Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Then

Lan Zhan hadn't expected much walking into the dive bar on 6th street. He was more intent on escaping the noise of the street than expecting solace in what seemed to be the world's foremost insult to jazz. Still, his eye twitched when he saw the sign for open mic night, and he'd considered leaving before the next act changed.

The awful lighting was only outdone by the atrocious sound design and the bar was only half filled. Most of the patrons swayed not in rhythm but from the effects of a few too many drinks. He was one foot off the barstool and about to head to the door when he saw him.

A pair of green eyes blinked at him, then wrinkled at the edges with the slow spread of a grin. The man wasn't his type, nothing he'd ever wanted before, but something about the way he looked at him with a curious hunger resonated in a forgotten space inside his long neglected soul.

Because it reminded him.

He'd been looked at like that before in his youth, by a wild haired boy with an evil grin and had almost forgotten how good it felt. He lifted his eyebrow in invitation and settled back into his seat. Not even five seconds passed before the man walked over with a swagger to his step.

A woman had taken the stage with a voice that was as weak as it was passionate. The worst combination to have, in his opinion. No one cared when she started to sing but because there was music, because there was a beat, several of them nodded along.

Tonight you're mine, completely. You give your love, so sweetly.

"You're not supposed to be here," Green Eyes said, and the way he slid into the seat beside him with ease told Lan Zhan it wasn't his first time. He had an infectious kind of grin and his attention woke something dormant. Lan Zhan liked the feeling of being wanted and it was even better more addictive when given by someone with something to offer.

"But I'm glad you are," he finished, taking his time dragging his eyes up Lan Zhan's body.

"Where am I supposed to be?"

Lan Zhan didn't play coy or even try to withhold the flirtation from his voice. And in return, those green eyes lit up in satisfaction. He savored it. He could have made it harder, could have made the man work for it, but it was approaching last call and both knew they didn't have time for that.

Can I believe the magic of your sighs? Will you still love me tomorrow?

"In the bathroom with your cock down my throat, preferably."

Not even an ounce of hesitation lurked in his voice. He knew what he wanted and he wasn't scared to ask for it. It just so happened to provide what Lan Zhan needed in that moment as well— someone willing to take everything pent up inside of him.

"What about in my bed with my cock up your ass?" he countered, unwilling to stay in the bar any longer than he had to.

"Even better," Green Eyes chuckled. He slammed down a 20 for the drinks they didn't finish. "Name's Adam," he introduced himself, sliding a hand up Lan Zhan's chest.

"Wangji," he replied. Entranced as he was, he never gave his birth name to hookups. He didn't need to hear it in anyone else's voice.

Adam took his dicking like a man. He liked the bruises, and he loved the biting. He didn't hold back, not his screams and not the nails down his spine when Lan Zhan flipped him over to stare into those green eyes as he drilled deep inside him. And for the first time since his youth, it was a new name falling from his lips as he came.

He thought it was a one time thing like all the others before him, but Adam didn't slip out the door the next morning when Lan Zhan showered. He stayed for breakfast and made Lan Zhan laugh as he made a pot of congee. He sucked him off afterward right there at table, making a big deal of how he'd never tasted anything better.

Then he put his number in his phone, and told him he better text him or else he'd haunt him the next three lifetimes. So Lan Zhan did. He had to. Adam was so full of the life Lan Zhan had grown devoid of. He kept wanting to see him one more time.

And one more time. And one more time. They started seeing each other exclusively because Adam stubbornly refused to fuck anyone else— it would simply be a waste, he said.

"You won't either, right gege?" he asked, batting those mesmerizing green eyes at him. And of course Lan Zhan complied. Adam wanted him, and just him.

At long last, he'd found a cure. The obsession he'd harbored since his teenage years could be packed away and he could finally move on. Green eyes settling over the gray in his heart. Surely, it was happiness. Surely, it was end game.

They had their happy moments. They ate brunches with bottomless mimosas and perused the Sunday art festivals with their pinky fingers entwined. When Adam looked at him, it was as if he'd hung the moon. He laughed at the things he said as if they were jokes just like.. well, just like others had done. Nameless others he didn't think about anymore because he'd been cured.

Farmers markets and jazz bars, grocery stores and nightclubs. It was new and exciting. He'd had hookups before and he'd a best friend before. In Adam, he had both. He'd been happy, so overwhelmingly happy that he hadn't looked too closely at the package he'd arrived in. Lan Zhan was willing to gloss over the rough edges.

Even as the edges got rougher.

About six months after they started dating, Adam started filming their lives for his YouTube channel. Lan Zhan never knew about the channel, and Adam was only slightly miffed he had no idea who he was before they met. He teased him about it, being a luddite, an old man, a fuddy duddy. It was an affectionate teasing, and it came drenched in nostalgia.

He said he wanted to share their life by introducing Lan Zhan to his followers. They were official; everyone should know. Lan Zhan didn't disagree though he liked his privacy and enjoyed his low profile. How could he, when this was something he could do for Adam? Apart from sex, the man had asked so little of him.

To his credit, Adam had been brilliant at the game. In a few short months, they had their first viral video. Adam planned an elaborate dinner for the both of them, and while the sentiment was sweet, the food had been completely horrible. Burnt beyond repair horrible. So bad, it had to have taken effort in Lan Zhan's opinion. But he hadn't wanted to discourage his boyfriend, so he tried to eat as much as he could, and when he'd choked the last bite down, he thanked him profusely for the effort.

Adam had recorded the whole thing and uploaded it to his channel for likes and views. The moment tarnished in his hands because it's wasn't sweet and he'd been right— it had taken effort to cook so badly.

In the end, his boyfriend had gotten what he wanted. They love you, Wangji, just like I do. You're amazing. You're wonderful. You're the absolute best boyfriend a guy could hope to have.

And Lan Zhan believed him. He brushed off his feelings and figured he was just being overly sensitive. He'd made his boyfriend happy, wasn't that enough?

Their viewership took off. They both had their roles to play: Lan Zhan that of the supportive boyfriend and Adam of the bumbling innocent naive young fool, just wanting to make his spouse happy. It was a recipe their fans loved, and eventually Lan Zhan found peace with it. Adam was happy, and if Adam was happy everything would be okay.

The brand deals Adam thirsted after came. The money went from trickling in to pouring, so much that neither had to work— though Lan Zhan still did. Their relationship, his first real realtionship, became a business. Of course it bothered him, but Adam dealt with all the details. From Lan Zhan's perspective, he just had to appear in some videos and some livestreams, and Adam would handle the rest.

They moved into a nice, downtown apartment with a gorgeous view of the city. He got his own piano, his own studio. He had room to compose again. It was nice.

Right up until it wasn't.

Fame crept in. It slipped under the doors and oozed through the cracks. Adam became obsessed with numbers and stats and view counts and subscribers. Dinner became conversations about ad revenue and sponsored apparel. Everything they did had to be monetized and if something wasn't profitable it simply didn't happen. Every kiss was calculated. Every touch planned out.

And there were cameras everywhere.

Money replaced everything they lost. Even the privacy in their own home was non-existent, as Adam hired a personal assistant who practically lived with them. Wven when the cameras weren't rolling, there were another set of eyes on him. The life he once loved he began to loathe, but he wasn't sure he was ready for the alternative. It meant leaving behind the first serious sexual relationship he'd ever had. It would mean returning to meaningless hookups and an empty apartment.

So he stayed, but he withdrew. The man he'd fallen in love with might still be there but he was hidden behind a paywall now. Lan Zhan had been living in his office anyway, so he moved a bed in and started sleeping there as well. It felt safe. The only place in the apartment where cameras weren't installed. He felt like a caged beast in a zoo, but it was the life he agreed to.

And then one day he came home early, remembering halfway down the block he'd left his cellphone on the charger. He found Adam's assistant balls deep inside him and just stood there speechless. It wasn't attractive, by any means. It was clumsy. Embarrassing. They looked ridiculous. A sweaty mix of limbs and erratic thrusting and it didn't even seem like good sex from the outside.

It only humiliated him more.

Adam begged him to stay. It was Lan Zhan's fault, of course, for withdrawing. Leaving him needy. We haven't had sex in months, what was I supposed to do?

It was over. They both knew it was over. But he promised to stay so Adam could still support himself after. They'd just live on opposite sides of the apartment and Lan Zhan would give him 15 minutes of footage a week. Seeing him so happy after the compromise had gutted him, but it also cured him of whatever delusion he had of them working through it. When January came, they'd break the news to the fans and Lan Zhan would let him have everything. The apartment, the channel, and the life they'd built together.

So when his brother called him early one April morning and begged him to come home for the summer, it wasn't a hard decision to make.

"I need you Wangji. We're down a piano teacher, and I've got a roster full of kids that are going to be heartbroken. Plus, we miss you. It's been years since you've been back and Uncle is getting too old to travel. Just one summer."

His brother gave him a million reasons why, but he hadn't needed any of them. Xichen could have just asked him and he'd have said yes. He wondered that night when he hung up the phone how they'd become so separated. How it got to the point where Xichen felt begging was a necessity.

It wasn't like he wanted to stay away, but it had been hard to make the trip home without enduring the hardship of Adam's complaints. He hated when Lan Zhan traveled, and didn't like to leave the city himself. One postponed trip became another, as Lan Zhan gave into Adam's excuses to avoid an argument.

He never should have placated him to begin with.

"Of course I'll come and help in any capacity you need," he'd assured Xichen. His brother had let out a sigh of relief and thanked him profusely.

Adam had not been so thrilled.

"You're leaving? To go back to Gusu? What the fuck, Wangji?! We have plans. We have sponsorships. We have quotas. You can't just leave all of this on me."

Adam droned on and on about their responsibilities to the public, to the sponsors, to the "fans". It meant something to him. He used to think becoming internet famous had changed him by turning him from the man (he thought) he loved into a fame obsessed zombie that did anything he could for one more "like and follow". He learned the truth. Adam had always been like that, and he'd been too blind to see it.

"I signed nothing. I have no obligation. My brother needs my help and I will be going."

"But Wangji. You promised."

"Any promise I made was voided when you fucked your assistant in our bed," he pointed out, and his soon to be ex looked like he'd been slapped.

"You could have walked away then," Adam said, his voice cold. Tense. "I fucked up, and I'm paying the price. You don't have to shove it in my face to win an argument."

Adam wasn't wrong. He could have walked away, and probably should have. But he loved the apartment. Loved the view of the city and the peace it provided him. He didn't want anything to change. Even as he gradually began to loathe the man he lived with, he still wanted to keep what was left of his life— as pathetic as that made him feel.

"It's only six weeks. I'll send some footage you can edit in."

And that's all it took; Adam was fine again. Chipper. Excited even. Happy to see him go because it had never been about Lan Zhan at all, but what he could get on film. What he could sell on the channel for one more subscriber, one more dollar of ad revenue. That was all he wanted from Lan Zhan, which happened to be all he had left to offer.

Now

It takes him more than a glance to recognize the man standing at baggage claim to be his uncle. The years have changed him. Lan Qiren isn't as tall as he remembers— his posture slumps where he used to stand proudly. His eyes are tired and they don't seem to have the energy to judge him anymore. Silver and gray pepper his hairline and Lan Zhan wonders when he grew this old. Had it really been that long since his last trip to Gusu?

It had only been… six years.

He hadn't counted the years before this moment, swept away in the doldrums of his city life. Now he sees every year in his uncle's countenance and the guilt churns in his stomach. He should have come sooner.

"Wangji, you're alone." His tone isn't one of disappointment. "I worried you might bring along the sack of flour."

He nearly chokes, but manages to recover in time to speak. "Mmh. You probably won't be seeing Adam again, uncle."

Qiren does nothing to mask his satisfaction at the news. "Just as well. Now come along, we shouldn't keep the driver waiting." He pauses to look Lan Zhan over with a keener eye. "Just the one suitcase then?"

"It's only six weeks, uncle." He doesn't expect a response and his uncle doesn't oblige him on as they head out the doors. It's a slower pace than he's used to and he has to restrain his natural stride so that his uncle can take the lead.

The fresh mountain air invades his lungs and it feels like he can breathe again for the first time in years. He drinks it in while his uncle walks to the car, turning slightly to ensure he keeps up. "We don't have all day, Wangji." Lan Qiren mumbles something else under his breath but he can't quite make it out. He seems to be enjoying having something to fuss about, so Lan Zhan lets him.

The ride is smooth and the two men sit side by side. They each have their own windows and their own scenery to pass the time, but Lan Zhan feels himself being studied instead. He notices a slight tremble to his uncle's hand and wonders if he should set his own over it. He decides against it— physical affection had never been the cornerstone of their family.

They talk about very little of substance. His uncle asks no questions about his personal life, and why should he? It's there on the internet for all to see. He knows his family watches the channel; Xichen has admitted as much. It's embarrassing, but there's nothing he can do about it now. Instead, Qiren asks about his hobbies. If he's still composing. If he's got any special plans for the summer.

"Xichen arranged your room how you like it. I assume you'll be staying with us? The accommodations might not be as nice as what you're accustomed to, of course."

"Of course I'll be staying with you, uncle. I've been looking forward to it." It is a small bit of honesty, but it goes a long way to relaxing the lines on his uncle's forehead. He smiles as some of the tension fades from the man's shoulders and realized they're both equally as nervous.

"Then I'll have to trouble my chef for an additional plate at dinner. I assume we'll be feeding you as well," his uncle gruffs, now feeling allowed to be a little cantankerous.

"I would appreciate that."

He stares ahead, but he can still see Qiren's reflection in the glass and the small smile of his own the old man doesn't seem to be able or willing to hold back.

The sense of home overwhelms him as he crosses the threshold to his uncle's house. It's by no means a small house, but far smaller than the sprawling estate he'd spent his youth in. His uncle had walked away from the family shortly after Lan Zhan's mother passed away, preferring to live a modest existence. Not to say he wasn't wealthy, but he channeled the money into the school and the community rather than hoarding it away in real estate. Lan Zhan had always been proud of that choice and never once missed the cold mansion of his earliest years.

His room stayed the same. The sheets have been washed and the surfaces wiped down, the windows opened to allow the room a chance to breathe, but everything else is as it used to be. Old sports equipment leans against the wall, directly underneath shelves containing his trophies. So many of them, across as many different areas. Music, sports, writing. Anything he put his mind to, he excelled. Not because he was naturally gifted, but because he knew it was his uncle's expectation. "Anything worth doing is worth doing well, Wangji," his uncle would always say. "Never start anything you don't plan on seeing through to the end."

There had been only one exception to that rule. Only one thing he'd left incomplete. Paused in time. An unfinished sweater, with a trail of yarn hanging off the end. It had surely unraveled by now, tugged at by the hands of time.

And he sees reminders of that exception even now. There are still empty spaces on the walls where pictures used to be taped, and he knows if he opened the top drawer of his desk he'd find them there, neatly bundled. He doesn't look. He's not here to wade that far into the past, especially with his future so uncertain.

He unpacks and it takes him all of ten minutes. Perhaps he should have bought more, but his needs are simple. If it comes down to it, he'll take a day to go shopping. He hasn't updated his wardrobe in far too long, not seeing the necessity. Adam preferred they wear the same outfits more often than not to make editing easier and it's a habit he'd grown used to.

Three small knocks at the door announce his brother's presence.

"Wangi," he coos, holding his arms out for Lan Zhan collapse into. Their family might not have been affectionate, but his older brother always maintained those rules don't apply to them. He'd never withheld a warm hug or a comforting hand over his, and now Lan Zhan's desperately thankful.

Xichen pats his back a little too hard, but he doesn't complain. It's just nice to be held again in any capacity. It hits him hard how touch starved he's become, and Xichen lets him stay a little longer than he normally would.

His gaze seems knowing when Lan Zhan pulls away.

"You haven't been sleeping, didi."

It's not judgmental, it's full of concern and he looks away guiltily. Sleep has been hard to come by. So much so that at one point he'd resorted to taking pills, but it became too much of a habit and he had to phase it out. Now he just deals with the constant bags under his eyes and a branded eye cream that doesn't hide them.

"You're still with him?" Xichen's tentative when he asks, like he's worried the answer might have changed since he'd broken the news.

"Mmh. Breakup is scheduled for January. I believe it's sponsored by BetterHealth," he remarks, dryly.

Xichen looks over his sparse belongings before turning back with a small frown. "Just 6 more months? Why not just stay here until then? I worry about what you're putting yourself through, didi."

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered it. Many times, actually, staring at the ceiling of his office/bedroom. It was attractive, the thought of going back to his roots to mend his broken heart, like a poorly written Hallmark movie. His eyes flick down to the drawer the photos are stored in and he's reminded why he can't. There are memories to be avoided here, too. Sure, these are faded with time and not as fresh, but the wounds he suffered here somehow cut deeper. He'd been unguarded back then. At least with Adam, he hadn't been naive to the possibility of being hurt.

"I can handle six months, ge," he says with as much politeness as he can muster. "But thank you, I appreciate the offer."

Xichen eyes him, and Lan Zhan wonders what he must see to make that expression. But it's over quickly and he changes the topic smoothly enough. "Come down once you're settled and I'll make some introductions."

He turns to leave, stalling by the door. He doesn't turn back, just simply says, "I'm glad you're back, Wangji."

He's glad too, but it still hurts the way Xichen says it.

A woman (far more beautiful than her fierce stare should allow) stands over the stove, stirring a pot with disinterest and looking at him as if he were a half eaten something the cat had left on her pillow.

"Wen Qing," she offers, without extending either a hand or a bow. He returns his name in kind as if she didn't already know it.

"Wen Qing takes care of Shifu. Cooking, arranging his schedule, maintaining his health. She's been an excellent addition to the home. I honestly don't know what we'd do without her."

She seems happy to hear the praise, but her smile fades quickly when she turns back to Lan Zhan. "I work for your uncle. You, I don't know. Cook for yourself, and try not to leave the kitchen in disarray." Her warning glare frightens him. He gives a worried look at Xichen, but his brother is too busy smiling at her fondly.

He's not opposed to making his own meals, prefers it actually. The stove is big enough for the two of them, and Wen Qing's so tiny their hips never brush. He debates making small talk but decides it's not needed.

She hums to herself, keeping her hands busy and paying him no mind. It's a surprising change of pace from where he's been. He might as well be invisible. It's… almost refreshing to be ignored.

Dinner ends up a low key affair. He's tired after a day of traveling and Qiren seems exhausted as well, so they eat their meals silently. After, Xichen holds the conversation as they sip herbal tea, keeping it flowing between the three of them. He explains the summer program to Lan Zhan, though it doesn't seem to have changed much since his youth.

"We're improving the end of summer showcase. Each teacher will have the usual ensemble, but we're adding a solo performance. You'll get to pick a student from each class to personally mentor," Xichen explains, excitedly.

"That sounds… intensive." He'd been assigned three classes, and fully expected that commitment to take the majority of his time. With the addition of three mentees, he'd be stretched thin.

"It's nothing you can't handle. The other teachers are beyond excited. Perhaps their enthusiasm will rub off on you," Xichen says, smiling a little too broadly for the conversation at hand.

"Are there many new teachers? I don't remember enthusiasm ranking highly among their traits." His uncle scowls at him but he doesn't care. The school was known for propriety and serious nature, as evidenced by its mountain of rules and stern leadership. Xichen is giving a much more relaxed view that conflicts with his memories.

"We've brought in some new blood over the last several years. It's been quite refreshing, wouldn't you say, uncle?"

"Indeed. Quite refreshing."

"Mmh. Well, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to have an early night. Thank you both for a lovely evening." He bows respectfully and steps away, noting how quickly Wen Qing rushes to his uncle's side to help him up. He rather likes her, he thinks, but if she's indicative of the school's new hires, he's not entirely sure what level of enthusiasm awaits him.

He expects to stare at the ceiling a while before sleep takes him. He turns on his side and stares at the window, almost hearing the sharp cracking sound of rocks hitting the glass. It comes to him through the haze of years, and his heart beats grow heavy with the memory of a wild haired boy staring up at him with a grin brighter than the light of the moon.

"Lan Zhan!" he hears him call, somewhere in the back of his mind.

His shoves his hands over his head, sinking them in between the bed and the wall to grip onto— a motion that he'd developed during his most anxious times. Stimming, his therapist had told him once.

His hand hits something it shouldn't. Something… stretchy? He pulls it out, and blinks in confusion at the object in his hand. A red hair tie, just like one Wei Ying used to wear. He'd never known anyone else to wear that color, and it was certainly something he'd never buy himself. The reminder alone— he couldn't fathom.

So why is it here?

Why was it in his bed?

Chapter Text

It takes him a moment after waking to realize his surroundings. He’s home. Safe in his bed, where he’d slept all night next to a relic from his past. He looks over at it, the red hair tie sitting on his phone, only to see a text from Adam light up the screen. 

Don't forget to send your footage. I need it ready to edit by the weekend. 

It sounds a little like a boss talking to and employee and puts a bitter taste in his mouth. It's funny, he thinks to himself, how quickly his love for Adam turned to disgust. He doesn't even like seeing his name in his alerts— this reminder that he's still part of his life feels like an unwelcome intrusion. He tosses his phone away, but not before muting him. He might send the footage, but he doesn't plan to engage him in any other way.

He's got enough time for a run before heading to the school and is contented to find the morning clear and cool. The sun is just rising over the mountains casting a gorgeous orange hue over the grounds. Which, now that he's seeing them, are quite breathtaking. Is this new too, or is he seeing everything with wistful eyes?

He starts down the path he used to run, hoping his body won't take long to adapt to the change in elevation. It would be ill advised to push himself too far, but he longs for the burn of exercise again. Adam had always seemed to have a better use of his time, and after things had fallen apart he couldn't bear to hear the passive aggressive grumblings whenever he put work into his body.

Here, he can run unbothered, as far and as fast as his legs want to take him. Within reason, of course.

As he meets the curve of the road, he encounters a strange young man. Quite pale, though lean and well muscled as if he worked with his hands. Possibly a laborer, Lan Zhan thought. He'd pulled his hair into a long braid that spanned the length of his back and wore a hat to shield himself from the sun. He bows as Lan Zhan approaches, a big smile on his face.

"Lan Er G-g-gongzi! N-nice to meet you!" the boy greets him. "I'm a big f-fan of your show."

Oh. Oh no. Has it started already? They aren't the level of famous that resulted in fans waiting outside their house, but it had been known to happen from time to time with other content creators. As he struggles to find the right words to deal with the situation, the boy continues.

"I live just over there with my sister. She's the c-caretaker. She said you met yesterday and you weren't as awful as she th-thought you'd be." He smiles proudly and Lan Zhan has never been more lost for words. It's quite the mixture, the relief he isn't being stalked paired with confusion over whether or not he's just been insulted. "Oh! I'm Wen Ning. It's a pleasure to meet you." He bows too low for the occasion, but Lan Zhan returns it in kind.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Wen Ning." And he finds he actually means it. The boy's blunt honesty probably earns him a reputation among the others, but it refreshes him. That his boldness hasn't been beaten out of him speaks volumes about Wen Qing's character as well.

He starts to disengage and begin his run, but an errant thought strikes him. "Wen Ning, how long have you lived here with your sister?"

He thinks back, counting on his fingers. "About five years now? T-time passes fast."

Five years. His uncle has needed care that long, and he was unaware. Oblivious. He'd have to talk to Xichen and discover why he'd been left in the dark, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was his uncle's own doing. Filial respect would be the only reason for Xichen to hold his tongue on such matters.

"Mmh. Thank you. I'm sure we'll run into each other again." They bow again and Lan Zhan takes off, trying to keep a steady pace as he heads towards the mountain trail, regretting the ache in his lungs from the sedentary life he'd fallen into.

—

The piano room, just like his bedroom at home, remains unchanged by the years. The same old desks sit in the same places, and the same light blue fabric drapes over the large windows overlooking the courtyard. In the middle of the room, the grand piano he'd learned on as a child.

Xichen watches him take in the room with a fond smile, holding his words until Lan Zhan's ready to hear them, because his eyes are fixed on the courtyard— the same one that Wei Ying used to stare out them during class, distracted by whatever wildlife happened to be frolicking in the fountains.

He doesn't catch himself before thinking the name. It comes to him too easily, and he brushes it off by his surroundings. It's not like he's purposefully trying to avoid thinking it or saying it. It is simply that he'd moved on. He has no need to revisit the past. Why bring up someone he no longer talks to? Someone that no longer exists in his world.

Xichen must have grown tired of waiting and began to talk. His voice drones on about his roster and he should really pay attention. He runs his hand along the grand piano, lifting the lid to examine the keys. He touches a few, the piano is well tuned. Still loved after all these years. Something under the hood catches his eye and if he's honest, it's the only reason he lifted it to begin with.

He traces his hand over the carving and finds one more reminder, a memory coming back to him clear as day.

It was Wei Ying's idea to sneak in. Lan Zhan would never think of such a thing, but the irony was not lost on him. His friend had tried everything to avoid being there when he was supposed to, and now risked punishment to be there when he wasn't.

"Play a song just for me, Lan Zhan," the boy implored him. "Something you want to play."

There was a song, actually. One no one had ever heard. One he'd written just for him. One he'd played so many times his fingers didn't need to consult his brain. The notes spilled out of him like a river running over a cliff, a waterfall of music written for Wei Ying to hear.

He finished before it ended, and looked up to see the boy on the edge of his seat. "It's not done yet," he admitted, sheepishly. But the boy didn't care. He only made him promise he'd be the first one to hear it the moment it was complete. If Lan Zhan had anything to say, he would be the only one to hear it— ever. He agreed, and the boy rewarded him with the lopsided grin that warmed his soul.

The boy whipped out a knife and carved something on the underside of the hood. WY + LZ = BFF. He traced over them, wondering if his ears were as red as they felt.

He comes back to the present and lifts his finger where it had traced over the carving. The last F has been crossed out, and the thought of when that might have happened eats at the facade of his indifference.

He closes the lid and it lands harshly, sounding off a few of the keys. Xichen pauses, raising his eyebrow in a silent question. When he shakes his head, Xichen continues and this time he tries his hardest to listen.

__

Xichen lets him tour the rest of the center at his own pace, and when he explains he must step away to have a conversation with the dance instructor, Lan Zhan quirks his head in surprise.

"We teach dance now? A music academy?"

"Yes, Wangji," Xichen said, taking a long suffering tone that he frankly didn't deserve. "Dance is an integral partner to music and a delicate art. Why would we eschew it?"

"You sound pretentious," Lan Zhan remarks, only to catch too late that his brother is mocking him.

"The kids love it. And we found someone extremely talented to lead the program. It's a way to bring in a more diverse student base. Plus, I think you'll get along well with the instructor," he smiles, knowingly. "Perhaps he could teach you a few moves."

"In all my free time," Lan Zhan bites back with a bit of sarcasm. His brother just shakes his head and walks away.

Now alone, he decides to skip the tour and wrap up his lesson plan so he'll have less to worry about over the weekend. The notes left behind by the previous instructor are woefully inadequate and he doesn't bother using them— even as a skeleton. It does cause him a bit of worry as there's a chance the students will be ill prepared for his class, but decides to keep an open mind. Maybe he'll be pleasantly surprised.

It takes most of the afternoon to rework the plans from the ground up, but he needs to ensure every student will get their money's worth. And maybe it just feels nice to have something with his control again. He finds, amid all of the writing and planning, that tt's actually nice being back. He's been in survival mode for so long, just making it through each day and fearing what the next would bring

Now he thinks about tomorrow with excitement. For so long he'd been focused on pretending to be happy, lest a camera lens catch his true feelings and cause an uproar. It's only been a couple of days out of their shared apartment and lo and behold, he actually could be happy.

It's inevitable, because he's in this room where they'd spent so much time together. It's inevitable that his mind wanders back to Wei Ying. He ponders what his old friend would think to find him right back where they'd started. Would he be amused? He'd always told Lan Zhan he wouldn't stay away after college. He'd come running back to his uncle and brother and live the conventional life he'd been born into. And he'd reply in this hypothetical conversation that would never hapopen, he'd reply with every ounce of his dignity, that he's not back back. This is temporary. No need for vindicated grins.

Just an extended stay.

Which of course begs the question as to where his old friend had ended up. His spirit had always been wild and unbroken. Untamed, his uncle had chided him so many times in the past. Perhaps he'd be a wild life photographer, untethered to any one place and capturing moments on film the world wouldn't know without him. Of course, Wei Ying had always been so effortlessly brilliant. Maybe a computer programmer? Or the CEO of his own tech firm?

Or maybe he'd accepted the conventional life. Maybe he'd settled down with the girlfriend he'd introduced him to the day his heart had shattered in pieces. Perhaps they have two point five kids and a fence he has to mend every time the winds get too strong because he was too rushed to put it up properly the first time.

His constant musings delay his progress, but he's able to complete the syllabus just as the sun starts to set. He's pleased to see the main office has a much nicer printer than in his youth and he sets it to print out 30 copies— enough for all his students and a few extras for the parents who want their own.

The sounds of the printer are hypnotizing and he almost loses himself in thought again, but a harsh beeping brings him back before he drifts too far.

Paper jam. Splendid.

He looks at the problem from all sides, but doesn't see an obvious point of entry. Adam deals with the technology at their apartment; he never has to worry about it. He supposes he'd have to learn after they part ways, so now's a good as time as any. Yet, he can't figure out where to start.

"Paper jam again?" a small voice asks, and he turns around to see a boy of about 9 holding his own copy request. He's polite but not shy, as he skirts by Lan Zhan to examine the machine. Lifitng a lid Lan Zhan hadn't noticed, the boy extracts a mangled sheet of paper and resumes the print job. Like magic, the printer gets back to it's mission in no less of a hurry than before.

"It gets jammed all the time. Baba's supposed to fix it, but he's been so distracted lately with the summer sessions. Hey…" the boy murmurs, looking down at the sheet he pried out. "You're the new piano teacher!"

He holds up the sheet of mangled paper as evidence. "I'm in your class!" Then the boy's eyes narrow to a squint as he looks more closely at him. "You're him. You're the YouTube guy!"

So this will be a thing. Apparently his hometown isn't socially isolated from the world anymore, and his reach has penetrated the small mountain oasis after all.

"Mmh. Lan Wangji, it is nice to meet you." He waits politely, but the boy continues on, forgetting he's supposed to return the introduction.

"Don't tell my baba you know this, but he LOVES your show. Watches it all the time." He's got a bright smile that doesn't look forced, more like his natural state of being. But it dims before his next question and his eyes grow a little more serious. "Is Adam here as well?"

"No," Wangji answers, curious about the boy's change in tone.

"Oh good. Baba thinks he's a "douche nozzle"." He uses air quotes as he hurls the insult, and Lan Zhan tries his hardest to hold back his laughter. It's more difficult than it should be for a man approaching 30.

He contemplates scolding the boy, but rather instructs that he will have to refrain from using such language in the classroom.

"But I used air quotes?" he seems genuinely confused, but Lan Zhan remains firm.

"Even when using air quotes." The boy is too precious not to smile at. And apparently an adequate judge of character. Perhaps his father would be willing to vet Lan Zhan's future love interests. It might save him some heartache.

"Well, it's been nice to meet you.." Lan Zhan tries again, and this time the boy realizes his small faux pas.

"Call me A-Yuan! Nice to meet you!" The boy gives a proper bow and Lan Zhan steps away from the machine, taking his copies with him. He finds he's still smiling by the time he makes it back to his classroom.

—

Adam calls again that evening, leaving a long voicemail he allows his phone to auto-transcribe— a wise choice as it all boils down to a request for footage. He could film something short about his time back in Gusu, or he could ignore it one more day. Since he's dog tired with an empty stomach, he chooses the latter.

Dinner is a similar affair to the night before. Wen Qing seems one degree warmer, but still quite icy. He muses mentioning how nice it was to meet her brother, but her airpods are firmly wedged in her ears and he keeps his thoughts to himself.

He is able to pass her salt without being asked and earns himself a impressed glance, so he takes it as a win.

After dinner they talk about Mingjue's new business venture. It took him overseas, making it the longest amount of time Xichen had been apart from his husband since they married.

"Long distance isn't for the weak," he tells them both, and he can see how lovesick his brother actually is. The two men had always been inseparable. Best friends in high school, following each other to the same college. Mingjue had proposed soon after graduation, and their wedding was one of Lan Zhan's fondest memories of his brother. He'd been glowing.

Uncle looks at him with sympathetic eyes, but Xichen changes the subject once he senses the mood has fallen.

"Were you able to meet any of the staff today, Wangji?"

"Not quite. One of my future students helped me with a paper jam in the office. Apparently his father's a fan of the channel."

Xichen leans forward with interest, propping his chin up with his hands. "Oh? Already meeting your fans?" His tone is teasing, but he looks genuinely curious.

"Must we talk about the channel?" his uncle grouses. "That man is a waste of every talent you've cultivated."

"Shifu!" Xichen warns, boldly admonishing his uncle in front of Lan Zhan. It feels harsh and uncomfortable to see his uncle abashed.

"He's not wrong, Xichen." It's a small olive branch, and one his uncle gladly takes hold of.

"Anyway, it's good you're here. The mountain air looks good on you," Uncle admits, before adding, a little more softly, "It hasn't been the same here without you."

He's stunned to hear his uncle speaking so openly and honestly. He'd been reticent to share such sentiments in his youth. What must have changed in the years he's been away?

It's another reminder— life here hasn't been frozen in time like he'd assumed. It had grown and changed without him, in many ways for the better.

The thought humbles him.

—

It's not a text that wakes him Saturday morning, but the harsh whir of a lawnmower. He'd slept in later than usual, as his heart to heart with Xichen ran late into the night. He'd confirmed uncle didn't want his youngest nephew bothered by minor health concerns.

"He didn't want to interrupt your life, Lan Zhan. None of us did. You have such a big following, and looked so busy. And he watched all your episodes, so he still felt close to you. Please don't be upset with his decision."

"I'm not upset," he'd told his brother. "I'm just sad I didn't know to be here."

Xichen had comforted him, but he didn't feel he deserved it.

He decides to take a long jog through the mountain trail to escape the noise of the machines. He saw a flash of Wen Ning in the distance, working an edger expertly. No awkward run-ins this morning, then.

He jogs a little farther this morning, wanting to give the landscaping crew plenty of time to finish their work before heading back. He can't deal with the noise, not with so much already going on in his head.

The trail takes him to an overlook where he takes a moment to his breath. He still hasn't reconciled how far he's traveled from his family. They'd once been so close, despite his uncle's rigid rule system. A part of him thought his uncle would be like that forever, stern and disapproving right to his final day. Yet looking at him and Xichen now, they're almost friend like.

He'd been shocked when Xichen came out and his uncle more concerned with Mingjue's ability to contribute to their marriage than the fact that it was a same sex union. Mingjue had won him over with relative ease, just like everyone else around him. Now they fish together, and his son in law advises him on investment opportunities.

He'd brought Adam home shortly after, thinking his uncle would be just as accepting. He wasn't. He took one look at the boy and his mind had been made up.

"He's not good for you, Wangji. Not even as a friend. I don't approve." His tone had left no room for negotiation.

If it had been earlier, he might have thought it was homophobia. But his uncle had a keen insight he foolishly ignored. Rather than listen to him and understand his concerns, he simply declined to bring Adam back— which meant he stopped coming to Gusu as well. Partly because Adam hated when he traveled alone, always scared he'd meet someone and leave him behind. He clung to him so desperately when he mentioned a trip home and the only way to avoid a fight was to cancel the plans entirely.

Of course, there was also the matter of his own pride. He'd resented how little his uncle had tried to get to know his new boyfriend. He was no Nie Mingjue, but he'd been the first person to make Lan Zhan feel wanted since—

Anyway, they'd come to see him a few times in the city, but those trips had petered out rather quickly. It was too much for Qiren, and Xichen stayed too busy to travel.

He supposes that's how he landed here, a stranger in his hometown. If it was anyone's fault, it was his own.

