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***
"Lan Zhan? What are you doing here?"
Wei Ying squints in the darkness at the figure approaching him, second-guessing himself for a moment before the figure steps out into the narrow pool of light that Wei Ying is casting with his phone, and sure enough: tall, clothed all in white, mouth set in a thin line, watching Wei Ying with judgmental eyes.
Great. Just great.
It's not that Wei Ying has anything against Lan Zhan—on the contrary. But they aren't exactly on the best terms these days, and Wei Ying needs this job. Lan Zhan getting in the way will just complicate matters.
"I heard of a disturbance," Lan Zhan says in that quiet but resonant voice that Wei Ying knows so well. "I wanted to see for myself what was going on."
Wei Ying sighs, then puts on a big smile. "Well, I'm on it! So you don't need to be here. You can go back to Cloud Recesses secure in the knowledge that everything is absolutely in hand."
"Hmm."
And that's all he says. Wei Ying rolls his eyes and gives another sigh.
"Look, Lan Zhan, I've got this, all right? I know the owner of the place, and we already decided I'll be the one to figure out what the hell is going on, so really, you're good."
Lan Zhan is silent for a moment, and it's hard to tell what he's thinking. More so than usual, that is, because it's so dark. Wei Ying waits for Lan Zhan to purse his lips, turn around, and walk off, but instead, Lan Zhan steps further into the feeble light of Wei Ying's phone and says, "If it's all right by you, I would rather stay."
Wei Ying gives up. Stubborn as a mule, that man is. Always has been. But Wei Ying can't exactly kick him out. "Fine. Stay, just…don't get in my way, all right?"
Lan Zhan slowly nods, looking as intense as ever.
Lan Zhan, man. It's been well over a year since they've seen each other, and even that had been a perfunctory sort of meeting. They'd both found themselves at the same rundown hotel during another job that Wei Ying had been hired for. God only knew why Lan Zhan was there. Anyway, they'd run into each other, shot the shit—well. Wei Ying had mostly shot the shit, Lan Zhan had stood there like a wall, silent and haughty, and then they'd gone their separate ways again.
The thing is, Wei Ying doesn't hate Lan Zhan. It's just that Lan Zhan has this way of making Wei Ying feel bad just for existing, and that gets exhausting. They'd almost been friends once, back at school, before everything went down. Wei Ying had worn Lan Zhan sufficiently down that they would study together, even take meals together. Lan Zhan would listen to Wei Ying's chatter, contribute a word here and there, and it was good, it was nice. Wei Ying liked Lan Zhan, thought he was cool—great, even. One of the best people Wei Ying knew. But then…the conflict between the sects, and the Wens, and well. Lan Zhan hadn't been on Wei Ying's side. Had tried to get him to relent. To come back to Gusu with him and, presumably, give up the Wens to the other sects to deal with.
Obviously, to hell with that, and ever since then, even though the conflict has been over for some time and the Wens are actually safe, having been pardoned, they've been on the outs. It's too bad, but also not Wei Ying's fault. And thus, the occasional meetings over the last ten years, mostly on jobs. Lan Zhan goes because he's Hanguang-jun and is known for going where the chaos is. Wei Ying goes because he needs the meager money the jobs pay and also because he's good at it. It's what he does.
"What do you know about what's been happening here?" Wei Ying asks just to fill in the silence.
"People have been disappearing," Lan Zhan says, his low timber echoing off the empty walls of the old manor.
"Yeah. Weird shit, man. And it all seems to center on this house," Wei Ying confirms.
"What have you been able to find out?"
Wei Ying shrugs. "Not much. I just got here myself, haven't had a chance to really dig in yet," he says pointedly, but as ever, the implication slides off of Lan Zhan like water off a duck's back as he nods, unmoving. Fine. Wei Ying supposes they can work together on this.
"Do you feel any…presence?"
They've never talked about it, not really. Lan Zhan has said his piece about the sort of cultivation Wei Ying engages in, and Wei Ying let it go in one ear and out the other, because what choice does he have? And he wasn't about to tell Lan Zhan why he didn't carry a sword anymore, or why he could feel resentful energy when nobody else did. Now, Wei Ying decides to be generous in interpreting Lan Zhan's tone and ignore any implications.
"No," he tells him. "Which makes it harder. But it's cool, I've got an app for that." He shakes his phone, making the light jump along the dark walls, Lan Zhan's face going in and out of shadow.
Lan Zhan nods. "The one you developed?"
"Yeah," Wei Ying says with a hint of defiance. Other people have begun to use his app, as well, and it's actually gained popularity and is the reason Wei Ying knows he'll have a roof over his head for the next few months. Not a bad deal, really. He's working on others, tweaking them in his spare time. He's got one right now that's supposed to act as whatever talisman someone might need in a pinch—just long enough for them to escape danger. It's pretty neat, if he says so himself.
"So what does the app tell you?" Lan Zhan asks, indicating Wei Ying's phone with his chin.
Wei Ying swipes over to the app, then frowns. "Nothing. Literally, there's nothing. It's like this manor is totally clean." Which is weird, but the app isn't always perfect at detecting that shit.
"Hmm."
"Yeah." Wei Ying looks back up at Lan Zhan. "But the thing is, people have begun disappearing after coming here."
"Mostly teenagers, is that right?"
"Yeah. Idiots," Wei Ying says with a hint of fondness in his voice. He and Jiang Cheng would absolutely have done that as kids, had they been around here. The thought no longer stabs at him the way it used to, but it's still an ache—dull and distant, but there. "Anyway, I know there's something to this place, I just gotta figure out what."
"Allow me to help," Lan Zhan says quietly.
"Well, not like I can stop you," Wei Ying breathes. He feels Lan Zhan still even further and sighs, feeling bad. "Sorry. I just…I'm not used to working with someone. I've been on my own too long."
Lan Zhan steps closer, watching Wei Ying intently. "I only wish to help."
"I know, Lan Zhan."
For a moment, they just look at one another, and regret begins to fill Wei Ying so much, he nearly chokes on it. Regret for the boys they had once been; regret for everything that's happened between them, for everything that could have been.
Wei Ying isn't a total idiot. He had been, back in the day, don't get him wrong. But he's since figured out that what he had felt for Lan Zhan back in their school days wasn't mere desire for friendship. That he'd all but been pulling on his pigtails to get him to notice Wei Ying, to pay attention to him whenever Wei Ying had been around him. There'd been a very good reason for that, even if it hadn't been apparent to Wei Ying himself.
If only Lan Zhan knew. He'd be horrified.
Wei Ying mentally shakes himself off.
"Does your app indicate the presence of anything else?"
"Nope," Wei Ying says with another sigh. "We gotta do this the old-fashioned way." With that, he tucks his phone into his front pocket so the flashlight can still illuminate the place, and goes for his dizi. He bets Lan Zhan won't like it, but that's too fucking bad—this is how Wei Ying works.
Surprisingly, Lan Zhan is quiet on the matter as Wei Ying brings Chenqing up to his lips and begins to play. Resentful energy calls to other resentful energy, and just because his phone hadn't picked anything up, doesn't mean it isn't there. It likes to hide sometimes, in the cracks, under the floorboards. But Chenqing is good at picking it out.
After a minute of playing, Wei Ying begins to feel something, a wrongness about the place where there had been nothing before. Good. That's what they need.
Wei Ying realizes he's closed his eyes and opens them. Lan Zhan is watching him with the same intense gaze as before, and then they begin to see the first tendrils of black smoke appear in the lit-up spots of the room. Wei Ying pauses playing long enough to grab his phone and swipe to another app and press Freeze. Another one of his little inventions, one he hasn't shared with anyone else yet because it isn't yet fully perfected. But it does freeze resentful energy for a time, and the black smoke stills in place, obscuring Lan Zhan's face and white clothing.
Wei Ying tucks Chenqing back into his belt at his side and swipes over to the original app. Now it's going crazy, arrow stuck on ghost. Which is pretty much what Wei Ying had figured, if he's honest.
"Ghost," he says, holding the phone up to Lan Zhan to see. "That's easy enough, isn't it?"
"Mn. Shall we dispatch it together?"
"For old time's sake?" Wei Ying gives him a grin. "Sure, why not. We used to be good at this." Back in the day, they really had been. They'd worked well together. From time to time, Wei Ying misses the companionship of it. The ease of camaraderie.
"Mn." Lan Zhan produces his guqin, then nods to Wei Ying. Wei Ying tucks his phone back into his pocket and grabs Chenqing once again. He nods back at Lan Zhan and they begin to play Rest. Except that instead of dissipating, the resentful energy unfreezes and begins to billow all around them, enveloping them both in darkness so complete even Wei Ying's phone can't compete with it.
"Wei Ying? Wei Ying!"
Wei Ying stops playing, and in the silence, he begins to choke on the smoke. Through his coughing, he calls out, "Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan, are you all right?"
A bright light illuminates the room—Lan Zhan's sword, Wei Ying realizes. It's glowing, cutting through the smoke even as Wei Ying bends in half, still coughing, feeling black smoke filling his lungs, choking him from the inside out. He watches through watery eyes as the smoke begins to circle Lan Zhan's sword, dimming its light somewhat, and it takes him a moment to realize that it isn't enveloping Lan Zhan's sword but being swirled by it, as though Lan Zhan is taking the energy onto it on purpose.
