So, this is what Wei Ying knows about Lan Zhan, courtesy name Lan Wangji. He is old money, comes from a bloodline boasting relations to a ruling dynasty (and by dynasty he means Ming, Tang, or Song, etc… he doesn’t know which one exactly), he is anti-superfluous in everything (except for rule abiding – when it comes to rule-breaking there is no worse enemy than Lan Zhan), he is a stickler for rules worse than Lan Qiren (and that’s saying something), he hates to be called Lan Zhan (which is unfortunate, cause Wei Ying refuses to call him anything else), he is the second young master of the Lan main family, Lan Zhan’s father – Qingheng-jun (Wei Ying doesn’t know his name, oops) intends to split the family responsibilities between Xichen-ge and Lan Zhan equally, so they are both heirs to the family everything (and with equal responsibility comes equal money), they have assets (Wei Ying appreciates Lan Zhan’s assets very much), both Xichen-ge and Lan Zhan have a fan club reaching thousands (because they are eligible bachelor number one and number two – though in his personal opinion, they should each be classified as 0.5, and form Uno by coming together as Voltron).
When he shares his opinions with Jiang Cheng, he tells Wei Ying that he is an embarrassment. His reaction had been ‘Please shut up, A-ying, Jesus Christ.’ to be precise. It was very hurtful. Though if they’re talking about embarrassments, Please look into the mirror, Jiang Cheng. He thinks his parents indulge A-cheng a bit too much. He is looking at his mother.
“He can’t be real.” He says to his mother, who nods very gravely, but he knows that she is laughing at him, and she knows that he knows. He clucks an unimpressed sound in her direction. “Mother, I am serious.”
“Yes, Lan Zhan is perfect.” Cangse parrots back from where she is sitting on their kitchen counter, enjoying her Ben & Jerry’s Oh Pear ice cream. He shudders. Pears. Blergh.
“I didn’t say that he is perfect.” He sputters. Mothers. So dramatic. “That is utter slander.” She laughs in his face, “Mother!” because she is traitorous traitor.
“Only you and A-jie are perfect.” Wei Ying says with a haughty sniff.
If you discounted their taste for certain things. Like his A-jie’s taste in men (the Peacock) and his mother’s taste in ice cream. Please refer to Exhibit ‘Ben & Jerry’s Oh Pear Ice Cream’.
His mother’s face softens, and she pulls him in for one of her famous ‘Baymax’ hugs, that both he and Jiang Cheng adore and fight each other for. He wins, naturally.
His thoughts are all over the place. Usually he’s able to shut his brain down when he is cuddled into his mother’s arms. But he is restless and almost vibrating with miserable energy.
“It’s okay to have a crush on Lan Zhan,” he starts to sputter out a refusal – because who has a crush on Lan Zhan? Certainly not him. He’s straight. Can he be straight? He’s only fourteen. Is it too early to declare one’s heterosexuality. Besides. Admitting to finding a boy cute doesn’t immediately make one gay. Does it? Safe to say, he is having a tiny bit of a crisis. He clings to his mother tighter.
His mother – because she is the best mum in the world (fight me, A-cheng; but A-cheng would probably agree with him, which makes him a bit sad, because his brother deserves the best mum too) hushes him and runs a soothing hand through his hair, “It would be weirder if you didn’t have a crush on Lan Zhan.”
He lifts his head from where he had it tucked under her chin. “I mean, he is cute.” He admits quietly, a bit nervously, and flushes immediately when his mother’s lips twitch into a smile that she almost immediately supresses. He tucks himself under her chin once more, to avoid saying more embarrassing things. “I gave him a drawing.”
“To mark the end of our year together-” he tucks himself in tighter, because he can feel how red his face is, and his mother is outright laughing at him now, because she is a horrible person. “He said he likes sunflowers too. After I told him that sunflowers are my favourite.”
He thinks he hears her coo, but that’s probably his imagination. His mother couldn’t possibly want to traumatise him that much. “So, I gave him a motif of a sun,” he mumbles into her blouse. And yes, his mother is actually laughing at him. TRAITOR!
“Because he is perfect like the sun?” his mother asks him in a choked-up voice.
“No!” He chokes out in turn.
Fuck his life, he should have just kept quiet. Should have found a distant cave in the Himalayas and become a hermit. Observed the tranquillity of silence or something. What had he been thinking?
But he is infinitely grateful that his dad and nana are not present for this conversation.
He shudders to think what his nana would do with the information. Is filled with an infinite amount of dread thinking about her grilling him about Lan Zhan. His cells turn to ice thinking about her badgering him to invite the second young master into their home and sniffing her unimpressed sniff at the sight of him, upon their introduction.
The way she had done to Lan Qiren apparently – according to his mother.
His mother had been in hysterics when she had relayed a heavily embellished version of the story, while his father had looked haunted by the memory. Rightfully so.
No wonder Lan Qiren couldn’t stand the sight of him. Given Wei Ying’s pedigree. The man probably relives the memory over and over again.
“I don’t like him.” he mutters sulkily into her blouse.
“Who? Lan Zhan?” Cangse murmurs, running a soothing hand down his back, chest shaking with the laughter she is muffling into his hair. Traitor.
He hums in answer.
“It’s still too early to be falling in like anyway,” she reassures him.
Like he said, best mother ever.
“But I’d still like him to be my son-in-law in the future. Go team.”
Actually, he takes it back. He should just find the nearest sink hole and drown himself.
So, Lan Zhan, courtesy name Lan Wangji, attends the same university as Wei Ying. Actually, Lan Zhan is in his third year of DPhil in Law at Oxford university. So technically Wei Ying is the one attending the same university as him. Cool cool. He can deal.
He can also deal with the fact that Lan Zhan, courtesy name Lan Wangji has grown into a behemoth of a man. Tall. Broad. Strait-laced. And so fucking handsome that he thinks he should hear an angels’ choir singing in the background wherever the man exists.
He’s seen grown women and men sigh longingly in Lan Zhan’s direction. He doesn’t blame them. He sighs too. Not that Lan Zhan ever notices. He doesn’t blame Lan Zhan though. The man’s probably gotten used to people thirsting over him left, right and centre.
Perfect like the sun, his mother’s laughing voice in his head whispers.
Lan Zhan is perfect like the sun, he thinks, groaning to himself.
The man is wearing a white button-down shirt, a dark blue jumper and cream-coloured chinos. Chinos! And honest-to-God brown oxfords. Lan Zhan’s evidently swallowed a Tommy Hilfiger catalogue. He is the posterchild for perfect collegiate style clothing, Wei Ying notes, feeling a bit faint. The entire ensemble makes him want to rip it all off of Lan Zhan. With his teeth.
Lan Qiren must be so proud. So would his nana, he thinks begrudgingly. Given her hatred for Wei Ying’s gothic fashion sense.
He'd learnt to accept that he can’t please everyone, a long time ago. He knows he looks sexy in his black and red clothing. Has been told that he looks good enough to eat a million times over. More importantly, his mother thinks he looks cute in his goth clothing. She even got him a choker as a ‘Congrats, you’re fucked’ present for getting enrolled into Oxford.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan says walking up to him, and he has to fight his limbs not to swoon.
He’s had embarrassingly raunchy dreams about that voice. And the dreams are about to become progressively worse, he thinks miserably, now that he’s heard the adult version of the voice.
“Lan Zhan.” He breathes out, breathily. Jiang Cheng is right. He is an embarrassment. He fights not to blush when Lan Zhan’s eyebrows furrow in concern.
He then squeaks when Lan Zhan places a large calloused hand (large, a lascivious voice emphasises in his head; because his inner monologue is delivered by a horny gremlin) on Wei Ying’s forehead to measure his temperature.
“It’s ok. I’m ok, it’s just global warming.” He says, like an absolute moron with clear signs of brain rot, obviously unworthy of being enrolled in the engineering doctoral program if he is blaming his crush-induced hot flushes on global warming in the middle of the coldest autumn (according to MET) England has experienced in eight years. Lan Zhan looks even more concerned.
He back tracks. “I mean, I am hot.” Which is infinitely worse.
“I mean, I’m feeling hot because of the million layers, Lan Zhan!”
Which could not be further from the truth when he is only dressed in a thin t-shirt, jeans and boots, with his scarf twisted around his neck haphazardly, in a way that provides no warmth. Because this is Wei Ying. And he’s forgotten his hoodie and autumn jacket in his room. Because he is still not a functional adult, even at the age of twenty-five.
Where is the sinkhole when you need it?
Lan Zhan does that thing, the long blink thing that he does when he thinks Wei Ying is being stupid. Which. Ha. No argument there. And Wei Ying’s traitorous body chooses that moment to shiver in the cold, prompting Lan Zhan to offer his very expensive wool coat to him.
His first instinct is to refuse, because firstly, Lan Zhan should never be cold. Secondly, the brown coat would clash horribly with his all-black ensemble. But more importantly, he thinks he will pop a boner if he is made to wear anything body-warmed by Lan Zhan or smelling of sandalwood. And his jeans are tight enough to make things very painful if he does. Pop a boner, that is.
But evidently, he’s forgotten how obstinate the other man can be, because the next thing he knows, Lan Zhan’s shoved him into the coat, and he is surrounded by Lan Zhan’s comforting warmth and the nostalgic smell of sandalwood.
It reminds him of their design and technology period at school. Working on their D&T project together at the library or at Lan Zhan’s room in their boarding house; surrounded by the smell of sandalwood incense.
He pops the boner. Because of course, why not?
“Unlike you, my body temperature actually runs hot.” He’s informed, with a smile lingering at the corner of Lan Zhan’s lips. The entire effect is devastating.
“I can’t believe you have piercings. You’re such a rebel, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan has multiple piercings. One on each lobe and two on the cartilage of his left ear. Wei Ying had almost died from a boner-induced aneurism at the discovery. Lan Zhan continues to make his life very hard.
On the bright side, his mum is having a grand time mocking him for his life choices whenever he calls.
“So do you, Wei Ying.”
He’s come to both love and hate the way Lan Zhan says his name. Like Wei Ying’s name is something to be savoured. To be treasured. It makes his heart wobble and his concentration shatter. Which is unfortunate because Lan Zhan loves to say his name a lot.
“Yea, but I’m a goth.” Lan Zhan shoots his clothing a doubtful look. “Over-sized jumpers can be goth too, Lan Zhan!”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan says, diplomatically.
“What? It’s the colour scheme that matters.” Wei Ying pouts.
The other man gives him an unblinking stare before returning his attention to his Law textbook, like an asshole. Which is inexcusable. How dare he pay attention to his studies while Wei Ying is around to be a pest.
“Lan Zhan, what did your uncle say about the piercings?” He asks the taller man, crawling over to where he is sat leaning against the sofa, with his books and notes arranged around him carefully. He tries not to disturb the arrangement; because the last time he had, Lan Zhan had glared at him in a way that had frozen his blood and shamefully directed all of it to his cock.
It had been very unfortunate. Especially because he’d been dressed only in a pair of joggers and a loose jersey t-shirt. And the erection had been very obvious through the fabric. But then again, Lan Zhan had been in a down-right rotten mood from the start, that day. He should have just gone home instead of bothering the other man.
“Lan Zhan, pay attention to me.” Wei Ying whines at him, tugging at his navy-blue jumper.
“I always pay attention to Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmurs, reaching over to Wei Ying’s pile of books and notes to grab the ones he’d been looking at before he got distracted by Lan Zhan. Studying with Lan Zhan is so hard. Urgh. “But Wei Ying needs to finish the paper for day after tomorrow, no?”
“It’s day after tomorrow, I have plenty of time.” He scoffs dismissively, throwing the papers away as soon as Lan Zhan hands them to him. He squirms at Lan Zhan’s disapproving look and almost reaches over to where he’d thrown the papers at, to see if Lan Zhan would praise him for being a good boy. Before shaking his head. Nope. His dick, however, doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo and is embarrassingly hard. His dick has it so hard.
“Anyway, back to the topic at hand,” he says with a flourish. Lan Zhan shoots him a droll look at the dramatics. I love him, he thinks with a desperation bordering on heartache. It’s been a terrible time for his heart. “Your uncle, does he know about the piercings?” He is treated to another long neutral look, which he absolutely meets without squirming too much.
“Mn.” Lan Zhan murmurs finally.
His answer makes Wei Ying perk up. “You mean, he knows?” he asks, gleefully imagining old man Lan’s reaction with a laugh. “Oh my god, how did he react?” He asks poking Lan Zhan’s sides which yields nothing. Because sometimes, Lan Zhan is no different from a block of wood.
He keeps poking to see if different combinations of fingers or pokes of different forces yields a different reaction. For Science, he argues mentally. But nope. Nothing.
Finally, Lan Zhan grips him by his wrists, huffing out a sigh filled with exasperation, and stills him. Which, bad idea. Because now he is confronted with the realisation that Lan Zhan’s hands are large enough to enclose both of Wei Ying’s wrists in one hand. Two wrists in one hand.
Large, points out the horny gremlin that lives inside his head.
Wei Ying is not a small man, he’s not beefy, leans more towards the lithe end of the spectrum – which suits him. But he runs, he has a blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do and he’s toned. But he’s come to realise (very giddily) that Lan Zhan absolutely dwarfs him. Sometimes he doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge. Actually, he jerks off to it. But that’s neither here nor there. He’s always known about his size kink.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan murmurs, making him glance up.