He watches the clouds for a while, the beeping of his phone reminding him to head back. He's timed it well, and it's quite peaceful upon his return. The smell of fresh cut grass welcomes him back and he has to admit, it is quite lovely.

—

Only a few cars wait in the parking lot on Monday morning. A red jeep with the top down, irresponsible in his opinion, and his brother's black Audi. He parks towards the back in hopes the walk will soothe some of his restless energy.

It's a sorely missed feeling— this excitement. Wei Ying had always teased he'd be an excellent teacher though he suspects some of it was to flatter him into helping him finish the assignments he was too bored to complete.

The desks sit empty, and he takes the opportunity to lay out the printed syllabus neatly on each one. Of course, he also emailed out a copy, but he feels the kids will respond better to having something palpable in their hands to refer to. (Not to mention, the thought of the kids whipping out their cell phone to follow along triggers his eye twitch.)

Xichen allowed him input on his scheduling since his students have little overlap with the other classes. He did so in the order of ability, meaning he starts his day with the beginners, and before his patience has had a chance to wane. While the kids are ordered by their abilities and not their ages, there's little spread amongst them. The only exception, he is delighted to find, is A-Yuan himself. At nine years old, he's the youngest in the expert class by five years. The boy seems mature for his age, so Lan Zhan hopes it won't be too much of a problem.

The beginners are the absolute worst he's ever heard and he greatly lowers his expectations after the first class. On the bright side, it will be easier to demonstrate improvement when they're starting at literal ground zero. Of the children attending, most seem to be appeasing one parent or the other. Only one child seems truly interested for her own sake, a small girl named Xiao Qing. He makes a mark by her name as a potential mentee, and hopes her parents approve.

The intermediate class is a bit more serious with far less students. There's a range of talent here and only one child seems markedly disinterested. There's even a cocky student or two that feel their skill level is undervalued and request to be put into the top tier class. They're wrong, of course, but he knows how to deal with that attitude. Of the seven students enrolled, only one is, for lack of a better word, terrible. To the point that Lan Zhan can't fathom why he wasn't put with the beginners despite his older age. The clothes he's wearing hint at parental interference, and he wonders if financial contributions swayed Xichen's decision making here.

The boy talks when he shouldn't, doesn't talk when he's asked, is shy at the keys and doodles in his notebook rather than paying attention. Lan Zhan's well of patience almost depletes in dealing with him, and he plans to talk to his parents during the welcome dinner and suggest they spend their money in a more efficient manner.

The expert level restores his faith. There is a huge leap of ability between this class and the intermediate, far greater than the beginner to intermediate gap. If universities hadn't already started scouting some of these kids, they will be soon.

A-Yuan is his biggest surprise yet. He's likable in his own right, a little reserved but also easygoing. Despite the age difference, he's well regarded by the others in the class. Even the oldest of the children speaks to him respectfully, deferring to his natural and well honed talent.

And when he takes the keys, Lan Zhan witnesses first hand why. A chill goes down his spine as A-Yuan begins to play. The focus, the intensity… he hasn't seen anything like that since… well, since himself if he's to be candidly honest. While the boy isn't the best in the class, whatever he lacks is a result of his age and experience. Pound for pound, his future is the brightest.

It fills him with hope. He finds himself looking ahead again, this time more than a day or two into the future. He's looking ahead years, excited for things to come. The significance of the feeling isn't lost on him. He puts a notation by A-Yuan's name for the program, asking him to stay after class so they can discuss.

The boy does so, lagging behind as the rest of the student's file out. For all his talent, he seems nervous. He almost looks like he might be expected a scolding, so Lan Zhan quickly explains he has something positive to discuss. Perhaps he cuts a more intimidating figure for the kids than he realizes.

"Do you know about the mentorship program we're offering this summer?" Lan Zhan begins, and the boy shuffles his feet shyly.

"Mmh. There's private lessons and a talent show. Baba's doing it as well."

It's good he's aware. The boy still seems a little anxious, though.

"A-Yuan, I think you'd be a prime candidate. I'd like to invite you to join as the expert level soloist."

The boy doesn't smile like he thought he would. In fact, frets, looking down at his feet with hesitance, or perhaps embarrassment. Kicking his toe back and forth across the hardwood floor, he chews his lip as unknown thoughts pass behind his eyes.

"It's just, we don't have a lot of money. Baba works here, so I get free tuition. But I don't think we can afford private lessons."

A-Yuan had been looking for a way to politely reject his offer. Though, his excuse confuses Lan Zhan. Is he supposed to be charging extra for the lessons? Xichen had never mentioned it, so he assumed it was on a voluntary basis. No wonder the rest of the teachers are excited about the program! No matter; he'd already planned on donating his time anyway.

"You wouldn't be charged for the lessons. The only fee I charge is your dedication to the program. Which means taking the lessons seriously and maintaining perfect attendance in both class and individual sessions. Please ask your father about it and let me know. I think you have tremendous potential."

A-Yuan's face lights up, and for a second he thinks his words have been the cause. Then he notices the boy is looking behind him.

"Can I baba? Please?"

He turns around to greet A-Yuan's father, and nearly falls where he stands. He might have, had he not been leaning against his desktop. His legs certainly go weak because the man before him, the man he's looking at, the man whose frame fills the doorway— the man has gray eyes. Raven black hair a tad bit unruly. Narrow hips and skin tight jeans. And one, sinful mole beneath his bottom lip.

He's older now. Much broader than he'd been in his youth. No longer too thin, his body has the mark of a man who works it— not at the gym, but in life. He's ruggedly handsome, with an aura that steals Lan Zhan's breath from his chest. He has to fight to get it back, to form words, because the silence between them is so loud it hurts.

"Wei Ying," he breathes, shuffling to stand up straight. Wei Ying is A-Yuan's father. Wei Ying is the dance instructor. The one Xichen was excited for him to meet. The world hasn't started turning again as he chances a look at the boy. 9 years old. Simple math. It means Wei Ying had him soon after Lan Zhan left for college. His mother might even be the girl he'd introduced him to that night. The "thing" he'd had to tell Lan Zhan about.

He's not supposed to be here. There are countless other places in the world he'd imagined him, thriving and living his dreams. How is he here? How is he standing ten steps away, filling up Lan Zhan's door frame? And why had Xichen said nothing?

He will commit fratricide and the judge will understand.

Calm down, he tells himself, and remembers the reason they're both there in the piano room. This isn't about you. This is about a talented young man becoming the best version of himself. This is just some insane coincidence. You're still staring at him. Don't make it weird.

He shakes himself together and attempts a strong voice. There's absolutely no tremble to it. He thinks. "Your son is talented and I'd like to mentor him." There. Not weird at all. The sentence came out perfectly timed and not rushed at all.

Wei Ying gawks at him, still wrestling his own thoughts inside his brilliant brain. He seems just as surprised to see Lan Zhan. No words come out at first, until his face settles into a slight frown and a pang of worry blooms in Lan Zhan's stomach. He knows that look, of Wei Ying shutting down, and he'd gotten it before even getting a greeting.

Wei Ying turns to his son, where his gaze softens into that of an apology.

"A-Yuan, I don't think we can swing private lessons right now. I'm sorry, radish." He smiles and suddenly it's as if no time has passed at all. The feelings he'd buried rise to the surface fast they threaten to give him the bends. His need to console Wei Ying rears its head, begs him to step forward, to get a little closer. It's been less than one minute, and somehow Wei Ying already has him in the palm of his hand.

"Teacher Lan said they'd be no cost though. I just have to take it seriously. Right, Teacher Lan?"

He hurries to agree with the boy, if only to get that look off Wei Ying's face. "Mmh. I won't be charging for my services. I would be honored to mentor A-Yuan."

"We don't need charity," Wei Ying snaps. Though he must not have intended to reply so harshly; his face softens right after. "How um, how much are you charging the others? I might be able to put enough together."

"I'm not charging any student for the private instruction. They are part of my commitment to the program." He shouldn't sound so altruistic. There'd been a second he briefly considered charging the other two once learning it was an option. He dismisses it now, not wanting anything standing in the way of the opportunity to work with A-Yuan.

Wei Ying stares at him for a long moment, presumably looking for the catch. Lan Zhan keeps his face as stoic as possible, a skill he's honed for many years that somehow never seems to fool Wei Ying. Maybe with the passage of time he's gotten better, or Wei Ying has gotten worse. He doesn't seem to hear the pounding of his heart or the way he can't stop his fingers from fidgeting.

Wei Ying turns to his son. "Alright radish, it's your decision. But, if you agree, I expect you to be respectful of Mr. Lan's time. No skipping lessons to play with your friends." He tries not to wince when Wei Ying refers to him so impersonally. He knows it's because of A-Yuan, but he longs to hear his birth name spoken in Wei Ying's voice again, more than he thought possible.

"I promise! Thank you, Baba!" A-Yuan wraps his arms around his father's stomach, and Lan Zhan tries not to be bitter that it's technically him doing the nice thing here.

"See you around, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says casually, giving him his wish just before his son leads him away. And now that longing of his makes sense. Hearing it again, hearing Wei Ying speak his name, fills him more than the fresh mountain air and the smell of freshly cut grass. Heals him more thoroughly than the trickling sounds of the pond he'd jumped over this morning, and the feeling of home when he'd walked through the front door.

He is still Lan Zhan to Wei Ying, and the thought floods him with relief. So much relief he could cry.

It takes a moment, but soon after they leave, a tidbit from Friday's conversation returns to him- the young boy proclaiming very assuredly that his father watches the show and loathes his ex. The words take on a deeper meaning now that he knows their origin, and something inside him that has long laid dormant begins to stir.  

It's an intoxicating kind of feeling that his heart rushes to embrace while his mind steels itself against feeling. Wei Ying had been the one to leave back then. He'd chosen a future without Lan Zhan in it. Their paths crossing now changes nothing and the feelings Wei Ying stirs inside him won't ever be seen, acknowledged, or even reciprocated— and he'd do well to remember it.

Chapter Text

He's not entirely sure when his sex drive stalled but he knows he'd lost it by the time he caught Adam cheating. Somewhere in the loss of privacy and the authenticity of their relationship turning celluloid, it had waned to the point of being nonexistent.

There were times he touched himself, staring at the office/bedroom ceiling, trying to arouse a semblance of a spark inside him. The well was dry, though. Masturbation became a means to an end— a sleep aid. Nothing more than a way to vent the stress from his body.

And there was also the issue of his self esteem. He hadn't been enough to keep Adam interested. His body had grown older and though he maintained it as well as he could, Adam stopped looking at him with lust. He stopped seeing himself through his lover's eyes and the worse he felt about himself, the more his desire for sexual release waned.

Seeing Wei Ying again had been worth ten crash carts to his libido. It's a bad idea, he knows, but he can't dull the thrum with self scolding. He stands in the shower long after he's clean, remembering parts of him and then the whole of him. He was thin and lanky as a teen, and perhaps a tad bit goofy. As a man, he's long and lean, tanned and well defined. He's been eating well, evidenced by the thickness of his thighs and a shapely ass he couldn't help but ogle as the man walked away from him.

He should stop. He knows it's wrong. Wei Ying is not his anything anymore. He belongs to someone else. Probably a wife, though he doesn't remember A-Yuan mentioning his mother. Perhaps it is because he's unattainable that he allows himself to keep going. His hands wander as he relives the moment their eyes met, and he imagines it was just the two of them in the room. Not the classroom though, his own bedroom. Wei Ying pressed against him, whimpering in his ear. He takes himself in hand and strokes himself to full hardness as he wonders what Wei Ying would be like as a lover. Would he tease him and giggle in his ear, or would Lan Zhan take away his ability to speak, reducing him to nothing more than strangled sounds and loud panting?

Would he submit to him, or fight him the entire time? And which would Lan Zhan prefer more? Typically, his past lovers had been submissive. He had the aura that attracted the type, the men looking for a firm hand. But there's fight in Wei Ying, always had been. Since the moment they met as kids, he'd always challenged Lan Zhan. Riled him up without even trying that hard. And as they grew older, he began to feel the incessant need to force him down and take the entirety of him.

The Wei Ying in his mind now flips them both so Lan Zhan is underneath him. He's taunting him with a grin as he grabs Lan Zhan’s cock and slides down it, taking him inside inch by inch. Rolling his hips once Lan Zhan bottoms out and grinding his ass against him. A litany of filth pours from his lips to Lan Zhan's ears.

He taunts Lan Zhan the entire time, with that mischievous glint in his eyes. Rides him hard and long, pinning his arms back so he can't touch where he wants to. Letting Lan Zhan have only what Wei Ying will give him. When Wei Ying comes untouched, Lan Zhan comes harder, his vision whiting out while he strokes himself through it, imagining the soft, wet heat of Wei Ying's mouth against his own.

When the haze of his orgasm clears, he's left with a familiar hollowness and a small does of shame. He's a teenager again, so affected by the presence of his friend he can't think straight. Reduced to a bundle of raw need.

He shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts, but they cling to him. He reasons, there with the water still streaming and his cock softening in his hand as he regains his breath, he reasons it was how suddenly and without warning Wei Ying appeard. It shocked his system, so he had to indulge himself a little. A one time thing just to burn it off. And now that he's taken himself through the fantasy, he won't be as libido driven their next encounter.

Oh gods. Their next encounter. He hadn't had time to consider that yet. He'd be running into Wei Ying again. Often. They share the same school again. Once a week? Twice a week? And then he remembers he's a mentee’s father and the number grows.

His fingers are growing pruny and he turns the water off, abandoning the shower in favor of shoving his face into the towel hanging by the door.

It does a stellar job of muffling his obscenity laden scream.

—

His ex calls. Again. He's growing mean and his words are now threatening. Lan Zhan doesn't want to deal with the annoyance, so he blocks him completely. Just for now. He still feels slightly guilty if only because he'd made the man a promise. Not guilty enough to reply, though.

Alone in his bedroom, hetries to wrap his head around Wei Ying's sudden reappearance. How long has he been here? What had Xichen said, several years? He seemed comfortable. For a moment before he registered Lan Zhan, he was all but glowing.

He wish he'd known. Xichen could have warned him, given him half a shot at least. Then he could have braced himself for the sudden onslaught of feelings that threatened to carry him away.

A thought strikes him. The red hair tie. Had he possibly slept in Lan Zhan's bed? The thought sounds ridiculous, because why? How? He couldn't imagine the dominoes that would have fallen to make such a wild thing happen. But he couldn't explain any other way it had landed there either. Could it really have been a holdover from his youth?

As if being summoned, Xichen knocks three times and pops his head in. "Just wanted to see how your first day went. Settling in okay?"

"Mmh," he responds, filling him in on the two students he'd identified for the mentor program. He won't be the first to mention Wei Ying by name; he won't give his brother that satisfaction. He'll wait for him to bring it up, and reply with nonchalance. Oh, yes, I did run into him the other day. What a surprise. I haven't thought of him since high school.

As it turns out Xichen has no intention of dragging it out any further. "A-Yuan you say? He's Wei Ying's son. You two were friends in high school, if I recall correctly."

Beaten at his own game. Well now his plan would sound ridiculous, so he abandons it.

Lan Zhan rolls his eyes, hard. "Yes, ge. You know we were."

"In fact," he continues, his tone signaling how much he's enjoying the conversation, "I remember you two being inseparable at one point."

"Mmh." He decides to go monosyllabic in an attempt not to feed the beast.

"I remember you being happy back then. He was good for you. Challenged you to get out of your shell. Maybe you could reconnect this summer? Rekindle the old friendship?"

"Ge," he tries, but Xichen has a bone he won't let go. It's best to let him finish, ride out the waves of meddling until he grows tired.

"Just saying. One can never have too many friends in life. And it would be good for him, too. It's hard being a single father, Wangji. Ask Shifu."

Lan Zhan's ears perk and he forgets a moment to be blase.

"Single father? He's not married?"

"Not unless he's hiding a spouse somewhere. A-Yuan's mother left a few years after he was born. No one knows all the details, but he's been raising him alone. Doing a great job of it as well, it seems."

Why didn't you tell me he was here? 

He wants so badly to ask. The question burns in his throat. But asking him is admitting that it would make a difference. That Wei Ying means something to him and it's more than just that of an old friend. Someone that could turn his world sideways just by stepping foot in a doorway. Someone he would need to be warned about.

And while it's the truth, it's not one he's ready to discuss. His feelings for Wei Ying have always been the most private thing about him. They are a closely guarded secret that sometimes he even tries to keep from himself.

Xichen studies his response with intent so he schools his expression into something thoughtful. "Mmh. A-Yuan's very talented and mature for his age." It's a good diversion, puts them back on neutral territory— a student's performance.

It's enough, and Xichen backs off. "Well, I'll leave you for the night. Why don't you invite your two mentees and their parents to dinner this weekend? I'd like to get to know them both."

The door closes and he thinks he's won, all of two seconds. Soon enough, he realizes Xichen has managed to invite Wei Ying for dinner in a way he can't refuse. He hadn't backed off at all!

Once again, he'd greatly underestimated his brother's ability to meddle.

—

His beginner class had gone well. A-Qing showed up with the signed permission slip to attend private lessons with encouraging notes from both her parents. It looked like they were both supportive and involved, making his job that much easier.

The great start to his day led him to resting on his laurels too soon, and now he stands aghast as the worst kid in the intermediate class stays after to ask him a question. The question. The one Lan Zhan was supposed to ask, not the student.

"I notice you haven't chosen anyone to mentor from our class and I was wondering if maybe I could apply?"

He briefly considers that this could be some sort of prank. Did one of the other kids put him up to this? No. A quick glance around confirms no one waits outside or watches from the windows. It is just him and the boy, staring at each other, both waiting to hear how he'll answer. He'd wanted the kid to explore better uses of his time, but private lessons? In a subject he seems utterly disinterested in?

"I appreciate your enthusiasm," Lan Zhan begins carefully. "But the lessons I'm providing are free, meaning I'm donating my own personal time to invest in students that have demonstrated a certain potential for advancement. Without a passion to learn, I fear we would both be wasting our time."

Even as he speaks, he realizes how harsh it sounds. He should have sugarcoated it more, but he's caught off guard. Letting people down easily is not his forte.

The boy isn't crushed, though, not in the least. He puffs his chest out and challenges Lan Zhan with a fierce glare. "But I am passionate! I want to learn!" he insists, his puffy little cheeks turning red.

Lan Zhan sighs, leaning back on his desk. He takes his student's demeanor as permission to speak candidly. "You don't pay attention in class. You doodle in your notebook while I'm speaking. You never look at the board during the lessons. You're antsy and fidgety and seem like you'd rather be anywhere else. Why on earth would you want to spend more of your time learning something you're obviously disinterested in?"

"I am paying attention! I listen better when I doodle. And I can't control my fidgeting. I've tried, but then I'm concentrating too much on not moving and not what you're saying. I promise, I really care but it just doesn't look like it. I don't know how to change that," the boy cries, and now the tears are beginning to form.

Well, then. The kid's done a surprisingly efficient job of putting him in his place. He feels ashamed of himself, more so because the boy's descriptions of himself remind him of a young Wei Ying. Always fidgeting, always talking during class, but somehow still receiving the highest marks.

Lan Zhan relaxes his stance and softens his tone. "Perhaps I judged you unfairly," he admits. He'd been considering a couple of the other students, but Jin Ling has managed to impress him with relative ease. (It's not that he's weak to petulant tears.)

"Fine. I'll take you on as a mentee. You've made a solid case for yourself."

He hands him a packet from his desk drawer, the same he'd provided to the other two students. "Please have your parents review the information. There's also a dinner on Friday night just for the mentees and you are encouraged to attend. The information is inside. Our first lesson will begin next week."

The boy smiles as he takes the packet, but hesitates a moment. When he speaks up, his voice is markedly less self assure. "I don't have parents, but I can tag along with my uncle and cousin?"

"Pardon?" Lan Zhan feels another coincidence traveling toward him at full speed. Hears the words before the boy says them.

"My cousin A-Yuan is part of the program. He's how I found out about it in the first place."

"Meaning your uncle— is Wei Wuxian."

"Yep!" Jin Ling smiles brightly.

Of course he is. A dull throb pounds behind his eyes.

"Mmh. That will be fine."

—

While the other teachers offer lessons once a week in a combined class, he decides to give two weekly sessions on alternating days. It allows the students completely private instruction, which he felt was the goal of the project to begin with. It also allows them time to practice what they've learned but not enough time to forget their progress.

Unfortunately, it will mean 6 days a week with commitments and no time for anything else. It does make him a little happy to know "anything else" includes the footage he'd agreed to send. He'd stopped feeling guilty about it. The longer he's been separated from Adam, the more ashamed he feels of falling for the man's tricks. Whatever hold he had over him is breaking, and it feels quite freeing.

By the time Friday's dinner comes around, he's feeling lighter than he has in years. The morning runs are reflected in his face, and he notices he looks younger than when he first arrived. He wonders if anyone else will notice the change. No one in particular of course. Just.. anyone that happens to be at dinner.

Xichen offered to welcome the guests as it's taking him a little longer to get ready, and he hears Wei Ying's voice traveling through the walls. They're thick and sturdily built, but only a perfectly sound proofed room could contain his sound. It brings a smile to his face through his frustration. He's tried on every piece of clothing he brought with him, and nothing seems to work. He eventually settles on the first thing he'd tried on— a light blue sweater and off white loose fitting pants. If he can't be stylish, he should at least be comfortable. After a few with his hair,he pulls it back into a loose bun and allows a couple of strands to fall free and frame his face.

It's not the best he's ever looked, but it will do, he supposes.

He keeps hearing Wei Ying laugh downstairs, deep belly laughs that make him antsy with the need to be in the same room.

Wait. This isn't right. He's not a teenager anymore, harboring a crush on his straight best friend. He's a grown man, and while his relationship may be fake, he's matured since high school. He's not the same boy that folds immediately under the weight of the silver eyed stare.

He reminds himself of that as he comes down the stairs, viewing a parlor full of children and parents. No, it's not the eyes that do him in. It's the mole under his lip, currently being pulled into his mouth as he nibbles on his bottom lip, eyes dancing over Lan Zhan's form as he descends. Whatever cool greeting he'd practiced in front of the mirror vanishes from his mind.

"Hello, everyone," he says instead. It's a perfunctory greeting, not eloquent or impressive. It, also, will do.

The children smile at him with bright faces full of excitement. He hopes they feel as special as they are, handpicked by him and not influenced by money or status. Something tells him Wei Ying had chosen his team personally as well, but he can't say the same for the rest of the staff.

The group sits in a semi-circle, with A-Qing's family sharing the couch, the two boys on the floor by the fireplace, Xichen in the light blue winged back chair his uncle usually occupies, and Wei Ying alone on the chaise.

"Wangji! We're just getting started. I saved you a seat," his brother smiles warmly, gesturing to the only empty spot. It's right beside that thick pair of thighs and he breathes deeply before shooting his brother a stare that only he knows the meaning of.

"How lovely of you, ge."

Taking the spot, he sucks in a breath at the instant reminder of Wei Ying's heat. It had been years since they were this close, he'd forgotten how it radiated from his old friend's body, especially when they touched. The chaise lounge is big enough for two, but Wei Ying seems to take up more space than he should, considering the slimness of his waist.

Wei Ying nudges him once he's settled, and his smile contains a wicked flare. "Long time since we've hung out here, Lan Zhan." Though he whispers it, his voice is still loud and his wordsdon't go unnoticed.

Jin Ling's ears perk up."Were you and Teacher Lan friends?"

Wei Ying nods his head happily, clapping his hand on Lan Zhan's back so hard he all but choked and causing Xichen to cover his mouth with a pretend cough to hide his laughter. Fratricide, he reminds himself. Sometime when he's sleeping. He'll make it quick and painless, considering he's a good brother in all other ways.

"Lan Zhan was my bestest friend," he says proudly, and the two young boys look amazed at the news. He tries not to flinch at the use of past tense, his mind flashing the the image of that last "F" underneath the piano lid crossed out.

"Like me and A-Yuan?" Jin Ling asks.

Wei Ying looks over the two cousins and chuckles nervously.

"Not quite. We um, weren't related."

"Technically we're not either," A-Yuan points out, and Lan Zhan raises his eyebrow at Wei Ying. He wasn't speaking in technicalities. The thought toys with his mind, knowing that Wei Ying meant the difference wasn't an actual blood relation. He could intervene, but he's quite enjoying watching the man squirm.

"A-Qing!" Wei Ying exclaims, deftly changing the subject. "I hear you're the first girl soloist!"

"I'm the only girl. If there were more girls, there'd be more girl soloists," she points out with a wisdom far beyond her age. By the sheepish look of her parents, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan, it was probably parroted from something they must have talked about before.

"It's not lost on me that we have a dearth of female applicants," Xichen admits to the group. "It's something we're working hard to address. I think A-Qing makes an excellent point." He smiles kindly at her and she beams back.

Xichen hired a chef for the evening, giving Wen Qing the night off. He whispers something in Xichen's ear, and the group slowly moves into the dining room. Xichen was thoughtful enough to set name plates on each person's chair.

It is no surprise where his name landed.

"Seat buddies again!" Wei Ying sings, making no attempt to keep his unruly legs within his own space. Gritting his teeth, he reminds himself that it's a short period of time. He can keep it together. Even as Wei Ying's spicy scent starts to cling to his own clothes from their persistent, close proximity.

Song Lan is the first to bring it up. He has the decency to be shy about it, but he still asks.

"Lan Wangji, I was surprised to hear your partner wouldn't be visiting during the trip. We uh, Xingchen and I, are somewhat fans of your channel. Early subscribers," he grins.

Great. Perfect. Spectacular.

"He couldn't make it," he says simply, planning to drop the matter before a sharp look from his brother reminded him of his manners. "Thank you for the support. We appreciate it."

He could be wrong. He's probably wrong. Surely his mind plays tricks on him as he feels Wei Ying tense of beside him at the mention of his ex. Well, A-Yuan had mentioned his dislike, perhaps it ran deeper than he imagined.

"You've been together quite a while now. Any wedding plans on the horizon?" Xingchen asks in good humor. The thought churns his stomach and he looks to Xichen helplessly.

His brother steps in immediately and masterfully, channeling the public relations skills he's mastered during his run at the academy.

"Nothing has been decided, but we appreciate how much you enjoy the channel. And it's been such a boon for Wangji. Without the flexibility it provides, he wouldn't have been able to dedicate his summer to help us out and mentor your extremely talented children. Now tell me, Xingchen, how did you discover your daughter's musical abilities?"

Just like that, the conversation swerves to safer waters. All mention of Adam ceases and he's able to slowly release the tension that built so quickly. It's only after Wei Ying removes his hand from his thigh that he realizes it had been on him at all, comforting him the entire time.

"Well no student was ever more disruptive than your own father, A-Yuan. Wouldn't you agree, Lan Zhan?" He'd lost track of the conversation, and now he's ended up on guard again. Is his brother really bringing up their past? Here? Now?

"Not fair! Don't answer him, Lan Zhan. I have a stellar reputation." At least his eyes are twinkling again, so bright and inviting it's hard not to get lost inside them.

"Wei Ying was very disruptive. You are a much better student, A-Yuan." The child grins widely, and Wei Ying's soft expression tells him he said the right thing.

"Your baba liked to put notes on uncle's back when he wasn't looking," Lan Zhan adds, and Wei Ying's face grows red.

"That was ONE TIME Lan Zhan! And you laughed. I saw it. The side of your mouth went up .095 degrees. It was scandalous."

"I did no such thing. I saved my uncle from impropriety."

"Because he took one look at you and knew something was up! You totally sold me out!"

He's about to argue his case further, but the look of fondness Xichen gives the two of them stills his words. He clears his throat and smooths out the wrinkles in his soft, ivory pants.

"Wei Ying should not have played tricks. A-Yuan, please follow my example and not your father's."

A-Yuan looks back and forth at them with amusement, thoroughly enjoying the conversation. A-Qing seems to be entertained as well, glancing back and forth between her own fathers for permission to laugh at the adults. It is only Jin Ling who seems reserved. Contemplative. Lan Zhan's reminded he's the only one without parents at the table and it tugs at his heart.

He scours his brain for an opportunity to include him.

"I was quite impressed with your nephew, by the way," he says to Wei Ying, who raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Jin Ling did quite a fine job convincing me of his role in the program."

The boy blushes, still pushing the food on his plate around. "I just made my case. I was really happy you spoke to me like an adult. Not many teachers do," he mumbles.

"Jin Ling hasn't been playing piano that long," Wei Ying remarks, his brows furrowed. "Has he really made that much progress?"

Lan Zhan chokes on his swallow, drinking a large glass of water while the table watches him expectantly. He stifles his first few overly honest responses and chooses something far more diplomatic. "I believe Jin Ling will have the most impressive display of progress at the end of summer showcase."

The adults exchange knowing grins, but the nuance flies over the boy's head. He smiles, and eats his dinner with renewed vigor, laughing along with everyone else as Xichen spouts the innumerable tales of a young Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

—

After dinner, Xichen takes the reins on entertaining the guests, allowing Lan Zhan some time in the kitchen to decompress before rejoining the group. He needs the moment to breathe after nearly suffocating in Wei Ying's scent. He forgets every time until he sees him again just how much his body responds to him. Like a crush that won't die, the only way to save himself is distance— and he hadn't gotten that tonight.

Even so, he's quite impressed with his dinner performance, only finding himself distracted by Wei Ying's presence about 70 percent of the time. Eventually, he'd even worked up a small tolerance to the heat of his body so close beside him, and the way they knocked elbows every now and then, not to mention Wei Ying's increasingly familiar touches. So much so that when they separated, the entire right side of his body felt cold.

Still feels cold.

He washes the dishes methodically, allowing the tedium of his task to sooth his mind. And because he's so lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice Wei Ying behind him until he gets hip bumped him out of the way, and Wei Ying steps in to take over one half of the chore.

It's something he'll have to get used to again— Wei Ying magically appearing in his personal space.

"Let me help? They're talking about showtunes, Lan Zhan. I just can't. Someone's going to start singing Annie and my head will explode."

Wei Ying's lying. He loves showtunes, or at least he did. He'd serenaded Lan Zhan enough times for him to know.

"I remember Wei Ying being quite the drama king in high school," he remembers fondly. He'd seen every show Wei Ying starred in, eyes glued to his best friend's performance. He still had the playbills upstairs, locked in the same drawer as their old pictures.

"Hey, a guy can change. You're proof enough of that."

"Have I changed?" he asks, knowing damn well the answer to that question is a resounding yes. The better question is whether he's changed too much.

Wei Ying declines to answer, but he turns to face him, hands flicking about in the hot, soapy water. He's more serious now, showing a side few ever see.

"Are you happy, Lan Zhan? Like, in general?"

"Do I not seem happy?" That's two questions answered with a question. Why is he so defensive? Wei Ying is making an effort with him, one he doesn't need to make.

"No." Wei Ying's response is direct and honest. His stare is intense. He's seeing something that Lan Zhan is failing to hide. And, to be honest, he doesn't even want to hide it anymore.

Wei Ying continues.

"I've seen your show. A few episodes here or there. Just when they like, pop up. I'm not subscribed or anything creepy. Just, you know like when you scroll and it recommends something because you watched something similar before? Like you click an add for a cast iron skillet and all the videos are cooking related? The algorithm! That's the word. It shows you things it thinks you're interested in. Not like I'm interested in your life, or whatever. The computer thinks I am. It like, put me on a list or something.

"Anyway, I've seen a few episodes and you looked happy at first. Not anymore."

The only sound in the kitchen when he stops talking is the drip of the faucet and Lan Zhan's heavy breathing. He doesn't know how to answer him because, no, he's not happy. He hasn't been happy for a while and he thought he'd hidden it well on camera. And if he hadn't, he thought Adam at least took it out in the editing process. But then again, how many times had Wei Ying already seen straight through him?

"I didn't realize it was so glaringly obvious," he replies with a voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not," Wei Ying is quick to reassure him. "Not to most people. Or anyone that doesn't know you at least. But I see it, and you deserve better, Lan Zhan."

He considers it as he dries the last dish, rubbing the towel over the surface even though it's long been devoid of water drops. He doesn't know that he deserves better, but he wants better for himself. Maybe that's enough.

"What about you? Are you happy, Wei Ying?"

"Mostly? A-Yuan's the literal best. And I get to spend the summer with my little brat nephew, try to fix all the Jiang Cheng in him."

"A-Yuan hinted you work a lot."

"Sure. I'd work less if I could. Kids are expensive. You wouldn't know, being a DINK and all."

"What did you just call me?" He raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term. It doesn't sound particularly pleasant.

"A DINK," Wei Ying grins, splashing a bit of water at him. "Double income, no kids. Living the dream."

"I can assure you, it's no dream."

Something sad flashes in Wei Ying's eyes, but his phone starts buzzing before he can soften his words. It's an unfamiliar number with his old area code, meaning it's most likely him calling from a friend's number.

"I should— it's— I need to take this outside."

Wei Ying looks down at the phone, his features hardening. And then, without warning because Wei Ying never comes with warning, he grabs him. His forearm, and even though his hand is a little bit damp and it should bother him, Lan Zhan's entire body shudders with want.

"Lan Zhan—" Wei Ying starts, with an urgency different from his normal laid back and teasing manner.

The phone goes to voicemail and they stare at each other. Two grown men with pasts now unknown to the other, and Wei Ying pulls his hand back with a smile he's never seen before. A shy one.

"I'm um, I'm glad you're back is all. Just wanted to tell you that."

Lan Zhan wants to tell him he's wrong. He's not back. Wei Ying left first. Not him. If anyone's back, Wei Ying is back, but how does he say that without revealing the inappropriate desires swelling inside him.

The phone starts ringing again, insistent.

"Mmh. Me, too. I'll just— "

"Go ahead. I'll finish up," Wei Ying tells him, shooing him away with a joking laugh. A thin, brittle laugh that sounds a little too nervous. He doesn't know what to do with it, with any of what just happened, so he steps away to take the call.

And the spot where Wei Ying touched him— he still feels it. It burns like a brand, and it's not likely to stop any time soon.

Chapter Text

The night outside is quiet and he walks along the flowered path until he's far enough away from the main house. He wishes for privacy, as only his brother knows the true extent of his situation. The situation isn't an easy one to explain and he doesn't have the energy to defend against the many questions that will follow. It's better that no one knows, he thinks.

He takes a breath, then presses the call return button. As expected, Adam answers on the first ring.

"What the fuck, Wangji?"

"Hello, Adam. I'm returning your call."

He braces himself for the onslaught of viciousness. Adam's words are slightly slurred; he's been drinking. It's nothing he hasn't been through before but he's grateful to have the phone and several hundred miles between them. He'd been physical before when drunk and Lan Zhan often had to take it, or risk being seen as the aggressor if he defended himself. It was best not to be around him, and more often than not he locked himself in his study whenever he got the first hint he wasn't sober.

"You don't answer my texts, my calls, you haven't sent footage. I haven't heard a single fucking word since you left for Gusu. I knew this would fucking happen, Wangji!" He can hear the sounds of music in the background and wonders if he's in public. Someone could be filming him right now, and 6 months ago he would have tried to calm him down to mitigate the fallout.

Now, he almost hopes someone is recording, so that he's not the only one privy to Adam's true nature.

"I've been too busy to honor my previous commitments. I apologize."

"You're too busy? Teaching piano to some rich brats? No, that's not it. You're fucking around aren't you? Who'd you find down there?"

And here they go. He sighs, knowing if he doesn't stop this now he'll be on the phone all night.

"I can fuck anyone I please; it's no longer your concern. I'm not engaging you any further. We will resume this conversation when I return."

"Wait!" Adam's tone turns desperate. "We lost a potential sponsor, Wangji. Because you wouldn't pick up the phone and talk to me, they walked. It was good money, but people are starting to ask questions. And some of the other contracts are up for renewal, but because of the rumors they want assurance we're okay."