Wei Ying remembers that he can control resentful energy better than anyone, and through the choking, puts Chenqing to his lips and does his best to play. Immediately, the energy enveloping them both begins to dissipate, as though running away, back into the walls and under the floorboards.
Once it's done, Wei Ying can breathe again, and he does, wheezing, hands on his thighs.
"Wei Ying!" Lan Zhan is on him the next moment, his sword already tucked away. "Wei Ying, are you all right?"
Wei Ying coughs one last time and nods, doing his best to produce a smile to reassure him that he's fine. Embarrassed, but fine. "Yeah," he says, his voice raspy. "A little bit of resentful energy can't take me down, I eat that shit for breakfast."
Lan Zhan nods, stepping back. "It didn't respond to Rest," he says, somewhat unnecessarily.
"Or it did, but not in a good way," Wei Ying points out. "Fuck me." He straightens up. "Well, I guess we gotta do it the hard way." They look at one another, Wei Ying cycling through the possibilities. "Hey, what about Inquiry? Think it would respond?"
"It would be compelled to, yes."
"Seems strong enough that it might resist," Wei Ying says.
Lan Zhan holds his gaze. "I'm stronger."
Wei Ying cracks a genuine smile and laughs. "Hanguang-jun! You're a man of confidence I see. All right, show me what you've got."
Once again, Lan Zhan produces Wangji, sits down on the floor, and, eyebrows drawn together, plucks out a couple of notes. For a long moment, nothing happens, only Lan Zhan frowning, which looks weirdly cute, like he's mad about this. Well, Wei Ying guesses, Lan Zhan probably isn't used to being defied. After all, Wei Ying hasn't been in his life for quite a while.
But then, two notes sound, loud in the quiet room. Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan in question.
"Go away," Lan Zhan says, looking up at him, and it takes Wei Ying a minute to figure out he's not telling Wei Ying to get lost but explaining what the notes had meant.
"Huh. Rude. Ask it what it's doing here."
Lan Zhan plucks out a few more chords, and the response is almost immediate: the same two notes. Wei Ying doesn't need them translated.
"Super rude! Can it really not respond to your questions?" he asks.
"Not for long," Lan Zhan says grimly, then plays more notes for longer this time. A defiant silence, then: a whole note sentence, sounding discordant and strange. "It says that what he's doing here is none of our business and it has no quarrel with us so we should leave before it gets really annoyed."
"Too late for that, it seems," Wei Ying says, tapping his lips with Chenqing. "Shouldn't it be answering the questions?"
"Yes," Lan Zhan says, frowning. "Allow me to rephrase the question as an order." More playing, more silence on the other end. Then, sounding almost reluctant, the ghost or whatever the fuck it is plucks out several notes on Wangji. Lan Zhan's face relaxes minutely. "Ah. He has been here for a long time, it seems." Lan Zhan plays more, then gets another response. "I asked him what he's done with the people who've shown up here, and he says he's taught them a lesson."
"Okay, but who the hell is this guy?" Wei Ying asks.
Lan Zhan plucks the question out in what Wei Ying assumes is an irritated manner, and gets a response almost right away. "His name is Wang Haitao and he is…" Lan Zhan plays more. Another response. Lan Zhan's expression changes minutely. "He was fifteen when he died."
Wei Ying whistles. "No shit. Poor kid. No wonder he was rude to us." He frowns. "What happened to him?"
Lan Zhan asks, receives a reluctant-sounding response. "He got lured in here by a couple of friends…people who he thought were his friends, and—"
Without warning, even as more notes play on the guqin, the resentful energy returns tenfold, immediately obscuring Lan Zhan from view, billowing out until all Wei Ying can see is black smoke, no light left from his phone at all; it's all darkness. He yells out Lan Zhan's name, and thinks he might be hearing his own, but it's hard to tell with the whistling of the wind in his ears. He reaches for his dizi, but before he can even put it to his lips, he suddenly feels light-headed and then his feet are coming off the ground as he rises against his will higher and higher in the air, almost choking on the smoke. He tries to call out to Lan Zhan but can't get enough air to breathe, and then he definitely hears his own name shouted over the wind just as he's slammed against the wall and everything goes absolutely dark.
*
"Wei Ying! Wei Ying? Wake up. Wei Ying!"
Wei Ying comes to slowly, with a feeling that he's been hearing his own name for some time now. He blinks open his eyes and attempts to make out anything, but everything's a bit of a blur. He's resting on something soft, which is unexpected, because the last thing he remembers is hitting the very, very hard wall with his entire body. But his head is cushioned by something that has give to it and smells really good, and familiar, like warm spice and sandalwood…warm spice and sandalwood…
He feels his lips stretch into a smile. "Lan Zhan," he mumbles, nuzzling whatever it is he's resting on. "Lan Zhan…"
"Wei Ying?"
The next moment, his mind catches up with him and Wei Ying wakes up fully, as though drenched in cold water. He shoots up to sitting and sways in place, clutching his head.
"Wei Ying!"
Wei Ying blinks several times to try to clear whatever fog is obscuring his vision. Finally, a familiar face swims into view, an expression of grave concern etched into its lines. "Lan Zhan? What—what happened? Where did all the—" Wei Ying waves his hand around in illustration, "—go?"
"I was able to dispel it for the moment," Lan Zhan says. "How do you feel?"
Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan, who's—sitting on the dirty ground in his pristine white clothes, looking at Wei Ying steadily, eyebrows drawn together. They're very close and it takes Wei Ying an embarrassingly long time to realize that the warmth he feels on his shoulder is Lan Zhan's hand. He doesn't shrug it off, sitting utterly still. "I'm…all right, I think? Just a little dizzy. What the hell happened?"
"I believe," Lan Zhan says, not taking his hand away, "that our culprit got angry. And as he died a child…"
"He never learned to control his temper, eh?"
"Precisely," Lan Zhan says with a nod. "I'm afraid we've lost him for the moment, but he isn't gone completely."
Wei Ying curses, then drops his face into his hands. "Well, that's not great," he mumbles. "What the hell are we gonna do if it won't listen to you or me?"
"I have…a suggestion," Lan Zhan says slowly. "But it will take patience."
Wei Ying lifts his head. "Patience, eh?" He cracks a smile. "Well, then, maybe it's a good thing you're here, because I'm fresh out." Everything hurts, now that he's properly awake, and he feels like an old man, with all the aches and pains. He stretches out his neck, then cracks it. "So what's your patient idea?" he asks when Lan Zhan fails to respond.
"I believe we need to…talk to it. To him. To the boy."
"Talk to him? Didn't we already try that?"
"I believe," Lan Zhan says slowly, "that we went too fast, and asked for too much. I think that he requires more…delicate handling."
Wei Ying sighs and thunks his head against the wall. "Delicate handling, huh? Not sure I'm all that adept at delicate."
Something like a smile hovers over Lan Zhan's lips, and he says, "Allow me to help."
Wei Ying huffs out a laugh and gestures at Lan Zhan. "Knock yourself out."
Lan Zhan nods, then produces Wangji and settles his fingers on the strings. Slowly, he begins to pluck out notes.
"What are you asking him?" Wei Ying asks curiously.
"I'm asking if he is all right."
Just then, two notes sound. "Ohhh, what did he say?"
Lan Zhan purses his lips, then says, crisply, "Fuck off."
Wei Ying cracks up. "I'm starting to like this kid. Tell him he's being rude to his elders."
Lan Zhan shakes his head, then puts his hands over the strings and plays a few more notes. "I'm telling him that I have all the patience in the world and will still be here when he's ready to talk."
Wei Ying whistles. "Lan Zhan, are we settling in for the night? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Mn. I believe he will…feel the need to share. Eventually. I am willing to wait. You are, of course, free to go."
"Uh-uh, no way," Wei Ying protests. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not leaving you alone with a volatile teenager, either." Besides, Wei Ying still needs to get paid for the job. He came here to do it, so he will do it. "Ask him how long he plans on sulking."
"I will do no such thing," Lan Zhan says, then leans back against the wall, settling in. He closes his eyes and breathes evenly. That's right, Wei Ying almost forgot how good Lan Zhan is at meditating. If Wei Ying doesn't distract him, it's going to be a boring fucking night.
"Lan Zhan," he says quietly. "Hey, Lan Zhan."
"Mn?"
"How mad were you when you found me here, huh?" He's mostly asking to needle, but he's curious, too. He wonders what, exactly, went through Lan Zhan's mind when he showed up and saw Wei Ying.
"I wasn't mad," Lan Zhan says quietly. "I am never mad to see you, Wei Ying."
Wei Ying huffs out a laugh. "Could have fooled me," he says just as quietly. "But, all right, supposing you're telling the truth, how mad would your uncle be if he discovered you were working with me again?"
"My uncle," Lan Zhan says, "trusts me to make good decisions. He would trust me here, as well."
"Ha." Wei Ying will believe that when he sees it. "Even when it comes to me?"
Lan Zhan opens his eyes and turns his head. His gaze is intense in the dark. "Yes. Even when it comes to you."
