Chapter Text
Now, truthfully, Wei Ying wasn’t that sure if his apartment was still his apartment. It would be, as long as Wen Qing lived there, and of course he still had the keys for the building, safe in the pocket of his shorts for a year.
But he couldn’t be absolutely sure.
Still, he led them there through the neon-light lit streets, empty of people save a few black figures in the distance, yet still looking weirdly alive every time of the day. Lan Zhan’s hand was in his, squeezing like mad, but whenever Wei Ying turned to look his face was blank as his eyes roamed over the scenery.
It must’ve looked strange. Power lines crossing over narrow streets, signs flashing in bright colors to sell you something you definitely didn’t need but kind of wanted anyway, and a lot of garbage thrown around haphazardly for the lack of trash cans.
It kind of looked weird to Wei Ying as well, and he’d been living that life for twenty-odd years more than the other. To Lan Zhan, this was completely new.
Only when a car passed them did Wei Ying notice how high-strung Lan Zhan really was – the guy pushed him behind him, standing protectively between him and the terrifying metal machine.
“That’s a car, Lan Zhan. We’ve talked about those, right?”
It took a moment for Lan Zhan to relax his stance. “Mn.”
“Hey, tomorrow we can go sightseeing and I’ll answer all of your questions,” Wei Ying said then. “But right now we are two weirdly dressed lunatics in the middle of a very not-safe district in Shanghai. In the middle of the night. So, uh, we need to get moving. The place is just around the block.”
“Mn.”
Then, because he could, Wei Ying added: “I love you.”
He enjoyed the hitch in Lan Zhan’s breathing.
It took them only a moment to get to the apartment. The keys still fit – hooray! And in no time they were standing in front of the door to Wei Ying and Wen Qing’s cramped little apartment. It was the third floor, and there was an elevator, but Wei Ying thought Lan Zhan might’ve fainted had he been forced to use it, and he attempted to minimize any extra shock.
For Wei Ying, stumbling into the Cloud Recesses was like visiting a historical site or a monastery. It wasn’t something he’d lived in, for sure, but at least it was familiar.
To Lan Zhan, everything looked brand new and alien, and also probably kind of dirty and noisy and too much. Ha, probably like Wei Ying, when he’d seen him the first time.
The keys fit the door then, too, and Wei Ying prayed all the gods above that he wasn’t just about to break into some unsuspecting new tenant’s apartment.
There was no light inside when they quietly walked in, but there was a slight movement before them in the dark, only just visible enough for Wei Ying to discern. He closed the door behind with a click and turned the lights on to see–
Wen Qing with a baseball bat, ready to swing at the strange men breaking into her apartment at two o’clock in the morning.
“Don’t hit, it’s me!” Wei Ying yelped, arms coming up to cover his face in case she swung.
Wen Qing’s eyes widened, the bat slipping out from her grasp. It hit the ground with a loud clatter. The shock on her face was palpable.
“You–?”
Then there were wiry arms thrown around him as he was being pulled into a crushing hug. For someone so slight in build, Wen Qing had always been unnaturally strong
Wei Ying returned the hug with just as much feeling. He’d missed her. He’d missed her so much. And now he was back, and she looked the exact same except maybe ten times more tired and a thousand times more pissed.
When she pulled back, she hit him with the back of her fist on his shoulder.
“Ouch!”
“You! You bastard, how dare you show up here after pulling a disappearing act like that?” she seethed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes flaming and maybe a little red. “I thought you were dead! I thought you’d been shot and dumped in the ocean or– or– Fuck, Wei Ying, you don’t get to pull this shit!”
Wei Ying rubbed his shoulder, trying to look placating and probably only looking a little teary-eyed. No one had called him a bastard in a year with that amount of wrathful fondness.
He’d missed her very, very much.
“You left your phone, you took nothing with you, it didn’t seem like you ran away! Why would you do that to me?” she continued, shaking with anger and maybe relief.
“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Wei Ying said, scratching his cheek. “I would love to explain, but...I mean, it’s a long story. And really unbelievable.”
“Well you don’t have a choice, you absolute moron, you idiot, showing up in the middle of the night a year– fuck, it’s been exactly a year, how could you do that?” Wen Qing wiped some of her angry tears off with the back of her hand. “And in a get-up like that! What’s this, Fantasy Fair? And with a– Wei Ying, who is this?”
Ah. Wei Ying turned to glance at Lan Zhan, luminous still in his all-white getup, so very handsome and so very stiff. The man was staring at the wall with what must’ve been the most embarrassment Wei Ying had ever seen on his face.
“That’s– my boyfriend,” Wei Ying said, squinting. ‘Boyfriend’ sounded pretty dumb. ‘Soulmate’ would’ve made Wen Qing throttle him.
“Intended,” Lan Zhan corrected, and wow, okay, so they were apparently jumping right into betrothal territory.
Lan Zhan circled his hands and gave a proper bow, eyes still cast. “Lan Zhan, courtesy name Wangji. I am honored.”
Wen Qing looked at him for two blinks, then turned back to Wei Ying. “What the fuck is this?”
“Okay, I will explain if you promise to keep an open mind,” Wei Ying said to Wen Qing, then to Lan Zhan, “Why are you staring at walls?”
“She is undressed,” Lan Zhan said, sounding even more embarrassed than he looked. Which was not a lot, since he was still Lan Zhan, but to Wei Ying it was very much apparent.
And oh, right, yeah. Wen Qing was wearing a ratty t-shirt and striped pajama shorts. Wei Ying could not help the burst of laughter that escaped him then, a little wet and just a tad hysterical.
Wen Qing punched his shoulder again.
“Ouch! Ouch, Wen Qing!” He saw the look on her face, then quickly added, “Okay, fair, I deserved that.”
“You got engaged to some sort of traditionalist?” Wen Qing asked, waving an angry hand towards Lan Zhan.
“He hasn’t officially asked so I’m going to say no to that, but let’s keep the option open,” Wei Ying said. “Please put on a bathrobe or something so he can look at you. I promise it’s not sexism, he’s just very respectful.”
Wen Qing rubbed her forehead, but then picked up the bat and disappeared down the hallway to her room. She soon appeared back wearing a hoodie and long pajama pants. Lan Zhan finally turned to her fully, although Wei Ying could see the slightest bit of tension in him still.
It was probably about the pants. He’d have to start getting desensitized to that sooner or later, so Wei Ying said nothing.
“Stop standing there at the door like idiots,” Wen Qing said then. “I’ll make us some coffee, and then you’re going to explain everything from start to finish. And don’t think I’m going to even consider forgiving you until you properly apologize.”
So Wei Ying took Lan Zhan by the hand again and settled the two of them on the couch, Wen Qing turning to their even more cramped kitchen.
Everything there looked exactly the same, from the scuffed wallpaper to the coffee-stained table by the window.
It wasn’t quite happiness he felt looking at it all, but it was a kind of comfort that came from familiarity and nostalgia. He’d survive a year here, for sure. He’d survive a lot more, now that Lan Zhan was with him.
-
Wen Qing’s expression did not twitch once during the explanation, her grip on her coffee cup staying loose and comfortable. She was one of those people that could not be read whenever she wanted to, and it seemed she wanted to because Wei Ying had no clue what she thought of any of it.
“--and then I told him I liked him, and he went all ‘I don’t believe you because you are a harlot, Wei Ying’--”
“I did not say that.”
“--and I had to fight him about it, and then it turned out he was also sort of into me, and it all turned out fine. Then we walked down the mountain together, and now here we are.”
The silence was ringing after that. Wen Qing’s gaze had fallen onto the coffee cup, long empty, and Wei Ying waited nervously for the inevitable accusations and undue worry for his mental health.
Which was fine, for once. Wei Ying felt fine.
“Right,” Wen Qing said then. “Okay. Look, I’m not saying I don’t believe you. That whole story is insane enough that it could literally only happen to you.”
Wei Ying nodded. Fair. He’d always been a bit of a magnet for improbable, troublesome events.
“And it’s– see, you just disappeared. Just like that. I was so sure they’d gotten you, that they’d killed you for no reason, but then I asked around and no one knew anything. And they would’ve known about something like that.”
“Wen Qing...”
“I even thought that you might’ve actually run off. Just, kept it really well hidden, saved up some money, and left, but you didn’t take anything with you. And you wouldn’t have left me and A-Ning like that,” Wen Qing said.