"We're not okay," he snaps. "And since when are we looking for new sponsors?" This was outside their original agreement. Adam's talking like they're still together, and it's worrisome. He speaks a little more softly, hoping the change of tone can get through to him. "You realize we have broken up, Adam? That we're no longer in a relationship?"

"I know you need time, Wangji. What we went through was intense, and we both need time, actually, to figure shit out. But what we have together is so good. Why should we throw it all away when we could fix it?"

He sounds delusional! What reality is he living in that there's a way to salvage a relationship that had rotted to its core?

"You think I'll take you back."

Maybe this wasn't delusion. Maybe he'd never intended on letting Lan Zhan walk away easily in January. It had probably been another ploy, just to string him along a little longer.

"This ends now. We'll work out living arrangements when I'm back. Do not call, do not text. If you reach out again, I'll be changing my number. Goodbye."

He hangs up as a stream of obscenities flow from Adam's mouth, and it takes more than a few deep breaths for his pounding heart to settle. Stumbling a few steps forward, he gives up and sits down in the grass without a care for the grass stains or the dampness of the night ground. Movement in the corner of his eye turns his head, and he sees two big eyes watching him.

Wen Qing sits on a nearby bench that had been obscured from his view by a large bush, eating from a quart sized container of ice cream. If he'd taken a few more steps before calling, he'd have noticed her. She's wearing an oversized hoodie and some flannel pajamas decorated with ninja turtles.

"I thought you had the night off," he comments.

"I do." She raises up the ice cream. "Hence the rocky road."

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Not enough to make it my business," she responds, swiping her spoon along the bottom of the container. She's quickly becoming his favorite person in the house.

"Fair enough." He leans back to look at the night sky. There are few clouds tonight, making it easy for his eyes to trace their way along the constellations. Just when he thinks she intends to let him off the hook, she speaks with a hint of amusement.

"Anyone you please, huh?"

It's all she says though, as she walks by and hands him the container. The spoon she keeps in her mouth as she reinserts her airpods and strolls back to the cabin, hips swaying to a beat he can't hear.

He looks down at the carton in his hands.It's empty.

Heavy rains steal his morning run from him the following day. Dark clouds obscure his picturesque mountain view, and it doesn't seem like it will lessen any time soon.Perhaps a day of rest would do him good.

He decides on the city library instead, hoping to get much needed preparation for Monday. Jin Ling is his first private lesson and while he knows he'll need a variation in strategy, he's ill prepared for teaching students with ADHD.

Unfortunately, the section is quite lacking. Most of the books seem rather dated and a quick skim reveals nothing he deems helpful. Some of the suggestions he reviews are more likely to hurt Jin Ling than encourage him.

"Zhan Zhan? Doth my eyes deceive me?"

The honeyed voice has a familiar owner and he raises his eyes to see a friendly face from a decade past.

"Mian Mian," he smiles, delighted at the unexpected run in. After Wei Ying, she was his closest friend from high school. They'd drifted apart sooner, and he's stabbed with a pang of guilt upon realizing he hasn't thought about her in years.

"I heard you actually came back this time, but I didn't expect to run into you!" She reaches up and wraps him in a surprisingly strong embrace considering her dainty stature. "It's so good to see you."

She looks good. Taller than he remembered, and she'd found her sense of style along the way. Her hair iscut shorter longer on one side and shaved on the other. A couple of piercings in her eyebrow seem to have grown over, but she kept a nose stud. All of it was antithetical to the quiet and introverted girl she'd been in high school.

That doesn't seem to be the case anymore.

"You look well," he compliments her, and her grin widens as she does a little twirl. Definitely not the Mian Mian of his past. This woman is confident. It almost feels as if they've swapped places, but he refuses to let the thought gain purchase.

"And you look overwhelmed. What are you trying to find here?" she pokes through some of the titles he'd flipped through, each one with a louder scoff.

"I'm teaching at the academy for the summer. There's a student that I need to connect with, but I don't know where to start," he admits with a touch of shame. "I believe he has ADHD, but he hasn't shared a diagnosis. Since his symptoms seem similar, I was hoping to learn some teaching methods that could apply to him."

"Oof. That's a tough one." She thinks for a moment, tapping her finger on the pile of books. "How about impromptu coffee? I've got some resources from a workshop we did last year upstairs. I just need to check my office."

He realizes belatedly that she's dressed in a pale blue shirt with Gusu Public Library embroidered on the top right shoulder.

"You're a librarian!"

She laughs, giving him a sly wink.

"Correction, I'm a hot librarian. Very important distinction. Meet me in the cafe, I'll go grab what we'll need." She strolls off in the opposite direction, nodding her head politely at those she passes by.

The cafe is smaller than he remembers, but there's one suitable table left in the back corner. The space is filling up, the rain probably affecting everyone else's Saturday plans as well.

She arrives with a stack of printouts and places them in his hands. They seem to be well organized and sorted. Perhaps she hadn't lost complete touch with her high school self, he smiles to himself.

"This is just a jumping off point. Much of the information you'll need is digital. I've got a list of websites and content creators that you can use for the majority of your needs."

He's impressed at how quickly she switches from old friend to helpful neighborhood librarian. Despite all of her changes and growing self confidence, she still has the aura of peace that made him feel safe in her company. It's almost like no time has passed between them at all.

After a while, he notices a glint in her eye and she looks like she wants to ask something. It's nothing he's not used to, he's actually surprised she's lasted this long before asking about the YouTube channel.

"Have you seen Wei Ying?" she asks instead, and it knocks him off balance. And the look that accompanies her question, it's the same as the one Xichen gives when he knows he's prying, but asks anyway.

"Mmh. His nephew is the reason I'm here. I'll be mentoring both Jin Ling and A-Yuan for the summer program."

Her face lights up and she slaps him on the arm a little too hard.

"That's awesome! You'll have to get me a ticket; I'd love to see it."

He gets the feeling she's not just saying it, that she'd actually enjoy watching the performance. He makes a note to add her name as a personal guest.

"So have you guys like, reconnected?" She asks, a little more hopefully, trailing her finger in lazy circles on the table.

"Mmh. We've talked. He came to dinner last night with the boys. It was… strange? It felt like nothing's changed for him. I'm not sure he even missed me." The words were out before he could stop them, but he was more concerned with the truth of them.

Maybe he felt less guarded around Mian Mian. She'd always had that effect on him asshe was the only one to guess his feelings for his best friend in school. She'd been an unexpected but very welcome comfort him through the "straight best friend crush", and held his hand the best she could.

Just like back then, she's helped him uncover what has been bothering him since the day he saw him again. Wei Ying had been Wei Ying. Honed with time but not changed. Comfortable in his skin and living a good life. He might have been a little surprised to see him again, but Lan Zhan's appearance hadn't rocked him in the same way. It felt as if the years that had passed didn't matter to him.

"That's bullshit," Mianmian laughs. "I know for a fact he's missed you."

"How can you be so sure?"

Hope blooms at her words, but he tries to resist it, just as he tries to resist the pull of his feelings every time he's in Wei Ying's proximity.

She takes a long sip of her tea, evaluating him as she swallows. Then, "The pots."

He raises his eyebrow in confusion. The pots?

"What?"

"A few years ago your boyfriend bought this pots and pans set. They were all over your channel," she reminds him. This is the first time she's mentioned his other life, and it takes him back. He'd foolishly hoped she didn't know of it. "Always cooked with them, made you all these fancy meals and surprised you with them."

His groan gets the attention of the nearby tables.

"I remember. They were horrible. I made him throw them out after using them one time." There were bits of non stick coating in the food. He suspects Adam only pretended to use them in the videos. "But they paid for a year's worth of rent," he says with barely contained sarcasm.

"Yeah, well. Wei Ying bought them. He was so mad after the first week. He'd been swindled and told anyone that would listen. But he was mostly angry at Adam, maintaining you never used them so you weren't to be blamed. He was out 200 dollars and still defended your good name."

Wei Ying had bought the pots? He feels a lump rising in his throat and drinks his tea to soothe it back down. How does the thought make him so deliriously happy and heart shatteringly sad at the same time? Imagining him so upset afterward, he wants to laugh at the same time he wants to—

"And then there were the canceled visits," she continues, oblivious to Lan Zhan's emotional see-saw. "Soon after Wei Ying moved back, you were supposed to visit. It was around the time of your uncle's retirement, when Xichen took the reins."

He remembers. Adam had agreed at first, only to grow increasingly upset the closer it got to the travel date. He'd gotten "ill". Not physically, there was no fever and his other symptoms felt forced. But he'd also refused to eat, so Lan Zhan had canceled and rescheduled.

"Mmh. I remember."

"Well, Wei Ying had wanted to surprise you. It was all he talked about for a while, but something must have happened and you didn't come. Wangji, he was crushed. I think he thought you guys could reconnect. That if you saw each other in person, it would be like old times again.

"After the next few trips were also canceled, Xichen stopped letting him know and Wei Ying stopped asking. And your channel was popular at the time, but then you guys kind of blew up. We all stopped holding our breath for you to come back.

"So, it's not nothing for him," she grabs his hand as she tells him this. "He may act like everything's cool, but I know he's freaking out to have you back."

If what Mian Mian's saying is true, Wei Ying's confusion at their first meeting suddenly makes sense. Xichen hadn't told him because he didn't trust him to come. No one had trusted him to come. That must be why they kept repeating it. "It's so good to see you Wangji. We're so glad you came."

Lan Zhan is the reason why.

"Wangji, I know things were hard back in high school. I know how much it hurts to be friends with someone you're in love with. But things are different now. You've got Adam and this awesome life. Wei Ying is settled as well. Maybe it'll be easier now just to be friends."

She doesn't know. He reminds himself she doesn't know. Still, the words cut him deeply. Just be friends. How amazing would his life be if he could just be friends with Wei Ying? Enjoy all the things he loves about him without the asterisk. Without imagining more.

"Maybe so," he says, but the words are paper thin in his mouth. He doesn't mean them, and he wonders if she can see that, too.

He spends the rest of the weekend reviewing the information and watching the resources Mian Mian had provided him. When Monday comes, he feels like he has a small foundation to stand on. It's not much, but hopefully enough to keep the boy engaged.

He'd forgotten how poorly Jin Ling plays piano, but the child is quick to remind him. They need to revisit the absolute basics and he hopes that the boy doesn't grow annoyed at repeating something he's already explored. Instead of framing it that way, he decides to make a game out of it and finds it's rather effective at getting Jin Ling's attention.

They spend the majority of the first class working on hand positioning and reading sheet music, switching back and forth when the boy showed signs of disengagement. By the end of the lesson, it's obvious that while Jin Ling tried very hard, he just couldn't identify with the songs Lan Zhan had chosen. He gives him homework to pick three songs of his skill level and they'll work on those the next session.

Wei Ying pokes his head in as they wrap up, giving Jin Ling a high five the boy acts too cool to accept. (He does anyway, just before he heads off to meet his friends.)

"You were really good with him."

Wei Ying seems a little stunned.

"I should hope so." He straightens the area, cleaning up the sheet music and setting the piano lid down gently.

"No, I mean like, you were really good with him. A lot of his teachers struggle." He leans back against the chalkboard, not caring what might end up on the back of his shirt. It's so much like him that he feels a pang of nostalgia.

"I did some research on teaching students with ADHD. Some of the things I learned helped today, but we didn't make much progress. I hope to have better results next session."

"I saw the smile on his face, Lan Zhan. You can't say you didn't have progress."

It's close enough to praise that he feels the tale tell signs of a blush coming. He's so easy for this man, it's embarrassing.

"Did you research just for him?"

"I took him on as a student. I have an obligation to teach him, Wei Ying."

"Yeah, no I get it. But you're not charging him anything. You could have just phoned it in like everyone else does."

"And that wouldn't be fair to either of us. He'll represent my abilities at the end of summer presentation," Lan Zhan reminds him.

Wei Ying grins, leaning forward a little bit. He's crossed his arms over his chest, and Lan Zhan tries not to look at his exposed, tanned skin where his shirtsleeves ride up. Which means he's looking at the intensity within those gunmetal eyes and it's so much worse.

"That's just for fun though," he teases. "No one really takes it seriously. It's for the kids."

His throat is dry, he attempts a swallow. "Anything worth doing—"

Wei Ying cuts him off with a horrible impression of his uncle. "—Is worth doing well. I know, Lan Qiren. I'm just impressed, is all. It's nice to see you in action again. I've forgotten how much you put into everything you do."

"Well, it's nice to feel passionate about something again," he admits, then bites his tongue. He shouldn't say things like that, not around Wei Ying. He'll see the opening and worm his way through. Well, if he cares enough to.

He doesn't take the opening. Instead he looks him up and down, thoughtfully. "It looks nice on you." He used to know Wei Ying's every expression. They were simple to read, and he never tried to disguise them. Not from Lan Zhan at least. He must have learned how, somewhere in the last ten years, because he can't read him now.

"Anyway, I promised the boys ice cream on the way home. I should get going. See you around, Lan Zhan!" With a wink and a wave he's gone again, Lan Zhan reeling in his wake.

Dinner is a small affair, just himself and Uncle as Xichen has a prior engagement scheduled with some of the school's patrons.

He makes his own dishes as usual, sharing the kitchen easily with Wen Qing. They've worked out quite a rhythm, wordlessly passing the ingredients they need back and forth. She's about four degrees warmer, no longer giving him judgmental looks but not engaging in conversation either. He wonders how long it will take for the ice to crack.

As he sautees his tofu triangles, he's reminded of Wei Ying in his own kitchen, swearing at the cookware while wearing a pout of indignation, and a low chuckle escapes him. Wen Qing merely looks at him like he's crazy before returning attention back to her own pan.

Dinner passes in familiar silence. Apart from the tapping of their chopsticks against their plates, the only other noise is the clattering of dishes as Wen Qing cleans the kitchen. It's only once their meal is done that his uncle inquires about his progress so far.

He glosses over most of it, highlighting the best parts, including how receptive the students have been to his teachings. How it's nice to be tired after a day of work again. His brain feels utilized and he'd forgotten the feeling.

Lan Qiren listens quietly, sipping his after dinner tea. Every now and then nodding his head. Even smiling when he discussed Jin Ling's antics.

He doesn't mention his other life, and his uncle doesn't ask. It hangs over him though, with the ticking of a clock only he can hear.

Wen Qing interrupts them with after dinner cookies, and he's shocked to see her place one of the plates in front of him. "I had extra," she tells him. "I'd have to throw them away otherwise." Then she disappears back into the kitchen without a second glance.

It's a pleasant dinner, even without Xichen to be their buffer. It's only after he's withdrawn to his room that he realizes he hadn't asked his uncle any questions about himself. The man had just been content to hear him speak. It's something he'll have to change in the future. He finds he's curious to know what his uncle's life is like after retirement; it's bothersome he doesn't already know.

In the quiet of his room, his mind returns to that brief little moment after Jin Ling's session. It's a pattern of late. Wake up, run, go to work, see Wei Ying, and think about him incessantly until their next encounter. He's falling back into the trap he meant to avoid, but it feels so good to hold him in his mind. It's no substitute for the real thing of course, but it's all he can have.

He should be dating. If he could transfer these feelings to someone else, even a nameless man he could pick up easily at a night club or a bar, maybe he could get past it again. Adam prevented that measure, of course. The fallout if he was caught wasn't worth it. They might not be together, but the world doesn't know it.

As he ruminates, his eyes keep landing on the drawer. His subconscious knows. And after the fifth time of finding himself staring at it, he walks over and lets his fingers graze over the knob. His hands know.

Fine. If he can't get over it, why not torture himself? Maybe he could fully immerse himself in the longing and overdose on it. Grow sick of it. Maybe he could just open it—

He pulls it open and there they are, staring up at him. He finds more pictures than he remembered keeping. They're neatly stacked and wrapped with a red ribbon similar to the one Wei Ying used to wear.

He flips through them, and quite a few make him shudder. Was he not more subtle than this? He thought he'd hidden those emotions well but with the evidence in his hand, he has to admit he'd been childishly naive to think so. The shots where he looked at Wei Ying, the love in his eyes is readily apparent.

These pictures are a full blown love confession.

There are a couple, here and there, where Wei Ying looks at him, and his expression isn't much different. Love is love, he reckons. Theirs just came from different places.

He sets the pictures back in the drawer and closes it before his heart remembers what it's like to want too much.

Or remembers it any more than it already has.

His session with A-Qing goes much easier for him, no doubt due to ger natural talent and adeptness at reading sheet music. She rushes though, seemingly in a hurry to be the best.

"Sometimes it's faster to make progress by slowing down, as odd as it sounds," he tells her after a particularly rough stretch.

"Like the tortoise and the hare," she affirms, and makes a solid effort to reign herself in. They slow it down, and despite her frustration she's still her happy self by the end of the session.

Xichen watches from the doorway for a while, nodding along with his instruction and even making a few notes on his cell phone while he observes his brother working.

"She's got the makings of a prodigy," he comments with pride.

"You say that about every student," Lan Zhan chuckles, but he's not annoyed. His brother sees the best in everyone; it's one of the things he's always admired about him.

A box sits on the table and Xichen gestures to it. He'd brought it along, and when Lan Zhan opens it, he finds it filled with some old video tapes and workbooks.

"Do me a favor and drop these off at the dance studio?"

Lan Zhan checks his watch. It's already getting late as A-Qing's lesson had run long. He'd wanted to spend some time composing before heading back.

"You can't do it, ge?"

"He's got a class right now I don't want to interrupt and I've got a parents' meeting right after. It'll just take a second, didi. Help me out?" Xichen gives that sheepish grin and of course he folds.

The halls are eerily empty as he carts the box through them, and after a couple of turns he spies Wei Ying through the dance room's floor to ceiling windows. His brother had been mistaken or outright lied. There's no class and Wei Ying is alone, his graceful form somehow using the entirety of the large room.

His movements are fluid, but controlled. At first it seems he moves through the space effortlessly, but that's betrayed by the flexing and tensing of his muscles, the skin tight leotard leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination. He is beauty personified, but even that word does him no justice. Lan Zhan doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until the music ends and Wei Ying collapses on the soft ground below, chest heaving as he comes back to his body.

He lets him rest for a few beats before stepping in.

"Spying on me, Lan Er-gege?" Wei Ying asks, slightly out of breath and not even bothering to lift his head. He hasn't called him that since they were kids, and Lan Zhan tries not to give his reaction to the phrase away.

"Brother asked me to bring this by."

Wei Ying eyes the box and shoots up unexpectedly. "Gifts for moi? Gimmegimmegimme!" He lopes toward him with grabby hands and some sort of primal instinct has him raising the box over the man's head.

Wei Ying's eyes flash with determination. Because of the few inches between them, he fails on his first attempt to get the box when Lan Zhan matches his jump. It hovers out of reach, andWei Ying's face scrunches with determination. He exploits those extra inches of height for all their worth to tease him, just like when they were kids, and it feels right.

Until Wei Ying stumbles and falls against him, pushing both their bodies towards the glass wall. And then it feels right in a very wrong way.

Now the hard lines of Wei Ying's body press against him. He's searing hot, drenched in perspiration from his exercise and everything invades Lan Zhan's senses at once. He's covered in him.

Lowering the box, he awkwardly hands it over as Wei Ying pulls away with a rare look of embarrassment. "Sorry, I uh, kinda tripped there."

"Mmh." He doesn't know what to say; he's still swimming in the memory of his heat.

Fortunately, Wei Ying's attention is diverted to the contents of the box and he squeals with excitement. "He said he had all my old tapes and workbooks. I didn't believe him! Look! I was so cute!" He holds up one of the old workbooks with atrocious penmanship and silly doodles adorning the pages. "Look how cute I was, Lan Zhan!"

Lan Zhan doesn't need a visual reminder to know it, but he looks anyway. He thumbs through the pages and his heart swells as he's reminded of Jin Ling again. He'd been unfairly hard on the boy and is thankful he'd known how to advocate for himself. How much of the boy's spirit had come from his uncle?

"Mmh. Wei Ying was very cute."

"You didn't think so back then," he mock pouts. "What was it you called me all the time? Shameless?"

"Wei Ying was very cute and very shameless. The two are not mutually exclusive."

He wants to brush the hair back from his face— a stray strand almost tickles his mouth. It almost makes him jealous.

"Lan Zhan! You wound me! I was no such thing. You were the shameless one."

"I beg your pardon?" He tilts his head, waiting for an explanation. Wei Ying's eyes grow big, and he takes another small step back.

"Oh, um, nothing. You're right. I was definitely the shameless one." He changes the subject quickly, bouncing backwards on his heels like he does when he can't fidget with his hands. "A-Ling can't stop talking about his lesson, which is getting A-Yuan all riled up. I could hardly get the two to sleep last night. I have a feeling they're going to compete against each other."

"They both have potential," Lan Zhan acknowledges, "but I fear it would serve neither to make comparisons. They're not at the same starting line. I'd hate for Jin Ling to grow discouraged."

"I know, I tried to remind them of that. You know how boys are though. Remember how we used to compete over everything?"

"I remember Wei Ying trying to compete with me. I don't remember reciprocating."

"Cold, Lan Zhan. You were the most competitive kid in school."

"Against my own performance," he points out. "I always celebrated Wei Ying's wins."

"What, like the two times I won against you?" Wei Ying is laughing, shaking his head at the memories. It feels so good to see him like this. Lan Zhan wants to keep him this way. Unguarded and open.

There's no where safe to look right now. The leotard hides nothing, and the flush of his skin from his dance reminds Lan Zhan of a different kind of blush. One he'd thought about putting there himself and he was stupid for falling into his brother's trap. These thoughts are wasted on Wei Ying. They should be spent on someone that could reciprocate them. Someone that wanted to touch Lan Zhan just as badly.

And still, he can't pull himself away. He clears his throat, hoping Wei Ying hadn't been able to read his errant thoughts.

"That was your own fault. You spent much more time socializing when you should have been studying."

"Fair." Wei Ying concedes the point, waving his hands in a symbol of surrender. "That's why you've got the cool apartment downtown," he winks.

The sudden reminder of the real distance between them crashes his mood and reality hits back full force.

"Not my apartment," he mumbles. "I just live there."

It keeps happening. He keeps spilling these small details no one asked for. Small hints that his perfect life is a lie. And he knows there's a part of him that wants Wei Ying to know. That wonders what his reaction would be if he knew Adam wasn't a part of his life anymore.

"Oh."

It's all he says. Wei Ying looks at him more thoughtfully now. Like he's trying to judge the appropriate response and can't quite find it.

"I should get home," Lan Zhan says, ending the subject."I've got things to prepare for tomorrow."

The mood is ruined, and staying any longer will lead to questions he doesn't want to answer.

"Sure, no biggie. I'll see you tonight at dinner then?"

"Dinner?" He doesn't remember making dinner plans with Wei Ying. That is not something that would slip his mind. That is something he would have thought about all day, so he knows he's not crazy to question it.

"Xichen invited me. Did he not tell you? He said he had some things to discuss about recruiting for next semester."

It is a weak excuse. There are plenty of opportunities for the two to talk, especially with the lighter workload of summer courses. Plus, recruiting for next semester should have been solidified before the summer session even began.

He eyes the box that "couldn't wait" on the table and curses his brother internally. It seems he will have to grow used to Wei Ying's presence sooner rather than later. Perhaps all the meddling will result in a kind of exposure therapy that can lessen his sensitivity towards the man, though it hadn't quite worked that way in the past. Diving into that picture box surely hadn't helped. The opposite, in fact. He shoves the thought down.

"Mmh. Dinner then. See you tonight."

"Great! It's a date!" Wei Ying grins, then his face freezes in horror at what he'd just said. "I mean, you know, not like a date. Because you're — I'm— Xichen will be there. Not that it would be a date anyway. You know what? Sometimes I rhyme things. Date. Eight. Late. Fate. Great. Gods, I have to stop. I'm going to— No, you're leaving. Because you have things—"

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan cuts him off, which is less rude and more giving a drowning man a life line. "I will see you tonight."

Wei Ying gulps, breathless from his rant and waves instead of opening his mouth again— understandably. And as he leaves, slipping out the door and reluctantly leaving him behind, he wonders at the last minute and a half.

Wei Ying wasn't awkward. He was self assured. The world was his proverbial oyster. But just then, Lan Zhan hadn't been imagining it.

Had Wei Ying been nervous?

Chapter Text

"Wow, I feel like I was just here!"

Wei Ying bounds into the house with a big grin, tossing his jacket to Lan Zhan. The awkwardness from before must have been left on the dance room floor, he notes with mixed emotion. He still wonders what it meant.

"You were," he deadpans, giving his brother a long stare as he hangs the well loved jacket in the coat closet.

Xichen only smiles innocently, inviting Wei Ying into the den and handing him a glass of Emperor's Smile once he takes his seat.

"Pulling out all the stops, I see." Wei Ying takes a decadent sip and his eyes roll back in his head. "How is it better every time?"

A snappy retort stalls on his lips as his uncle enters the room and he shoots a worried look at Xichen. What sort of oversight is this? Wei Ying and his uncle are oil and water. Had he forgotten to warn him?

He prepares himself to step in, but Wei Ying slams the glass down first and jumps to his feet. "Uncle Q!"

Uncle Q?

He holds his arms out wide and Lan Zhan watches in abject horror as he wraps the man in a bear hug, his feet coming off the ground about a centimeter for a hot second. His uncle freezes initially, then succumbs to the assault and patting Wei Ying on the back.

Wei Ying just bear hugged his uncle, and even more shockingly his uncle allowed it. The same man who hovered over him in school, admonishing him for the slightest misstep. The same man who'd treated him with disdain for fidgeting in class, or speaking too loudly, or breaking any one of the thousand plus rules he'd set in place over the years.

"How many times have I told you a handshake will suffice when you insist upon touch?" There's no ire in his uncle's voice, only affection. If he didn't know any better, he'd say they were friends.

Xichen's gaze turns to him, and his smile is ever amused.

"Next time, next time. Xichen didn't tell me you'd be eating with us. Are you thinking a rematch?" Wei Ying gestures to the Go board in the corner, but his uncle dismisses the idea with a wave of his hand.

"I've learned my lesson. Xichen might be fool enough to play you though. Wangji," he greets, turning towards him. "How were your lessons?"

It's his turn to talk. All eyes are on him but he's still trying to understand the upside down world he's somehow wandered into. One where apparently Wei Ying's filled the best friend opening he left behind with his own uncle. "Fine," he manages after a tense moment of silence. "All went smoothly… You two seem to get along well these days."

He makes the observation from a spot opposite his uncle and a good distance from Wei Ying. With less people, it's harder for Xichen to work his tricks.

His uncle nods his head and takes his seat in the wingback chair. "Wei Ying helped himself to landscaping the gardens several years back, and in my attempts to shoo him off the property, we formed a sort of understanding."

Wei Ying throws his head back and laughs. "How many times do I have to remind you that Xichen hired me to landscape? Lan Zhan, I thought your uncle was going to kill me the first time he saw me out there. Like I was burgling him in reverse or something."

"You were certainly stealing my peaceful Saturday mornings," Qiren grumbles.

"You're the landscaper?" Lan Zhan finds himself shocked once again. How embedded in Lan Zhan's life has he been? His stomach is growing weak and he's not entirely sure why. Perhaps it's the memory of his uncle's aversion to their friendship as a teen, yet now the two practically have their own special handshake and it's Lan Zhan that looks in from the outside.

"I still maintain fault in the matter," Xichen interjects. "I should have informed uncle I was outsourcing the duties."

Both Wei Ying and his uncle look like they have a rebuttal, but Wen Qing chooses that moment to enter. Good, at least the mood can mellow out a little.

"Qingqing!" Wei Ying jumps up and gives bear hug number two. Apparently the mood won't be mellowing. The ice princess from the kitchen all but melts in Wei Ying's grasp, a smile spreading over her face that he'd yet to witness. It's actually quite stunning, and he averts his eyes knowing if she wanted him to see it, she'd give it to him freely.

"A-Xian! Xichen told me you were coming. I took another stab at your sister's recipe. Tell me if it's any better?"

"I can already tell you it's perfect." He bats his eyes at her and Lan Zhan isn't sure who he's jealous of in this situation. Maybe it's everyone. He feels distinctly out of place.

"You two know each other?" The look on his face must be telling, because Wen Qing shoots him a dangerous look and he decides it's best to watch his words.

Wei Ying nods his head emphatically, tossing an arm around the tiny woman. "She's my soul sister. He hasn't been rude to you, has he Qing Qing?"

"He's been okay," she sniffs dramatically, her turn to amp up the doe eyes.

"Lan Zhan! You better treat her well, for your uncle's sake if not mine." The tone is good humored but it's serious. Lan Zhan eyes her cooly and she has the audacity to smirk at him.

"He's a hard nut to crack, Qing Qing. Just be patient with him; he'll come around."

She's looking at him intently, as if she's waiting for him to toss her under the bus. He won't. He's not stupid enough to lose the progress he's made with her so far. Instead he forces a smile. "Would you like my help in the kitchen?" Am I making my own dinner again tonight?

She correctly interprets the question and accepts his invitation. He leaves the other three to chat, knowing the act of cooking will at least soothe his frayed nerves.

As per their usual arrangement, she stirs the soup as he throws together a quick stir fry in a now comfortable silence. Every so often Wei Ying's voice will travel through— either a soulful laugh or a gasp of surprise. He tenses every time he hears him; he's pretty confident she notices.

While it's no less comfortable than before, she's not wearing the airpods tonight. He's not sure if it's an invitation to talk or her way of putting on airs for Wei Ying, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets her have the lead on conversation if she so chooses.

It's not until he's plating that she says something, tapping the flat blade of a chef's knife against her palm. Whether or not she intends the visual, she looks terrifying.

"He's my best friend, you know."

Lan Zhan nods, eyes not moving from the blade. "Mmh. I gathered."

"It's good you know."

Absolutely terrifying.

—

He can't get a word in edgewise during dinner. Wei Ying insists Wen Qing eat with them and she happily obliges. He can't help but notice her plate is filled with the extra stir fry he'd made for himself and she mutters something under her breath about good food going to waste so he doesn't press the issue. 

Wei Ying and Xichen do actually talk about recruiting initiatives for female applicants and Wen Qing chimes in quite a bit. "You have no female instructors. Doesn't that speak volumes?"

The men just look at each other as if they'd never quite considered it to be a problem.

"We've haven't received any qualified resumes," Xichen muses, growing quiet as he thinks. "Our last female instructor decided not to return after maternity leave."

"And why was that?" Wen Qing asks pointedly.

Xichen gives her a deer in the headlights stare. "I don't know."

She's obviously not satisfied with his answer and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and looking at him with a hint of judgment.

"So it's possible you might have been able to accommodate her needs, but you never asked and she didn't feel comfortable making the request?"

Xichen blinked, abashed. "Yes. It's entirely possible. Perhaps we need to do some serious introspection. Wen Qing, I would love to pick your brain a little more."

Lan Zhan probably shouldn't have interjected, but something bothered him about the situation. He and Wen Qing weren't exactly on the best of terms, but it was the height of rudeness for his brother to put such an obligation on her when it wasn't her role or responsibility.

"You should invite her to the academy in an official capacity. If Wen Qing is going to advise you, she should be compensated fairly for her time."

Everyone stops and looks at Lan Zhan, and at first he thinks he's ruffled feathers better left untouched. Then he catches Wen Qing cough away her smile and Wei Ying's nod of encouragement.

"That's quite the idea, Wangji. Yes, I suppose I shall. Please let me know what times would work for you, Wen Qing."

—

After dinner, Xichen suggests Wei Ying give Lan Zhan a tour of the gardens, something he's much more interested to see with his newfound knowledge. Knowing Wei Ying was behind the landscaping made him curious to see it with fresh eyes.

Wei Ying laughs as they walk, recalling Lan Zhan's record scratch moment at dinner. "I thought I was going to have to give your uncle the Heimlich maneuver."

"I just happened to think it was ironic, trying to solve the problem of recruiting women by utilizing the free labor of the only woman they'd bothered to consult."

"Wow." Wei Ying shakes his head. "You're a breath of fresh air, Lan Zhan. I can see why Wen Qing likes you so much."

An undignified yelp escapes his lips. "I don't think I'd go that far."

While his uncle's house is modest, it sits on five acres of land. Much of it is kept wild, but Wei Ying's painted a good portion of it with his flair. They walk slowly, Wei Ying pointing out the plants he'd chosen and why, or stopping to have Lan Zhan smell a particular flower.

They pause by the gentian garden, and Wei Ying shoots Lan Zhan a nervous look. "I basically went off the sketch Xichen gave me. But I used the best of everything. Even installed a sprinkler system I can monitor remotely."

He's babbling like he does when he's unsure of himself, and Wangji's too speechless to stop him.

It's the spitting image of the garden his mother had nurtured just beyond her bedroom windows. He was young when he lost his parents, and he doesn't have a wealth of memories, but the gentian garden had persisted through time. Xichen had recreated the image perfectly, and Wei Ying had brought that image to life.

"Wei Ying, it's beautiful. Everything you've done here is incredible." He wants to say more, but how could he? Wei Ying has once again made him speechless.

"Well, I had to do a good job. This contract pays our rent. Oh! Have you seen the fountain? I have to show you."

He grabs Lan Zhan's hand and suddenly they're running. The tendrils of Wei Ying's hair that have escaped his bun bounce around him, and the movement feels good. His hand in Wei Ying's feels even better. Not strange, not awkward. Just as natural as ever, like they were always meant to be touching.

Like they'd resumed a sentence that never ended.

The fountain lives in a rather secluded part of the grounds. "Lan Qiren wanted a nice area to meditate, so I made sure to find a space surrounded by brush. You can really only hear the water."

He's staring at a rock sculpture of two bunnies, water arching out of their mouths. One looks— to his untrained eye — to be black granite, and the other white marble. They face each other with happy expressions.

"He said the bunnies reminded him of you," Wei Ying mentions, his eyes soft as he watches Lan Zhan take in the sight. He gasps as he notices motion in the pond. A turtle pokes his head out, and he realizes there are several more dotting the pond.

"Remember the snapping turtle I found? I chased you around with it and you pushed us both into the pond. I felt like I stank for weeks. You were so mad. 'Turtles are not for playing, Wei Ying'," He gives an over the top imitation of child Lan Zhan. "I didn't think you were ever going to talk to me again."

His smile is infectious as he relives the memory and the only thing Lan Zhan can think about is pulling him closer and kissing the grin off his face. Wei Ying is everywhere. In his house, in his gardens, in his memories and in his heart. The only place he isn't is in his arms and the absence of him physically hurts.

He has to catch himself. This isn't supposed to be happening. He's not supposed to be falling for him again, and even if it is inevitable, even if he will always eventually fall for Wei Ying, why is it happening this quickly?

Why can't he have a moment where they can just be friends? It's what Wei Ying wants. Lan Zhan reminds himself often that he never asked for more. Friendship, companionship, a platonic love was all Wei Ying ever expressed a desire for, and still Lan Zhan's wasted heart keeps trying.

If Wei Ying really is to be part of his life again, and it seems that way by how interwoven into his family he's become, he has to find a way to compartmentalize. The feelings have got to stop bleeding through.

"We should go back. I have an early morning," he says abruptly, wanting to kick himself the second Wei Ying's smile starts to fade.

"Oh yeah, of course. Sorry, I talked way too much. Character flaw," he sings, but his tone is flat.

"Not too much. I enjoyed seeing your work."

The smile comes back, but not nearly as big.

They start walking back, but Wei Ying stops abruptly. The sun set a while ago, and it's only the moonlight lighting their path. It hits the edges of him, turning him into a darkened silhouette. The garden lights are thin here, and it's hard to make out his expression, but he hears it in his voice. Wei Ying speaks in earnest.