Wei Ying very much doubts this, but all he does is shrug and look away, because something about Lan Zhan's stare is just too much for him at the moment. He realizes that he's thirsty as his throat dry-clicks and wishes he'd thought to bring a bottle of water with him. Oh, well, he'll just have to wait until the petulant teenager ghost is gone for good. Wei Ying sighs and closes his eyes. "This kid reminds me of Jiang Cheng," he says, just for something to say. "Except he's got an excuse." Wei Ying laughs at his own joke. "Don't you think?"
Lan Zhan sounds reluctant when he says, "There are…certain…similarities in temperament."
Wei Ying laughs and tilts his head as he looks at Lan Zhan. "Seen him lately?"
"In passing, at a conference," Lan Zhan says, not looking at Wei Ying.
"Yeah, I know, he's never been your favorite person. But then again," Wei Ying says with another laugh, "I'm not sure I know of anyone who would pass your high bar!" He doesn't mean it in a bad way, really, just that Lan Zhan has standards. And his standards are quite high.
"That's not true," Lan Zhan says quietly. "You do, in fact, know someone."
He sounds serious, the way he usually sounds, but also a little wistful. Is that possible? That Lan Zhan is wistful? Wei Ying wracks his brain for who Lan Zhan could possibly mean. "Do I?" he asks, scratching the back of his head. "I guess the only person I can think of is, like, Mianmian. Is it Mianmian?"
Lan Zhan's gaze is boring into his as he says, "While I do respect Ms. Luo and think very highly of her, no. That is not the person I had in mind."
If they were still teenagers, Lan Zhan might have lashed out or even decked Wei Ying for prying—at least before they'd become friends and even allies. It really is remarkable how self-assured and calm adult Lan Zhan is. Not that he hadn't been as a teenager—he'd been a lot more poised than Wei Ying at that age, that's for damn sure. But this Lan Zhan is more settled into himself, matured. Stately, almost. A god among men. Wei Ying laughs at himself inwardly. That's high praise, isn't it? It's true, though. Lan Zhan is remarkable. If only they could be friends again.
"Well, all right, keep it to yourself," Wei Ying says and turns away. "Listen, I—"
Before he can finish the sentence, three notes sound on Lan Zhan's guqin and they both sit up.
"What did he say?"
"He asked if we were bored yet," Lan Zhan says in a dry voice.
Wei Ying huffs out an annoyed breath. "The brat. Tell him yes."
Lan Zhan plucks out a few notes. "I told him that we are here to help him."
Wei Ying snorts. "Sure, sure. Placate the kid." He sighs and leans back against the wall. "This is gonna be a long night."
They don't talk for a while, Wei Ying busy thinking about the best ways of eliminating the ghost kid that wouldn't kick up his survival instincts, and comes up with nothing. He fiddles with his phone. Lan Zhan meditates.
Finally, when Wei Ying can't take the silence anymore, he says, "Hey, Lan Zhan."
"Mn?"
"Got anyone new in your life I should know about?"
Lan Zhan is quiet for a long moment. Then he says, "In what sense do you mean?"
Wei Ying, in a mood to needle someone, says, "You know…any special someone? You're so handsome and good, surely someone's gotta lock that down."
Lan Zhan's nostrils flare a touch, then he says, “No."
"Aww, really? No takers or is it your standards again?"
Lan Zhan looks at him with that intense gaze of his, as though he means to drill through Wei Ying's skull. It's slightly unnerving, but Wei Ying also can't look away. "There is…someone. But they are not interested."
"What? In you?" Wei Ying is, frankly, appalled. "You're the cultivation world's most premiere bachelor, now that the peacock is off the list. Surely that person is either blind or stupid. Or both."
"They are," Lan Zhan says quietly, "neither. Simply not interested."
Wei Ying just can't believe that. Lan Zhan is gorgeous, for one. The best person Wei Ying has ever known, for another. Sure, they didn't see eye to eye back after the conflict ended, but Wei Ying can't really blame Lan Zhan. He didn't know the whole story, and he never will. With the information available to him, of course he'd look at Wei Ying differently and give up. Wei Ying swallows. Lan Zhan gave up on him a long time ago. "Well, then, my theory is correct."
They're quiet for a while, and then Lan Zhan asks in a soft voice, "What about you?"
"Hmm? What about me?" Wei Ying asks.
"Is there anyone…special…for you?"
"Oh." Wei Ying scratches the back of his head and screws up his face. "Nah. No time, really. And I'm constantly away from home, anyway, you know? There's no stability. I'm a free agent, as you can see."
Lan Zhan hums, then surprises Wei Ying by saying, "I do hope that you are…not lonely, Wei Ying."
Wei Ying blinks and looks at him. "I'm fine," he says automatically, because he is. Sure, there's a degree of loneliness, but Wei Ying has gotten used to it. He is absolutely fine. "What about you?" he asks, mostly to annoy Lan Zhan. "Aren't you lonely?"
"Sometimes," Lan Zhan says easily, and Wei Ying startles at the honesty there. Lan Zhan really has changed. "I miss certain friendships," Lan Zhan says in a quiet voice.
Wei Ying goes hot and cold all over, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. What friendships did Lan Zhan have that he misses? If Wei Ying is honest with himself, the only friend Lan Zhan had ever had had been him. But surely he can't mean… "Really?" he asks in an equally quiet voice.
"Really, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, and the timbre of his voice is low, resonant. Weirdly soothing and exciting all at once. "It is…nice…to spend time with you," he adds, and Wei Ying almost whines with how good it feels to hear that. To hear Lan Zhan, specifically, say that.
"Well," he says, feeling flustered. "I'm glad we ran into each other, then." He doesn't look at Lan Zhan as he says it. "It's…it's nice to spend time with you too," he adds.
"Wei Ying—"
A note on the guqin, then another, and another. A whole melody sounds out and Lan Zhan sits up straight, frowning. "He says that he's bored, so if we had any questions, he might decide to answer them."
"Finally," Wei Ying says, sitting up. "Ask him why he's so angry."
"I think," Lan Zhan says carefully, "that we should start a bit slower." He plucks out a few notes, then waits for a response. It comes in fairly short order. "I asked him how he's feeling now and he told me he's bored."
"Well, if he allowed us to eliminate him, he wouldn't be bored anymore," Wei Ying says under his breath, which earns him a rare but breath-stopping laugh from Lan Zhan. Wei Ying looks up at him and their gazes meet. "Too much too soon?" Wei Ying asks, cracking a smile, and Lan Zhan gives him a small smile in return.
He plucks out more notes on the strings, and the guqin answers. Lan Zhan blinks, looking surprised. "He told me that he threw you up against the wall because you have the look of a boy who would do what his friends did to him."
Wei Ying gasps, hand flying to his chest. "What! That's awful! Why would I do whatever it is that those boys did?"
Lan Zhan frowns as he plays more notes. Slowly, a response comes. "He says that it's possible they hadn't meant to do what they did, but it happened, anyway, and now he's stuck here."
"Jeez, you weren't kidding that this kid was going to start talking soon. Okay, okay, ask him: what exactly happened?"
Lan Zhan nods, asks. The answer comes slowly, haltingly. Lan Zhan waits to tell Wei Ying until the final note has sounded. He looks…deeply sad. Wei Ying waits. "He says that the boys lured him into the abandoned manor to explore it and said they would be with him the whole time. However, they left and barricaded him in, as a joke. He attempted to break through the barricade, but in his attempts, he hurt himself. He…clawed at the walls and tried to break out of the boarded up windows, but couldn't. He began throwing himself up against the wall. In a panic, he threw himself against the barricade so hard, he smashed his head. He woke up and realized that he could pass through walls. He's been here ever since."
"Fuck me, that's awful." He wraps his arms around himself. "For the record, I would never do that. They never came back for him?"
"Apparently not."
"When was this?"
Lan Zhan plucks out some notes, and the boy answers. "A long time ago. He thinks ninety years, at least."
"This poor kid, no wonder he only makes teenagers disappear." Wei Ying sighs. "Listen, ask him—isn't he tired of this?"
Lan Zhan nods, plays. Listens for an answer, but no answer comes.
"Fuck. Well, that's our answer, I suppose." They lapse into silence. "Do you think," Wei Ying asks after a while, "that he would let us play Rest anyway? Or will he kick up a fuss again?"
"I would be concerned about his reaction," Lan Zhan says slowly. "I believe we can wait for a little longer. He might return."
Wei Ying sighs and leans his head against the wall, looking out into the darkness. "Yeah. Yeah, all right. Hey," he adds, remembering and turning towards Lan Zhan. "Weren't you going to say something before he came back?"
Lan Zhan looks at him, then down at his guqin. "No, I…" He clears his throat. "I simply wondered if, perhaps, you would be interested in…having breakfast with me. Once we are done here."
"Oh." Wei Ying blinks, then a smile spreads across his face. "You'd want that?"
"Yes," Lan Zhan responds immediately, still watching Wei Ying. "Very much."
"Okay." Wei Ying is openly grinning now. Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan wants to have a meal with him. Maybe…maybe Lan Zhan doesn't despise him the way Wei Ying has been assuming all these years. "Okay, let's do it. Provided we do actually manage to eliminate this poor kid."
"Mn." Lan Zhan nods, then plucks out a few notes on the string. "I'm asking him if he's still here with us."