Which in hindsight, another huge mistake. Because Lan Zhan’s eyes are soft and fond, and his expression is relaxed and open. And Wei Ying has gone so long without the other man, has missed him so much after he had to transfer schools, after his mother’s job at RAF had moved them to Cranwell.
He doesn’t know how long they sit frozen, gazing at each other, before Lan Zhan huffs out a choked laugh, startling Wei Ying into motion. He blushes bright red, much to his mortification. He jerks back with a laugh.
“We don’t talk about it.” Lan Zhan tells him quietly.
Wei Ying shoots him a questioning glance, and tries to shuffle back because he is still far too close to the other man. But one of Lan Zhan’s hands is still gripping onto one of his wrists, so he can’t actually move away without wrenching his wrist out of Lan Zhan’s grip and he doesn’t want to do that. “About my piercings, we ignore them during our dinners. Brother doesn’t care anyway.”
“Oh,” he says, quietly. Because of course it’s only Xichen-ge and old man Lan now.
Lan Zhan’s parents had passed away in a boating accident a few years ago. It had been all over the news. He reaches out unconsciously, gathering Lan Zhan into a hug, or more specifically crowding into the other man’s space to give him a squeezy hug. “My mum gives better hugs, but you’ll have to do with me for now.”
“Mn. Wei Ying’s hugs are the best.” Lan Zhan whispers into his neck, where he’s nosed his way into, making Wei Ying shiver with pleasure. He’s a cauldron full of bad ideas lately.
“How would you know, huh?” He asks, clearing his throat when his voice comes out squeakier than normal. “You met my mum without me, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn. She was there at the funeral.” Lan Zhan tells him, gathering him up until he is almost in Lan Zhan’s lap. Oh. Oh yeah. His mum had been good friends with Lan Zhan’s mum. Lan Zhan’s mum had been in the RAF too, with Cangse before she got married to Lan Zhan’s dad. He tightens his arms around Lan Zhan in comfort.
“Well, you still can’t say things like that about my mum,” Wei Ying tells him, voice shaky with emotions. “My mum’s hugs are the best. She’s like Baymax.”
Lan Zhan huffs out a laugh at that, before pulling Wei Ying in, until he is sat on the other man’s lap properly. All enveloped in Lan Zhan’s warmth and the sandalwood smell.
He vaguely remembers Lan Zhan telling him that he runs hot. It is crushing to discover that he does, in fact, run hot. How can he let go of Lan Zhan now? He thinks miserably. After all, Wei loves warm things. Considering he runs cooler than normal.
He tucks himself in, shamelessly. Because what is shame? He has no shame. Besides, Lan Zhan seems to be very much onboard with the idea of cuddling anyway.
“I want to get more piercings.” He tells Lan Zhan. Nosing at the other man’s jumper-clad shoulders. Cashmere, he thinks. The texture is so soft and comfortable.
He wants to wear Lan Zhan’s jumpers, he thinks. Just the jumpers, he thinks with a shiver. Maybe one day, he’ll steal one, and wear the jumper around his room. With nothing else to get in the way. Just soft cashmere on his skin. He shivers at the thought. Or maybe he’ll steal one of Lan Zhan’s graduating class hoodies.
“Mn. Where?” Lan Zhan murmurs.
“Um… one helix, one industrial and one orbital.” He raises his head to point to the areas. And promptly realises his mistake, when Lan Zhan brushes his fingers against the shell of Wei Ying’s ears.
“You will look very pretty.” Lan Zhan tells him fondly. “Anywhere else?”
His mind is still stuck on Lan Zhan calling him pretty. The moment playing out in his head over and over again, in a loop. For a few minutes all he hears is static. Lan Zhan thinks he is pretty? Does Lan Zhan want him to get more piercings? Where does he want Wei Ying to be pierced? The idea itself, that Lan Zhan wants him to be pierced in other places, is so hot that he almost combusts on the spot.
He can feel his cock filling out properly and would have squirmed in his place on Lan Zhan’s lap if the other man had not gripped him around his waist with one of his arms. He almost cries out, when pleasure zings from his cock to the ends of his finger and toes. Well that confirms his strength kink, he thinks, a bit dizzy from the blood rush.
It’s never too late to discover kinks, comes a voice that sounds terrifyingly like his A-jie’s. He is never discussing anything sex-related with his A-jie, he thinks. Ever.
“Umm… where would you like me to be pierced?” He asks the other man shakily, because he can never keep his mouth shut. And he has the self-preservation skills of a lummox.
He focuses on where his restless fingers are plucking at a loose thread on Lan Zhan’s jumper to keep himself from imploding with embarrassment. He is such a slut for Lan Zhan, he thinks, burning with mortification.
If he had looked at the other man’s face though, he would have seen the way Lan Zhan’s nostrils had flared at the question, would have seen the way his pupils had dilated, would have seen the way his ears had turned red and hot with blood. He would have seen the way his lips had parted; he would have seen the abject lust on the other man’s face. Until he’d looked utterly predatory and deranged with want.
But Wei Ying is busy plucking at a loose thread from Lan Zhan’s jumper and not dying from blue balls. He is busy trying to direct the blood away from his erection. So, he misses out.
His eyes snap up when Lan Zhan’s palms drift up and one of his fingers come ridiculously close to fingering one of Wei Ying’s nipples. He lets out a surprised gasp, because surely, strait-laced Lan Zhan could not be telling him to get a nipple piercing, could he?
His Lan Zhan is the Good Son™. The stickler for rules, the proper one, the well-behaved one, the one boy every single mother vies for their daughters. The most eligible bachelor in their social group. And beyond their social group. The young man all daughters want to take home to introduce to their fathers. Because Lan Zhan is good, is kind and looks the part of a well-behaved, studious young man. Unlike Wei Ying. Whose fashion choices reflect his personality as a menace to the society.
But the idea is already growing in his mind, like a cancer. It would be like ownership, he thinks giddily. Getting a nipple piercing because Lan Zhan wants him to, for Lan Zhan, because it would make Lan Zhan happy. The idea, the promise of it is dizzying. It has Wei Ying attempting to squirm. He is only held in place by Lan Zhan’s ridiculous arm strength. Which quite frankly, he is very glad for.
“Do you lift?” He asks in a small strangled voice.
Lan Zhan huffs out a small equally strangled-sounding laugh. “You know I do.”
“Okay,” Wei Ying says. “Perfect.” Before he scrambles off of Lan Zhan’s lap with a hysterical-sounding laugh.
Lan Zhan lets him go reluctantly. He tries his best not to examine why. “Is it hot? I think it’s very hot. Wow. I think I am going to get a glass of water. Do you want a glass of water, Lan Zhan? I will get you a glass of water, okay?”
He scuttles away without waiting for an answer.
He submits his paper the next day and gets a barbell through his nipple as a treat; the one Lan Zhan had almost fingered. And spends an entire week in a painful state of arousal.
He makes sure not to touch the piercing. But the temptation is there. His nipples have always been sensitive, but the barbell through one seems to have increased the sensitivity of the other bud by tenfold.
He spends a ridiculous amount of time on his bed, fingering, pinching and pulling at the unpierced nub until he comes from it. From the idea of Lan Zhan playing with his nipples.
When he feels more under control, he goes to Claire’s to get his helix, orbital and industrial. It all feels very anti-climactic.
He brings Lan Zhan rabbit food as an apology for ignoring him for an entire week. But merely seeing him has his nipples tighten up in misery, makes his cock wet. He wants. He needs to avoid the other man for a little bit longer, he thinks. His heart sinks.
He’s been toying with the idea of getting a tattoo for the longest time. Since he’d been fifteen and miserable from the move to Cranwell, to be exact. When he’d approached his mother about it, she’d asked him what he wanted. And he’d told her that he wanted a pair of rabbits – one black and one white. He’d refused to examine why. She’d told him to wait for six months.
After six months had passed, she’d asked him again, if he still wanted the rabbits. But he’d changed his mind by then. I want an apple, he’d said. Representing Eve and her fall from Grace at the hands of a man who’d blamed her. His mother had smiled and told him okay, we’ll wait another six months.
After another six months, she’d asked him again. But he’d changed his mind, yet again. I want a dragon, he’d said. Ambitious, she’d told him. That’s a lot of pain, Wei Ying. Wait another six months and if you haven’t changed your mind, we’ll get you your dragon.
By the time the six months had ended, he’d realised what she’d meant to do.
“I want a tattoo.” Wei Ying says, sipping on his Hazelnut Praline latte with an atrocious amount of whipped cream (Lan Zhan’s very terrible opinion; not his).
They have managed to snag one of the comfy sofa tables by the window of the Costa on Queen’s Street. And he’s cuddled up next to Lan Zhan, shamelessly leaning against his side with one of Lan Zhan’s arms around his shoulders to ensure maximum cuddling.
“Mn. First one, or another one?” Lan Zhan asks him, rubbing absent circles where he is gripping at Wei Ying’s arm. It’s nice. Cuddling with Lan Zhan. He snuggles into the other man’s jumper clad chest, nosing at the soft fabric; almost sneezing when the fabric tickles at his nose.
He feels almost shy sharing the knowledge.
He glances up in concern when Lan Zhan’s arm tightens around him suddenly. But Lan Zhan’s face is serene, and his eyes are guileless when he glances down at Wei Ying.
“I thought you wanted to get rabbits.” Lan Zhan says. Leaning forward to place his mug of green tea on the table, taking Wei Ying with him.
He almost chuckles at the yo-yo movement. “Are we honestly attached by the hip, Lan Zhan?”
Wei Ying brushes a soft kiss against the Lan Zhan’s chest in comfort when he looks down in concern. “Would you like to get up?” he asks Wei Ying, looking like he is getting ready to untangle himself from Wei Ying’s ungrateful stupid self.
Please learn to keep your mouth shut, he scolds himself.
“No, No. I like being attached by the hip to Lan Zhan. Thank you for your sacrifice, gege.” He pats the other man on his abdomen; that are tight and sculpted and hard. He is pretty sure Lan Zhan has a ten pack or something ridiculous like that. Could humans even achieve ten-packs? If humans were capable of such a feat, Lan Zhan would, he thinks dazedly.
The amount of time Wei Ying has dedicated to stalking Lan Zhan on Instagram is truly shameful. Looking for thirst traps that don’t seem to exist. He is ashamed of himself, truly. Instead, the man’s Instagram seems to be dedicated to scenic shots, Lan Xichen, travel pictures, and Lan Zhan’s rabbits (Bok choy and Cabbage; it had been an experience, discovering Lan Zhan’s truly atrocious record in naming his pets; he can never look at A-cheng in his stupid face again) – they are to die for. No pictures of Lan Zhan though, apart from a rare forearm from pictures of him petting his rabbits.
Wei Ying has masturbated to the forearm. Because, of course he has. He is very ashamed of himself. But it is a glorious forearm; veiny, thick, wide wrists giving way to large graceful hands and long pianist fingers. Wei Ying has imagined so many scenarios involving Lan Zhan’s forearms. Has imagined the forearms with tattoo sleeves and promptly blacked out from the force of the orgasm. He thinks he has a forearm kink that is very specific to Lan Zhan.
He is discovering new things about himself every day.
“Does Xichen-ge have an Instagram?” he blurts out suddenly. Maybe, his Instagram would be a little bit more illuminating in the way of thirst traps dedicated to Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan’s older brother has always been more generous in that regard.
“Oh, just curious.” He lies, like a fucking liar. He hears Lan Zhan huff out a fond laugh.
“You want to get a tattoo.” Lan Zhan reminds him, gently drawing Wei Ying tighter against his chest. Wei Ying could possibly sit here and not move for a million years. Ferment in the bliss of being cuddled against the wide expanse of Lan Zhan’s chest.
“Yes.” He says finally, once his brain comes online. “I finally know what I want to get.”
“Not the rabbits?” Lan Zhan asks.
“No.” He says, playing with the ends of Lan Zhan’s jumper distractedly. “I mean I thought about getting the rabbits first. Like one black and one white.” He hears Lan Zhan hum in acknowledgement. “But then mum asked me to wait for six months and by the time the six months ended I was going through this religious phase, and by religious phase, I mean I was angry with the entire Adam and Eve story and the entire tree of knowledge thing. I mean, I just think it’s so unfair that everyone assumes that the devil spoke with Eve because he assumed Eve would be the weaker one, when Adam is equally weak. He didn’t have to eat the apple, but he ate it anyway, and everyone blames Eve for it. She didn’t make him eat the apple. The choice to eat was very much Adam’s. But no. Let’s blame Eve. Like, no my dude, humanity didn’t fall from heaven because of a woman, humanity fell because they weren’t given enough answers and knowledge to arm themselves against supernatural forces intent on their ruin, you know?”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan rubs one big hand down his back, soothing his ruffled feathers, because fine, he still gets ruffled over the topic. Religion and him don’t go very well together. He doesn’t appreciate the entire theology behind not asking questions and just blindly accepting what he’s been told.