"Lan Zhan, do you think we could ever be friends again? Like before? I mean, I know things are different now. You've got your life out there and I know how busy you are. And you've got your partner now. I know I won't be your number one. But it would be nice to be able to call you again every now and then. Not too much, I wouldn't bug you. I don't think."

"Wei Ying."

It's an honest plea, and one he doesn't deserve. Friends don't keep things from each other, especially not the big things. It makes him wonder— should he just tell him? No. That's not the question. The question is why hasn't he told him? He's not going back to Adam. That part of his life is done. He'd only stayed silent at his ex's request, but now he suspects that was another manipulation. A way to make it easier for Adam to keep him under his thumb.

"It's not real."

Once the words are out, relief follows in a wave that nearly knocks him down. He's said it. It's out, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. The world's still spinning. The crickets still chirp. But his shoulders feel that much lighter and he almost laughs, wishing he'd said it sooner. 

"Huh?" Wei Ying cocks his head, trying to understand what Lan Zhan has just dropped in his lap without context.

"All of it. It hasn't been real for a while. Adam and I are no longer together. We're just waiting until January to make the announcement."

"So you're broken up? Like for good? You're not getting back together?"

"No. There's no chance of reconciliation."

"So you've been lying to everyone." Wei Ying doesn't miss the way he winces, and immediately puts his hand on his shoulder. The warmth and weight of it is comforting and he leans into the touch ever so slightly.

"I didn't mean it like that. I know how much you hate lying, and I hate that he's making you do it." Once again, Lan Zhan is reminded of the purity of Wei Ying's heart. He still takes his side, even after Lan Zhan admits he hasn't been truthful.

"Not everyone. Brother knows. He's been supportive through it all."

"But not your uncle?"

"Not yet, though I'm sure he'll be thrilled at the news. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone before the announcement in January."

"You have to be tied to that asshole that long?" Wei Ying's voice carries, and he covers his mouth too late. "Sorry, I just. It sucks Lan Zhan. That guys never been good enough for you. This whole situation just blows."

Never been good enough. If anyone else said it, Lan Zhan would take it as a kindness. But Wei Ying said it, so he scours through the words to see what's underneath them. Wei Ying thinks about things like that? About men being good enough for him? He cares?

Lan Zhan doesn't know how to respond, so he lets the silence talk for him. Wei Ying kicks the gravel with his foot, and few loose stones go flying. "You guys really aren't getting back together?"

"Like I said. Not a chance."

He wants to frame the grin that spreads across Wei Yings face. "Okay good because I really fucking hate that dude. And I was nervous to say anything but he's the worst Lan Zhan! What did you even see in him?"

"He wasn't always like that," he says quietly. "Over the past few years things have changed."

"Hey, you don't have to talk about it. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone off on him like that. However you feel about him is valid." Wei Ying struggles with the last part of that statement.

"I've had a while to adjust. Our breakup isn't fresh."

"So, what I'm hearing is you've got a best friend opening?"

It's— an odd thing to say. He doesn't quite understand why his relationship with Adam would preclude having a best friend, or preclude Wei Ying from being that best friend. Unless the opening he really wants to fill— Again. He's doing it again— trying to make himself hear words Wei Ying never said.

"It's yours if you want it," he answers instead.

Wei Ying tosses his arm around his shoulders and they walk back to the house like that. His heart wants hand in hand, and his body wants something far less innocent. But it's closer than they've been in years and he'll take it.

He thinks about Mian Mian's words and wonders if it really will be easier this time. It he'll be able to just be friends without losing his heart. He decides that being close again with Wei Ying is worth it, no matter how much pain comes after.

—

Xichen waits patiently for his return, and hands him a mug of warm water after he says his goodbye to Wei Ying for the evening.

"Have a seat by the fire," Xichen invites, and they listen to the crackle while his water cools enough to drink.

It's Xichen that speaks first.

"You two looked chummy."

"Spying again, ge?"

"Just wondering what kept you in the gardens so long." There's kindness in his gaze, but also curiosity.

"I told him the truth."

"About Adam?" Xichen looks taken aback. Perhaps he hadn't expected it, considering how Lan Zhan had sworn him to utmost secrecy.

"Mmh."

"Why now?" Xichen's gaze is piercing. He feels a nervousness creeping up his spine, like he's being evaluated. Kind as his brother is, his sharp eyes miss nothing.

"We've decided to be best friends again. It seems wrong to keep secrets."

"Best friends," Xichen repeats softly. "And you're satisfied with that?" He feels transparent; surely his brother sees right through him. But can he say anything else? Best friends is what Wei Ying offered him. He knows what nothing feels like, and he doesn't want to return back to it.

"I've missed him. It will be nice to have him back in my life, in any capacity."

"There was a time you wanted more than friendship." He's surprised to hear Xichen mention it. They haven't explicitly talked about it since he left and Xichen has danced around it ever since.

"Ge," he warns. "We are friends. Nothing more."

"So if Wei Ying were to start, I don't know, dating again… You wouldn't be bothered by that at all?"

He's taken back to that restaurant. Wei Ying sitting in the booth he'd reserved with a girl by his side. Smiling a nervous smile and rising as Lan Zhan approached with his stomach sinking lower each step he took.

The tremble in Wei Ying's voice when he introduced the girl sitting next to him. The way he'd stumbled over an excuse to leave, to get as far away as possible before the tears started falling.

"Why are you digging up old wounds?" It's just hot water in his mug, but it grows bitter in his mouth. He feels the itch to run again, but Xichen places his hand on his knee to keep him there.

"Because ten years have done nothing to dull the way you look at him, didi. You're still in love with him, aren't you?" And there it is. Right to the heart. Xichen isn't pulling any punches tonight.

"It doesn't matter how I feel." The first tears start to fall and he stubbornly wipes them away. Xichen will see them, he can't hide it. All he can do is turn his face, like he used to as a child.

Xichen sighs, leaning back in his chair and holding the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He's so similar to their uncle like this. Frustrated, trying to find the right words to speak.

"Wangji, I asked you to come home because I'm worried about you. Those videos… there's no life behind your eyes in them. The last year or so, when I watch them, it's like looking at mother. A caged bird, used for decoration." Xichen's voice grows agitated, and he balls his fists. "He uses you for views, shows you off like a prized pig. Wangji, it's like you weren't even there. You were just.. hollow.

"I've been thinking of how to get you out of that apartment long enough to breathe again. And I thought reconnecting with Wei Ying, giving you the opportunity to teach what you love to a new generation… I thought it would give you something. Maybe not the life you want, but enough to let you cut ties with one that's suffocating you.

"But I see the way you look at him, and I'm scared I've just found another way to cause you pain. I don't know what to do, Wangji. I don't want you to end up without anyone by your side."

Xichen's crying, too, now, and thin tears glisten as they trail down his cheeks. Lan Zhan's heart all but stops. He's hasn't seen his brother cry like this since his mother passed away. He's shed tears at a sad movie, and his eyes have moistened at a touching speech or two. But this is different. He's crying with his full body. His shoulders are slumped and he looks helpless. And once again, it's Lan Zhan's choices that caused this. He's worried Xichen to the point of tears and all he can do is apologize.

"Ge, I'm sorry I've made you feel this way, but I'm not alone. I promise. I have Uncle. I have you, remember?"

His words don't help, Xichen only slumps forward more, head in hands. He's shaking. Lan Zhan moves to rub circles in his back, pulls his hair back to try to see his face but Xichen dodges.

"Mingue's not coming back, Wangji. The overseas trip turned permanent." His voice sounds raw. No wonder he's so torn up tonight. He must be heartbroken.

"Is that why you're so upset? Ge, we can get through that. You've been practicing long distance already. Your marriage is strong enough to survive this."

Xichen raises his eyes to look at him, and all he sees is his own face reflected in a sea of red rimmed agony.

"Wangji, I'm going with him."

The words fall like lead, not having the decency to echo. Just landing around him with a thud. And though the words are bad enough, it's the finality with which they're said that ultimately breaks him.

"You're leaving?" The answer is already in front of him. He just has to let it sink in. "That's the real reason, isn't it? Why you've been pushing so hard. It's not about me at all. You want a replacement here."

If he clings to anger, he doesn't have to accept the truth. If he's righteous enough, maybe Xichen will feel guilty enough to reconsider. It's childish. He can see the pain his brother's in, and all he can do is make it about himself.

"Everything I said was true, didi. Everything. I do worry about you. I do want to see you happy again. But I won't be here much longer and I had to find a way to help as much as I could before then. I want you to have a support system. I want you to have friends again. And I'd be proud to have you lead the school in my stead, but I've already planned to have Wei Ying step into that role."

Well, that's unexpected. It would explain the closeness between the two- Xichen's been grooming him. And Wei Ying is certainly capable.

"Does he know?"

"No. And no one knows I'm leaving." Xichen rushes to reassure him. "I haven't even told Uncle yet. I wanted you to be the first. Please believe me, Wangji. I just want the best for you."

"I know," he whispers. "I just feel blindsided. I wish you'd been honest from the beginning. Ge, you didn't even tell me Wei Ying came back. He's been here for how many years?"

"That was his request, Wangji. And if you had come back sooner, you would have known." Xichen says it a little sharply, with stale bitterness. It reminds him of all the times he'd postponed, and of all the promises he'd broken. Of course, Xichen hadn't forgotten any of them.

"What do you mean, his request?"

Just as he thinks he might tell him, Xichen stops himself from saying anything more. "I shouldn't be telling you any of that, Wangji. You should talk to Wei Ying."

"Ge. You hid the fact he was here. Then you call me home under dubious circumstances and throw us together every chance you get. Then you tell me you're leaving. The least of what you owe me is an explanation."

Xichen sighs, and considers his words. His tears have stopped but he looks no less tragic. After a long while, he stands and walks toward the window. He stares out at the landscaped lawn, smiling softly at the view, lit by the pale yellow garden lights. By the time he finally speaks, Lan Zhan's water's grown tepid.

"Wei Ying knocked on our door a little over five years ago with one suitcase and A-Yuan strapped to his back." He turns and faces him, his face heavy with the weight of memories past.

"Wangji, he was looking for you."

Chapter Text

"Is Lan Zhan home?"

The man on his doorstep was frail. Little more than skin and bones, though his clothes hid the worst of it. They were at least a size too big and not unfamiliar. He'd seen the boy wear the same exact things ago as a teen.

There were bruises on his arms. Cuts and scrapes. A cartoon bandaid covers what must be a scratck over his eyebrow, and a bit of red had seeped through. He was a shadow of the boy he'd known; it was almost hard to believe this was the same person who'd been attached at his brother's hip.

Strapped to his back, a young boy fast asleep. At least the child was perfectly plump, not a mark on his body. Clean and well taken care of, it was apparent the he had never missed a meal— unlike the man before him.

Lan Xichen dodged his question. "Wei Ying! Come in, come in." He shouted at Mingjue to start a fire, and the urgency must have been evident in his voice because his new husband got to work without question.

Wei Ying took a tentative step inside, still gripping his luggage like it was going to be taken away. The way he guarded it, Xichen knew it must be the last of his belongings.

"I'm sorry to come so late. Will you tell Lan Zhan I'm here?"

He shifted back and forth on unsteady feet, full of nervous energy. Because he looked like he'd bolt at a moment's notice, Xichen wasn't sure if he wanted to risk telling him just yet. The sound of crackling fire came from the living room, and Mingjue appeared in the entryway shortly after.

"Wei Ying, what a nice surprise." His smile was genuine but he and Xichen's eyes connected andexchanged a worried glance between them. The man was in horrid shape. He needed a bath, a hot meal and a warm bed.

"Who's the little man?" Mingjue asked, giving Xichen a moment to breathe.

Wei Ying opened up a little bit and introduced A-Yuan. The two sank into an easy conversation, and Xichen took the chance to slip away.

Sneaking into a far corner of the house where he wouldn't be overheard, he called his brother. The phone rang twice, then abruptly stopped. Sent to voicemail. Again. He left a short message begging Wangji to call him back, hoping this time his stubborn brother would listen. He hesitated and tried one more time, getting sent straight to voicemail again on the second attempt.

He knew his brother was still angry. He'd last visited with his new boyfriend in tow and his uncle had been less than approving. Himself as well, if he was forced to admit it. The man, Adam, had two faces— one for his brother and one for everyone else. During the moments Wangji hadn't been in the room, he'd turned from sweet and doting to snide and pompous.

Xichen held his own tongue for the sake of harmony, but his uncle didn't feel the need for such diplomacy. Xichen's attempts at mediation failed and Wangji left in a huff with his boyfriend closely held to his side. In the weeks since, communications had been strained. Sometimes he'd pick up right away and nothing seemed wrong. Other times, he'd ignore his calls for days. If he planned on giving a response, it probably wouldn't come that night.

He heated up leftovers, ostensibly enough for the three of them but he knew Mingjue wasn't any more hungry than he was. He didn't know when Wei Ying last ate and didn't want him to have to ask for more.

When he came back to the parlor, the sleeping boy lay in his lap and Wei Ying was answering Mingjue's questions as simply as possible. He wasn't the chatty boy he'd last known, but tight lipped and terse. He decided to skip the obvious questions for now, like the whereabouts of the child's mother, who put the bruises on him, and why he's here so late in the evening.

He picks easy things to ask, those that Wei Ying can answer between bites. "How old is A-Yuan?" Four. "Are you staying in town long?" Just passing through. "What about tonight? Can we offer you a room?" If it's no trouble.

Eventually, he had to confess. Wei Ying looked him straight in his eyes and asked where Lan Zhan was.

"He doesn't live here anymore, Wei Ying. He never came back after college."

Wei Ying's face stayed blank, hiding whatever reaction he had to Xichen's admission. He looked down at the child in his arms, then back up.

"Thank you for the room. We'll be out of your hair in the morning."

"The next morning came, and I panicked. He tried to leave before we woke up but neither Mingjue nor I got much sleep that night anyway. I met him at the door, and I just blurted out that our landscaper just quit. We were in a lurch and asked if he knew anything about lawn maintenance.

"He said he could learn. When I told him it came with room and board, it was like a thousand pound weight was lifted from his shoulders. Mingjue's as well, since he was technically the previous landscaper."

Lan Zhan tried to process what he'd heard so far. The memories are foggy with the passage of time, but he has a vague recollection of that period. Things had been hard after their visit, with Adam being overly sensitive. He'd become touchy whenever he saw Xichen or his uncle calling. Then a memory that never made sense rose to the surface.

"That was when you called my office."

Xichen looked down and nodded. "I called your cell one more time. When you didn't answer, I called Adam. Begged to speak with you because Wei Ying was here and he needed you.

"He asked who Wei Ying was, and I told him. Your high school best friend had come back to town and he wasn't doing well. I told him that he needed you. He said he'd pass on the message and you would return the call when you were ready, but the way he said it.. I just knew. I thought he also might be behind the calls that went straight to voicemail.

"So I gave up on your cell phone and called your office directly. You asked why and I told you the truth. That I suspected Adam had been intercepting our calls and this is the only way I can reach you. I should have been smarter about it; you got defensive. You protected him, accused me of thinking the worst of him. You said he wouldn't do something like that. There wasn't even a call history from me. I tried to tell you he probably deleted it, but you were just completely closed off.

"And Wei Ying was just standing in the doorway, listening to us fight. The look on his face was heartbreaking; he didn't understand at the time. He just knew that he showed up unannounced and shortly after that we were fighting."

"I hung up on you."

He remembers it clearly now. Adam had been so hard to console, scared out of his mind that his family would try to break them up. Adam swore he'd choose his family over him. Lan Zhan promised him it wouldn't happen, that there was no way it would come to that. It's obvious now, looking back. But then, he'd just been trying to hold everything together. When Xichen called, he heard his boyfriend's unfounded fears becoming reality.

"I should have tried harder. You were too close to it, but I knew better. I should have tried until you'd listen, but I was staring at Wei Ying. He needed us more, and he wanted our help. He accepted it. And you weren't ready to see the truth. If I introduced Wei Ying back then, I don't think he'd be here now."

He wants to fight his brother on that point, but Xichen was right to be scared. He wasn't listening to reason at the time.

"I remember him asking about Wei Ying. That must have been why. He said he overheard the name when we were visiting."

"What did you tell him?"

"I was honest. I said he was my first love and someone it took me a long time to get over. He used that for so long. He held his jealousy of Wei Ying over my head." Would you leave me for him? If he ever showed up again, would it be over for us?

Xichen comes over and pulls him into a hug. He starts to pull away; he doesn't deserve the comfort. Xichen doesn't let up, though, so he gives in to the touch. "I'm sorry, ge. I should have listened."

"Wangji, we're both to blame. If I'm completely honest, I was angry with you as well. I might have been patient, and I might have tried to be understanding, but I was hurt you thought so little of us. When you hung up on me, I could have driven down there and confronted you face to face. I could have sent you an email. I could have done so many things, but I didn't."

"You said Wei Ying asked you not to tell me?"

"Well, after he accepted the landscaping job, I let him use my computer to research whatever he needed. And there were a lot of good resources on YouTube, and since it was my account.."

"He found the channel."

"Yes. He found it. He didn't say anything about it at first, but I caught him watching one of your early videos. He looked so conflicted. He looks so happy, he told me. And I think he wanted to be happy for you as well, but there was also loneliness there. I could see how much he missed you.

"I told him we could try again. Things had calmed down. But his injuries were still healing, he was still pathetically underweight. He wasn't his old self again, and he knew it. He said he wanted to wait. Get better, make his life more stable. I think he saw the life you appeared to have and wanted to meet you on equal footing. Maybe it was a pride thing, or maybe he didn't want you worrying about him and causing problems in your relationship.

"So I agreed. We kept it a secret for the day you came back. Wei Ying had this grand idea of how things would be when you returned. And, well, you know how that turned out."

"Mmh." It hadn't turned out. He never came back. He never saw—

"It's not the whole story, Wangji. But I hope it answers some of your questions. You'll need to get the rest from him."

"Did you ever find out who hurt him?" The question has been in his mind since Xichen started, but it's a hard one to ask.

Xichen sighs, shaking his head. "I don't, but I have my suspicions. I knew he went to the Jiang's first, but he was turned away pretty quickly. He didn't stay long enough to accumulate those kinds of marks. It must have happened before he came home."

Marks like those, the ones that never get talked about— those were personal. Domestic. Wei Ying had been abused.

"Wangji," Xichen's tone is imploring. "Those are questions only Wei Ying can answer. I'm not sure if he wants to revisit the past, but if he knows it's important to you, I don't think there's anything he wouldn't tell you."

"He needed me and I wasn't there. Do you know how that feels?" His voice shakes and he can't stay calm. He only sees the picture Xichen's painted of Wei Ying at the end of his rope, and he hadn't been there to give him his hand. And in the back of his mind, there's anger and a sense of betrayal directed at Adam. But he'd been the one to listen to him. He'd chosen him over his family at the worst possible time. He'd allowed himself to be manipulated.

"You can be there for him now," Xichen reminds him with a gentle touch. "Wei Ying is stronger than anyone gives him credit for. He went through hell and survived. And he raised a beautiful, intelligent boy at the same time."

"Ge, I don't think Adam was ever who I thought he was."

It's a hard admission to make. Not more than a few times he's wondered if Adam had been looking for a relationship or scouting for a costar. He thought the cracks had formed much later in their relationship, but now he sees they were there since pretty much the beginning.

"It doesn't matter who he is or isn't, didi. What matters is who you are. And that you're happy with who that is."

Xichen's trying to be comforting, but is it still possible top be happy with who he is when he's lost so much?

His distress must show, because Xichen takes his hands in his and holds them firmly. "I can tell you that I've never been more proud of anything you've done than what I've seen over the last couple of weeks. Wangji, you've blossomed in the classroom. The children adore you. And you've found a way to reach Jin Ling. I couldn't even do that."

"You're proud?" He didn't know how starved he'd been for those words. He's felt like he's been floundering for so long. He's enjoyed the summer so much that he thought perhaps he wasn't doing his job well. Hearing that Xichen approves nurtures his confidence.

"Not just proud. I'm so happy to see you thriving again. Wangji, I know I've dumped a lot of things in your lap tonight. I know you and Wei Ying have some things you need to talk about. And I know it's too soon to expect any sort of answer, but I hope you'll consider staying in Gusu. Not just for me, even though I'll rest easier knowing you're here. For yourself, didi."

Staying in Gusu. It would mean leaving the apartment with the gorgeous view, but in all honesty— had he thought about that view since he'd been here? Had he even missed it? If he left, if he returned, this is what he would miss. Uncle. His students. The stupid gorgeous landscaping.

And its artist.

"I'll think about it, ge."

"That's all I ask," Xichen smiles."I'm turning in. You need anything else tonight?"

He shakes his head, and allows one more hug from his brother. The emotional toll of the conversations he's had tonight has far reached the point of becoming overwhelming. It's almost midnight, and he'll need to be up early for class. But he stands where Xichen stood, looking over the gardens a little while longer before he allows himself the escape of sleep.

"You don't look great, Mr. Lan." A-Yuan looks up at him with probing eyes. "Is it the weather? Baba gets headaches sometimes when it rains."

He remembers. He'd used to bring tylenol with him on stormy days because more often than not, Wei Ying would be hiding his head under his hoody and hissing at the bright lights of the classroom like a grumpy vampire.

"I slept poorly, but thank you for the concern, A-Yuan." He'd stared at the ceiling last night for far too long, trying to reframe his understanding of the last decade. Everything he thought he knew was called into question, and there were still so many things left unknown.

Xichen gave him just enough information to spark his curiosity. He knew that Wei Ying had shown up on his doorstep, but the why is murky. He'd been abused and Xichen had his suspicions, but he hadn't shared them. Lan Zhan had no right to demand the information now, but could there be a possibility Wei Ying would open up to him like Xichen had suggested? The ceiling hadn't answered his questions and he'd barely gotten sleep at all.

Despite being sluggish, the lesson is quite enjoyable. A-Yuan has his cousin's determination and A-Qing's natural talent. While he'd had to simplify Jin Ling's lessons, he has the opposite problem here. He'll need to find a way to keep them advanced enough to maintain the child's interest without being so challenging they frustrate him.

Even at his level, there's still plenty of instruction to provide. Throughout the session, Lan Zhan spotted quite a few areas he could improve. He laments he only has six weeks with the boy before Xichen's words repeat themselves in his head. How much progress could the boy make if he stayed a little longer? Or just never went back at all?

"Why didn't you and baba stay best friends?" A-Yuan asks out of the blue. They'd just finished for the day and he'd been slow about packing up. Perhaps stalling until he asked the question.

"Life happens." It's not the best answer, but it's the closest to the truth. "We went different ways and it was hard to stay in touch."

But A-Yuan seems satisfied by the answer. "Baba stays so busy. If I wasn't his son, I'd probably never see him." He's quiet for a moment, then asks what he's really curious about. "Will that happen to me and Jin Ling?"

The innocence stabs at him. He wants to say no, of course not. He also doesn't want to lie, so he settles for something in between. "Not as long as you make an effort. Your father and I didn't make the effort, so we drifted apart. Relationships take work, even when it's family."

Lan Zhan didn't consider it at the time, but he didn't know about A-Yuan's existence when Wei Ying stopped texting. He'd probably been knee deep in diapers, hardly sleeping, working himself silly trying to provide.

He'd been the last to text, and Wei Ying hadn't returned it. He thought he knew what that meant at the time. That he was part of a past Wei Ying wanted to leave behind. Now he thinks Wei Ying just struggled to keep up with everything and made the right choice to prioritize his son over everything else. It's a surprising revelation.

"It must have been hard for your baba."

A-yuan nods his head, looking far more mature than he has any right to. "He was sad a lot. He tried to hide it, but I could tell. He's happy now though."

Lan Zhan's lips quirk up in fondness. "I can see that."

"Especially happy this summer," the boy grins, waggling his eyebrows. He scoffs at the implication, but can feel his ears burning in response.

He walks him out since their session ran long, quickly turning off all the lights and locking up as he goes. It ends up being the right decision, because he finds Wei Ying in the parking lot, head buried under the hood of his jeep. Jin Ling stands beside him, obviously bored out of his mind.

Overhead, the clouds darken and the wind begins a low howl. Thunder claps in the distance, a warning sign of their night to come.

Wei Ying's grousing meets his ears as he approaches. He tries not to look too long at the exposed part of his back as his shirt rides up, sticking his hands in his pocket so he doesn't do something stupid. Like reach out and touch him.

"Car trouble?"

Wei Ying hadn't noticed him approaching and stands up abruptly, banging his head on the hood. It makes a horrifically loud sound combined with Wei Ying's yelp, and without thinking he grabs Wei Ying's head in his hands, soothing the place he'd hit with comforting strokes.

All three give him the same shocked, wide eyed stare. He should have kept his hands in his pockets.

"I'm okay, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says breathlessly, and he removes his hand, taking a step back. Wei Ying touches the spot his hand just was, his fingers lingering there. He looks a little dazed, he must have hit the hood harder than it seemed.

"Can you jump me?" he asks, and though the request is innocent, the look on Lan Zhan's face is far from it. Wei Ying scrambles to revise the sentence, only making things worse. "I mean like, jump my car, not like— fu-udgesicle. Battery's dead. I have one at home I was meaning to replace, just forgot." The laugh that follows is forced and tinny.

He can feel the boys' eyes on him, their wide eyed stares turned to amused grins and welcomes the excuse of tracking down his car. Wei Ying makes short work of it, and gives him a shy grin as they head off. Since they'll be headed in the same direction for a bit, he follows along closely. For the boys, of course.

It's a good thing, too. Not long after they leave the parking lot, Wei Ying's hazards come on and he pulls off to the side of the road. It's accompanied by a crack of thunder and a glance above shows the pregnant clouds won't hold their bottom much longer.

"It's the alternator," he yells after another stint under the hood. The wind makes it hard to hear him and Lan Zhan leans in. "I'm gonna need to get it towed. Lan Zhan? Best friend?" Wei Ying's smile warms him up and he's already mentally accepted the request.

"I'll drive the boys home for you."

"You're the absolute best. I owe you my first born."

"Hey!" A-yuan yells, halfway into his backseat.

"It's a trade-up, radish. You'll thank me when he pays for college."

Wei Ying's joking. He knows this. Being his best friend means enduring this kind of teasing. But Wei Ying also just implied he trusts Lan Zhan to raise his son and it's doing things to his heart that he doesn't quite mind.

It takes another 20 minutes through the countryside to reach the small, renovated farmhouse. The scene sits in stark comparison to the concrete jungle he's spent the past decade in. He can breathe out here. The only noise is that of the rumbling sky and an occasional passing car.

How different would his life be if he'd come home after college? If he'd been the one to open the door that night and take care of the young father and child? He doesn't think he'd feel so bone weary now. Could one of the rocking chairs on the stoop be his?

Ridiculous. Wei Ying wasn't even straight. Best friends don't have matching rocking chairs— husbands do. He had to remind himself of that time to time because his hopeful heart kept projecting a sexuality Wei Ying had never so much at hinted at.

Their house is older, but it sits on a perfectly manicured lawn. He must have practiced here, learning the skills he'd implement at his uncle's house. A sprawling garden stands between the house and the road, space enough to allow for an abundance of fruit and vegetables. It's beauty and peace. It feels like home.

They run into the house to get out of the rain, and he regrets not having time to examine the yard up close. Wei Ying built it in only five years. In the ten years he's been gone, what has Lan Zhan built? And yet, he's not entirely bitter. He's happy for old friend. He's living the life he deserves.

The boys flock to their video game consoles as soon as their bags are put away, so he stops to inspect the kitchen. Wei Ying had defrosted chicken in the fridge, and he examines the other ingredients for meal inspiration. He spies a half empty carton of heavy cream and decides on Chicken Piccata. It might be indulgent, but Wei Ying deserves something hearty after dealing with car trouble in a rain storm.

He slips into his meditative cooking state, chopping and dicing and stirring and tasting. Before long, the house is filled with a delicious aroma. He's slicing a lemon when Wei Ying comes home, drenched and grinning.

"You cooked."

His tone of voice makes it sound like dinner is some divine gift bestowed by the gods, and Lan Zhan beams a little with pride.

"It's nothing big. I thought the boys would be hungry."

"Yeah," Wei Ying says, and for a moment Lan Zhan forgets anything else exists. They stare at each other in a comfortable silence. He smells of rain and car grease and wet grass and he is stunning.

Wei Ying breaks the spell first. "Well, let me go wash this off and we'll eat? Unless you have to get back. I don't want to keep you."

"I'm happy to stay for dinner, Wei Ying."

Wei Ying winks before he walks away, stopping only to say hi to the boys before he disappears upstairs. For his part, Lan Zhan spends the next ten minutes not imagining soap suds running down Wei Ying's chest.

They eat dinner loudly. It's not what he's used to and Wei Ying knows it, shooting him an apologetic grin every now and then but making no effort to quiet the boys. He finds he doesn't mind it though. Dinner with his family was always quiet, and he'd stopped bothering with Adam. Most of his meals were taken privately in his office/bedroom, and eating had become a decidedly lonely experience.

The boys are lost in some sort of friendly argument when Lan Zhan meets Wei Ying's eyes over them. He's smiling as he chews, so big his eyes crinkle at the edges. He's so full of life. So beautiful. Here, in this old farm house, he finds himself once again surrounded by everything Wei Ying and he adores it.

He tells him as much when he accepts the offer of a tour after dinner. The rain lightened up considerably and the worst of the clouds had rolled on. They share an umbrella as Wei Ying walks him around, though it's awkwardly small for two grown men. Eventually he gives up fiddling with it and they deal with the occasional sprinkle landing on their heads.

"Your home is lovely. It's very you." He leans against the picket fence and drinks in the countryside view. He never pictured this for Wei Ying, but somehow it fits.

"Did you just call me lovely, er-gege?" Wei Ying teases him, but he also looks a little shy. He stands beside him, facing the opposite direction. "It took a few years to get this all worked out. Now I can grow enough to take care of us and some of the elderly nearby. Cuts down on our grocery bill quite a bit."

"You know I always thought you'd ended up as an engineer. Maybe a computer scientist."

"Pshhh. Can't eat code, no matter how many bugs it has."

"That was horrible, Wei Ying."

Wei Ying leans forward, and his eyes full of twinkles. Lan Zhan wants to count how many.

"You missed my bad jokes. I can tell."

"Mmh," Lan Zhan agrees, turning his body so that he faces him entirely and it must be obvious what he really means. 

I missed you.

"Well, college wasn't really an option. Not with a newborn. Then A-Yuan got sick, and his mother couldn't handle any of it anymore. She gave up her rights and took off. I just couldn't do it on my own.

"I always thought you would come back to Gusu. Join the family business, be a proper Lan. But you had loftier ambitions."

"A-Yuan got sick?" Xichen hadn't mentioned that part. Does he know?

"When he was three. It uh, well it was a catalyst for a lot of things. He's fine now, it was more just a scare. We thought he was sicker than he was. We got lucky."

It's evident in his tone that he doesn't want to say too much, so Lan Zhan doesn't push him. Perhaps when they grow closer and he trusts him more.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you came back." 

They look at each other, and he realizes how close Wei Ying has gotten to him. His hair is still damp from the shower, but he's glowing.

"You're here now," Wei Ying reminds him, giving him the look that used to haunt him as a teen. If this was ten years ago, he'd find an excuse to pull away and put distance between them, scared he'd lose control and do something Wei Ying might not forgive him for.

Now, he forces himself to relax as their bodies slowly move closer and Wei Ying tilts his head just a little until it rests on his shoulder.

"This too much?" Wei Ying whispers, and Lan Zhan shakes his head. It's not nearly enough, but he doesn't say it. Instead, he snakes his hand around Wei Ying's waist and rests it there as they watch the last of the storm receding over the hills.

He wakes before the sun the next morning, refreshed and giddy from the previous night. He could still feel Wei Ying under his arm, could even still smell his shampoo. Questions linger though, and he doesn't think he was imagining things. Wei Ying was giving him signals. Not the harmless flirting. Actual signals. Maybe Wei Ying was oblivious to it, but had it been any other man, they'd have ended up in Lan Zhan's bed by the end of the night.

Of course, it could be wishful thinking. He could be reading things wrong, reading into Wei Ying's signs what he wants to. Hadn't he done that as a teenager? Convinced himself Wei Ying might actually return his feelings and gathered up the courage to confess to him, only to—

No. He shakes the thought away as he laces up his running shoes. He could make assumptions or he could just ask him. Wei Ying, is it only friendship you want? It's a simple question. The worst he could say is no. Nothing would change. Wei Ying would still be his best friend. He wouldn't think any less of him. His heart would be sore, and his pride bruised. But then he could move on. And maybe he would ask him to vet his future dates because mixed signals notwithstanding, Wei Ying is an excellent judge of character.

But what if he says yes? Now that hurts to think about. Because then he'll have him. The fantasies he had then, the ones he has now, they'll come to life. He'd finally be able to make Wei Ying's body sing. Pleasure him the way he's always dreamed. The thought alone drives him mad.

He stops the train of thought, because running with an erection isn't the most comfortable experience. He heads back early as the ground is too wet from the night before to attempt the more wooded paths.

A quick shower turns into a much longer affair as last night's memories return to him. This time he pictures himself joining Wei Ying in the bathroom. His innocent look of surprise as Lan Zhan pulls the curtain open.

In the fantasy, Wei Ying had been leaning against the wall, half bent forward and stroking himself furiously, trying to come before anyone noticed he'd been in there too long. He'd be embarrassed to be caught in the act, but Lan Zhan would crowd him, pull his hands away and place them on the curtain rod.

Don't move your hands, and don't make it fall. Wei Ying would look at him with a flushed face, and he'd nod quickly, wanting so badly to please him.

He'd tease his body. Starting with Wei Ying's neck, licking the rivulets of water streaming down. Wei Ying would be shocked into silence, but then he'd start babbling. Start begging Lan Zhan for more. He'd tell him how he never knew he wanted this but he does. Lan Zhan would plant hot kisses on his chest, spending time on those perfect dark, hardened nubs. The ones that he used to dream about after their long days at the lake. He'd tug them with his teeth until Wei Ying hissed, then smooth over the swollen skin with a flat tongue.

He'd make his way down his stomach, bury his face in the softness of the man's belly. Nip at stomach where he'd once found him to be ticklish, and look up at him while he tried to keep his arms in place without putting any of his weight on the bar. Hold his eyes while he finally tasted him, lapping the pearly bead of precum leaking from his slit.

He imagines Wei Ying's moan as his more fortunate self sinks hot lips down his length, content to have the weight of him finally fill his mouth. Happy to be there, latched on to him as Wei Ying tries his hardest not to move. He sinks to his knees in real life, imagining Wei Ying babbling as he pumps his own cock, chasing his need without restraint.

The Wei Ying in his mind comes a second before he does, and he can taste the phantom bitter saltiness on his tongue as he strokes himself though his orgasm, water pounding down on him from above. He stays there on his knees, chest heaving until the water pelting him from above grows cold.

Wen Qing waits by his car, not in her typical scrubs but a navy pant suit. Her hair is pulled back into a neat bun and her makeup is well applied. She meets his eyes with a stern expression, and he wonders if she can read the impure thoughts that are still fresh in his mind. Then he notices the tell tale signs of nervousness. The way she shifts on her feet, the worry marks on her bottom lip.

"I have a meeting with Xichen. You may drive." Her words are only slightly less tense than the hold she has on her purse so he just nods and opens the door for her.

They ride in the same comfortable silence they cook in. She keeps her gaze straight ahead, but every now and then she'll pick at her fingernails before catching herself. The roads are still wet and he drives cautiously, but she seems too nervous to be in a hurry.

When he parks, she doesn't get out immediately. Instead, she looks him up and down before coming to some sort of decision.

"He broke up with his last boyfriend because of his height. Wei Ying likes being the little spoon."

The words come out quickly, strung together as if they're all one word. After unbuckling her seatbelt, she exits the car in one fluid motion and the car door slams shut before he's even processed her meaning.