A note, then another.
"Yes, he is, but doesn't feel like talking."
"Great," Wei Ying sighs. "More waiting."
"Mn." And more silence. They sit there, each lost in his own thoughts, until Lan Zhan takes a breath and Wei Ying's gaze snaps to him. Lan Zhan isn't looking at him, but he looks like he's steeling himself to say something. Sure enough, after a moment, he says, "Wei Ying…"
"Yeah?" Wei Ying asks quietly.
Lan Zhan lifts his gaze to Wei Ying's and quietly asks, "What made you leave?"
Wei Ying, not expecting this particular question, feels sweat break out on the back of his neck, for all the night is cool. "Lan Zhan…" He has no idea what to say. Lan Zhan has never asked this before. He's asked him why he no longer carries a sword, asked him why resentful energy, asked him to stop. But he never asked him why he left. "You know why."
A pause, before Lan Zhan says quietly, "Because you didn't have any support anymore. You were…you were all alone."
"I wasn't," Wei Ying responds in a soft voice. "I had the Wens. Wen Qing…Wen Ning. But we were all of us outcasts. It wasn't going to work until the Wens were pardoned."
"And they have been." Lan Zhan sounds careful. "Yet, you're still…"
"I'm here, aren't I?" Wei Ying says as heartily as he can manage. "Still doing my thing, going where I'm needed… Like you, really."
"Except that you're alone," Lan Zhan tells him, sounding almost mournful.
Wei Ying takes a deep breath, then feels the need to point out, "So are you. Why don't you have anyone with you?"
"I…prefer to night hunt alone," Lan Zhan says. "It gives me time to think."
Wei Ying shrugs. "And I prefer not to be questioned. So I'm alone, as well."
Lan Zhan looks almost pained at that, though it's hard to say how Wei Ying knows. He just does. "I understand," he says.
Wei Ying wonders if he really does, but lets it go. "I left," he says, "because I had to, to keep the peace. And, to be honest, I'm not sure I'd like being part of the greater cultivation world, anyway. I'm not a joiner. Not anymore."
"You do not have to be," Lan Zhan says quietly. "Wei Ying… You've only ever had to be yourself."
"For what?" Wei Ying whispers, not trusting his voice.
"For me," Lan Zhan says in a soft voice. "You've only ever had to be yourself for me."
Wei Ying feels his heart pick up, throat drying up. Lan Zhan is watching him with so much intent, as though he's willing Wei Ying to understand something. Something that Wei Ying is, it turns out, too scared to understand. "Lan Zhan…"
"I'm sorry," Lan Zhan says, more loudly. "I'm sorry, Wei Ying."
"Sorry for what?" Wei Ying's voice is still not working so well, so he whispers it.
"I'm sorry for abandoning you when you needed a friend the most."
"You didn't, I left—"
"I've tried to make it up to you by…joining you sometimes in places I thought you might be," Lan Zhan says as though in confession. Before Wei Ying can even react to that, he adds, "But I could have been a better friend. Before. Should have been a better friend. I could have been…more understanding."
Wei Ying's mind is in a muddle. "Of what?" he asks, confused.
"It took me too long to understand, really."
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says, voice growing stronger. "Understanding of what?"
"That, if you abandoned the sword, you had no other choice."
Wei Ying, struck absolutely dumb, stills. Lan Zhan can't possibly know—nobody who knows would ever let the secret out, Wei Ying knows this. Not Wen Qing, not Wen Ning. And still, somehow, Lan Zhan has figured out…something. Probably not the whole reason, probably not even the truth, but something. "I didn't," Wei Ying blurts out before he can think better of it.
"I know."
They're watching each other from two feet away, and even in the relative darkness, Wei Ying can pick out every twitch on Lan Zhan's face, every movement. "I can't tell you what happened," Wei Ying tells him slowly. "But the sword is no longer something that is possible for me."
"I realize that," Lan Zhan says softly. "That you've been able to find another way to cultivate is…quite remarkable."
"Lan Zhan—"
"You are remarkable," Lan Zhan says, and something in Wei Ying breaks. He lets out a croak, feeling his eyes prickle in a truly embarrassing way, and turns away, hiding his face in shadow.
"Don't," he says, his voice coming out hoarse, giving him away.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement, and it's Lan Zhan, setting his guqin aside and moving closer. Wei Ying doesn't tell him to stop, and he doesn't encourage him, either. He waits, frozen, as Lan Zhan slides up to him and puts a finger under Wei Ying's chin. He exerts the barest of pressures and Wei Ying goes where Lan Zhan wants him, facing him. "Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says, and nobody else says his name in quite the same way as Lan Zhan. No one ever has. Wei Ying gets lost in his gaze. "I have missed you."
They're so close, a breath away. Wei Ying can't look away from Lan Zhan's perfect, handsome face. "I missed you too," he breathes. And, belatedly, "You don't have to be sorry. I gave you no choice. I didn't give anyone a choice."
"Nobody gave you a choice, either. Or a chance." Lan Zhan frowns minutely. He's still got hold of Wei Ying's chin and Wei Ying is still frozen. "And for that I'm sorry too."
"Lan Zhan—"
A note sounds, high and loud in the quiet room. They spring apart as though caught out and then Lan Zhan turns around and grabs his guqin. Another note, and another.
"What, uh…what is he saying?" Wei Ying asks, wiping his sweaty palms surreptitiously on his jeans.
"He's saying that if we want to live, we should get out now."
"Charming," Wei Ying breathes. "All right, I'm done waiting for this kid."
"Careful, Wei Ying. He's very powerful."
Wei Ying stands up and reaches for Chenqing. "I'm no slouch, either."
He begins to play Rest, and Lan Zhan joins in immediately. As though on cue, black smoke begins to surround them, enveloping them in complete darkness. Wei Ying can no longer see Lan Zhan, can barely even hear him over the sound of the wind. Wei Ying is knocked backwards, his hair flying out of its ponytail, his face hurting from the wind, but he continues to play through the onslaught. He can just about make out Lan Zhan's playing in harmony. When the knock comes, Wei Ying is braced for it and even though he's still swept off his feet, he's able to fight it, landing with a thump on the ground but not getting slammed against the wall. The wind picks up as though in anger, and Wei Ying can now hear his name being called out, but he can't stop playing, because if he plays, the ghost wins. He feels bad for the kid, but he also feels bad for all the kids who've gone missing, and all of their families. It's time this ended.
And then, between one note and the next, the wind dies down; the smoke dissipates; and a sound lingers in the air like a sigh. They're left abruptly alone, Wei Ying on the ground, Lan Zhan still standing, guqin at his fingers.
"Shit. Is that…is that it? Is he gone?"
Lan Zhan plucks out two notes. Silence. "I believe he is, yes."
Wei Ying lets out a breath and slumps down. "Fuck me, that was rough. Teenagers, huh?"
Lan Zhan's lips twitch. "Mn." He stows away his guqin. "Are you all right?" He strides up to where Wei Ying is still on the ground and extends a hand.
Wei Ying takes it somewhat reluctantly, nervous, all of sudden, about touching Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan pulls and Wei Ying gathers his (granted, somewhat depleted) strength and stands up, only swaying slightly. Lan Zhan catches him around the waist and suddenly, they're nose to nose. Wei Ying blinks and watches, mesmerized, as Lan Zhan's gaze drops down to his lips. Wei Ying's whole body goes up in shivers at that look, because surely…surely that can't be…that is, Lan Zhan can't be thinking…what it sort of looks like he might be thinking…
"Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying whispers when he can't handle the intensity anymore, and Lan Zhan's gaze snaps up to Wei Ying's eyes, and he looks—desperate, and a little wild, or as wild as Lan Zhan gets. Oh fuck, is that—
"Wei Ying—"
Wei Ying realizes he's leaning in, and so is Lan Zhan, and in a moment, their lips will meet, and he feels as though his spine is melting, the butterflies in his stomach threatening to take over entirely. Any moment now, Lan Zhan will be kissing him, and the anticipation makes black appear at the edges of his vision. Fuck, is he about to pass out? He's feeling woozy, but he's only half-aware of that because—
Black smoke begins to billow around them, kicking up dust off the floor and debris off the walls, and Wei Ying shouts as he's picked bodily up and slammed against the wall once more.
"Wei Ying!"
Everything fucking hurts, his skull reverberating from the impact, and he can't see anything, and this fucking kid—
He slides down the wall and falls down in a heap, landing on his arm awkwardly.
"Wei Ying, are you all right? Wei Ying, say something!"
Wei Ying opens his mouth in an attempt to tell Lan Zhan that he's okay, but he can't get enough air into his lungs. And if he can't get enough air into his lungs to speak, he can't get enough air into his lungs to play. Anyway, that seems to have been useless, because the ferocity with which resentful energy is pounding them now is worse than ever. Wei Ying crawls on the floor to where he thinks Lan Zhan is, and is able to pick out his white clothing a few feet away. "Lan—Lan Zhan—" He coughs, feeling weak and pathetic, and sees as Lan Zhan produces Bichen and begins to take on the resentful energy. Wei Ying watches as it swirls around the sword, obscuring it from view, and he knows it's temporary, and it won't solve the problem.
