Archive of Our Own

Wei Ying stares wide-eyed at the paper in front of him. 

It’s filled from top to bottom with lines of text, so many lines of text, but what grabs his attention is the header.

A Collaboration Between Tongji and Fudan University.

“A what ?”

Wei Ying claps a hand over his mouth when every head in the lecture hall turns to him. He slowly removes it when his professor looks at him, brow raised, and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Anyways,” their professor says, not a stranger to Wei Ying’s outbursts, “we’ve decided to do something different for senior projects this year. As you all know, our Tongji University has a strong Engineering program. You’ve all demonstrated in your years here that you have what it takes to bring a variety of ideas to life.”

Wei Ying leans forward in his seat.

“However,” their professor continues, “the ideas you’ve brought to life have primarily been your own, and so they stem from areas that you feel comfortable working in. In reality, things will not be this simple when you get a job. You may be asked to design and engineer something for a field that you have no experience with. In that case, what do you do?”

Wei Ying looks around, and when no one looks like they’re going to answer, he clears his throat. “Uh, research?”

“Research helps,” the professor nods. “But the fact of the matter is, research can’t take you very far if you don’t have the ability to think outside the box. And that’s where the senior project comes in. We want to judge everyone’s ability to think outside the box, to engineer something unfamiliar to them.”

A pause.

“Everyone in this room will be paired up with a student from Fudan University to complete a senior project meant to challenge your skills. As I’m sure you all know, Fudan University has a nationally recognized Music program.”

“Music?”

It’s not Wei Ying who speaks, but he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“You and your partner will be completing a project of your choosing and presenting it in front of both universities at the end of the year. What you do is completely up to you, but it has to equally incorporate both music and engineering. Half the battle will be figuring out what to even do. The other half is seamlessly bringing the idea to life.”

Most everyone groans, which is understandable, but Wei Ying doesn’t. Sure, it’s a project that’s suddenly dumped itself onto them, but Wei Ying loves to engineer, loves to invent. He can clearly see the challenge in this and he’s excited to create something new.

“In some ways, having a partner will be easier. They can teach you, complete your ideas, or introduce you to new perspectives. On the other hand, completing the project will be difficult and frustrating if you can’t get on the same page. You may have a clash of ideas, or not be able to understand your partner’s area of study well enough to execute an outstanding project.” Their professor taps the side of his head. “This project will also encourage communication and teamwork. These are essential skills.”

A student in front of Wei Ying raises his hand. “How will we work with our partner? We’re on different campuses. It won’t be easy to meet up.”

“Which is why we’ve given you six months to get it done.” The professor holds up the sheet he’d passed out. “On the back of your handout, you’ll find who you’ve been partnered up with. We understand that meeting up may not be possible, so we’ve given you your partner’s email, and them yours. These can all be used to log onto a university-made program that will allow you to video chat. We highly recommend using this, and you should aim to introduce yourselves to your partners within the next week. Any questions?”

The sound of papers being flipped echoes throughout the lecture hall as everyone races to see who their partner is. Wei Ying is no exception.

His eyes skim down the page until he sees his name, and beside it, the name of the man he’s meant to work with for the next half year.

Group 13: Wei Ying (Tongji) and Lan Zhan (Fudan).

*****

Wei Ying has been thinking about the project since its announcement in class. His fingers ache to engineer something new, and though he doesn’t know what it’ll be yet, the thrill of it excites him. So naturally, he emails Lan Zhan as soon as he gets back home.

From: Wei Ying <[email protected]>
To: Lan Zhan <[email protected]>

Subject: Collaboration

Hey Lan Zhan! I’m Wei Ying, your partner for this collaboration thing, but you probably already know that, haha. I’m wondering when you’re free to video chat? We can start throwing some ideas around. I’m free anytime this week after 6pm. Let me know!

Wei Ying tosses his phone on the couch and leaves to grab himself a snack from the kitchen. When he gets back, he sees an email notification on his phone.

From: Lan Zhan <[email protected]>
To: Wei Ying <[email protected]>

Re: Collaboration

Hello Wei Ying,

I am free tomorrow at 6:30pm. 

Wei Ying grins and emails Lan Zhan back with confirmation that tomorrow works great, and adds a heart-eyes emoji at the end for the hell of it. A man of few words, Wei Ying thinks, but he emailed back super fast, so he must be excited.

Wei Ying tosses his phone back onto the couch as the door to the apartment flies open. 

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Ying calls. “How’s my favorite brother doing?”

“I’m exhausted,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “I will never understand professors who keep everyone in class past its ending time.” Wei Ying smiles sympathetically and pats the cushion next to him. Jiang Cheng walks over and flops down onto the couch. He tips his head back, closes his eyes, and sighs. “How about you? I heard you guys were assigned this big project and that only you were excited about it.”

“Who told you that?” Wei Ying frowns. Jiang Cheng doesn’t give him an answer. “Well, whatever. Not my fault I enjoy what I do.”

“What’s the project, anyway?”

Wei Ying explains the premise of it to Jiang Cheng. “It’s so cool,” he ends with. “I mean, I have no idea what we’ll do. I’m not musically talented enough to think of anything on my own, but that’s why I have Lan Zhan.”

Jiang Cheng arches a brow. “Didn’t you take flute lessons for a few years?”

Wei Ying waves his hand in dismissal. “I barely remember anything, Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng cracks his neck. “So, this Lan Zhan. You’re ‘meeting’ him tomorrow?”

“Yup!”

“Are you nervous?”

Wei Ying tilts his head. “Why would I be nervous?”

Jiang Cheng shrugs. “I don’t know. You’ve never seen the guy and he’s never seen you. Maybe it’ll be awkward. What if he thinks you’re ugly?” Jiang Cheng says the last part jokingly, but Wei Ying’s eyes widen and his mouth pops open.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. 

“...I was kidding.”

“Oh my god, Jiang Cheng.” Wei Ying gets to his feet. 

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “He’s not going to think you’re ugly, it was a joke .”

“I’m not worried he’ll think I’m ugly,” Wei Ying says with a wave of his hand. “I know I’m not. But I need to, like, prepare myself. I need to know what he looks like before we officially meet.”

Jiang Cheng raises a brow. “And how do you plan on doing that? Going down to Fudan University tomorrow morning and scoping him out?”

Wei Ying snorts. “What do you take me for? A stalker?” Wei Ying grabs his phone and unlocks it. “No, I’m going to see if he has any social media. He’ll probably have pictures of himself there.”

Jiang Cheng says nothing, and when Wei Ying looks up, his dear brother is staring at him with a dead look in his eyes.

“Jiang Cheng, help me.”

“No.”

“Come on!”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not going to help you stalk someone on social media. The world isn’t going to end if you don’t know what he looks like.” Jiang Cheng sits up. “Plus, I’m hungry.”

“I’ll get you food!” Wei Ying throws his phone at Jiang Cheng and bolts towards the kitchen. “Look for him until I get back!”

“Wh— Hey!” Jiang Cheng calls after him. 

Wei Ying pretends he can’t hear him.

“Unbelievable,” Jiang Cheng mutters.

A while later, Wei Ying walks back out with a plate of food in hand. “Did you find him yet?”

“Nope.” Jiang Cheng looks up. “Maybe he doesn’t have one.”

“Nonsense. Everyone has social media nowadays,” he explains, and takes a bite of the sandwich he made.

Jiang Cheng’s jaw drops. “That’s mine!”

“Find him first and then you’ll get your food,” says Wei Ying while sticking his tongue out. Jiang Cheng responds with a sturdy middle finger.

And then, two minutes later, Jiang Cheng mutters a Finally under his breath. 

“Found him.” Jiang Cheng hands Wei Ying his phone back, who grabs it excitedly. Jiang Cheng quickly swipes the sandwich from Wei Ying before he can swallow it whole. “Don’t get your hopes up. He doesn’t have any pictures of himself, unless he’s a rabbit.”

Wei Ying frowns at his phone as he scrolls. Whoever this Lan Zhan is, his entire page is filled with black and white bunnies. Granted, they are (incredibly!) cute, but not at all what Wei Ying was looking for. “Maybe it’s not him.”

“His bio says he’s studying music at Fudan University, so I doubt that.” Jiang Cheng grabs the television remote and busies himself with finding a movie. 

Wei Ying pouts. “Not even a single picture? In all the years he’d had this account, not one picture?” Wei Ying begins swiping his finger along the screen at an inhuman speed, racing towards the end of Lan Zhan’s page. “There has to be something .”

And because nothing ever goes right for Wei Ying, his thumb grazes past a heart beneath a two-year old picture.

It turns red.

Wei Ying screams.

“What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng shields his ears with his hands and shoots Wei Ying an incredulous look. “Are you trying to get us kicked out?!”

“I accidentally liked a picture,” Wei Ying fumbles. “From years ago.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “So?”

“ So? ” Wei Ying drops his phone to the floor and cradles his head in his hands. “That’s it. My life is over. I need to request a new partner or drop out of school.”

“ Or, and stay with me here, you could, I don’t know, not give a shit?” Jiang Cheng snorts. “He has, like, three thousand followers. He won’t notice that you liked one of his pictures.” 

“He might! Some people obsess over their social media.”

“Then just follow the guy so it looks intentional.”

“That’s even worse!”

Jiang Cheng locks his jaw. He rubs at his temple and his eyebrows twitch. “I don’t even know why I bother with you,” he mutters, then stands up. “I’m going to bed.”

“But—!”

“Listen,” Jiang Cheng groans, already halfway to his room. “You will be fine. ”

*****

Wei Ying is not fine.

He sits in front of his computer, the clock reads 6:29pm, and he is absolutely not fine .

A thousand questions rush through his mind.

What if we don’t get along? What if he thinks I’m stupid? What if he’s not actually Lan Zhan, and this guy killed the real Lan Zhan and stole his identity and I’m talking to a murderer? Oh my god, that would be my luck, getting roped into a murderer’s plans. Even worse, what if he noticed that I liked a two-year old photo of his and now he thinks I’m weird and reports me? Who’s even going to call who? If he doesn’t call me by 6:31pm should I call him? Or should I wait until 6:32pm, in case he’s in the bathroom? Or — 

Wei Ying’s thoughts are interrupted by a LAN ZHAN is calling… flashing across his screen.

He gulps.

Wei Ying accepts the call then quickly ducks to the side of his computer. The loading icon on his screen seems to drag on forever before it finally disappears, and a box opens on his end that showcases the wall behind his chair. He feels a little bad for not being in the camera’s view, but he’s determined to wait until Lan Zhan comes on screen first.

The loading icon for Lan Zhan’s end drags on even longer. Wei Ying contemplates just ending the call and making up a lie about how his computer isn’t working. That would be the easiest way to get out of this, the easiest way to postpone this ‘meeting’ for a while longer and save Wei Ying the embarrassment sure to come with it. Before he can follow through with this plan, though, the loading finally comes to an end and a second box appears on his screen.

When the darkness fades away and a face pops up, Wei Ying almost falls out of his chair. 

What the fuck, he thinks. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

Wei Ying counts to three, takes a breath, then shoots upwards. “Sorry, I dropped my pen,” he says, not even trying to make his lie sound convincing, because what the fuck, Lan Zhan is gorgeous . He has the brightest eyes Wei Ying’s ever seen, the nicest, longest eyelashes, and black hair draping over his shoulder. This guy has clearly won the lottery of attractive genes, which means he must be lacking in something else, like maybe his voice— 

“It’s fine.”

WHAT THE FUCK, Wei Ying thinks. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK.

Wei Ying plasters a wide grin onto his face and laughs through his teeth. It kind of sounds more like he’s crying. Lan Zhan looks like he wants to ask if Wei Ying’s okay, but he doesn’t, most likely because he doesn’t care. “So, you’re Lan Zhan, huh?”

Lan Zhan gives a small nod. “Yes.”

Silence.

“Are you not going to ask me if I’m Wei Ying?” Wei Ying teases.

“No.”

Wei Ying’s smile falters. “Why not?”

Lan Zhan blinks. “Are you not?”

“Well, no, I am, but... “ Wei Ying trails off. “Never mind. Are you excited to work together? I have to admit, I’m pretty pumped for this project.”

“Mm.” Lan Zhan shifts in his seat. “I think it will be a good experience.”

“Exactly!” Wei Ying agrees.

“Many were not happy with the idea, though,” Lan Zhan says. “They called it a waste of time.”

Wei Ying snorts. “Yeah, it was the same over here.” He props his chin on his hand. “So, what speech did they give you guys?” Wei Ying asks. When Lan Zhan frowns in confusion, he elaborates, “You know, about why this project is so important. For us, it was that we need to know how to design and engineer things unfamiliar to us.”

“Mm.” Lan Zhan sits straighter in his chair. “For us, that everyone expresses music in their own way, so having to do so using an unfamiliar technique will broaden our understanding of it.”

“That’s amazing,” Wei Ying says, half about Lan Zhan’s answer, half about Lan Zhan’s lips.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying’s gaze flickers back to his eyes. “I will admit that I don’t have any ideas yet.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Wei Ying assures. “I don’t either, but we have a lot of time, so I’m not worried. I was hoping we could just… I don’t know, talk about what we do? If you learn a little more about engineering and I learn a little more about music, it’ll be easier to bounce ideas off of each other.”

Lan Zhan hums. “I agree.”

“Great!” Wei Ying grins. This is going splendidly so far. “You first. What instrument do you play? Wait, let me guess! You look like a piano guy, but I can’t say for sure unless you show me your hands.”

“I play the guqin,” Lan Zhan answers, not granting Wei Ying the happiness he seeks.

“Oh? How fancy,” Wei Ying says in awe. “Can I see it?”

Lan Zhan considers Wei Ying’s request for a long moment before giving him a small nod and getting up from his chair. He walks off screen for a few seconds, then reappears with his guqin in hand. It’s colored a deep black. Lan Zhan takes a seat.

“Ooh!” Wei Ying’s eyes sparkle as his gaze roams over the instrument. “Can you play something for me?”

Lan Zhan hesitates, then plays two notes.

Wei Ying pouts. “That’s it? How will that help my inspirational juices flow?”

“What do you like to engineer?” Lan Zhan asks, effectively taking the focus off of himself. Which is fine, because Wei Ying loves talking about his own work.

“Oh, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying begins with a click of his tongue. “I’m a bit of a mad scientist. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I’ve had my entire apartment complex evacuated due to a, uh, fire scare.” Lan Zhan’s eyes widen slightly. “But there was no fire! Just smoke. A little more than the fire department likes, but anyway. I’ll try anything and everything, really. Motors, switches, Tesla coils… There are a lot of basic things I can make but the fun part is tweaking each one to do something special. Like for our project, the fundamental part of whatever we engineer will probably be super simple, but what we have it do is going to be the unique part.”

Lan Zhan nods, clearly listening to Wei Ying’s every word. Wei Ying’s heart clenches at the sight; he’s used to others not paying attention or very obviously not caring about what he does. Granted, Lan Zhan is only listening because it’s going to be helpful for their project, but Wei Ying will take any sort of interest he can get.

“Music is similar,” Lan Zhan says. “There are a finite number of notes you can play on every instrument, but you can arrange them in an infinite number of ways.”

Wei Ying tilts his head. “Woah, I never thought of it that way before,” he muses, then a smile splits across his face. “Looks like music and engineering are more alike than I thought.”

“Mn.” 

Silence hits again, but Wei Ying doesn’t mind, because now he can focus on Lan Zhan’s face again. God, he’s so attractive , he internally whines, and it doesn’t help that he’s a good listener, and has a good voice, and can play the guqin, and probably a bunch of other things that Wei Ying really doesn’t have much evidence to support other than what’s been said in these last ten minutes.

Then Lan Zhan turns to place his guqin down, and his arm flexes, and oh my god, he has muscle , and Wei Ying’s mouth goes dry.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, snapping Wei Ying back to reality. A cold, harsh reality where Lan Zhan’s arms are on the other side of a screen. “If we have nothing else to talk about, I should go. I have some work to do.”

“Oh, okay. Should we talk again soon? Maybe we can meet at this time every week?”

“That works,” Lan Zhan says, and then, “Have a good night.”

“Bye,” Wei Ying breathes, right as the call ends, and then in a whisper, “Fuck.”

Wei Ying emerges from his room a new man. 

A reborn, dazed, and slightly horny new man.

Wei Ying slowly makes his way to the living room. He comes to a stop between the television and Jiang Cheng, who has helped himself to a piece of cake.

Jiang Cheng stops mid-bite and raises a brow. “One, I can’t see the TV. Two, why do you look like a zombie?”

“He’s hot,” Wei Ying mumbles.

“What?” Jiang Cheng sits up. “Speak up.”

“He’s hot!” Wei Ying yells. Jiang Cheng flinches. “He’s so hot, Jiang Cheng!”

Jiang Cheng gets up, turns off the TV, and walks to his room. “I’m not dealing with this today,” he says before locking his door, leaving Wei Ying to scream into the couch cushions alone.

*****

To Wei Ying’s absolute delight, the week passes quickly.

Now, on this fabulous Wednesday evening, Wei Ying beams when Lan Zhan’s face pops up on his screen at exactly 6:30pm. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan gives him a small nod. “Hello, Wei Ying.”

“How are you? How was your week?”

“It was fine. And yours?”

“Same as always,” Wei Ying says with a wave of his hand. “You know how it is.”

A pause. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Wei Ying doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he settles for changing the topic completely. “So, Lan Zhan, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“I was thinking we could brainstorm ideas,” says Lan Zhan. “It’s alright if we don’t settle on a project, but it would be good to try.”

“Yes. I agree. Absolutely.” Wei Ying flashes Lan Zhan a thumbs up. “Then let’s get to it!”

They sit in silence for the next few minutes, racking their brains for project ideas. Wei Ying lets out the occasional huff as he does, and it’s only by some stroke of luck that an idea finally pops into his mind.

“Oh!” Wei Ying gasps, jumping in his seat. “I got it!”

Lan Zhan stares at him, waiting.

“Why don’t we make an instrument?” Wei Ying suggests. “Like, one that doesn’t exist.”

“That would be interesting,” Lan Zhan hums. 

“Or we could make a game? Have you ever played Guitar Hero ?” Lan Zhan furrows his brows, which Wei Ying takes as a no. “It’s a game where you play this fake guitar and try to match song notes on a screen. Maybe we could do something like that?”