Lan Zhan watches her leave, confused about what's just happened. And then it dawns on him. This must be her way of saying thank you for the ride. A tiny little olive branch. A tidbit about Wei Ying.

One that happens to change everything.

Because Wei Ying isn't straight. And if Wei Ying isn't straight, the way he leaned against him last night takes a whole new meaning.

Chapter Text

It had been ages since he'd been to a bar on a Friday night, and while he feels a little old in comparison to those around him, he really needs a change of scenery. The past week had been intense, the news of Xichen's impending departure weighing heavily on his heart. In addition, he's still processing everything he'd learned about Wei Ying and what it could possibly mean for his future.

Mian Mian had been thrilled to accept the drink invitation and beat him to the bar.

"You become a librarian and no one thinks you want to drink anymore. Well, besides your other librarian friends," she grumbles as she takes the seat opposite him in the booth. It's relatively early to be crowded, and they can still easily hear each other over the hum of the bar crowd.

He fills her in, trying to hit every detail and by the time he's done she's ordered her second drink.

"What do you mean it's not real?"

Unlike him, she's always expressed her emotions liberally and now is no exception. She's shocked, and perhaps a bit betrayed.

"You guys looked so happy. And he's still making videos about how much he misses you."

"He's what?"

Scrambling for his phone, he pulls up the YouTube channel he'd been purposefully avoiding. Of course now he realizes that was dumb of him, a stupid mistake considering the recent updates he peruses in horror.

They are mostly about Adam and how he's spending his time. He's got a couple of sad diary entries about the pain of a long distance relationship. There are even a couple of faked phone calls where the viewer can only hear one end of the conversation.

Disgust sours his stomach.

"Wangji, this is borderline psychotic behavior. If you've really ended things, fuck waiting until January. You should go public before he does something really off the walls."

She's a good voice of reason, but she hasn't been through what he has. And, as long as Adam thinks he has what he needs, he's really not much of a threat. He'd learned how to handle him over the years.

"I'm not in any real danger. His motivations are financial. If we appear to be a happy couple, he'll maintain a steady revenue stream. Hurting me would compromise that."

She gives him a look of exasperation.

"He's having a fake conversation, Zhanzhan. This is so disturbing."

Because she seems so genuinely distraught, he tries for a subject change he suspects will boost her spirits.

"I've been spending more time with Wei Ying."

He's right. She forgets all about Adam. Her grin is instantaneous, and she leans forward in a bid for more details. He tells her about their heart to hearts, about visiting the farmhouse and seeing his gardens. How his brother helped Wei Ying along when he came back to town.

She listens patiently, letting him speak without interruption, her gaze growing fonder the more he talks.

"You have feelings for him again."

There's no since in hedging his words with her. Plus, it feels good to admit it to someone besides his worried brother.

"That would imply I stopped at some point."

"Oh Wangji. Still? All this time?"

He nods his head, staring down at the drink he's barely touched as his fingers make patterns in the condensation.

"I can stop thinking about him when there's distance, but the second I see him again everything comes back."

She leans back, considering his words with a contemplative frown.

"Have you tried telling him how you feel?"

"Up until recently, I didn't think he would be able to reciprocate. Wei Ying is naturally flirty, and it's hard to tell if he wants something more or if he's just being friendly. But he's been… more forward recently. I'm working up the courage."

She's quiet for a moment, drumming her fingers on the tabletop while her eyes skim over the crowd. "Get us some waters while I go to the bathroom?"

The bar filled up over the hour they've been at their booth, but there are a couple of places to sneak in. He grabs the bartender's attention easily, but has to wait for a few orders until he can place his own.

"You can put his drink on my tab," a deep voice remarks from beside him. He turns to see a rather attractive man, cuffs rolled up to show an impressive sleeve on his left arm. He's not unattractive. In fact, he'd be just the kind of guy Lan Zhan might have brought home in college. Dark eyes, well built. A way of holding himself that exudes confidence. This one could even be a bit of a challenge.

"It's water."

The guy's grin spreads easily. He's got a nice smile, but it's still lacking. His lips are unadorned. Boring. The guy notices where his eyes are looking.

"Then make it a double." He leans forward into Lan Zhan's space, forcing him to take a step back.

Lan Zhan rolls his eyes, though he can't help but chuckle. "You're horrible at pickup lines."

"Yet you're still talking to me." He's persistent. That used to do something for him, and even now he can't deny it feels good to be wanted. He just wants that desire coming from someone else.

The bartender places the two glasses of water down and Lan Zhan sets a tip in the jar.

"Thanks for the drink." He can feel the guys eyes on him as he slides back into the booth, a knowing grin on Mianmian's face.

"Well well, you still have it, Zhan Zhan." She's looking down at her phone in amusement, tapping away at the screen and he hears the woosh of a message being sent. She flips the screen around so he can see.

It's a picture of him against the bar, and the amusement on his face is evident. The guy's face is obscured but the picture shows his figure well enough, and the body language is clear.

It's a text to Wei Ying, and the text underneath reads: "Look who I just ran into at the Back Porch!! You remember Lan Wangji??"

His mouth drops open in shock.

"Why did you send that to him?"

"Elementary, my dear Zhan Zhan," Mian Mian shrugs with wisdom beyond her years."If he shows up, he's interested."

"But what if he just wants to hang out because we're here and he's bored?"

Wei Ying always had a habit of showing up where he was when they were kids just because he'd had nothing better to do. It wouldn't be out of character now.

"Trust me. I can tell. I give him an hour tops. Ten minutes to shower, 15 to pick an outfit, another 20 to wrangle someone to come with him so it looks like a casual run in. And the rest of the time to drive over and find a parking space."

He's not entirely sure. Wei Ying had mentioned a few times today how much he was looking forward to movie night with the Wen's tonight. Some sort of space battle trilogy he thought Lan Zhan would like. He humored Mian Mian though, not wanting to put her feminine wiles into question.

"If I'm wrong, I'll buy the next round. But if I'm right.. You have to tell him."

"You mean tell him how I feel?"

"Bingo," she smiles with an unwarranted cockiness. "Unbutton your shirt one more button." She leans over and does it for him, and he feel the cold bar air hit the top of his chest. She examines him, tilting her head to the side. "Sleeves. Roll them up. Higher. One more roll. Perfect."

He feels silly, but listens to her instructions. The logical part of his brain knows she'll be buying the next round. But his heart is beating fast, the anticipation of seeing Wei Ying walk into the bar making him practically vibrate in his seat. There's no denying it. He's gone.

Every time someone opens the door, he can't stop his eyes from darting over. Mianmian teases him every time, but she looks too. Even his knee bounces, a nervous trait he doesn't normally have.

It goes on for 45 minutes, his eyes glancing over while she attempts to distract him with tales from work. He wishes she hadn't told him her plan because now he has to brace himself for the disappointment when Wei Ying doesn't show.

But then the door opens and his familiar figure steps in. Lan Zhan's body grows ice cold before it burns.

"Well I'll be damned," Mianmian breathes, following his eyes. "He's interested all right."

Lan Zhan only gets a few seconds to take Wei Ying in as he scans the bar. He's got tight fitting gray jeans, distressed to show shreds of a tan, well muscled thigh. A black dress shirt stretches tight over his biceps and a gray vest flaunts his slim waist. He'd pulled his hair into a loose bun, and Lan Zhan's eyes get stuck on his long, exposed neck.

He's downright edible. When their eyes meet, Wei Ying explodes into a grin. Half the bar is looking at Wei Ying but Wei Ying onlysees him. He doesn't even notice Wen Qing is with him, dressed in a low cut red halter dress and exaggerated cat eyes, until Wei Ying turns to her and nods over to their table.

They walk towards him, and he's confused when Wei Ying's expression turns dark.

The guy from the bar stands there, saying words at him and setting a glass of water down on the table with a flirtatious grin. He's about to respond, his brain slowly coming back online, but Wei Ying is quicker.

"I'll take that; he's allergic." He winks at the guy, then drinks the whole thing in one go, handing him the empty glass after. "Jack and cola?"

The guy just stands there perplexed, seemingly speechless until he snaps back. "I'm not your waiter."

"My mistake," Wei Ying laughs, sliding into the booth beside Lan Zhan. The look in his eyes is anything but jovial, however. The man looks back again at Lan Zhan and, deciding it's not worth it, ambles back to his seat at the bar with the empty glass.

"You don't think he drugged that, do you?"

But no one answers the question. Lan Zhan is too busy getting high on the scent of his cologne, and Mian Mian is staring a hole through Wen Qing's dress.

"What happened to movie night?"

All he can feel is Wei Ying beside him. The press of their thighs together, and the feel of the arm he casually threw across the back of the bench seat brushing against his neck.

"What was that?" Wei Ying asks, leaning in so that Lan Zhan's lips are almost touching his ear and the scent of his shampoo invades his lungs. He knows it then. He's not sure when, and he's not sure how, but he's kissing this man tonight.

"You're m-movie marathon."

"Oh! Yeah!" Wei Ying readjusts himself because now he's speaking in Lan Zhan's ear. He thinks Wei Ying's lips actually brush his lobe accidentally, grateful the noise level of the bar masks the sound of surprise that escapes him. "Well, Qing Qing needed a night out. Said she was going stir crazy at the house."

Control quickly seeps from his grasp, and deep breaths only fill him with more Wei Ying. He looks to Mian Mian for help, but the two girls have started their own conversation. The bar's finally too loud to hear over the table without yelling, and neither seems interested. Mian Mian giggles quietly at something Wen Qing said. Odd, he hadn't noticed her being particularly funny.

"Showing a little skin tonight?" Wei Ying asks, dropping his voice low. He swipes his finger across the buttons Mianmian had undone. "Risque, Lan Zhan. Some of these men might get the wrong idea."

"I was hot." His ears are on fire. He looks around, sure the entire bar is staring at them but he's wrong. Everyone's distracted with something else, and even Mian Mian seems to have forgotten his existence.

"Still are," he thinks he hears Wei Ying say. He snaps his eyes back to him, which is a big mistake, because Wei Ying's expression is purely one of amusement. "I mean, they're still unbuttoned, so you must still be hot."

"Mmh."

"So, what are you drinking? I don't think I'm getting the jack and cola I ordered."

"A non-alcoholic mojito."

"Lan Zhan! You're no fun." Wei Ying pouts at him, and he's about twelve seconds from losing his fucking mind. Thankfully, Wei Yingslides out of the booth and walks over to the bar.

He can breathe again. Lan Zhan inhales deeply, squeezing his hands into fists under the table.

Things he knows. Wei Ying is here. Wei Ying is dressed like sex. Wei Ying chased off the guy that was hitting on him. Wei Ying is definitely flirting. With him. Mian Mian finally tears her attention away from Wen Qing long enough to give him an "I told you so" wink. She mouths the words "tell him" across the table, and he quickly nods to get her to back off.

"Mojito no jito, Pinot Noir for my girl, and I hope you still like gin, Mian Mian." The girls take their drinks with a cursory nod and polite smile, then fall back into their conversation.

"You think they'd notice if we just disappeared?" Wei Ying nods over at the two women. Wen Qing doesn't look as nervous as she had in the car the other morning, but there's definitely a shyness to her mannerisms. Perhaps it's more coy. Mian Mian is into it.

"Should we?" His drink isn't loaded with courage; he's not sure where it came from. Wei Ying looks taken aback, but not necessarily in a bad way.

"This place has a killer patio." Wei Ying grabs his hand, laces their fingers together, and pulls him from the booth. His heart had been racing, and now it thunders. He swallows, reminding himself how to walk naturally as he follows Wei Ying's lead.

They stay hand in hand as Wei Ying navigates him through the crowd of bodies, separating people as they cut through. Wei Ying's grip is firm; it feels like nothing could pull them apart and the thought makes him smile.

Fairy lights give the space a romantic glow and several fire pits provide a welcome warmth— not that he needs it. All seats are occupied, so Wei Ying tugs him toward a quiet, dimly lit corner in back. There are no tables, just a low wall to lean against and they sip their drinks side by side. His eyes wander over the crowd, but he feels Wei Ying's on him.

The Killers play a song he hasn't heard since high school, and he watches Wei Ying's face as he remembers along to the lyrics.

And sometimes you close your eyes and see the place where you used to live when you were young.

"The guy hitting on you. Was he your type?" Wei Ying asks. It's quiet out here. He doesn't have to lean in for Lan Zhan to hear him, but he does anyway. His breath is slightly tinged with whiskey, and he wonders how much of it he would taste if he just leaned in a little closer and— Wei Ying is waiting for an answer.

"At one time he would have been."

Wei Ying doesn't have a response to that. He takes another sip and the song changes. Taylor Swift's voice fills the space around them, and Wei Ying's eyes light up.

I don't want to look at anything else now that I saw you.

Across the patio, two college aged girls dance. One sings to the other, over the top and melodramatic while the smaller girl laughs. They're cheek to cheek, hand in hand, swaying their bodies back and forth and suddenly Lan Zhan wants that. A quiet moment in a crowded room.

Wei Ying followed his gaze to watch them as well, and he sees the same want.

I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked. Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke.

Smoke. Like the gray of his eyes, and he so desperately wants the same. To breathe him in, deep into his lungs.

Wei Ying takes another sip of his drink, switching it to his left. Now, when he sets his right hand down, it overlaps slightly with Lan Zhan. It's barely his pinky finger, but it sparks a fire inside him.

"You know, the night I came back. Xichen let me sleep in your old room."

He tenses for a moment. He hadn't realized it, though it should have been obvious. The house isn't large enough to have extra bedrooms. His would have been the only one available. Wei Ying had slept in his old bed that night. The hair tie. He finally had his answer.

"I didn't mean to snoop around or anything. I just kind of missed you. I poked around a little. And I saw this stack of pictures."

He stills, his body frozen. He imagines Wei Ying untying the ribbon and flipping though them. Would he see the same thing Lan Zhan saw?

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Lan Zhan asks, feigning ignorance.

"That you were in love with me."

"Wei Ying!"

His tone is sharper than he intends and Wei Ying flinches. This isn't how things are supposed to be going. Wei Ying has taken the lead the entire night, him helpless to follow, just working up his courage to say the words and now they've been said for him.

"It's true, isn't it? The way you looked at your ex in those early videos, it's the same way you looked at me. I compared. A couple of times, actually."

He has no grounds to challenge him. Wei Ying is right. Arguing would be pointless dishonesty.

"I was going to tell you," he admits. "The night you introduced your girlfriend to me. That's the important thing I had to tell you."

Wei Ying hangs his head, silent for a long time. The girls have quit dancing, now one sits on the others lap as her girlfriend's hands wrap around her waist. They're giggling at something, a private joke between the two of them.

"I really fucked that night up, huh?" His voice is contrite and his words are laced with regret. Lan Zhan's first instinct is to comfort him, even though it's one of his own worst memories. The years that followed that night were harsher to Wei Ying than they were to Lan Zhan. His relationship might have failed, might not have been real to start with, but Wei Ying had shown up half dead. Despite his own pain, he harbors no resentment.

"Don't be hard on yourself, Wei Ying. It just happened that way. You weren't responsible for my feelings, and I didn't think you could return them anyway. You'd found someone, and it didn't seem there was a reason to tell you anymore."

"But I did though."

If music still played, Lan Zhan couldn't hear it. Everything goes quiet as Wei Ying lifts his head, pins him with that silver eyed stare that makes him feel so exposed, and begins to explain.

"I loved you back then too, Lan Zhan. I just didn't know. I wasn't really thinking about sex then. I knew you were beautiful. More beautiful than any of the girls I'd ever met. And I liked watching you on the field. And I liked touching you when you'd let me. And when we shared the same bed, I liked feeling you next to me. And I loved the way you smelled. Loved stealing your hoodies to wear when you traveled to your away games. And yeah, I was excited to see you because every time was like the first time. But I didn't know what all that meant back then. I thought I was supposed to marry a girl, even though it sounded boring and lame.

"I just thought when it came down to it, when the moment happened my body would kick in and know what to do. But the moment happened and the only way I could get through it was thinking about you. I didn't want to be touched by her. I wanted your hands. But by the time I realized it, it was too late."

Lan Zhan says the words he'd held back from asking.

"She was pregnant, wasn't she?"

Wei Ying seems surprised, but nods. "How'd you know?"

"You introduced me to a girl I'd never even heard of out of the blue, and I can count backwards from 10."

"Yeah. She was pregnant," he admits. "A drunken fling from one of Huaisang's parties. I never expected to see her again. It's not like it was good sex. Like, at all. But then she shows up with some test results and tells me it's mine. I just wanted to do the right thing."

"Hey," he says softly. "You did. Look at your life now, Wei Ying. A-Yuan is happy and healthy. You are thriving. Everything turned out for the best."

Wei Ying intertwines their fingers, stroking the side of his hand with his thumb. "I wouldn't trade him for the world Lan Zhan. But I missed you. The entire time, I just remembered the look on your face when you met her. How fast you ran out of the restaurant. It fucking killed me."

"It wasn't a fond memory for me either."

He gives a small, half smile and squeezes Lan Zhan's hand. "Sometimes I relive that night without her in it. Imagine what you would have said to me if she wasn't there. How different our lives could have been. But every time I feel so much guilt because if there hadn't been that, there wouldn't be my son."

He's only ever remembered his own pain from that night. He never saw Wei Ying's. Now it's painted on his face, saturated in his words. He feels no consolation to have his company in misery, it only makes feel that much more tragic. Maybe they couldn't have the moment then. Maybe the years they lost together are the price they had to pay for the ones they'll grow into.

Maybe their moment is now.

He moves to stand in front of Wei Ying, tilting his chin up so he can look into his eyes. They're misty and and he's got a slight blush to his nose. Lan Zhan uses the pad of his thumb to swipe away a tear on the edge of falling.

"I would have told you that I had something to tell you." When he registers the meaning of what Lan Zhan is saying, Wei Ying sucks in a breath. "I would tell you that while I hoped it wouldn't ruin our friendship, I couldn't keep it inside any longer. That my thoughts had become consumed with you and whenever you're near me, I can't think about anything else. Whenever you're not with me, I wonder where you are and what you're doing.

"If you hadn't stopped me by then, if you wore the look you wear right now, I would have continued. Told you I dreamt of all the ways I could pleasure you, body mind and soul. That I would gladly spend my life learning new ways to take you apart and put you back together. That I want to know what every part of you tastes like… starting here." He swipes his thumb over Wei Ying's lips and they part for him naturally. If he presses his thumb in, Wei Ying might close his mouth around it and the thought makes him shiver.

He leans down, so close they breathe each other's air, and cups the side of his face with his hand. Wei Ying leans into it, his eyes fluttering shut just for a moment. He waits until they open again to continue. "I would have asked if I could kiss you."

Wei Ying nods slowly, and he closes the last remaining distance between their lips. He's sure Wei Ying can hear his heart pounding, he must see how hard it is to hold himself back. His hands are trembling with the need to close around him. He wants to devour him, but he can still hear the sounds of life proving they aren't alone. The privacy their corner affords them is not enough, so he keeps the kiss soft and gentle. When he pulls way, Wei Ying chases him for more, pouting adorably when Lan Zhan doesn't give in.

"I've loved you my whole life, Wei Ying. I just never dreamed you could ever be mine."

"I've always been yours." His eyes are earnest, his heart completely open. Wei Ying offers himself so completely without holding anything back. He looks at him and sees that old farmhouse with the creaky wooden floors and the overflowing gardens. The white picket fence and the loud dinners full of laughter.

Wei Ying hesitates before asking the next question. "So what does this mean for us? Are we like, together? Are you still leaving?"

Lan Zhan knew the question was coming, and the answer's been forming for a while. He thinks he might be half crazy, and he doesn't know how Wei Ying will react to hearing his plans. He tells him anyway.

"Adam controls all of our finances. He set up the account, he manages the payments, the contracts, the brand deals. Everything. All of our income is in an account I don't have access to beyond a debit card. He promised if I allowed the use of my image through January, we'd split the assets evenly and have a clean break. It's the only reason I had to go back."

"And if you walk away sooner.. You'll lose everything? How much money is that, Lan Zhan?"

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. It's not an insignificant sum of money, but I've never cared to ask. I have my own savings, and the residual inheritance from my mother. I won't be destitute. But yes, I will lose most of the assets I've gained over the last decade, including the apartment."

"So, we just wait until January?" He's trying not to sound disappointed, but he's not good enough an actor to hide it from Lan Zhan.

"No. I post a video tonight to my social media accounts announcing our breakup. It might cause a flurry of activity for a while, but as long as I maintain a low profile the followers will lose interest."

Wei Ying snaps his head up, not expecting Lan Zhan's response. "So you're walking away? Letting him have everything?"

He'd decided the moment Wei Ying walked into the bar tonight. He wants nothing else but to be near him.

"Everything I need is right here, and it's not something he can take away." He pulls Wei Ying off the wall and into his arms, cradling his head against his chest. He feels perfect there, like he was made to fit against him.

Wei Ying wraps his arms around his waist and they sway together as the music plays on. "I can't believe you'd give up being rich for me."

"Mmh. Wei Ying can be my sugar mama."

"Lan Zhan! Who taught you that? Come here," he grins, pulling him down for another kiss. A little longer, a little less innocent. He's panting by the time he pulls away, knowing in his heart there's no amount of anything he wouldn't give for Wei Ying.

—

He posts the video later that night. It takes a few tries; he loathes seeing himself on camera and how it feels stiff and forced.

He starts with the news of their separation and the date it took place. He then addresses the content his ex has been making over the previous weeks, denying his involvement and apologizes for not publicly making a statement sooner. Lastly, he wishes Adam well, and expresses his hope they can move on amicably in the future.

When he's satisfied that it's as good as it's going to get, he cycles through his open tabs and submits it to all of his social media accounts.

He closes the laptop and puts his phone on silent. Tomorrow, he might very well wake to a shit storm. Tonight though, he can revel in the feeling of Wei Ying on his lips a little longer, and remember how it felt to hold him until he finally drifts to sleep.

Chapter Text

He wakes to the glorious sounds of lawn maintenance, slowly opening eyes to the low purr of the mower. He imagines Wei Ying for a moment, sweat glistening on his sun darkened skin, before he realizes he doesn't have to imagine.

He throws open the curtains and looks down to find him right below his window. The motion must have caught Wei Ying's attention because he's already looking up, hand raised and waving, grin wild and happy. He basks in the comfort of gazing at his every tomorrow.

He's antsy having him so close but still out of touch so he keeps his normal morning routine, jogging up the mountain to order his thoughts at the overlook. He'll have to look at his phone eventually, but he needs just a few more hours of a buffer between his decision and its consequences.

His muscles are singing as he makes his way up hill, the burn stretching from his glutes through his calves. He gets carried away in regulating his breathing, focusing on nothing but the sweet inhale of morning air and the glorious exhale of all of his stress. By the time he reaches the top, he's completely exhausted and slightly overheated.

The damp blades of soft grass cool him quickly as he stares upwards at the light streaming through the cover of tree tops. And that's where his anxiety catches up with him.

The thoughts trickle in all at once, fighting for dominance in his head. He'd never openly defied Adam's wishes before. In private, he told him no. Not as much before their honest relationship ended, but definitely after. His "no" never amounted to much because only Adam heard it. When it came to their public face, he'd always cooperated.

Though he'd put his foot down last week and told Adam he was done, he knows he wasn't taken seriously. Adam most likely thought he could wait Lan Zhan out and once he calmed down he'd be able to manipulate him once again. It's why he kept up the charade, posted the fake phone calls, and led everyone to believe Lan Zhan was still invested in their relationship.

But last night, he'd gone public. Adam had no power to edit his words and paint the story with colors he'd chosen. It feels equal parts freeing and terrifying. Freeing in that he's finally made a change for himself that can't be undone. He'd taken his name back and put it under his own control. Terrifying in that Adam won't let this go easily.

He's not sure what he'll pull, and he knows the man has tricks in his arsenal. He knows Wei Ying's name as well, but there's nothing he can do to change that at this point. He'll have to measure the response and judge the correct action. If it means keeping distance between them until this all blows over, he'll have to do it. He's loathe to, but he won't let their lives be dragged into the toxic cesspool of parasocial fan behavior.

When he gets back to the house, the morning is quiet again. He doesn't see any sign of him in the yards, and the equipment's been packed up. It's a little disappointing; he'd headed back earlier than normal in hopes he'd run into him. He gives a quick nod to his uncle as he heads upstairs, but the man is too engrossed in a book to return the greeting.

His running clothes are drenched and clinging to his body, and he starts disrobing before even making it to his room. He tosses his shirt into the hamper by the door before hooking his thumbs into the waist band of his shorts. It's that exact moment he notices Wei Ying in the corner, frozen in perfect pounce position.

"Don't let me stop you," Wei Ying grins, flicking his gaze down to Lan Zhan's waist. "Please… continue."

"Wei Ying!" he exclaims, hushing himself at the last minute lest his uncle investigate the commotion. "What are you—"

He's silenced with a kiss. Wei Ying has barely cooled from his work in the yard, and he still smells of grass and sun and sweat. He'll need to air out the room after this, he's certainly no bed of roses himself.

It takes no more than a second for his brain to kick online and remind him that he's kissing Wei Ying. His hands wrap around those narrow hips and he flips their bodies so he can walk him back into the bedroom wall. He cages him there, enjoying the way his eyes fade from mischievous to lust filled.

"Does anyone know you're up here?"

Wei Ying's eyes flutter and he shakes his head quickly. "Just you."

Lan Zhan nips at his jaw, causing Wei Ying to squirm against him.

"So I can do anything I want to you, and no one would know."

"Fuck," Wei Ying breathes, and he can already feel his erection pressing into his thigh. "What are you going to do to me?"

Lan Zhan backs away, sliding his shorts off and baring himself completely. Wei Ying's fuck is more of a groan this time, but instead of resuming his place he walks into the en suite and turns on the shower.

He lifts his eyebrow in an invitation and Wei Ying scrambles to take his clothing off as well as he follows. His body is toned by dancing and manual labor, but he eats enough to soften out the hard edges and Lan Zhan makes no attempt to hide his admiration, running his eyes up and down and planning where he wants his marks to land. He quickly decides spend the rest of summer on his luscious inner thighs and the entirety of fall on his stomach.

"Like what you see, baobao?"

Lan Zhan growls his answer as he pulls the man against him again, now with no scrap of fabric between them. They make out as the water warms up, giving him plenty of time to learn just how responsive Wei Ying is to his touch. The way he shudders when their cocks brush together, and his quite little whimpers every time Lan Zhan's finds a new spot to nibble.

He's especially sensitive around his nipples, a fact he'd learned as a teen and had been haunted with since. The water's already steaming by the time Lan Zhan's satisfied with his work and he shoves him inside, turning him around in the process so that Wei Ying's arms are propping himself up against the black and white tiles.

He uses his body wash to clean him head to toe, taking a silent thrill in having him saturated in his scent. He plants hot kisses down his spine as he works, reaching a hand around to stroke him gently as Wei Ying begs for more. He's waited too long for this, he won't rush it.

Wei Ying tries to turn around but he grabs his hips with a bruising grip, pulling his ass out and nudging his legs apart with his foot. He massages his cheeks, Wei Ying's ample ass filling his hands. When he drops to his knees and spreads them apart, Wei Ying gasps above him, tensing but not pulling away. By his reaction, Lan Zhan wonders if anyone's ever kissed him here.

He flattens his tongue and licks a fat stripe over his hole and Wei Ying is loud. His voice echoes in the bathroom. The shower might cover some of the noise, but anyone walking by his bedroom would definitely hear them. He pulls away and nips him lightly on his right cheek.

"Does Wei Ying need help staying quiet?"

"No, I'm sorry. I'll be good," Wei Ying pleads, shoving his ass out. So he likes it, Lan Zhan smiles to himself, resuming his work. He makes Wei Ying hold himself open for him and continues without abandon. Flattening his tongue, then forcing it into a point, circling his rim and then gently sucking on it. He keeps him between a soft and hard touch, caressing and nibbling, sucking and pushing in.

Wei Ying is fighting back noises. A few escape here and there and Lan Zhan punishes him by backing away and blowing on him lightly, teasing him with a hint of pressure until he takes pity on him and dives back in.

"Lan Zhan, please, touch me," Wei Ying pants, his legs shaking and the left side of his face pressed against the tile. "Please.. Need you.."

He stands up, and turns Wei Ying around, burying his head in his neck as he wraps his hand around both of their throbbing erections. It only takes a few strokes like that, both of them rutting into his firm grip, before Wei Ying is coming. He keeps pumping his hips, chasing his own release to the sounds of Wei Ying's choked off gasps until he's spilling over his hand and painting Wei Ying's taut stomach.

They stand there together, dazed, and then Wei Ying starts laughing. Loud, raucous belly laughs he has to cover his mouth to stifle.

Lan Zhan stares at him in mild confusion, a smile pulling at the edges on his own lips seeing his lover so happy.

"What?" He finally breaks as tears come out of Wei Ying's eyes.

"Last night, you said you wanted to know what every part of me tastes like. I thought it was a metaphor or something." Wei Ying speaks between wheezes, but his laughing fit is easing. "That felt so fucking good, by the way."

"Mmh. I know. I could hear you."

He turns off the water, grabbing a couple towels from the shelves to dry each other off. They exchange lazy kisses back and forth, a nip here or there, a love bite where their clothes will cover.

He almost forgets the storm cloud looming over his head until he hears the vibrations his phone makes on his nightstand. They're persistent. If his phone wasn't charging, it would surely be dead by now.

He loans Wei Ying a change of clothes. They're slightly too big and it fills him with a feeling of possession. He's in his clothes, smelling like him, with his marks all over his body and Lan Zhan can't imagine a better way to start his day.

"I saw your post last night," Wei Ying says as they lie on his bedspread, Lan Zhan's arm around him. "Did you look at the responses yet?"

"I'm about to. I've been… procrastinating."

"Do you want me to be here?" Wei Ying props himself up and looks down at him, beads of water still dripping from his hair where the towel hadn't soaked them up. His brows are furrowed in concern, and as much as he would love his presence, he doesn't want him to be anywhere near this toxic mess.

"No. But I may call you if it becomes too much."

"Of course." Wei Ying kisses him again, gentle and sweet, smiling the entire time. "Oh! Xichen asked to meet up tonight to have a serious discussion. Did you already tell him? Am I about to get the shovel talk?"

He remembers what Xichen had mentioned before. It was probably to tell him the news and make him an official offer. Wei Ying would be gobsmacked. He'd probably refuse initially, thinking it would force Xichen to stay. Then he'd feel guilty keeping him from his husband and reluctantly agree. Then he'd bounce off the walls in excitement for at least a couple of weeks.

"I haven't told anyone yet. But I don't think it's anything bad. Xichen thinks the world of you."

Wei Ying rolls his eyes. "Trust me, I know. He's been offloading half his job to me lately.

"Mmh. I will tell brother he's being too lazy."

"Lan Zhan! No! First rule of our relationship, no telling my boss when I complain about him!"

Wei Ying jumps as the door sounds—    Xichen's three knocks. He doesn't poke his head in this time, thankfully.

"Wangji, there's a light breakfast downstairs when you're ready."

"Mmh, thank you ge. I'll be down soon."

There's a few moments of silence before Xichen speaks again. "Tell Wei Ying he's invited as well."

—

The house clears out after breakfast. Wei Ying has to pick A-Yuan up from a friend's house and Xichen mentions something about running errands in town. A few looks were exchanged when the two came down together, but Xichen and his uncle keep their thoughts to themselves.

Afterward, his uncle invites him to sit in the gardens. It's a recent indulgence for him, something he's learned to find solace in now that he's no longer needed in a professional capacity.

"Wei Ying looked in good spirits this morning." His uncle stares ahead, but he thinks he might see the traces of a held back smile. "You as well."

"Mmh. Uncle, I have something to tell you."

"If it's about Adam, don't bother. I already know."

"Xichen told you?"

"He didn't have to. Some things are obvious, Wangji. Not as obvious as you two were this morning, but still obvious enough."

It shuts him up. His uncle had rarely been so candid, preferring to dance around things rather than mention them outright. He blames Wei Ying's influence, but doesn't find he minds it.

"Listen, Wangji. When you were in school, I can admit I thought Wei Ying might have been a bad influence on you. Before you met him, you never spoke out of turn. You were rule abiding, filial, never gave me cause to worry.

"Then you met Wei Ying and he was loud. Brash. Full of half cocked ideas. And you'd sneak out at night. You talked back. For a time, I thought I was going to lose you." His uncle laughs, but it's slightly bitter.

"Then you went your separate ways and I actually lost you. I was foolish back then. I didn't fully understand what you two meant to each other.

"When Wei Ying came back, he was half dead. There was no more spark in his eyes. He didn't smile. He didn't laugh. He didn't fight me on anything. It was 'Yes, sir. No, sir. I'm sorry, sir.' And it broke this old man's heart. He didn't have an ounce of fight left in him. I just stayed as patient as I could, and hoped he'd figure out he was safe here.

"One day a few months after he arrived, he came to me terrified. Nervous. Shaking in his combat boots. He said he had a couple of friends that he missed. He was living in the groundskeeper's cottage at the time with A-Yuan. He said they could help out anyway we needed. And if it wasn't enough, he'd get a second job.

"He'd finally asked for something he wanted. He trusted me enough to come to me and make that request. And I knew he'd be okay then. Both him and his son. He's gotten better and better every day since.

His uncle turns to him, with a softness in his eyes he hasn't seen since he was a young child. "As he got better, you got worse. The light that came back from his eyes faded from yours. And the more Xichen and I tried to reach you, the more you fought against it.

"There was a night earlier this year you called Xichen and he stayed up half the night talking to you. And after that, I didn't see as much of you when I watched the videos, but what I saw of you had changed. You were closed off. Shut down. You were polite as ever, but I could see something had changed. And when you showed up without him I kind of figured things had ended. Otherwise, he wouldn't have let you out of his sight." His tone grows bitter as he says the last part.

"Uncle-" he tries, but the older man cuts him off.

"I could tell it the only time I met him. He looked at you, not to you. He talked at you, not to you. You were a status symbol for him. Something to boost his own rotten ego. I've met plenty of men like him over the years. Including my own brother."

Lan Zhan's mouth snaps shut. He'd never heard his uncle talk ill of his father. He'd never heard him talk about the man at all after their mother died. Something must show on his face because Qiren sets his hand atop his own.

"It's okay. Some things are easier to see from the outside. You were too deep in it, Wangji. Maybe if I had talked to you about your parents, you might have seen the clues. I just wanted to protect you, and it backfired."

"It's not your fault." He's not just saying it to console his uncle. He never knew the man harbored this much guilt. "I was stubborn. And lonely. It's a bad combination."

"You were young and inexperienced," his uncle corrects him. "But we can't change what's happened, can we?" Qiren looks back at the turtles poking their heads out of the pond. "I'm telling you this because you boys have been through a lot of hurt to get here. You both deserve happiness. But Wei Ying is a father now, Wangji. He needs stability. He needs to know you're going to stick around, and so does A-Yuan."

The realization hits him like a slap to the face. "Uncle, are you giving me a shovel talk on Wei Ying's behalf?"

Qiren chuckles a few times, patting his hand. "Of course I am. I'm sitting on five acres, Wangji. But don't be jealous, he'll get one as well. I'll bury you both side by side if I have to."

"Perhaps you should stop spending so much time with Wen Qing," Lan Zhan suggests. Qiren just shrugs.

They watch a while longer, until Qiren starts nodding off and he brings him back home for a nap. Before they go inside, he pulls him into an unexpected hug. His uncle is shocked, but his hands come up to pat Lan Zhan's back, the same as they had patted Wei Ying's.

"Thank you though, Uncle. For bringing Wei Ying back. I promise to make sure you'll never have to again."

—

It's a little while later that he finally turns on his phone. It hasn't quite been 24 hours since he posted the update, but his phone has been vibrating with notifications non-stop.