He has to…he has to figure something out, or they're never getting out of here, and he's not fucking dying before kissing Lan Zhan, he refuses to. All the excitement of a minute ago has turned into anxiety and frustration, and Wei Ying is gonna get rid of this thing once and for all if it—no, this thing will not kill him. He hasn't gone through a deadly sect conflict and losing his golden core only to be killed by a petulant teenager, no matter how sad his story is.
"Wei Ying?"
"I'm all right, just keep him busy, okay?"
Still on the floor, Wei Ying suddenly remembers that he's got talisman paper stashed away. Fuck, of course, how did he forget that? He rummages around in his back pockets. Phones are great and all, but nothing beats a good talisman. He makes his finger bleed with his teeth, then begins to write out characters. Anything, anything to stop this mess.
Lan Zhan begins to move away into a corner, the resentful energy still swirling around his sword. What his plan is, Wei Ying couldn't begin to guess, but he is keeping the kid busy, and for that, Wei Ying is grateful. He finishes sketching out a talisman and begins to look for a possible source of the energy, where it might be coming from. Trouble is, it could be anywhere, and the billowing smoke makes it nearly impossible to see anything. Well, nothing for it—Wei Ying will just send it to any corner hoping for the best. He gathers his own energy around him and sends the talisman flying, but it gets picked up by the billowing wind and is lost the next moment. Fuck. He pounds the floor in frustration, but weirdly, that doesn't help, either.
Okay, okay. He just has to exert more energy, that's all. He grabs another piece of paper, writes out more characters, different ones this time. There—that should prevent it from getting blown away.
"Lan Zhan, are you all right?" he shouts over the wind.
"I'm fine!" Lan Zhan responds from the corner. "What's your plan?"
"I'm working on it!" Wei Ying finishes the final character, gathers all of his strength, and sends the talisman flying. This time, it cuts through the swirling smoke and, in a flash of red, sticks to the wall opposite. At first, nothing happens, and Wei Ying curses, already reaching for another paper, but then the smoke slows down and then stops altogether, hanging in the air, choking them but no longer swirling all around. Wei Ying coughs and waits, but nothing else happens. He's frozen the energy, but not gotten rid of it.
"Wei Ying?"
"Give me a second, Lan Zhan, just let me—" He reaches into his pocket and comes out with his last piece of talisman paper. His hands shake as he writes out the characters, as well as he possibly can, hoping that the shaking won't make the writing wrong. Wei Ying manages to get up on trembling legs and lights the room up with his phone. In one corner, he sees Lan Zhan, face stony as he still holds his sword out. He waves his phone around from place to place, attempting to see—there. In the furthest corner, almost out of view, is a skull. They hadn't noticed it before, but that has to be…the source. Somehow. Wei Ying really fucking hopes it is.
He walks towards it, slowly and laboriously, and when he's close enough, he sends the talisman paper flying. It lands on the skull and Wei Ying shouts, "Lan Zhan, be care—"
The rest of the sentence gets drowned out in an explosion, which sends Wei Ying flying. The next thing he knows is pain, his name being shouted, and then he knows nothing at all.
*
Wei Ying floats. Somewhere, someone is talking, saying things he doesn't understand, and for a moment, everything sways and lurches, nausea beginning to make itself known. Wei Ying jolts and the next moment, he's jerking to the side and vomiting.
"Wei Ying?"
That's Lan Zhan. That's whose voice he's been hearing, uncomprehending. Why is he swaying? Then Wei Ying becomes aware of being touched, held, and…carried?
He swallows bile and finally manages to unstick his eyes and sees pink and blue: the sky. It's dawn, and they're outside. Now that he realizes this, he can smell the fresh air, so different from the dark and dank smell of the manor. He'd gotten used to it–you get used to smells, don't you?—but now that he can breathe in fresh air, it feels like the biggest relief.
"Lan Zhan…" His voice is raspy, disused.
"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan stops but doesn't put him down. Wei Ying turns his head and sees the cut of Lan Zhan's jaw, his mouth as he says, "How do you feel?"
"Did we end it?" Wei Ying asks, because he has to know. "How did we get out?"
"You did it. You got rid of the source of the energy. He's gone."
Wei Ying smiles, head falling back. "Thank fuck. You can put me down," he says belatedly. "I can walk on my own."
"No," Lan Zhan says simply, then begins to walk again. "You're very weak."
Wei Ying coughs. His mouth tastes rank, and he desperately needs a shower or something, but he didn't bother booking a hotel for this, thinking he'd be in and out and then on his way back home. "Uh, where are we going?" he manages.
"My hotel," Lan Zhan says. "Car first." Soon enough, Lan Zhan stops. Wei Ying looks around: they're on the side of the road, no one else to be seen. Lan Zhan's car—silver, sleek—is the only object around that isn't a tree or grass. "Do you think you can stand for a moment while I open the door?" Lan Zhan asks, and his voice is unbearably soft.
"Yeah," Wei Ying says immediately. He could probably walk and run if necessary, but he's glad it isn't necessary. Lan Zhan sets him down slowly, carefully. Wei Ying sways on his feet and, embarrassingly, falls a little against him. "Fuck, sorry."
"No need to be sorry," Lan Zhan murmurs. Still holding onto Wei Ying, he opens the passenger door. "Get in. Please."
Wei Ying manages to fold himself up and maneuver his way into the car. Everything is trembling, and he thinks he might throw up again. He really hopes he doesn't—Lan Zhan's car is far too nice for that. Lan Zhan makes sure he's buckled in, then closes the door. Wei Ying shuts his eyes. He hears the driver side door open, then Lan Zhan get in. The engine starts, nice and quiet. Wei Ying swallows and doesn't open his eyes as Lan Zhan slowly pulls out of the spot and gets on the road.
Wei Ying listens to the quiet rumble of the engine and passes out again.
*
Wei Ying wakes up on a bed. The light behind his eyes is diffused, dim. He swallows, wondering if he's going to vomit again, then decides it's safe, and opens his eyes.
Hotel—must be Lan Zhan's room. Nicer than anything Wei Ying might have gotten. His hotel stays usually require that he bring his own sheets. This is definitely not that sort of a hotel. He turns his head to look for Lan Zhan and sees that the curtains are closed against the rising sun. He ventures to sit up, but immediately regrets it and falls back down, groaning.
"Wei Ying?" Lan Zhan comes into view. He's got a glass of water in hand. "You're awake."
Wei Ying blinks slowly, then gives him a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm all right. Sorry. I'll get out of your hair in a minute, just have to—"
"Don't be silly," Lan Zhan says in a quiet but firm voice. "You're staying here. Do you think you can handle a little bit of water?"
Wei Ying wrinkles his nose. He isn't so sure, but there's only one way to find out. "You should probably get me something just in case I puke again…"
"Of course." Lan Zhan goes and grabs a trash can, puts it down next to the bed. Wei Ying manages to sit up just enough that he can drink and not choke on it. Lan Zhan is the one to bring the glass to his lips. "Open up," he says softly.
Wei Ying obeys, and Lan Zhan feeds him water. It feels good, cooling his throat. He drinks deeply for a while, until Lan Zhan says, "That's enough for now," and pulls the glass away. "How do you feel?"
Wei Ying checks in with himself. The nausea is still vaguely there, but manageable. "I don't think I'm gonna hurl again," he says.
"Good. I'll leave the trash can where it is, just in case."
Wei Ying sighs and falls back onto the pillow. "Thanks, Lan Zhan. Sorry. Don't know what happened, really…"
"You've been injured, and you've depleted a lot of spiritual energy." He sets the glass down onto the bedside table and sits down next to Wei Ying on the bed. His eyebrows are drawn together. "I tried to feed you more of it, but it's as though—"
"It wouldn't take," Wei Ying sighs, then gives a half-hearted laugh.
"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan sounds careful. Wei Ying feels his gaze on him, but can't meet his eye. "What happened to your golden core?"
And there it is. Wei Ying swallows, wondering if he's going to throw up after all, then sighs when he doesn't, and closes his eyes. "It's a long story, Lan Zhan."
"I have time," Lan Zhan says calmly.
Wei Ying snorts. He's so tired. He's so very, very tired. "Let's just say that Core-Melting Hand is a very appropriate name for Wen Zhuliu." There. That's plausible enough.
"Wei Ying—"
"Now you know why I had to turn to other ways of cultivation," Wei Ying says, overriding whatever Lan Zhan was going to say.
Lan Zhan is silent, and finally, Wei Ying turns to look at him. His lips are pinched, his eyes preternaturally serious. More serious than usual, even, which is saying a lot. There's a small wrinkle between his eyebrows that Wei Ying wants to smooth out with his thumb. He remembers, suddenly, the almost-kiss and flushes.
He squirms in the silence. "Look, very few people know about this, so—"
"Of course." Lan Zhan's voice sounds rough. "I will not tell."
Wei Ying breathes out. "Thank you."
More silence. Then, "How do you feel now?" Lan Zhan asks. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
Wei Ying assesses his body. Everything hurts—check. Slight nausea—check. Headache—check. "Not too bad," he lies. "I could probably—"
"No." Lan Zhan stills him with a hand to his hip over the covers. Wei Ying flushes despite everything. "You will stay here until you're better." Then Lan Zhan squeezes his hip and lets go. "Please," he adds quietly.