He knows Lan Zhan doesn’t either. Though, Lan Zhan’s approach to it leans more towards calmly acquiring foreknowledge and systematically dismantling the other person’s argument, point by point. It is the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Lan Zhan’s done it once, to one of Wei Ying’s colleagues (an entitled, racist douchebag). He’d snuck off to the toilet to jerk off after the experience. He’d come so embarrassingly fast. He likes intelligent people. Or more specifically, he likes Lan Zhan’s razor-sharp no-nonsense intelligence.
“So what did Wei Ying want to get, during his anti-religious phase.” Lan Zhan asks.
“An apple with a bite taken out” He lifts himself off Lan Zhan’s chest to point to the back of his ear. “I wanted to get the tattoo here.” He says, pointing to the area.
Lan Zhan cradles the back of his neck and skull, his large hands dwarfing the expanse making Wei Ying shiver. He rubs an indulgent thumb against the protruding bony bit of his skull, behind his ears, where he would have gotten the tattoo. “Here?” He asks and Wei Ying lets out a strangled mlerp. “That would have hurt, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan tells him, chucking him fondly under his chin. “You don’t like pain.”
It’s not that he is averse to pain. Sure, he doesn’t like it. Doesn’t want to be in it. If the option of not being in pain exists, he would choose that in a heartbeat. It’s just. He likes certain kinds of pain. Maybe a bit too much. Like the pain from piercing his nipple. Or the pain from getting his navel pierced. That pain had been shuddery good, and he’d spent the entire day walking around in a daze, with a stiffy that wouldn’t go down. Wanting to rub against the barbell in his nipple or the bioflex through his bellybutton. But he’d been informed – rather unceremoniously, to not touch any of the piercings until he’s fully healed.
He thinks the pain from getting a tattoo would make him come in the surgical chair. How does he share that with Lan Zhan?
“I mean, I don’t mind it,” he says finally. Relaxing against Lan Zhan’s chest. “I could take it. I just didn’t get it because I couldn’t decide on something permanent. But I’ve been going around this idea for months, possibly years actually.”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan says. Squeezing his arm around Wei Ying’s waist fondly. “What is it?”
He bites his lips and debates the pros and cons of showing the design to Lan Zhan. It is incredibly personal, and a bit creepy if Wei Ying considers the implications behind the tattoo carefully. Which is why he doesn’t. The photo of the drawing he has on his phone isn’t HD anyway.
He loads the photo and holds his phone out to Lan Zhan, breath held in anticipation. The idea of getting a lotus had come to him after his first visit to Lotus Pier, back in China. The ancestral home of the Jiangs, and practically, his dad’s second home. A-Cheng, A-jie and him, they’d spent the entire summer together. Eating lotus seeds, frying lotus seeds, pickling lotus seeds, drying lotus seeds. Their summer had been dedicated to caring for the lotus cove inside the manor grounds. But more importantly, hanging out with each other before Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng had to start university in different corners of the UK that autumn. It’d been the best summer ever. He’d looked forward to going back the next year, until A-cheng had informed him that the peacock would be tagging along. And he’d continued to tag along year after year after he and A-jie had finally gotten serious, much to A-cheng’s and his indignation. It has never been the same afterwards.
The lotus is coloured in the bright purple of the Jiang’s livery, fading to the silver of the Sanren’s. The black lines of the lotus are formed of words of the Pablo Neruda poem (written in beautiful cursive – courtesy of Wen Ning) that Lan Zhan had read to him during their last summer together, back when they’d been fifteen and new to everything. The shadow poem. The lines are too blurry in the picture to make out the tiny cursive, he hopes.
“It’s beautiful.” Lan Zhan tells him. Smiling down at Wei Ying.
“You shouldn’t smile like that.” He blurts out, like a dummy. Wiping the precious smile off of Lan Zhan’s face. His face twists into one of confused hurt. “No, I mean, you shouldn’t smile like that, because what if someone saw you and decided to kidnap you and take you away from me, and then I will lose my pillow, Lan Zhan. You can’t make me lose my pillow. Who will cuddle me then?” The words rush out of him like a waterfall, like verbal diarrhoea.
A-cheng is right. He is an embarrassment.
He tucks his face into Lan Zhan’s chest to hide his flushed cheeks and realises the other man’s chest is vibrating with laughter. “Lan Zhan don’t laugh! That’s mean. You’re so mean.” He whines. And then pouts into Lan Zhan’s chest, face burning with mortification.
“Will never leave Wei Ying, I promise.” Lan Zhan tells him, closing his arms around Wei Ying’s body.
“I don’t like you.” Wei Ying informs him sulkily. Still burning with embarrassment.
“Mn. I like Wei Ying very much though, so what to do?”
“Oh my god, you can’t just say things like that.” He slaps Lan Zhan on his very solid abdomen. And his brain and libido notes with a fevered delight that there’d been no give. You could bounce a ball off on Lan Zhan’s abs. Lan Zhan could possibly crush the ball with his abs. He doesn’t know what to with himself.
Lan Zhan, he notices, is still chuckling to himself, while squeezing a mortified Wei Ying in his arms. Hmph.
“Where do you want to get it?” Lan Zhan asks.
Wei Ying takes a deep breath and directs one of Lan Zhan’s hands to his left hipbone. He thinks Lan Zhan takes a surprised breath. But he is in no shape to look at Lan Zhan in his face.
“I haven’t decided whether I want the tattoo on the bone, or the fleshy part. Any thoughts?” He asks, nuzzling into Lan Zhan’s chest.
“Mn. The bone’s very painful, side’s less so, but both would be equally beautiful.” Lan Zhan tells him, sounding a bit breathless himself. Perhaps he is leaning too much of his weight onto Lan Zhan’s chest? He starts to move, but Lan Zhan just tightens his arms around him, keeping him in place.
“How do you know so much about tattoos?” Wei Ying asks, because the other man had sounded a bit too intimately familiar with the topic. “Don’t tell me you have one, oh my god, Lan Zhan. You rebel. Do you have a tattoo?”
He scrambles up, to peer up at the man with wide-eyed interest. “Do you have a tattoo, you secret hooligan?” He gasps theatrically. “What will your uncle say?”
Lan Zhan’s lips twitch up into a small smile, eyes soft. The entire effect is devastating. Wei Ying can never look at him for too long when Lan Zhan is like this.
“Wei Ying’s going to get a tattoo as well.” Lan Zhan murmurs, chucking him under the chin fondly. Oh, so soft, that it gets painful for Wei Ying to be around the other man too much. But much like any other masochist, he keeps coming back for more and more.
“Yea, well, I am a goth. So it’s all in the purview, you know.” He says, laying his head down on Lan Zhan’s chest. “You’re so good, Lan Zhan. I missed you so much.” He chokes out.
“I missed Wei Ying more.” Lan Zhan says. The tenderness in his voice breaking Wei Ying’s heart open further.
How can I give this up to anyone else, now that I’ve had a taste?
He’s ruined, he thinks miserably, Lan Zhan’s ruined him for anyone else.
He finds out about Lan Zhan’s sexual history completely by accident. While waiting for one of his research seminars to begin. He is not the type to be early, in fact, his colleagues like to tease him by saying that him being on time is a total solar eclipse kind of phenomenon. They think they’re hilarious. He doesn’t. When in reality, he is the student who arrives exactly a minute past the hour the lecture is set to begin on. It drives his lecturers mental. Now that, he finds hilarious. Tardy or not, he’s the one who scores the highest, so jokes on them.
It’s a group of white girls, and their one gay male friend. He peeks to see if anyone from his seminar is in the room with them. Nope. It’s just them.
They are having a torrid discussion about Su Minshan’s abysmal skills in satisfying his sexual partners. He almost snorts. He could have told them that after one glance at Su Shit.
So, according to the gay guy, Su Shit has no skills (when it comes to sex) and a tiny dick. Which is unfortunate and quite possibly TMI. Su Shit kisses like a hoover and is slobbery like a dog – which is frankly rank. He half doesn’t want to listen to this. Su Shit is also incredibly insecure about the aforementioned small dick and blusters to make up for it but doesn’t know how to work it. He snorts. Su Shit doesn’t have a good enough body to make up for the lack of skills – though he doesn’t know how having a great body could make up for not having any skills. He tried that with Wen Chao during Wen Qing’s graduation party, and safe to say, he’s never doing that again. Also, Su Shit is apparently a religious gym goer who lifts, but wasn’t able to support the gay guy’s weight while fucking him against the door. The ridiculousness of the remark makes Wei Ying’s eyebrows shoot up. He thinks the idea is very sexy, but logistically speaking, human beings are not capable of such strength, in reality. Unless the person being fucked is anorexic to the point of being unhealthy or is a tiny midget. That shit is just impossible. He’s convinced that only fantastical sex Gods from fanfiction, or men from Mills and Boons novels are capable of it.
Wei Ying’s curiosity gets the better of him though, and he clicks on the man’s Instagram page to see if he has any gym photos on. He does, but they are not thirsty at all. In fact, it all reeks of such desperation that Wei Ying feels embarrassed for him. The page also makes something niggle at the back of his brain. Something about Su Shit. Something off about the man, though he can’t quite put a finger on it.
“He tries so hard to be like Wangji, it’s sad.” The gay guy is saying. And it’s like being struck by lightning. He sees it now. And yup, it’s sad alright. It’s so sad he feels bad looking through the man’s Insta. The same colour scheme, similar style of clothing, the same under cut. He even has rabbits, and that makes everything look a lot more desperate. And Wei Ying closes the app before he dies from second-hand embarrassment. He thinks about telling Lan Zhan about his number one stalker fan before dismissing the idea. Better if Lan Zhan remains unaware.
“You’re one to talk. You’re the one who shagged him.” A girl says, flapping her papers in the gay guy’s direction.
“I was making do, okay?” The guy moans in apparent misery. “Wangji doesn’t do second times.”
Wei Ying almost gives himself whiplash trying to peer around to look at the guy. Cause, what?
“The biggest tragedy in the world.” A blonde girl says. “I can’t believe he is gay. We have been robbed, ladies.” What?
“Amen” Everyone in the room intones solemnly.
“I would legit sacrifice a million cows for the cause if it turns him bi.” Another blonde girl says.
“I think it’s supposed to be virgins.”
“It’s 2020, if I want to sacrifice virgins, I would have to sacrifice babies.”
There is a cacophony of sound in reaction to the last statement. Almost all of it is negative, thankfully.
“Though, she has a point.”
“That’s not the point. We don’t kill babies.” It’s a tired sounding girl. “It’s far too early for this shit.” He can relate. He peers around to see if he recognises the girl. It’s a red head. But he doesn’t recognise the face. Oh well.
“It’s eleven, Haley.”
“Exactly, far too early.”
Yes, yes, far too early, please go back to discussing Lan Zhan, please?
“I honestly can’t believe you fucked Minshan after Wangji.” It’s another blonde. He is losing track of the blonde girls. There are too many blonde girls in the room, he thinks dazedly. He’s going to have to start numbering them. “I mean talk about a downgrade.” He names the blonde, 001.
“Please stop reminding me.” The guy whines. “It’s just, Minshan talked such an amazing game. I really thought he knew how to work his dick. Can’t believe it was all talk.” He sounds so disappointed that its difficult not to feel bad for him.
The group laughs, and he feels a bit bad for Su Minshan. Not that the man deserves it, after everything he did to Wei Ying during their orientation week. Grade-A asshole. His shitty behaviour had been uncalled for.
“What about Wangji though?”
Yes, what about Wangji? He thinks a bit desperately, before starting to feel like a creep.
“Oh, Wangji. Wangji went beyond my expectations,” the guy says it so dreamily, with a comfortable familiarity to the topic that Wei Ying want to throttle him. He might even be a bit jealous. Cause how dare Lan Zhan fuck this guy and not Wei Ying. The man isn’t even good-looking.
But maybe, the man is Lan Zhan’s type. Wei Ying’s been hanging around Lan Zhan for more than eight months, if the other man had shown any interest in Wei Ying, he’d know, wouldn’t he? He sinks onto the floor in misery. And burns half with jealousy and half with curiosity, despite not wanting to listen to the group anymore. Bloody white people, he thinks uncharitably. Stupid white girls with their requisite gay male friend, who looks East Asian, come to think of it. Because of course. They couldn’t be more stereotypical. He is ashamed of Lan Zhan for fucking that twink and not this twink – this twink being Wei Ying.
He’d been right there, right on Lan Zhan’s lap on more than one occasion, ripe for picking and tasting. Why hasn’t he been picked?!
If Lan Zhan had given him a sign, just one, he would have picked himself up and delivered himself to Lan Zhan’s mouth for tasting. The only explanation he can think of is that Lan Zhan doesn’t want to taste his fruits. He wilts into the floor.
There is a sharp pain in his chest. He almost laughs, because it feels like his old friend heart ache. It feels like the day when they’d first met as children, when Lan Zhan had declared him too ridiculous to play with and had stalked off to play on his own. Like that time in their common room in their boarding school when Wei Ying had tripped into Lan Zhan’s lap (completely by accident) and had been dumped onto the ground unceremoniously, before Lan Zhan had stalked off in a pique. It feels like another rejection to add to the million rejections he’s received from the boy he’s been crushing on since his childhood.
“That arm strength though-”
“Oh my God, please shut up Dylan.”
Yes, shut up Dylan! A snide voice in his head snaps at the gay guy.