He unlocks it and starts with his messages app. He's got over 300 from an unknown number—Adam. Below are text updates from his social media channels, a two step authorization request from his personal YouTube channel (Adam must have tried logging in to delete the video), texts from many of their mutual friends, a text from Mianmian, and a few from Wei Ying.

He starts with Adam, and it's exactly what he expects. A litany of curses, a page or two of threats, a plea for him to take down the video, more angry cursing, more threats, and finally a crashing out of nonsensical begging.

He moves down the list without responding. He reads through their mutual friends messages and is shocked to find a well of support. They'd been Adam's friends primarily, or contacts he made after they started dating. Lan Zhan had always been polite to them, but never initiated much contact. There was a repeated thread through the messages that disturbed him. "We don't believe him, Wangji."

Oh, no. He opens his YouTube app and the video is the first thing he sees. Adam, tear stained face, with the halo of his ring light reflected in his eyes. He holds his breath and presses play.

He skips the usual intro music and goes straight into it. His voice is shaky, his shoulders trembling. He stares at the camera for a while before talking, letting the microphone pick up ragged breathing.

"I want to start by thanking everyone for their outpouring of support. Without your text messages, your comments, and of course your likes and follows, I don't know if I could make it through this tough time.

"As you know, Wangji and I have shared everything with you over the past 6 or 7 years. Us falling in love, us starting a life together, us navigating through our ups and downs, and now, us breaking up."

He stops here to lower his head, and when he comes back up there are more tears streaming down his face. "It saddens me to no end that I have to learn with all of you, in real time... all of it was a lie. I had my own suspicions that he was hiding who he really was. His persona, what you all loved, was the effort of long days in the editing room. I thought if I cut out all the bad moments, we could leave them behind. I just wanted you to see what I saw in him. What I thought I saw, rather."

He pauses, looking up and to the right dramatically, shaking his head back and forth as if there's a thought he can't bear thinking.

"The truth is, I could never compete with Wangji's first love and he never missed an opportunity to remind me. I lacked in every way. What you saw on camera was Wangji pretending to be someone he's not. Whether it was for money, for popularity, I don't know. All I know is that he couldn't keep lying to us anymore.

"Yes, I wish he'd told me directly. I wish I didn't have to learn of our breakup from logging into my YouTube account. But I can only respect his wishes at this point. He no longer has to pretend.

"So thank you to our adoring fans who have stuck with us all this time. I understand how you must feel. If anyone knows how it feels to be strung along and lied to, it's me. But I invite you to stay with me during this time. Wangji won't be appearing on the channel anymore, but I'll still be creating content about life after heartbreak.

"I love each any every one of you. And Wangji, if you're watching, I hope you find peace with who you really are."

The camera cuts off abruptly, and he sees his stunned expression in the black screen. Against his better judgment, he scrolls through the comments. They're not pretty. He's accused of being a narcissist, a cheater, a user. Some say they never trusted him. And there are a few heavily downvoted comments he has to click on to read. "Didn't he fake phone calls with Wangji? Did he address why he pretended they were still dating? The math isn't mathing here."

He tosses his phone down. At least their mutual friends saw through his act, but most of their followers seem to believe Adam's side of things. He remembers Wei Ying's texts and opens them up.

From: Wei Ying
It's cool to tell ppl we're dating right

From: Wei Ying
cuz I kind of already told qingqing bc she saw us making out at the bar, and of course mianmian knows bc she was making out with wen qing at the bar, and wen ning knows against his will because his sister wouldn't stop talking about making out with mianmian at the bar, and I cant keep secrets from my son Lan Zhan you just can't make me

From: Wei Ying
Also pretty sure Uncle Q heard me in the shower, and ur brother asked me if I needed a raise to buy my own clothes

From: Wei Ying
I also told the barista just now about how I want my coffee as hot as my boyfriend but she doesn't know who either of us are so im not sure if it counts

From: Wei Ying
don't go on youtube. Ur ex told a lot of lies. Except the one about never being able to compete with me, that ones true   

From: Wei Ying
want me to blow off your brother tonight and you can come over?

The last text was right before he'd checked his phone. He taps out a short reply.

To: Wei Ying
We can send out an email blast, it will save time. I've seen the video and I'm still processing it, but I am okay. Please, enjoy dinner with Xichen. If you'd like me to come over after, I am amenable.

The reply is instantaneous.

From: Wei Ying
!!! Star Wars marathon! We're low on snacks so bring whatever u wanna munch on (besides me)

He sends a thumbs up emoji, and the knowledge he'll be sharing a blanket with Wei Ying tonight calms the majority of his anxiety. He knew Adam's response would hurt. He didn't expect it to be an outright misrepresentation of the truth, but he'd underestimated the man's character for years.

The people that know him know better. Maybe he'll be a pariah to millions of internet strangers. Maybe his entertainment career is over. That's not even a real loss; he never wanted one to begin with. When he examines what this has all cost him, he's really only down a life he didn't enjoy.

What he's gained, though, is everything.

—

"He's leaving." Wei Ying answers the door and it's obvious he'd been crying. He's got his full length fuzzy cardigan wrapped tightly around his shoulders and he looks so small. 

"Mmh. Mingue's situation turned permanent. He didn't have much of a choice." He steps inside, pulling Wei Ying by the hand to the couch and then into his lap. "But he didn't make the decision lightly."

"I know. It's just, I thought I would have so much more time with him. Now he's going to be an ocean away. And I'm going to be in charge, Lan Zhan. Me! I thought maybe he'd lost his mind, or had a stroke or something."

"Brother chose the best person for the role."

"Aren't you the best person? Your college had ivy, and mine was on a computer screen."

"Wei Ying," he scolds. "You have a way with people I could only imitate, and poorly at that. In addition, you are brilliant. You trust the right people, and you have an impeccable judge of character."

"Yeah well, I got burned once. Literally, from those damned pots. Now I don't trust so easy." He nuzzles into Lan Zhan's shoulder, hiding his face. "You really think I'm the right choice?"

"Yes. And I will be there with you, every step of the way."

"I told him I'd think about it, but I wanted to talk to you first. Not because I thought you'd be jealous or anything, but I'm technically going to be your boss. If you stay, that is."

"And how exactly is that a problem?" 

"It means you'll have to do whatever I say when I say it."

"I think I could grow rather amenable to that arrangement." He pulls Wei Ying into a kiss to show him exactly how amenable he could be.

Wei Ying recovers from the trauma relatively quickly, mostly because he's drunk on Lan Zhan's affections. They're trading popcorn back and forth on the couch, A-Yuan sneaking glances at them every so often and rolling his eyes. He's smiling though, thrilled to see his baba so happy.

Jin Ling is noticeably absent. 

"He's been in a funk the past few days. I think he might be homesick," Wei Ying had explained when he asked. "He just needs some space, I think." He makes a mental note to check in on him Monday. It's not uncommon for kids to get homesick during summer vacation, but something about the boy's demeanor when he comes down for a drink of water unsettles him and he wonders if his problems aren't so surface level.

His phone vibrates halfway through the movie. He'd silenced most of his texts, so whatever's coming through must be important. He checks it to find something from Xichen. At first he thinks he might be checking on Wei Ying, but he opens the message to see a link.

From: Ge
Huaisang sent this over. I thought you should see it.

It's directs him to a video and he almost drops the phone when he sees who it is. Adam's assistant, the one he'd walked in on. He doesn't look as dramatically torn apart as his ex. His demeanor is far more calm and controlled.

Wei Ying pauses the movie and asks A-Yuan to give them a moment. Once the boy leaves the room, Lan Zhan presses play.

"My name is Kyle and I worked as Adam Carpenter's assistant for the previous two years, though our relationship predates my employment. I debated whether or not it was appropriate to post this video, considering that Wangji has requested privacy during this time. However, after seeing Adam's response video, I feel it is my duty to correct some of the facts that have been misrepresented to his followers.

"Before I begin I would like to apologize to Wangji, if he's watching. I do not expect forgiveness, but I am sorry for my involvement."

He takes a deep breath, then stares cooly at the camera.

"Adam and I began our relationship about three years ago, without Wangji's knowledge. During that time, Adam told me many things about Wangji that turned out to be blatant misrepresentations of the truth, or in more simpler terms, complete lies.

"Moreover, I am not the only relationship Adam engaged in during this time. I will not name the individuals, but I would expect more people to make statements in the near future.

"The accusations Adam has leveled at Wangji are entirely baseless. I've witnessed Adam's ability to manipulate and gaslight firsthand, and have evidence in the form of text messages and emails to prove my statements are not defamatory and based in fact.

"It is my wish that those who view his video do so with a grain of salt. He is a serial cheater and uses his position to exploit-" Lan Zhan stops the video mid sentence.

The only sounds are those of the house settling and Wei Ying tapping his fingers nervously against the blanket. He's studying him intently, looking for signs that Lan Zhan might break down. A few months ago, he might have. Not now. He has too much to ground him and enough people he cares about by his side. There's embarrassment that anyone would feel. Shame that he'd been so blind to Adam's ways. 

"Do you want me to kill him? I'd be clean. Bash his head in with one of those pots. The motive list would be thousands of people long."

And now it's his turn to laugh. Just like Wei Ying had this morning in the shower, deep and from his belly. Until there were tears in his eyes. Nothing was particularly funny. If anything, it was the natural reaction to the stress evaporating from his body.

Kyle's video had gone viral and the responses he skimmed were supportive. More people would come forward and it would be uncomfortable over the next few weeks. But it was over and Wei Ying's name had never been brought up.

"Lan Zhan? Baobao? Are you broken?" Wei Ying shakes him, poking at his cheeks and pulling on his earlobe in a mock examination.

"Not anymore. You can call A-Yuan back in." And Wei Ying does, though not without stealing a couple of kisses first.

They continue as before, snuggling together while the movie plays. Wei Ying explains all the details he's missed and gives exposition that he doesn't think he'll need. But it makes him happy so he listens, hooked on every word.

A-Yuan passes out before the second movie so he carries him to bed. Wei Ying watches in the doorway as he tucks the boy in, leaning his head against the door frame and smiling fondly.

"I could get used to this," he whispers as Lan Zhan comes out, the door softly tapping shut behind him. "Sleep over? My bed's not as comfy, but it has me in it."

They abandon the movie for Wei Ying's bedroom. He's right, it's not as comfortable. The mattress is older, a little on the hard side with a broken spring, and the blankets are thin. He thinks back to his cold office/bedroom with the gorgeous view and little else. How empty his life had been and how it practically overflows now. Comfortable or not, he'd choose Wei Ying's bed every night if he could, happily and without regret.

Chapter Text

Stepping into his classroom after such a tumultuous week almost feels like a treat. The children are blissfully unaware of the dramatics surrounding his personal life, save for A-Qing who gives him an unexpected leg hug before she takes her seat.

The majority of the beginners have made incredible progress over the last few weeks and he has ways of minimizing the impact of the stragglers. He's confident in a good showing with the beginner class, even if (as Wei Ying intimated) it's only for the kids.

It's not until his intermediate class that he struggles. There's tension in the room absent from his other two classes and it seems to swell around Jin Ling. He's more listless today, stuck in his own world and Lan Zhan is having a hard time reaching him. The other kids notice and he's caught more than a couple snide comments in passing.

It's nothing he can't handle with a stern look, but it troubles him to see the boy backsliding before he'd set a firm foundation for himself. After class, he asks him to stay behind and the boy obliges, not without a stubborn look affixed to his face.

"You don't seem like yourself, Jin Ling. Is something troubling you?"

The boy's face had been stoic most of the class, but now it crumples under the weight of a simple question. He fights back tears, stubbornly wiping a few away and turning his face. His small hands are balled into fists; he's a mess of defensive energy.

"I was thinking maybe you shouldn't have picked me." Lan Zhan has to strain his ears to hear him; there's no confidence in the boys speech and it barely registers above a whisper. He's not the same child that stood up for himself a few weeks ago, standing toe to toe with Lan Zhan and fighting for his chance.

"Can you explain why you feel that way?" Wei Ying hadn't mentioned anything happening, apart from the suspected home sickness.

"Do you know what a nepo baby is?"

He'd heard the term bounced around. Adam used it a couple of times in the context of celebrity culture. But he couldn't see how it applied to Jin Ling and said as much.

"My uncle's a teacher here, and A-Yuan is my cousin. The kids in class think I only got the solo position because of my family's connections. They don't think I earned my spot. And with the announcement this morning…"

Lan Zhan leans back in his chair and sighs. How the term "nepo baby" applies to an end of year talent show, he's not quite sure. But things are as important as you make them, and the fact the kids are placing so much importance on the event shows they take it seriously at least.

"When I accepted you as a soloist, I had no idea Wei Ying was your uncle until you mentioned it."

The boy's mouth falls open. "You really didn't? Not even an inkling?"

"No. I chose you based on your confidence and willingness to overcome your obstacles to improve at your craft. Whether or not you are the best performer in the class makes no difference to me. I chose you based on your passion."

"But no one else knows that!"

"So show them. Just like you showed me. We have three weeks left until the showcase and you've already improved drastically since our first lesson."

His spine is straighter and he's relaxed his hands. "You really think I'll be good enough to show them?"

"Maybe. It's quite possible you have a phenomenal performance and they still refer to you as a 'nepo baby'. But it doesn't matter; your measure of success should be determined by intrinsic standards."

The boy thinks about that for a moment, and he doesn't seem entirely convinced. It's apparent he wants the kids to respect him. Lan Zhan remembers being his age and how important the approval of one's peers could be to one's self esteem. But he has also seen the extreme version of a person hooked on the approval of strangers. He doesn't want that for Jin Ling, not in the slightest.

"Jin Ling, there is only one metric I'm looking for when the talent show ends. It's not the applause, or the praise of the fellow teachers. It's the look on your face when you're done. If I look at you and see that you're proud of your accomplishment, then I've done my job well.

"If you're disappointed in yourself, then I've failed to prepare you properly. That is the role of a teacher. Your role is to practice, improve, and be open and honest with me about your needs. Everything else is extraneous."

He's not entirely sure he has the boy convinced, but there is a marked difference in his demeanor. His shoulders are squared and he sees determination in him.

"Thank you, Mr. Lan. I'll think about everything you said." He shuffles around for a moment, then runs at him and wraps his hands around his waist for a quick hug. Before Lan Zhan can even adjust, he's running out the door and disappearing down the hallway.

—

Now that Wei Ying is officially stepping into the director role, Lan Zhan sees him far less throughout the day. He'd used to get a visit or two when Wei Ying was bored or lonely between his classes, but no matter how many times he looks at the doorway, it remains empty.

He gets texts constantly though, his number one of the few Lan Zhan hasn't muted. They're the disconnected pieces of Wei Ying's stream of inner monologues and rarely can he follow the string of steps Wei Ying takes between one thought and the next. They calm him though, and the anxiety he used to associate with text messages has morphed into the excitement to check his phone immediately.

Midday, Xichen informs him that Huaisang will be joining them for dinner, and strongly insinuates he should be in attendance. Mingue's little brother is his polar opposite: talkative, a gossip, and particularly good at getting others to solve his own problems. Regardless, he'd been a good friend to Wei Ying and could always be counted upon in a pinch. Though the situation he's navigating currently is more of a vice's grip than a pinch, he won't spurn any attempts at his brother's attempts to help. Especially considering the few months he has left with him nearby.

Wei Ying attends and brings the boys. They stay out of the way for the most part, exploring the grounds and finding their own innocent troubles, and Lan Zhan is pleasantly surprised at how nice it feels to have everyone together under one roof. He resolves to spend more moments like these while they can and save up the memories for those times Xichen's absence might take a toll on him.

They talk pleasantries before dinner. Huaisang catches them up on his latest endeavors, and it's no surprise he sent Kyle's link to Xichen. He's a social media manager, specializing in non human clients. His most profitable is a bulldog with a propensity toward riding skateboards.

"I'm closing a deal right now for a cat that talks through buttons." The way he crosses his fingers as he mentions the deal shows its importance.

Most of the group seems entertained by his tales, but Qiren looks downright confused. He does offer up the turtles in the pond out of politeness, but Huaisang explains in all seriousness that turtles are hard to market.

"You might get a viral video here or there, but it's hard to solidify a brand. Pigs though, surprisingly endearing."

Wen Qing announces dinner is ready, much to Lan Zhan's surprise. He'd gotten caught up in the conversation and forgot to step away to make his own meal. Passing through the dining room, he found it was unnecessary. His plate is waiting for him in his usual spot, precisely the way he would have cooked it himself.

He tries to catch her eyes, but she's hurrying back into the kitchen before he has the opportunity to make mention of it.

—

Wei Ying lights up the fire pit after dinner, a more recent installation as Qiren began spending more time outside. Despite it being summer, the nights could still get pretty cool at this elevation. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to Wei Ying's quiet thoughtfulness.

"So, Wangji. What are your plans for the channel? It's been several days and you haven't made any updates. It's low key killing me." Huaisang speaks directly to him, warming his hands as the fire crackles. The question catches him off guard. Somehow Huaisang has misunderstood the situation.

"The channel belongs to Adam. I have no intention of participating anymore."

"Not that channel. Your personal one." Huaisang leans toward him, quirking up one of his eyebrows. "You have looked at your channel since all of this went down."

"I didn't feel a need to," he answers honestly. He'd closed the door on that part of his life.

"Wangji, you have three million followers on your account. When you posted your videos, you had less than 500,000. And this is with no marketing, no engagement, no effort at all on your part."

"Huaisang, I appreciate what you're saying, but I am not interested in maintaining a social media presence. I just ended that chapter of my life."

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. You already have the presence. You have three million people that care enough about you to subscribe to a channel with hardly any public videos.

"You have people wanting to hear your voice, and you can choose what you say to them."

He shakes his head with rising frustration. "I don't want to live my life on camera anymore. It's suffocating, and I would never do to Wei Ying what Adam did to me."

Wei Ying grabs his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. "First, that would never be a thing. It's adorable you think that could be a possibility, but you're a little too protective of me for that to happen, baobao.

"What I think Huaisang is trying to say is that you don't have to do thing's Adam's way. But you have an opportunity to share the things you want to share, in the way you want to share them.

"Look at how much you've done for Jin Ling. What if you shared your methods and you were able to help other teachers connect with their students like that?"

He raises his hand to signal he needs a moment to think, remembering all the studying he did before Jin Ling's first session. It wasn't the literature or printouts that had helped the most, it was a content creator that shared their experiences. And it had helped him, Jin Ling as well.

"Wei Ying's right. You can share as much or as little as you want. And if you really want to close the door on all of this, you can and no one will fault you. But I think you have a great opportunity here, Wangji, and I'd be willing to help you every step of the way."

Xichen had been listening most of the evening, letting Huaisang have the floor, but now he finally speaks up. "Wangji, if I may. Despite your experiences with the channel, being able to log on and see you helped me feel closer to you. It may be selfish, but with the time difference between us, it wouldn't be the worst thing to be able to keep tabs on you."

An hour ago, he wouldn't have imagined even considering this. They're making solid points, though. Perhaps there is some merit to trying this again with actual control over the end product. It seems foolish to dismiss it entirely, especially if there's a possibility of accomplishing good things with his channel. And Wei Ying seems to be encouraging it as well. If there's anyone's judgment he trusts, it's his boyfriend's.

"I'll think about it. The students are my priority right now, though. Anything regarding the channel will take a back seat to their progress."

Huaisang's grin is blinding. "I can work with that. I've already worked out a couple of concepts. There are also some sponsors I've worked with in the past that should be interested."

"We're not sponsoring anything I haven't approved in advance," Wei Ying interjects, to literally no one's surprise.

—

That night, it takes him a while to fall asleep. So many things have changed in such a short period of time. He'd been willing to consider Huaisang's proposition, but there were still many unknowns.

He'd been taken aback when Huaisang mentioned his follower count and logged onto his account to see for himself. The comments under his last video were overwhelmingly positive. Others were sharing their own experiences with narcissistic partners. He hadn't considered that word could apply to Adam, nor had he thought of himself as a victim of abuse.

After his conversation with his Uncle, he does see similarities between his ex and his father. A couple of commenters suggested how helpful therapy had been in their own situations. It's something to consider, especially now that he has Wei Ying and A-Yuan in his life.

Plink. Plinkplink.

…

Plink.

He shoots out of bed, his body remembering that tapping sound before his mind. He pulls open the curtains to find Wei Ying grinning up at him from below. He beckons to him, similar to the night they'd snuck into the piano room. Stretching out his hand and asking Lan Zhan to join him.

He throws on a pair of sweatpants and his college hoodie, tiptoeing down the stairs like he's in high school again. He even remembers to skip the creaky step that had warned his uncle on more than one occasion.

Wei Ying waits on the stoop, pulling him into a kiss the second he shuts the door behind him.

"What is this?" he asks, not complaining. Wei Ying had only left an hour earlier, but he'd already started to miss him.

"Just something I've been wanting to do ever since I saw you standing in that classroom." Wei Ying's eyes are dancing; he wonders what song is playing in his mind.

Wei Ying parked half a mile down the street and they walk to it hand in hand. It's not necessary, long past are the days where anyone cared how late he stayed out. There's no call for the subterfuge, except for the fun of it.    If Wei Ying wants to pretend, they'll pretend together.

He's not surprised when Wei Ying drives to the school. It's the same place Wei Ying took him the night he got his driver's license. Lan Zhan had been sweating bullets, sure they'd be caught. Wei Ying didn't care, he just wanted the experience while it was still within his grasp.

It's not as thrilling this time; Wei Ying has a key to the building and his own alarm code. "Just pretend we're breaking in?"

Wei Ying leads him down the main hall, but where they'd need to turn left to go to his classroom, Wei Ying turns right. They stop at his dance studio, and Wei Ying makes him close his eyes while he leads him in.

"Sit here, baobao. Keep your hands here, and don't move until I say it's okay. You can open your eyes when you hear the music."

He nods, keeping his eyes closed tight, smiling at the ghost of a kiss he gets on his cheek as Wei Ying slips away. He hears a rustling of fabric, the thunk of shoes hitting the floor, some sort of sweeping noise. And then the music starts and his eyes open.

We are the crowd
We're c'coming out

He opens his eyes to the sound of Lady Gaga's Paparazzi and they fix on Wei Ying. His body is moving in step with the music, a mix of fluid rolls into sudden stops. His body seems to defy the laws of physics, moving so freely it doesn't seem affected by gravity.

And then the chorus hits.

I'm your biggest fan
I'll follow you until you want me
Paparazzi

He's grinning like a fool, but it stops the moment Wei Ying closes in and does a body roll that lights him up from the inside. Before he knows it, his lap is full of him, his chest a heartbeat away from his own, Wei Ying as close as he can be without actually touching skin to skin.

Though he keeps his hands fixed at his side, he can't stop himself from rutting up. Wei Ying taunts him, shaking a finger in his face.

"Be good, Er-gege." And fuck, does he want to be good for him.

He plants his feet and bites his lip, wrangling control of himself while Wei Ying undulates against him. He's never been so turned on in his life, and Wei Ying can see the evidence clear as day. His smile is wicked as his eyes flick down, and his smile is teasing as he leans in.

"Lan Zhan! This is highly inappropriate," he chides him, mockingly. But he's grabbing his skin tight pants and ripping them off, swinging them around before they fly off to the corner. Velcro.

He's in nothing but a red g-string and clearly just as affected as Lan Zhan. "Do you want to touch me, Lan Zhan? Right here, where anyone could see?"

It's after hours and the rooms are dark. There's no chance of being caught but the thrill of it is undeniable. "May I?" His voice is husky with desire. The song is done. Wei Ying is in his lap, chest heaving, rivulets of sweat dripping down his chest and Lan Zhan can't hold back anymore.

The G-string falls apart with a simple tug and Wei Ying's cock is his to worship. Hard and flushed red, slit glistening and inviting him to taste. He lifts him up and spins them around so that Wei Ying is now in the chair and he sinks to his knees.

This may be Wei Ying's fantasy, but it's not too different from his own. Some other time, he'd do it his own way. Tease the man until he cried, keep him on the edge until he was a mess of cum and saliva, hands tied to the headboard and a gag in his mouth if it came down to it.

But tonight, there's no need to control himself. He takes him down and moans at the weight of Wei Ying on his tongue. He's bigger than his fantasies, but not so big he can't take him. He works his mouth down slowly, letting his mouth adjust to his size. It takes a few up and downs to get his cock coated, but the glide is smooth soon after and he bobs his head as Wei Ying makes the soft little noises that drives him crazy.

Wei Ying is telling him to slow down, that he's too close. Any other time he would, but tonight he needs to taste him. Maybe it's the fantasy of getting caught pushing him forward, driving Wei Ying to the edge sooner than he'd normally allow, or maybe it's that this blow job is a decade overdue, but Lan Zhan doesn't slow down. Not when Wei Ying's thrusts become erratic, not when his fingers tighten in his hair to the point of it stinging, and not when he feels his cock grow impossibly harder.

He looks up to find those molten silver eyes staring down at him gives one last hard suck on his tip. Wei Ying explodes in his mouth, cursing the entire time as Lan Zhan swallows his every drop. It's not until he's shuddering and oversensitive that he pulls up, smirking with pride as Wei Ying slumps in the chair in a blissed out daze.

—

The next few weeks fly by. As expected, Adam's online presence tailspins into a glorious crash out as subsequent allegations emerge. He's dragged into legal battles as well, his indecent behaviors considered as breach of contract for a couple of their more wholesome brand deals. Xichen consults attorney's on his behalf, but as Lan Zhan never signed anything and didn't retain any of their assets, his legal liability is negligible.

Wei Ying thrives in the schadenfreude of Adam's demise, finally feeling vindicated for the pots debacle. It didn't hurt that Lan Zhan supplied him with a hand picked set he'd spent an entire weekend researching. Wei Ying had wrapped him in an octopus hug and refused to let go, smothering him with kisses until A-Yuan walked in and gagged at both of them.

The end of year concert comes before he's ready. He's more nervous than the kids, and Wei Ying repeatedly reminds him this is supposed to be fun.

"Last year a fifth grader puked on the stage, and it wasn't even the worst performance."

Now he has a new set of worries.

They watch the majority of the performances together and his boyfriend is quickly proven right. He doesn't have much talent show experience to judge anyone by, but the performances are well below what he knows his students will present. He calms down quite a bit, realizing he might be more competitive than he'd given himself credit for.

Wei Ying's segment is a breath of fresh air. He watches from the wings, where Wei Ying will join him when he doesn't need to be on stage.

The beginner class is nothing but an assortment of wiggles and ill-timed jumps, but fills the crowd with dopamine nonetheless.

His intermediate section is leaps and bounds ahead, utilizing chairs and umbrellas as props. It's actually quite impressive, and Lan Zhan tells him as much.

The expert level brings a smile to his face. It's a Taylor Swift song from the album Wei Ying plays constantly, the one about high school. The kids are dressed like they're at a pep rally and it's good fun.

The solo performances take things to a different level. Wei Ying assists for the beginner level, dressed in all black as to be invisible and helping the youngster do lifts and spins. It's runs the risk of being considered cheating, but not a seat in the audience cares.

His intermediate is a ballet performance, and it's quite a surprise for Lan Zhan. He hadn't known Wei Ying was trained in ballet, but the way he moves should have been an indication. The girl is very well controlled, owning the stage and the audience. She earns the loud cheer when the lights dim, and gives Wei Ying a high five as she exits the stage.

His expert performer is a boy about 16. He's tall for his age and thin, yet considerably toned. When he meets Wei Ying's eyes prior to the performance, he can tell how much respect he has for his teacher. The feeling must be mutual, because this is the first performance Wei Ying holds his breath through.

He dances to Doechii's Anxiety and his body contorts itself into positions Lan Zhan never thought possible. It's like nothing he's ever seen before. Fresh and exciting, and something far more similar to something you'd see on a televised dancing competition than a summer school talent show.

Wei Ying bites his nails the entire time, nodding his head every time the boy hits a specific move or a challenging step. When the music stops, he collapses on the stage, chest heaving, and a look of pure exuberance. He'd nailed it.

Most of the audience roars to their feet, and some lag behind still processing what they'd just seen. He bows to the crowd before jogging off stage. He goes for a high five but Wei Ying picks him up and swirls him around instead.

"You killed it, Bo!" he yells into the boys ear. It's adorable to see the kid blush. Even though he wasn't a day over 16 and no threat at all, Lan Zhan's arm still snakes around Wei Ying's waist as he walks away. A reminder never hurts.

And then it's time for his kids to shine.

His section lasts 20 minutes. Three minutes a piece for the ensembles, and the same for the soloists. On paper, it doesn't seem like a long amount of time. In practice, each minute feels like ten.

His ensemble performances stun the crowd. There are a few mistakes he can hear occasionally, but his ear is much more well trained than the average attendee. The parents seemed happily shocked, their expectations well exceeded. There are some crying eyes, and some proud, puffed out chests. The rest watch in silent amazement.

Wei Ying squeezes his hand. "You did good, kid," he whispers.

The soloists are next. A-Qing has a bit of a tumble coming out, but even the quiet snickers from the audience don't shake her resolve. The girl is unflappable, and her fathers' watch her with pride.

Her start is strong, pulling in the crowd's attention and those that had snickered were no longer laughing. But Lan Zhan was listening to a different story. He'd recorded their first rehearsals and listened to it before coming. A-Qing had finally learned to slow down, to tell her own story through the music instead of repeating it verbatim. He could tell it was still her playing, but she'd made a leap and he'd guided her to do it.

He cleared his throat and Wei Ying gives him a knowing smile. "Incredible, Lan Zhan," he murmurs.

She receives a standing ovation, though he has to admit the audience had awarded them quite liberally throughout the night.

Jin Ling is next to the stage. He's dressed impeccably, and his head held high. He takes his spot at the piano and Lan Zhan sees the same boy that had confronted him 6 weeks ago. He's confident, composed, and his eyes are fierce.

He doesn't start out strong like A-Qing though, and it's a smart choice. The audience is expecting that, and he leads them a different way. It's a beautiful, delicate melody. He'd been adamant about performing this song, even though it was slightly out of his range Lan Zhan supported him.

Wei Ying has his hand in a tight grip, almost so tight he winces and when he looks over he sees tears welling in his eyes.

"This is for Yanli." Wei Ying's sister, and Jin Ling's mother. Jin Ling hadn't shared his inspiration, but it makes sense now. He's determined to hit every note and chord with perfection. Not for himself, and not to appease the kids that had bullied him. He's playing for his mother and Lan Zhan's heart swells at the thought.

Like A-Qing, he tells the story he wants to tell the way he wants to tell it. Beautiful, dainty and optimistic at first. Dipping into something deep, dark and sorrowful. Fading into something slow and longing. Then ending as it started, a little more upbeat. Hopeful.

They're both a mess by the time he's done and bowing to the standing crowd. He'd proven himself, but as he directs his eyes upward, he know he's achieved a different goal for himself.

It's A-Yuan's turn to take the stage. He's not as fired up as Jin Ling, but he brings the quiet confidence Lan Zhan has learned to expect from him.

"Mr. Lan, this isn't the song I practiced with you, but I hope I do it justice."

He knows the song at the first press of a key. It's the one he'd written for Wei Ying all those years ago. The one that had gone unfinished. A sweater he thought had gone unraveled with time. Here it was now, flowing out of A-Yuan effortlessly. It's almost a perfect rendition, no doubt due to Wei Ying's impeccable memory. A few transitions are not quite what he remembered, but it's because A-Yuan has improved them.

When he reaches the part where Lan Zhan stopped, A-Yuan stops as well. He lets the silence hang over the crowd for one, two, three beats. Then he makes eye contact with Lan Zhan, smiles a brilliant smile, and finishes the song with his own composition. It's a flawless blend of past and future, the best of what they were and the promise of a future.

"You remembered."

Wei Ying nuzzles against him. "How could I forget? Is it okay?"

He can't say yes, he can't say anything. He just nods his head and blinks back the emotions. He's overwhelmed, filled with love and pride.

"It's perfect."

—

Six Months Later

Three knocks on the door. Xichen sticks his head in, just as Lan Zhan is packing the last of his bags.

"You have far more possessions than when you came here, didi. Is Wei Ying going to have room for all that?"

His brother is teasing him. Everything he's purchased still fits into the same suitcase. He rolls his eyes, but he can't find himself to be annoyed. He'll miss those three knocks.

"Are you sure you don't want us to drive you to the airport?"

"It's just before New Years, Wangji. You hate crowds. Uncle hired a driver, so there's no need to come."

"Mmh." He sets the suitcase onto the floor and takes a seat at the edge of his bed. He's had months to prepare for this, but it still feels too soon. He knows the minute Xichen steps onto the plane he'll need him again, and this time he won't be down the hall. He might not even be a phone call away due to the time difference.

"Hey, no tears." Xichen sits beside him and wraps an arm around him. "It's not forever forever. Just a little forever. Five years, Mingue thinks. We've done worse."

"It's different now. Before, I knew where I could find you."

"You still do. If anything goes horribly wrong, I'm a redeye flight away. And your 7 pm is my 7 a.m. There are still windows we can see each other." Xichen squeezes his shoulders tight, and Lan Zhan leans his head until it rests on his. "And you've got your own family now. Moving in together, Wangji. That's a big step."

"I know. I'm happy. Happier than I have ever been, but I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too. Should I get my own YouTube channel? You can give me a few million of your followers, right?"

"That's not how it works, Ge." He smiles anyway, the thought of his brother trying to figure out the intricacies of social media too amusing of a thought.

"Well, you'll just have to give me a reason to come back. Maybe as, I don't know, a best man or something?"

"Ge! Don't jinx anything."

Xichen only laughs, knowing full well his little brother's intentions. "No jinxing. But I will be waiting for that phone call, didi."

"I won't make you wait too long."

They sit in silence a moment, submerged in the bittersweet moment.

"Wangji, I've said it before but I want to say it again. I am so proud of the person you are. I couldn't pick a better man for Wei Ying, nor could I ever imagine someone being better for you than him."

"Thank you, ge. The same goes for Mingue."

Xichen nods and starts to get up, but Lan Zhan holds him there a little longer. "And thank you for lying about the piano teacher."

"Who told you?"

"Wei Ying found the list of resumes in your office. I was far from the most qualified for the position."

"I don't think so." Xichen gives him a kiss on the crown of his head, followed by a pat. "Take care of yourself, didi. I'll be watching."

"Mmh."

Xichen leaves as quietly as he entered, shutting the door gently. It's only then he cries, but it's not for long. He takes one last look around his room to ensure it's ready for Wen Qing to take over, and says a quiet goodbye to his childhood room.

Wei Ying waits for him at the foot of the stairs alone, his uncle feeling no need to stay up to see him off as he's not even moving a zip code away. He extends his hand, and Lan Zhan wraps his own around it.

"Ready, baobao."

"Mmh. Let's go home."

Chapter Text

On an ordinary day, at an ordinary hour, in an ordinary room of their house, Lan Zhan proposed. He had a plan. He sanded down their old best friends forever declaration in the piano room and replaced it with a new one. "LZ+WY=BHF". He'd planned to play him their finished song, and give him the speech he'd been writing in his head since he'd fallen in love with him, and ask him to be his husband.   

But Wei Ying was Wei Ying. He was making blueberry muffins in their kitchen, covered in flower and bits of egg. Stained with blue in places blueberries never should have been able to touch. He laughed his crinkle eyed laugh while he stirred, teasing Lan Zhan about something he can't remember.

"Marry me."

It just came out. Wei Ying dropped the mixing spoon and bumped into the counter on his way to climb Lan Zhan, a bruise that lasted a week and he kissed every night before bed.

"Lan Zhan!" he had whined, though he waited until after the ring was on his finger. "You can't ask me like this! I'm disgusting! I'm going to be covered in flour when we tell everyone!"

"Wei Ying can shower first, and then we can make the calls."