Wei Ying, who could possibly make it to the door but no further, says, "All right. Thank you."
"No need for thanks," Lan Zhan says in a painfully gentle voice. Wei Ying doesn't think he's ever heard Lan Zhan sound like this. "Please, Wei Ying. Just rest."
"Okay." Wei Ying sighs and closes his eyes. "Thanks, Lan Zhan," he mumbles, and then between one moment and the next, he falls asleep.
*
Wei Ying wakes up again to an empty room. His throat is sore and his mouth tastes awful, but the headache is gone, as is, mercifully, the nausea. Every bone still appears to hurt, but that'll happen when you're slammed against the wall a few times. Still, when he tries to lift himself up on his elbows, he manages it, which is when he realizes that, under the covers, he's only in his underwear. Oh. Well. All right. That—that makes sense.
He looks around himself. There's a low lamp on, but the curtains are still closed against daylight. A quick look at the clock tells him he's 4 o'clock—he's slept a good portion of the day away. That's probably for the best. He wonders where Lan Zhan is, then becomes aware of an urgent need to pee.
Fuck. All right. Here goes nothing.
Slowly, he uncovers himself, then manages to sit up and plant his feet on the ground. So far, so good. Standing up is a bit more of a challenge, but he manages that, as well, swaying only a little. He's getting too old for this. Thirty shouldn't be too old for anything, and yet here he is, feeling like an old man just from one night hunt. Pathetic, really.
He slowly makes his way to the bathroom. Turns on the light, lifts up the seat. Pees for a million years. Flushes, washes his hands. He finds a tube of toothpaste and brushes his teeth, then rinses with Lan Zhan's mouthwash just to get rid of the taste in his mouth. He listens in case Lan Zhan is back, then ventures into the shower, because he's feeling absolutely rank. The shower makes him woozy, but also makes him feel better, more human. He dries himself and just as slowly, he shuffles back to the bed. He is about to get in it when the room door opens and Lan Zhan walks in with a bag in his hands. Wei Ying freezes, as does Lan Zhan. Wei Ying is extremely aware of how naked he is underneath his towel.
"Uh, hi. Just. Bathroom."
Lan Zhan nods and finally proceeds into the room. "You showered. Does that mean you're better?"
Wei Ying nods. "Yeah, sorry. Borrowed some of your toiletries. I just felt…gross. I'm better now."
"Of course, not a problem." Lan Zhan studies him, as though not fully believing him. "I got us food," he says after a moment and sets the bag down onto a bench. "Do you think you could have some noodles?" He takes out a tub of noodle soup, and who is Wei Ying to say no?
"Hell yeah, I'm starving. Uh, let me just…" He flushes as he looks around for his clothes. There they are, hung neatly over the chair. He goes and pulls on his t-shirt, then the jeans underneath the towel. Oh well, he'll freeball it this time. He really does feel a lot better—sleeping helped. Now that he's up, he thinks he can even continue to stay upright, which is good, because there's only one bed, and Wei Ying isn't the one paying for it.
When he turns around, Lan Zhan is busy taking out chopsticks and spoons and napkins and setting them on the table. "Please," he says when he finally looks at Wei Ying. "Take the chair."
"Oh. Thanks." Wei Ying, feeling incredibly awkward, sits. Lan Zhan pushes his tub of soup towards him, as well as cutlery, then goes to sit on the bed with his container of—Wei Ying checks—dry noodles with some vegetables. Wei Ying tries not to feel overly self-conscious as he gobbles up his soup, the broth absolutely delicious and life-giving. "Whatever you paid for this," he says through his full mouth, "it's worth twice that."
Lan Zhan's voice sounds warm when he says, "I'm glad."
Once he's finally eaten his fill, Wei Ying pushes the soup away with some regret. If he had a second stomach, he would definitely be finishing the whole thing. "Okay," he says, turning in the chair to face Lan Zhan, who's perched on the edge of the bed, sitting up straight as he eats. "I can be out of your hair now."
Lan Zhan pauses with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. Slowly, he lowers them. "Wei Ying. You don't have to leave."
"Sure I do," Wei Ying says heartily, ignoring the feeling of wrongness it produces in him. He doesn't want to leave this room. He doesn't want to leave Lan Zhan. He doesn't…they'd almost kissed. If not for that stupid fucking kid and his stupid fucking ghost, they would have kissed. Now, though… "I've taken up enough of your day," he says. "I bet you would have already checked out if it hadn't been for me."
"I'm in no rush," Lan Zhan says, setting his container of noodles aside. "I would feel more comfortable if you waited some more, just in case…just in case you're still not one hundred percent."
Wei Ying swallows. Is he one hundred percent? He absolutely is not. But it feels like too much, like he's taking advantage of Lan Zhan's generosity. "Lan Zhan…"
"Please, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says quietly. "Stay. Spend the night." It's fairly dim in the room—the curtains are still drawn mostly closed—but Wei Ying thinks he sees a faint blush on Lan Zhan's cheeks and at the tip of his nose. He stomach swoops with—something. Anticipation? Excitement? Surely Lan Zhan didn't mean…but…
"Where would I sleep?" he asks quietly.
"Well," Lan Zhan says, standing up and walking over to Wei Ying. Wei Ying swallows and stands up as well and they're face to face, standing so close, Wei Ying can smell Lan Zhan. "There is just the one bed."
An involuntary laugh escapes Wei Ying, and he tries to play it off. "Well, as long as nobody takes advantage—"
"Stay with me," Lan Zhan interrupts, sounding urgent. "Please."
The laugh dies on Wei Ying's lips, mouth going slack. "Lan Zhan…when you say with you…"
Lan Zhan leans in and kisses him. Wei Ying gasps from the shock of it, even though perhaps he should have expected it, but he hadn't. He really, really hadn't, and now his eyes slide closed as Lan Zhan's lips press against his own, open slightly, sharing breath. Wei Ying's heart beats once, twice, in quick succession, and then he's kissing Lan Zhan back for all he's worth. Lan Zhan moans—fuck—and grabs Wei Ying round the middle, pressing him close. Oh fuck, he's strong and Wei Ying really, really likes strong men who can fling him around a bit. He gasps and breaks off the kiss, staring at Lan Zhan's face, trying to understand what he's thinking. Lan Zhan looks unfocused, sort of lost, and his lips are shiny from the kiss and he's watching Wei Ying's lips and—
They stagger to the bed as they kiss, Lan Zhan already going for the hem of Wei Ying's t-shirt. Wei Ying raises his arms and they break off the kiss long enough for Lan Zhan to fling the t-shirt off of his body and somewhere Wei Ying doesn't care about. They should probably talk about it but Wei Ying has wanted Lan Zhan for years, and he's not so stupid as to not twig to who Lan Zhan had been talking about earlier. Lan Zhan wants him. Miraculously, incredibly, Lan Zhan wants him, and Wei Ying isn't about to waste his chance on getting Lan Zhan in bed.
Lan Zhan loses his own shirt once they've gotten to the bed, and then between them, they struggle to undo each other's flies, hands trembling. Wei Ying's stomach is all nerves and excitement, he feels like it's billowing inside him the way resentful energy billowed around them back at the manor. Lan Zhan keeps kissing him and impeding their progress, but finally, finally, they succeed and shove at each other's pants. Lan Zhan, down to his underwear, sees that Wei Ying is now fully naked and grabs Wei Ying and tosses him onto the bed. Oh fuck, Wei Ying knew he could do it. He's so turned on by now, he's nearly cross-eyed. Hard and wanting, and Lan Zhan—Lan Zhan is absolutely gorgeous. Wei Ying expected him to be, but it's one thing to imagine, and the other to see with your own two eyes the figure he cuts. Tall, muscular, wide-shouldered and narrow-waisted, lean and beautiful. Then Lan Zhan frowns as he looks down at Wei Ying and Wei Ying wonders for a moment if Lan Zhan is changing his mind, if seeing Wei Ying like this is a disappointment, if—
"Lan Zhan?"
Lan Zhan's gaze snaps to Wei Ying's. "Your bruises, I…I hadn't…I'm sorry…"
It clicks and Wei Ying feels his face splitting into a grin. "Fuck my bruises, I'm fine. You better not stop."
That works and Lan Zhan's gaze turns intense, almost predatory. He gets on the bed and straddles Wei Ying, pinning him to the bed.
They should probably talk, he thinks again, but there's no chance of that happening, not now. Lan Zhan looks nearly feral in a way Wei Ying had no idea he could look, and it's flattering—more than flattering, it's incendiary. Wei Ying is burning up from Lan Zhan's gaze alone, and then Lan Zhan leans down and kisses him, and then they're locked in an embrace that's all skin. Wei Ying moans and wraps his legs around Lan Zhan's narrow hips, pressing him close. Oh fuck, Lan Zhan is so hard against him, matching Wei Ying's desire, and they can't, they can't stop kissing.
Lan Zhan starts to grind against him but he’s still not fully naked the way Wei Ying needs him to be. Wei Ying breaks off the kiss and pulls Lan Zhan back, panting, "Lan Zhan, take—take these off, please, I want—"
Lan Zhan is already reaching down and tugging his underwear down one-handed, propping himself up on the other. Once he’s done, Lan Zhan presses down and Wei Ying moans, grabs him around the waist, and grinds up against him.