“But seriously, I’m telling you, his total body workouts really do help, he is supernaturally strong. I was surprised that he could keep at it for so long.”
“Please don’t encourage him.”
“He did me standing the entire time, the first time.” Oh?
“The first time?”
“The boy’s stamina isn’t a joke. He was swim team captain, remember? The stamina doesn’t lie.”
Oh. Oh wow.
“He fucked you like how many years ago?”
“It made an impression.”
“I can’t believe we’re still discussing Wangji.”
“He’s the best I’ve ever had.”
He can imagine. He doesn’t want to. But Lan Zhan is sweet, and kind and dedicated. No wonder Dylan had been ruined after a taste.
“This child, approached him the other night-”
“You mean more like ambushed him in the library,” the lone brunette with the glasses pipes up, looking haunted by the memory, “I still get flashes of second-hand embarrassment thinking about his desperate butt approaching Wangji, in the law library no less.” She cries out slapping the Asian Dylan on his arm. “Talk about desperation.”
“I know. Just so we’re clear, your desperation is a stain on our characters too. Think about us, Dylan.”
“I needed something to clean my palate after Minshan.” Asian Dylan whines like a rich, entitled, annoying little bitch. It’s making Wei Ying twitch. He might even end up punching the git.
“Oh my god.” All the girls in the group cringe into their hoodies.
You could just punch him; he thinks at the girls mean-spiritedly.
“But he said he has a boyfriend now, apparently.”
What? What boyfriend? Lan Zhan has a boyfriend? Who is the boyfriend?
Who do I have to kill? His mother’s voice pipes up in his mind, dangerously even.
Lan Zhan has a boyfriend and he hadn’t even bothered to introduce him to Wei Ying? But come to think of it, why would he? Wei Ying’s behaved like such an embarrassment all these months. Clingy and cagey at the same time. If he is Lan Zhan’s boyfriend, he would want to punch Wei Ying in the face and tell him to go away. Of course, Lan Zhan wouldn’t want that for either of them. Easier to just not let either of them meet until Wei Ying settles down and gets over his desperate behaviour.
“I think I’ve seen the boyfriend from the back, or maybe the sides, but I can tell he is very pretty. Like so pretty.”
“Oh yeah, I remember you texting me. You were so drunk though-” one of the blondes reach out to slap another one. “Bitch took a photo,” she says with an honest-to-God cackle, “only the photo was blurry, because her butt was that drunk.”
“That’s like a violation of so many things. You can’t just go around taking photos of Wangji and his boyfriend.” He likes the brunette he decides. She is the most sensible one out of all of them.
“They were hot together, alright? Like I would watch them together. They were that hot. Like I understand on an intellectual level that it’s difficult to be on Wangji’s level of hot, but this pretty boy, he was that pretty. Like so fucking pretty.” The creepy blonde from before gushes, before sighing dreamily. “I bet you, he even cries pretty.”
There is a chorus of ‘Claras’ in admonishment. He feels a bit sick after listening to them. A bit violated on Lan Zhan’s and his pretty boyfriend’s behalf – that Lan Zhan hasn’t introduced him to, yet. He’s back to feeling indignant and hurt. He’ll ask Lan Zhan the next time he sees him. Stride right up to Lan Zhan and brightly ask him for an introduction. Maybe hit Lan Zhan a bit, for keeping the boyfriend away from him. But maybe, he needs to calm down first. Take stock of his feelings and let them settle down before plunging in the direction of introductions.
“Oh, come on-” Clara is saying. “You saw what Dylan was like after Wangji was done with him. And we all know he is a bit of a freak in the sack from the stories-”
“You guys are all so embarrassing.”
“Even though he looks all strait-laced.”
There is a chorus of agreement. And the curious part of Wei Ying’s mind is ready to throw down against his guilty conscience.
For all their talks of hating locker room talk, isn’t this an exact facsimile of the much-reviled locker room talk? He feels disgusted after listening to them, like a hypocrite. He feels like asking them all to please shut up.
“I heard from Mae that he got a new tattoo on his hips.” What? Who? Who is Mae? Is Mae the name of the boyfriend? Is Mae Asian?
“No, he already had that one.” Wait, what? Lan Zhan has a tattoo? Did Mae-the-boyfriend tell them that?
“Do you remember the scandal when he almost quit the swim team after getting the tattoo on his thigh?” What the fuck? Lan Zhan, his strait-laced, good boy Lan Zhan has a thigh tattoo? He’s going to have a complex by the end of this.
A vague memory of Lan Zhan telling him that getting a tattoo on his hip bone would hurt rises up. And he flushes with the new knowledge.
So, he’d been speaking from personal experience then? Shows how well Wei Ying knows him.
“Didn’t the coach tell him no more tattoos?” The swim team coach had told Lan Zhan to stop getting tattoos? As in, plural? Lan Zhan has plural tattoos? How many tattoos does Lan Zhan have?
“Don’t put Wangji in a corner,” the girl named Clara says theatrically. “He’ll just walk out on you.” She concludes with a bright laugh.
“Did Mae say anything about new piercings?” Lan Zhan has piercings? Piercings in addition to the ear ones
“Please lower your thirst levels, the reek of desperation is getting to be a bit much.” The brunette from before mutters, before burying her flushed face into her arms.
“Fuck you all.”
He stands up. Because, it’s too much. He can’t stand the twittering of the white birds. And their requisite gay best friend. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to go home and give his heart a break.
“I think I have seen the boyfriend around the Engineering Department.”
He perks up. Boyfriend in Engineering Department? Undergrad? Postgrad? Is he in the same course as Wei Ying? Does Wei Ying know him? He feels a bit nauseous after the what-ifs register in his brain.
“Oh yeah, oh my God, the pretty one with Dr Griffith, right?”
“YES! The goth looking one! With the eyeliner!”
“The eyeliner game is strong with that one.”
His head is spinning. What?
“Wei W… Wei Xian?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…”
Lan Zhan’s dating an Engineering student who hangs out with Dr Griffith called Wei Xian?
He feels like he has been punched in the solar plexus with a hammer. Lan Zhan had told Asian Dylan that he is dating Wei Ying, courtesy name, Wei Wuxian. The pretty boy Lan Zhan is dating is him. He feels like laughing. He feels giddy.
But what if Lan Zhan had said it to simply avoid Asian Dylan? What if the Wei Xian they’re talking about is another Wei Xian. His name is Wei Ying after all. People in his program call him Yingying. So maybe there is another Wei in their department. A pretty undergrad student by the name of Wei Xian. Why else would Lan Zhan keep this from him? He would know if they’ve been dating. They haven’t even kissed. Lan Zhan would surely kiss him if they’ve been dating. Does Lan Zhan not find him desirable? Are they platonic soul mates? He doesn’t want to be platonic soul mates with Lan Zhan. He thinks Lan Zhan is his soul mate, but in a very un-platonic way. Like he wants to choke on Lan Zhan’s dick kind of way. Does Lan Zhan not want to choke him with his dick? Does Lan Zhan want to choke Wei Xian with his dick instead? Perhaps this Wei Xian is too young? Is the age discrepancy too big? Does Lan Zhan think Wei Ying would judge him for dating a younger guy? But he should know Wei Ying would never judge.
Who is he trying to convince? Wei Ying would totally judge. Wei Ying is judging Lan Zhan for not dating Wei Ying.
But why would he date Wei Ying? What does Wei Ying have to offer?
Actually, he has a lot to offer. He knows he is a catch. But to someone like Lan Zhan whose uncle hates Wei Ying. Someone who cannot navigate the world of posh twats with the grace and panache that Lans employ. Though Lan Zhan mostly navigates his world by ignoring everyone and everything. But Wei Ying is not the type to leave things alone. He would poke and prod and question. And if there is one thing he knows about the gentry for certain, it is that they love to take the path of least resistance. And that’s not Wei Ying. He would be a poor fit for Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan deserves the world. The best things in the world.
But Wei Ying would give the world to Lan Zhan, he would gift wrap it for him.
He rights himself to go back to his room because his mind is spinning. His thoughts are all over the place. He has experienced the full range of human emotions in the span of a few minutes and he is exhausted. He is in no shape to concentrate on the seminar. He’ll just e-mail his tutor and tell her that he is feeling extremely unwell. He feels shakey, and nauseous, and his brain feels a bit too big for his skull. In fact, it feels like his skull is pressing down on his brain tissue. He grimaces at the thought.
No seconds, the guy had said. Meaning, Lan Zhan only sleeps with a person once, and no more than once. Wei Ying doesn’t think he could do that with Lan Zhan. Frankly, he’s been too scared to think about sleeping with Lan Zhan. How does one imagine sleeping with Lan Zhan and then cuddle him without being in a state of perpetual horniness. He doesn’t know. He already exists in a state of perpetual horniness around Lan Zhan. Wei Ying would rather not do anything at all if it means making love to Lan Zhan just once. Though Lan Zhan would probably refer to it as fucking, actually who is he kidding? Lan Zhan would never refer to it as fucking, if it is with Wei Ying. Especially because it is with Wei Ying. Instead, Lan Zhan would rather do nothing. Everything tastes bitter in the midst of heartbreak, he thinks. He has never been this miserable before. This angry.
He thinks about calling A-jie. He thinks about calling his mother and telling her how terribly Lan Zhan sucks. Only Asian Dylan swears by Christ that Lan Zhan sucks very well. Wei Ying curses Asian Dylan for giving him the knowledge. What does he do with it now? What does he do with the knowledge that Lan Zhan is some sort of a sex God – who will never fuck Wei Ying, no matter how much he begs. And he has been begging, hasn’t he? He has been shameless crawling into Lan Zhan’s lap with the hopes of being ruined for anyone else.
Only Lan Zhan doesn’t want to ruin Wei Ying. He’d rather ruin an undergrad twink in Wei Ying’s Engineering department by the name of Wei Xian.
Lan Zhan should take responsibility for breaking Wei Ying’s heart, he thinks.
Fuck you and your secrets Lan Wangji take responsibility
Missed call 11:30
Missed call 11:33
Missed call 11:35
❤️💋Zhan Zhan 🔥🌻:
I’m really upset with you
I don’t want to talk to you right now
Missed call 11:39
Missed call 11:42
Missed call 11:45
Call disconnected 11:47
❤️💋Zhan Zhan 🔥🌻:
Wei Ying, come over.
Call disconnected 11:48
Call disconnected 11:48
Missed call 11:49
I don’t like you anymore
❤️💋Zhan Zhan 🔥🌻:
Wei Ying. What happened?
Wei Ying come over please. 🥺🥺
A-ying, What happened? 🥺
Missed call 11:52
Missed call 11:55
I’m coming over
But don’t think I have forgiven you
I’m still angry with you
Actually I want to punch you in your perfect face
I hate your perfect face
Who the fuck is Wei Xian
Is he some undergrad twink
❤️💋Zhan Zhan 🔥🌻:
I can’t believe you
I hate you so much right now
Missed call 12:04
Missed call 12:06
❤️💋Zhan Zhan 🔥🌻:
A-ying please pick up the phone.
Call disconnected 12:10
Call disconnected 12:10
Call disconnected 12:11
Call disconnected 12:11
Call disconnected 12:11
Call disconnected 12:11
Will you stop calling I’m omw
And dont call me Aying
❤️💋Zhan Zhan 🔥🌻:
Wei Ying where are you?
Have you eaten?
Bubble tea isn’t going to cut it
And don’t you dare try and feed me
I’m not eating anything
❤️💋Zhan Zhan 🔥🌻:
Of course, I’m waiting for you
He arrives at Off Woodin’s Way at quarter to one and proceeds to stand by the entrance without pressing the buzzer for another five minutes because he’s feeling crappy. He knows that his face is red and blotchy and wholly unattractive from crying. But who cares? Certainly not Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan doesn’t find him attractive anyway. He’d rather date an undergrad twink from the Engineering Department by the name of Wei Xian. Couldn’t he have found a twink from another department? One that’s not related to Wei Ying. Did it have to be the Engineering Department? Doesn’t he know that Wei Ying is utterly incapable of leaving things alone? He is going to be stalking the fuck out of this Wei Xian, Wei Ying thinks bitterly. And it would be Lan Zhan’s fault.
Calling A-jie had been the worst thing he could have done, under the circumstances. It’s just, he’d wanted to hear her soothing voice. Spoil himself with her fond nagging. He hadn’t wanted to worry her though, so he’d spent the entire time pretending to be okay. Wei Ying is always okay. His brand is being okay. His mum says that it’s a crappy coping mechanism he developed from leftover childhood trauma. But his childhood had been happy. He knows he is loved. His mum and dad are the most supportive parents in the world.
But there’d been the three years he’d lived with his Jiang-shushu and Yu-ayi. He’d been seven years old, and naive and hurting from being left at their doorstep. He’d wanted his parents back. He’d cried non-stop until Yu-ayi had said that his parents didn’t want him anymore. That he’d been such a nuisance that they’d dumped him on Jiang-shushu, taking advantage of his soft heart for strays. No one likes crying children, she’d said. No one likes needy children. No one likes misbehaving children. No one likes Wei Ying. So, he’d learnt to swallow his hurt down despite not being okay. He learned to always be okay. Learned to smile through his hurt. Because he’d be abandoned otherwise.