"Absolutely not! Facetime your brother, I don't care what time it is there!"

It was 3 am and took four attempts to get him up. Mingue slept through the entire affair but once Xichen knew there wasn't an actual emergency his smile filled up the room and congratulated them both before hanging up.

Huaisang had tried to convince them to have the wedding sponsored. They could walk away without spending a dime, but Lan Zhan had vehemently refused. He'd already known where he wanted to promise his future to Wei Ying. In the front of the gentian garden Wei Ying had grown and loved. Just as beautiful as the day he'd first seen it, because Wei Ying had never stopped tending to it. Not when work became busy and not when he'd had to let Wen Ning take over most of the landscaping so he'd have more time to spend with his boys.

Every Saturday morning, they'd come over and either admire the garden or work in it. Wei Ying refused to allow anyone else to touch it.

The guest list was small. Uncle, Xichen and Mingue (who took a two week vacation to enjoy the festivities), Mianmian and Wen Qing (who'd beat them to the altar, naturally), Jin Ling, A-Yuan, Wen Ning, and Huaisang.

There were few dry eyes in the house when Qiren gave his speech.

"I was never lucky to find a life partner, and had resigned to living my life without children of my own. Yet, somehow, I ended up with five sons and two daughters, and a grandson. Wei Ying, you've made this old man richer than he ever thought possible."

Even Wen Qing broke down at that, Mianmian holding her hand as she trembled with tears of happiness.

"And I would not be opposed to more," he winked at the couples.

—

His wish would come true.

Mianmian brought it up, Wen Qing at her side nervously. They'd been considering all the options, but they kept coming back to one.

"We don't want you to feel any pressure, and if it's something you don't want to do it won't hurt our relationship at all," Mianmian had said, and he felt it odd that she kept looking at him versus Wei Ying, as if Wei Ying's bodily autonomy was somehow his to gatekeep.

"We'd prefer the donor to be someone we know and love. And we'd want you to be a part of the baby's life." The two women were nervous, holding their hands tightly with their bodies tilted towards each other for comfort.

He looked toward Wei Ying, and saw the answer in his eyes.

"It's Wei Ying's decision to make, but I am supportive in whatever he decides." Everyone looks at him with confusion until Wei Ying explains.

"Zhan-ge, they're asking you."

His face must have paled. Wei Ying scrambled to get him a glass of water and suddenly he had both woman at his side.

"I'm okay," he tries, but admittedly his voice comes out too high of a pitch. He takes a few deep breaths. "You want me instead of Wei Ying?"

Wen Qing nods. "Mianmian is already the Wei Ying in this relationship, and she'll be carrying. It makes sense, don't read too much into it." She tries to sound non chalant, but he can tell she's hopeful. So hopeful she's picking at her nails and bouncing her leg.

A year after that, Mianmian welcomes a beautiful baby boy— Hanjun.

Wei Ying falls apart the first time he meets him. "He's got golden eyes, Lan Zhan. Just like you." He watches Wei Ying holding the child, and he just knows. Wei Ying looks down at the little bundle with so much awe and affection, and when he looks back at Lan Zhan, there's a little bit of longing there too.

Wen Qing carries for them. They don't even ask her, she sees the look in his eyes when he holds their son and it just spills out of her mouth.

"I'll do it when Mianmian's ready," she says to both of them. "But you're going to spoil the fuck out of me and my wife the entire pregnancy."

Two years later, they welcome their own child. A girl with a surprising amount of hair and wildness to her eyes. Lan Zhan, who once thought he'd never love anyone as much as he loves Wei Ying, adds a new name to that list— Liyan.

—

One day, when he's not expecting it, Wei Ying begins to tell him about the years they were apart. It's not an easy thing for him to do, and it's not in one sitting. It takes time for the story to unfold, sometimes because it hurts Wei Ying to tell it, and others because it hurts Lan Zhan to hear it.

Everytime, he comforts him. Holds him tight. Thanks him for opening up and lets him know that he loves him more than the day before. Once the story's over, they don't mention it again. Wei Ying is safe now, and the monsters from his past put to rest.

--

The channel continued to grow under Huaisang's care. His three million subscribers doubled within a year of him making steady content. When Wei Ying became involved by sharing his gardening and landscaping advice, they added another 3 million more.

Their brand deals were few and far between, much to Huaisang's frustration. Yet, the ones they chose were reliable partnerships that garnered their follower's trust. They accumulated a good nest egg, with Wei Ying declaring himself prophetic.

"See baobao? You are going to put A-Yuan through college!"

That wasn't the best benefit, however.

A year after he'd started sharing his content, Jin Ling had reached out to thank him. His uncle, Jiang Cheng, had started following the channel. He'd originally done it to see the bits of Wei Ying that would pop up time to time, but ended up learning quite about about teaching kids with neurodivergence.

He'd started using Lan Zhan's suggestions, and Jin Ling's home life improved greatly. And Jiang Cheng started making appearances here and there, reconnecting with his brother. It hadn't been easy; there was plenty to be resentful about regarding the Jiang's treatment of Wei Ying. But gradually, Jiang Cheng started staying when bringing Jin Ling up for visits, and Wei Ying always seemed to end up in the same room as him.

They bickered as much as they didn't, but Lan Zhan could see some of the deeper scars Wei Ying carried start to heal.

—

Seven years passed before Xichen returned. He couldn't handle seeing his niece and nephew growing up through a computer screen and finally dragged Mingue back. They were older, with more gray hair and fuller figures due to the overseas diet. Otherwise, they hadn't changed much. Xichen was still his brother, calm when he needed to be and meddlesome when Lan Zhan gave him reason.

Xichen was proud to see what Wei Ying had done with the academy. Enrollment had soared during his tenure. He'd added classes that attracted a much diverse student and faculty base. Cloud Recesses became the premiere school for the arts, it's reach extending internationally.

Wei Ying tried to hand the keys back over upon his return, but Xichen wasn't interested in returning to action, especially after 7 years away. So Wen Qing took the reigns, naturally. She'd been a key advisor to Wei Ying during the school's transformation, and her ideas had been largely responsible for the student growth. She was just as nervous as her first meeting with Xichen, but Wei Ying assured her he'd assist her just as she'd assisted him.

So they retired early, using the proceeds from the channel to live modestly in Wei Ying's old farmhouse. In between filming and editing videos, they'd sit on the porch to watch the sun rise or set. They watched their daughter grow from a baby into a toddler, and then into a rather assertive young woman. Occasionally he would see a flash of Wen Qing in her and smile.

The two families were so blended it was hard to tell them apart at times. Hanjun and Liyan were either best friends or worst enemies, depending on their moods. But they always seemed to be together.

Both he and Wei Ying treated Hanjun as their son, and the same went for Mianmian and Wen Qing with Liyan. The two were spoiled with as much affection as those with double the parents would be.

—

When A-Yuan left for college, Wei Ying spent a week in bed hiding from the world. He blamed Lan Zhan for making their son so talented. Otherwise, no college would have accepted him and he'd live with them forever. Instead, he'd gotten a scholarship to Juilliard and they were never going to see him again.

Lan Zhan apologized profusely to him, and swore he wouldn't repeat the same mistake with Yilan. They'd withdraw her from school and forbid her from reading. Wei Ying eventually conceded he might be overreacting and allowed Lan Zhan to keep her in school.

When A-Yuan returned, it was for good. He'd brought a girl along with him. She was loud, brash, and highly opinionated. Wei Ying fell in love with her instantly. He taught her gardening and cooking. Eventually, he brought her to the gentian garden and showed her how to maintain it. It had been the first person he'd ever given instructions to.

"We're not going to be around forever, Lan Zhan. Eventually we'll want to go on cruises and take long vacations. It'll be nice to have the help."

"Mmh," Lan Zhan agreed.

Wei Ying was more of a mess on A-Yuan's wedding day than he was his own. He wouldn't allow a small affair, either. The wedding was as loud as their new daughter in law's personality and lasted through the wee hours of the morn.

—

Wei Ying has his own traces of gray now. He's sitting with his grandson on his lap, and despite the fine lines as he grins, Lan Zhan still sees him as that boy who'd held his hand out, asking him to sneak out of his uncle's house at 2 a.m.

Qiren has good days and bad. Today's a good one. He's on the patio with him, a quilt Mianmian had made covering his legs. He sips his tea while they talk, perfectly content to listen.

Lan Zhan knows these are the twilight years of his uncle's life, so he spends as many moments as he can with him. He's learned about his youth, about his trials in life, and about the dreams he's always carried with him. He finds he's more similar to the man than he'd ever thought possible as a teenager. They both value family above all else.

Now, he places his hand over Qiren's, and watching Wei Ying bouncing the bright eyed baby boy.

He thinks it still, during times like these. When he's surrounded by family and their laughter. When he's looking at his husband, their children, and their children's children. When he's reminded of everything he has. Love, security, and happiness.

It's good to be home.

Chapter Text

"I'm pregnant."

Wei Ying stared at the girl in disbelief, trying desperately to place her. Was she Huaisang's friend? Yes. He'd definitely seen her at some of his parties. Always with Wen Chao, always buzzing about him like a fruit fly. Well, almost always. Last time, she'd been alone.

Oh. Oh no.

The night came back to him in pieces. He'd been three sheets to the wind in a self destructive attempt at dealing with his feelings. Those kinds of feelings. The kind that ruined best friendships. The kind you keep to yourself and drink away because if he knew you had a dream about him, the sort that has you waking up cold and sticky with remorse, he might not want to be best friends with you anymore.

Especially when he's the captain of the football team. And in line to be Valedictorian. And from the most prestigious family in town.

"Wei Wuxian!"

Right. Pregnant. And oh fuck, this is still a problem because the kaleidoscope of memories is spinning again.

They'd made out, that much he remembers clearly because he'd been taken about at how… not great it had been. Wasn't kissing girls supposed to be the highlight of high school? Or just life in general? It was pretty much all the other boys spoke about. Well, except Lan Zhan. He talked about interesting things. Things Wei Ying could listen to all night. When he was chatty, to say. It wasn't often. Usually only happened when he snuck too much sugar. See, everyone thought it was Wei Ying with a sweet tooth, but really it was Lan Zhan. One could not leave that boy alone with a bag of donut holes.

"Please tell me you understand what I'm telling you." Wang Lingjiao was getting irritated. He needed to get it together and fast.

"You said you're pregnant."

Memories were flooding back, coming at him hot and loose now. They were making out and she'd smelled too sweet, like a scratch and sniff cherry sticker. She wanted to go upstairs because it was getting too hot and he'd pointed out that heat rises. She laughed at him, called him a virgin which was technically true but did she need to say it so loud?

Then she apologized. She was a virgin, too. Don't worry, I just want a quiet place to talk. Maybe they'd kiss a little more and would that be so bad? It's what's expected, so Wei Ying followed her.

He remembers her hands being all over him and how wrong they felt. Too weak, too small. Dainty, like he could break them if he pressed too hard. His thoughts kept slipping towards stronger ones, those of his dreams. He still remembered how they'd felt, even though they hadn't been real. The warmth of them cradling his ass, picking him up and spreading him open. The solid chest he leaned against, panting his name.

He closed his eyes and saw Lan Zhan. He opened them and saw her. It was a tide of longing and revulsion. He felt like a ship barely surviving a storm at open sea. Everything was wobbly, everything was wrong.

And then the memories themselves became choppy. Snapshots instead of fluid motion. Her dress hiking up over pale thighs. His hand on her breast. A moan in his ear. And then.

And then, nothing.

"We didn't use a condom." He can't remember. He's trying desperately to remember the motions because it would have been new to him. He'd never had occasion to slip one on. He imagines the foil wrapper in his hand, imagines tearing it open but it triggers nothing.

"Bingo."

They were sitting in a cafe near the high school. Kids he knew dotted the tables, oblivious to their conversation but only because they weren't trying to listen in. She could have told him anywhere, but she chose there.

His hands grew clammy. He'd just turned 18. He was supposed to go to college next year. It was a future he and Lan Zhan had schemed together— sharing an apartment that was equidistant from both colleges. Wei Ying couldn't afford anything more than a community college, but in two years he'd join Lan Zhan. They'd graduate together.

His body faded from the image and Lan Zhan stood there alone, collecting his diploma. Just two words. Two words were all it took to divert an entire river of time from its course.

"Okay," he said slowly. "You're pregnant. Now what?"

—

Madam Yu was incensed.    "You're not marrying her."

He'd seen her angry many times, but he'd never seen her like this. Veins throbbing, thin lips pursed tight, hands gripping the armrest so hard her hands trembled. She looked downright feral.

"Not without a paternity test, at least," she spat.

He tried to convince them, but even his sister refused to listen. "A-Xian," she'd pleaded with him. "You don't know her that well. How can you be so sure?"

"She showed me all the tests, jiejie. The timing lines up. It's mine."

But, in the end, no one listened to him. He wasn't even asking to marry her; he wanted support. Just someone to guide him, to tell him what to do to make this right. The only advice his family gave was to ask her to… no. He wouldn't even think it.

He called Lan Zhan. They hadn't talked in a while but he still picked up on the first right. He sounded elated to hear from Wei Ying. He said he missed him, and Wei Ying knew the feeling because he missed him back even more.

"Have dinner with me? There's something important we need to discuss." Lan Zhan sounded nervous, and Lan Zhan never sounded nervous.

Someone must have told him; what else could it be? He wracked his brain and came up blank. Wei Ying had waited too long, and now his best friend had found out the most important thing that had ever happened to him through the grapevine.

So he brought her to dinner. Might as well rip the band-aid off. Get it all out in the open and maybe Lan Zhan would be willing to help him the way no one else had. Only, Lan Zhan had looked shocked to see her. Shocked and… hurt? He made an excuse, taking whatever he'd meant to say to Wei Ying with him.

—

Things changed after that night. He hardly saw Lan Zhan. They still talked between classes, but it wasn't the same. He could get a response if he texted, but the reply would be short. Lan Zhan would pick up the phone if he called, but they wouldn't talk long.

He didn't even say goodbye when he left. One day, Wei Ying just looked at the date and realized Lan Zhan would already have gone to college.

It hurt. It hurt like your breath being stolen straight from your lungs without an exhale. Like death squeezing your heart. It hurt like the screen going black after the best movie you'd ever seen, only to realize you could never again watch it for the first time.

It hurt like saying goodbye to your best friend, but never hearing them say it back.

—

When Lingjiao realized Wei Ying's family wouldn't support them, she grew frustrated and irrational. She wanted to be near her own family when the baby came. She couldn't depend on just Wei Ying. So he followed her because he didn't know what else to do.

No one tried that hard to stop him.

—

"Pay is 20 an hour, overtime twice a month first come first serve. Five sick days a year, use it or lose it." His new supervisor was barely older than him. He kind of looked like Lan Zhan from certain angles. Sometimes it made him happy, other times it reopened the wound that never fully closed.

A couple of years had passed since he'd last seen his best friend, and he only thought of him in spurts. There were long periods where he was just focused on surviving and keeping his family alive. Then something would remind him and he'd get stuck on the what if. Lingjiao always knew when he was caught on the what if.

She'd started drinking the day after A-Yuan stopped breastfeeding. It began with a celebratory glass of wine, and then it became a box. At two glasses, she'd get weepy and mourn the life that Wei Ying had cost her. She had accepted early on she wasn't cut out for motherhood, and somehow that became Wei Ying's fault as well.

After three glasses, she'd throw things. He started calling the neighbor on the second glass. Wen Qing never complained or asked questions. She took his son every time and would patch Wei Ying up the next morning.

She waited until things were stable to talk to him. You have to get out, Wei Ying. She's going to kill you one day, Wei Ying.

But Wen Qing knew nothing of his responsibility. He hadn't worn the condom that night, and Lingjiao always reminded him of that. Or that, if she knew things would turn out this way, she would have…

It was best not to make her angry. When she wanted sex, he gave her sex. If she wanted things they couldn't afford, he'd beg borrow and steal for overtime. As long as he found the right way to appease her things would be okay. They wouldn't be good. He wouldn't be happy, but they wouldn't fight and his son could be.

If he ever messed up, she'd find a way to hurt him. Sometimes with her fists, which he actually preferred. She didn't have the strength to seriously hurt him that way. It was the sleep deprivation he feared the most. She'd sit on the edge of the bed and make demands of him. They weren't ones he could satisfy. At that point, she was past appeasing. So once he'd begged and pleaded, she'd let him drift away. Then she'd shake him awake and start the fight all over again because if I can't sleep, why should you?

—

A long time goes by where he keeps Lan Zhan stored in a box he doesn't open. He didn't want his life to tarnish the memory. He lived shamefully, and the thought of what Lan Zhan would say if he knew… Or what he hoped he'd still say. Maybe so much time had gone by, Lan Zhan truly didn't care about him anymore.

But A-Yuan got sick and he had to open the box. He had to, because the one person he loved most in the world might be taken from him. Lan Zhan would know what to do. He'd be calm and collected. He'd tell him step by step how to handle the situation, but first he'd tell him to breathe. Everything would be okay. He even heard it in his voice. He pretended he was beside him, guiding him along a path he wasn't sure he had the strength to navigate. Carrying him on his back, the way he did when Wei Ying sprained his leg junior year, all the way to the nurse's station not caring who saw them pass. He wouldn't care what mess Wei Ying had caused this time, he would just help. Calm and collected.

Lingjiao wasn't calm or collected. She wasn't even there. She was hardly at home and Wen Qing watched A-Yuan more and more. The boy had even called her mama, but they kept it a secret.

It happened when Wen Qing was watching him. A-Yuan seized, his little body thrashing so hard. She'd rushed him to the ER where Wei YIng met her. It had come out of the blue, and the doctor's started asking about about family history. Wei Ying was adopted. He'd never learned about any genetic conditions and he'd panicked. Then they wanted blood tests and medical records and it all just became so overwhelming.

That's when Lingjiao showed up, and also when he found out that A-Yuan wasn't his. Not in the genetic sense. She provided Wen Chao's name to the doctors, and Wei Ying's world imploded. Things happened around him, but he held his son so tight to his chest he might have bruised him. He held him while Wen Qing grabbed A-Yuan's mother and led her out of the hospital. He held his hand while he stayed in the bed, and rested his head beside him while he slept. He was terrified of losing him, either through death or by the courts. He would give up anything, but he couldn't give up his son.

A few days later, they'd run every test known to man and couldn't find a root cause. He didn't have another seizure, so the doctors let them go home with a long list of precautionary measures Wei Ying would follow to a T.

When they got back to the small apartment, Lingjiao was already drunk and livid. He barely got A-Yuan next door before she set in. He didn't even try to stop her. He took every single blow she gave without dodging. It hurt. Her nails hurt, the empty liquor bottles hurt more. She kicked and screamed and raved and then she collapsed.

"That bitch made me sign my rights away," she said after she'd come down from her mania. There was no emotion left in her voice. "Don't try to come looking for me." Then she stumbled out of the apartment with a couple of bags and into a car that had been waiting for her.

It was the easiest promise he ever made.

It was the right thing. She hadn't hurt A-Yuan, but she would. There were only so many times Wei Ying could intercept the blow before it landed on his son. Truthfully, he should have done something sooner. He just thought that things would get better. If he worked harder, if he made her happier, if he earned more money, she wouldn't be as upset.

It was never going to get any better, and Wen Qing knew it too. They never discussed what how she got her to sign the papers, or the bruises that hadn't yet faded from her face. He got on his knees that night and thanked her, and she got down on hers and made him promise never to do that again. He was free now, and so was A-Yuan.

He looked around the small, cramped apartment. He saw A-Yuan's future flash before him and it was sad and it was bleak. He wanted more for his son. He needed more for his son. Whatever happened to him could happen, but A-Yuan deserved the best.

So he took what was left of his savings post hospital stay and went home, promising Wen Qing he'd call for her and her brother soon after.

Yanli had married and left by that point, and Jiang Cheng had moved out shortly after. Only his Aunt and Uncle remained. Madam Yu took one look at A-Yuan and his stomach sank. He thought when they saw him, they'd fall in love with him, too. His life hadn't been easy with them, but he'd been well provided for. He never went hungry. He thought it could even be easier for A-Yuan, who won everyone's hearts so easily. It was quickly evident that wouldn't be the case. He knew what she was about to say before she said it.

He didn't even walk in their door. He took his son and left out the iron gates.

He hadn't thought past going home and had nowhere else to turn. But when A-Yuan looked up at him, with all the trust in the world in his eyes and asked, "Where now, baba?" only one answer came to mind.

Lan Zhan would know what to do. Even if they'd fallen out, and even if they weren't best friends any longer, Lan Zhan would still help him. He knew the path to his house by heart, he'd ridden there every day as a kid. It was still engraved in his heart, every turn and stop.

So he swallowed whatever remaining pride he had and made the choice he had to for his son's well being. The walk up the drive knotted his stomach. He knew, he knew, Lan Zhan would never turn him away. But he also knew the weight of what he was about to ask him. A place to stay. Just a week or two to figure things out. If he was bold enough, he'd ask for a small loan as well. If A-Yuan relapsed, he would need enough to get him care.

He stood on the doorstep, underneath the pale yellow light. His son was strapped to his back, breathing puffs of air against his neck as he slept. He could do this.

He raised his hand and knocked. He listened to the shuffling of feet approaching the door, anticipation building in his stomach. Lan Zhan might be on the other side. Any second the door would open and he'd see him again.

It wasn't Lan Zhan, but his older brother that stood on the other side of the doorway. His expression was one of barely contained shock. Wei Ying realized too late what he must look like, bandages that weren't nearly sufficient for his wounds and a sleeping child they never knew existed. He took a deep breath and tried to sound like his world wasn't falling apart around him.

"Is Lan Zhan home?" His voice came out shaky anyway.

Xichen invited him in, fixing his face as polite and friendly as he could make it. He didn't answer the question though, and Wei Ying knew why. He felt it in the air, and saw clearly in the discomfort on Xichen's face when Wei Ying had mentioned his brother's name.

He gave them a meal, hot and filling. The first one he'd hadn't sacrificed to his son in days. He gave them a room, Lan Zhan's old one. The bed was small but warm, and they slept soundly inside it. He knew, ever since stepping foot in the house, this was just a temporary reprieve. Don't get too comfortable, and don't take the night for granted. It would all end the next morning. 

Because, even though Xichen dodged the question at every turn, he knew. Lan Zhan wasn't here, and he wouldn't be any time soon.

Chapter Text

A-Yuan fell back asleep the second Wei Ying laid him down in Lan Zhan's bed. Wei Ying stood over him and watched the soft rise and fall of his chest for a while, listened to the soft puffs of air and felt grateful that for at least one night, his son was in a safe place.

There was still the question of tomorrow and next week and next month, unanswered and knocking at his door. He tried to quiet them. Just one night where he could breathe; it's all he needed. The rest he would figure out in the morning.

A-Yuan hated sleeping in the dark, so he'd turned the closet light on. It was dim enough to comfortably sleep, but bright enough for Wei Ying to examine the left behinds of his best friend's bedroom. Ex-best friend. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Lan Zhan stopped being his, regardless of how hospitable his family might have been.

There were missing pictures on the wall. The spaces were obvious because not everything had been removed. Just 4x6 slots here and there. A string of paper clips that held nothing. Frames that showed the cardboard backing because they hadn't been refilled. Wei Ying wandered over to the desk and looked over it.

It was fairly clean for it's lack of use. There were some trophies that have gathered a bit of dust in the crevices and an old yearbook he didn't dare open. He pulled the desk drawer out, slowly so that it didn't make a sound. Pens and pencils. A few erasers. Some paperclips. And a stack of pictures wrapped neatly with a red ribbon, similar to the one he used to wear.

His grabbed the stack and unwound the ribbon; they were all of him. Some just him, and others of the two together. He flipped through one by one, wondering how he'd never seen this story. Perhaps he'd been too close to it, but with years and miles between them the love in Lan Zhan's couldn't be overlooked or explained away.

He flipped faster, trying to find a clue or an explanation. Had he always looked at him like that? And every single picture of the two answered the question. Yes, and without fail.

Surely Lan Zhan wasn't.. No. He was the most popular boy in school and Wei Ying just bugged him enough until they became best friends. He didn't even give Lan Zhan a choice in the matter. He'd just chosen him and wore him down until eventually Lan Zhan accepted they'd spend all their time together.

That's how he'd remembered it at least.

He wraps the photographs back, loosely in the order they'd been in and places them back in the drawer. Lan Zhan had painstakingly taken every photo down, but hadn't been willing to throw them away, and Wei Ying spent way too many hours that night wondering what it could possibly mean.

—

Wei Ying knew absolutely nothing about landscaping when he accepted Xichen's offer, other than the job came with room and board and tuition reimbursement for A-Yuan to attend one of the most prestigious schools in the country. He'd said yes while Xichen was still explaining the perks, and it might have come off a little desperate and it might not have been charity he would have normally accepted, but he had a son to consider.

If landscaping could afford A-Yuan a stable future, he'd be the best damned landscaper possible. Which is why he needed to know exactly what it entailed.

Xichen was kind enough to loan him his home computer to watch YouTube videos. He was amazed at just how much information was out there. Some of the intros were obnoxious, and the channel hosts said 25 words when three would suffice, but he was able to piece together everything he needed rather quickly.

He's not sure how it happened. He'd been watching back to back gardening videos, learning methods of trimming hedges into pleasing shapes, when a non related video started playing. ADAM & WANGJI scrolled across the screen in stylized text, featuring still shots of Lan Zhan and a man he'd never met. Lan Zhan was looking at him, and he'd seen that look before. It was upstairs in his desk drawer, still staring at a 15 year old Wei Ying.

He felt the breath being punched from him.

Lan Zhan was gay, and had never bothered to tell him. And apparently, judging by the way he looked at Adam, his feelings for Wei Ying might have been more than friendship. It had been gnawing at his mind since the night he flipped through the photos, but this is proof. At one point, Lan Zhan had been in love with him.

He watched the video despite the feeling of his stomach twisted in knots. Fuck, it hurt. It hurt bad, seeing him in motion. Seeing his arms wrapping around Adam's waist, giving him that smile that Wei Ying used to have to work so hard for. Now he gives it freely and the world gets to witness it.

They're cooking together. Adam's making a steak while Lan Zhan cooks the vegetables, and something about it rubs Wei Ying the wrong way. Lan Zhan doesn't eat meat, and sure enough later in the video he eats around it. Bites disappear from his plate throughout, but nothing ever goes into his mouth. Why is he pretending?

Wei Ying slammed the laptop lid down a little too forcefully, then smoothed his hand over it in apology. That was too much information, and way too fast. Perhaps he should be more careful when watching YouTube videos.

—

It only took him a week to catch up on everything they've posted. Adam seemed to have quite a few videos prior to meeting Lan Zhan, but the view counts on the subsequent videos were much, much higher. It wasn’t hard to see why when he read the comments, because they were all about Lan Zhan.

Xichen told him they'd been dating for a year.

"I don't like him. There's something smarmy about him." It wasn't any one thing Wei Ying could point out, and yeah, okay, it could be jealousy. Adam didn't look at Lan Zhan the same way and never catered to him.    Wei Ying knew from experience, Lan Zhan would sacrifice his own desires first. It was probably why their stream seemed so surreal. He didn't see any evidence of the things Lan Zhan loved besides Adam.

Lan Qiren agreed with him. Sometimes they'd watch the channel together and bond over how annoying the guy could be. He never thought it possible to bond with Lan Zhan's uncle, yet a common enemy does wonders to strengthen a relationship.

Eventually, watching starts to hurt too much. He limits himself to once a week and skips through anything that features only Adam. And if he watches Lan Zhan's parts once, twice, three times more, it's not like anyone will know.

—

Lan Zhan was supposed to visit a month or two after Wei Ying moved into the groundskeeper's cottage. Xichen had mentioned it in passing over dinner. Lan Qiren stiffened up and asked if he was coming alone. Wei Ying's heart pounded, waiting for the answer. He'd be excited to see Lan Zhan either way, but pretending to get along with Adam would be hard. He'd do it though.

Xichen assured them both it would just be Wangji, and the weight on his shoulders lifted.

"Don't tell him I'm here. I want to surprise him. Can you imagine his face?" Wei Ying grinned broadly, then second guessed himself. Maybe Lan Zhan wouldn't be excited to see him. Wei Ying had been the one to finally stop communicating, but Lan Zhan's heart had lost interest long before.

It wouldn't matter. Something had come up, Xichen explained. He didn't say what, nor did he need to. They all saw the videos posted the next week. Lan Zhan was happy at home with Adam. He just hadn't wanted to come.

—

Lan Qiren allows him to bring the Wens. He'd been nervous, almost as nervous as the day he'd knocked on their door with A-Yuan strapped to his back. He brought the salient points with him, namely that landscaping this much ground was intensive for one person and he needed an assistant. Wen Ning knew nothing about landscaping, but neither did he. The boy was a smart learner and he could catch him up with no one being the wiser.

Wen Qing, for her part, was a registered nurse and had experience as a dietitian. The registered nurse part was true, at least. But she'd made all of A-Yuan's meals for a while and they looked pretty healthy.

It was cramped in the groundskeeper's cottage, but about ten miles down the road they had a property that had just become available. Xichen had explained he was stressed about finding a tenant and if Wei Ying and A-Yuan moved in, he'd at least know the house was cared for.

"Just become available" was a euphemism for "hasn't been occupied in years", and Wei Ying told him as much after doing a walkthrough. Xichen just gave a sheepish smile and asked if Wei Ying was interested in renovating it for a discounted rent. The rent was already suspiciously low and with a discount it was practically a steal.

It took about 6 months to make it move-in ready, but it was rewarding work. It actually looked like a home after. It wasn't anywhere near completion, but he was able to get a functioning garden set up, a nice kitchen and two bedrooms that were clean and freshly painted.

It was worth it to see the smile on A-Yuan's face.

—

One Saturday morning after he'd finished with his tasks, Xichen caught him dancing in the garage. He'd moved the cars out to give himself some space, wondering if his body could still move in the same way. He was rusty. He'd need to stretch daily and start working out again. His balance needed quite a bit of work, but it felt good to move his body again.

Xichen had been amazed. Even out of practice, he could see Wei Ying's talents. They were thinking about adding a dance class to their fine arts curriculum. It would be perfect for Wei Ying. He could work at the same school A-Yuan attended during the week, and if he wanted he could keep the landscaping gig for extra side money.

He'd just need to enroll in some classes and get a teaching certificate, but Xichen somehow had the information ready for him to review. There were some online colleges and Wei Ying might even qualify for some scholarships.

He'd never considered teaching. It was a snooty profession for individuals that liked to lord power over impressionable youths. Xichen had winced at the description, but convinced him to think it over. Maybe he could bring a fresh perspective. All Xichen wanted was for him to consider it.

—

Uncle Q threw him an actual graduation party. He tried to refuse, saying the idea was over the top and unnecessary, but they it was a family tradition to celebrate such accomplishments. He couldn't exactly say no after that. They considered him family, and he'd broke down bawling on the spot. Qiren looked baffled and had no idea what to do. Xichen just held him and patted his back until he calmed down, blowing his nose loudly on a napkin and admitting yes, it might be a nice thing to celebrate.

He thought about inviting Lan Zhan. He almost talked to Xichen about it, but by then the channel had exploded. There were more videos, live streams, and even media appearances. Lan Zhan— er, Wangji— was becoming a household name.

Xichen suggested just telling him, but Wei Ying refused. He didn't want to be an obligation, but more importantly, it was easier to handle the cancellations when they weren't personal. If Lan Zhan knew he was here and still found an excuse not to come, Wei Ying's heart might break entirely.

In the end, Xichen told Wangji they were having a family gathering and would love him to attend, and he expressed his remorse that he couldn't make it. No one was surprised. The party was lovely and Wei Ying felt loved. He had his son, his best friends, and a new brother and uncle. It would have been selfish to want for more.

—

The pots were a mistake. A big fat "you should have known better, Wei Ying" mistake. He doesn't even know why he bought them. Okay, he does know. All of the most recent videos were of Adam cooking for Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan taking adorable little bites and smiling so sweetly at him. Trying to be encouraging.

It reminded him of back then. Wei Ying had so many hobbies, and every time he learned something new Lan Zhan was there to encourage him. Painting, skateboarding, knitting, archery. Whatever his passion of the week was, Lan Zhan would praise him on how well he'd picked it up.

He bought the pots because he missed him. That's why. He'd even saved up, a little from each paycheck for about 8 weeks. It wouldn't hurt A-Yuan. It would be his little thing. The first real thing he'd bought for himself since they'd moved in.

The coating started to flake within a week, and the thought of his son ingesting it made him livid. And Adam was serving Lan Zhan food made from them? How cruel and callous could he be? He couldn't even get a refund. They offered a replacement set but by then he was over it. It was a 200 dollar reminder that they lived in different worlds now, and Wei Ying should stop trying to pretend anything different.

—

He tries dating. It's not easy with a young child, but he has ample babysitters begging him to put himself back out there so he makes a solid effort.

His first attempt is with one of the fellow teachers. She's a sweet girl, but there's not much chemistry. They quickly learn they make better friends than anything else.

His second is with the dance instructor he'd hired to help him find his form again. Dance turned out to be the only thing they had in common, but their chemistry was undeniable. He learned a lot about himself the summer they spent together. It eventually fizzled out, but Wei Ying would never forget how his body responded to a man's touch.

—

A-Yuan turned out to be a natural on the piano. Lan Qiren had begun teaching him on the Saturdays that Wei Ying worked in the yard, and their sessions increased in frequency after the first few weeks. Perhaps it was Lan Qiren's influence, but before long A-Yuan reminded him of Lan Zhan at the keys. Focused and self-assured, interpreting the sheet music in ways Wei Ying never imagined it could sound.

Maybe it's the newfound interest that jogs his memory, or maybe he'd been keeping it on the edge of his mind, but he stops by the piano room one day after classes are done and most everyone has left the building. He's avoided it all this time, not wanting to remember what was better left to time.

It pulls him anyway, and he finds his hands shaking as he lifts the heavy lid that covers the keys.

He'd brought Lan Zhan here one summer night when they were young. He'd been lying in bed and his thoughts had turned to his friend. He always seemed to miss him when he wasn't around. He'd just got his driver's license the week before, and an idea popped into his mind. It was probably horrible and would get them both expelled, but the thought of Lan Zhan playing just for him was too enticing. He had to try.

He snuck out and drove over to his friend's house, parking just far enough away not to arouse suspicion with the sounds of an engine turning over. He stood beneath Lan Zhan's window and threw pebbles, just like he saw in the cheesy teen romance movies. He thought it would be funny, but Lan Zhan looked genuinely embarrassed when he pulled the curtains apart and looked down.

He'd been shocked when his friend agreed to come with him and followed him to the car without a fuss. Lan Zhan was a rule follower and a teacher's pet. He'd half expected to be talked out of this insane idea, but Lan Zhan must have been in a rebellious mood that night.

They didn't have a key, but there was a window open on the bottom floor that Wei Ying wiggled through. He planned to unlock the front door for Lan Zhan, but his friend followed right behind him. He still remembers how he'd hoisted himself up by his forearms, how his muscles had tensed as he swung his legs inside in a single fluid motion. Wei Ying, in contrast, had scrambled and inched his way in, falling more than climbing once he was halfway, like a freshly birthed baby giraffe.

He led him to the piano room and Lan Zhan obliged him by playing the most beautiful song he'd ever heard. It was the first time he'd ever thought about pressing their lips together. The thought scared him silent, as if Lan Zhan could actually read his mind. He tried to think of other things, but they were sitting so close on the piano bench. Their thighs were touching and if Wei Ying turned his head, it would be so easy.

He didn't understand those feelings back then. The thoughts would just pop in his head unbidden, and eventually manifesting as dreams. Maybe that's just what happened when you spent a lot of time with someone. Wires in your brain got crossed.