"Oh, fuck, Lan Zhan—"
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan murmurs, then finds Wei Ying's lips again. They kiss, hot and deep and mind-blowingly good, and then Lan Zhan pulls back and kisses Wei Ying's cheek, his nose, his chin, his eyes when Wei Ying closes them. He peppers him with kisses, trailing a whole line of them up his jaw and behind his ear, down his neck. It's overwhelming and all Wei Ying can do is try to catch his breath. The degree to which Lan Zhan appears to want him is overwhelming. It sets Wei Ying's skin on fire, robs him of breath.
"Lan Zhan," he whispers, and he doesn't really have anything he can say, he just wants to hear Lan Zhan's name, know exactly who it is that's kissing their way down his chest—not that he could mistake Lan Zhan for anyone else. Nobody comes even close to Lan Zhan in any way, in any sense.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says softly in between kisses as he moves down Wei Ying's body. "Wei Ying, please let me…" He trails off, not elaborating on what it is he wants to do, but Wei Ying would pretty much let Lan Zhan do anything.
"Whatever you want," he whispers, cupping the back of Lan Zhan's head. "Anything, anything."
Lan Zhan makes an aborted sort of noise, then shuffles further down and catches one of Wei Ying's nipples in his mouth. Oh fuck, that's—it's electric. Wei Ying nearly bucks him off with how high he arches at the feeling of it. Lan Zhan gasps and bites down, licking to soothe, and Wei Ying has always been sensitive there, but it's as though he's grown extra nerves now. Everywhere Lan Zhan touches him goes through him like lightning, burning him up from the inside. Lan Zhan moves over to the other nipple and does the same thing there and Wei Ying clutches at his head and moans, unable to stop. His dick is leaking between them, and he can't even imagine what will happen once Lan Zhan reaches it. He hopes he reaches it.
Lan Zhan moves further down, kissing his way down Wei Ying's body—his stomach, his hips. His chin bumps Wei Ying's dick and Wei Ying watches, gaze unfocused, as Lan Zhan leans down and licks over the head of it, right in the slit. Oh fuck, fuck—
"Fuck—"
Lan Zhan takes him in his mouth and goes down halfway on the first go, enveloping Wei Ying in a tight, wet heat. Wei Ying tosses back his head and the sounds coming out of his own mouth are pretty embarrassing. To be fair, he hasn't gotten laid in quite a while. And also, this is Lan Zhan going down on him, Lan Zhan sucking down his dick as though it were the best thing he's ever had in his mouth. Wei Ying isn't the only one moaning. With one hand, he clutches at the back of Lan Zhan's head, the other is busy nearly tearing the sheet beneath him. He realizes that he's trembling and can barely breathe.
Lan Zhan sucks him off for a while, head bobbing up and down, a line of concentration between his eyebrows. He's beautiful like this, eyelashes fluttering, cheeks hollowing out. Wei Ying experiences a feeling of unreality. He can't believe that less than twenty-four hours ago, he hadn't even run into Lan Zhan yet, and now they're here, in this bed, naked and wanting and—most importantly—getting.
Lan Zhan pulls off and Wei Ying looks down at where they're connected by a line of spit and precome. Lan Zhan's lips are indecently shiny and red, there's no mistaking what he's been doing. Their eyes meet and Lan Zhan licks his lips. "Wei Ying," he rasps, and that's all, just Wei Ying's name, but it writhes inside him.
"Yeah, Lan Zhan. Come here, let me—let me do something, let me make you feel good."
Lan Zhan blinks slowly, then just as slowly moves up Wei Ying's body, hips pressing down against Wei Ying's. He nudges Wei Ying's jaw aside and kisses right underneath it, hot and wet, and then he begins to suck the same spot, hard enough to leave a bruise. Wei Ying cries out—it hurts, but also makes his dick jump, turns him on so hard, he's liable to pass out. Lan Zhan doesn't stop. He keeps going, sucking hard and long, until finally he lets go and Wei Ying feels the prickle of tears in his eyes.
"Lan Zhan, fuck—"
Lan Zhan latches onto another spot lower down and does the same thing, biting down and sucking. Wei Ying writhes beneath him, whining, clutching Lan Zhan around his muscular back. Lan Zhan isn't even moving against him, but Wei Ying thinks he could come just from this, just from having Lan Zhan's undivided attention, his mouth on Wei Ying, claiming him—because it's going to bruise, that much Wei Ying knows.
"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…what do you want, how can I make you feel good?" Wei Ying whispers, throat constricted.
"You are making me feel good," Lan Zhan tells him in between kisses to his neck. "You have…no idea how long I have wanted this," he adds, and oh, not talking was easier than talking, because Wei Ying is about to pass the fuck out. His dick jumps.
"How long?" he asks softly, not wanting to spook the feeling between them.
Lan Zhan raises himself up enough that they can look each other in the eye. His gaze is searching, serious. His eyes are so, so dark. "Ever since we were young boys," he says, and he says it so simply, as though he hasn't just blown Wei Ying's mind to smithereens. "A long time, Wei Ying."
"Oh fuck, Lan Zhan—that long? But you hated me for a while, didn't you?"
"I never hated you," Lan Zhan says, and he sounds sad, wistful. "Wei Ying, I never hated you. I found you…overwhelming. I wasn't ready for you, I hadn't been prepared."
Wei Ying swallows, and a feeling of grief so powerful it threatens to take him under washes over him. "Lan Zhan," he whispers and runs his hands down the sides of his neck, over the bumps of his collarbone and down to his defined chest. "You never said."
"You didn't seem interested," Lan Zhan says. "We were friends."
"I didn't—Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying lightly slaps him on the shoulder. "I flirted with you all the time."
Lan Zhan shrugs. "You flirted with anything that stayed still long enough. To me, it didn't mean anything."
And okay, he's got him there. Wei Ying can't exactly argue with that. He groans and shuts his eyes, allowing his hands to linger over Lan Zhan's smooth, warm skin. "I was an idiot."
"You were young," Lan Zhan says, sounding warm.
A kiss lands on Wei Ying's lips and Wei Ying opens his mouth for it immediately, slides his tongue against Lan Zhan's. He clutches Lan Zhan to him by the shoulders and has one coherent thought: he never wants to let him go. It's a dangerous thought, uneasy. He tries to push it away.
They kiss, Lan Zhan moving his hips slowly against Wei Ying's, their dicks sliding slick against each other. Wei Ying's need pounds through him but it's somewhat soothed by Lan Zhan's body lying heavily over his own, pinning him in place. And when it becomes too much, when the need inside him becomes strong enough that it overtakes anything else, Wei Ying pulls back from the kiss, puts his mouth to Lan Zhan's ear, and asks, "Lan Zhan, will you fuck me?"
He feels Lan Zhan's breath stutter out of him, a shudder above Wei Ying. "Wei Ying—"
"You told me how long you've wanted this, well, I've wanted you to fuck me for probably just as long. If we're being honest." He watches as Lan Zhan pulls back and searches his face as though looking for traps. "I mean it," Wei Ying says. "Please?"
Lan Zhan swallows, then nods. "I don't…we have no supplies."
Wei Ying shrugs. "I'm fine, I haven't—it's been a long time for me. And I'm fine."
"Me too," Lan Zhan tells him. Suddenly Wei Ying wonders who the last person that Lan Zhan fucked had been. Huh. That's probably not a thought for right now. Maybe later. Then Lan Zhan bites his lip. "Lube…"
Wei Ying reaches down between them and runs a hand over their dicks, feeling the slick that's collected there. "We're pretty wet. And there's also spit."
Lan Zhan's expression changes minutely and suddenly, he looks feral. Wild. Oh, Wei Ying has discovered something here.
He grins. "Sound good?"
Lan Zhan kisses him, hard. Then he moves back and sits up between Wei Ying's legs. He's glorious—beautiful, stunning, looking flushed, his dick dark and hard and oh, it's big. Wei Ying bites his lip and wriggles in anticipation. This is going to be fucking good.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" he goads and Lan Zhan grins—grins!—and then he's grabbing Wei Ying by the thighs, spreading his legs, and flipping him over. Wei Ying kicks him by accident and yelps as he does, and then, before he can process a thing, Lan Zhan buries his face in Wei Ying's ass and starts to lick him, no preamble. Wei Ying gasps and scrambles for purchase, grabbing the sheet and clinging to it as he trembles.
Oh fuck, if he hasn't gotten laid in ages, it's been literal years since anyone's done this for him. He cries out, his voice sounding constricted, as Lan Zhan laves at him, his tongue wet and strong, giving him no respite from the incredible feeling of it. Wei Ying fucking loves getting eaten out, and he can't believe how much Lan Zhan appears to be enjoying it, making all these tiny needy noises as he goes. Oh fuck, that's—that's a lot, and Wei Ying shuts his eyes and allows sensation to overtake him. It feels shivery, so fucking good. Lan Zhan's grip on his hips is strong enough to bruise, and Wei Ying hopes that it does. The strength with which Lan Zhan appears to want him is honestly almost too overwhelming—or would be, if Wei Ying didn't want him back just as much.
Lan Zhan eats him out for what feels like forever, getting everything nice and wet and slippery. And then he pulls back, spreads Wei Ying open—Wei Ying buries his flaming face in the sheets—and spits. Wei Ying feels the trickle of it on his hole and his balls before Lan Zhan spreads it around and, finally, begins to probe him with a finger. Wei Ying doesn't need much prep, he prefers to get straight to the fucking, but it does feel good, so he allows Lan Zhan to breach him. He isn't particularly soft about it, sliding all the way in on the first go. Wei Ying moans and bumps his hips back, hoping Lan Zhan gets it. It's a bit of a stinging ache, but Wei Ying can work with it. Lan Zhan pulls his finger almost all the way out, then slides it back in, and Wei Ying nearly rips the sheet caught in his fists with how good it feels.
"Don't, you can—you can just—just fucking go for it," he mutters, face flaming.
Lan Zhan seems to still above him. "Are you—"
"Yeah, I'm fucking sure," Wei Ying pants. "Come on, give it to me."
Lan Zhan squeezes his hips before letting go. Wei Ying raises his hips up in obvious, wanton invitation, knowing what he looks like right about now, hoping Lan Zhan likes it. Lan Zhan appears to like it as he makes a noise almost like a growl behind him. Wei Ying grins and bites his lip. Wei Ying loves getting fucked. Getting fucked by Lan Zhan might actually end him.
He hears slick sounds—Lan Zhan spreading his precome around. He seems to get pretty wet, which is hot as fuck. Wei Ying feels the anticipation of it shivering over his skin, skittering down his spine. Soon, soon, soon—and there, Lan Zhan's hand back on his hip, and then the blunt head of his dick at Wei Ying's hole.
"Wei Ying—"
"Do it, fuck me, come on," he asks, nearly begging. "Come on, come on—oh, fuck—"
Lan Zhan breaches him in one strong move, burying himself to the hilt on the first go. They both gasp as Wei Ying squeezes around him. It's a lot more than a single finger: Lan Zhan is thick, and feels so fucking good. He doesn't need an engraved invitation to start fucking Wei Ying almost right away, going slow at first, but not shying away from it, either. Wei Ying starts to lose his mind almost immediately, once the ache ends and the pleasure begins. Every time Lan Zhan nails his prostate, Wei Ying feels the spark of it go through him, moaning with abandon. Oh fuck, it feels just as good as he thought it would, having Lan Zhan fuck him. Lan Zhan starts off slow, but soon enough, it's as though he can't help it and begins to speed up, fucking Wei Ying hard, his fingers digging into Wei Ying's hips and ass. Over his own moaning, Wei Ying can hear Lan Zhan struggling for breath, his soft noises that strike like thunder at Wei Ying. He's making Lan Zhan feel good, Lan Zhan is feeling good because of him.
It's a heady, mind-blowing thought. Wei Ying begins to help out by meeting Lan Zhan thrust for thrust, speeding up until he's one continuous conduit of need, his voice breaking with how loud he's moaning.
"That's it, Wei Ying," Lan Zhan pants. "That's so good, you're so good, sweetheart—"
Wei Ying is nearly sobbing by now, his entire body lit up with mindless pleasure. Lan Zhan pins him further and further into the sheets until Wei Ying's face is pressed up against them and Lan Zhan's weight is making it difficult to breathe. Or maybe it's the sex itself. It's probably a combination of both. Wei Ying takes in a shuddering breath and turns his head, continuing to moan because he can't not make noise when he's feeling this good. They're fucking fast and hard now, Lan Zhan never wavering in his rhythm, which is a feat, as far as Wei Ying is concerned.
"Wei Ying, I'm—I'm close, I—"
"Oh fuck yeah, come inside me," Wei Ying pants out. "Don't pull out, come inside me, please, I want it—"
Lan Zhan makes a noise like he's dying and then his hips stutter and he gives one final thrust before stilling. Wei Ying feels his orgasm hit from the inside as Lan Zhan gasps and bends over, trembling above him. Oh fuck, Wei Ying is so glad Lan Zhan didn't pull out, so glad he got to feel it, so fucking glad—
Lan Zhan pulls out a moment later, grabs Wei Ying by the hips, and flips him back over onto his back as Wei Ying feels the first trickle of Lan Zhan's come slide out of his ass. Lan Zhan looks wrecked, wrecked in a way Wei Ying has never seen him before. Wei Ying is liable to explode, his dick hard and dark with blood, and before he can get there, Lan Zhan is reaching for it and starting to jerk off Wei Ying off fast and hard, Wei Ying's precome easing the way, making it feel incredibly good. "Fuck, Lan Zhan—"
"Wanted to see you," Lan Zhan pants out. "Wanted to see your face, let me see your face, Wei Ying." He sounds wrecked, too, his voice hoarse, unsteady.
Wei Ying squeezes his eyes shut and gives himself over to the feel of it, allowing Lan Zhan to get him there as pleasure gathers, gathers, gathers and crests, crashing over him. Wei Ying comes with a gasp, body arching off the bed, hands still fisting the sheets. Lan Zhan jerks him through it, not stopping until he's milked the last of it.
Wei Ying pants as he finally opens his eyes and is faced with the image of Lan Zhan licking his finger where Wei Ying's come clings to his skin. Well. That's. That's a thing. Wei Ying all but gapes, then falls back and laughs, breathless. "Fucking hell."
"Mn." Lan Zhan shifts and sits back on his haunches. "How do you feel?" he asks softly.
Wei Ying's eyes flutter open and he allows his grin to spread across his face. "Me?" He gives a satisfied moan. "I feel amazing."
And, as he watches, Lan Zhan's face breaks into a soft smile. It's like the sun coming out, and it nearly blinds Wei Ying.
*
Having cleaned themselves up, they're lying on the wrecked bed with Wei Ying snuggled up to Lan Zhan's chest and Lan Zhan's arm around Wei Ying. Wei Ying hadn't been sure of the protocol, what Lan Zhan would want or feel comfortable with, but he has discovered something incredible: Lan Zhan is a post-sex cuddler. He's holding Wei Ying close, their legs intertwined, and he smells absolutely amazing. Like sex, yes, but also like himself, his skin and his aftershave, the scent clinging to Wei Ying now, too. It feels so good, Wei Ying is liable to lose his mind.
"Fuck, that was…" He doesn't know how to finish that sentence. He hopes Lan Zhan understands.
He appears to. "Yes," Lan Zhan says, the rumble of his voice resonating against Wei Ying's ear on his chest. "You were…wonderful," he adds softly.
If Wei Ying were a cat, he would definitely be purring. He makes a satisfied noise of his own, instead, and wriggles in pleasure. "You were incredible," he says, because it's only polite—and it's only the truth. "Fuck, I can't believe we slept together," he adds, allowing whatever's in his head to escape through his mouth. He feels Lan Zhan stiffen at that and mentally berates himself for being stupid. "I mean, like, that's good, right?" he ventures. "It's a good thing? I've wanted you for so long, and I—I mean, I have no idea what happens now, I have no idea what you want, but no matter what you want, I'm happy we did this, it was amazing, you were amazing, and oh god, please shut me up, I don't know what I'm saying." Wei Ying buries his face against Lan Zhan's chest.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan says softly. "What is it that you want?"
Wei Ying breathes out. What a good question. What he wants is far scarier than one night of sex, and he isn't sure how to phrase it in a way that wouldn't scare Lan Zhan away. He realizes that he wants absolutely everything. What he says, in the end, is, "Anything that you can give me." He says it quietly, like a confession.
Lan Zhan breathes evenly in and out and, for a moment, he's quiet. "Wei Ying," he says finally. "I want everything."
Wei Ying's heart skips a beat, honest to God skips a beat, and he nearly whimpers. "Lan Zhan…"
"I know," Lan Zhan says quietly, "that our lives do not currently…intersect. But perhaps…they could."
Wei Ying finally lifts up his face and rests his chin on Lan Zhan's chest. "You think?"
"Yes." Lan Zhan's hand slides down Wei Ying's body, coming to rest on his ass in a really, really nice way. Wei Ying realizes that what he's feeling is…cherished. Protected. He hasn't felt either cherished or protected in a very, very, very long time. "Please allow me to be in your life. To be…to be with you."
Nothing for it. "Okay," Wei Ying says. He has no idea what sorts of logistics they'll have to go through to make it happen, but… "I want that. I want that so much. I've missed you so much, Lan Zhan."
"I've missed you," Lan Zhan says, squeezing Wei Ying's ass. Wei Ying wriggles with pleasure. "And," Lan Zhan says quietly, in a way that feels so intimate, Wei Ying shivers, "sex with you isn't something that I'm willing to give up now that I've had it."
Wei Ying bites his lip, pleasure shooting through his entire body. "I want to have sex with you, like, every day of our lives," he confesses. "You have no idea how much."
Lan Zhan leans in and Wei Ying leans forward and then they're kissing, tasting of sex and each other. "It's a deal," Lan Zhan says just as quietly.
Wei Ying grins.
No matter what they have to do to be together, Wei Ying knows, with a certainty he hasn't felt in a very long time, that they will make it work. Lan Zhan wants him, in every way. Wei Ying wants him right back. The rest is simply logistics.
***