He’d found out much later that his parents had only asked Jiang-shushu because his nana had broken her hip. She’d been in and out of the hospital and then in and out of rehab. His mum and dad had only left him because his mum had been transferred to Afghanistan and his dad to Iraq. He hadn’t been abandoned. But by then he’d internalised everything. He’s still learning to unlearn certain thing. Safe to say that his mum had torn Yu-ayi a new asshole when she’d found out. Now, that had been an experience.
News travels fast though – in their circle, and his mum had called him a bajillion times (thanks A-jie) and sent him vaguely threatening messages ordering him to call, or else.
In the end, he’d sent her a pacifying text message saying that Lan Zhan is stupid, and that Wei Ying hates him, just in case his mother decides to hack into one of their Defence satellites to track him down. The last thing he needs is for his mum to be tried for treason because her son is being stupid.
She’d sent him a couple of emojis in answer that he still can’t decipher. He thinks it’s a generation thing for them, talking with emojis. He’s seen Jiang-shushu do the same thing.
He’d sent a message to his dad asking him if Cranwell has a policy in place against using emojis to reply to texts. And his dad, being the shit, he is, had replied back with military acronyms.
He’d had to google them to find out the meanings (thanks for nothing, dad). And then, because his parents are horrible people, they’d sent him screenshots of Wei Ying’s google searches about the acronyms (which had been so terrifying that he’d spent a few minutes clutching at his pearls, like honestly, what the fuck parents? And he’s been praying to all the deities known to humankind that his parents don’t look through his less recent, raunchier google searches, ever since; because there are things that should remain sacred between parents and children).
His dad had sent him a message saying that he is disappointed in Wei Ying for googling military acronyms despite being a military brat. He resents his parents very much. And fuck the military anyway. It’s a toxic, outdated institution, and the biggest patriarchal stronghold. His parents should know better.
He hears a faint voice calling his name from above and looks up to see Lan Zhan peering down from his balcony. Looking almost unkempt. Wei Ying glares at the man before punching in the code to Lan Zhan’s building.
He is angry. And hurt. And sometimes he has a hard time validating his self-worth and tends to blame himself for things that he shouldn’t blame himself for. His nana tends to blame his parents for Wei Ying’s messed up personality. But Wei Ying is a mess, because he is a mess. He doesn’t think his parents should be blamed for that.
So, it’s hard to remain angry, to let himself feel hurt, because his brain tends to question him the entire way. His brain asks him, what right do you have for feeling hurt? For feeling angry, simply because Lan Zhan is dating someone else.
The hurt is because he wants to be the one that Lan Zhan wants. He wants to be the centre of Lan Zhan’s world, just as Lan Zhan is his.
The hurt is because Lan Zhan doesn’t think him important enough to share the information that he is dating someone from the Engineering department. Doesn’t think Wei Ying is important enough to introduce to his boyfriend. Hadn’t thought to share the news, when Wei Ying practically shares everything with him. Apart from his feelings for Lan Zhan.
The anger is there because he feels led on. Wei Ying had crawled all over him, clung to him, cuddled him, laid out his heart for him. Why does Lan Zhan let him get away with everything if he doesn’t feel the same?
The anger is there because Wei Ying feels stupid for thinking he could mean anything for someone like Lan Zhan. His nana is right about old money after all, he thinks with a bitter laugh. God, he feels so stupid.
He doesn’t take the lift. Because he doesn’t want to see Lan Zhan’s face too quickly. He takes the stairs slowly, in a torturous pace. He is a masochist. But a petty part of him wants Lan Zhan to suffer from anticipation, the same as him. When he finally reaches Lan Zhan’s floor, he sees that the other man is standing by his door. Unkempt and undone. A little bit frantic. A little bit devastated. His heart wobbles at the expression of relief on the other man’s face.
“Wei Ying, are you alright?” Lan Zhan asks.
He stares at the other man. Observes the way Lan Zhan stares back at him, resolutely. Lan Zhan might look unkempt, but he is still unfairly handsome, like his body doesn’t know how to look anything else. Unlike Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan’s wearing a long-sleeved casual t-shirt and his oldest and rattiest pair of joggers. Cleaning day, he realises with a pang. The T-shirt is something that Wei Ying had bought for him from GAP over the Christmas New Year sales. Baby’s first GAP, he’d said, presenting the t-shirt to Lan Zhan with a flourish, and the man’s pinched expression at the label had cracked him up so much. He grimaces at the memory now.
“Whose Wei Xian?” he asks. Voice wobbling a little bit. He watches Lan Zhan’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Who?” Lan Zhan asks. “Wei Ying, please come in.” he gestures towards his flat.
“I want to know who Wei Xian is.” Wei Ying says, because he can be stubborn too.
“I don’t know who this Wei Xian is, I know a Wei Wuxian,” Lan Zhan snaps, and its uncharacteristic enough to make Wei Ying stumble.
“Come here, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan says after taking a deep breath. Wei Ying goes.
When they’re safely inside Lan Zhan’s flat, the other man turns to him, “Whose Wei Xian?”
Wei Ying gapes at him. What? How dare. “Why are you asking me? He is your boyfriend.” He almost screeches, bringing his hands up to push at Lan Zhan’s chest. Not that it does anything. Lan Zhan being a brick wall and all. Wei Ying would like to state for the record that he is not weak, nor is he small. Smaller than Lan Zhan yes, but not by much. Only by a head. Lan Zhan is just ridiculous.
“Boyfriend?” Lan Zhan says, expression clamming up until his face is a blank canvas.
The sight of his dead-eyed expression makes Wei Ying oddly nervous. He knows that the expression means that Lan Zhan is either extremely angry or actually upset. But how dare he get angry with Wei Ying though? He’s the one who should be angry. He feels like sputtering in rage. But in a distant corner of his brain, there is a tiny Wei Ying who is gesturing at him in utter exasperation. There is also hope. A tiny smidgen of it.
“You boyfriend, Wei Xian.” He says, taking a step away from the other man.
“My boyfriend, Wei Xian.” Lan Zhan parrots back, taking a step forward.
“Yes, he is from the Engineering Department.” Wei Ying informs him, feeling sillier and sillier.
Lan Zhan stares him dead in the eyes for what feels like an hour, before raising a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. He sounds like he is actually cursing Wei Ying’s obliviousness, and his own stupidity.
“Lan Zhan, who is Wei Xian?” He asks, a tiny smidgen of hope unfurling in his chest.
He is feeling a bit stupid now. A little bit silly. So, maybe he overreacted. He shouldn’t have told Lan Zhan that he hates him. Shouldn’t have sworn at Lan Zhan. But he needs Lan Zhan to be very clear with him. Like crystal clear.
Lan Zhan on the other hand, doesn’t look like he wants to be cooperative at all. “I’ve heard that he is an undergrad twink from the Engineering Department who is my boyfriend.” He tells Wei Ying pleasantly. Like a raging bitch. The Gall.
“Lan Zhan.” He whines. “Lan Zhan, who is Wei Xian?”
Lan Zhan, being a bitch, pointedly ignores him and starts to tidy up. Literally takes out his dusting rug and starts dusting the photo frames while ignoring Wei Ying and his whining and his pouting. Wei Ying is distraught. He can’t believe Lan Zhan is being so mean. Wei Ying’s been so sad. He’d cried.
“Lan Zhan, you can’t ignore me. You made me cry. I cried, Lan Zhan. Look at my face. Look, Lan Zhan.” He ducks around Lan Zhan’s body to try and make him look at Wei Ying and blushes the minute he does.
Lan Zhan usually goes soft and fond when Wei Ying blushes. Gets all sweet and indulgent and lets Wei Ying crawl all over him until Wei Ying shyly crawls off. There is none of that now.
“You mean, you made yourself cry without clarifying any information from the source.”
Okay. Put like that, it sounds bad. Makes Wei Ying sound very entitled, and bratty and stupid. “But I am stupid, Lan Zhan. You know I am stupid.” He whines desperately, trying to keep Lan Zhan in place.
He doesn’t stay in place. Moves away from Wei Ying to start dusting the shelves. “Lan Zhan pay attention to me. I am trying to have a conversation with you.” He whines.
“Perhaps you can tell me that you hate me via a text since I am ignoring you.” Lan Zhan tells him in a moderate voice. The petty bitch.
“I’m sorry. I might have overreacted slightly,” Wei Ying tells him, ducking around Lan Zhan so he is between the shelf and the other man’s body. Which doesn’t help, given his perpetual state of horniness around Lan Zhan. And his newfound knowledge about the other man. And to make matters worse, the man looks delicious. The joggers, old and ratty they may be, look fantastic encasing Lan Zhan’s powerful thighs. “Dylan said that you told him that you have a boyfriend, so you won’t sleep with him.”
He feels like crowing in success when Lan Zhan’s eyebrows furrow. At last, an Expression!
“Who is Dylan?” Lan Zhan asks him.
Wei Ying gapes at him. Cause wow. “East Asian, short, is in the Engineering Department, long hair? Wears glasses? You had sex with him once? Fucked him standing up the first time around?”
Lan Zhan’s eyebrows are almost by his hairline by the time Wei Ying is finished.
“He said that your total body workout is no joke,” he says in a small strangled voice because Lan Zhan is going blank again, indicating rage. Which is hot enough to melt Wei Ying’s brain cells. Wei Ying’s long come to terms with the fact that his dick is stupidly slutty for Lan Zhan’s angry face. “He also said that your stamina is no joke.”
Lan Zhan is back to staring him dead in the eyes, with no expression on his face. Meaning he is pissed.
“He said that you ruined him for anyone else?” Wei Ying’s man enough to admit to himself that he is slightly terrified of this Lan Zhan, also his dick is very much onboard with the scenario which is making the situation a bit confusing. “Why did you ruin him, Lan Zhan?”
Why did you ruin him and not me? is what he meant to ask.
Lan Zhan looks away from his face to take a deep calming breath. Is Wei Ying that annoying? He feels a bit small, and silly. Very silly. So, he shouldn’t have made the assumptions. He doesn’t know what to think. Can’t Lan Zhan just come out and tell him. Be frank, Lan Zhan. Use your words. This Wei Ying is stupid.
“Ask me, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan tells him tiredly. After putting the rug down on the shelf, somewhere behind Wei Ying. He pulls Wei Ying in until he is braced against Lan Zhan’s chest. Lan Zhan’s arms go around his waist like he wants to keep Wei Ying in place. Wei Ying is all for it. He would like to stay with Lan Zhan forever.
“Was Dylan talking about me?” he asks in a tiny voice, fiddling with a tiny knot on the fabric of Lan Zhan’s t-shirt.
“What did Dylan say, exactly?” Lan Zhan asks him. Shuffling back towards the sofa with Wei Ying still in his arms.
Wei Ying doesn’t want to answer him now that he is in Lan Zhan’s arms. Doesn’t want to talk more and ruin things. At the same time, he doesn’t want to let things fester. But hasn’t he already said everything. Has Lan Zhan answered him? His memory is honestly a sieve.
“Am I your boyfriend?” he asks, concentrating on picking at the knot until Lan Zhan grabs hold of his hand.
“Wei Ying,” he says, sounding almost fed up.
They sit down on the sofa. Well Lan Zhan sits down on the sofa and pulls him onto his lap, so that Wei Ying is straddling him. He has never straddled Lan Zhan before, he thinks half hysterically, panicking when his dick gives a mighty twitch. What does he do if his dick misbehaves. He’s made peace with the fact that Lan Zhan puts him in a state of perpetual horniness. But he hasn’t exactly shared the news with Lan Zhan yet. What does he even say?
Hey, Lan Zhan, you make my dick hard, take responsibility?
He almost scrambles off when his dick gives another stubborn twitch. But Lan Zhan grabs him around his waist and pins him in place. It’s a dizzying thought. His waist is tiny, he’s intimately aware of that, but Lan Zhan’s hands are still very big. Large, remarks the horny gremlin in his head. He closes his eyes to try and regulate the blood away from his private parts, to no avail. Like he said, his dick is a slut for Lan Zhan.
“Lan Zhan, answer me.” He says, voice coming from a far-off place.
“Yes.” Lan Zhan snaps. Sounding impatient. Which only succeeds in pissing Wei Ying off.
“Yes? What do you mean yes? How was I supposed to know that? You didn’t say anything. You just behaved like yourself and I was supposed to what? Just magically assume that we've been dating all this time?”
Lan Zhan stares at him. Lips pursed in a way indicating a lack of patience with Wei Ying. Which is totally unfair and uncalled for, and Lan Zhan has no right to be impatient with Wei Ying when he has been equally stupid. Wei Ying huffs out a sigh petulantly and pouts at the other man. Lan Zhan is so fucking stupid, he thinks petulantly.
In hindsight, he understands that he probably should have clarified their status a long time ago. Asked Lan Zhan. But then Lan Zhan could have asked him too. But then, the gravity of their situation hits him. Like a fucking bullet train.
“Please tell me we haven’t been dating all this time?”
Lan Zhan just huffs out a petulant sigh.
“Don’t you sigh at me, if we've been dating, why haven’t you kissed me yet?” he snaps at the other man. The sheer Waste. He almost howls in anger. “You’re meaning to tell me that you have been secretly dating me without telling me, and here I am in a perpetual state of horniness trying to hide my erections from you, when you could have been shagging me, like all over the place, but because we’re both too dumb, we have just been pining?”