“But that’s not original,” Lan Zhan says, “if there’s already a game like that.”

“Oh, duh.” Wei Ying sighs. “Okay, so let’s stick with the new instrument idea for now. Since you’re the musical genius, can you think of a new instrument we could make?”

Lan Zhan considers Wei Ying’s question for a long while, brows furrowed in concentration. “Not exactly. Maybe we could think of a way to improve a current instrument instead?”

Wei Ying’s eyes light up. “Yes! You’re a genius, Lan Zhan! So, let’s use your guqin for this. Is there something about it that you—”

“My guqin is perfect.”

The abruptness of those words throws Wei Ying completely off. He takes in Lan Zhan’s expression, completely serious, and bursts into laughter. “Lan Zhan, you’re really protective of it, aren’t you?”

“There is nothing about it that I would change,” Lan Zhan says in shy defense, turning his face away. 

Wei Ying’s heart does somersaults in his chest. “I get it, I do. Let’s think of it this way, then. Don’t think about ways to improve it, but maybe something that you think would be neat if it could also do? Like, I don’t know, summoning spirits whenever you play it.”

That would actually be really cool, Wei Ying thinks. Imagine that, if playing the guqin could let you talk to the dead! 

Wei Ying’s mind begins to craft a heartbreaking story of a man trying to communicate with his dead lover using this very method, and he’d probably do it for a long time, like thirteen years or something, and Wei Ying is getting really into this made-up tale of his that he almost doesn’t notice when Lan Zhan speaks again.

“Maybe something to help with expressing the music,” Lan Zhan says. 

“Ooh.” Wei Ying blinks. “Like what?”

“There might be songs where you’d want the audience to envision a certain setting, like the ocean,” Lan Zhan explains. “In that case, hearing waves crashing or wind blowing might immerse them in the music more.”

Wei Ying nods in understanding. “So, maybe having a certain string of notes trigger another sound? So you can hear wind blowing during certain parts of the song?”

“Something like that,” Lan Zhan hums, though he looks off to the side as he says it. Wei Ying gets the impression that his heart doesn’t seem too set on the idea.

Wei Ying smiles. “Well, that’s better than any idea I have. Let’s try it, Lan Zhan, and if we don’t like it, we can go with something else.” Wei Ying hums in thought. “I’m guessing we’d have to craft something that could connect to the guqin strings and somehow translate their movement into sound. It’ll be a little difficult to figure out where to put all the machinery, you know? It might end up making the guqin look like a monster.”

Lan Zhan visibly pales at that. “I don’t think we should use my guqin for this.”

Wei Ying laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Lan Zhan. We’ll probably need to make our own.”

Lan Zhan nods, relief coloring his face. “I can make one.”

“Great!” Wei Ying rubs his hands together. “So you can work on making the guqin, and you can decorate it really nicely, too. Maybe that will help the inspiration flow more. In the meantime, I’ll try to figure out all the boring tech stuff.”

“Mn.” Wei Ying can almost swear he sees a smile tug at Lan Zhan’s lips. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you . I would be completely lost without your input,” Wei Ying sniffs dramatically. He winks at Lan Zhan. “I’ll talk to you next week?”

“Actually, I will need to skip next week,” Lan Zhan says slowly. “I apologize. It’s just that—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” Wei Ying snorts with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure there’ll be weeks I need to skip, too.” He smiles. “Talk to you in two weeks?”

“Two weeks,” Lan Zhan agrees, and then his face disappears from Wei Ying’s screen.

*****

These two weeks have been the longest of Wei Ying’s life.

And apparently, his feelings are contagious.

“These two weeks have been the longest of my life ,” Jiang Cheng groans. “Shut up about Lan Zhan for two seconds, please, I am actually begging here.”

Wei Ying sticks out his tongue. “Don’t be dramatic. I barely mention him to you.”

“You just did.”

“All I said was we need to hurry and hang this mirror up before I call him,” Wei Ying retorts.

Jiang Cheng sighs. “Okay, okay, grab the other end,” he says, to which Wei Ying takes the right side of the mirror in his hands and hoists it up. 

Yesterday, Wei Ying had gotten (a little) drunk and Jiang Cheng had gotten (a little more) drunk, and it had led to them playing soccer in Wei Ying’s too-small room, which had escalated to them knocking over everything in their paths. Wei Ying’s mirror had been no exception, and it took the sound of glass shattering to snap the two men from their drunken haze. To which Jiang Cheng had said, “Wei Ying, you’re going to, like, have seven years of bad luck now.”

So today, Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying had gone out and bought a new mirror.

“Let’s hang it up on the back wall,” says Wei Ying. “Change of scenery, you know?”

“You’re so weird,” Jiang Cheng replies, but shuffles towards the back wall, mirror in hand. 

Wei Ying slowly sets his side of the mirror on the floor so that he can place screws in the wall. Once he’s finished, he lifts the mirror up again and him and Jiang Cheng slide it into place. “Aha! Thank you, my dear brother.”

Jiang Cheng cracks his back. “Let’s make sure this never happens again. It was a pain cleaning up all the glass.”

Wei Ying throws up a three-fingered salute. “Never again!” he laughs. “Now get out. I need to call Lan Zhan in a few minutes.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes and walks out of Wei Ying’s room, closing the door behind him.

Right on time, LAN ZHAN is calling… pops up on Wei Ying’s computer, and he wastes no time in accepting the call.

“Lan Zhan! Hi!”

“Hello, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, as handsome as ever.

Wei Ying smiles. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well. And you?”

“Just dandy!” Wei Ying props his chin on his hand. “Any updates?”

“I worked on the guqin design,” says Lan Zhan. “I can show it to you.”

Wei Ying nods excitedly, eyes wide. “Please do.”

He watches as Lan Zhan reaches off screen and grabs an object, which he places on his lap. Lan Zhan is about to hold it up when a small white bunny jumps onto him and climbs up on his shoulder. 

Lan Zhan’s social media page immediately flashes through Wei Ying’s mind. He blinks and can’t help the smile that crawls across his face at the sight of this familiar furball. “Oh! The bunny!”

Lan Zhan freezes for a second, then tilts his head in question. “The bunny?”

Oh fuck.

Wei Ying laughs, loud and nervous. Lan Zhan’s expression morphs to one of perplexion, and that just makes Wei Ying laugh louder, more nervously. “Uh… You see, Lan Zhan, I accidentally came across your social media. Funny, right? Complete coincidence.”

Lan Zhan looks like he doesn’t believe him. 

“And I know what you’re thinking. How do you come across someone’s social media by accident? Well, sometimes it suggests names to you, and as if by fate, yours was suggested, and I was like huh, that can’t be my Lan Zhan, can it? And—”

Wei Ying abruptly stops at the realization that he’d said my Lan Zhan.

Oh shit.

Wei Ying doesn’t notice the hint of pink coloring the tip of Lan Zhan’s ears. He’s too busy trying to prevent himself from self-destructing. “Haha! Funny story, actually, Lan—”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” Lan Zhan interrupts. “It’s there for anyone to look at.”

Wei Ying lets out a relieved laugh. “Oh. Okay. Cool. Really cool. I’ll follow you then! And you can follow me back, too. I don’t mind.”

“Mn.” 

Wei Ying then watches in amusement as Lan Zhan tries to coerce the bunny off his shoulder, which looks like it doesn’t want to move at all. Wei Ying can’t blame it, honestly. The whole sight is completely endearing and Wei Ying almost laughs when he hears Lan Zhan whisper softly, “Apple, I need to work.”

In response, the bunny nibbles at Lan Zhan’s ear, which causes him to jerk and bang his knee against his desk. Wei Ying hears something fall. “What was that?”

“Just my mouse,” Lan Zhan says, gently pushing the bunny away from his ear.

The bunny clearly isn’t happy about this and starts nibbling at Lan Zhan’s hair instead, and this time Wei Ying does laugh, loud and carefree. Lan Zhan ducks his head, red nipping at his cheeks, which only makes Wei Ying laugh harder. Embarrassment is such a cute look on him.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Lan Zhan says. He grabs the bunny off his shoulder, then stands and walks over to his bed to place it down. When he walks back to his chair, he bends down to grab his fallen mouse.

Wei Ying’s gaze darts to the area of skin that shows when Lan Zhan reaches down, shirt riding up slightly to uncover Lan Zhan’s waistline. He finds that he doesn’t exactly have the willpower to look away, and it’d be a lot easier if Lan Zhan would just hurry up and pull his shirt back down, and— Wait.

Lan Zhan isn’t moving at all. 

Wei Ying blinks, confused, and his gaze travels back up to Lan Zhan’s face. He can still hear Lan Zhan talking but his mouth is still. Wei Ying’s throat goes dry.

Lan Zhan’s end of the call had frozen.

At the perfect time.

Wei Ying could still see Lan Zhan’s midriff.

Thank you, God , he thinks, letting out small mhms and yeahs as Lan Zhan starts talking about his guqin design, eyes completely focused on the abs peeking out at him. He wonders if Lan Zhan will be able to tell that Wei Ying’s attention is no longer on his face, but Lan Zhan hasn’t said anything yet, so he decides not to fret over it. 

“These colors work well together,” comes Lan Zhan’s voice. “What are your thoughts?”

Wei Ying swallows, suddenly wishing that Lan Zhan’s side of the call would move for a second so he can see what Lan Zhan’s talking about. And either luck isn’t on his side anymore or it still is, and decides that Lan Zhan’s bare skin is more important than Lan Zhan’s whatever-he’s-holding-up, because Wei Ying’s wish doesn’t come true. He’s left to think fast.

“Yeah, that looks great, Lan Zhan.” 

Nailed it.

“What are your thoughts on the design?”

Shit.

“Um. Really nice.”

“Do the colors work well here? The blue and the—” Lan Zhan’s voice cuts out for a split second. Wei Ying almost throws his computer against the wall. “Are they complementary?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Wei Ying clears his throat. Think, think! He said complementary . “The blue and the…orange.”

The room goes quiet.

“Blue and white.”

“Right. Yes. Blue and white. Sorry, I couldn’t tell,” Wei Ying shrugs, and then he’s praying, praying so hard that Lan Zhan won’t ask anymore questions, and—

“It appears orange?”

“I, uh,” Wei Ying stutters, turning his face from the screen. “I have a bad connection today. The video is kind of blurry on my end so I couldn’t exactly make out the colors. Sorry.” 

“Mm.” Wei Ying hears a shuffle on Lan Zhan’s end. “Then perhaps we should stop for today.”

“Sounds good,” Wei Ying says with a surge of relief. “My quick update is that I think we’re going to have to connect switches of some kind to the guqin strings that can translate their movement to some noise-making software, but I’m still working on figuring out how that would look. I’ll let you know if I have any breakthroughs.”

“Mn. Then, I will head off now.”

Wei Ying nods, still facing away.

“Wei Ying.” 

Wei Ying slowly turns back to the screen. The image of Lan Zhan’s midriff is still engraved onto it. Just like it will forever be engraved in his mind. “Yeah, Lan Zhan?”

A beat of silence, and then, “If your video should ever freeze again, I do not mind disconnecting and giving you a call back.”

The call ends.

Wei Ying sits there with an open mouth, face burning up, and he’s pretty sure it causes global temperatures to increase somewhere in the world (what with the Butterfly Effect and all), because Lan Zhan knows , and has known this entire time.

Then, he focuses on the reflection from his black computer screen. He sees the new mirror he bought hanging right behind him, reflecting his entire setup.

Seven years of bad luck be damned, Wei Ying is sure, absolutely positive, that he is smashing that mirror tonight. 

*****

Wei Ying is, to everyone’s surprise, dreading his next call with Lan Zhan.

The sheer embarrassment of being caught looking at Lan Zhan’s great abs — and god were they great — had sent him into a spiraling week of regret, shame, wanting to punch himself in the face, more regret, and then wanting to punch Jin Zixuan in the face for breathing next to his sister (because Wei Ying always wants to, but the urge was intensified this week).

But Wei Ying does not punch himself in the face, and only almost punches Jin Zixuan.

He does, however, take down the mirror from his wall, leave it outside their doorstep to be taken by whoever collects their trash, and declare to Jiang Cheng that, “I don’t have a mirror anymore, so let me know if I look bad or something, alright?”

To which Jiang Cheng had answered, “Fuck off.”

And now, on this dreadful excuse for an evening, Wei Ying sits in front of his computer and awaits the call that signals his death.

He thinks he lets out an inhuman noise when LAN ZHAN is calling… appears on his screen. He’s honestly not too sure.

When Lan Zhan’s face pops up, Wei Ying puts on an award-winning smile. “Lan Zhan!”

He winces at how kind of loud that was.

“Hello, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says. “I hope you’ve been well.”

Wei Ying laughs, and fuck, still too loud. “Me? Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been, like, great. Super awesome. You know? I mean, you must know what it feels like to be super awesome. Not in the ‘Oh god you’re great’ way but in the ‘I feel so great!’ way. You know? Not that you aren’t great, I just wasn’t referring to that particular interpretation. You know?”

Silence.

“I suppose,” Lan Zhan finally says.

You idiot. You absolute moron, is what Wei Ying hears.

And while Wei Ying mentally prepares himself to enter a boxing ring with all the little internal Wei Yings that have allowed this to happen, he notices Lan Zhan staring intently… at him?

No… 

At something behind him?

Wei Ying blinks out of his embarrassment-induced haze and slowly turns around, but only sees an empty wall. Wei Ying turns back to the screen. “Uh. Something wrong?”

“No,” Lan Zhan says, and before Wei Ying can question him further, he continues, “Would you like to update each other on our progress?”

“Oh! Yeah, definitely,” Wei Ying says, because if anything good had come out of his fading will to live in the past week, it’s that he was able to focus a lot more on their project. “So, the switches. I’m thinking we can clip one to each string, so that when you pluck it, it’ll flip the switch.”

“How will that translate to certain noises?”

“We’ll probably end up connecting everything to a device that we can plug into a computer. I’m sure there’s software out there we can mess with that’ll let us choose which noises we want to play based on which switches were triggered.” A pause, and then, “...I think.”

“I trust that you will figure it out,” Lan Zhan says.

You colossal idiot. You absolute fucking moron, is what Wei Ying hears.

“What about you, Lan Zhan?”

“I worked more on the guqin design,” Lan Zhan says. Then he looks at Wei Ying and asks, “Would you like to see it?”

Wei Ying swears he sees a flash of amusement in Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“Sure,” is all Wei Ying says, because he’s sure his voice would crack if he said more.

Lan Zhan reaches to his side, grabs the guqin, and holds it up for Wei Ying to see. It’s colored a light blue, small wisps of white decorating its exterior like clouds in the sky, and Wei Ying feels his breath rush out of him at the detailing. “Lan Zhan!”

“I have yet to connect the strings,” says Lan Zhan. “I was waiting to see if there was anything about the design you would want to change.”

“Why would I want to change perfection ?” Wei Ying breathes, throwing his arms up into the air. “It looks great! Lan Zhan, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“I could say the same about you.” Lan Zhan sets the guqin down somewhere off-screen. “I would imagine the research you’re doing isn’t easy. I’m sorry I can’t be of much help.”

“Oh, come on,” Wei Ying snorts. “It’s really not that bad. And that’s why we’re partners, right? I’ll do what you can’t and you’ll do what I can’t. We’re like two sides of the same coin. Or, well, maybe that’s not the right analogy.” Wei Ying cups his chin in thought. “Two pieces of a puzzle? Two peas in a pod?”

“Mm. I believe those all mean the same thing.”

“Aiya, what a party pooper you are,” Wei Ying jokes.

The two then discuss their game plan for the next week and come to the decision that Lan Zhan will finish up the design while Wei Ying continues researching the switch concept. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Lan Zhan eventually says. “Goodb—”

“Wait!” Wei Ying blurts. Lan Zhan freezes at his outburst. “Why don’t we stay on the call and work a little more? That way, if we have any questions for each other or think of new ideas, we can talk about it right away.”

Lan Zhan tilts his head in thought.

“It would be easier, you know?” And I don’t want to hang up yet. “What do you think?”

“It would not hurt,” Lan Zhan says after a brief pause. 

“Great! Let’s get to work, then.”

And Lan Zhan definitely does, but Wei Ying has other plans, which may or may not consist of being distracted by Lan Zhan’s handsome face on his screen. 

Wei Ying tries to suppress his urge to talk.

He doesn’t last long.

“Hey, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan’s brow twitches. He lets out a low sigh. “ Wei Ying. ”

“I know, I know, we need to focus on our work, but listen.” Wei Ying waits until he has Lan Zhan’s eyes on him. “It’s good to take breaks every now and then to increase your productivity.”

“We have been working for five minutes.”

“Great, so you agree!” Wei Ying laughs when Lan Zhan closes his eyes, another sigh puffing from his lips. “Let’s get to know each other a little more.”

Lan Zhan seems to realize that Wei Ying is not going to let this drop until he gets what he wants. He places his pen down and asks, “What would you like to know?”

“Let’s start with something small,” Wei Ying muses. “Like, what’s your dream in life?”

Lan Zhan blinks. “That is your definition of small? What do you consider big?”

Wei Ying winks. “That’s a secret.”

Lan Zhan hums. For a second, Wei Ying thinks he’s not going to answer, but then Lan Zhan says, “To become a professor of music at Fudan.”

“Wow, that’s a big dream,” Wei Ying whistles. “Isn’t that tough? Getting into academia and all?”

“Not necessarily.” Lan Zhan looks off to the side. “My uncle is the director of our music program. And my brother, who graduated two years ago, has already secured himself a position in our department.”

Wei Ying’s jaw drops. “Your uncle is the director ? And your brother has a position in the department? ”

Lan Zhan frowns. “Yes. That’s what I just said.”

“Wow. Well you’re definitely going to make it, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying leans closer to his camera, suddenly engrossed in learning about the man on the other side. “Do you have other dreams?”

“No,” Lan Zhan says, but Wei Ying notices that it takes him just a second longer to answer, and Wei Ying sees an emotion flash across Lan Zhan’s eyes that he can’t put a name to.

Wei Ying decides not to press it. “Well, that’s okay! One is more than enough. Would you like to know mine?” Lan Zhan nods. “My dream is to travel the world. I want to go everywhere, learn everything, meet everyone. That kind of thing, you know?”

Wei Ying doesn’t know how he’s expecting Lan Zhan to react to that, but it certainly isn’t with a sharp intake of breath.