To distract himself, he pulled out his pocket knife and carved their initials into the underside of the wood. WY + LZ = BFF. It wasn't quite a heart, but it was a forever declaration.

Many years had passed since that night. The initials were still there and still true. Most of them. The last one hadn't quite panned out. Best friends, just not forever. He crossed it out. It felt like carving his own heart, but he needed to move on.

—

Five years had come and gone. A-Yuan doesn't even remember the trauma of his youth and Wei Ying talks his own away once a month with the Lan family therapist. We get a group discount, Lan Xichen had told him. We're an extremely profitable family.

He still watched Lan Zhan's videos from time to time but not religiously anymore. There were even quite a few he hadn't clicked on at all. They'd been sad to watch, lately. The light had faded from Lan Zhan's eyes. Whatever magic had existed during the start had begun to wane. The viewers hadn't noticed, and it made him irrationally angry. Was he the only one that could see the unhappiness welling behind Lan Zhan's eyes?

Xichen started to act weird. Cagey. He'd always been open and honest with Wei Ying about everything. The family, the school. No secrets between them, but all of a sudden he's tight lipped when it comes to the new piano teacher.

It stressed Wei Ying out, knowing that A-Yuan would be working with a new mentor. The last one had been great but extremely old. He'd hoped for someone that could better relate to youth and Xichen assured him Wei Ying would be happy. He wouldn't tell him why he'd be happy, or how he was so sure. Just that he'd be happy.

He'd find out for himself. He heard the sounds of his son talking, but the voice that answered him was too distinct. He'd know it anywhere. His heart started to pound, worried his ears were lying to him but he made it to the door and his eyes must be just as dishonest because there he stood. Lan Zhan's back.

He wanted time to freeze so he could just stare at him and slowly come to terms with seeing him again. Xichen could have warned him. Xichen should have warned him. Then again, he'd never exactly told him his true feelings for his younger brother. How could he have known what this would do to him?

Words go back and forth, and then A-Yuan looked at him and asked a question. He heard something about private lessons, and his heart began to pound at the same time it sank because he had to be careful with money. If something happened to A-Yuan again, he needed to know he could take care of him.

"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan said his name like hed seen a ghost, but Wei Ying wasn't the one that vanished. Wei Ying was the one that was supposed to be there. And then Lan Zhan took a step back. As if Wei Ying might bite him or something, and actually, maybe he should have, because now he had to tell his A-Yuan, "No."

"Your son is talented and I'd like to mentor him."

So many thoughts raced through his mind. Lan Zhan was there. Ten steps away. Taller than he'd been before. Bigger as well. Wei Ying had shot up in height but his friend still had a couple inches on him. He'd wanted so desperately to see him again for so many years. Had imagined this moment so many times.

But his son is stared up at him with hopeful eyes, and he had to let him down. "A-Yuan, I don't think we can swing private lessons right now. I'm sorry, radish."

A-Yuan wasn't dissuaded. Apparently Wei Ying had missed the part about the lessons being free. Something about it irked him. He knew what the other teachers charged for individual instruction. It was how he'd been able to afford A-Yuan's new shoes and summer wardrobe.

He wasn't stupid. He knew how much Xichen had given him over the years. He'd even accidentally discovered the purchase date on the farmhouse. He'd closed the weekend before showing it to Wei Ying. He was no stranger to charity; he'd accepted his fair share.

But this was Lan Zhan. He wasn't family anymore. He'd be here for the summer and disappear back into the city again. Wei Ying didn't want to be remembered that way, as the old friend he donated his time to. He didn't want his son being thought of that way either. Maybe it was selfish, but he was barely hanging on in this moment.

"We don't need charity." Okay, that might have come off a bit harsh. Lan Zhan recoiled, a flash of something painful in his eyes. Wei Ying had never spoken to him in that tone, not even during the few times they'd fought as kids. Fuck. "How much are you charging the others? I might be able to put enough together."

Wei Ying felt doubly guilty when Lan Zhan informed him that he wasn't charging any of the students, and figured he'd made enough of a spectacle of himself so far. He needed to get some air and regroup before he made things worse. He allowed A-Yuan to make the final decision and got tackled with a hug as a thank you.

"See you around, Lan Zhan." He didn't know if it was appropriate, but Lan Zhan had called him Wei Ying first. He tried to look casual as he left, like his life hadn't just completely imploded in the span of a few short minutes.

—

It turned out that Lan Zhan had been true to his word. Jin Ling had been chosen as a soloist as well, and Lan Zhan wasn't charging him. He's glad to know his ex-best friend still didn't make a habit of lying.

He brought both the boys to the welcome dinner, and was amused to see he'd chosen A-Qing to mentor as well. She was young and outspoken, likely to repeat anything she finds interesting. He hears plenty of her fathers' words come out of her mouth and it's enough to keep him entertained while they wait for Lan Zhan. Dinner. While they wait for dinner.

Lan Zhan does come downstairs though, in a light blue sweater that hugs his chest and loose fitting ivory pants. Wei Ying doesn't even feel himself biting his bottom lip, it just happens as he tries to repress the instinct to lick his lips.

Xichen had been sitting beside him on the chaise lounge, but jumped up when he heard Lan Zhan's door open. He gestured to the open spot and Lan Zhan sat beside him. There'd been enough room for him and Xichen, but Lan Zhan was slightly bigger and Wei Ying's body naturally gravitated to him anyway. He couldn't control it. It was physics.

Their thighs touched just like the day in the piano room and Wei Ying cleared his throat in hopes of dislodging that persistent memory. He had to find a way to act natural or everyone would know. Having a crush on your old best friend that's now in a very public and committed relationship wasn't    quite the reputation he wanted to be remembered for.

So he did the only thing that came natural. He flirted shamelessly, like it meant nothing. "Long time since we've hung out here, Lan Zhan."

The tension eased and his nephews ears perked up. "Were you and Teacher Lan friends?"

He gave an exaggerated nod and clapped his hands on Lan Zhan's back. It was a mistake, because he could feel the muscles tense underneath his touch.

"Lan Zhan was my bestest friend." It was a passive aggressive way to word it, and he doubted Lan Zhan missed the implication. He didn't correct him though, which Wei Ying tried not to think too hard about.

"Like me and A-Yuan?"

Oh no. Now that was a loaded question. He chose his words carefully, but the entire time half his brain was dedicated to feeling the heat of Lan Zhan's leg against him.

"Not quite. We um, weren't related."

"Technically we're not either," A-Yuan quite helpfully pointed out, and if Wei Ying didn't love his son so much he would want to cover his mouth with duct tape.

He met Lan Zhan's amused gaze, one eyebrow arched in a question. He had the beginnings of a smile and looked so beautiful that Wei Ying felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Feelings started to swirl again, the kind he wouldn't allow himself for the sake of self preservation. Abort. Abort everything and switch gears or run like hell.

He clungs to A-Qing and breathed a sigh of relief when she took center stage in the conversation. He'd successfully maneuvered the conversation to calmer waters and earned himself a pat on the back. He could make it through dinner.

But dinner wouldn't make it easy. Not long after they'd relocated to the dining room, the subject of Lan Zhan's partner came up. It was innocent. Xiao Xingchen had only positive intent but it turned the taste of his food to ash and he wanted to spit it out.

Lan Zhan was beside him. He'd loosened up. Things were starting to feel okay again. And now Wei Ying had to listen to talk of marriage and it made him ill. Xichen shot him a look of concern and changed the subject rather abruptly. And though it was a relief, it also bothered him because it was the first indication he'd ever given that he knew.

They'd never talked about it. Xichen had never asked. But that look told him everything he needed to know.

The conversation found its swing again, and he found his own. It was borderline exhausting, but during the moments Lan Zhan acted like his old self and not the persona he'd developed for the camera, it kind of felt worth it.

—

After dinner, Lan Zhan washed up alone in the kitchen. Wei Ying vacillated on going in, not knowing if he could trust his mouth not to get him in trouble.    Xichen encouraged him though, with a wink and a nod in his brother's direction.

He watched him for a moment before entering, admiring the way he moved. Smooth and fluid, like he should have been the dancer.

He approached him, hip bumping him out of the way so he could take over washing. He wanted to know. It was an ache in his heart that there was this whole life of Lan Zhan's he just didn't understand. So he asked.

"Are you happy, Lan Zhan? Like, in general?" He didn't know what he expected him to say. They weren't close anymore, and that wasn't a question you asked someone you weren't close to. Blame him for having the tendency to stomp all over boundaries, he supposed.

He didn't expect he'd actually confirm it, leaving Wei Ying to hold the weight of it in his hands. It wasn't fair in the least. He'd been crushed to see him living so happily with someone else, a life Wei Ying didn't even known he'd wanted until it was too late to have it. But this, seeing Lan Zhan miserable, that was even worse.

—

He kept finding himself standing outside of Lan Zhan's classroom. Sometimes he'd poke his head in, sometimes he'd just listen to his lessons. Xichen caught him a couple times but never  said anything. He just gave that older brother look and kept walking.

He was surprised when Lan Zhan shows up at his own classroom.

He'd been practicing an old routine. The moves were a little dated but he loved the way they made him feel. Confident and in control of his body. He rarely got to dance like this with the kids. It was a bit too advanced. He saved these moments for after work, where he could be alone with his mind and body.

Then he saw Lan Zhan watching him in the mirrored wall. He was almost stunned into stopping, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He put his all into the routine, enjoying the way Lan Zhan's eyes followed his hips. The way his jaw clenched with a body roll. He still had an effect on him, and even though he shouldn't have relished in it, even though he knew better, he just wanted this moment of triumph. When the music stopped he collapsed on the mat, smiling as he heard the door open behind him.

—

Xichen wasn't subtle when he suggested Wei Ying show Lan Zhan around the gardens. His brother might not have seen the wink, but everyone else did and Wei Ying's sure his face turned twelve shades of red. Fortunately, his friend hadn't lost his habit of being completely and totally oblivious.

Something about the night made him bold. Lan Zhan looked at the gardens with reverence. Praised him for the job he'd done and it was genuine and kind and so much like his old self. The one Wei Ying used to know.

The night's breeze was delicate, and the moon loomed bright above them. So he asked.

"Lan Zhan, do you think we could ever be friends again? Like before? I mean, I know things are different now. You've got your life out there and I know how busy you are. And you've got your partner now. I know I won't be your number one. But it would be nice to be able to call you again every now and then. Not too much, I wouldn't bug you. I don't think."

And Lan Zhan's answer shook him to the core.

He'd broken up with Adam, and they'd been broken up a while. Wei Ying's brain stuttered to a stop, the entire schema he'd formed to understand his old friend collapsing in one fell swoop. His entire life was a lie Adam had forced him to tell. Wei Ying's blood boiled under his skin. If he appeared here and now in this very moment, Wei Ying might actually kill him.

Lan Zhan assured him he was okay, and Wei Ying had to accept it. But not without claiming his place back. Maybe Lan Zhan had just humored him with the best friend moniker, but he'd made it happen once and he could make it happen again.

—

He knew Lan Zhan would be in his home before he walked in. Even without his car in the driveway as proof, Wei Ying knew he wouldn't just leave the boys home alone to wait for his return. Even so, he wasn't nearly prepared enough for the scene he walked into.

Lan Zhan, dicing vegetables in the kitchen as the boys played their video games. He felt like a starving man walking by a buffet, desperately hungry for something right in front of his eyes. Lan Zhan looked good here. A natural fit. His heart yearned for more.

After dinner, they walked through the yard, dodging the last of the rain drops. Wei Ying didn't have to feel bad about flirting with him now. Not the over the top kind he's known for. The subtle kind that makes Lan Zhan blush.

When he rested his head on Lan Zhan's shoulder, he expected him to move away. He doesn't. He wrapped his hand around his waist instead, and not in a best friend way.

—

Wei Ying had been pouting for the last hour. He'd dropped about 17,000 hints about the Star Wars marathon, and Lan Zhan had missed every one. He probably should have just asked him to come over, but he chickened out. Now he's alone under the blanket instead of using it as an excuse to cuddle up next to Lan Zhan like he'd planned. (Hiding all the other blankets and cranking down the air conditioning might not be the most evironmentally friendly move, but it seemed like it would be pretty effective.)

His phone buzzed twenty minutes in and he made an inhuman sounding squawk that resulted in at least one spilled popcorn bowl.

Wen Qing paused the movie and waited for an explanation. Wei Ying flipped his phone around, but she didn't quite understand.

"Lan Zhan's being hit on. I'm in pajamas and someone is hitting on my future husband, Qingqing. We have to go. Now!"

"I'm comfy," she replied. "Besides, the jury's still out."

"The jury is going to be hung if he ends up in someone else’s bed tonight."

His threats didn't phase her, so he played his last card. "He's with Mianmian."

"The hot librarian?"

"The very single, very hot librarian."

He probably should have started with that, in hindsight. She stood up and tossed the remote to Wen Ning. "You're in charge, didi. Wei Ying, text me the bar. I'll meet you in front."

—

It never felt quite like this. Not with anyone else, and not even with Lan Zhan. This was something new, something charged. They were both standing on the edge of something. Both holding a secret they hadn't yet fully admitted.

The way Lan Zhan looked at him made him weak. The way his touch lingered. The way he stood in his space, the scent of his cologne so comforting, so familiar.

The patio was too public for everything Wei Ying wanted to do. But Lan Zhan told him the words he never got to hear that night and swiped his bottom lip and then Lan Zhan's lips were finally on his. Soft and warm and inviting, he couldn't be blamed for melting into it. Physics.

Lan Zhan loved him. Lan Zhan wanted him. There were other complications, things he would have to work out. It wouldn't be perfect immediately, but Lan Zhan loved him back and that was more than he'd ever allowed himself to dream— a happily ever after with his best friend.

Chapter Text

Time Stamp:

Chapter nine, not long after the concert

"Is it like this every time?" Lan Zhan asks a teary eyed Wei Ying, perched by the window with a pout firmly fixed on his face.

"He just left! He's such a little man now! I know it's only for two weeks, but how could he just abandon his baba? And he looked so excited to see--  what, exactly? Jiang Cheng?" Wei Ying rolls his eyes and flops dramatically against the couch. Unsatisfied with the impact, he attempts it again to better results.

"So, every time then."

"Don't get me wrong, Lan Zhan. I love that he loves his cousin. They're like two peas in a pod. But the house is so empty without him and nothing's fun and even the food sucks. What even am I worth if I'm not his baba? What value do I provide?" Wei Ying looks up, and Lan Zhan's relieved to see he's not actually crying.

"I'm extraneous."

"Wei Ying, you have never in your life been extraneous."

It earns him a scoff.

"Maybe you should talk to Aunt Yu. Actually, let's do that. I'll pack and you drive. And while we're there, maybe we'll run into the son that forsook me. We can break bread. Reminisce about the old times."

"Your son did not forsake you. He went for his yearly visit to Lotus Pier, which you signed off and agreed to in advance."

He pulls his lover up and sits underneath him, giving him a chest to complain against. He thought he knew everything there was to know about Wei Ying, but now that they're together, so many more quirks are coming to the surface. Like acute separation anxiety that probably stems from abandonment issues.

It's nothing Lan Zhan can't handle— or solve. It's how he learned physical touch goes a long way to helping him regulate the worst of his emotions. As Wei Ying whines, he slowly thumbs open the buttons of his dress shirt, and strips it off.

"…even washes his own clothes now! And folds them! I don't even fold my—"

Wei Ying stops mid whine, taking in the sight of Lan Zhan's naked chest with great interest.    He's no stranger to that look by now. Wei Ying had been enthusiastic about exploring everything their new coupling had to offer— and while he teased Lan Zhan lightheartedly about his promiscuous past, he was the first to admit he felt rather lucky being the sole beneficiary of such experience now.

But as much as they'd explored each other's bodies, those times had been limited. As a single father, Wei Ying couldn't exactly drop everything to spend a night in Lan Zhan's bed, nor was he ready to explain why Lan Zhan chose to sleep in his bed rather than the guest room like anyone else visiting. Not this soon, at least.

So… limited. In fact, they've done everything but penetrative sex. And while Lan Zhan is thrilled with their romantic life, he still longs to have Wei Ying wrapped around him. To claim him inside and out. The romantic in him craves that bond, and he'd been highly looking forward to these two weeks.

And now they've arrived. They're finally alone in Wei Ying's house without the threat of being interrupted at any moment and scarring young eyes for life, and it's all his mind wants to think about. Well, after Wei Ying finishes with his meltdown, of course. Judging by the heat in his eyes, it won't take long.

"You're so fucking hot, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying groans, like it's some sort of hardship for him.    He hasn't suffered nearly as long as Lan Zhan has, but he lets Wei Ying's eyes drink their fill without pointing it out. "Do I tell you that enough? How hot you are? Because I've never seen anyone hotter. How did I even get you?"

"Simply by existing. Come closer, Wei Ying."

It's not that he minds listening to Wei Ying wax poetic about his body, but he'd much rather feel him. In everything they've done together, Wei Ying's been so responsive to his touch in a way that feeds Lan Zhan's greedy ego. There's no better feeling than watching him writhe with need and knowing only he can satisfy him. That only he gets to.

"Why?" Wei Ying's teasing him now. He's willing to let go of his very real and dire trauma and play with him—    Lan Zhan won't let this precious gift go unappreciated. "Are you going to have your dirty way with me, Zhan-ge?"

"I was going to take advantage of the privacy we've yet to be afforded."

Wei Ying isn't wearing a button down, but an old tee shirt that should have been retired years ago. He has issues parting with old things, Lan Zhan's learned. He's not a hoarder by any means, but he gives attachments to objects and treats them as if they have their own personalities. Lan Zhan doesn't think an article of clothing would be offended by being taken out of his rotation and stored in the attic for his son to sort through when he came of age— but Wei Ying sees it differently and he must respect such sentiments.

So he gingerly lifts the threadbare piece of fabric with more holes than not, carefully prying it from his body like a newlywed might undress his bride, and the added benefit of working so slowly amps Wei Ying up even more. By the time he's free of it and the gorgeous expanse of his chest is bared, Wei Ying's breath comes in quickened pants and his eyes are tinged with hunger.

There are scars on his torso Wei Ying's told him about. He presses his lips to each one, apologizing privately for their existence. Wei Ying doesn't need to know the burden he carries for not fighting harder back then. Had he known the truth of Lan Zhan's feelings for him, he might have come knocking at his door sooner. Had he known there would always be a place for him by his side, many of those scars might not exist.

They're his as much as they are Wei Ying's, so he laves his tongue over them as Wei Ying squirms in his lap.

"Are we going to do the touching dicks thing? Or blowjobs? Or the thigh fucking thing?" Wei Ying's breathless voice rattles off the list of their encounters, and it only riles him up more. He's had him in so many ways he never thought he'd be allowed, but tonight he gets to have him in his arms. He gets to sleep beside him and wake up with Wei Ying still there. He'll be the one to feed him when he wakes, and the one to shove coffee in his grabby hands before his eyes have fully opened.

The thought of fucking him senseless isn't not arousing, but the domesticity of the aftermath almost turns him on more.

"We can do everything. We have time."

He reaches up and captures Wei Ying's lips. It didn't take him long to memorize the shape of them, and his heart still flutters every time they kiss because this man has been his dream since he was old enough to fantasize about such things, there's a comfort that comes along with it. A dichotomy of being allowed to have something that also belongs to him.

It thrills him to no end.

"Everything?"

Wei Ying grinds himself into Lan Zhan's lap and smiles slyly when he finds what he's looking for there. Not that it's a surprise to either of them. He's hard more often than not when Wei Ying get this look in his eyes.

"What if I wanted something different? Something we haven't done before?"

His fingers trail down Lan Zhan's chest, flicking over his hardened nipples with a devilish glee. He learned how sensitive they were and hasn't missed an opportunity yet to make Lan Zhan's body clench. He loves it, more so that Wei Ying's the only one who's ever really paid attention to them. He takes Lan Zhan's arousal as a personal challenge, where his other lovers had taken him for granted.

"We've done so much, though," Lan Zhan murmurs, kissing up his neck and along his jaw. It's Wei Ying's erogenous zone and the first touch usually gets him a full body shudder. Tonight, it gets him a moan as well.

"Lan Zhan…"

He's crossing over from teasing to whining, and it's usually where Lan Zhan gives in. Not because he's weak— okay, he is weak for Wei Ying but he does have enough mental will power to hold out longer— but because they rarely have enough time for him to drag things out. He's rarely toyed with him, and Wei Ying might have built up an misplaced expectation of how easily Lan Zhan will fold for him.

"Wei Ying."

"Tell me what you thought when you saw me again that day in the piano room."

He'd told him countless times already, but Wei Ying loves hearing the story. So he tells him once again, as he will every time he asks.

"Well," he starts, teasing the lobe of his ear in his teeth just to feel him shiver. "I had no idea you were there. My brother hadn't told me."

Wei Ying laughs. "You thought a boy like A-Yuan existed without my influence?"

"Mmh. I should have known. I was a fool."

"Keep going," Wei Ying urges him, still teasing his chest.

"I'd just asked him about the mentoring program and you showed up in the doorway. When I saw you again," Lan Zhan pauses here. Wei Ying looks down expectantly, even though he's heard the story so many times he can tell it to himself.

"You made my knees weak. You were just so much, Wei Ying. So beautiful I could hardly breathe just looking at you. It was like I was a teenager again, tongue tied and awkward."

"You never said that before. The tongue tied part."

Of course he hadn't. "It's embarrassing."

"Well, I heard you before I saw you. I knew what I was walking into and you still took my breath away, too, Zhan-ge. It still felt surreal. Gods, my heart was pounding so hard in my chest I swore you could hear it. Could you, Lan Zhan? Did you hear it?"

"How could I, over the sound of my own?"

Wei Ying throws his head back at this and laughs, teasing him about his corny pickup lines and his long hair tickles Lan Zhan's thighs. The expanse of his neck calls to him, and there's no one here to witness whatever marks he leaves on it. He takes it for himself, laves his tongue of the sensitive skin of his pulse point, the one that drives Wei Ying mad, and he scrapes his teeth against it.

"You were standing just steps away and I missed you so much. When you called me Mr. Lan, I was crushed. And then you said my name, so casually, like we were still us. Like nothing had changed. Like I was still your Lan Zhan—"

Wei Ying's laughter ends; his expression turns dangerous.

"You were always my Lan Zhan. Always."

Their motions are frantic now, and Wei Ying descends on him with force not unlike the fantasy he once had, mauling his neck in return as he finishes the story.

"The next morning, I thought about you. I stood in the shower and fucked my fist thinking about you. About how good you would feel sinking down on me. I imagined you taking me so well, writhing on my cock and taking what you wanted from me until you came all over my chest. And it was the hardest I'd come in years."

Wei Ying's kisses him frantically now, at the same time as he digs his nails into him, trying    to pull him closer.

"Want that, Zhan-ge. Want you inside me. Want to be filled with you. Want you so deep inside me I can't breathe," Wei Ying moans, working himself into more and more of a frenzy. Reaching down, he cups Lan Zhan's length through his denim, pressing the heel of his palm into it before fumbling at the button.

"Wei Ying— not here. Upstairs," Lan Zhan manages, with his last ounce of sanity.   

He pulls back, and his pupils are pitch black, eclipsing the silver of his eyes.

"Right. Family couch. Bad idea."

Then he's pulling him with all his strength, and Lan Zhan stumbles after him. They climb the stairs like teenagers, fumbling with the remainder of their clothes along the way. His jeans end up tossed on the living room floor next to Wei Yings, and his boxers fall on the banister post for Wei Ying to cackle gleefully at later.

The bed still isn't made since the morning, and half the blankets lay on the floor from when Wei Ying must have slid off the mattress, but neither of them care. Lan Zhan steps over it, tossing Wei Ying back first onto the mattress where he can see the entirety of him— all the miles of tanned skin and the muscles honed by his work in the yard. And his curves. Gods.

He strokes his own cock while he plans where his marks will go. Wei Ying's hip. The soft pudge below his belly button. His inner thigh. Two there, matching. The swell of his ass. He wants his body littered with the proof of Lan Zhan's desire so every time he bares his skin he remembers.

He reaches for the nightstand drawer and Wei Ying reaches over, stopping him.

"Just lube?"

Lan Zhan swallows, and nods. They've talked about it, and they've both been tested. When Wei Ying learned he'd never gone bare before (Adam had always insisted on condoms because it was less messy, but he suspects his true motivations were far less innocent), Wei Ying practically dragged him to the clinic for a clean bill of health. So it isn't those sort of concerns that give him pause, but his desire not to disappoint Wei Ying their first time together.

It's what he wants, though, so he'll just… slide into Wei Ying bare, without anything to mitigate the exquisite heat of his body.

"Just lube."

Wei Ying looks like a painting the way his hair fans out around him and a soft blush rises up his cheeks. He's come back down from how lost he'd been down stairs, a little bit of coy leaks into his grin. Lan Zhan has already had him so many ways and he still can't believe he gets more of him. That this isn't some extended dream he's yet to wake up from.

Wei Ying chose him, and if he plays his cards right, he might possibly spend his life like this— giving him pleasure and reaping the rewards after in the form of sleepy cuddles and Wei Ying's long winded rambles right before he passes out.

If this is a dream, and anyone dared to wake him from it, he might possibly strangle them.

"Do I look good, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying teases, asking for an answer he can already see. It's evident in Lan Zhan's grip— he's hard. Possibly harder than Wei Ying's seen him yet, and he pulls his hand away and lets his erection bob out in front of him.

"Fuck. Gods, I forget how big you are." Wei Ying's already scrambling to all fours and crawling across the bed to get him in his mouth, and the second his lips wrap around the crown of his cock, Lan Zhan hisses and fights like hell to keep his hips from thrusting forward like they want to.

"Wei Ying, careful," he warns, because his mouth is too talented and in the time they've come to know each other's bodies, Wei Ying has taken a particular pride in his ability to literally suck the cum out of Lan Zhan's dick in less than five minutes, but it might not even take that long right now.

Wei Ying takes him deep, sinking down with a sinful moan that vibrates through him and Lan Zhan remembers. They're in no hurry. He can come right now in Wei Ying's talented mouth and take his time opening him up after. They're not rushing to come before they get caught, or Wei Ying leaving for his next obligation.

There's no where he needs to be besides right here. The pleasure builds as Wei Ying works his tongue through his slit and he lets himself look down to see his lover's swollen lips slide over the head of his cock, wet and shiny with saliva and precum.

"Can I— can I film you?"

Wei Ying pulls off his cock, panting slightly, and wipes the mess from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You want to jack off to this later, Lan Zhan?" He grins and reaches for Lan Zhan's phone where it charges on the nightstand. "You want to stroke your big cock while you watch me suck you?"

His yes comes out more like a moan, and Wei Ying takes the initiative to set it up for him so all he has to do is press record. And when he does, when the seconds start counting, Wei Ying glances up at him through his lashes, lips still reddened and puffy, and winks at him before taking him back in his mouth.

This time, he performs. His moans are deeper, and so is the bob of his head. He works himself down until Lan Zhan can feel the head of his cock breaching his throat, gagging a little but working past the discomfort because he loves pleasing Lan Zhan more than his next breath, he'd told him once in the afterglow.

His eyes find the camera lens and Lan Zhan meets his gaze through it. Wei Ying looks incredible like this, completely debauched but exuberant about it. Hollowing his cheeks on an upstroke, he makes a show of tapping Lan Zhan's cock against his tongue before swiping his head over his lips. It's lewd and perverted, but the thought of him putting on this show for his future self drives Lan Zhan closer to the edge than he already was.

"You going to give me what I want, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying asks, his voice broken from hte state of his throat. "You gonna cum in your straight best friend's mouth?"

That's all it takes. That and Wei Ying's mouth sinking back down on him. He comes so hard his vision whites out and he doubles over, and Wei Ying sucks him through it with fervor. The phone lands somewhere, still recording the noises he's making through his orgasm. Of course Wei Ying would use his admission against him in his weakest moment, bringing back all of his illicit fantasies he's had since puberty.

When he shivers from oversensitivity, Wei Ying pulls off him and climbs his body, but his words don't register as much as his touch does. They end up on their sides and facing each other, where Wei Ying finds his panting mouth and works his own against it. His kiss is deep because he knows how much Lan Zhan loves savoring the taste of himself in Wei Ying's mouth.

"Fuck, baobei. New kink unlocked. I'm just gonna— " Wei Ying reaches over the side of the bed and finds his phone, turning off the recording before resuming his place.

It gives Lan Zhan a moment for the bells in his ears to quit ringing and his heartbeat to even out, and when he returns he grasps onto his body like a life line.

"Wei Ying."

When it's this good, he goes non verbal and Wei Ying's name is all he can say. He gets teased for it later, but he knows Wei Ying loves it. He looks at him now with his chest puffed out, a look of satisfaction on his face. He's gorgeous like this.

Lan Zhan runs his finger along the dip of his waist, then back around to cup his ass and pull up on it, letting cool air brush against Wei Ying's hole. It gets him a soft gasp, so he keeps going, seeking out the place he's about to claim for his own, brushing his dry finger over it. Not with intent, just to see the kaleidoscope of expressions as they pass over Wei Ying's face.

The grin becomes decidedly less smug.

He teases it, pressing and tapping, pulling gently and letting it go. He wants Wei Ying to get used to him here. One day, he'll have his body trained to welcome him in with no resistance. And even then, he'll still work him open. He'll still beg Wei Ying's body for permission with his touch.

He'd stashed the lube under the pillow when he grabbed it and and reaches for it now to coat his fingers thoroughly.

"How do you want me?" Wei Ying asks him, and there's a small thread of nervousness running through the words. He wants to answer every way possible, but that isn't helpful in the moment. He will have him in all those ways, but their first time, he way he wants him to remember for as long as he's blessed with Wei Ying beside him, is with Lan Zhan staring into his eyes.

"On your back, like this."

Flat on his back with his legs pulled up, Wei Ying gazes up at at him and Lan Zhan has to remind himself to breathe at the picture he makes. His cock is still hard, neglected for all the pleasure he gave Lan Zhan, leaking onto his stomach and his entire body is flushed. His hold, bared now to Lan Zhan, twitches in invitation.

"Gonna touch me, Lan Zhan, or just look at me all night?"

He's cocky now, but when Lan Zhan returns the favor and sinks down on his cock, Wei Ying shouts out a curse so loud it hurts both their ears.

"Warning! Fuck!" Wei Ying moans, his entire body jerking. Lan Zhan bobs a few times, getting his cock nice and wet, and at the same time his slick finger presses against his hole again, working its way inside while Wei Ying grips his hair with both hands.

"Gods, that's just your finger," Wei Ying pants, looking down even though Lan Zhan's head obstructs his view. The muscles clench around him, and Wei Ying squirms under Lan Zhan's ministrations like it can't find the right state of being to absorb the pleasure.

"You're just so perfect, Lan Zhan— I can't— gods, I'm going to have you inside me— you're going to put your big dick inside me— ahh — my best friend is going to fuck me—"

Wei Ying rambles as Lan Zhan works to relax his opening, confessing things he'd been holding back, perhaps for this moment, and the truth comes spilling out of him without restraint like some beautifully composed song Lan Zhan will hear once and never again.

"Remember the first night you cooked me dinner, Zhan-ge? I walked in and — fuck, right there baby— you were cooking for us and I— I went upstairs and showered— I fucking myself Lan Zhan— I came so hard I had to bite my arm from moaning—"

He goes on as Lan Zhan's brain wraps itself around the confession— he'd fantasized himself that Wei Ying had done it but to hear it now, when he's got two fingers deep inside him and about to add a third— his refractory time all but vanishes and his cock roars back to life.

Wei Ying tells him everything— all the dirty fantasies he had about him, how Lan Zhan made him realize he wanted men, how he thought about him before they even met again. How jealous he was that he wasn't the one to make him happy. And, because he's Wei Ying, he mentions the pots again.

He slides his fingers out of him after one last pass over his prostate and Wei Ying whimpers at the cruelty of leaving him empty while he slicks up his cock with lube. It's a problem easily fixed and he lines himself back up. Whatever look is on his face shocks Wei Ying into silence and his mouth falls open, wordlessly, the moment before Lan Zhan breaches him.

Condom or no condom, nothing could have ever prepared him for the feeling of Wei Ying's body sucking him in, and it takes all the restraint he possesses not to bottom out with one thrust.

"Fuck, Lan Zhan… This is— it's never—"

Wei Ying can't find the words, but Lan Zhan knows what he means. It's never felt this way for him either. He rocks his hips, getting deeper and deeper each time, and Wei Ying's eyes— gray like smoke, like the sky the day he found him with his head stuck in his jeep, Wei Ying's gaze is his future. He'll never want to look anywhere else, never want to see anything but this.

It feels like waking up, in a way, or being born again. Both of the pasts that defined him are inconsequential to this moment.

When he finally bottoms out and his entire length is clenched tightly in Wei Ying's hold, he feels like he's found his new home. This is where he was always meant to be.

"I love you, Wei Ying. I have always loved you."

The confession lands softly, and Wei Ying whimpers again and pulls him in for a flurry of kisses. On his lips. Along his jaw. Across his brow. The love overflows as they come together and Lan Zhan starts his thrusts in earnest, each stroke punching out a sinful sound from the man beneath him.

It starts slow and soft, but Wei Ying's pleas turn filthy and his body reacts in kind, seeking out the spot inside him that reduces him to a blubbering mess and aiming every other stroke to hit it. Wei Ying begs for more, for deeper, for harder and he gives it to him every time until he's pistoning his hips without mercy, until Wei Ying loses the ability to speak and his cries are reduced to moans and then silent pleas. Lan Zhan reaches down and takes him in hand, stroking his cock to the rhythm of his thrusts until Wei Ying's eyes roll back in his head.

When he comes around his cock, Lan Zhan nearly ascends. It is better than every fantasy. It makes a mockery of every lover he's ever had in the past. He can't last through it because it feels so good and so right, it feels like more than sex and more than love. He races forward to his own end, hips stuttering to a stop as he bottoms out and fills Wei Ying with an orgasm even more powerful than the one he'd just sucked out of him.

They lay together after, and the sun's only barely started to drop in the sky. They fucked through lunch, and he hears the gurgle of Wei Ying's stomach demanding his attention.

His grand plans of feeding him don't exactly mesh well with the boneless lump Wei Ying left him in, so he reaches for his phone and places a to go order, smiling to himself when he has to click past the video of Wei Ying making out with his cock.

Wei Ying looks at him with a private smile.

"I can't believe I just fucked my best friend," he snickers, tracing patterns over Lan Zhan's chest. "Like, my best friend wiped his cum out of my ass."

"I thought we were boyfriends," Lan Zhan answers. "Should we go find that barista and tell her I've been downgraded?"

"Lan Zhan! You know what I mean! Of course you're my boyfriend! But you're also my best friend. You can be both."

Lan Zhan gives him a hum of approval. Best friend. Boyfriend. He loves both. But.

"What else can I be?"

Wei Ying thinks about it, dramatically of course. Tapping his nose before a glint of humor fills his eyes. "Roommate?"

Lan Zhan's heart flips in his chest. "Wei Ying wants me to live here? With— with you and A-Yuan?"

"Well, maybe not right away. But maybe at the start of the year? I mean, it'll be nice having you hear when I take over the school. And it'll give A-Yuan enough time to get used to the idea of sharing me again, though between you and me, I don't think he'll mind that much. He thinks you're like, the coolest."

Lan Zhan watches Wei Ying as he continues talking about the idea, and how easy it would be to make room for him in their lives. It's a welcome topic, but he could listen to Wei Ying talk about anything and be content.

When he's done, he looks over and that thread of nervousness is back.

"What do you say, Lan Zhan? I mean it's not a swanky apartment in the city, but it's got heart. And a vegetable garden. And you'll get to see my beautiful face every morning. So, you wanna like, come home to me? To us?"

"Wei Ying. I've never wanted anything more."