He spits out ‘pining’ like a curse word. Because that is what it is.
“We have wasted so much time. I am horrified. Look at me, Lan Zhan, this is my horrified face. We could have been making out everywhere.” He would have continued to gripe at the other man, had Lan Zhan not yanked him into a kiss – rather unceremoniously.
Lan Zhan is mean. He realises giddily. So mean. His mouth is rough, and mean and fierce. He forces his tongue into Wei Ying’s mouth without so much as a by your leave, forcing Wei Ying to take it. To suck on it. And Wei Ying is more than happy to suck on Lan Zhan’s tongue. He sighs into the kiss, and moans happily, sucking on Lan Zhan’s tongue. Making it sloppy. Grips the fabric of Lan Zhan’s shirt to pull him even closer. Frames Lan Zhan’s face with his hands, and sucks on his lower lips playfully, squirming on his laps. Luxuriates against the firmness of the other man’s body. Grinds his dick against his firm abdomen almost unconsciously. Wiggles his butt into Lan Zhan’s hands, begging him to grab him by the cheeks. Squeeze them. Spank them. Make them jiggle.
Lan Zhan gets one massive hand around the back of his neck, tightens his grip and tilts Wei Ying’s face back with a thumb underneath his chin. Rubs the thumb against his swollen fleshy lower lip, before pushing his thumb into Wei Ying’s mouth. It makes his pleasure centres light up like a Christmas tree, like fireworks. Makes his eyelashes flutter against his flushed cheeks, makes him moan low and hoarse, before he lowers his head to take more of Lan Zhan’s thumb into his mouth, sucking on it, tonguing the calluses and driving himself higher and higher with want.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan murmurs, and the breathless sound of his name makes him blink his eyes open, lazily, to peer up at the man.
Lan Zhan looks almost deranged with want. And the sight makes Wei Ying tremble and moan like a wanton slut. Lan Zhan pulls him in again, kisses him deep, and filthy and languid. Dirty with tongue, and so much spit, and he cries out when Lan Zhan nips at his lower lip. Lan Zhan, he realises giddily, kisses with his entire body, gets one hand into Wei Yings hair and yanks his head back until he is crying out at the pressure. The pain sparks through his blood making his body sing. It makes his dick wetter, makes everything tighten up, until he feels like a livewire on the cusp of exploding.
Lan Zhan gets his teeth into his jaw, bites down on his neck until he reaches the spot where Wei Ying’s neck connects to his shoulder and bites down hard enough to make him bleed. Lan Zhan’s unrestrained lust for him thrills him. Makes him cry out. He trembles and squirms, ruts his leaking dick into Lan Zhan’s clothed abs without any finesse. Cries out when Lan Zhan grips him harder by his hair and wrenches his hair back. Lan Zhan keeps mouthing at the spot, keeps tonguing it, sucking on it until Wei Ying is sure he’ll come from the overwhelming sensations zinging through his nerves. He feels like his entire body is on fire. He feels like his dick is connected to wherever Lan Zhan mouths at. Feels every suck, every lick.
Wei Ying claws at Lan Zhan’s chest, gets a hand into Lan Zhan’s hair, yanks his head away from his neck and bites at Lan Zhan’s mouth, until Lan Zhan pushes his tongue back into Wei Ying’s mouth. He licks into every crevice, sucks on Wei Ying’s tongue, biting at the flesh, until Wei Ying feels ruined, feels overwhelmed, feels ready to come from being tongue-fucked. He paws at Lan Zhan’s jaw with trembling desperate hands, tenderly rubs his thumbs against the other man’s cheeks, gets his hands around Lan Zhan’s neck and cups it, rubs his hands against the wide expanse of his shoulders, trembles at the strength and breadth of the man underneath him. He’d happily let Lan Zhan break him. Fuck him into ruins.
It shouldn’t be possible, but the kiss grows harder, wilder, more feral and Lan Zhan in a bid to control Wei Ying’s squirming body clamps one hand down on his ass. Fingers digging into the flesh of one cheek cruelly until Wei Ying has no choice but to cry out and come.
“Fuck.” He mumbles into Lan Zhan’s shoulders, trembling from the force of his orgasm, shivering at the mess in his sweats. He can feel Lan Zhan’s dick, hard and straining against the fabric of his joggers. He almost twitches, would have squirmed if Lan Zhan’s hands hadn’t clamped down on his waist. Stilling him. Until he has no choice but to remain motionless on Lan Zhan’s lap. Straddling Lan Zhan’s very hard dick.
“Don’t you want to come, Lan Zhan?” He mumbles into Lan Zhan’s neck, making his boyfriend twitch. He smirks. He cups the man’s cheeks. Brushes gentle kisses against them, his nose, his fluttering eyelids. Twines his arms the man’s shoulders before leaning into whisper against his ears. “Lan Zhan, Zhan-Zhan, Zhan-ge, Gege-”
He cries out when his head is abruptly yanked away from Lan Zhan’s face. “Gege-” he whines. Trying to squirm on Lan Zhan’s lap, on his dick. “Gege, I want your cock.” He pouts in the other man’s direction.
“Wei Ying will have it.” Lan Zhan murmurs distractedly, eyes tracing Wei Ying’s face hungrily. The words coupled with Lan Zhan’s hungry eyes makes him flush even harder. Until he’s sure his face is an unattractive shade of boiled lobster red. He can feel the heat spreading from his cheeks down to his neck, to his chest.
“Fuck.” Wei Ying says, softly, but with feeling.
They stare at each other, tracing the others’ features slowly. Eagerly. Wei Ying can feel himself hardening again. Body reacting to the greed in Lan Zhan’s eyes. The lust in them driving his own into an upward spiral once more, until he is dizzy with it.
“Lan Zhan,” he whispers, when he can’t take it anymore.
“Is it true that you have tattoos?”
Lan Zhan stares at him for a moment, surprised and bit amused, before raising an inquisitive eyebrow at him. He looks mischievous, like he wants to tease Wei Ying gently. Wei Ying is sure he won’t survive Lan Zhan’s version of teasing without combusting on the spot. He’ll probably come the moment Lan Zhan opens his mouth.
“Mn.” the man murmurs pleasantly. Rubbing gentle circles on Wei Ying’s side, probably to soothe him, but it only makes him burn hotter.
“What does the mn mean exactly? Is that a yes, Wei Ying, I have tattoos. Or no Wei Ying, I am not a hooligan?” he asks, frowning at the amused looking man. “Wait, you’re not disagreeing with me, does that mean you have tattoos? You have tattoos? Lan Zhan, how could you have tattoos and not tell me? Do you have tattoos, as in plural tattoos? Where? How many? You keeping so many secrets from me. How could you? Look at me, Lan Zhan, your boyfriend is distraught. A-ying demands to see them.”
Lan Zhan, curse the man, is smiling. A small devastating quirk to his lips. His eyes are soft and fond and utterly amused. He looks so handsome that Wei Ying is surprised he hasn’t had a coronary yet. His boyfriend is overwhelming. Drives him to incoherence. Truly. He is shocked at Mother Nature’s gall.
“See them?” Lan Zhan murmurs, palming both sides of Wei Ying’s hips, before rubbing a gentle hand up and down Wei Ying’s back. Lan Zhan had been so cold and aloof in their childhood. Had hated it, when people tried to touch him. Had snapped at Wei Ying countless times, brushed him off coldly whenever Wei Ying tried to hug him. Looking at Lan Zhan now, one wouldn’t think him averse to touch. He luxuriates in Lan Zhan’s arms, almost trilling in pleasure.
“Yes, your tattoos. I wanna see your tattoos, and your piercings. You have more piercings, don’t you?” he asks quietly, rubbing a palm against Lan Zhan’s abs.
Lan Zhan quirks an amused eyebrow, tilts his head to the side and asks almost mischievously, “All of them?”
Wei Ying feels like he blacks out for a minute or two at what sounds like a confirmation of his dirtiest dreams, because what does that even mean? He digs his fingers into Lan Zhan’s abdomen to centre himself. He feels overwhelmed by his imagination. The shock of it leaves him pliant, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. He feels like his world has been turned upside down.
Cause, between the two of them, Wei Ying is the rebellious one, the hooligan in goth clothing. The one with the painted-on jeans showcasing his butt and long legs, the one with the over-sized jumpers designed to fall off one shoulder. He is the one with the chokers and the eyeliner and the lip tints. He is the one who looks like he rolled off his bed after a rumbustious night out. He is supposed to be the sexy, rebellious bad boy. Not Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is supposed to be the good boy. The strait-laced virgin that Wei Ying was supposed to corrupt. That Lan Zhan is not, is fucking with his mind in ways Wei Ying doesn’t know how to deal with.
Instead, it turns out that Lan Zhan has had sex on multiple occasions (possibly more than Wei Ying). Turns out, he fucks people so good they’re ruined for others. They come back for more despite the threat of being turned down. And Wei Ying doesn’t know how to deal with that.
But Wei Ying is nothing if not brazen. Wei Ying loves to chew on more than he can swallow. Wei Ying has done away with his gag reflex to chew on more than he can swallow. Besides, he’s discovered that he gets off on choking on dick.
He gathers the tatters of his concentration to himself, and rolls his shoulders back in challenge, before leaning towards Lan Zhan with a smirk quirking his lips. Lan Zhan’s transfixed expression mollifies him, at least. He bites at Lan Zhan’s lips in response and whispers, “Yes, all of them, Lan Zhan.”
The shiver that quacks through Lan Zhan’s frame makes him giggle. That he can pull such a reaction from Lan Zhan is gratifying. It leaves him buzzed, like he’s drunk on champagne bubbles. He brushes a fond kiss against Lan Zhan’s nose.
“Gege-” he whispers, just to be a shit, and laughs when Lan Zhan’s hips twitch up, “Can I see your tattoos please?”
“May I?” Lan Zhan husks back, drawing an answering shiver from Wei Ying. It makes him almost scowl. But before he can do anything, Lan Zhan his him by his chin, thumb and index fingers digging into the bone lightly for now, but with such promise that it makes Wei Ying’s dick leak. “Use your words properly, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan admonishes him gently, shaking his face a little, like he is an unruly cub. The admonishment and the subsequent actions draw a tiny moan from Wei Ying. Makes him pliant and docile.
“May I see your tattoos, gege?” he asks, voice breathy and hoarse.
It’s gratifying to see Lan Zhan’s pupil’s dilate in response to his request, until all that is left of his golden irises are a thin ring. To see the flush staining his ears. The bob of his Adam’s apple. The hitch in his breathing. They are so gone for each other that it is slightly embarrassing. He is sure they are going to be that obnoxious couple that everyone hates to be around. He can’t wait.
“Get up, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan whispers, voice hoarse and low. Wei Ying’s slutty dick twitches in response. He scrambles off of Lan Zhan until he is sprawled on the sofa. And his breath hitches in anticipation when Lan Zhan gets up. And yelps when Lan Zhan yanks him up alongside him.
He doesn’t know how they get into the bedroom. Wei Ying’s a bit dazed from the manhandling, is pretty sure Lan Zhan half carried him. He reverently brushes the tip of his fingers against Lan Zhan’s biceps, and moans quietly at the firmness of the muscles underneath the soft cotton.
“Wei Ying, get on the bed.” Lan Zhan says once he’s closed the door.
“No, I think I’m good.” he says, leaning against the closed door, smiling coyly. Very carefully not thinking about why he wants to stay standing. Not thinking about everything Dylan had said to his friends.
Lan Zhan being Lan Zhan, sees right through his nonchalance and huffs out an endeared laugh before walking up to Wei Ying. He pulls his t-shirt off calmly, enticing Wei Ying with the slow reveal of smooth lines of pale skin over firm muscles. He laughs – heart soft and endeared, when instead of discarding the shirt onto the floor (Like Wei Ying would have), Lan Zhan folds it away carefully and places it on the counter next to the door.
His breath catches when Lan Zhan straightens up. His eyes skims over the tattoo on Lan Zhan’s left arm and the tattoo partially visible on his hips before focusing on the tattoo on Lan Zhan’s left pectoral – done in a reddish-brown colour; identifies it as the motif he’d drawn for Lan Zhan during their fifth form days in their D&T classes. The implications behind the tattoo – Lan Zhan’s regard for Wei Ying, which they can now trace back to their childhood, makes him go wide-eyed and shy. He can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks from the intensity of the blush. He looks up into Lan Zhan’s eyes, and moans softly, and breathlessly, at the hunger he sees in them – barely kept in check. Lan Zhan looks like he’s a whisper away from losing control. It prompts Wei Ying to reach forward and tug on the joggers lightly.
“Off.” He whispers eagerly.
He watches reverently as Lan Zhan pulls them down. Chuckles, when Lan Zhan takes the time to fold them away with the t-shirt. And then the reality hits him.