“I wouldn’t have,” Wei Ying confirmed, couldn’t help the sad note in his voice. “Of course I wouldn’t.”
“The police were useless. I filed a missing person’s report but there was no sign of you at all, anywhere. Like you’d just been erased from existence.”
Wen Qing looked weary retelling that experience from a year ago. Wei Ying wondered if he could’ve been as calm as she seemed, had Wen Qing disappeared like that. He didn’t think so.
“So whatever crazy nonsense happened to you this past year, I don’t really care. It might be that you – crossed realities, or something, and brought with you some improbably good-looking boyfriend,” Wen Qing said. “It’s fine. I don’t care. But you-- if you do this to me again, Wei Ying, I will actually hunt you down and kill you myself.”
“We’ll be leaving after a year again,” Wei Ying blurted out before he could stop himself.
Wen Qing stared at him for an excruciating amount of time, before finally sighing. “Are you going to let me know beforehand?”
“Yeah, yes, of course.”
“Then we’re fine,” Wen Qing stated, standing up from her armchair. “Want more coffee? I need to go to sleep, so you can make it yourself. I’ve got work tomorrow.”
“You graduated?” Wei Ying asked, delighted.
“A few months ago. I’ve been saving up so I can move out of this hellhole. Oh, by the way, your stuff’s in boxes. I wouldn’t have thrown them away, but. Well.”
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
They looked at each other for a while, then. Silently. Wen Qing looked tired, but there was a brightness in her eyes as well. Wei Ying probably looked like the worst kind of crybaby with his red-rimmed eyes.
“Good night, Wen Qing,” he said finally.
“Good night,” Wen Qing replied. Stopped while passing him to grab his shoulder and squeeze.
She disappeared into her own room, the door clicking softly as it closed.
Lan Zhan was looking at him, then. Eyes roaming on him unashamedly, openly, like searching for something in the smallest details of him. Wei Ying smiled at him, a bit tiredly.
“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan, I think I’m exhausted with everything. Let’s go to sleep, yeah?”
The man nodded, and when Wei Ying left to his room, followed close behind like a shadow.
Everything seemed the same around there as well, though most of Wei Ying’s stuff was indeed in boxes. The bed was the same, unmade like he’d left it. He didn’t know why Wen Qing hadn’t touched it.
Probably out of sentimentality. Maybe some part of her had been hoping for his return.
“Don’t judge me for the mess. It’s actually cleaner now that there’s nothing on the table or the shelves. Oh, she cleaned the windowsill as well. I had a Newton’s Cradle there. I’ll show it to you tomorrow, it’s cool.”
“Mn.”
Wei Ying pushed some boxes to the sides of the room, cleaning the way to the bed. He pulled the blanket off the bed, shook it a little to check if it was dusty, but apparently Wen Qing really had kept the hygiene levels proper around here.
Then Wei Ying took off the robes, one by one, letting them drop onto the floor. He was wearing the t-shirt and shorts under them, the outfit he’d worn a year ago on his trip to the store.
“God, I’m spent,” he whined, climbing into bed.
Only then did he notice that Lan Zhan was still standing there, staring at him with slightly widened eyes. His ears were a little red.
The air felt too hot and still, too much like summer, as Wei Ying squinted at him and tried to understand the reaction. What, was it the clothes thing again?
Lan Zhan’s eyes were indeed stuck somewhere below the line where Wei Ying’s shorts ended, on a soft sliver of skin that was high enough on his thigh that it could’ve maybe passed as improper even here.
Then, Lan Zhan exhaled, turning his gaze away to the walls again. His usual tactic.
“Wei Ying,” the man said, voice hoarse. “We are not married.”
Wei Ying blinked at him, having expected to hear something along the lines of ‘sleeping without a robe is forbidden’.
“Yeah, and I wasn’t joking about us not being engaged either until you ask me properly.”
The other nodded, looking serious. “We will discuss it later.”
“Sure. We’ve been dating all of ninety minutes already. About time, I think,” Wei Ying said, grinning.
“Wei Ying. You need sleep,” Lan Zhan replied, still sounding severe, almost admonishing.
“...Yes,” said Wei Ying, not entirely in the loop.
“I will not lie with you tonight,” the man stated then.
Wei Ying stared. The ears were now bright red, but the chin was held up in a stubborn manner, ready to defend this stance. Wei Ying had to do some mental somersaults to finally get the full picture.
He then glanced down at himself, at the worn black t-shirt and the shorts, and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hahaha, Lan Zhan, do you think I’m trying to seduce you?” he asked. “Is this what you find hot? Very tired, emotionally exhausted college dropout in worn cotton?”
Lan Zhan glared at him. “Wei Ying undressed in front of me.”
“Yeah, because I want to sleep next to you and the air conditioning is shit here and it’s hot,” Wei Ying said, still stifling laughter into his hand.
Lan Zhan seemed to want to say something to that, but in the end, the man merely shook his head, sighed, and turned away.
“What, Lan Zhan, are you kidding me? You really won’t sleep next to me?” Wei Ying whined.
“If Wei Ying dresses properly.”
“Lan Zhaan. Lan Zhan, I will die,” he groaned. “Besides, we’re together now! It’s fine.”
“...”
“I just really want to go to sleep,” Wei Ying said, then, all the whine out of his voice and replaced with the genuine tiredness he felt. “Please, just come to bed, alright? Let’s freak out about it tomorrow.”
Lan Zhan sighed again, but from the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, Wei Ying could tell he had won. The man stripped out of his outer robe, folded it, and placed it on the nightstand. Then he took Wei Ying’s robes and did the same to them.
Finally, he took off the forehead ribbon and neatly placed it on top of the pile.
Then, just like that, he slid into the bed next to Wei Ying. Very stiff, but probably tired enough to not actually start panicking if Wei Ying clung onto him like a koala.
The man did not react when Wei Ying slid closer, bare knees and all. Lan Zhan even opened his arms for him, holding himself very still as Wei Ying placed his head against Lan Zhan’s chest, listening to the frantic beating of his heart.
He would’ve probably teased him about that, but it was late, and he really was exhausted.
So they fell asleep like that, in each other’s arms, like they were made to.
-
The morning was an experience.
Wen Qing had left early to work, poor thing, and left a note that plainly expressed that if Wei Ying wasn’t in the apartment once she came back, she’d kill him. Also, she left a bit of money for them to go get some food.
That was the easy part of the morning. The only easy part. Reading the note.
The rest wasn’t difficult, per se, but it was definitely something. He took a shower with actual shampoo and conditioner, which was great after a year of oils and handmade soaps. Luxury, that. Lan Zhan wouldn’t come with him to the shower, and instead just stood there in front of the window and stared out at the city, now awake and bubbling with life.
When Wei Ying put on his normal clothes – black jeans and a red long-sleeved shirt, mindful of his fuddy-duddy of man – he could hear how the sounds carried from the outside, muffled but still there. Cars passing, people talking. The neighbors were playing pop music.
Lan Zhan looked very neutral watching all of it, and when asked, merely stated that everything seemed ‘interesting’.
The shower was a fun thing to explain to Lan Zhan, but instead of any kind of nervous breakdown or discomfort, it seemed that he found it quite an acceptable substitute for a bathtub.
“Where does the water come from?”
“Pipes. They’re in the walls, it’s a whole system,” Wei Ying explained. “Do you want to borrow some of my clothes?”
Lan Zhan’s eyes traveled over his form, expression familiarly judging. Only now Wei Ying could perhaps distinguish some heat in that gaze.
He tried very hard to not get hung up on the implications of that.
“Right, right, ‘indecent!’ Well you know what, I won’t take you out with me if we don’t get you some regular people clothing.”
“...”
“They can be very loose and flowy as well, you know. But people will definitely stare at you if you wear your usual clothes, and I know you wouldn’t like that.”
Wei Ying did not mention that Lan Zhan would get stared at regardless. For being a God among men. Gorgeous. Handsome. Carved out of jade.
His boyfriend.
Lan Zhan evicted him out of the bathroom, then, and Wei Ying went and found the loosest shirt and longest pair of pants he owned and left them before the door for Lan Zhan to wear.
He didn’t really own anything white, so fifteen minutes later he had Lan Zhan in a shirt that was definitely stretching a little at his biceps and chest, and pants that were only just long enough to not look completely ridiculous.