Wei Ying blinks. “Lan Zhan?”

“Why?” Lan Zhan asks, sounding like the wind had been knocked out of him. “What do you hope to achieve by traveling the world?”

“Oh. Good question.” Wei Ying purses his lips in thought. “I don’t know if I have a specific goal in mind. I just know that I want to experience all that I can.” He smiles. “And that I’d like to help people in some way, and I think traveling will give me an idea of how to do that. I know it probably looks irresponsible, but I’d rather do that and not like it than never try and wish I had.”

When Lan Zhan says nothing in response, Wei Ying continues, a little bashfully, “I want to live my life with no regrets.”

“...I understand,” Lan Zhan finally responds, voice soft.

Wei Ying smiles. “Yeah? Well that’s good. Usually when I bring it up to people, they think it’s silly, but—”

“It’s not silly.” Lan Zhan speaks louder now. “You should never think that.”

Wei Ying’s not sure what it is, but something in Lan Zhan’s tone makes his heart thud in his chest. He feels like he’s not just being heard, but being seen, too . “Thank you, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Ying continues his little game of twenty questions after that, asking Lan Zhan what his favorite color is, his favorite class, his favorite type of music. Even though Lan Zhan is answering all of his questions, though, there’s something missing.

Wei Ying pouts. Lan Zhan doesn’t seem as invested anymore. He almost looks sad.

This is unacceptable.

Then an idea comes to Wei Ying’s mind. 

“How are your bunnies doing?”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen a fraction and light up in a subtle, charming way.

Bingo.

“They are doing well,” Lan Zhan answers, and he’s sitting just a little bit straighter, talking with a little bit more enthusiasm. “Thank you for asking.” 

Wei Ying grins. “How many do you have?”

“Two. A white and black one.”

“And their names?”

Lan Zhan hesitates for a second. “Fairy and Apple.”

Wei Ying bites his tongue and has to try really, really hard not to laugh. “You know, Lan Zhan, I heard you say Apple the other day but didn’t want to believe that your naming sense was that… unique.” Wei Ying leans forward. “I should tell you, Lan Zhan, I absolutely love bunnies!”

Lan Zhan’s lips pop open a tiny bit. His eyes shimmer with interest. “You do?”

“Oh yeah,” Wei Ying nods, and with how happy Lan Zhan looks right now, he almost feels bad when he continues, “I love to eat them.”

Lan Zhan’s face immediately falls.

His brows pinch together in distress.

Wei Ying absolutely loses it.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan practically wheezes as Wei Ying throws his head back and laughs , laughs so hard tears start streaming from his eyes. 

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying splutters from between his amused shrieks. He wraps his arms around his stomach as his laughter intensifies. “The look on your face! Oh my god, Lan Zhan!”

“Wei Ying,” he hears Lan Zhan say again, but it’s quieter this time, less exasperated. 

Wei Ying laughs for another three minutes.

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Wei Ying will say, but the second he looks back at Lan Zhan, he’ll just burst into laughter again. And it happens again. And again. And each time, Lan Zhan will say nothing, at most letting a soft sigh escape his parted lips.

Finally, after Wei Ying clears all the giggles from his system, he clears his throat and wipes his eyes. “Now I’m done. I promise.”

Lan Zhan says nothing. When Wei Ying looks at him, he sees a brush of pink coloring the tips of his ears. That, and Lan Zhan is completely still in his chair.

Oh god, did he freeze again? Wei Ying worries for a brief second. I don’t trust myself around a frozen image of Lan Zhan.

Then Wei Ying notices a small scurrying of rabbit feet in the background, so the frozen theory goes out the window, and huh, it must be that Lan Zhan is staring… behind him?

No…

At him?

Wei Ying suddenly worries that maybe he drooled all over himself during his three-minute giggle fest. He brings a hand up to prod around his mouth and chin. “Is there something on my face?” 

Lan Zhan immediately blinks out of whatever trance he was in. “No,” he says quickly.

“Oh.” Wei Ying grins. “Then, am I just that handsome, Lan Zhan? Or were you perhaps enamored by the angelic melody of my laughter?”

And Wei Ying says it as a complete joke, as a ‘Hey, let me mess with Lan Zhan a little just because I can!’ joke, as a ‘It’ll be so cute if I can get him to blush!’ joke.

So he completely does not expect it when Lan Zhan, after a moment’s hesitation, says, “I would not disagree with either of those statements.”

Wei Ying is sure he blacks out for, like, half a second.

“O-Oh.” Wei Ying clears his throat. “Well.”

Silence.

“I need to leave now,” Lan Zhan suddenly says. “Goodbye, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying blinks. “Oh, ah, goodb—”

Lan Zhan hangs up before he can finish.

Wei Ying proceeds to walk over to his bed, bury his face in his pillow, and scream.

*****

Over the next month, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan continue to meet weekly.

Over the next month, they talk more about things unrelated to their project.

Over the next month, Wei Ying’s crush grows exponentially.

At this point in time, Lan Zhan has finished designing the guqin for their project, and Wei Ying has found a software to tinker with that’ll allow him to assign different noises to different switch triggers. He’s also started designing the device that will connect the seven switches on the guqin strings to a computer.

“I’ll make a list of the noises we’ll need for the song,” says Lan Zhan during one of their calls. 

“That’s a good idea,” says Wei Ying. “Then I can play around with loading them onto the software.”

“Will it be difficult?

“Nah.” Wei Ying leans back in his chair. “We need to make sure we’re not going to use too many noises, though. If you’re planning on playing a fast song and want birds chirping everywhere, it’ll all muddle together and sound kind of ugly.”

“Mm, I agree.” Lan Zhan grabs a pen and begins writing something down. “Moderation is key. Fortunately, the song I plan on using is slow.”

“Oh?” Wei Ying grins excitedly. “So you know which song you want to play?”

“Mn. It’s an old song I learned.” Lan Zhan looks up from his paper. “I’ll begin the list, then.”

“Sounds good! And I’ll start designing some switches.”

The two get to work.

Wei Ying lasts a whopping ten minutes before he gets distracted by Lan Zhan.

Specifically, Wei Ying cannot help but gaze softly at the other man, his brows slightly furrowed in focus, mouth quietly murmuring musical notes to himself as he writes down the sounds they’ll need to work with. Lan Zhan plays a song on his guqin as he works, note by note, and Wei Ying can already tell it’s beautiful.

Inspiration hits.

Wei Ying grabs an empty sheet of paper and a pencil. 

He slowly begins to sketch Lan Zhan, from the drape of his hair to his long eyelashes to the subtle downward curve of his lips. He quickly gets lost in the task, and a comfortable silence blankets over them as they work. 

“Wei Ying. Let’s take a break.”

Wei Ying stops shading a segment of Lan Zhan’s hair and looks up, tilting his head in question. “A break?”

“Mn. It’s good to take some. It increases productivity.”

Wei Ying barks out a laugh. “Is that so? Well, Lan Zhan, don’t let me stop you.” Wei Ying puts down his pencil and stuffs his drawing into a black folder filled with sketches for their project. “What would you like to do?”

Lan Zhan sets down his guqin. “We can ask each other questions.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, are you that interested in me?” Wei Ying teases, holding back a laugh at the other’s subtle flush. “Go on then.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Mm.” Wei Ying considers this. “Most would say that my taste is akin to eating the toe of Satan.”

“...What?” Lan Zhan asks, looking deeply disturbed by the metaphor.

“You know. Spicy stuff.” Wei Ying laughs. “I love spicy food.”

Wei Ying swears he hears Lan Zhan breathe a “Why?” but when he looks at his face, Lan Zhan is expressionless.

“Alright, my turn.” Wei Ying taps his desk in thought. “Oh! What are you scared of?”

A long, quiet moment passes before Lan Zhan says, “I’m not sure.”

“There has to be something,” Wei Ying says with a click of his tongue. “Spiders? Snakes? Heights?” When Lan Zhan shakes his head at each of those, Wei Ying continues, “Seriously? Dogs? Public speaking?”

“I’ve never tried public speaking,” Lan Zhan says. “But I frequently perform in front of large audiences, so I don’t think it would bother me.”

Wait.

Pause.

“You what? ” 

Lan Zhan stares at Wei Ying, confused. “Wei Ying?”

Wei Ying is still processing what he heard. “You perform in front of large audiences? Since when? Lan Zhan, why haven’t you told me this before?”

Lan Zhan hesitates. “It never came up.”

“Okay, well, it has now. So spill.” Wei Ying snaps his fingers. “Explain.”

Lan Zhan does, telling Wei Ying all about how he’s some pretty famous (Wei Ying’s words, which Lan Zhan firmly disagreed with) guqin player who often takes to stages and showcases his music. The few times that Lan Zhan has had to miss one of their weekly calls, it’s because he’d had a scheduled practice or performance to attend.

Wei Ying is floored by this new information. 

“So, the performance we need to give for our project,” says Wei Ying, brows raised, “is going to be a complete walk in the park for you. This is, like, nothing to you.”

Lan Zhan frowns. “It’s not nothing.”

“Lan Zhan. It’s okay, really, I won’t get offended if you—

“It’s not nothing,” Lan Zhan repeats. “I truly enjoy what we’re doing.”

Wei Ying can only smile at that.

They ask each other questions for the next half who-knows-how-long, and Wei Ying enjoys the small anecdotes that come up as they do. Wei Ying doesn't even realize how much time has passed until Lan Zhan, ever the responsible one, points out the time: 8:30pm.

“I’m sorry. I’ve distracted us both today,” Lan Zhan says, not sounding the least bit sorry.

“Lan Zhan, it’s fine. I’m sure we’re way ahead of where we’re supposed to be right now, because we’re so on top of it. We’re doing a great job!” Wei Ying smiles. “In fact, I think we need to celebrate how awesome we are. We haven’t done that yet.”

Lan Zhan’s brows pinch in confusion. “Celebrate? How do you—”

“High five, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying cheers, placing his hand on his computer screen. “Come on!”

Lan Zhan blinks. “We cannot high five through a computer.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Wei Ying says with a click of his tongue. “Come on, put your hand on the screen. Who knows?” He winks. “Maybe something magical will happen.” 

Lan Zhan stares at Wei Ying in silence, and Wei Ying notices a dust of red nip at his neck. His heart flutters at the sight. Then, Lan Zhan ducks his head and closes his eyes. “Silly,” he mumbles, but Wei Ying watches as Lan Zhan slowly raises his hand and places it on his screen.

Wei Ying beams.

Lan Zhan keeps his hand on his screen until Wei Ying says, “Well, don’t let me distract you from your work anymore than I already have. I’ll hang up just to give you some peace and quiet, but give me a call if you have any questions, alright?”

“I will,” Lan Zhan says, pulling his hand back. “Thank you, Wei Ying.”

“No need for thanks,” Wei Ying scolds lightheartedly. “Bye, Lan Zhan!”

Wei Ying hangs up.

Only twenty seconds later, LAN ZHAN is calling… flashes across his screen.

Confused, Wei Ying answers. “Lan Zhan?”

“Wei Ying. I have a question.” 

“Oh?” Wei Ying cocks his head. “Okay, shoot.”

Lan Zhan says nothing for a few seconds, and then: “What’s your favorite season?”

And Wei Ying laughs.

*****

“Lan Zhan! It’s the three month anniversary of our partnership.”

“Mn. It is.”

Wei Ying wags his eyebrows. “I think we should celebrate.”

Lan Zhan, ever so kind, decides to humor him. “How would you like to celebrate?”

“Can you play a song for me?”

Lan Zhan seems thrown off by the question. Wei Ying cherishes these rare moments. “A song?”

“Yeah, the one for our project.” Wei Ying pouts. “It’s kind of sad that I haven’t heard it yet. How could you be so cruel, Lan Zhan?”

“I apologize,” Lan Zhan says, not sounding the least bit sorry. He grabs his guqin. “I can play it for you now, if you’d like.”

Wei Ying beams. “Yes, please. What’s it called?”

“Inquiry,” Lan Zhan answers, and then he begins to play.

In these next few minutes, Wei Ying doesn’t know what to focus on. His eyes dart between Lan Zhan’s expression, calm and still, and his fingers, floating effortlessly over the strings. Though Wei Ying is hearing the song through a dusty speaker, the music is still mesmerizing. As notes of longing fill the space around him, Wei Ying is rendered into a state of calm that he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

All too soon, the song comes to an end.

Wei Ying is breathless. “That was amazing, Lan Zhan. You were born to play music.”

Lan Zhan’s gaze softens. “Thank you. I enjoy it.”

And looking at that happy expression, Wei Ying suddenly gets an idea.

“I have something else that you might enjoy.” Wei Ying runs to his closet and digs out a box. “You see, Lan Zhan, I’m a bit of a musical genius myself.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes shimmer with interest. “You play an instrument?”

“You bet!” Wei Ying pulls a black flute from the box. 

Lan Zhan leans forward, as if that’ll help him see the flute better. Wei Ying ignores the Cute! Cute! Cute! flashing through his head. “Can you play something?”

Wei Ying blinks. He doesn’t expect Lan Zhan to ask that. “Um…no.”

A frown tugs at Lan Zhan’s mouth. “Why not?”

Wei Ying grins sheepishly. “Uh, mostly because I was lying about the musical genius part. I can play a little but it’ll make your ears bleed more than it’ll make you cry. Or actually, I take that back. It will make you cry, but not for a good reason.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan sits straighter in his chair. “No one can play music badly if it comes from the heart. I cannot judge the way someone chooses to express themselves.”

Wei Ying’s breath catches in his throat and he quickly ducks his head when he feels a familiar heat crawl across his face. “Uh,” he begins with a clearing of his throat, “I can’t really say no then, can I? Haha.”

Damn you, Lan Zhan, his mind screams. For once, let me tease you without consequence!

Wei Ying brings the flute to his mouth, takes a deep breath, and begins playing a song he’d taught himself years and years ago. It’s nothing special, just something he’d heard on a TV show once, but it had made him cry and had reminded him of the good and not-so-great times in his life. 

Wei Ying lets muscle memory kick in as he carries through the song, trying to ignore the notes he messes up and instead relish in his long forgotten memories. He draws out the last note of the song, letting it fade away, then slowly pulls the flute from his mouth. He cracks an eye open, which he’d consciously closed to avoid Lan Zhan’s sure-to-be horrified expressions. 

Except Lan Zhan doesn’t look horrified. His lips are parted, he’s frozen in his chair, and his gaze is so intense and shining with awe that Wei Ying can only stare back.

“Did I kill you?” Wei Ying jokes nervously when Lan Zhan remains silent. 

“That was beautiful,” Lan Zhan says, almost breathlessly, and then with a hint of a frown, “Why do you think you can’t play well?”

“Because I know I can’t. You’re just being nice, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying snorts, but he swallows nervously after he says that, because the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes says otherwise.

“I don’t lie,” Lan Zhan says. “And I have no reason to lie to you, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying sets his flute down with a sigh. “You can’t sit there and tell me it was perfect. We both know I made mistakes.”

“I did not say it was perfect. I know it wasn’t,” Lan Zhan replies, and Wei Ying is about to retort with a See! I told you! when Lan Zhan continues, “But it was Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying feels his mouth dry. “Lan Zhan—”

“It was you. It was how you chose to express yourself through your music,” Lan Zhan says. “That’s how it should always be.”

“I—” Wei Ying turns his head in embarrassment. “I was just playing a song.”

“Wei Ying, I have heard many play music for the sake of just playing a song,” Lan Zhan argues. “And I did not feel that with you.”

Wei Ying doesn’t respond, instead willing his heart rate to go down.

“It was Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan repeats. “So it was beautiful.”

And if Wei Ying screams into his pillow that night?

Who can blame him.

*****

Wei Ying’s life flips upside down on a seemingly innocent Saturday afternoon during a seemingly innocent trip to the grocery store. 

It flips upside down when he walks past the pet aisle, his gaze brushing past the face of a man picking up a bag of rabbit treats.

Wei Ying does a double take.

He knows that face.

He has dreams about that face.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying brings his cart to an abrupt stop and waves his arms excitedly. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan’s shoulders visibly tense. He turns his head and drops the bag of rabbit treats he’s holding, eyes widening. “Wei Ying?”

Wei Ying beams. “Lan Zhan!” he calls again, pushing his cart towards Lan Zhan at an inhuman speed. “What a surprise!”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says again, breathier this time.

“In the flesh!” Wei Ying comes to a stop in front of Lan Zhan. “What a coincidence, huh? Finally meeting in person, and at a grocery store of all places.” He winks. “Must be fate.”

“I— You live in this area?” 

“Yeah, I’m not stuck in a dorm this year so I’m, like, ten minutes away.” Wei Ying places his hands on his hips. “Do you live in this area?”

Lan Zhan nods slowly. “I did not know we were so close to each other.”

“Like I said. It’s fate.” Wei Ying beams at Lan Zhan, and within his chest, his heart is about to explode into a tiny million pieces. Because Lan Zhan is here , in front of him, and he’s even more handsome in person, and Wei Ying really does have the biggest crush. “Lan Zhan, you wouldn’t mind if I shopped around with you, right?”

“Shopped around?”

“Mhm. Truthfully, I just want to jump at the chance to talk more with my wonderful partner.” Wei Ying bends down and grabs the rabbit treats Lan Zhan had dropped. He holds it out to him. 

Lan Zhan takes the bag from him. “We can shop around.” A pause. “Together.”

“Great!” Wei Ying takes the rabbit treats back from Lan Zhan and throws it into his cart. He grabs the handle, purposely ignoring his look of confusion. “Let’s go.”

Wei Ying doesn’t exactly know what Lan Zhan is here to buy, and Lan Zhan doesn’t direct him towards any specific aisles, so Wei Ying decides to wing this impromptu joint shopping trip. 

Wei Ying throws a pack of gummies into the cart. “Oh, these are good. You should get some.”

Wei Ying places a can of soda into the cart. “This is my favorite kind. You should try it.”

Wei Ying tosses another ten items into the cart, following them all with a single-sentence pitch, and Lan Zhan lets him do it each time.

“What’s your favorite junk food, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks as he strolls down an aisle.

“I don’t eat junk food.”

“What?” Wei Ying looks at him and frowns. “That’s kind of sad.”

Lan Zhan cocks his head. “It is?” 