Lan Zhan is so beautiful that Wei Ying feels a bit light-headed at the sight of him. He reaches out – as if in a trance, to trace the motif first, lovingly; drawing a small moan from the other man. He then guides the tip of his fingers to the beautifully sculpted left arm, to trace the blue bands tattooed around it. And then raises his other hand to brush a light finger against Lan Zhan’s right nipple and the barbell through it. They both expel a breath and a moan at the sensation. He sees the tremble in Lan Zhan’s fingers and sighs out a breath in admiration of the man’s control. Lan Zhan’s a true MVP. He then shivers his fingers lower, traces the partially uncovered gentians on Lan Zhan’s right hip and feels his mouth go dry at the bulge straining in the boxers. His nipples tighten up in sympathy.
He hooks his fingers into the side of the boxers and pulls on the elastic a little bit to try and see the gentians better but is more rivetted by the sight of Lan Zhan’s twitching cock. He is so captivated; that it startles him when Lan Zhan raises both of his arms to brace himself against the door, bracketing Wei Ying in almost unconsciously. He leans his forehead against Wei Ying’s, so they’re both staring down at Lan Zhan’s dick and the barbell nestled into the tip of it.
Wei Ying lets out a breathless laugh, because the idea of Lan Zhan having a piercing there is honestly so shocking. He feels mindless with want. He unconsciously wets his dry lips, and whimpers softly when Lan Zhan’s dick gives a little twitch. It’s leaking precum steadily, he notes; and he wants to put it in his mouth so badly that he is salivating. He wants to suck on the tip, trace the barbell with his tongue, and stuff it down his throat, until he is choking on the girth. The momentous need leaves him feeling feverish. He hears Lan Zhan groan, but he is too focused on not dying at the sight of Lan Zhan’s perfect dick to look at him.
He feels nervous, shy and so fucking horny that he can’t see straight, and the entire amalgamation of feelings drowning his common sense makes him feel very tentative. “May I touch it?” he asks, very politely. Lan Zhan’s dick gives a very pointed twitch before leaking even more precum. Wei Ying wants it in his mouth like yesterday.
“Touch what?” Lan Zhan asks him, because he is a pushy bastard apparently.
Wei Ying shoots him an impatient look before shutting his mouth at the expression on Lan Zhan’s face. Feral, hungry, predatory, he looks like he is going to eat Wei Ying alive, take him apart until Wei Ying is a mindless mass of need, want, have. He can get behind that.
“Your dick, may I touch your dick?” He says, then adds, “Please?” because he knows Lan Zhan likes it when he is polite.
He can tell Lan Zhan is surprised when he yanks the man’s boxers down rather brusquely. But his patience has run out. He wants dick. And he wants it now. But he still blushes when Lan Zhan breathes out an endeared chuckle at his expense. It draws a laugh out of Wei Ying as well. And they smile at each other, almost helplessly. It makes Wei Ying tear up when he realises that Lan Zhan looks fond. Always looks fond and happy with Wei Ying’s existence, barring extenuating circumstances; when Wei Ying’s stupid reaches catastrophic levels. He really doesn’t deserve Lan Zhan.
He touches the tip of Lan Zhan’s dick, swipes the leaking precum off, and then rubs a thumb softly against the piercing. Lan Zhan’s hips buck almost violently, and his dick spurts out more precum, and the sight pulls an uninhibited moan from Wei Ying; affected to the point of being lightheaded. He can’t breathe, he finds. Wei Ying looks up to check if it is okay and freezes when he finds Lan Zhan staring at him – eyes hooded, the gold of his irises almost non-existent. The intensity in his eyes makes Wei Ying whimper and that’s the breaking point.
Lan Zhan grabs his face with one hand and tilts his head back and kisses him. Tender and closed mouth at first, all the forcefulness held back by a fraying thread. But the intensity is apparent, and it makes Wei Ying moan almost helplessly. It’s Wei Ying who opens his mouth against Lan Zhan’s. Wei Ying who licks at the seams of Lan Zhan’s lips – kittenish and sweet, and so gentle. It makes Lan Zhan honest-to-God growl, before he forces Wei Ying’s mouth open wider. Grips his jaw with one forceful hand, pressing bruises against his skin. Presses against the bone to keep Wei Ying’s mouth open and fucks his tongue in. Curls the other hand against the back of Wei Ying’s head, still tender in his passion, but slowly losing control. It makes Wei Ying shiver with anticipation, because while he loves the tenderness, loves being cared for, he wants to be rawed even more. He starts babbling.
“Lan Zhan, I want your cock. You’re so thick, so big, I want it. I want to choke on it. I want you to gag me with it. You know I love being full.”
Lan Zhan groans into his jaw.
“Lan Zhan, please. I want your cock in me, just fuck it all in and fuck me until I come. You won’t even have to prepare me. I’ve been fucking myself on toys thinking about you. Be a good boy Lan Zhan. Fuck me until I swell up with your cum.”
He cries out when Lan Zhan rips his t-shirt off of him. And moans in anticipation when his sweatpants are yanked down. He's a mess. It’s all so abrupt and thrilling. Wei Ying can’t wait. He’s yanked around and shoved face first into the door. And he’s a bit dazed from the manhandling that he doesn’t fully realise what Lan Zhan intends to do. Goes abruptly still when Lan Zhan presses his face into the flesh of Wei Ying’s ass, a brief kiss to each cheek before he forces them apart and fucks his tongue in. He eats Wei Ying out like Wei Ying is his favourite dessert. Like he cannot get enough of Wei Ying’s hole. Lan Zhan pushes his thumbs in, forces his asshole to give, to open wider, and pushes his tongue in even further and sucks, and bites and licks until Wei Ying is a sobbing mess against the door. He can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs, into his brain to form a thought. It’s like all of his nerve endings are live and connected to the rim of his asshole and his pleasure centres are being overloaded. He trembles at every suck, at every lick, can’t help the way his hips grind back into Lan Zhan’s face. Can’t help wiggling his butt out as if to attract more. As if he’s not getting enough from Lan Zhan. Can’t help moaning and crying out, until he is sure Lan Zhan’s neighbours can hear him through the closed doors. It makes the pleasure twist even higher. His hole is so relaxed that he feels it when Lan Zhan forces even more of his tongue in. Can feel the saliva dripping out of his hole, down his crevice and his balls. Shivers at the nastiness of it. Is giddy with all the sensations. Lan Zhan groans when he wiggles his butt out further, the vibrations from the sound sending his mind into the stratosphere of mind-numbing pleasure. He thinks he is drooling; he can’t close his mouth, but he can’t get a breath in edgewise. He thinks he is going to come; he needs to come. Tells Lan Zhan as much and almost screams when Lan Zhan presses two of fingers in alongside his tongue and presses against the shivery spot that makes his mind go blank. He comes.
He is a shivering over-sensitised mess by end of it, twitches away from Lan Zhan when the man brushes his lips against the fat of Wei Ying’s butt. Cries out when Lan Zhan digs his teeth in and worries at the flesh. Scrambles at the door, scratches a few gouges into the wood at the overwhelming sensations of Lan Zhan sucking bruises into the flesh of Wei Ying’s ass.
“Enough.” Wei Ying cries out, knees buckling after an unbearable moment. Falling into Lan Zhan’s arms and trembling between the sturdy frame of Lan Zhan’s body and the door. “I think you’ve broken me, Lan Zhan. You break it, you buy it, that’s the rules. I didn’t make the rules. You’ve got to keep me now, I think you’ve broken my brain, how am I gonna survive on my own without a brain? How could you do this to me, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn. Will keep Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan tells him, cradling him against his chest. The words making him blush. Lan Zhan is so embarrassing. Where does he get off talking like that? What gives him the right?
He shivers when Lan Zhan brushes a tender kiss against his forehead. Keeps shivering through the kisses Lan Zhan presses to his face. First his forehead, then his eyes, both his cheeks, his nose, his chin, his jaws, and finally a tender kiss against his lips.
“Fuck, Lan Zhan.” He moans when the other man’s fingers dig into his sides and the fat of his thighs. He is going to resemble a grape tomorrow. He’s unsurprisingly okay with it. “Take me to bed.”
Lan Zhan doesn’t question him about his own nipple piercing or the belly button piercing while cleaning Wei Ying up. He doesn’t question Wei Ying about it even when he is three fingers in and playing with the rim of Wei Ying’s asshole. Wei Ying tries not to let it get to him. He’ll whine at Lan Zhan later he thinks. Trying not to black out from pleasure when Lan Zhan sucks a bruise into his perineum.
“Lan Zhan, Lan-er-ge, gege, I need you in me.” Wei Ying breathes out. Swallowing a whine, because him whining only seems to make Lan Zhan meaner. Makes him dig his fingers into Wei Ying’s most sensitive spot, over and over again, until he feels like he’s going to lose his mind and break down into a sobbing shivery mess. “Lan Zhan, I want your cock. Give me your cock. I think I’ll die without it. Why won’t you fuck me? Don’t you want to fuck me?”
“I am fucking you.” Lan Zhan’s chuckles into his hips, which is bruised spectacularly thanks to other man’s efforts.
“No-” he pouts indignantly. Lan Zhan is so mean. “I mean with your cock, er-ge.”
“Wei Ying should ask nicely then.” He says, before thrusting a fourth finger in all the way to his last knuckle.
Lan Zhan, he’s fast realising with giddy dread, is a fucking menace. A stuck-up, entitled, obnoxious, pushy, sadistic menace, but God, Wei Ying loves him so much. But he isn’t joking about the dying. Blue balls are a near fatal condition, and people have died from heart conditions related to it. He is sure of it. It’s Science. He knows Science. He is a scientist. And though he is this close to dying from blue balls, he thinks the anticipation is going to kill him faster. His breath catches at the promise of fullness whenever Lan Zhan stuffs him full of fingers. And while he appreciates Lan Zhan’s perfect, thick long fingers, they are not enough for him anymore. He wants to be stuffed full of cock; he wants to hold the girth of Lan Zhan’s perfectly proportioned dick inside him. He wants to luxuriate on it, be pinned on it, squirm on it. Wants to be overwhelmed with the fullness that will surely come with the breadth and length of it. But Lan Zhan is not giving him what he wants. Instead, he is a sloppy mess from too much lube and Lan Zhan’s fingers, fucking him until he is a dehydrated sobbing mess. The sounds from where Lan Zhan is thrusting his four fingers in is ridiculously embarrassing. He is sure that the slorp-slorp sound is going to follow him into his nightmares. He is so turned on that he is going to die. He is going to kill Lan Zhan if he doesn’t elevate the pressure. Why isn’t the man giving him his bloody cock?
“Lan Zhan, I am going to die if you don’t give me your bloody cock. Like honest to God die. Blue balls kill people. Like the heart thingy kills people. It’s science. I know science. I am science.” He babbles at the other man desperately, scrambling at his shoulders and scratching desperate fingers down the other man’s back. Glorious, tattooed back. And hadn’t that been a revelation that almost made him come without a single touch. Lan Zhan chuckles at his misery. Nosing against his collarbones from where is balanced on top of Wei Ying, between his legs like a lazy big cat. He hums delicately in answer when Wei Ying digs his fingers in, before sucking a livid bruise onto the skin of his shoulders. Lan Zhan is going to drive him crazy he thinks; he is so angry he could cry. “Lan Zhan, give me your fucking cock.”
“Wei Ying should ask nicely-” Lan Zhan tells him, pleasantly. Dragging his nails against the rim of Wei Ying’s asshole, in a way that makes him quake, before driving four fingers in hard enough that Wei Ying is pushed bodily up, from the force of it. Lan Zhan smiles down at him benevolently. Eyes completely shot and almost black from pleasure. Face flushed and dopey and so bloody smug that Wei Ying almost sees red.
“You know what, fuck you-” Wei Ying spits through gritted teeth, trying to keep his yowls in. The fingers feel so good. The shockey spot inside him feels raw. He can’t wait to feel Lan Zhan’s cock against it. Can’t wait to feel the sensation of being pounded with it. The thought makes him clench, and makes Lan Zhan’s mouth part in desire, gaze transfixed on Wei Ying’s face. Which has to be unattractively red and blotchy from all the crying.
“Either you give me your cock, or get out so I can fuck my fist in. I can get myself off just fine, thank you.” He snaps at the smug looking bastard, digging his fingers into Lan Zhan’s back mercilessly, with the intention of drawing blood. He hopes he’s causing Lan Zhan pain.
Lan Zhan, the bastard, laughs into his mouth, as if he is endeared by Wei Ying’s anger. Like he thinks Wei Ying is being cute. Wei Ying digs his nails into Lan Zhan’s shoulders in response, and hopes he’s gouges the skin. It makes Lan Zhan stifle another laugh, before he yanks his fingers out so abruptly that it makes Wei Ying cry out at the loss, back bowing into a perfect arch. He fucks his cock in just as abruptly, bottoming out in one go. And Wei Ying feels turned inside out.
He feels overwhelmed in the best way possible. So intimately connected to Lan Zhan that he trembles with the knowledge. He’s also a bit shocked to realise that Lan Zhan has chosen to go bare; not a single barrier between them to get in the way.
The sensation, the warmth of Lan Zhan’s bare cock, the length and girth make his mouth fall open in a near silent scream. His eyes are closed to better appreciate the devastating sensations. His mind is finally quiet. And he is content to lay there and revel in the bliss of the moment. Of being stuffed so full he can feel Lan Zhan’s dick in his throat.