Lan Zhan looked really hot, of course. He always did. And black was a color that flattered everyone.
So Wei Ying had to go and drink two glasses of water to distract himself from the glaring, uncomfortable-looking man that probably felt pretty naked with his get up and also kept looking at Wei Ying with very meaningful gaze, and Wei Ying felt kind of too hot over it, so–
Anyway. Wei Ying made them morning tea, which he now knew how to make a lot better. Lan Zhan was definitely not in with the whole ‘teabag’ thing, but he let Wei Ying prepare the tea for him anyway, no matter how suspiciously he stared at the wet lump after it was done brewing.
“So!” Wei Ying said after they were both seated down with their cups, Wei Ying’s shaped like a cat with cute porcelain ears and all, and Lan Zhan’s a gift from Jiang Cheng, red mug with a text in English, ‘World’s Okayest Brother’.
Wei Ying wasn’t going to translate that for him.
“So,” he repeated. “We’re, um, we’re, like, in love.”
Lan Zhan’s look at this was very earnest. Wei Ying felt himself blushing.
“Mn.”
“S-so, so, that’s great! Cool, yeah. Okay. Um. I kind of need a few clarifications,” Wei Ying said, desperately trying to ignore how happy that made him.
He’d thought about this in the shower. The fact that Lan Zhan had been in love with him. And just last night had declared them betrothed.
He cleared his throat. “Since when?”
“Since the first meeting,” Lan Zhan said, turning to look at a wall again, his default strategy to dealing with embarrassment around here. “Wei Ying was impossible. Loud. Outrageous.”
“Lan Zhan, those are all negative words!”
The other shook his head. “No. Wei Ying was – nothing like anyone I’d met before. It was seeing the sunrise for the first time.”
Wei Ying’s whole face felt hot. His chest was constricting. He was probably dying.
Hiding behind his palms, Wei Ying groaned: “Maybe this was a bad idea. Lan Zhan, you can’t say these things! I will die.”
Lan Zhan huffed, looking at him fondly. Probably not even believing that his newly acquired boyfriend was in the need of an ambulance because of him.
“Ugh, Lan Zhan, why didn’t you say anything? I was devastated for a while there,” Wei Ying whined.
“Why did Wei Ying not say anything?”
“It’s not how we do things here! We pussyfoot around for billion years, trying to figure out if the other person is interested, and only then dare we maybe send a risky text message asking someone out while keeping it vague enough that it can seem like a friendly date rather than a romantic date if the other person seems to take it in a platonic way,” Wei Ying said, very reasonably.
Lan Zhan’s look was very pointed, so Wei Ying had to add: “You guys have that whole formal courting thing! Why– why didn’t you just, I don’t know, do whatever needs to be done then?”
The porcelain clinked as Wei Ying hastily picked his mug from the table, desperate to have something to do with his hands.
“There were many reasons,” Lan Zhan said.
“No time like now to recount them!”
“As I stated before, I did not believe Wei Ying was interested. Furthermore, you were not aware of our customs, nor what it might fully mean to agree to a courtship,” Lan Zhan stated.
The tea was not bitter, but Wei Ying scrunched his nose anyway. ‘Not interested’! So stupid. He might’ve not realized the depth of his feelings immediately, but he definitely knew that had Lan Zhan implied anything about a romance between them before that, he would’ve definitely been on board.
“Bad reasons. Could have asked, could have explained,” Wei Ying declared.
Lan Zhan gave him a look, then continued: “In the matter of an official courtship, changes to our arrangements would have had to be made. Wei Ying would have moved out of the Jingshi until marriage. Our interactions would have been more closely watched.”
“Oh. Oh, oh, okay, fuck, good move,” Wei Ying said then, sort of terrified at the concept. No wonder Lan Zhan hadn’t initiated anything proper. But then-- “Wait, so you weren’t ever planning on actually initiating a real courtship?”
No matter how impenetrable that brick wall of a face was, sometimes it too could let things through. And right now, Lan Zhan looked just a little bit caught out.
“I...”
“Lan Zhan! Were you hoping to just fuck me in secret?” Wei Ying couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden mortification on Lan Zhan’s face. “Who would’ve thought this about the illustrious, venerable Hanguang-jun? An illicit affair he wanted to have! Hahaha!”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, tone admonishing.
Wei Ying grinned. “What, you can think those thoughts but you get mad when I say it out loud?”
“You misunderstand,” Lan Zhan said. “I wanted us to marry.”
His laughter died a quick death at that. “Haha, what?”
There was a difficult expression on Lan Zhan’s face, and then when he looked away again, his posture was rigid, reserved.
“I realize there are differences in our approach to such matters,” he said stiffly. “Us Lans only love once. I would not ‘date’, nor have any sort of casual affairs.”
Wei Ying stared, as Lan Zhan continued on: “I cannot-- Wei Ying. I will not have anyone else, if you decided...”
Oh. The warm feeling quickly disappeared to make way for something less easy. He thought about his actions the past year, the image of his attitude to romance that Lan Zhan must’ve gathered.
He often joked about Lan Zhan thinking he was promiscuous and flighty, but it wasn’t what he really wanted him to think. Wei Ying had a lot more progressive views on those things, being born in a time such as this, but it wasn’t like he actually wanted to be unattached for the sake of it.
It was the other way around, really. He did have a lot of very traditional fantasies when it came to love. Finding a person you could spend your eternity with. Marrying. Having kids. Being together until the two of you died of old age, side by side on the bed of your storybook cottage.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, voice soft. “There’s no one else for me either, you know that, right? You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?”
Lan Zhan looked at him, then, and the stiffness in the way he held himself loosened just a little bit. The man nodded.
“So there. No one’s having second thoughts, no one’s breaking up with the other. Deal?”
“Mn.”
“Okay. So. Another question--” Wei Ying took a sip of his tea to gather some courage. “Are you actually not planning to fuck me before we’re married?”
Lan Zhan had taken a sip just then as well, and while it didn’t seem he choked on the tea, he still had to put the cup down and cough a little, ears burning red.
“Wei Ying,” he said, probably going for reproachful and managing only embarrassed.
“What? We both want to, it’s not bad if we both want to,” Wei Ying reasoned. “There’s not even a pregnancy risk. Also, I heard from a reputable source there’s going to be a betrothal at some point. Excited about that. Definitely.”
“We are not married,” Lan Zhan said, but it sounded very weak and sort of like something Lan Zhan felt he had to say rather than something that was actually important to him.
Well, in a sense that Lan Zhan probably had been planning their wedding from day one, and now saw it as the only sensible conclusion to their relationship. The thought made Wei Ying giddy.
“We will be! Though I still haven’t heard a real proposal.”
Lan Zhan looked uncertain. “Wei Ying, will you--”
“No, no, not like that! I mean, yes, I’ll marry you in a heartbeat, but I need to show you some movies so that you can do it right, real twenty-first century like!”
The uncertainty hadn’t vanished, but Lan Zhan nodded anyway. “I see.”
“Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan. I just – what I wanted to get out of this talk was just that, we love each other, right? That’s a real thing that’s now– that actually has existed between us all this time, right?”
“Mn.”
“So I just wanted to let you know that if you want to, you can do anything to me. Whenever you want. Every day.”
The ears were so, so red. Wei Ying felt some deep satisfaction in seeing Lan Zhan’s grip tighten around the mug, and for a second worried it might actually break. Then, when it didn’t, he realized–
“Lan Zhan! Our golden cores!”
“Mn. It is strange.”
Wei Ying shook his head, feeling sort of bad. “God, this must suck for you.”
But Lan Zhan only looked at him again like he was a moron. “Wei Ying. I have recently found out that the man I thought could never love me back returns my feelings, and is now willing to marry me.”
Ah, the blush was back. Full-time.
“I do not think you should be worried about my well-being,” Lan Zhan concluded.
Wei Ying had to hide behind his hands again. “Aiyah, okay, okay! Fine, you win, I will not worry for you again! Merciless man!”
There it was again, the tiniest pull upwards in the corners of Lan Zhan’s beautiful mouth. “Mn.”
So that was that, then. Wei Ying quickly moved on with other things, plans for their stay here and such. They’d probably get to stay in the apartment if Wei Ying’s name was in the lease and Wen Qing was going to move out.