“I mean, if you’re fine with it, then I guess not. I could never be that healthy, though. I thrive on sugar.” Wei Ying sighs. “I should try and eat better, since it’s good for your body...” 

And with Lan Zhan now standing so close to him, Wei Ying can finally get a good look at what’s remained mostly hidden from him from behind a screen. And oh , what a body…

Wei Ying clears his throat and gives a little shake of his head. 

Not today, Satan.

Wei Ying passes by a stand filled with bags of watermelon candies. He picks one up in glee. “Ah, I used to eat these all the time! I thought they’d stopped making them.” He unconsciously smiles at memories of him, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli sharing bags together. “What a good memory.”

Wei Ying glances at the cart, now full with way more items than he can afford, and wordlessly places the candies back.

He doesn’t notice Lan Zhan grabbing a bag and hiding it behind the can of soda.

As they continue down the aisles, Wei Ying turns to Lan Zhan with a smile. “I still can’t believe we bumped into each other!”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying hums and looks forward. “Look at us, shopping together. It’s like we’re a couple.”

It takes Wei Ying ten seconds to realize he no longer hears Lan Zhan’s footsteps at his side.

He blinks in confusion and turns.

Lan Zhan’s head is deep inside a freezer.

“...Lan Zhan? What are you doing?”

Lan Zhan immediately starts poking at a pack of chicken. “Inspecting the meat.”

Wei Ying is completely lost. “Oh. Is… Is it good?”

“Yes.”

“Okay…”

Wei Ying stares at Lan Zhan until he slowly lifts his head from inside the freezer. Lan Zhan takes his place beside Wei Ying again. “We should check out,” he says, voice cracking.

Weird.

When they reach the registers, Wei Ying looks inside the cart and realizes that, with the exception of the rabbit treats, everything in there belongs to him. His wallet suddenly feels like rocks in his pocket. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying chokes out. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

Lan Zhan looks down at the cart, then up at Wei Ying. “Was I supposed to?”

“Yes! Look at all of this!” Wei Ying clicks his tongue and waves his finger at Lan Zhan. “Aiya, Lan Zhan, you’re definitely going to be the kind of father that buys their kids whatever they ask for. You need to learn to be more strict, to tell people ‘no’!”

Lan Zhan blinks in confusion. “You’re an adult, you can make your own—”

“Here, help me put all of this onto the conveyor belt,” Wei Ying says. 

Lan Zhan nods in agreement and starts unloading the items. He also takes out his phone to pay for everything, much to Wei Ying’s displeasure. He also helps bag up all the items, despite Wei Ying’s protests. He also offers to carry Wei Ying’s bags, to which Wei Ying says, “Lan Zhan, I swear, I’ll return everything right here and now.”

So Lan Zhan lets him carry his own bags.

As they exit the grocery store, a small wave of sadness washes over Wei Ying as he turns to bid Lan Zhan farewell. That is, until he hears, “Would you like to get lunch?”

Just like that, a grin erupts across Wei Ying’s face. “Lan Zhan, am I hearing this right? You want to take me out for lunch?”

“If you want. You do not have to say yes.”

“Aiya, what a decision you’ve left me with.” Wei Ying brings his hand to his chin and puckers his lips in thought, as if he’s actually conflicted over whether he should have lunch with his crush. Lan Zhan picks up on his teasing because Wei Ying doesn’t miss the small upwards twitch at the corner of his lips. “Well, I guess I have to say yes, don’t I?”

“You do not have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying claps a hand down on his shoulder. “I never do anything I don’t want to.” Then Wei Ying turns with a renewed excitement flaring through his bones. “Lead the way, then! I’m excited for this first date of ours.”

He doesn’t notice the way Lan Zhan trips over air.

Lan Zhan takes Wei Ying to a small restaurant at the end of the street. As soon as they’re seated, a pair of menus are brought over to them.

Wei Ying watches in awe as Lan Zhan proceeds to order a plethora of dishes off the menu, all of them having in their descriptions some form of the words ‘spicy’ or ‘hot’ or ‘deadly’ in it. He had no idea that Lan Zhan was as into spicy food as he was, and you know what? Wei Ying is a helpful man, so before the waiter leaves, he says, “Excuse me, sir. Just to top it all off, could you add some of your hottest sauce to each plate?”

He doesn’t notice the way Lan Zhan’s face pales.

“So, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying drums his fingers against the table. “I haven’t said this yet, but it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Lan Zhan cocks his head. “We’ve already—”

“Doesn’t count!” Wei Ying argues, already knowing what Lan Zhan’s going to say. 

Lan Zhan blinks, then exhales a soft laugh that has Wei Ying’s heart soaring. “It’s nice to meet you too, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying props his chin on his hand and smiles lazily at Lan Zhan. “You know, you’re much more handsome in person.”

His words have the intended effect. Lan Zhan splutters quietly. “Wei Ying…”

Wei Ying bites back a laugh. “And what about me?”

Lan Zhan ducks his head. “Wei Ying…”

Wei Ying laughs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I just wanted to tease you, Lan Zhan.” He holds up three fingers in a promise. “Since you’re buying me lunch, I promise to be nice to you. Thank you, by the way.”

Lan Zhan looks up. “You don’t need to thank me. You’re working hard on the project.”

Wei Ying pouts. “So are you!”

“Mn. But you’re doing a great job bringing it to life.”

“We both are,” Wei Ying argues, and then with a small hum, “You’re not that set on what we’re doing yet, are you?” When Lan Zhan widens his eyes almost guiltily, Wei Ying says, “It’s okay, neither am I.”

“Our idea is fine,” Lan Zhan says, slowly.

“But it isn’t perfect,” Wei Ying finishes. “Trust me, I know. I get that feeling too, but I think we’ll figure it out as we go. So let’s not worry about it, alright?” Wei Ying smiles. “In fact, I don’t want us talking about the project at all today! Let’s have a nice lunch as friends, not as groupmates.” 

Lan Zhan hums, the corner of his lips twitching again. “As friends.”

Wei Ying throws Lan Zhan a mischievous grin. “You must be really annoyed by me, right?”

Lan Zhan’s lips curve towards a frown. “I never said that.”

“Ah, but you’re thinking it.”

“I can assure you I’m not.”

“Oh?” Wei Ying leans forward. “Then what are you thinking?”

Lan Zhan takes a few seconds to answer. “I’m thinking about how you’re as energetic in person as you are online.” And before Wei Ying can come up with a response to that, he adds, “The food is here.”

With a variety of red-colored dishes spread out in front of them, Wei Ying doesn’t waste a second in digging in. He hums happily as he takes a bite of rice drenched in chili oil. “Oh, this is so good,” he moans. “Lan Zhan, you should try some!” 

“I’m fine,” says Lan Zhan. He sounds a little congested.

Wei Ying frowns. “What do you mean you’re fine? We’re both supposed to be eating.” Wei Ying shovels another bite of rice into his mouth. “You know, Lan Zhan, back where I’m from, no one would date you if you didn’t like spicy food. So if you want to expand your dating pool, you should really—”

Lan Zhan immediately grabs his chopsticks and shovels a spoonful of chili oil-drenched rice into his mouth. 

Wei Ying’s jaw drops in shock, and then he bursts into laughter. “Have I finally found someone to rival my love of spice? Here, Lan Zhan, have some more.” Wei Ying transfers some of his rice over to Lan Zhan’s plate. 

Lan Zhan starts shaking his head wildly. “No, Wei Ying, it’s—”

“Don’t be so considerate, Lan Zhan. You’re the one paying.” 

Lan Zhan is now tearing up a little? Interesting.

Wei Ying tilts his head in question. “Lan Zhan, are you okay? Do you want me to keep my own food that badly or are you touched that I’m sharing?”

“Keep your food,” Lan Zhan says, voice rough. “Please.”

Once Wei Ying finishes his food, he sets his chopsticks down with a satisfied sigh. “That was great, Lan Zhan. Thank you again.”

Lan Zhan’s voice is hoarse when he asks, “Do you want ice cream?”

“Ice cream?” Wei Ying laughs. “Lan Zhan, are you trying to turn this into a proper date?”

Lan Zhan stands up, and Wei Ying notices a thin layer of sweat across his forehead.

Well, I guess it is kind of hot in here.

Lan Zhan buys them ice cream from a street vendor outside, and then they find a nice bench to sit on. They eat in silence.

When the silence starts to ring in Wei Ying’s ears, though, he smacks his lips together and says, “Would you look at this? A future professor at Fudan buying me ice cream? I’ll put it on my resume.”

Wei Ying sees Lan Zhan hesitate with the next lick of his popsicle, but the movement is over so quickly that he can’t dwell on it. “Mn.”

Wei Ying smiles. “I can’t remember if I’ve told you this before, but it’s nice that you have your future all figured out. Super admirable.”

“Mn.”

“And it’s a great career, too! You’ll make your family proud.”

A soft exhale, and then, “Mn.”

Wei Ying’s bottom lip juts out in a small pout. Lan Zhan was giving him a lot more than this earlier. He decides that maybe his comments are too simplistic, that he needs to ask Lan Zhan an actual question, and so he continues, “What do your parents think?”

This time, Wei Ying is positive that Lan Zhan hesitates, if only for the fact that now he’s completely frozen. Wei Ying watches as Lan Zhan slowly pulls the popsicle away from his mouth and places it back in its bag. The atmosphere around them is suddenly heavy, and Wei Ying feels deep in his stomach that he’s asked a question he shouldn’t have.

“Lan Zhan?”

“...I don’t have parents.”

Wei Ying frowns. “What do you mean you don’t—” Then a wave of ice crawls down his back, and his stomach churns uncomfortably. “Oh.”

Lan Zhan remains quiet.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying swallows thickly. “I’m sorry.”

A small exhale, and then, “There’s no need to apologize. You didn’t know.”

“That’s true.” Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan. “But I don’t have parents, either, so I know how it feels to be reminded of that.”

Lan Zhan stiffens, then looks at him with glossy eyes. “Wei Ying…”

Wei Ying turns so his body is completely facing Lan Zhan. He holds out his arms, and Lan Zhan’s eyes widen in understanding. He doesn’t move away. Wei Ying takes that as a sign to go for it, and so he does, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying rests his chin on Lan Zhan’s shoulder and squeezes around his middle, just a little bit. Wei Ying smiles when he feels Lan Zhan slowly place his hands on his lower back. “I’m here if you ever want to talk, Lan Zhan.”

And then Wei Ying feels Lan Zhan squeeze him back, just a little. “Thank you. I’m here for you as well.”

Wei Ying smiles. “Hey, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying pulls back to look him in the eyes. “Since we don’t live far from each other, how about we start working on the project in-person?”

Lan Zhan pulls his head back too, but keeps his hands on Wei Ying’s back. “You’d want to do that?”

“Why not? Since we’re getting to all the assembly nonsense, wouldn’t it be easier to play around with it together? You can let me know if the device hinders your ability to play at all. I can troubleshoot in real time. It’ll be a lot more efficient, I think.”

“Mm.” Lan Zhan nods. “I agree.”

“Great! Then let’s exchange numbers so we can plan everything out easier,” Wei Ying suggests, and when Lan Zhan types his number into Wei Ying’s phone, Wei Ying may or may not add a little heart after his name.

That evening, when Wei Ying gets back to his apartment and unloads his groceries, he finds a bag of watermelon candies. With a small, enamored snort, he puts them away.

Wei Ying falls asleep with a smile on his face.

*****

When Wei Ying tells Jiang Cheng on a Friday afternoon that no, he cannot stay here and watch his favorite soap opera because yes, Lan Zhan is coming over, Jiang Cheng doesn’t take the news as well as Wei Ying would have hoped.

“This is my apartment too, and there’s no way in hell I’m missing the new episode because you’re trying to— to—” Jiang Cheng gives a full body shiver.

Wei Ying frowns. “To what? Work on my project?”

“To kiss him or something.”

“Jiang Cheng, I’m not going to kiss him ,” Wei Ying says, because it’s true, regardless of how much he wants to. “We’re going to work on our project. I just don’t want you here because it might distract us.”

Jiang Cheng drags a hand down his face. “And for how long do you intend to kick me out?”

“I don’t know,” Wei Ying shrugs. “An hour? Two? Three? Maybe four.”

“Fou— What could you possibly do with him for four hours?!” Jiang Cheng gets off the couch and grabs his jacket. “You know what? Never mind. I’m going over to Huaisang’s place and we can watch the new episode together. I’ll be back when I’m back.”

Wei Ying grins. “Love you!”

Jiang Cheng slams the front door shut.

As soon as he does, Wei Ying flops onto the couch and groans. He peeks at the clock — 5:25pm — and wonders if he can fit in five minute of sleep before Lan Zhan gets here. He’d, a little stupidly, invited Lan Zhan over to work on the project today, completely forgetting that he had a midterm at eight in the morning. 

Combining that abysmal time for a midterm with the fact that Wei Ying had stayed up until 4 am studying for it, Wei Ying is seconds away from falling into a deep slumber that he might not wake from for years.

Just five minutes, Wei Ying thinks, his eyes slipping closed. Just five —

A knock echoes throughout the apartment.

Wei Ying darts off the couch and runs to the door, swinging it open so forcefully that the hinges creak. A familiar set of golden eyes awaits him on the other side. “Lan Zhan!”

“Hello, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan gives him a small nod. “May I come inside?”

“Yes! Please do.” Wei Ying steps aside, closing the door behind Lan Zhan as soon as he walks in. He bounces on his heels as Lan Zhan takes off his shoes because oh my god, Lan Zhan is here, he’s actually in my apartment. “I hope this place wasn’t too hard to find.”

“Not at all,” Lan Zhan says, straightening up once his shoes are off. 

Wei Ying grins. “Welcome to my home,” he winks, extending an elbow in an effort to lean against the door. He completely misses and ends up stumbling instead.

Lan Zhan is, thankfully, nice enough to ignore it.

Wei Ying clears his throat. “Would you like some water? Tea? Beer?”

“I do not drink.”

Wei Ying furrows his brows. “...Anything? Then how are you ali—”

“Alcohol,” Lan Zhan clarifies. “I do not drink alcohol.”

“Oh. So… water?”

The expression on Lan Zhan’s face is suspiciously teasing. “I’m fine for now, but thank you.” He looks around. “You have a nice place.”

“Jiang Cheng and I live here. I’ve mentioned him to you, right?”

“Mn. Is he not here?”

“No, he had some errands to run. But he says hi!” Wei Ying leads Lan Zhan to the living room and plops them both down on the floor. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

Lan Zhan takes a small planner out of his pocket — Fuck he’s so cute — and opens it up. “You said you wanted to try assembling all the switches. Meanwhile, I have a list of the noises we’ll need, so I can find audio files of them online.”

“Great! Let’s go through that list of yours first,” Wei Ying suggests. Lan Zhan nods and holds a perfectly crisp piece of paper out to Wei Ying. “Ah, give me a second.”

Wei Ying reaches into the drawer of a table beside him and takes out a pair of reading glasses. He slides them into place, unaware of the choked sob that comes out of Lan Zhan’s mouth. 

“Alright, Lan Zhan! Let me see the—” Wei Ying turns back around to look at the outstretched paper and frowns. “—list? Why is it crumbled? It was fine a second ago.”

Lan Zhan says nothing, just shoves the paper into Wei Ying’s open hands.

Wei Ying scans over the list. The noises are pretty generic: birds, waves, wind, rain. Lan Zhan is going to have no trouble at all finding audio files for all of these, which is great. What isn’t great, though, is the small frown curving at Lan Zhan’s lips when Wei Ying mentions this to him.

Wei Ying gets it immediately. “You don’t seem too set on this.”

Lan Zhan gives a small shrug. “It’s a fine project. I don’t know if this is how I would choose to express my music, though.” Lan Zhan’s eyes capture his and he says, “You play music, too. What do you think?”

“That’s a strong statement,” Wei Ying laughs, but then he hums in thought. “I see what you’re saying. The whole thing seems kind of cheesy. But unless we think of anything better, this is what we have to work with.”

“Mn.”

“So let’s just do our best right now.” Wei Ying hands Lan Zhan the list back with a smile, which falters a little as he tries to hold in a yawn. “I’ll go get the switches I was thinking of using. I’ll show you what they look like and you can tell me how they’d fit on the guqin? Next time you should bring it over so we can test it out.”

Lan Zhan keeps his eyes trained on Wei Ying, as if studying him, and then with a small frown he asks, “Are you tired?”

Shit. 

Wei Ying snorts lightly. “Do I look tired?”

“You do.”

Damn, honest as always. “Ah, well, I had a midterm this morning but I’m all good now! Promise.” Wei Ying flashes Lan Zhan a thumbs up. “Refreshed, awake, and ready to work.”

Lan Zhan pinches his brows together with a sigh. “I can leave and come back another time. You should rest.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Wei Ying gets up and wags a finger at Lan Zhan. “I’m going to go and get everything I need to assemble, and you’re going to sit here until I come back.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan agrees, though he doesn’t look too thrilled with the idea.

Wei Ying grins and begins walking to his bedroom. “I have some designs sketched out already,” he calls from down the hallway. When he enters his room, he immediately gets to his knees and starts rummaging under his bed. “They’re in a black folder in my bag.”

"I’ll look for them, then," Lan Zhan says, sliding the folder out of Wei Ying’s backpack. 

"Sure," Wei Ying calls out from his bedroom, still digging under his bed for the parts he needs. He hears Lan Zhan start to flip through his stack of papers. "It’s a little messy but I’ll be able to explain the general idea to you, and—” 

Wei Ying stops.

The picture. 

Wei Ying panics. “Wait, Lan Zhan!” he croaks, bumping his head on the rail of his bed as he scrambles from the floor. He brings his hand to his head with a hiss, but Wei Ying is no quitter, so he rushes towards the living room. 

Then his knee slams against the doorframe. Wei Ying brings it up to his chest to clutch at in pain, but Wei Ying is no quitter, so he starts hopping towards the living room as fast as he can on only one leg.

Then he trips and gets a face full of carpet. 

Wei Ying briefly debates playing dead.

But I’m no quitter, Wei Ying thinks to himself, with much less enthusiasm than before.

And so, with a squeaky groan, Wei Ying crawls himself the rest of the way to the living room.

He sees Lan Zhan holding up a certain paper.

Wei Ying wishes the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him whole.

"Wei Ying."

"Y-Yes, Lan Zhan?"

"This is a portrait."

"Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coinciden—"

"Of me."

