan can't let Wei Ying doubt, even for a second, that Lan Zhan is enjoying himself immensely.

"Good."

Lan Zhan is rewarded with a chaste kiss. When he tries to deepen it, Wei Ying flits away, moving on to nibble on Lan Zhan's earlobe. His breath is hot against the shell of Lan Zhan's ear, and the small noises he makes as he grinds his hard dick against Lan Zhan's are unbearably erotic. Lan Zhan might not survive.

Wei Ying's hands rove all over Lan Zhan's body, and he teases Lan Zhan with the occasional kiss that he refuses to let escalate to anything more than light pecks. Things get worse (better?) for Lan Zhan when Wei Ying reaches between their bodies, fondling his cock. His lips, pressed against Lan Zhan's are stretched wide in a smile as he deftly opens the fly of Lan Zhan's jeans, drawing his dick out of his underwear.

"Had enough?" Wei Ying's voice is slightly breathy, betraying his own arousal.

It's a trick question. Lan Zhan must choose his words carefully.

"Let me go now, and you will not regret it."

Wei Ying laughs. "Does that mean I will regret it if I don't?"

Before Lan Zhan can answer, Wei Ying lifts his hips, lining himself up, and—

Oh.

He's slick, already prepared for Lan Zhan. Lowering himself slowly, his breath hitches as Lan Zhan's cock breaches him, and, without the use of his hands, Lan Zhan has no choice but to wait in agony while Wei Ying moves at his own pace. Tight, warm walls hug Lan Zhan's dick a little bit at a time until Wei Ying reaches Lan Zhan's lap, and he spends several seconds simply clenching and unclenching around Lan Zhan, tormenting them both in equal measure.

Finally, Wei Ying begins to move, shifting his hips minutely and gasping. The teasing expression he wore earlier has disappeared, and he leans forward to kiss Lan Zhan, for real this time. Their lips move desperately against each other, tongues curling around one another and teeth occasionally nipping.

Wei Ying leans back abruptly, resting his hands on Lan Zhan's thighs. By now, he is bouncing in earnest, babbling nonsense as Lan Zhan struggles to hold himself together. He's already perilously close to coming, and from the looks of it, Wei Ying won't last long either. The lipstick is smeared across the edges of his mouth, extending all the way to his cheek on one side. His eyeliner is also smudged.

Suddenly, Lan Zhan hears the sound of ripped fabric and splintering wood, accompanied by something sharp scraping against his back. His hands are unexpectedly free, and, deciding his back is of no concern, he stands, lifting Wei Ying as he goes. He drops Wei Ying on the table, causing him to let a little "ouch!" But his eyes are full of delight as Lan Zhan shoves his legs open and buries himself inside him once again.

"Ah, fuck, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying moans. "God, you're just so… Fuck! Who gave you the right to be so strong?"

Lan Zhan spits through grit teeth, "Ridiculous."

He yanks the chaps down Wei Ying's hips, freeing his cock, which is flushed a deep red. A thin trail of precome connecting it to the lace breaks when Wei Ying's dick twitches.

"Ha, yeah, that's me." Wei Ying props himself up on his elbows. A trickle of mascara is running down his right cheek. "Ridiculous Wei Ying. But I've learned my lesson now. I'll be good."

"Will you?"

Threading his fingers in Wei Ying's hair, Lan Zhan yanks his head back, craning his neck. He pretends to study Wei Ying's face carefully, making Wei Ying squirm under his scrutiny. Driving into him with force, Lan Zhan loves having this Wei Ying—the one who is pliant and pleading and messy, begging Lan Zhan to fuck him up—all to himself.

"I…" Wei Ying grins. "Well, I can certainly try."

Don't ever change, Lan Zhan thinks. I love you just as you are.

Wei Ying groans. "Ugh, Lan Zhaaan… You're being too rough."

Thrusting into him harder, Lan Zhan narrows his eyes. "You can take it."

"Ah, I'm but a delicate man," Wei Ying continues to whine. "You'll break me in half."

"Then, break."

Head thrown back, Wei Ying's back bows as comes all over the bustier. "Shit, shit, shit!"

The makeup Nie Huaisang worked so hard to perfect is ruined by now, smears of black and red all over his beautiful face. All of Lan Zhan's pent-up desire boils over, and with one more forceful thrust, he lets go, fingers digging into Wei Ying's thighs hard enough to bruise. He shudders.

When he can breathe again, he carefully pulls out, then helps Wei Ying sit up. Wei Ying grumbles while wiping come off the lace, "Fucking hell. I paid good money for this."

"I will hand-wash it later," says Lan Zhan. He reaches behind himself, touching the scratches on his back. His hand comes away with blood on it, which startles Wei Ying.

"Sheesh, what the fuck?!" he cries. "That poor chair! But also, let's get your back cleaned up. I knew you'd be annoyed with being tied up, but I didn't think you would kill a chair and hurt yourself in the process!"

He hustles Lan Zhan into the bathroom to treat his wounds, and, after they've cleaned up (including washing Wei Ying's face), it is decided that dinner is in order. Wei Ying waffles back and forth between about ten different restaurants before making a decision, chattering away while Lan Zhan washes the lingerie in the bathroom sink. By the time he hangs the garments up to dry, Lan Zhan has made an entire mental catalog of things to buy online.

He turns, and Wei Ying is closer than he expected, wrapping Lan Zhan up in a warm hug. "I love you, Lan Zhan. Sorry if I'm annoying about it."

"Not annoying," Lan Zhan corrects. "Love you, too."

They've settled into a cozy domesticity as of late, and Lan Zhan wouldn't trade it for the world. Wei Ying has a key to Lan Zhan's house and spends most of the weekends and about half of the weekday evenings here. Is it too soon to suggest moving in together?

Lan Zhan shuts this line of thinking down immediately. They have been dating for barely two months, but surely the time they spent together before that counts for…something.

For now, he will have to keep to himself the thoughts of moving Wei Ying into his house.

On an unrelated note, it might be time to start cleaning out half of the bedroom closet.