Slowly, his muscles relax one at a time. He feels Lan Zhan brush gentle kisses against his brows, trying to smooth out his frown of concentration. Feels him brush kisses against his closed eyes. It tickles, he almost says. Lan Zhan brushes a kiss against each of his flushed cheeks, against his nose, against his chin, before he finally nudges Wei Ying’s mouth open and licks into it languidly, indulgently. Their tongues tangle in an indolent dance, rubbing and shivering against each other. He suckles on Lan Zhan’s tongue and wishes for a moment, that it is Lan Zhan’s dick. Wishes he could nurse on the tip of it. Worship it. Suck on it and play with the piercing nestled on top. Brush his tongue against the barbell over and over, until he's driven Lan Zhan mad with impatience. He wants to swallow the length down slowly, until it rests in his throat. His thoughts make him squirm, but he is pinned beneath the heavy weight of Lan Zhan’s body. And the cock halfway up his gut doesn’t allow for much movement on his part. But his hole flutters in pleasure around Lan Zhan’s dick, drawing an overwhelmed groan from Lan Zhan’s chest. It pulls an answering moan from Wei Ying.
He blinks his eyes open lazily, smiles sweetly at the dazed looking man on top of him, tells him, “I could get off on just this, gege. Just from your cock. Would you like that? I won’t need anything else, just your dick keeping me open.” he arches his back against Lan Zhan’s chest, moans a little at the friction against his cock, the scrape of Lan Zhan’s piercing inside his channel. “Please hold still okay?” Wei Ying says, bringing a hand up to pat at Lan Zhan’s face. “I’m just going to lay here and indulge myself. It’s so big, gege. I am stuffed so full. I can feel it in my throat.” He shivers, arches and falls back on to the bed. Scratches his fingers down Lan Zhan’s back lightly, trying to contain the overwhelming feelings from being pierced on Lan Zhan’s girthy cock. He’s sure he could come from just this.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan chokes out, sounding pretty dumb with pleasure himself. It makes Wei Ying smile.
He starts slow. Curls his legs around Lan Zhan’s waist and sighs in bliss. Arches his back and rubs his chest against Lan Zhan’s indulgently. Pushes his straining, leaking, wet dick against Lan Zhan’s firm abdomen and almost swallows his tongue at the friction. Traces Lan Zhan’s biceps and broad shoulders with lazy fingers, slowly, dazedly, all the while straining and squirming on Lan Zhan’s dick. He clenches a little bit, just to feel the shape of Lan Zhan’s dick inside him, and moans delicately when the barbell digs in. He can feel it inside him, a different kind of heat, scrapping away at his self-control.
He sighs against Lan Zhan’s lips, licks at Lan Zhan’s parted mouth. Licks inside lazily, brushing his tongue against Lan Zhan’s teeth teasingly. Draws Lan Zhan’s tongue into his mouth and sucks on it, languidly. Moans at the look of dazed pleasure on Lan Zhan’s face; it makes him look a little bit lost. A bit dumb. He shivers, while tracing Lan Zhan’s muscles, the rigid length of Lan Zhan’s back, the straining muscles of his shoulders and arms, and comes to the realisation that Lan Zhan’s holding himself back, just as Wei Ying had requested.
The realisation, when it hits, makes him laugh drunk on power.
“Lan Zhan, Zhan-Zhan, Lan-er-ge, gege-” he whispers against Lan Zhan’s lips, squirming and clenching on Lan Zhan’s cock. Tightening and relaxing until Wei Ying’s almost ready to come from simply being stuffed full of Lan Zhan’s girth. “I want you to ruin me, ruin me for anyone else, so I don’t think about anything but your cock fucking me, keeping me full. I would like your come, please. Be a good boy and fill me up, sweetheart.” Wei Ying babbles contently.
Wei Ying’s has enough brain cells to feel smug about the shiver that runs up and down Lan Zhan’s frame, before Lan Zhan gets one massive paw around his thighs. Lan Zhan pushes them up until he’s got Wei Ying’s legs slung over his shoulders, until he’s got Wei Ying practically folded in half and overwhelmed by the position; it makes his hole flutter and gape even more around Lan Zhan’s cock.
“Wei Ying should never have to say please or thank you.” Lan Zhan tells him, contradicting his past demands. Wei Ying’s going to hold him to it. He opens his mouth to say so, when Lan Zhan proceeds to fuck his brain out of his ears. He screams.
“You’re so loud,” Lan Zhan murmurs quietly, fucking him like a machine. “So open.” It makes Wei Ying squirm and whine in pleasure, coming to the awful realisation that Lan Zhan should never be allowed to talk while fucking him. It does awful things to his brain and his nerve endings. He feels himself tighten up the more Lan Zhan talks.
“You get so wet.” Lan Zhan remarks almost casually, “How do you get so wet, baby?” Lan Zhan should never be allowed to call him baby. It should be made illegal, he thinks half hysterically, after his brain comes back online. He bites his lips to stop the sounds, because whining only seems to encourage Lan Zhan’s bad behaviour.
“No, don’t.” Lan Zhan tells him, fingering his mouth open with a thumb. “I like that Wei Ying is loud.” He says, for devastating effect. He hates Lan Zhan so much. He bites his lower lip stubbornly, trying to keep the noises in. Lan Zhan slows his hips in response, as if to punish Wei Ying for his stubbornness. Gyrates against Wei Ying’s hole slowly, tenderly pushing all the way in and holding himself still for a moment before drawing back out almost all the way. Doing it again and again, until Wei Ying feels like he is about to lose his mind.
He rubs a thumb against Wei Ying’s lips, against his teeth to try and make him let go of his lower lip. Smiles at Wei Ying tenderly, when he blinks his glazed eyes open. Thumbs away a tear that falls from Wei Ying’s eyes. “Let it out.” Lan Zhan murmurs sweetly into Wei Ying’s mouth. Brushing a kiss against Wei Ying’s cheeks. “Let me hear you, baby. I like hearing you. I like that you are loud, I like that you are unashamed. I like that you get so wet. I like to see the effect I have on you.” And Wei Ying can’t take it, can’t bear it. He comes with his mouth wide open, cry stifled by Lan Zhan plunging his tongue into Wei Ying’s open mouth. Fucking him with it the way his cock is battering away at his hole. Lan Zhan continues to fuck him, hips beating a near-impossible rhythm against the fat of Wei Ying’s ass. The smack of it and the squelching sounds so loud in the room, but drowned by Wei Ying’s piercing and overwhelmed cries. He fucks Wei Ying through an orgasm, into another one, until Wei Ying is over-sensitive and sobbing against Lan Zhan’s cheeks. Until he is begging Lan Zhan to come.
“Please,” Wei Ying says, messy and docile, colour high on his cheeks. “Please come in me-” His lips are swollen from Lan Zhan’s tender attentions, neck bruised purple from Lan Zhan’s mouth. Lan Zhan’s working another bruise into Wei Ying’s shoulders and the pain and pleasure of it is twisting him higher and higher, until he is sure he will come again, and he can’t take it. His cock will fall off if he comes anymore. His cock feels raw. His hole feels raw and tender and hot to touch, and he thinks he is going to come. He is going to come.
“Lan Zhan.” He sobs.
Lan Zhan mouths at Wei Ying’s skin, biting tender bruises into the flushed expanse of his swan-like neck. Sucks more flesh into his mouth, gets his teeth in, laves at it and sucks, before raising his head to stare at Wei Ying’s face. “I love your chokers,” Lan Zhan tells him, nosing against Wei Ying’s cheeks, “They’ve driven me to distraction more times than I can count.” He says huffing out a gravelly laugh. He returns back to Wei Ying’s neck. Hands smoothing against Wei Ying’s side. Getting his big hands on Wei Ying’s butt. Squeezing the soft cheeks, digging his fingers into the fat cruelly before increasing the speed of his thrusts. It’s like being fucked by a battering ram, Wei Ying thinks, overwhelmed. He throws his head back and almost screams at the feeling of the barbell pounding cruelly into his shivery spot. He brings a hand to his face. Mouths at his own fingers, wholly overcome. His brain cells are mush.
“You should wear your chokers all the time.” Lan Zhan tells him pleasantly.
“Gege should buy me one.” Wei Ying suggests, trying not to tear his hair out, because the pleasure needs to go somewhere. And he doesn’t know what to do with all the feelings wreaking havoc through his body. “Gege should put one on me and fuck me and tell me I am his good boy.”
“I will.” Lan Zhan remarks distractedly, rubbing a thumb against the barbell in Wei Ying’s nipple, shocking him. Oh no. No No. Not now.
“When did you get this done?” Lan Zhan asks casually. Rubbing careless circles around his areola, until his nipples are erect and pained, and almost begging for Lan Zhan’s touch. It seems like all his nerve endings are connected to his dick, and every pinch and pull on his bud keeps sending shockwave after shockwave through his dick. It makes his hole tighten up around Lan Zhan’s dick and his toes curl up at the feeling.
“You’re so sensitive.” Lan Zhan notes, sounding pleased, “I think you could come from having them played.” He bends his head down to take the bud into his mouth. It makes Wei Ying’s back bow into a perfect arch, makes him claw at Lan Zhan’s skin in a bid to pull him off. But Lan Zhan just keeps sucking and tonguing at the piercing and biting at it until he is sure he is going to bleed, until he is so sensitive that he begs. Lan Zhan doesn’t pull off, sucks at the bud until he comes from it, the excruciating sensations yanking him into an orgasm unlike anything Wei Ying has ever felt before. He is too sensitive. He feels tears run down the sides of his face. Feels his hole constrict around Lan Zhan’s dick, pulling a groan from the man, the sound vibrating against the metal of the piercing. It makes him scream. Makes him yank on Lan Zhan’s hair. Trying to pull him off. When that doesn’t work, he smacks a hand against Lan Zhan’s shoulders and sobs his way into over-stimulation.
“Please, just stop. Please.” He begs, “Please.”
“You should get the other one pierced too.” Lan Zhan husks, voice low and gravelly. His face is almost slack with pleasure. He looks almost deranged. Dangerous. And Wei Ying, wants him so much. Wants Lan Zhan to keep fucking him. Wants to be ruined by him. Wants to be owned by him.
“You can do it,” Wei Ying sobs out desperately, “You can pierce me wherever you like, you can tattoo me if you like. I pierced my nipple for you, gege. All of this is for you-” And Lan Zhan lets out an unhinged sound, before rising up to his knees. He pulls Wei Ying by his hips until he is balanced on Lan Zhan’s laps. Spreads Wei Ying's legs wide open before fucking into him, hard and fast and cruel. Uncaring of Wei Ying’s own pleasure in that moment. Singularly focused on reaching a peak for himself. Wei Ying’s almost mindless, clawing at wherever he can reach on Lan Zhan’s skin, trying to tattoo his pleasure onto Lan Zhan, when he feels Lan Zhan’s cock swell. His mouth falls open in a silent scream when Lan Zhan pulses hot come inside, spurt after spurt until he feels full and lush and hedonistic. He’s going to leak so much, he thinks dizzily. How are they going to clean up when Wei Ying’s going to be leaking come everywhere? He shivers at the thought, his own cock twitching weakly from it.
“Don’t pull out.” He tells Lan Zhan weakly, pulling at him until the man is draped over Wei Ying, like a sweaty heavy blanket. His hips are starting to hurt, and he is going to feel like one massive bruise the next day. But he couldn't care less.
They stare at each other for a moment before Wei Ying pulls the other man down for a tender kiss. Simply sucking at each other lips. Tongues tracing soft caresses against each other. Exchanging spit lazily. Moaning into each other’s mouths, until they are both breathless once more.
Later when they are clean, Lan Zhan pulls him on top, so Wei Ying is draped over him, limbs askew and lazy. Mind dulled with pleasure, nerves still shockey from his last orgasm. He feels like a particularly spoiled cat.
“I love you.” He mumbles into Lan Zhan’s chest, feeling uncharacteristically shy and emotional. A bit raw from the sex and Lan Zhan’s devotion. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, I think I realised how I felt about you when we were fourteen. It sucked when I had to move away. I was so happy when I saw you again. I am so happy to be with you. I want to spend all my life with you. You’re it for me, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan remains quiet for the longest time, until Wei Ying panics, and raises his head slowly to look into the other man’s face, dreading his reaction despite everything. Despite Lan Zhan’s confession that afternoon.
“You’ve been the one for me since we were children. I have been in love with you since then. I kept all the notes you wrote to me, and all your paintings. I’ve been yours and yours only, and will be for eternity, if you will have me. I love you, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan says, bringing a hand up to cup Wei Ying’s cheeks, eyes soft and fond and so full of love that Wei Ying’s finding it hard to breathe. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. With his limbs. He scrambles up to cup Lan Zhan’s face and leans down to press a breathless kiss into the other man’s lips. And laughs his happiness into Lan Zhan’s mouth. He feels dizzy with everything. He feels utterly giddy with love. With happiness.
“Yeah-” He says, smiling into the other man’s lips, “I’m keeping you.” He tells Lan Zhan, prompting a fond chuckle.
Wei Ying breathes Lan Zhan in – sandalwood and musk, cuddles into other man’s frame, and smiles when one of Lan Zhan’s hands drifts down from his waist to palm at his butt lazily; Obsessed, he thinks fuzzily, before drifting off to sleep.