"Of you."

The room goes quiet.

Wei Ying laughs nervously. “I know what you’re thinking,” Wei Ying says, praying that he actually doesn’t.

“Why did you draw me?”

Fuck, I was right.

“An excellent question.” Wei Ying clears his throat and pushes himself into a sitting position. “I was… bored. Uh.”

Lan Zhan stays quiet.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Wei Ying says again, praying for a second time that he actually doesn’t.

“You’re talented.”

Fuck, I was — Wait. 

What?

“Talented?” Wei Ying repeats, watching a tint of red color the tips of Lan Zhan’s ears. “Really?”

Lan Zhan nods. “You have great attention to detail,” he says, but he sounds conflicted, as if torn between complimenting Wei Ying on his drawing and, essentially, complimenting himself.

Wei Ying is still trying to process the fact that Lan Zhan didn’t walk straight out of his apartment after finding the drawing. But when he does finally process it, well…

He’s always been a little shameless.

“Hey, Lan Zhan. Now that my dirty little secret is out,” Wei Ying song-songs, scooting up close to Lan Zhan, “do you mind if I draw you from up close?”

The expression that paints Lan Zhan’s face in the next second is nothing short of adorable. “Why?”

“Why not? Now that I have my subject in front of me, I may as well take advantage.”

“I don’t—”

“It’ll be super quick, and it’s a nice break from all this project stuff.”

Wei Ying flashes his brightest smile, doesn’t even have to try because it comes so naturally whenever he’s talking to Lan Zhan. When he does, a small croak sounds from Lan Zhan’s throat. His eyes widen just a bit and his bottom lip starts to quiver. Wei Ying blinks, tilts his head in question and opens his mouth to say more, but then Lan Zhan’s turning his face away. Red nips at his ears. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Wei Ying breathes. “Awesome!”

Wei Ying grabs a pencil and paper. He scoots back until he has a nice, wide view of Lan Zhan. “Not just anyone gets to be my muse, Lan Zhan. Consider yourself lucky. Now, pose for me!”

Lan Zhan doesn’t move.

“Minimalism. Great. I love it.”

Wei Ying keeps his drawing session short, partly because they have work to do, partly because the way Lan Zhan’s gaze is trained on him right now makes Wei Ying feel like lava is running beneath his skin. After a quick sketch of Lan Zhan’s features (and a flower in his hair because why not?), Wei Ying puts his pencil down and turns the paper over. “Ta-da!”

Lan Zhan extends his hand. 

Wei Ying gives him the drawing and the air around them goes silent as Lan Zhan looks it over. Wei Ying has an idea what Lan Zhan will say: ‘This is good,’ or ‘What’s with the flower?’ or ‘Can we work on the project now; you know, the whole reason I’m here?’

He doesn’t expect Lan Zhan to ask, “Can I keep this?”

Wei Ying blinks. “Why would you want to keep it? It barely does you justice.”

“You worked hard on it.”

Wei Ying laughs. “Lan Zhan, really, you don’t need to keep it. It’s a five minute sketch.”

Lan Zhan keeps his eyes on the drawing. “Please?”

Wei Ying sighs dramatically and throws his arms into the air. “ Please is such a dangerous word, especially coming from you, Lan Zhan. How can I say no to you when you use that word? It’s not fair. Name me one thing that’s more dangerous! I bet you can’t!”

“Your smile,” Lan Zhan immediately says, and Wei Ying freezes where he is. He drops his arms to his side and looks at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan refuses to look back.

“My smile… is dangerous?” Wei Ying breathes.

“I can’t say no to it,” Lan Zhan murmurs, an echo of Wei Ying’s words.

Wei Ying doesn’t know what to say, but he feels a heat nip at his cheeks, and what he does know is that it’s not something he wants Lan Zhan to pick up on. So he stuffs his face into Lan Zhan’s shoulder and squeezes his eyes shut. “Aiya, Lan Zhan. Look at what you’ve done. Your shameless words have tired me out.” 

Wei Ying feels all-too-well the slow rise and fall of Lan Zhan’s chest. “Mn.”

“I’m serious,” Wei Ying whines into the fabric of his shirt. “Take responsibility.”

Wei Ying hears Lan Zhan pick up a piece of paper — probably the list of noises they’re supposed to be working on — then hears, “You can rest while I work on our project.”

Wei Ying almost scoffs, but worries that he might accidentally spit on Lan Zhan’s shoulder if he does. “Lan Zhan, are you trying to rub your shamelessness off on me? It would be so rude to fall asleep while a guest is here!”

“Mn.”

Wei Ying lifts his head to chance a peek at Lan Zhan. “Or maybe you want me to fall asleep so you can steal my things? Eat all my food?” He narrows his eyes. “Draw a dick on my face?”

“I would never do that,” Lan Zhan replies smoothly. “A mustache would suffice.”

“Filled with jokes today, aren’t we?” Wei Ying grumbles, but the subtle banter between them and the glint of amusement in Lan Zhan’s eyes has him burying his face back into Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “Ridiculous.”

“Rest.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Rest,” Lan Zhan says again.

“How do you expect me to rest when you keep talking?”

“I apologize.”

“There you go again!”

Lan Zhan says nothing in reply. 

Wei Ying slowly slips his eyes shut as a wave of sleepiness hits him. “And now you go quiet, not even wishing me a good night,” he slurs. “You’re truly shameless.”

Wei Ying falls asleep to the sound of a soft hum.

*****

When Wei Ying had woken up next, it had been in his own bed, and to the sound of Jiang Cheng yelling above him. 

“Do you know how awkward it was? For me to walk in and find you slobbering on that guy’s shoulder and have to drag you off of him? We both had to carry you to bed. That’s how we were introduced. That’s how we bonded . By carrying your lifeless body to your—”

“Slobbering on his shoulder?” Wei Ying chokes out. “Did I really do that?”

“Are you— Do you not even care that I—?” Jiang Cheng mutters a string of profanities to the ceiling. “Of course you don’t.”

“Jiang Cheng. Did I actually drool on him?”

“Ask him yourself,” Jiang Cheng bites before walking away.

Wei Ying is absolutely not about to go through the horrors of embarrassing himself in front of Lan Zhan again, and the possibility of that is significantly higher at his place.

So for their next session, Wei Ying heads over to Lan Zhan’s apartment instead.

What happens when Wei Ying gets there is about what he’s expecting: he fawns over the tidiness of Lan Zhan’s apartment, fawns over Lan Zhan himself, and then fawns over Lan Zhan’s bunnies, who have been left to run wild and free. 

Ten minutes into Wei Ying cooing at the black and white bundles of joy, Lan Zhan taps Wei Ying on the shoulder. “Wei Ying, we should get to work now.”

With a heavy sigh, Wei Ying whines “I’ll be back for you, my dears,” at the bunnies, then allows Lan Zhan to drag him away. 

They settle down on the floor of the living room. The blue and white guqin is settled on Lan Zhan’s lap, and Wei Ying digs around in his bag for the device he’s been working on. After getting absolutely zero work done at his own place last time and feeling bad about it, Wei Ying had suffered through many all-nighters trying to assemble something presentable.

“So these are the clips we’ll put on the strings,” says Wei Ying, holding up a set of seven. “I made the openings super small so that even the tiniest movement can trigger the switch.” Wei Ying takes a pin out of his bag and pokes it into the hole, a click sounding through the room. “See?” 

Lan Zhan nods. Wei Ying moves on.

“And I’ve connected them all to this single box,” says Wei Ying, holding it up, “which will then be connected to a laptop. I haven’t done that part yet, because depending on how these switches fit, we may have to redesign the whole thing.” Wei Ying places the machinery into Lan Zhan’s hands. “Try it out.”

Lan Zhan clips one of the switches to the end of a string. Wei Ying holds his breath as Lan Zhan sets his finger on top of it. He gives it a strum. 

“Mn.” Lan Zhan gives Wei Ying an approvatory nod. “It sounds the same.”

Wei Ying is so happy he might actually die. “Awesome!”

“Let me try multiple,” says Lan Zhan, clipping another switch on. 

This time, when he strums, Wei Ying notices a slight twitch in his brows. “Lan Zhan?”

“It feels… weird,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying frowns. “Weird?”

“Let me show you,” says Lan Zhan, and gestures for Wei Ying to take a seat beside him. Wei Ying shuffles over to Lan Zhan and plops himself down so close to him that their shoulders brush. Lan Zhan holds out his hand. “May I…?”

Wei Ying blinks down at Lan Zhan’s hand and lets out a small, airy laugh. “Oh. Yeah,” he says, and places his hand softly in Lan Zhan’s palm.

When Lan Zhan’s fingers curl around his hand and bring it to the guqin strings, Wei Ying immediately starts reciting the alphabet in his head. He’s willing to recite anything, really, that will distract himself from the warmth and softness blanketing his skin. 

Lan Zhan removes the switches from the guqin, then brings his hand atop Wei Ying’s to position his fingers correctly over the strings. The tips of Lan Zhan’s fingers press softly against Wei Ying’s knuckles, and he says, “Use your index finger and middle finger to strum these two.”

With the way Lan Zhan’s touch is ghosting over his hand, it’s a wonder Wei Ying doesn’t pluck the strings right off the guqin. He strums them gently, and a low note echoes throughout the room.

“Remember that feeling,” Lan Zhan says.

I’m going to remember this feeling for the rest of my life, Wei Ying thinks, not about the strumming.

Lan Zhan clips the switches back to the ends of the guin strings. “Now do it again.”

Wei Ying does, and his eyes widen. “Oh. I totally see what you mean.”

“Mn.”

“It’s stiffer,” Wei Ying says, trying it again to be sure. “That’ll make it harder for you to play, right? That’s not good.” 

Lan Zhan hums. “It would be a little inconvenient, yes.” 

“So what should we do?” Wei Ying drags a hand down his face. “If we don’t have anything connected to the strings, I don’t see how we can track their movement.”

Minutes of silence pass.

“Do we have to track their movement?”

Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan. “What do you mean?”

“Could we not track the sound instead?”

“Track the sound?” Wei Ying scrunches up his nose in thought. “I don’t see how—”

“We could use a microphone,” suggests Lan Zhan. “If it picks up different frequencies as the guqin is played, we could assign those to various noises.” 

Wei Ying’s jaw drops.

“Lan Zhan,” he breathes. “Lan Zhan, you’re a genius.” Wei Ying quickly slides his computer out of his bag and opens up a browser. “I think that’ll work. I’ll need to find a new program to use, but that’s okay, because this is going to work , Lan Zhan.” 

“Mn,” hums Lan Zhan, sounding as pleased with himself as Wei Ying has ever heard. “Then I will work on finding a microphone that can pick up the guqin’s full frequency range.” Lan Zhan opens his own laptop. “We will proceed diligently.”

We will proceed diligently, Wei Ying repeats in his head. Who even talks like that? God, he’s so cute. 

For the next hour, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan work in almost complete silence, only breaking it to share findings or ask questions. Lan Zhan manages to find a microphone with the ability to pick up on even the guqin’s lowest notes, and Wei Ying finds a program that will allow them to convert recorded frequencies to other forms of media.

Though he’s not doing any physical work, Wei Ying feels exhausted after the hour passes.

“I need to take a break,” he whines, pushing his laptop off his legs. “Are you hot? I’m hot.”

“You’re hot likely because of your laptop,” says Lan Zhan. “You should put it on a surface that’s not your legs.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Wei Ying reaches back and pulls off his red scrunchie, letting his hair fall down his back. He shakes it out and runs a hand through it, then blinks when he hears a small choked noise coming from Lan Zhan’s direction. When he looks at him, Lan Zhan’s eyes are locked on him, and the tips of his ears are flushed pink.

Wei Ying doesn’t know what comes over him, but he suddenly gets a very, very strong urge to tease Lan Zhan. To color his ears in an ever deeper shade of red, to coax more of those cute noises out of his mouth, to direct Lan Zhan’s attention his way, all of it, and keep it there. 

It really is a little shameless, the way Wei Ying starts to slowly crawl towards Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying locks eyes with Lan Zhan as he creeps closer on his hands and knees, a lazy smile on his face. Lan Zhan is looking nowhere but at him and with such intensity that it’s as if he can’t turn his head even if he wants to. When Wei Ying is an arm’s length away, he smoothly flips his hair over one shoulder and smiles even wider.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Lan Zhan’s fingers twitch against the floor. 

“Hey, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, voice dripping with honey, and god , he doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it. All he knows is that his heart is hammering in his chest, and that Lan Zhan’s gaze on him is addicting. Wei Ying slowly extends his right hand and opens up his palm to reveal his red scrunchie. He tilts his head. “Can you tie my hair up for me? It’s actually hotter with my hair down.”

Lan Zhan sucks in a quick breath.

“I would do it myself, but my hands are tired from all that typing, you know?” Wei Ying says in excuse, but it doesn’t even look like Lan Zhan is paying attention to what he’s saying let alone caring about the stream of lies flowing from between his lips.

When Lan Zhan still refuses to talk, breathe, blink, Wei Ying ducks his head so that Lan Zhan can look at all his hair draping over the top of his back. Then he peeks up at Lan Zhan from beneath dark lashes and says in a murmur, “Come on, be a good boy and tie up my hair for me.”

An uncharacteristic squeak bubbles from Lan Zhan’s throat.

Wei Ying bites back a smirk. “Lan Zhan. Are you really going to deny me this? Your poor Wei Ying—” he starts, throat closing up slightly around those words “—can’t focus on this project if he’s sweating. What if we fail because I can’t get anything done? You understand the severity of this situation, don’t you? Of course you do, good b—”

Wei Ying abruptly stops talking when he feels the press of a finger against his lips. His heart stutters in his chest, and his gaze slowly travels from the tip of Lan Zhan’s finger to his eyes, now dark and unwavering. 

Wei Ying’s breath catches in his throat, and now he actually feels hot, feels like he’s going to start melting right here on the floor if he doesn’t move away from Lan Zhan’s immediate vicinity. Then Wei Ying jolts at the feeling of fingers brushing against his open palm as the scrunchie is lifted from his hand.

Now completely frozen, Wei Ying can only watch as Lan Zhan moves his hands behind his head to gather up his hair. It’s when the feel of Lan Zhan’s fingers carding through his hair gets to be too much that Wei Ying’s lips pop open, choking out, “Lan Zhan—”

“No talking,” Lan Zhan interrupts, “or I will not be able to focus.”

Wei Ying’s mouth immediately snaps shut. He feels a little lightheaded.

Lan Zhan pulls Wei Ying’s hair through the red scrunchie slower than Wei Ying thinks is possible, ties it up, then gently moves his hands away from Wei Ying’s ponytail. Wei Ying doesn’t have a chance to breathe before Lan Zhan swipes a finger beneath one of his bangs and tucks it behind his ear. 

Lan Zhan’s finger lingers against the shell of Wei Ying’s ear for a long second. Then it slowly falls away as he murmurs, “Good boy.”

Wei Ying feels his body temperature skyrocket.

He is literally about to self-destruct.

Yet he can’t move away, the air between him and Lan Zhan suddenly electric.

Lan Zhan doesn’t make any effort to back away, either. He stays where he is, eyes still locked with his own. That is, until Wei Ying notices the slight flit of Lan Zhan’s gaze to something lower down on his face.

Wei Ying unconsciously licks his lips. Then his gaze travels down to Lan Zhan’s own.

Lan Zhan’s fingers twitch again. He leans forward. Wei Ying follows him, drawn to Lan Zhan’s actions like they’re magnetic. When Wei Ying feels small puffs of warm air against his face, he goes through another wave of lightheadedness, but he doesn’t stop leaning closer. He slowly raises a hand off the ground and reaches for Lan Zhan, some part of him, it doesn’t matter which, and—

And then a phone rings, and the sound has Wei Ying flying back, ears ringing.

Lan Zhan’s body completely freezes and it takes a few seconds for him to blink back to reality. Then he turns to look at his blaring phone.

When he makes no move to reach for it, Wei Ying asks with as steady of a voice as he can muster, “Are— Are you going to get that?”

“No,” is Lan Zhan’s immediate answer, closing his eyes and pinching his brows together. A deep sigh laced with frustration leaves Lan Zhan’s mouth. Wei Ying doesn’t think he’s ever related to a sound so hard. 

A tense moment passes.

Then, Lan Zhan clears his throat. “We should get back to our work.”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.” Wei Ying quickly scoots back over to his laptop. “I like that idea. But first— First, I’m going to get a drink of water.”

Wei Ying doesn’t wait for a response. He just jumps up and hauls ass straight to the kitchen. 

It takes everything in his power not to throw his head back and wail.

“Oh fuck,” Wei Ying murmurs under his breath, hands gripping the countertop. “Oh fuck. Shit. Did we— Did we almost—?” He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. “No, we didn’t. He didn’t. He was just— sitting there. Tying my hair for me. I— Wei Ying. Wei Ying, you fucking dumbass.”

Wei Ying pities himself for another two minutes, then gloomily makes his way back to the living room. When he gets there, Lan Zhan is working on his laptop as if nothing is wrong. As if Wei Ying wasn’t just having the crisis of his life right in the next room.

Wei Ying slowly sits back down and places his hands over his keyboard, but he can’t bring himself to type. With Lan Zhan so close to him after whatever the hell that was, his mind refuses to be productive. 

Figuring that there’s no point in pretending to work, Wei Ying takes out his phone and starts scrolling through social media. Selfie, someone on vacation, selfie, selfie, a big ass pizza, selfie, bunny… 

Wei Ying smiles at the picture Lan Zhan had posted a couple of days ago. He clicks onto Lan Zhan’s profile and internally coos over the images, something he has done without shame ever since he and Lan Zhan followed each other.

Before Wei Ying can think about it, he blurts, “You should post a selfie on your social media.” 

Lan Zhan’s hands stop moving for a second. Wei Ying tilts his head curiously, then Lan Zhan starts typing again. “Why?”

“Because as cute as your bunnies are, your page needs more…you.” And I would like to have the option of looking at you whenever I want, thinks Wei Ying, but that’s beside the point. 

“Mm.” Lan Zhan writes something down in the notebook beside him. “I will consider it.”

“Yeah?” Wei Ying grins. He was honestly expecting a flat out No, so this, whatever it is, is definitely progress. “That’s great! And if anything, it’ll be an extra memory you can look back on. Social media is great for saving moments you want to remember forever.” 