Lan Zhan needed clothes. They both needed a job, probably. And there would be a long integration plan needed for his Lan Zhan to survive the upcoming months in the chaos of the modern world.
But from the way Lan Zhan seemed to silently take things in with unwavering confidence, Wei Ying couldn’t feel too terrified over it.
-
The trip to the store was a little bit disastrous. Lan Zhan had alternately glared at the intrigued passersby who probably thought he was hot, and the ground, so as to not see any scandalously bare knees or shoulders.
He hadn’t flinched at the cars or the noise, but he’d looked uncomfortable enough for it to be obvious, and that didn’t happen often.
At the store, he kept frowning at the small selection of vegetables and then at all the packaged stuff with weird names. Wei Ying wanted to be merciful with him and mostly bought stuff that was familiar, like rice and lotus roots and mushrooms and tofu.
And maybe some candy, but that was for science purposes. The science of making Lan Zhan like something about the modern world, mainly. He knew the guy had a sweet tooth.
“Why do they cut it?” Lan Zhan had asked on their way back, stiff as a board while trying to keep his distance from other people walking past them. Pretty successfully, mind.
“Cut what?” Wei Ying had responded, kind of overwhelmed himself as well.
He hadn’t remembered just how much busier a place this really was. Everyone was somehow both rushing and loud. Also, there were a lot of people smoking. He hadn’t missed the smell.
“The hair.”
“Oh. Oh, uh, it’s just a style here? Long hair was a women’s thing for a long while, although now I don’t think it matters a lot,” Wei Ying explained.
“I see.”
“Is it bad? I had short hair as a kid. I could show you pictures!”
Whatever pensive mood Lan Zhan had been spiraling himself into evaporated, then. The thought of getting to see baby pictures of Wei Ying seemed to please him a surprising amount, as the line between his brows disappeared and the ‘mn’ he answered with sounded gratified.
So when they’d gotten back they made some basic congee and ate it, and then Wei Ying started opening boxes at random to find the one singular folder of pictures from his childhood.
“Oh, no, those are some of my study books,” Wei Ying said, glancing at the box Lan Zhan had opened. “Into the trash, I tell you. No, wait! I could probably sell them, actually, give ‘em here.”
Lan Zhan did, and Wei Ying placed them on a pile he would later sort out. He hadn’t remembered how much stupid shit he owned. Way too many black hoodies, for one, and also all kinds of knickknacks he’d dismantled and then put together again.
There were lots of loose pieces of machinery in the box with his school stuff. A terrible reminder of the contrast between his career of choice and actual interests.
“What is this?”
“Which-- oh! Oh, shit, Lan Zhan, that’s my phone!”
“The device you use for contacting people across distance?”
“Yes! If I had a working subscription I could not only call and message people, I could use Baidu!”
Adding that to the mental to-do list, Wei Ying continued searching. It would be so handy to just let the internet answer every single one of Lan Zhan’s questions. He wouldn’t have to pull anything out of his ass.
Speaking of--
“Don’t open that box!” he yelped, smacking Lan Zhan’s hand away from what was going to be a long conversation they didn’t need to have right now.
Lan Zhan looked at him suspiciously. “What does it contain?”
“I– uh, it– um, it– secrets?”
He hadn’t known someone could look so unimpressed without moving a single muscle on his face before meeting Lan Zhan.
But before the situation could snowball into a disaster, the doorbell started ringing.
Intently. Like, with a worryingly familiar level of insistent anger. Wei Ying’s eyes widened, his heart suddenly in his throat. No way.
He sprung up and rushed to the door, Lan Zhan close behind him.
He knew who it was even before opening it. Of course he knew – he’d known this guy for the entirety of his life. And he couldn’t believe he was on the other side, because Jiang Cheng had not talked to him for almost two years, now.
Wei Ying hadn’t seen his little brother in two years.
Yet there he stood, behind the door, looking furious with his hand raised up for what seemed to be less an intention to knock and more an attempt to physically assault the door.
“You!” Jiang Cheng snapped at his wide-eyed face.
And then he just as promptly punched Wei Ying in the face. With his fist. Straight to the cheekbone.
Which, while probably deserved, was an extremely bad move in front of Lan Zhan, who took this act of aggression as permission to slam Jiang Cheng into the wall and restrain him with what seemed like way too much strength to use on a non-cultivator, even without a golden core.
Not that Wei Ying could really focus on that, as the pain on his cheek was kind of achy, pulsating thing, and in the bottom of his stomach, there were several mixed feelings trying to make him throw up. Or burst into laughter.
“Ah, fuck, Lan Zhan, stop!” he said, grimacing while holding the side of his face that was definitely going to swell.
“What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng barked, face half-smashed against the wallpaper. “Who the fuck are you? Wei Ying!”
“Do not touch him.” Lan Zhan sounded absolutely wrathful, and if Wei Ying could’ve focused he might have found the anger in that voice maybe just a little bit hot.
So it took him a while to get Lan Zhan to let go of Jiang Cheng, who, after being let go, immediately almost ruined it again by getting very close to Wei Ying to shout at him again.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” his little brother yelled, face red and so very angry. “Who do you think you are? You just go MIA without telling anyone, disappear without a trace and not leave any messages? And then just– show up! Like nothing’s wrong!”
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Ying tried, but he knew he would not get a word in a while.
“Do you know how that felt like? You– you stupid fucker, you disappearing after– after what we went through? I wouldn’t have even known if Wen Qing hadn’t asked after you!”
“Step back,” Lan Zhan ordered coldly, and Jiang Cheng’s reddened eyes flashed to him for a second before turning back to Wei Ying, ten times angrier.
“This what you were doing for a year? Was it fun, making Wen Qing and I spread missing person posters around the fucking town while you were jumping on some pretty boy’s cock and laughing at us?”
This was provocation enough for Lan Zhan to stiffen into a complete statue, but Wei Ying pulled him back by the bicep. Lan Zhan didn’t know Jiang Cheng. Couldn’t see the absolute misery in his eyes, behind the thousands of layers of anger.
He’d hurt Jiang Cheng again, he realized. He hadn’t known Jiang Cheng still cared.
“Lan Zhan, will you wait in the other room for me?” he asked, and the absolute disbelief on Lan Zhan’s face was palpable.
“No.”
“Please?”
“He is violent.”
Jiang Cheng’s hands were still balled in fists, his whole posture only one insult away from another attack, but whatever roughhousing was coming probably was warranted. Wei Ying shook his head, looked at Lan Zhan pleadingly.
In the end, the man relented. With the coldest, sharpest glare towards Jiang Cheng, he pulled away and disappeared into Wei Ying’s room, closing the door behind him with what was obviously an incredible amount of restraint.
They were left alone in the hallway, silence hanging in the air like a noose.
“I’m sorry,” Wei Ying said then. His eyes felt so red again, so ready to spill over. “Jiang Cheng. I’m so sorry.”
“I thought you were dead,” Jiang Cheng said and did not shout this time. His voice was seeping poison. “I thought you were dead, and that you’d done it to yourself, and that it was my fault.”
Oh. The guilt he’d managed to forget for a day doubled back, piercing him between the ribs. Wei Ying took in a shuddering breath, not managing to meet his brother’s gaze any longer.
“I wasn’t,” Wei Ying said. “I wouldn’t– Jiang Cheng. You–”
“I know! I know what I said back then, and I know how it left you, but you didn’t have to– Why the fuck would you do this to me? You stupid asshole, and now you just prance back into our lives like nothing happened, don’t even make an attempt to contact me, I had to hear from Wen Qing again–”
“I didn’t know you cared.” Wei Ying felt the wetness over his face, matching Jiang Cheng.
They were bad at this. So bad at this. Shijie had always acted as the mediator in situations where they went too far, where their own words didn’t carry enough in them to assure or to clear anything up.
Now it was just the two of them, and Wei Ying could feel he wasn’t doing a good enough job.
“Didn’t know that I cared,” Jiang Cheng repeated, words sounding empty. “Right. Right, that’s just it, isn’t it?”
Wei Ying couldn’t look at him.
“Wen Qing told me. About what happened to your fund. That it was to save Wen Ning.”
Oh, and the ground was starting to feel a little shaky.
“Jiang Cheng–”
“What a load of bullshit. You couldn’t tell that to me back then? Wei Ying, you are so fucking – whatever. You know what? Whatever. What-fucking-ever.”
There were too many feelings in that, too many to count, and Wei Ying couldn’t find it in himself to care about anything else but the note of dejection in it. A thought appeared then, acid to his lungs, that perhaps Jiang Cheng wasn’t the only one that had pushed away.
He didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet.
Jiang Cheng turned, then, almost like he couldn’t stand the oppressive atmosphere any longer. Wei Ying felt the same, so he didn’t stop Jiang Cheng as he opened the door without another word.
He stood there on the doorway for another moment, shoulders tight, hand gripping the handle. Then, Jiang Cheng left.
Wei Ying stood there staring at the door for a while, minutes ticking by until finally, the door behind him opened, and Lan Zhan came to him. Something that made sense in the chaos, a cool hand against the swell of his cheek.
Lan Zhan looked at him with very kind eyes. Wei Ying let out a shuddering breath, and when Lan Zhan asked him if he was alright, he replied: “Yeah.”
-
He’d known to expect the first few days back home to be a bit of an emotional roller coaster, which made it just a tad easier to adapt. It was kind of funny that it was Lan Zhan who coddled him and not the other way around, considering it was his own world that they returned to, not the other way around.
He of course attempted to do his part as well. Lan Zhan seemed exceptionally delighted looking at old pictures of him once they found the photographs, stopping to inspect each individual photo with care and what could be maybe described as loving eyes.
Baby pictures were a thing Wei Ying hadn’t expected to be something significant and noteworthy of his world, but for someone who had no way to make concrete evidence of his past self, those must’ve been a priceless treasure.
So he leaned on Lan Zhan’s shoulder while they looked through the album, content with narrating silly stories while Lan Zhan mn’d and nodded gently.
Once Wen Qing got back from work, she gave him only a look, a ‘sorry’, and then a quick inspection to make sure Jiang Cheng hadn’t inflicted any actual harm. Wei Ying had been so glad about seeing her again – he’d missed her! He’d missed her so much! – that he’d been obedient throughout the entirety of it.
Then he had to make a call to Wen Ning with Wen Qing’s phone, and hearing the unsure, hopeful voice from the other end almost made him cry like a baby again. So he talked with Wen Ning, too, who promised to visit sometime in the next few days.
After that was done, they had a long talk about Wei Ying’s plans for the next year, meanwhile Lan Zhan made them some tea and served it in a very traditional way. It was fun seeing his hand go to keeping away the full sleeve that wasn’t there.
“Jiang Cheng will get you a job,” Wen Qing said, in quite a matter-of-fact tone, once Wei Ying was done with his fumbling explanation. “And I’ll take care of the jewelry. Do you mind the money being dirty?”
“Please don’t make me support drug dealers and human traffickers,” Wei Ying replied. “And what do you mean Jiang Cheng will get me a job? He hates me.”
“You’ll get less, then,” Wen Qing said, and pointedly did not reply to the comment about Jiang Cheng. “My relatives can pay.”
“I know. They can rot,” Wei Ying replied pleasantly. “If you’re sure that Jiang Cheng can get me a job, then it doesn’t matter, right?”
Wen Qing shrugged, and the conversation continued to other things, a little away from the topic of the next year and a little more to each other’s past year.
It was not exactly pleasant to hear the other side of the story. The growing worry, how he hadn’t showed up in days. How Wen Qing had slowly exhausted every avenue to find him. How Jiang Cheng had apparently been there for the most of it, searching for him with vastly larger resources than Wen Qing, still finding nothing.
It made his guilt just that much worse.
Thankfully Wen Qing had happier stories, too. Graduation, for one, and Wen Ning having gotten a girlfriend. This was great news to both Wei Ying, who had spent a considerable amount of time trying to boost Wen Ning’s self-esteem in the past years, and Lan Zhan, who had very clearly listened in on their phone conversation with a suspicious frown on his face.
Wei Ying had lots of funny stories to tell as well, although some of them were a little, uh, well, sort of embarrassing now that he had another point of view to consider. Everything was put into a full context. A context that was extremely embarrassing for both him and Lan Zhan.
“--and then Lan Zhan stormed off, and – oh no, hahaha, no way, Lan Zhan, you were jealous, then, too, weren’t you? I can’t believe it.” Wei Ying wiped his eyes, laughing again.
Lan Zhan didn’t dignify that with an answer, and instead just sipped his tea in a very collected manner. His ears were red, though.
“Sounds to me like you were trying to desperately get a reaction out of him,” Wen Qing said, the absolute bloodthirsty savage.
Wei Ying blushed. “W-well, I-- it, it was funny! Lan Zhan never gives big reactions, and then he did!”
“I bet,” Wen Qing said, voice very dry.
“You know what, I don’t think you deserve our fun cultivation world stories. Lan Zhan, let’s order food and watch a romantic movie.”
“With whose money?” Wen Qing asked.
They did order food and watch a romantic movie, the three of them. With Wen Qing’s money, though Wei Ying did attempt to convince her that he was going to pay back, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
Lan Zhan looked kind of dejected for not having the means to pay himself, which probably felt weird after a lifetime of being super-rich, so Wei Ying put the rest of his energy into trying to make him forget that.
And the movie was nice, though Lan Zhan looked uncomfortable for most of it, since it had scenes where the main character lady was in her underwear, and kissed the man of her dreams with tongue and all, and also one tasteful fade-to-black sex scene during which Lan Zhan just promptly stood up and disappeared into Wei Ying’s room to meditate.
“He’s going to have a nervous breakdown once you visit the mall and walk past a women’s lingerie boutique,” Wen Qing said.
“It’s sweet that you think we’ll make it to the mall before that,” Wei Ying replied, and then went to soothe his emotionally disturbed other-dimension boyfriend.
-
The list of things Lan Zhan seemed to find distasteful about the modern world was about the same length as the list of things he looked to be enjoying.
The crowds, instant noodles, and gratuitous sexualization of everything made the corners of Lan Zhan’s mouth tight. He did not like instant anything, be it noodle, coffee, or rice. It was impossible to get him out of the house during rush hours, which was fair and also probably good for both of their sanity. And the sexualization – ha!
Wei Ying had to watch Lan Zhan either avert his gaze in embarrassment or catch him glaring at Wei Ying for having the audacity to talk to anyone who didn’t wear a long-sleeved shirt. Miniskirts were another thing altogether. The way Lan Zhan looked like he wanted to die when seeing those was always hilarious.
Meanwhile, he seemed genuinely impressed with search engines, nature documentaries, and different types of classical music.
Once Wen Qing sold the jewelry for an atrocious amount of money (they wouldn’t have to worry about living costs for at least a few months), Wei Ying got his phone working. That led to a whole evening of just searching for answers to very silly questions.
“What is the longest a human can stay awake?’” Wei Ying tapped the screen. “Huh. Eleven days. Wild.”
“Mn.”
“You think it would be different with a golden core?”
“Mn.”
“Too bad we can’t search for the answer here.”
“...Wei Ying.”
“What! I’m just saying, you guys don’t have search engines! Someone has to do the science!”
“Wei Ying. Do not deprive yourself of sleep when we go back.”
“I’ll talk you around to it. Let’s see, uh, ‘ how long’s the biggest dick in the world ’ – Lan Zhan! Give me back my phone! Lan Zhan, this is bullying!”
Lan Zhan also loved headphones.
It was probably nice to listen to music while not having to deal with the constant noises of a city around them. Though Wei Ying noticed that Lan Zhan sometimes put the headphones on just for the noise-canceling and not because of any music listening purposes.
Also, the documentaries! Lan Zhan seemed pretty averse to all kinds of acted movies they’d tried out, always finding something improper and baffling about them, but when they’d watched a thing about deep-sea creatures, Lan Zhan had only stared at the screen, wide-eyed and fascinated.
Outside the apartment, Lan Zhan’s least favorite things seemed to be all the malls and tensely populated streets with a lot of flashing advertisements. This was probably also because the more people were present, the more he got stared at.
Too handsome, his Lan Zhan! And with the headband as well! They got stopped a few times, Lan Zhan staring off rigidly as Wei Ying talked to the group of girls brave enough to approach them. After they got home, Lan Zhan had bitten his neck like a maniac.
“Lan Zhan! You can’t get jealous over me talking to girls who find you hot!” Wei Ying had told him but gotten only more kiss marks for his effort.
Once they’d gotten Lan Zhan a very minimalist wardrobe consisting of loose garments in pale blues and whites, he’d gotten even more stares. He looked so effortlessly fashionable it was kind of astounding. And next to him, Wei Ying in his jeans and hoodie and cap, seemed like he was still from another world.
It was funny. Lan Zhan bit him again for saying that out loud, though, so Wei Ying kept those thoughts to himself.
The cat cafe they visited was a huge success, as well as the museum of contemporary art. Lan Zhan looked calm and happy surrounded by people-friendly cats, drinking his green tea and gently petting a white one with long fur. Wei Ying took a picture of him, and couldn’t believe he now had evidence of that.
In the museum, Lan Zhan’s eyes scanned everything with interest, and when Wei Ying attempted to explain that most of it was probably just meant to evoke emotion, Lan Zhan nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t know what emotion it was that Lan Zhan was feeling, but it didn’t seem bad, at least.
It was a fun trip overall. They got ice cream afterwards since the first bag of candies had disappeared in record time and Wei Ying got a confirmation that Lan Zhan would indeed eat anything sweet.
He also got some ice cream on his nose, and Lan Zhan wiped it away with his thumb. And then licked that thumb clean. In public. No one even noticed, and Wei Ying went so red he practically inhaled the rest of his ice cream to get out of the situation before he’d combust.
What Lan Zhan seemed to enjoy most about everything, though, was him . Just him, being in his natural habitat in the twenty-first century, navigating the city without having to think, pointing at familiar things and laughingly explaining them.
Wei Ying took him to all the tourist spots by bus rather than the metro, just so that he could see more of the views and the city. But whenever Wei Ying reached past him to the window to excitedly tell him something about the building they passed or the street they were in, Lan Zhan’s eyes were always on him.
And then Wei Ying would notice, and get kind of flustered, yet it was always very hard to break that eye contact. He managed, somehow.
It was kind of overshadowing everything else about their being here. Getting to know each other in a new context.
It was even more fun when Wei Ying understood more and more of Lan Zhan’s behavior back in the Cloud Recesses post hoc. Like one night, when Lan Zhan had fallen asleep the second the clock hit nine and Wei Wuxian was staring at the ceiling, head against Lan Zhan’s chest, slowly falling asleep, and then –
“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, oh my god,” he’d said suddenly, tapping at Lan Zhan’s shoulder to wake him up. “I just realized something! That song, was that a love song for me?”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan said, hoarse and sleepy, not opening his eyes.
“Lan Zhan! That is so romantic! I never would’ve guessed!”
“Mn. I know,” came the dry reply.
“Does it have a name?”
There was a slight silence, before Lan Zhan opened his eyes just a bit. “...Wangxian.”
Wei Ying couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him. “Lan Zhan! Had you named it already when I asked you the first time?”
A pause. “Mn.”
“Hahaha, no wonder you didn’t tell me! That’s so embarrassing,” Wei Wuxian said. “Were you just going to play the song and pine away? Lan Zhan, you are such a maiden!”
Lan Zhan had kissed him to shut him up, then, which was undeniably a successful strategy.
...Which was another thing, too. The newly found physical element to their relationship.
They slept together every night, and they held hands a lot and made out even more. This all made Wei Ying very giddy, of course. But they were both extremely aware of Wen Qing sleeping in the next room, and during the day there was a lot to do and more to see, so their experimentation always stopped above the waist.
Wei Ying really wanted to get dicked down, though. Really wanted to.
It was pretty evident that Lan Zhan felt the same when they’d suddenly hear keys going into the lock of the front door during a heated make-out session and then having to spring apart before Wen Qing caught them.
Lan Zhan’s expression was always controlled, but his ears were bright red and the beat of his heart thundering.
It was a small miracle when Wen Qing told them she was going to move out.
“What! You’d leave us here, poor us, together, only the two of us? Whatever will we do?” Wei Ying whined miserably, but the look Wen Qing gave him was enough to stop that in its tracks.
Lan Zhan’s reaction was the one Wen Qing liked a lot more – he congratulated Wen Qing on the apartment, of course, and then offered to help with the move. Wen Qing, who loved Lan Zhan, graciously accepted.
The two of them got along weirdly well. It was maybe the mix of complete indifference towards the world and the absolute exasperation towards Wei Ying’s antics mixed with some kind of protective streak that made them so great a match.
They were very polite to each other, and since neither was prone to forcing conversation, almost always sat in companionable silence whenever Wei Ying left the room.
Lan Zhan had made a very good first impression by being the perfect roommate: clean, quiet, and mindful. Wen Qing had made a very good first impression by caring about Wei Ying, and also being a lesbian while doing it.
Also, Wei Ying’s world had kind of shattered when Wen Qing showed a picture of her girlfriend Mianmian to Lan Zhan, who blinked at the picture with what seemed to be shock, and then asked: “Luo Qingyang?”
“What? You know Mianmian’s real name?” Wei Ying had screeched.
Wen Qing looked surprised as well, but before she asked, Lan Zhan had already explained: “She was a cultivator in the Jin sect.”
“No way! No way, there is an other-dimension Mianmian! How come I didn’t see her? You must’ve liked her if you remember her name!”
Lan Zhan shook his head. “She left the cultivation world after the Sunshot Campaign. She felt that serving under a sect leader as shameful as Jin Guangshan was disgraceful.”
“Aiyah! Such integrity!”
Wen Qing had nodded, a bit baffled looking still. “She does have a backbone.”
So then Wen Qing moved out, which left Wei Ying and Lan Zhan with an empty apartment. Before the day of the move, Wei Ying made a trip to the store by himself and bought some stuff, carefully hopeful of a wild night afterward.
He was ready to turn on his charms to make Lan Zhan lose it.
He wouldn’t have needed to. The moment Wen Qing’s moving truck was loaded and they exchanged their goodbyes, Wen Qing’s ever-suffering and Wei Ying’s theatrically tearful, they went back up and the moment the door closed, Wei Ying was being pressed against it.
Lan Zhan’s mouth was on his neck, his knee pushing between Wei Ying’s thighs, hands disappearing beneath his shirt.
Oh, he’d waited for this for so long, and it seemed the sentiment was shared. Lan Zhan bit a mark on top of the one already fading, and Wei Ying groaned: “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, take me to bed.”
-
During the year he’d spent in the cultivation world, touching himself had been a bit tricky thing. The noises carried in the Jingshi, and while knowing Lan Zhan was just in the next room had a kind of thrill in and of itself, the thought of getting caught wasn’t one he especially liked.
Not when he thought the other would be disgusted. With his newly acquired knowledge, he probably would’ve let himself get caught once or twice for the sake of it.
In any case, he’d only done it whenever he knew Lan Zhan would be away for sure, and even then he felt kind of nervous about it, like he had to constantly watch over his shoulder in case the guy appeared out of thin air to chastise him.
It had been a frustrating year.
Nothing compared to the frustration that he was suffering now, though. Lan Zhan was above him, pressing him to the mattress, slowly moving his hands on Wei Ying’s bare chest and staring at him with a heated gaze.
Like he wanted to learn every inch of his body. Brushing against his collarbones, sliding down to his waist, drawing circles onto his hipbones with his thumbs. Then, instead of going down where they should have, they went back up.
The long fingers grazed his nipples, and Wei Ying groaned a miserable “Lan Zhan!”
“Mn,” the other only said, unbothered by his absolute agony.
Wei Ying was so hard, and he wasn’t even being touched.
The only relieving factor of the situation was that he could see the bulge in Lan Zhan’s pants as well, straining the fabric in a way that was both impressive and intimidating.
God. He really wanted that inside of him, huh?
“I really thought you wanted to fuck me,” Wei Ying said, trying to egg him on. “I thought I’d be nailed to the bed by now! We’ve waited for a year, how much longer are you going to wait?”
It seemed to work, kind of, as Lan Zhan lowered down to kiss his neck, bite and nibble while letting his hands still continue their roaming. Wei Ying pulled him closer by the neck, but Lan Zhan took a hold of both of his wrists with one hand and pressed them above him, unable to contribute to the proceedings.
“Are you thinking of tying me up? That’s so dirty, Lan Zhan!”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmured into his skin, and the tone was heated.
“You could if you wanted to. You could make sure I wasn’t moving an inch while you opened me up,” he said, constantly aware of the burning touch of those hands on him. “I have lube – lubricant, in the drawer. I bought it the other day, I was so sure you were going to fuck me.”
Lan Zhan growled, the hold of his wrists tightening. Wei Ying squirmed while the other one finally dipped down, palming him through the fabric of his pants.
“A-ah! Lan Zhan, why don’t you undress as well? I’ve been imagining you for a year now!”
He groaned as the hand over his crotch squeezed and let go.
“Keep your hands up,” Lan Zhan ordered, and Wei Ying wanted to die but nodded anyway, keeping the damn hands up.
Instead of stripping himself, Lan Zhan pulled one of his legs to his shoulder, shorts riding up Wei Ying’s thigh and revealing more skin. Lan Zhan’s mouth was there, then: on the inside of his thigh just above the knee, licking and biting and generally making Wei Ying go insane.
Lan Zhan still looked so collected that if Wei Ying didn’t see the red of his ears he might’ve thought the man was completely unaffected.
“Wanted to do this,” Lan Zhan said between kisses. “When I saw you back then.”
“Ha – ah, why didn’t you? You could’ve just made me shut up with the silencing spell and – Ah! Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, are you a beast? Why are you biting this hard? Did you want to ravage me?”
The lips moved higher on his thigh, leaving marks wherever they touched. But before they got too close to Wei Ying’s dick, Lan Zhan pulled back.
And promptly ripped the shorts off of him.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying gasped, then couldn’t help the burst of laughter. The audacity of this man! Tearing off his pants!
“Wanted to do this as well,” Lan Zhan said, and Wei Ying wished it wasn’t so hot, but it was. It totally was.
But then Wei Ying was completely naked under Lan Zhan’s eyes, who just stared again. At the erection. That was painful and red and just there between them, and if Wei Ying wasn’t going to die from the frustration he sure was going to die from embarrassment.
“Aiyah, Lan Zhan, what are you staring at?” Wei Ying whined. Only his dick didn’t get the memo and instead just twitched, and Lan Zhan’s eyes darkened further.
His legs were raised up, then, Lan Zhan spreading them and looking down, and oh – oh god, Wei Ying had been naked before a person before, and he definitely wasn’t insecure, but having the man he was madly in love with just look at him like that –
Lan Zhan’s ironclad resolve seemed to snap, then. He pulled off his own shirt, and thank god for that because Wei Ying suddenly had so much more to focus on. Lan Zhan was incredibly good-looking. So hot. The handstands clearly had had a purpose.
And then he folded the fucking shirt, and Wei Ying was a goner. It was the moment he realized he was in deep because he was so filled with adoration for that man that for a second he didn’t even remember the absolute agony of his sexual frustration.
Lan Zhan was then getting the lube from the drawer and coating his fingers with it, and then Wei Ying had cold fingers over his entrance. He felt his lower stomach tightening, heat spreading all over him.
“Lan Zha-AH! Fuck!”
The man said something about profanities, but Wei Ying could not think about anything just then, only about the fingers working inside him, opening him up with what must’ve been the endurance of a saint, because if Wei Ying was this desperate right now then Lan Zhan must’ve been doubly so.
“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, how do you know how to do this, huh? I thought I’d have to – ah! Ha, I thought I’d have to give you directions down there,” Wei Ying teased.
“There are texts,” Lan Zhan replied, ears flaming. “In the library pavilion.”
“Oh god, cultivation world sex ed cannot be applicable, what with your purity thing– ah! Fuck, Lan Zhan, do that again!”
“Is it not?” The color of Lan Zhan's eyes looked closer to black than gold. His fingers were long and deft and felt so big that Wei Ying could not believe he was going to take something even bigger than this. That he wanted to.
Wei Ying groaned. “It is, it is, very applicable! Lan Zhan, just put it in!”
“No,” Lan Zhan said.
He didn’t just stick it in, which was probably good for the general health of Wei Ying’s backside. Then again, the preparation felt like it lasted forever. Wei Ying knew the feeling of it already, having done extensive exploration of his own body. He knew what he liked.
And he had used toys on his ass as well, so he knew what kind of size it could fit. Now, truthfully, none of those had ever been the size of Lan Zhan, who was excessively gifted in this regard, but after a long while of gasping and moaning he felt that just taking the dick with or without pain was better than this torment.
Lan Zhan was just playing with him, one hand preparing him down there while the other was rubbing and tweaking his nipples in an almost punishing way. The man licked over them, tasting the skin that was getting increasingly sweaty as he was writhing against the sheets.
His dick got fully ignored in all of this, yet it kept twitching and leaking.
The only alleviation in all of it was how there was just a little patch of wet fabric over Lan Zhan’s bulge as well, clear evidence of his desire.
“Lan Zhaaan,” Wei Ying whined. “Please, that’s enough, that’s more than enough, I will die if you don’t put it in! Please!”
Lan Zhan’s breathing hitched, fingers pulling from his hole. And then, Lan Zhan took out the absolute monster of a cock, definitely just as hard and tortured-looking as Wei Ying’s was. Just, like, inhumanly big.
Wei Ying’s mouth went dry, jaw loose. His dick had the opposite reaction.
His legs were spread wider then, and Wei Ying would’ve helped with that if he had any strength left, and then there was something huge poking at his loosened, slick entrance. Slowly, a little shakily, Lan Zhan pushed in.
Wei Ying might’ve screamed a little, but that was quickly cut off by Lan Zhan’s mouth against his, muffled into the heated, desperate kiss as Lan Zhan kept pushing and Wei Ying kept feeling fuller, and holy fuck-- this was his first time with Lan Zhan, and this was his first time doing this, this specific thing.
It was all too much and too hot and if Lan Zhan had had a hand on his dick then Wei Ying would’ve probably come just then.
Lan Zhan bottomed out as Wei Ying let out a broken moan, voice already feeling hoarse.
“Wei Ying,” the man murmured against his lips, like pleading.
What he meant to ask of Wei Ying, he had no clue. His head felt fuzzy, very focused on the sensations his lower half was currently experiencing. Lan Zhan’s hands were gripping his waist tight.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying replied, and this was taken as permission because then Lan Zhan pulled halfway out and just slammed back in, absolutely brutal, and Wei Ying keened.
He was being fucked, then. Like, seriously fucked. Lan Zhan, with or without his golden core, was powerful. And now his incredible restraint was fraying, as he slammed into him over and over, so fast and hard Wei Ying was moving up on the sheets with every move.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, s-so strong, too strong, have mercy on me! Don’t you know I haven’t done this before?”
Lan Zhan, the bastard, somehow got harder inside of him. He bit into Wei Ying’s neck, only increasing his speed, the rhythm intense. Like he was administering punishment for bad behavior.
Oh, Wei Ying had found a button to push.
“Ah-- ah, Lan-- Lan Zhan! You don’t – hngh – you don’t believe me? It’s true, it’s true, I’ve only done it once, it was a h-handjob-- ah! Lan Zhan!”
Lan Zhan’s grip on his waist slid down to his thighs and from there to his ass, groping him roughly.
The golden eyes looked bloodshot, raging. He bit into the junction of Wei Ying’s neck, then got higher to his jaw, his ear.
The pace kept fast even then. Wei Ying’s entire body was jostled like that, bent in half, a ragdoll in the hands of the esteemed Hanguang-jun who plowed into him with the force of a man starved for a year.
He felt the stretch, having something so big disappear into him again and again, and sensed the sting of it all the way down his back. His hair was loose, spread over the sheets and sticking to his sweaty skin, and his mouth was probably kiss-swollen and wide open, gasping for a breath Lan Zhan didn’t want to give him.
“Does it feel good, ah? Does it – ah – feel good inside of me?”
Lan Zhan replied with a deep kiss, hungry, biting his lower lip. His hips were grinding down on him without mercy.
“You could’ve done me like this the w-whole time, ha, you could’ve just-- ah! Sneaked into my room, in the Jingshi, at midnight. Just pulled – pulled the sheets off, and taken me then! L-Lan Zhan, you could’ve fucked me like this for a year!”
A hand slid back up to pinch his nipple, and Wei Ying choked on a moan. Lan Zhan didn’t take well to being teased, it seemed, getting increasingly more heavy-handed with him. There was a slick sound, skin slapping skin, as Lan Zhan’s thrusts got quicker, shorter.
He didn’t change the position at all, fucking into Wei Ying for what felt like both an eternity and a blink of an eye, but was most likely something close to forty minutes. An absurdly long time to spend on his back, desperate and on the edge of coming almost the entire time.
Lan Zhan was supposed to be a virgin. His endurance was insane.
“L-Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, have mercy! Spare me! This is too much, you’re too big, it’s too good,” he groaned after it started feeling like he would actually die, like his entire being would burst into flames.
Lan Zhan’s rhythm faltered, then, just a little bit, and Wei Ying could tell he was close as well. “Lan Zhan, please touch me, please! Ah – have mercy on me!”
“Already touching,” Lan Zhan said, and Wei Ying could’ve cried, but also felt just a little bit like laughing too.
“You know full well what I mean – ah! – Lan Zhan! Please, mercy,” he whined.
Lan Zhan kissed him again, tongue slipping into his mouth, tasting him, while one of Lan Zhan’s hands grasped Wei Ying from the front.
One, two, three thrusts in the rhythm of Lan Zhan’s strokes, and then Wei Ying was coming, his vision whitening just for a moment and his scream of pleasure getting lost against Lan Zhan’s hot mouth on his.
Then Lan Zhan was pushing deeper into him, grinding, and a moment later there was hot warmth flooding into him. The hands on his waist were holding him tightly, sure to leave marks.
They separated then, inches from each other’s lips, gasping still. Sated. Out of breath, like they’d run a marathon together.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighed, completely dazed.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replied, pulling out what absolutely couldn’t have been a still hard cock. It couldn’t have, because they’d been at it for forever, and Lan Zhan was still a human, right?
But as he glanced down again it was clear that he had indeed seen right.
Wei Ying made a quick estimation in his orgasm-hazy head, the slickness between his cheeks and the soreness of his hole, and came to the conclusion that there was no way he wasn’t going to enjoy this as many times as he could.
“Lan Zhan, let’s do it again,” he said. “I want to try it from behind!”
His impossibly hot, impossibly virile lover had his gaze glassed over for a split of a second before Wei Ying was being turned over, ass raised up, legs knocked apart, and Lan Zhan entered him again.
They spent most of the night like that, connected by the hips in the best way possible.
In the morning, when Lan Zhan asked him whether it really was true that he’d been the first person fucking Wei Ying, he got another free round for telling him yes.
-
A few days later, in a very cloudy afternoon where Lan Zhan refused to order food since he’d somehow fallen in love with the modern kitchen (something about the stove and the oven and the fridge) and was now making Wei Ying something like a three-course meal with ingredients Wei Ying hadn’t known could be found at the corner store, Jiang Cheng called.
Wei Ying was hugging Lan Zhan’s back while he chopped vegetables, head resting against the shoulder blades, breathing in the sandalwood scent of the new perfume Wei Ying had bought him. They both stiffened a little at the sudden noise.
Wei Ying pulled away reluctantly and went to answer. The reluctance disappeared once he saw the caller ID, replaced with nervousness.
He swallowed before answering: “Jiang Cheng?”
“Hi,” said a gruff voice.
Wei Ying didn’t know what level of anger they were currently dealing with, so he played it safe with a “What’s up?”
There was a moment of silence before Jiang Cheng replied: “Since we’re doing our communication through Wen Qing now, I figured she told you I’ve got a job for you.”
Wei Ying blinked, turning to look Lan Zhan with surprise as if he’d heard what Jiang Cheng had just said. Lan Zhan merely raised an eyebrow at him.
“You do?”
“That’s what I said,” Jiang Cheng snapped.
“Oh. Oh, okay. What– what is it?”
There was the sound of a huff on the other end. “Completely useless stuff. Social media managing. You can work from home, no need to give you an office since you’re leaving again in a year.”
There was an accusation in those words, a strained note that wasn’t crushing only through the fact that Wei Ying could hear the tiredness there as well. It had been going on for so long, hadn’t it? These difficult feelings between them. The distancing from each other.
Wei Ying wanted desperately to hold on. “I’ll take it. I – thank you. Jiang Cheng, thank you so much.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, I…Jiang Cheng. I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Wei Ying said. Jiang Cheng didn’t hang up, so he dared to continue: “I would have contacted you if I could have, last year.”
A scoff. “Right.”
“I could explain. It’s a ridiculous explanation that you won’t believe, but I’m willing to tell it if you wanted to listen,” Wei Ying said. His mouth felt too dry.
Jiang Cheng was quiet for a while, moments that ticked by painfully slowly.
Then, “Yeah. Okay. Fine.”
Oh.
“Really?” Wei Ying asked, and sounded amazed even to his own ears.
“Didn’t I just say that?” Jiang Cheng asked. “You come to Wuhan, though. I’m not doing another extempore trip to Shanghai.”
“I-- yeah, okay. Yeah. We’ll come.”
“You’re taking the boyfriend?” Jiang Cheng asked, voice disdainful.
“I can’t leave him alone, he won’t survive,” Wei Ying said. “You’ll understand when I explain.”
“Right.”
“Right,” Wei Ying said back. “I’m. I’m glad.”
Jiang Cheng was quiet for another long while. They were very bad at this. Wei Ying’s chest was doing strange things again, hopeful and terrified and desperately wanting to start the process of cleaning up the mess their relationship had become.
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng finally said, voice hoarse. Then, “I’ve got to go. I’ll send you the details about the work by e-mail.”
“Sure. Is next weekend fine? For the trip there.”
“It’s fine,” Jiang Cheng said.
So they said their goodbyes, and Jiang Cheng hung up, and Wei Ying stared at the phone for so long that Lan Zhan came to hover over him with a worried frown.
Wei Ying took in a shaky breath, setting the phone on the table. Then he hugged Lan Zhan, who easily took him in his arms, fitting together like two puzzle pieces.
“We will be traveling?” Lan Zhan asked.
“Yeah,” Wei Ying mumbled into his shirt. It was white and spotless even while cooking. “We’ll go visit Jiang Cheng.”
“Mn.”
Lan Zhan did not sound judgmental, even though his opinion on Jiang Cheng couldn’t have been described with any kind of positive words. Perhaps he saw how much it meant to Wei Ying.
“He’s my brother,” Wei Ying explained anyway.
“I know,” said Lan Zhan, and it sounded like understanding.
Something tentative was blooming inside him, a feeling that made him want to burrow deeper into Lan Zhan’s arms, wrap himself closer and tighter against him.
The smell of vegetables sizzling in the pan was filling the apartment, the muted notes of some tv series’ opening playing in the apartment next to them. Lan Zhan’s shirt was soft, made of cotton. His arms felt safe around him.
It was so quiet, so calm. The tables had been full of take-out food and books and trash a year ago, proofs of the feverish pressure of that life. Now the same surfaces were clean, ordered. Lan Zhan had bought a plant because the florist said it cleaned the air.
There was no pressure here anymore, and Wei Ying could breathe. At that moment, he thought he might’ve really been happy.
So, so happy.
And in a few days, they would travel to Wuhan by train, Lan Zhan again ignoring the views in order to gaze at him. They would meet with Jiang Cheng, and everything would be still difficult, but maybe just a little bit easier than before.
They would visit Shijie’s grave, there, and Wei Ying’s heart would break and heal itself in the time it took to apologize and then attempt to bury that guilt in the same soil Shijie was resting in.
In a little more time Lan Zhan would actually take him out to eat at a four-star restaurant, doing the whole shebang of red roses and champagne and afterward kneeling with a ring that was made out of jade and clearly one of the things they were supposed to sell.
He would laugh so much that he’d cry and Lan Zhan would only look at him very fondly, and then he would say yes, of course. Afterward, Lan Zhan would rail him into the mattress with enthusiasm.
They’d spend the remainder of the year doing everything they could, seeing as much of the world as they wanted to, and Lan Zhan would adapt – slowly, but he would adapt – and Wei Ying would relearn to love this world as well, with all of its virtues and vices.
But right now, in the kitchen of this modern world he was born into, held by the man he was very much in love with, Wei Ying did not think about any of that.
Instead, he thought about the bubbly, light warmth within himself, and for once, didn’t feel guilty at all.