Lan Zhan looks up. “Is that what you do?”

“Me? Yeah, I guess,” Wei Ying shrugs. “Though I’ll admit, most of the time I just use it to get my pretty face out there.” 

Wei Ying almost swears he hears a noise come out of Lan Zhan’s mouth — It sounded like he was choking? — but Lan Zhan ducks his head before Wei Ying can think about it. “I will consider it,” he says again.

That night, Wei Ying gets a notification that Lan Zhan has posted something new. 

It’s a picture of Lan Zhan, well, of half of Lan Zhan (the entire left side of his body is out of frame). His laptop is open behind him. A notebook is sprawled across its keyboard. A small white bunny is perched on his shoulder. And in the background, Wei Ying can briefly make out a length of hair tied in place with a red scrunchie.

Wei Ying grins, likes the picture, and types out a comment.

This is definitely getting saved to his phone.

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HanguangJun Memory.
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TwinJade :)
YillingP 😍 😍😍

*****

“My jiejie wants to meet you.”

Wei Ying sees Lan Zhan lift his head from across his screen. “You talk about me to her?”

Wei Ying flushes red. “Ah, well—”

“I don’t mind.” Lan Zhan clears his throat and turns his face. “My brother knows about you, too.”

Wei Ying can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah?”

“Mn. I’m sure he’ll want to meet you too, one day.”

“Too? So, is that a yes?”

“It is.”

“I’ll let her know, then!” Wei Ying leans back in his chair and takes out his phone to text Jiang Yanli the good news. Really, after fawning over Lan Zhan to her for the past few months, it’s a wonder she hadn’t asked to meet him earlier.

“Wei Ying.”

“Hm?” 

“I think you froze.”

Wei Ying looks up at Lan Zhan’s image. He waves his hand in front of the camera. “I did?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Wei Ying doesn’t know what to do. Hang up and call back? That sounds reasonable. But then a thought enters Wei Ying’s mind, and it’s silly, but—

“Is it still frozen?” Wei Ying asks, inching forward. His heart thuds against his chest.

“Yes.”

Wei Ying inches even closer, waits a few seconds, then asks, “Still?”

“Yes.”

Wei Ying gulps. Now his lips are barely brushing the screen. He takes a breath, then, “Still?”

“Yes.”

So then Wei Ying presses his lips against Lan Zhan’s face on his screen, closes his eyes, and imagines he’s kissing him for real. 

The door to his room opens.

“Hey, Wei Ying, are you— Oh my fucking god.”

*****

“You should’ve seen the way he was—”

“A-Cheng.”

“You shouldn’t have barged into my room, then.”

“A-Ying.”

“What are you— Sorry I wasn’t expecting to walk in on you making out with your laptop!”

“A-Cheng.”

“I was not making out with my laptop, I was sending Lan Zhan a very affectionate—”

“A-Ying.”

“I’m literally going to gag. Going to fucking g—”

“You two!”

Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng clamp their lips shut at Jiang Yanli’s outburst. She smiles softly and says, “He’ll be here any moment now. I don’t want you fighting when he comes.”

“Sorry,” they both murmur, before elbowing each other in the sides.

Lan Zhan arrives a few minutes later and immediately inclines his head towards Jiang Yanli. “Nice to meet you,” he says, and then to Jiang Cheng, “Hello again.”

Jiang Yanli smiles. “A-Ying has told us a lot about you!”

“Too much,” Jiang Cheng grumbles.

Jiang Yanli elbows him in the side. Then she smiles at Lan Zhan. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll go grab some snacks for us.”

“I’ll help you,” says Lan Zhan, and follows Jiang Yanli to the kitchen.

Wei Ying sighs happily as he watches them walk off. “Isn’t he the best, Jiang Cheng?”

“Put your tongue back in your mouth,” is all Jiang Cheng says.

Lan Zhan and Jiang Yanli come back a few minutes later. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng help them place the snacks down, and then they all settle onto the couch.

Jiang Yanli is the first to speak. “How’s the project been? Not too difficult, I hope.”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “At first it seemed it would be,” he says. “But Wei Ying is very intelligent, so it’s been going along smoothly.”

“Wh— That’s so not true, Lan Zhan!”

Jiang Yanli hums. “A-Ying tells me the exact opposite. He says you’re the one making it easy.”

“Mn. He’s being kind.”

Wei Ying sighs dramatically and drapes himself over Lan Zhan’s side. He flutters his eyelashes up at him, fully relishing in the pink that dusts Lan Zhan’s ears. “Oh, please. I would be so lost without you, Lan Zhan.”

Jiang Yanli throws Wei Ying a look of teasing adoration. “A-Ying,” she warns. Wei Ying pouts at her and sits up. Jiang Yanli turns to Lan Zhan. “I’m sure he can be a handful sometimes.” 

Jiang Cheng barks out a single laugh. “Sometimes? I would think he’s insufferable as a partner.”

“He’s not,” Lan Zhan says quickly. “I enjoy working with him.”

Wei Ying sticks his tongue out at Jiang Cheng and smirks victoriously. “You hear that, Jiang Cheng? He enjoys working with me. With the loud, irritating, insufferable Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan hums. “That’s not true,” he says, and before Wei Ying can splutter and whine, he continues, “I don’t know of such a Wei Ying. The one I enjoy working with is intelligent, thoughtful, and funny.”

Wei Ying’s smirk drops off his face and a heat claws at his cheeks. “Lan Zhan…” 

Beside him, Wei Ying barely hears Jiang Cheng whisper, “Are they—? Right in front of us? Get me the fuck out of here, jiejie.”

Jiang Yanli’s smile is beaming. “I’m glad you think so. In truth, A-Ying has been a blessing to our family ever since we took him in.” Then with a teasing ring, continues, “There certainly has never been a dull moment with him around.”

“I can imagine,” Lan Zhan says.

Wei Ying’s jaw drops at the series of twitches that tug at the corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth following those words. His jaw drops further when a soft exhale breaks past Lan Zhan’s lips.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying breathes. “Are you laughing at me?”

Lan Zhan casts him a sideways glance. “I am not.”

“You are!”

“When did I laugh?”

“You—!” Wei Ying turns to Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli in disbelief. “He laughed!”

Jiang Yanli stiffles a giggle behind her hand.

Jiang Cheng pinches his brows together and says, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

To Wei Ying’s absolute displeasure, which he emphasizes by dramatically blowing a bang out of his face, the topic is dropped and regular conversation continues. Wei Ying doesn’t say much, perfectly content to sit back and watch Lan Zhan interact with everyone. He’s a little surprised at how well they’re all getting along. In particular, Lan Zhan and Jiang Yanli seem to be especially hitting it off, at one point agreeing to swap some family recipes.

This image in front of Wei Ying, of Lan Zhan getting along with the most important people in his life, fills him with a warmth he can’t explain.

“What are you planning on doing after you graduate?”

At Jiang Yanli’s question, Wei Ying shoves his current thoughts into the very back of his mind to deal with later, because he will take any opportunity he can to brag about his super amazing partner. “He’s the best, jiejie!” Wei Ying grins and slings an arm around Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “He’s going to become a professor. Of music. At Fudan .” 

Lan Zhan’s shoulders stiffen slightly under Wei Ying’s touch. 

Jiang Yanli lets out a low hum and her eyes flicker from Wei Ying to Lan Zhan. “Is that right? That’s very exciting. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”

Lan Zhan bows his head slightly. “Thank you.”

Jiang Cheng scoffs and points a finger at Wei Ying. “This guy wants to travel the world. Can you believe it? He’s going to graduate and then get on a plane and never see us again.”

“He’s told me,” says Lan Zhan. “It’s an admirable dream.”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “I wouldn’t say admirable is the right word, but it definitely is something that fits him. Can you imagine him sitting in an office from nine to five?”

Wei Ying sticks out his tongue. “I’m sure I could do it just fine. The difference is that I don’t want to.” He turns to Lan Zhan. “This guy is going to be the pride of the family, Lan Zhan. He wants to start his own business and put the Jiang name in every household.”

Lan Zhan looks at Jiang Cheng. “That’s very admirable as well.”

Jiang Cheng turns his face with a click of his tongue.

Wei Ying laughs at his obvious embarrassment. “That’s what I always tell him! At least one of us is going to make a name for himself.” Wei Ying dramatically splays the back of his hand over his forehead. “And here I am, doomed to forever be known to the world as only Wei Ying.” 

“It’s fitting.”

Wei Ying drops his hand and tilts his head in question. “Fitting?”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan looks at him. “You are deserving of the name Wei Ying.” A pause, and then, “No one else could be.”

As Wei Ying tries to process Lan Zhan’s words, Jiang Yanli lets out a soft chuckle. She smiles and places a gentle hand on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “My A-Ying’s been needing someone like you for a long time. Please take care of him.”

Wei Ying, now trying to process two sets of words, laughs nervously. “Jiejie, you sound like you’re marrying me off.”

At the same time, Lan Zhan says, “I will.” 

Wei Ying’s laugh lodges in his throat. 

He catches Lan Zhan’s gaze on him, soft and sincere. He replays Lan Zhan’s words in his head, thoughtful and genuine. He feels like he’s being seen, heard, understood, and Lan Zhan’s body is warm next to his, and—

And this is the moment. The moment that Wei Ying feels his heart plummet to the pits of his stomach yet simultaneously claw up his throat. The moment that his ears start to ring and his vision blurs just a little, yet his senses are on overdrive at the same time. The moment that a searing heat crawls up his skin, yet there’s a slight shiver coursing through his body as if he’s standing in the middle of a snowstorm. 

This is the moment that Wei Ying experiences the greatest of cliches.

Wei Ying takes a shuddering breath, unable to tear his gaze away from golden eyes, his mind, body, and soul aching for Lan Zhan and Lan Zhan only.

Oh.

*****

It’s on a rainy afternoon that Wei Ying and Lan Zhan call each other next, unable to visit each other due to the weather. Lan Zhan is focused on some assignment he has, and Wei Ying is content just looking at him. 

With a hum, he sweeps his eyes across the parts of Lan Zhan’s room that he can see.

“Is that your guqin?” Wei Ying asks, spotting the instrument on Lan Zhan’s bed.

Lan Zhan turns his head slightly to see what Wei Ying’s looking at, then nods. “Yes.”

“Were you playing it just now?” Another nod. “What were you playing?”

“...A song,” answers Lan Zhan. He suddenly looks nervous.

Wei Ying laughs. “Well, no duh . Which song? Can I hear it?”

Lan Zhan purses his lips. He turns his gaze away from Wei Ying. “...Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Wei Ying grins. “That’s not a no . So, you’ll let me hear it someday?”

A comfortable silence fills the room.

“Yes,” Lan Zhan finally says, glancing at Wei Ying. “Someday.”

*****

Wei Ying is excited.

He steps onto the campus of Fudan University, takes in the sights around him, and he’s excited because he’s going to see Lan Zhan. Going to hang out with Lan Zhan. And sure, this isn’t anything new, but Wei Ying has yet to tire from it.

Yesterday, Lan Zhan had suggested that Wei Ying visit Fudan for the purpose of using their music room. When Wei Ying had questioned it, Lan Zhan had said that it had all the space necessary for them to work, and that it might be less distracting than either one of their homes.

And, well, Wei Ying really can’t disagree with that.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying turns at the sudden call of his name. 

Lan Zhan is standing in wait, hands behind his back. He’s not smiling, but there’s a softness in his gaze that emits a feeling of happiness. With the sun above them reflecting off his golden eyes, Wei Ying thinks he might actually be looking at an angel.

“Lan—” Wei Ying has to stop and clear his throat after feeling the name stick in his throat. “Lan Zhan. You’re here.”

“This is where I study,” Lan Zhan says, a soft snort of laughter punctuating his words. “ You are here.”

“I am,” Wei Ying laughs, soft and airy. “As promised.”

And in that moment, as he and Lan Zhan stare at each other while the world around them blurs, the only thought crossing Wei Ying’s mind is that maybe all those slow-motion scenes he laughs at in romantic comedies aren’t so bullshit after all. 

Lan Zhan breaks the silence first. “Shall we head to the music room?”

“Mm. We shall.” Wei Ying bows. “Lead the way.”

Lan Zhan does, walking Wei Ying down a grand path cutting through the middle of the campus. Wei Ying takes in the scenery around him in awe. “You have so much green over here. It’s not like this at Tongji.”

“Mn. It’s relaxing.”

“What’s that?” Wei Ying asks, pointing to a grand four-story building.

Lan Zhan turns to it. “The library.”

“The library?! Holy shit!” Wei Ying fumbles. “That’s three times the size of ours!” 

“We can go there later, if you’d like to.”

“Yeah, I’d like to,” says Wei Ying, completely about spending more time with Lan Zhan and not really about the library itself.

Only a minute later, Wei Ying comes to an abrupt stop when Lan Zhan grabs him. Wei Ying blinks down at their joined hands, then up at Lan Zhan, then at the two figures approaching them that Lan Zhan can’t tear his eyes away from.

“A-Zhan?” says the older of the two men. “You’re supposed to be at practice right now.”

Lan Zhan bows his head. “Uncle.”

Wei Ying’s mouth pops open. 

So that’s his uncle, Lan Qiren, he thinks, gaze then flickering to the man beside him who looks strikingly similar to Lan Zhan. And the guy next to him must be his brother, Lan Huan.

“A-Zhan.” Lan Qiren frowns. Then he looks at their joined hands and frowns even harder. “I hear you haven’t been attending practice as much as usual.”

Lan Zhan slowly raises his head. “I prefer to practice alone.”

Lan Qiren scoffs. “If you practice alone, who will tell you when you’ve made a mistake?”

Lan Zhan looks between his uncle and brother. “In truth, Uncle, I have been busy with my project with Wei Ying. I don’t have as much time as before to practice.”

“Then we never should’ve let you join in on this collaboration,” Lan Qiren says. “Your own studies come first. You know this.”

“Uncle—”

“And he should know that you have other things to do, that this is simply a side project. Continuously visiting each other isn’t necessary.”

Side project? Wei Ying thinks, a little offended. A final senior project is definitely not a side anything. And how does he know we’ve been visiting each other?

Lan Zhan looks to the ground, the light dissipating from his eyes. He says nothing, but the dejection on his face is obvious. 

The sight frustrates Wei Ying. Irritation claws at his heart. He purses his lips, curls his fingers at his sides, and turns to Lan Qiren with the intention of politely — but very, very honestly — standing up for Lan Zhan and the work that they’ve been doing.

Before he can, Lan Huan, not oblivious to Wei Ying’s plan, shakes his head. He nods in Lan Zhan’s direction, as if to say This will cause more trouble for him than it will you.

Wei Ying bites the inside of his cheek. He reluctantly unfolds his fingers, choosing to cross his arms over his chest instead. “Lan Zhan, we should get going.”

Lan Zhan glances at Wei Ying and nods. He takes a step forward. 

“Get going? Where?” Lan Qiren asks, tone still sharp.

Lan Zhan stops moving. “The music room,” he answers after a moment’s hesitation.

Lan Qiren looks ready to combust, though Wei Ying assumes this isn’t a new look for him. “That is accessible only to members of the music program. Are we starting to break rules now, too?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “It would help with our project, and I will be with him the entire time.”

“Accessible only to members of our music program,” Lan Qiren repeats. 

Wei Ying bites his tongue before spinning on his heels. He doesn’t care where they go, he just wants Lan Zhan out of his uncle’s sight. “It’s fine, Lan Zhan. We can head to the library and work there.”

“A-Zhan.”

Wei Ying swears he’s going to pop a vessel if another word comes out of Lan Qiren’s mouth. He turns back around in wait.

“You have a performance tomorrow. Is that not more important than your project?” Lan Qiren scolds. “You should be practicing right now.” 

Those words momentarily dissipate Wei Ying’s anger. He blinks. “Performance?” Lan Qiren ignores him, so he turns to Lan Zhan. “What performance?”

Lan Zhan turns to Wei Ying and some light reappears in his eyes. “Wei Ying. I was going to ask if you would like to—”

“Practice,” Lan Qiren interrupts. “Now.”

Lan Zhan blinks and turns to Lan Qiren. “Uncle, I wanted to—”

“I will not repeat myself.”

Lan Zhan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He inhales sharply through his teeth but says nothing back to his uncle, instead bowing his head.

Wei Ying frowns. The bridge of his nose creases in worry. He extends a hand. “Lan Zh—”

Lan Zhan turns away from Wei Ying and begins to walk off. Wei Ying watches him go further and further away until Lan Zhan finally rounds a corner and disappears altogether. Wei Ying’s hand drops to his side, but he continues looking forward, a pain enveloping his chest.

Lan Qiren hums from beside him and turns to leave. Wei Ying glances at his retreating figure, and then at Lan Huan. Lan Huan is staring down the path Lan Zhan had walked down, a frown shaping his lips. Then he turns and looks Wei Ying in the eyes. 

Wei Ying can’t decipher his expression before Lan Huan spins and walks off, leaving Wei Ying alone in the courtyard. 

That night, Wei Ying receives a text.

From: [Unknown]
Lotus Concert Hall. 8 PM.

*****

Wei Ying wonders if it’s silly of him to be placing so much trust into this mystery text. Wonders if it’s silly of him to be running to catch a taxi to a building he’s never been to before, for a performance he has no ticket to. Wonder if it’s silly that he picked up a bouquet of peonies beforehand, for someone who may not even be there.

But when Wei Ying arrives at the Lotus Concert Hall at 7:45pm and sees Lan Zhan’s name on a pamphlet stuffed into his hand, Wei Ying realizes he doesn’t give a single fuck how silly it might have been. 

Wei Ying walks up to a window outside a large set of golden double doors. “Hi,” he says, twirling the bouquet around in his hands. “How do I get in?”

The man behind the window holds up a slip of paper. “Do you have a ticket?”

“Uh, no.” Wei Ying smiles sheepishly. “Can I buy one?”

“All sold out,” the man replies. “Sorry.”

Wei Ying visibly deflates. Lan Zhan’s crestfallen expression from yesterday afternoon flashes through his mind, and he swallows the lump that forms in his throat. His hands grip the bouquet tighter. “Ah. Really? I know the person performing, so…”

“Were you invited?”

“Invited?” Wei Ying thinks about the mystery text. “...Yes?”

The man picks up a list. “What’s your name?” 

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying holds his breath as the man’s eyes scan the list.

“Go on in,” the man finally says, and Wei Ying almost cries from happiness.

Wei Ying flings open the double doors and squawks at the sight before him.

The concert hall is huge. Huge. And it’s packed. Every seat is already almost filled. Suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people, Wei Ying directs his attention to the decorations lining the room instead. Golden curtains, warm lights, a giant chandelier. Wei Ying feels like he’s stepped into some alternate dimension where he’s somehow scored tickets to the hottest Broadway show on Earth.

“Take your seats. The doors will be closing in ten minutes.”

Wei Ying blinks out of his daze at the voice over the intercom. He quickly scans the near-full array of seats for an empty one, and catches a glimpse of a single seat in the front towards the right side of the stage.

Wei Ying doesn’t care how it looks; he runs. 

He manages to plop himself down into the seat before anyone else can. A wave of relief flows through his body and he mentally pats himself on the back for scoring such a good view. 

Wei Ying flips through the pamphlet in his hands as the room around him settles in wait. He sees that Lan Zhan isn’t the only one performing — which makes sense because as great as Lan Zhan is, this is a huge fucking crowd — and counts ten performances in total. Some are Fudan alumni, some are current students, and all are, apparently, musical prodigies. 

Wei Ying doesn’t think he’d fully understood the full extent of how popular Fudan’s music program was, but now, sitting in this golden performance hall, he thinks he might finally get it. The realization makes his heart swell with pride for Lan Zhan.

Much to Wei Ying’s dismay, Lan Zhan is scheduled to be the last one to perform. So as the lights in the hall dim and a voice over the intercom asks for everyone’s silence, Wei Ying puffs out a small sigh and settles in for the hour-long event. 

His hands remain wrapped around the bouquet.

The performances start. Wei Ying finds himself enjoying them a lot more than he thought he would as he battles with a stomach swarming with butterflies. The music is calm, powerful, beautiful, and it takes Wei Ying’s mind off of a certain golden-eyed man for long enough to calm his pounding heart. 

Then a voice over the intercom announces Lan Zhan’s performance, and Wei Ying gets a little lightheaded. It’s quickly overpowered by a wave of excitement, though, at getting to see Lan Zhan perform from up close. 

And then Lan Zhan walks on stage, dressed in long, flowing white robes, dark hair tied up into a perfect ponytail that swings as he walks — no, glides — to the center of the stage. 

At this moment, Wei Ying’s excitement is quickly overpowered by something else. Awe? Admiration? Wonder? Wei Ying’s not sure what the word is. All he knows is that he’s breathless and that he can’t look anywhere but at Lan Zhan.

His hands clutch the bouquet even tighter.  

Lan Zhan takes a seat before a black guqin, one that Wei Ying is very familiar with from video calls and home visits. Lan Zhan’s eyes flutter closed and he raises his hands to gently place them on the strings.

Then, with a single strum, the concert hall comes to life.

Wei Ying is frozen in his seat as Lan Zhan plays. Wei Ying’s eyes flit from Lan Zhan’s hands, floating across the guqin, to his eyes, closed in concentration, to his legs, crossed beneath white robes. The music that pours from the stage is mesmerizing, passionate , and Wei Ying can’t help the ball of emotion that swells in his throat.

To say that Wei Ying has never felt this way listening to a song is not an exaggeration.

Every note that Lan Zhan plays blankets Wei Ying in the warmest sense of calm. It keeps him still, afraid that a single breath or movement will cause him to miss the tiniest sound. The music echoes in his ears and swirls in his brain. Wei Ying can only see Lan Zhan, can only hear Lan Zhan, can only feel a red hot emotion deep in his chest that’s strong, way too strong, is so strong that it can’t be anything but—

Then Wei Ying catches the smallest downturn of Lan Zhan’s lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a barely noticeable frown.

Wei Ying’s heart clenches painfully at the sight, at the thought that there may be something about this performance that Lan Zhan isn’t happy with.

Wei Ying needs to fix this.

Look at me, Lan Zhan. Wei Ying sits a little straighter. He leans forward a little more. His hands wrap tighter around the bouquet. Look at me.

Lan Zhan’s eyes flutter open. Wei Ying watches him blink before raising his head slightly to swipe his gaze across the audience. Then Lan Zhan turns his head to the right and locks eyes with Wei Ying.

Definitely not bullshit, Wei Ying thinks for the second time about slow-motion romantic comedy scenes. Definitely not bullshit.

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. He looks like he’s in shock, but with the way his fingers continue to seamlessly play his song, one would never be able to tell. 

Wei Ying gives Lan Zhan a thumbs up in encouragement.

The downturn to Lan Zhan’s lips disappears and is replaced with something brighter.

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying don’t break eye contact for the remainder of the performance. Wei Ying smiles, wide and bright, nodding along to the notes that sear themselves into his skin. Lan Zhan plays as beautifully as before, if not more so, his hands crafting melodies that reverberate through the air.

The final note echoes throughout the hall. 

It’s only then that Wei Ying feels time start around him again.

The concert hall erupts into applause, and Lan Zhan stands to deliver a grateful bow. Right when he straightens back up, his eyes find Wei Ying’s again.

Wei Ying claps extra loud, because he’s not about to have Random Guy #435 in the seventh row best him at cheering for Lan Zhan. And, just for good measure, Wei Ying blows a kiss at Lan Zhan and throws a wink at him for fun.

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen again and he turns his face.

Wei Ying laughs quietly to himself. Then he pouts, because Lan Zhan’s attention is no longer on him, and well, he needs to fix that.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying waves his arm wildly. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan slowly turns back to find him.

Wei Ying grins, and tosses his bouquet of peonies onto the stage.

Lan Zhan catches it before it hits the ground. He turns the bouquet around in his hands a few times, and Wei Ying is not ready for the smile that graces Lan Zhan’s lips, soft and wide.

Holy shit , Wei Ying thinks, because Lan Zhan’s smile is gorgeous, and Wei Ying should make him smile like that all the time. In fact, in that second, he decides to dedicate his life to it.

Wei Ying can’t go another second without being next to Lan Zhan. He starts running for the door that leads to backstage, and hopes that Lan Zhan will be waiting there for him.

He is.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan breathes. He looks like he has something to say, so Wei Ying waits patiently for him to find the words. Waits for him to craft together an eloquent sentence befitting the Lan name, to express his thoughts and feelings with beautiful simplicity, to bare his heart and free his soul like he’d done on stage, and Wei Ying will listen, will stand here and wait no matter how long it takes, no matter how— “Wei Ying.”

Well, he’s not that patient.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying grabs his hands and squeezes them. A warmth surges through his body. His eyes sparkle in awe. Adrenaline still courses through him from the music he’d heard, from the way it had spoken to him, and from the need to let Lan Zhan know. “That was amazing, Lan Zhan!”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says again, like he can’t believe Wei Ying is here. “How did you—?”

Wei Ying holds a finger to Lan Zhan’s lips. “Don’t worry about it. The important thing is that I came, right?” 

Lan Zhan nods, stare fixed on Wei Ying. He keeps his lips still under Wei Ying’s touch. 

Wei Ying’s gaze softens and he drops his finger from Lan Zhan’s mouth to take hold of his hands again, giving them another squeeze. “You’re so talented, Lan Zhan. What you played was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

Lan Zhan inhales sharply. “You liked it?” 

Almost as much as I like you, Wei Ying thinks, heart thudding in his chest. But he obviously can’t say that, so he instead nods excitedly. “Of course I liked it. Why would I lie to you?” Wei Ying begins to hum a part of Lan Zhan’s song, unnoticing of the way Lan Zhan’s breath catches in his throat. “You wrote it yourself, didn’t you?”

Lan Zhan swallows. “Yes.”

Wei Ying grins. “I knew it. It sounded so personal, there’s no way it couldn’t have been.” Wei Ying loves the way Lan Zhan’s eyes shimmer as he nods again. “Does it have a name?”

“I—” Lan Zhan ducks his head. The tips of his ears flare a bright red. Wei Ying blinks down at their joined hands when he feels Lan Zhan’s grip around them tighten. “Wei Ying, I—”

“A-Zhan!”

The two jump. Lan Qiren is approaching them quickly, looking very , very pissed. Lan Huan walks at his side, eyes darting carefully between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Wei Ying moves to drop his hands back to his side but Lan Zhan only grips them tighter, not allowing him to. Wei Ying glances at him, at his troubled expression, and gives his fingers a reassuring squeeze.

Lan Zhan stands a little straighter.

“Uncle—”

“What was that, A-Zhan?!” Lan Qiren stops in front of them. His eyes dart to Wei Ying and Lan Zhan’s connected hands and he bites his tongue. Wei Ying thinks it might be hard enough to draw blood. Lan Qiren snaps his gaze back to Lan Zhan. “What were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?”

Wei Ying blinks and looks between Lan Zhan and his uncle. He’s completely lost. 

What stunt? he thinks, because he’s been here since the performance started and the only stunt Lan Zhan had pulled was giving Wei Ying more reasons to cry into his pillow at night.

“I was not trying to pull a stunt, Uncle, I—”

“Listen to yourself!”

Lan Zhan’s hands clench tighter around Wei Ying’s. Wei Ying looks at him worriedly, then turns to Lan Qiren. He wants to help, so desperately wants to help, but needs to know what the hell is going on first.  “Uh, what are we talking about exactly?”

Lan Qiren refuses to acknowledge his existence, which is no surprise to Wei Ying. Thankfully, Lan Huan is here, and he at least seems to tolerate him. “A-Zhan… played a song different from the one he’d originally been practicing.”

Wei Ying still doesn’t get it. If anything, now he’s more confused as to why this is an issue. He almost laughs. “So? Does it matter? He did fine either way.”

Lan Huan says nothing. He looks at Lan Zhan with pursed lips and an indecipherable gloss in his eyes. Beside him, Lan Qiren sneers, “It is not a matter of whether it sounded good. It shouldn’t have been done in the first place. Is this how I raised you? To go behind my back like this? It’s—”

“Uncle,” Lan Zhan interrupts with a strength to his tone that has the hairs on Wei Ying’s arm standing. “Changing the song was a choice I made. Please accept it.”

Lan Qiren furrows his brows. “Accept it?”

A breath, and then, “This is what I want to do.”

Wei Ying, for some odd reason, gets the feeling that Lan Zhan is referring to more than just a change of song.  

A tense moment passes before Lan Huan sighs. “It’s been a long day. A-Zhan, you should go back and rest. Uncle and I need to speak to some faculty before returning. Let’s meet tomorrow when we’ve all had time to think.”

Lan Zhan nods and watches as Lan Huan and Lan Qiren (the latter almost unwillingly, and not before throwing the both of them another disapproving look) walk away.

Wei Ying turns to Lan Zhan a little nervously. “Ah, I guess I’ll go too, then. Let you rest and all. Great job again, Lan Zh—”

Lan Zhan intertwines his fingers with Wei Ying’s before he can finish his sentence.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Lan Zhan says, words barely audible. “If that’s okay.”

He notices Lan Zhan’s grip tighten around the bouquet. 

“Yeah. Okay,” Wei Ying breathes. “Wherever you want.”

*****

By the time Wei Ying and Lan Zhan reach the park, the sky is littered with stars.

Wei Ying walks silently at Lan Zhan’s side. The incident with Lan Qiren had clearly affected him in some way, and Wei Ying wants to leave Lan Zhan to his own thoughts for as long as he wants. This doesn’t stop him, though, from continuously sneaking glances at him in concern.

Lan Zhan eventually comes to a stop beneath a tree in a more secluded area of the park. Wei Ying stops moving and allows himself to fully look at the other.

Lan Zhan’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing slowly, the rise and fall of his chest calculated. A swirl of wind is blowing his ponytail from side to side, and the white robe that Lan Zhan is still wearing flutters along the ground. Wei Ying suddenly realizes how thin the cloth looks, and in this cool night air, worries that Lan Zhan is underdressed.

Wei Ying quickly shrugs off his coat and places it over Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan blinks his eyes open, then casts a sideways glance at Wei Ying. He starts to reach for the jacket. “I don’t—”

Wei Ying holds up his palm. “If you give it back to me, I’ll just put it on the ground and then none of us will wear it.”

Lan Zhan keeps his eyes locked with Wei Ying’s, likely trying to decide whether his words are a bluff or not. In the end, he must decide they aren’t because he drops his hand back down with a soft sigh.

Wei Ying smiles, pleased. He gets down on the grass and softly pulls Lan Zhan down with him.

The two sit in silence. Wei Ying looks up at the moon and counts the minutes as they tick by. In his head, the music he’d heard just a while ago plays on repeat and calms his mind.

“I also want to travel the world.”

Wei Ying blinks out of his thoughts and looks up at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan remains still, gaze forward. The wind blows wisps of his hair across his face.

“But you said you wanted to stay here.”

“What I said was not sincere.” Lan Zhan grips the fabric of his robe. “My dream has always been to travel. To find places where music is needed most. To play and to discover.”

Wei Ying processes this new information. “Then why not do it?” he asks, but immediately regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips. Because Wei Ying knows what’s stopping him.

Lan Zhan must guess that Wei Ying already knows, because he says nothing in response.

“Does your uncle…” Wei Ying trails off, the question dying on his tongue.

“My uncle is supportive of me,” Lan Zhan says after a moment’s silence. “He can be harsh but he truly loves my brother and I. Since my parents passed, he has been trying to keep us close so that he can watch over us easily.” Lan Zhan takes a deep, slow breath. “I do not blame him.”

Wei Ying swallows thickly. “When did your parents…?”

“When I was six years old.”

“Ah.” Wei Ying looks off to the side. “And your uncle has been watching you ever since?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan exhales. “He’s been my brother and I’s sole caretaker.”

Wei Ying suddenly feels like shit for assuming the worst about Lan Qiren. Yeah, his words to Lan Zhan weren’t the nicest they could’ve been, but who is he to judge someone who’s known and cared for Lan Zhan his entire life? 

“You don’t need to feel bad,” Lan Zhan says, reading Wei Ying’s thoughts.

Wei Ying turns his head to look at Lan Zhan. “Still. Have you heard that one saying? Never assume, because if you do, you’ll make an ass of you and me.” 

Lan Zhan hums. “I don’t think you made an…” He trails off.

Wei Ying smiles. “Ass?”

“Yes. Of you and me.” Lan Zhan plays with the sleeve of Wei Ying’s jacket. “You were concerned, and I appreciate that more than I can express.” Lan Zhan sighs. “And although my uncle and I have some differences in opinion, he was not wrong yesterday in saying that I’d been slacking in my practice.”

Wei Ying tilts his head in question. “If you didn’t need the extra practice, why does it matter?”

“I did not stop attending my lessons because I felt I didn’t need practice.” Lan Zhan looks at Wei Ying. “These lessons were meant to prepare me for my performance today. I stopped attending because I no longer wanted to play the song I was originally meant to.”

“Oh,” Wei Ying breathes.

“If I attended and started practicing a new song, they would not be able to hide it from Uncle. And if I attended and kept practicing the old song as a cover, it would take away from the time I had to practice this new one. So in the end, I stopped going.”

Wei Ying nods slowly. “So his anger was justified.”

“Regarding the practice, yes, and I will apologize to him for it.” A pause. “But I will not apologize for my dream.”

“He’ll come around,” Wei Ying says, and he truly believes these words. “I know he will. Especially after your performance, I don’t think he can ignore that you should play your music the way you want to.”

Lan Zhan hums lightly, but says nothing in response.

Then Wei Ying’s mind starts to fill again with Lan Zhan’s music. Even just thinking about it, the palms of his hands start to sweat and he can feel his heart beating in his ears. Paired with Lan Zhan right in front of him, so close to him, Wei Ying has a thought so monumental it almost rips a gasp from his throat.

“Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan hums.

“I have an idea for our project.”

Lan Zhan glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “We already have an idea,” he says, but there’s no strength in his words. Wei Ying knows fully well that neither of them are satisfied with their current direction.

“Let’s do something with your song,” Wei Ying says. He places a hand on his shoulder. They lock eyes beneath the night sky. “The one you played. It was just so perfect, felt so right . When I listened to it, there was so much inspiration behind every note. I could feel every sound. I could see the music, Lan Zhan, it was painting the most vivid pictures in my mind.”

Lan Zhan’s lips pop open. His eyes swim under the light of the moon. “What did you see?”

Wei Ying’s fingers tighten slightly around Lan Zhan’s shoulder. His gaze veers to the ground. All too suddenly, he feels like he’s teleported back in time, sitting in a red, velvet chair, staring up at the keeper of his heart bringing music to life. 

Warmth pools in his body. His heart beats rapidly in his ears. The feeling he’s had for months now, the feeling he’s tried to suppress, had so abruptly exploded upon hearing the music. Had flared and grown and bared its gorgeous, frightening teeth until Wei Ying could no longer breathe. Until he was drowning, head swimming with thoughts of Lan Zhan , only Lan Zhan. Until he could no longer try and deny the overwhelming affection he felt for the man before him.

Wei Ying parts his lips. He’s no fool. There is only one word to describe what he’s feeling. To explain the butterflies in his stomach whenever he sees Lan Zhan, the smile permanently etched onto his face, the desire to do anything, anything , to make him happy. 

“...Love,” Wei Ying finally breathes.

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. A shaky breath sneaks past his lips. “Wei Ying.”

“We need to do it, Lan Zhan. Use your song. That will be the focus of our project. The center will be you, playing it.” He swallows. “Please. Trust me.”

Lan Zhan’s silence stretches into the night. Then finally, he raises his hands and places them on Wei Ying’s shoulders, too. “Then,” he begins, golden eyes capturing grey ones, “play it with me. With your flute.”

Wei Ying’s not expecting that at all . He laughs nervously. “Lan Zhan, it’s your song, and I’m really not that good at—”

“Please,” Lan Zhan breathes. “This song is meant to be played by two.”

The intensity of Lan Zhan’s gaze. The hint of desperation lacing his tone. Wei Ying is not sure why, but he can feel how important Lan Zhan’s request is to him. It reverberates through his bones and echoes through his mind.

“Then,” Wei Ying says, smile bright and wide, “the song will be played by two.”

And Lan Zhan smiles back.

*****

syn·es·the·sia

/ˌsinəsˈTHēZHə/

noun: synaesthesia ; noun: synesthesia

1. the production of a sense impression relating to one sense or part of the body by stimulation of another sense or part of the body.

This is the definition Wei Ying shows Lan Zhan as they sit in the library. Lan Zhan reads it and understands immediately.

One sense with another.

Sound and sight.

Music and colors.

*****

During the final month of their collaboration, Lan Zhan and Wei Ying spend every moment they can with each other as they rework their project.

Wei Ying is not one to brag, but their teamwork is flawless. 

“Lan Zhan, can you hand me—”

Lan Zhan will place a battery in his hand before he can finish.

“Wei Ying, can you—”

Wei Ying will hand him his flute without a second thought.

This mind reading of theirs is so ridiculous that on one day, right after it hits noon and Wei Ying and Lan Zhan look at each other simultaneously and say “Lunch?” in the same tone, Wei Ying doubles over into laughter while Lan Zhan watches on with the faintest of smiles on his lips.

It’s during one of their meet-ups that Lan Zhan begins teaching Wei Ying his song.

“You’re so going to regret this, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, holding his flute up to his lips.

“I won’t.” Lan Zhan holds Wei Ying’s hand steady and holds the sheet music up in front of him. “Just play as you usually would. Don’t worry about mistakes.”

And in this moment, Lan Zhan’s face is so close to his. His mouth is so close to his. Wei Ying’s lips start to tingle, the feeling running down his body to the tips of his toes. Then Lan Zhan looks at him, refuses to look away, and the both of them lean closer, closer, closer...

Wei Ying panics and blows his flute directly into Lan Zhan’s ear. 

Lan Zhan jumps back and presses a hand against the side of his head, a dazed look on his face. Wei Ying immediately grabs the sheet music with shaky hands and starts practicing.

Most of their time, though, is spent bringing their idea to life. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan work to seamlessly attach tiny microphones to both the guqin and flute, trying out different positions until they find the one that can best capture their frequencies. Then they connect the microphones to a laptop and begin tinkering with an audio software.

“See, we can assign each frequency a type of movement,” says Wei Ying. “One note could cause an explosion of color while another can cause a swirl of color.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan looks through the settings available to them. “Can we change colors?”

“Based on frequency? I don’t think so, that would be—”

“Not based on frequency.” Lan Zhan looks at Wei Ying. “Based on the user.”

“Oh, like, you and I get different colors?” Lan Zhan nods. “We can do that. What colors should I give us?”

Lan Zhan sits back. “You can pick.”

Wei Ying snorts. “No way. This is an expression of music kind of thing, and you’re the music expert here.”

“Just as you trusted my judgement with the microphone, an engineering kind of thing,” Lan Zhan says, “I will trust yours with this.”

On the final days of their partnership, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan begin attaching the microphones to their instruments. Then Wei Ying hooks them up to a laptop, and the laptop to a projector.

Lan Zhan plays a note.

A flash of blue swirls across the screen. 

*****

The day is here.

Wei Ying looks out at the crowd of people, and holy shit, the day is here.

Lan Zhan, however, is not.

Granted, he’s not supposed to be here yet, but still.

Wei Ying is nervous. Nervous, and also a little pissed, because he’d only found out upon arriving that he was allowed to invite people. Wei Ying definitely would’ve asked Jiang Yanli to come and definitely would’ve dragged Jiang Cheng by his arm if he knew it was an option, because being surrounded by familiar faces is never a bad thing.

Especially when you’re about to perform in front of— Holy shit, how many people are out there? Fuck. Oh my — Fuck.

“Wei Ying.”

A sense of ease washes over Wei Ying. He turns around with a sigh of relief. “Lan Zh—”

His words catch in his throat.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

It’s absolutely criminal how hot Lan Zhan looks right now, Wei Ying thinks, consciously having to keep his mouth closed to stop himself from drooling. Lan Zhan is standing in front of him in a white button-down shirt and his pants, oh god his pants , his legs look amazing, fuck , and holy shit is that a tie? Fuck. Why does he look so good in a tie?!

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying tries again, and although squeaky, it does manage to come out.

Lan Zhan doesn’t answer, instead giving Wei Ying a look-over so obvious that Wei Ying feels his cheeks start to burn. “Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan finally breathes, and it’s a little squeaky with him, too.

“You look great. Amazing.” Wei Ying looks down at his own outfit. “We sort of match. I’m wearing the black version of everything you’re wearing. Isn’t that funny? Everyone’s totally going to think we planned this.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan takes a few steps forward until he’s directly in front of Wei Ying. “We complement each other nicely.” And then, “You look stunning.”

“Stu— Ah, such a flowery word,” Wei Ying says with a click of his tongue. 

“A true word.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Wei Ying looks around. “Did you give your guqin to the staff? I gave them all my stuff. They said they needed to check it in beforehand or something and they’ll bring it out on stage when it’s our turn, but—”

“I gave it to them.”

“Nice. Okay. Of course you did, you’re always on top of it.” Wei Ying takes a breath. “Did you see how many people are out there? Holy shit. Did they invite the whole country or what?”

“They extended the invitation to all the faculty and students at Tongji and Fudan, as well as all the friends and family of those individuals,” explains Lan Zhan. “So not the whole country, but maybe seventy percent of it.”

“This is not the time to be making jokes, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines. “We’re about to—”

“Students, please get ready for the event to start.”

Wei Ying starts laughing a little hysterically.

“Well,” Wei Ying says, way too loudly. “This is it!” 

“Mn.” Lan Zhan places a hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder. “Do not be nervous.”

“Me? Nervous?” Pssh.” Wei Ying dismisses Lan Zhan’s words with a wave of his hand. “Why would I be nervous? We’ve worked hard, we know our stuff, we’re ready! Am I freaking out a little because I’m about to play alongside this generation’s musical genius, quite possibly embarrassing myself? Maybe. But you know what? That’s okay, because I know I engineered this baby to perfection, and so what if I mess up? It’s not like it’ll throw off our visuals, except actually it will, and—”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan squeezes his shoulder. “You will do great.”

Wei Ying sighs and juts out his bottom lip in a pout. “But what if I don’t?”

“You will,” Lan Zhan assures. “But even if you mess up, I will still be happy. I will still be proud of our work.”

Wei Ying almost tears up, almost , but manages to keep it together so as to not throw off Lan Zhan. “Hey, Lan Zhan,” he says, mustering up a weak smile. “When we finish this performance, it’s all over, huh? No reason to meet up anymore, or to call each other…” 

“Wei Ying.” 

Wei Ying clears his throat to hide the shuddering breath clawing from his insides. “Lucky for you, I’ll finally be out of your hair!”

Lan Zhan’s mouth curls into a frown. The bridge of his nose creases and his eyes gloss over with an emotion that makes Wei Ying’s stomach curl. 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says. His voice is strong, magnetic. It forces Wei Ying to look at him, to really look at him, as if Lan Zhan is baring his innermost thoughts and needs Wei Ying to see them. Needs Wei Ying to listen , just this once. “I do not want you to be.”

Then before Wei Ying can say anything back, Lan Zhan pulls him flush against his chest and wraps his arms around him. 

Wei Ying startles a little at first. Then his arms instinctively curl around Lan Zhan’s body. “You promise?”

“I promise, Wei Ying.” A pause, and then, “I do not lie.”

Wei Ying snorts lightly. “There’s a first for everything.”

“That is true. And I would like to experience many of my firsts with Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying’s eyes widen and he pulls back to look up at Lan Zhan. “Lan—”

“Students, make your way over to your assigned section and wait for your names to be called.”

Lan Zhan extends his arm for Wei Ying to take. “Shall we?”

Wei Ying pushes his current thoughts to the back of his brain and snorts up at Lan Zhan. “How cheesy,” he says, but takes it anyway.

*****

Wei Ying does not consider public speaking one of his fears. He’s always been good at reading people and talking to them, and those skills have proved beneficial during the many speeches he’s had to give in various classes.

So Wei Ying really does not understand why now, as he walks onto stage, he feels like he’s about to throw up.

Wei Ying walks over to the left side of the stage and takes a seat on the ground. A staff member rushes on stage to hand him his flute, which now weighs heavily in his hands. Wei Ying looks out at the audience, at the hundreds of faces he doesn’t recognize, and wow, he’s really about to hurl.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying breaks his gaze from the audience and turns to face Lan Zhan, sitting opposite to him with a guqin on his lap.

Look at me, Wei Ying, Lan Zhan’s eyes say. Look at me.

Wei Ying does, and he can’t look away.

Wei Ying raises his flute up to his lips. Lan Zhan floats his hands over his guqin. They begin to play, and an explosion of blue and red flashes from behind them.

With every strum of a guqin string, with every blow of a note, the colors swirl, ripple, and pulse. The song begins softly, with every movement of blue and red keeping to itself, flying on and off the screen like clouds in the sky. Wei Ying’s heartbeat is steady during this part, instinct taking over as he plays.

Then the song becomes more fast-paced, more passionate, and the blue and red behind them begin to intermingle. They flash, splatter, and race across the screen, and Wei Ying’s heartbeat mimics those movements. Wei Ying’s eyes gloss over as he stares at Lan Zhan, the music taking him to heights he hasn’t felt before. Lan Zhan gives Wei Ying an encouraging nod, a smile dancing across his lips.

Wei Ying smiles back, feeling more in tune with Lan Zhan than he ever has as they play the last note together.

When it vanishes into the air, they hear applause. 

*****

As soon as their performance finishes, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are ushered off stage to make room for the next duo. Wei Ying is in a daze as they’re led towards a room backstage, his thoughts running much too quickly for him to keep up with.

It’s only when he and Lan Zhan are left alone that he chances a peek at him.

It’s a mistake, because Wei Ying’s throat constricts immediately. Lan Zhan is quiet and still, but his eyes are locked on Wei Ying, and the emotion swimming around in them is no longer foreign and unfamiliar to Wei Ying. For a while, the only noise that surrounds them is the slightly quickened puff of their breaths.

Did you feel that too? Wei Ying wants to ask.

I’m not crazy, right? Wei Ying wants to ask.

“You did great, Lan Zhan,” is what Wei Ying ends up saying, swallowing thickly around a lump in his throat. “So great. That was— Wow.”

“We did great,” Lan Zhan says, taking one of Wei Ying’s hands in his. 

Wei Ying instinctively laces their fingers together. “I was just there, really,” he says, but the words don’t sound right when they leave his mouth. “If you’d done this on your own, it would’ve been just as good. Better, even. I just—”

Lan Zhan cuts Wei Ying off with the gentle press of a finger against his lips. As soon as Wei Ying’s words die in his throat, Lan Zhan pulls his hand back. “Wei Ying, this song…”

“...Is meant to be played by two.” Wei Ying exhales. “I know, Lan Zhan, but—”

“...Is meant to be played with you. ”

Wei Ying freezes. His bottom lip starts to quiver. “Huh?”

Lan Zhan holds Wei Ying’s gaze, steady. “Wei Ying. I wrote it for you.”

“Why?” Wei Ying breathes, the words shaking in the air. “Why would you do that?”

In truth, Wei Ying knows the answer. As much as his brain may be telling him otherwise, as doubtful as it may want him to be, there is really no other explanation for the way Lan Zhan is looking at him right now. There’s no other explanation for the electricity between them these last few months.

But Wei Ying still needs to hear it, anyway.

“Why?” he breathes again. 

Lan Zhan caresses the backs of Wei Ying’s hands with his thumbs. He brings their faces closer to each other, and then with as much conviction as he can pack into a single name, as if it can completely answer the question, Lan Zhan says, “Wei Ying.” And then after a suffocating second, “May I?”

No sooner than he nods his head, Wei Ying feels a hand cup the back of it and pull him forward. All he feels in that next second are Lan Zhan’s warm, full lips on his own.

Oh , Wei Ying thinks, dizzy. He feels like he can no longer tell up from down, because Lan Zhan is kissing him — Oh my god Lan Zhan is kissing me — and what reason do people have to kiss others if not that they like them — Oh my god Lan Zhan likes me —  and holy shit, Lan Zhan is such a good kisser — Oh my god he’s such a good kisser — and Wei Ying needs to kiss him back. 

Wei Ying fists Lan Zhan’s shirt in his hands and kisses him so deeply he sees stars, which is another romantic comedy cliche that Wei Ying used to laugh at, but fuck, he’s definitely not laughing now. He can’t, not with the way Lan Zhan is twisting his fingers into his hair and pulling him impossibly closer, and not with the way he’s swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan mumbles against his lips, voice ragged and deep. Wei Ying suddenly loves his name a lot more. “Wei Ying.”

“Yes,” is all Wei Ying has the ability to reply back with, the word muffled by their kiss. “ Lan Zhan, yes .” And then he’s grabbing Lan Zhan’s tie and pulling him even closer.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. When oxygen has completely left their lungs, they disconnect their lips with a small pop . Wei Ying pants and tries not to focus on Lan Zhan’s lips, red and glossy.

Then a flood of emotions rushes through Wei Ying. He takes Lan Zhan’s face between his hands. “Lan Zhan. I like you. I like you so much, holy shit,” Wei Ying begins, his voice cracking embarrassingly. “You don’t even— You don’t even understand how much I think about you, and you make me so happy, I swear, I’m so happy when I’m with you.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen minutely, and at the small tremble of his lips, Wei Ying can’t help but blurt even more of his feelings. “I lucked out, being your partner. Like, we’re seniors, I was supposed to be so burnt out but I wasn’t because every week I got to talk to you. Every week you made me smile and laugh.” Wei Ying exhales shakily. “I adore you, Lan Zhan, I don’t know how to begin to explain— I just— I’m rambling, you need to hurry up and kiss me or something or else I won’t shut up, I—”

Lan Zhan gently takes Wei Ying’s chin between two fingers and presses their lips together again. The kiss is slow this time, punctuated by an onslaught of chaste pecks.

“Okay,” Wei Ying murmurs when they break apart again, his head swimming in the best possible way. “Got it. Message received. I’ll shut up.”

“I do not want you to shut up,” says Lan Zhan earnestly. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

It takes everything Wei Ying has not to collapse. “Oh.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan gives his hands a squeeze. “I want to see the world with you, Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying feels a prickling heat in his eyes. “Lan Zhan—”

“I love you in a way I have never and will never love anyone else,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I will be happy regardless of whether you want to venture alone or not, because this is your life, and your dream.” Lan Zhan smiles. “But I will admit that I would not be opposed to the idea of discovering ourselves together,” Lan Zhan continues, and then true to his character, follows up with, “If you want.”

Wei Ying chokes a little. “If I— If I want? Lan Zhan, did you not just listen to a word I said?”

Wei Ying then decides that words alone aren’t enough. He grabs Lan Zhan by the tie again, pulls him in, and kisses Lan Zhan again, and again, and again, until every group has performed and everyone is called back onto stage for a final round of applause.

They get an A on their project.

*****

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan have successfully graduated. Now, on the day before their departure to travel the world, they’re having a small gathering with the people in their lives.

Jiang Yanli brings over a pile of new clothes because, “My A-Ying has to be well-dressed in every country he visits.”

Jiang Cheng brings over nothing because, “Why the fuck do you get a present for leaving us?” But then he hugs Wei Ying, and he sniffles and cries a little, and Wei Ying hugs him back.

Lan Huan brings over a gentle smile and well wishes. 

Lan Zhan steps away from everyone else to talk to him, and Wei Ying follows. “How is Uncle?”

Lan Huan laughs. “He is doing well. We had a conversation this morning, and he was telling me that he’s very proud of you, A-Zhan. That you’re going to do great things with your music.” Lan Huan places a hand on Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “And also that he would like you to stop by later today so he can properly see you off.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes glimmer wetly. “I will. Thank you, Brother.”

Lan Huan smiles. “If you’d like to thank me, maybe you could go grab me a bottle of water?”

Lan Zhan nods and immediately turns to head for the kitchen. Wei Ying wipes a fake tear from his eye. “Don’t you just love when families get along?”

“It is quite heartwarming,” Lan Huan laughs. And then, in a quieter voice, “Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying blinks at the shift in tone. Nerves pool in his stomach. “Yes?”

A beat of silence.

“Take good care of my brother,” Lan Huan finally says with a gentle smile. 

Wei Ying laughs. “I think he’ll be the one taking care of me, but of course.” Wei Ying pulls out his phone. “Maybe you can give me your number in case I need to call you?”

Lan Huan’s eyes glint with amusement. “You should already have it.” 

“I should—? Oh,” Wei Ying breathes as everything clicks into place.

Lan Huan places a hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder, gives it a little squeeze, then turns to walk away. Just like that, the conversation drops.

Wei Ying feels a set of arms circle his waist from behind a moment later. He laughs at the kiss that presses itself against his neck. “Lan Zhan, aren’t you supposed to get your brother water?”

“I already gave it to him,” says Lan Zhan. “Now I want to spend time with Wei Ying.”

“You’re going to be spending too much time with me pretty soon,” Wei Ying snorts, and turns in Lan Zhan’s arms to face him directly. “This gathering is a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”

Lan Zhan hesitates before he answers. “A little.”

“Mhm. I knew it.” Wei Ying places a kiss on the tip of Lan Zhan’s nose, then takes one of his hands in his. “Lan Zhan, you don’t need to pretend for my sake. We can be honest with each other. About anything.” 

“...Anything?”

“Anything,” Wei Ying echoes, then presses a gentle kiss to the inside of Lan Zhan’s wrist. 

Lan Zhan exhales softly. “In that case, I have something to tell you.”

“Is that so?” Wei Ying smiles at him. “I’m all ears, then.”

Lan Zhan swallows thickly.

“I hate spicy food.”

*****

Two weeks later, Lan Zhan posts to his social media a picture of him and Wei Ying kissing atop a waterfall, their lips curved into bright, permanent smiles.

1083 likes
HanguangJun Memory.
View all 135 comments.
TwinJade :)
JCheng i even have to see this shit online
          YillingP replied: dont be jealous jiang cheng
                    JCheng replied: who the fuck is jealous
                              YillingP replied: im going to tell lan zhan to post more of our kisses
                              YillingP replied: maybe other stuff too
                                        JCheng replied:  i will LITERALLY gag
                                        HanguangJun replied: Wei Ying, no.

*****

syn·es·the·sia

/ˌsinəsˈTHēZHə/

noun: synaesthesia ; noun: synesthesia

the production of a sense impression relating to one sense or part of the body by stimulation of another sense or part of the body.

One sense with another.

Sound and sight.

Music and colors.

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying.