Work Text:
It was that fucking fucker again, Wei Ying realized, tapping his hand impatiently against the steering wheel of his car and resisting the urge to slam his hand on the horn out of sheer annoyance. Common courtesy stopped him, but it was a near thing, as he watched the white SUV make an elegant turn across the left lane of traffic into the parkade of his sister’s condo building.
While trapped at a red light.
Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, he thought, gritting his teeth. Maybe the second Visitor’s spot would be free, and Wei Ying wouldn’t be forced to try to find a spot in street parking.
He really thought he had it this time, and then out of no where! (the approaching lane of traffic) that fucker appeared.
All careful driving and turning across two lanes of traffic.
The light finally turned green and he was able to drive through the intersection, making a quick turn into the parkade. The frustration was still simmering beneath his chest, the cumulation of over a year’s worth of Thursday evenings fighting for the same parking spot against the same (very attractive) man.
Somehow, no matter how on-time Wei Ying left work, the white SUV almost always arrived moments before he did, making the race so close that the man was still in the process of getting out of his car and walking towards the elevator when Wei Ying turned into the parkade.
Even his walk was elegant, careful, and quick. Wei Ying was pretty sure the man could bulldoze down a crowd with his walk and make it appear refined.
Couldn’t relate. Wei Ying had once fallen down a flight of stairs and dragged 3 other people with him. His competency sometimes butted up with real life and real life won.
x.x.x.
It happened again almost the same way the next Thursday. Wei Ying was stuck at the light and the white SUV turned right from the street bisecting his. It immediately pulled into the parkade, and Wei Ying sat there stuck in traffic, stunned.
Maybe he needed to rework his route to make sure he didn’t get stuck behind this light.
Clearly, the light was the problem.
This time, fortune was on his side and there was street parking right outside his sister’s condo building. He shoehorned his crappy car between two vehicles that had been produced in the last decade, which was far fancier than anything he saw in his own neighbourhood, and quickly opened his door against oncoming traffic and hoped for the best.
How often did people ram into open car doors anyway hahaha he wasn’t Googling it for his own mental health.
The front door opened automatically, and he waved to the doorman as he walked over to the bank of elevators. The doors slid open and Wei Ying was suddenly face to face with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life, of like any gender, all genders.
It was also the guy from the white SUV, which frankly was a tad unsettling. He’d been in a competition with someone who looked like that? People should be giving this man the right away just because his face .
And shoulders.
And like the elegant line of his body, or whatever. Fellas, was it gay to appreciate the human form?
Wei Ying didn’t think so. No one could look at this man and think ‘eh’. He was everyone’s type in a way where he didn’t think anyone would even imagine this man existed until they saw him and went ‘wow, yes’. Wei Ying wasn’t even that into the idea of sex with people and like…
He could tell.
Aesthetically.
Esoterically.
The man was a 10.
“Hi!” Wei Ying chirped enthusiastically, stepping into the elevator.
The man glanced at him. Only for a second.
Hmm.
“So you’re the one I’ve been in deep competition with for over a year over the visitor parking spot?”
No answer.
Hmmmmmmmm.
“I don’t know how you do it, to be honest. It’s been super close the last few times. It’s not like there’s even a five minute difference, more like 5 seconds. Tell me your secrets. It's been like 10 weeks since I’ve gotten here first and I have to know! How are you doing it?”
The man looked at him again out of the corner of his eye but didn’t respond.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
“Have you started leaving earlier? Five months ago we were evenly split, but now,” he shrugged. “I’m leaving work as early as I can without getting fired, so if that’s it I have to concede it to you.”
Maybe the guy didn’t speak English? It seemed unlikely to Wei Ying due to his keen observational skills. Namely, the stack of books on subjects like the critical analysis on Western composers he was holding.
So, spoke English and was smart. Probably. Or was just holding a bunch of books.
“Classical composers, eh? All those talented old white guys, I wonder how they did it,” he said sarcastically. “I always thought it would be nice to have a patron, you know? I could focus on excelling in art and music, and they could pat themselves on the back for cultivating my excellence. I guess these days the closest is a sugar daddy.”
The guy’s eyebrow twitched.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Noted.
This guy wanted to talk about classical composers? Wei Ying could talk about classical composers!
Kind of.
“But here’s a tip, if you’re into classical composers, never ever mention Debussy in my presence.” He shuttered. “And not for the reasons you might think. I would never play the rhyme game with such an important musical figure. Ok, I would. But, but, I once learned about 30 seconds from Syrinx to convince my music teacher in high school that I was taking private flute lessons and could be exempt from her class, and let me tell you that was the worst week of my life. That shit is hard.”
Wei Ying experienced the singular pleasure of having the man’s attention snap towards him.
“Were you?”
“Was I what?” Wei Ying asked, mind going completely blank for a moment while staring into the guy’s eyes. They were a startling gold colour. All his life, Wei Ying would have described gold as a warm colour. He’d been wrong. “Exempt from the class? Yeah. It wasn’t hard. I didn’t have to get it 100% perfect, since my lie was that I was taking lessons, not that I was a prodigy. Room for improvement is encouraged, actually. I just had to be convincing. 75% accuracy or whatever.”
The guy’s eyebrow twitched again, and it occurred to Wei Ying that might be his version of facial expressions. “Taking lessons.”
“Taking lessons?” Wei Ying echoed. “Oh! Oh. No, I wasn’t. I took two years as a kid so I could already read music, and it felt like I’d already put in my time, you know? I’d rather the naps I could get in a free period, and they were stellar naps. It was worth it, for the naps.”
The guy’s stare was unnerving.
The elevator door opened and the guy stepped out. “Bye,” Wei Ying said, waving inanely even though the man didn’t look backwards. “I’m Wei Ying by the way!”
That went well, Wei Ying thought, lying to himself.
x.x.x.
“I met an objectively very attractive man in the elevator,” Wei Ying said over dinner, just to see his sister turn to him with a smile and for her husband to suddenly focus really hard on his peas.
“Oh! I meant to tell you. A few weeks ago a K-pop idol moved in on the eighth floor.”
Wei Ying gasped. “Which one? Was it one of the Stray Kids? BTS?”
“I’m not sure,” she demured. “I believe he’s filming something and was put up in one of the executive suites.”
“My father’s doing,” Jin Asshole said, in a tone that clearly said he wasn’t happy about it. It made sense because even Jin Zixuan knew his father was the biggest Jin Asshole. Then he hesitantly added, “not BTS.”
No, of course not. Jin Zixuan had probably met BTS in person at a fashion show or something. It must be nice to be that rich .
Wei Ying dragged the conversation back on topic, which was finding out what his sister knew about elevator guy. Elevator Guy was going to be all Wei Ying thought about for the next month. “This guy could be an idol. Pretty face, thigh muscles that looked like they could crack a watermelon in half, or, like, hold the weight of 6 other guys in some kind of weird sexually-charged, acrobatic music video dance-off, but he definitely didn’t get out on the eighth floor. It was fourteen or fifteen.”
“I can see if I can find out,” Jiang Yanli promised. “Did you notice anything else?”
“He was wearing like this gorgeous light blue sweater. Maybe cashmere, remember that time I spilled paint on your husband? It looked like it felt like that. Expensive. And when I say light blue, I mean it was like a thought of blue, lighter than baby blue. Then his slacks were eggshell white. I don’t know what he was wearing on his feet, I didn’t look down, but his eyes were like if gold felt like ice. His hair was pretty long and back from his face.”
“Is that all you remember?” she asked, amused.
“He was hard to read. And the most beautiful person in the world. Other than you, of course.”
“You thought he was beautiful?”
“Anyone would think he was beautiful. Even your Kinsey-Zero husband would pause.”
Jin Zixuan looked like he wanted to say something at ‘Kinsey-Zero’ and then thought better of it, which was the second smartest decision he’d made after marrying Wei Ying’s sister.
x.x.x.
Sis:
His name is Lan Wangji. He’s Lan Xichen’s brother.
Wei Ying:
Who?
Sis:
Apartment 15-02.
Wei Ying:
Wait, a Lan? Like the Gusu Lan?
That was one of the most pretentious things he’d ever written, but the Gusu Lan were well respected, and Wei Ying was an amalgamation of the adults who raised him. Jiang Yanli’s mother would have creamed herself to know her daughter would someday be a neighbour of one of the Lans.
(Jiang Yanli’s mother wasn’t dead, but since she treated Wei Ying like he’d never existed, he returned the favour by pretending his siblings didn’t have a mother as an active entity. It made the rare family gathering he was invited to awkward, but no more awkward than it would have been if Yu Ziyuan was alive)
(Wei Ying had attended enough therapy to learn the problem wasn’t always him and he was allowed to be a bit petty about his past. He hadn’t attended enough therapy to be graceful about it. Therapy was a work in progress.)
Sis:
Exactly. Lan Xichen says to use Lan Zhan instead of Lan Wangji.
Wei Ying:
Oh, they’re one of those traditional families.
Sis:
Wei Wuxian.
Bleh, like he needed a reminder.
x.x.x.
Wei Ying rushed up and put his hand in the elevator before the doors fully closed. Jin Zixuan was out of town, and Wei Ying was experiencing the dubious pleasure of being able to use his parking space. It was a pleasure because it meant no fighting over spots. It was dubious because Jin Zixuan was doing him a favour.
He wasn’t sure why he rushed the elevator, except Lan Zhan was right in front of him and Wei Ying tended to give into intrusive urges to stand next to gorgeous men in elevators.
Lan Zhan somehow looked even more intimidating than he had last time. He was wearing a button up shirt, and the material had a faint design right in the fabric - a brocade or something? He’d have to go down a Wikipedia hole reading about textiles later. He knew enough to know something was expensive when he saw it, though.
Wei Ying, on the other hand, was in sweatpants with a mud stain down the side of his thigh and across his knees, because he’d gotten caught in the rain in his normal clothes and then had slipped and biffed it in his backup gym clothes. It was a day. The day was supposed to get better in the presence of hot men, but Wei Ying should have considered the whole mud thing before this moment where Lan Zhan looked at his damp sweat pants and judged him.
Judged him!
And yes, he did look like someone who’d been in a mud wrestling match and lost, but Lan Zhan didn’t know it was because Wei Ying was wearing shoes with no traction. He could have stopped a mugger or something!
“My sister’s apartment is higher than your brother’s,” Wei Ying pointed out inanely, deeply tired of being judged for his clinging, gross sweat pants. Of course, he’d been eating ramen with peanut butter and chili oil in it for the last two weeks just to make rent, so he couldn’t really cast stones against someone who owned a condo in this building, even if it wasn’t the penthouse. He was showing up to free Thursday dinners just to stave off scurvy.
Lan Zhan’s attention didn’t even flicker back towards him. He’d looked at Wei Ying and then immediately turned his attention to the elevator door with the focused intensity of someone who wanted to get off.
“Of course, the building only has two guest parking spaces, so I’m not sure that’s really a win for anyone. Seems like shoddy planning.”
“The other amenities seem adequate,” Lan Zhan responded.
Yes! He’d totally gotten Lan Zhan to say something in his deep, dispassionate voice. “I don’t know. This elevator is taking forever. You’d think something this boujie would be faster.”
“I believe it’s the safety code.”
“Nah, the safety code in a residential building for an elevator of this size and capacity allows for more speed,” Wei Ying made up on the spot based on, you know, his university text books.
“Are you a technician?”
Wei Ying turned to look at him. “No.”
“An engineer of some sort?”
“I sell pictures of my feet on the internet.” He answered with the most ridiculous thing he could think of, because it was easier than getting into that conversation.
Lan Zhan frowned at him - and yes!! that was totally a furrow in his eyebrow - and then glanced down at Wei Ying’s feet. It was like something broke between them, because he could totally tell that Lan Zhan was critically judging his feet, mud-caked Converse and all.
And.
Like.
He defied anyone not to after a statement like that. It wasn’t like Lan Zhan looked inundated with lust or anything. If anything, it said a lot about Wei Ying that he was going to have to unpack in his next therapy session that he’d rather Lan Zhan’s attention on him in a negative way than not at all.
“No, they’re cute, but I was just joking,” Wei Ying said, looking down at his own feet. “Oh shit, maybe I should. Do you think there’s a market for that?”
The furrow was back as Lan Zhan put all of his intense focus back on the elevator door.
“See, I told you. This elevator takes way too long,” Wei Ying said cheerfully as it failed to open for him.
x.x.x.
Jiang Yanli was more than happy to take Wei Ying out for a professional pedicure as a sibling bonding treat, even knowing what it was for.
Best sister ever.
x.x.x.
Wei Ying:
Just FYI for tax season, I have a new side hustle.
BRO:
If it’s OnlyFans I’m not doing your taxes for you. You’ll have to pay a professional.
Wei Ying:
Aww! You think if I started an OnlyFans account I’d be able to afford a professional?
Wei Ying:
That’s so supportive.
BRO:
Fucking hate you.
Wei Ying:
(ノ*゜▽゜*)
Wei Ying:
It’s not onlyfans.
Wei Ying:
(attached image of his well-lit feet)
x.x.x.
Thursday evenings came, Thursday evenings went. The elevator was mostly bereft of Lan Zhan’s pretty face, except for the time Lan Zhan was on the phone having what sounded like a frustratingly circular conversation with customer support somewhere.
That didn’t count.
Mostly.
Wei Ying did enjoy the sound of Lan Zhan’s frustrated voice, which was pretty hot when it wasn’t directed at him.
Ok, lie. It was less hot when it wasn’t directed at him, but still pretty hot.
The point of it was that before the incident, Wei Ying had a contentious relationship with the hot SUV driver who just so happened to be the cold, stoic second heir to the Lan fortune. Wei Ying himself was an orphan waif with ADHD and a shitty third-hand vehicle. They were not the same.
They did, however, want to park in the same parking spot. Parking was a great equalizer or whatever.
x.x.x.
Wei Ying felt a little on top of life this week. He’d made rent, he’d bought groceries that included real vegetables (frozen), real meat (discounted), and even a splurge of the big, expensive bottle of chili oil he preferred and went through like water. He was making the bottle in his cupboard last as long as possible by mixing in the cheaper oil. It was a real Ship of Theseus dilemma for his taste buds and his taste buds said it was not the same ship.
He navigated the grocery store parking lot to his car, feeling a little great that his side hustles had been productive this week. He finished a commission on the furry art site he was on, gained a few dozen followers for the pictures of his feet, and he was starting to think that his Patreon patrons were more than just Jiang Cheng in a trenchcoat.
Then he saw the big dent in the door of his car and it all collapsed.
Fuck.
x.x.x.
His biggest concern wasn’t the side of his car, even though his vanity felt just as dented as his car was. He took good care of the things he couldn’t replace, or, as good as he could with his resources. His biggest concern was that if he brought it in to fix the dent someone would notice the check engine light he’d been ignoring for six months, and then he’d have to deal with that too.
Even if he stepped up the output on any of the sites he was on it wouldn’t cover fixing his car engine.
Maybe he was making a big deal out of nothing. Maybe he could find a guy. Was that how it worked? Wei Ying’s pipeline had been from ‘our housekeeper buys the groceries’ straight to ‘ramen packs have all 5 food groups, right?’, sometimes he had knowledge gaps.
Wei Ying:
What do poor people do when their car is dented? Is there a guy?
Wen Qing:
I have never owned a car.
Wei Ying:
But is there a guy?
Wen Qing:
Take care of it yourself.
Well that was supremely unhelpful. Wei Ying needed more friends who had been raised poor. The Wens were in a situation similar to his, which was why they got along so well, but wasn’t great when you needed to figure out something like this.
How was Wei Ying supposed to remove a dent from his car with his own two hands? There had to be a guy, he just needed to figure out how to contact said guy. Hopefully the guy would appreciate being paid in furry porn or feet pictures, rather than Wei Ying’s last $50.
x.x.x.
Wei Ying bolted awake in bed at 1:36 AM with a memory and a single brain cell.
He could do it himself.
x.x.x.
This was such a bad idea, Wei Ying reflected, staring mournfully down at the dildo sticking out of the side of his car. He’d been betrayed by the internet (in general) and old Vine videos (specifically) once again.
He could wrap his fingers around the shaft fine, that wasn’t the problem, but he couldn’t seem to jerk it off hard enough to pull out the dent in his side paneling. Wei Ying wasn’t known for his weak wrists, ok? It was way more challenging than he expected based on the video compilation he’d watched at two in the morning that had encouraged him to think this was a good idea.
And then in the morning:
- Go out and buy his first dildo. Buying something new really defeated the purpose of the DIY car repair, but he’d already committed to the bit, and the bit was to buy a suction cup dildo for not ass purposes.
- Drive his car and his new dildo into his sister’s parking garage, because as committed to the bit as he was, he still knew it probably wasn’t a smart idea to be waving around a large dildo outside of his own apartment, which was directly across from a school.
- No, it was far better to risk all his sister’s rich snob neighbours seeing it.
- Buy hot water in a coffee shop drive-thru, because one of the videos indicated heating metal helped, and that made sense to him.
- Realize the tea bags hadn’t been left out of the take-away cups when he’d asked for them on the side, so effectively throw three large English Breakfast smelling cups of steaming hot water over his car.
- Regret the bit.
- Fail to pull out both the dent in his car and the dildo, partially because he’d gotten English Breakfast water over his hands.
“Oh no,” he whispered down at the dildo sticking out of the side of his car.
He looked at the dildo.
The dildo looked at him.
He tried pulling at it again only for his hand, now also little sweaty with nerves, to slide right off and hit against the car next to him.
The white SUV next to him .
Shit.
Shitshit.
He wiped his hands on his jeans and then looked up, expecting to make sure he was still alone in the parkade and instead making eye contact with Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan looked… well, his expression wasn’t really giving Wei Ying anything, but he assumed that blank face was Lan Zhan’s equivalent of yelling ‘what are you doing’.
“I’m giving my car a handjob, what does it look like I’m doing?” Wei Ying snapped back at him, feeling a little frazzled.
Lan Zhan didn’t say anything. He stepped forward, wrapped his hand around the dildo, and yanked. Wei Ying’s car panel popped (mostly) back into place, Lan Zhan peeled up the corner of the suction cup seal, and handed the dildo back to Wei Ying.
Their fingers brushed.
It took all of ten seconds.
He then got into his SUV and drove away like none of this happened.
Which - well, Wei Ying was king of ADHD, but he wasn’t prone to dissociative hallucinations, so that definitely happened, right?
And he felt kind of breathless about it.
With relief.
Thank fuck he wasn’t going to have to drive with a dildo stuck to his car until it fell off. He’d probably accidentally take out a pedestrian and go to jail. He’d have to tie a little flag around it to indicate there was an unexpected protrusion from his car, and the only thing he had on him was his hair ribbon. He’d have to tie his hair ribbon in a little bow around the dildo and…
Ok, so maybe he was spiraling a little, he decided, staring at the dildo in his hand. He finally opened his car door, tossed the dildo into the passenger seat, and decided he deserved a big, frothy coffee for his troubles, and went back to the same drive-thru.
x.x.x.
BRO:
Why didn’t you use a plunger?
Because he hadn’t thought of it, Jiang Cheng! His Google searches had been “dildo car door” not “how undent car door.” He’d fixated and now he had to pay the price.
x.x.x.
Getting on an elevator with a guy who watched you fail to pull off a dildo from your car wasn’t embarrassing at all.
Ahahaha.
No, it was fine. Wei Ying had mostly suppressed the whole thing. He’d even found use for the dildo - it was behind his door to stop the doorknob from smashing against the wall. He was now able to wear his least favourite hoodie again, which had been previously doing that job.
Lan Zhan looked at him from the corner of his eye, but continued to look forward towards the elevator door. It occurred to Wei Ying that this was elevator courtesy and not ignoring him.
Also ahahahah.
Why would he think this stranger was purposely ignoring him? It wasn’t like there was tension between them or anything, no tension here.
Wei Ying looked down at Lan Zhan’s hand, the hand which had so competently...
Would feel so good if it just...
-- pressed against Wei Ying’s hip and directed him backwards, and Wei Ying would go so easily for him. The heat of his hand, even though Wei Ying’s jeans would be - and then Lan Zhan would press him against the back panel of the elevator, the railing digging into his ass, and --
Wei Ying inhaled, tightening his grasp around the railing in question, suddenly realizing the direction of his thoughts.
Shit. What the fuck?
He glanced over at Lan Zhan out of the corner of his eye. He was just standing there. Looking disarmingly beautiful.
Wei Ying suddenly flashed to an image of that hand around his cock, so strong, so capable, the broad width of his palm and his long fingers tightening, a grasp that felt like lightning through his whole system.
And he shivered at the phantom sensation, his own hand flexing around the elevator railing as he breathed through his nose and tried to maintain outward control.
What was he doing?
What was his brain doing?
Why was he getting hard thinking about Lan Zhan jerking him off?
Nooo.
Noooooo.
Wei Ying was not having his gay epiphany in an elevator with a Lan .
The slowest elevator in the world.
Wei Ying was not stuck in the slowest elevator in the world getting turned on thinking about Lan Zhan’s hand slow and tight around --
No, fuck.
Bad brain.
He had to... do something. Do something to distract himself from thinking about Lan Zhan’s brilliant and competent hands. “Thanks!” he finally blurted out. “For jerking off my dildo.” NO. “ On my car! For fixing my car. ”
“You’re welcome,” Lan Zhan returned, societal politeness performed adequately.
“I can hear you judging me from there, and let me tell you I probably deserve it. You’re probably wondering why I thought the dildo was a good idea?” he laughed awkwardly.
“I have not given the matter undue thought.”
Savage.
“Yeah, ok, but like I’m going to explain anyway. You see, it was a viral internet thing like a decade ago, and then when some asshole dented my car in the grocery store parking lot and just ditched it, I remembered the hack? And just.” He spread his hands in front of him, which was a mistake because that meant he had to remove his hand from the railing and the railing had become his emotional support tether during this trying time.
Lan Zhan’s gaze was steady on him.
The silence made him desperate to fill it. “And I can’t really afford to waste money on what amounts to car aesthetics, but I forgot that cheap do-it-yourself hacks are only helpful if you don’t have to buy the thing? Right? But like how much could a dildo cost? $15? Let me tell you, I was standing in the sex shop--” he didn’t think Lan Zhan wanted to hear the words coming out of his mouth, which made two of them. “-- and there were $15 dildos! And then I ended up buying a $35 one that was on sale from $75. Like. I don’t know. I didn’t need to be picky because it wasn’t going up my ass, but the suction cup and like the ability to grip just looked better? Bigger? Better! But then I couldn’t manage that myself anyway, and... Good job you were there, and knew how to handle it.”
What the fuck? Why did he say any of that? Wei Ying didn’t do nervous, ok? Like, he spoke a lot of nonsense frequently but he was usually in control of it. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about how Lan Zhan knew how to handle it . Suction cups were suction cups. You could find them in a lot of places, but somehow he just knew . Something in the way Lan Zhan had peeled it off his car spoke of familiarity.
And.
That was a thought.
That was a thought that was going to stick.
He was holding on to the railing in a death grip, trying desperately not to look at Lan Zhan’s hands or wonder if he regularly sat on sex toys. He couldn’t breathe.
His blood was simmering.
Wei Ying was decent at self-reflection, no matter what other people thought. He’d figured out in his early 20s that he didn’t really experience attraction in-situ, and that other people did. Other people got drunk and horny and went home with strangers, and Wei Ying would rather go home with a 20 pack of chicken nuggets. When other people commented on how hot someone was, or that something was turning them on, they were actually experiencing it! He’d spent his teen years thinking it was a vibe.
It was really inconvenient that Lan Zhan was actually turning him on.
Really, really inconvenient.
Why was this elevator so slow? Even though realistically not much time had actually passed, Wei Ying was just having a crisis in high speed.
The elevator opened on the fifteenth floor.
“Bye,” he choked out as Lan Zhan stepped off. The moment the doors closed, Wei Ying’s knees gave out and he slumped back against the back panel.
Holy shit.
Holy shiiiiiiit.
x.x.x.
The BEST part of family dinners was getting to spend time with his sister and his nephew, eating homemade food, and the kind de-stressing that came from spending time with people you like (and Jin Zixuan).
The WORST part of family dinners was when you walked in the door in the midst of your first sexual crisis since puberty (including puberty) and your sister took one look at your face and could tell something was wrong.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
He opened his mouth. No words came out.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jin Zixuan asked, pausing in the entryway to the living room and looking at Wei Ying’s face.
Eugh, even fuckface-incarnate could tell. It was the absolute worst.
“I…” he started. “I just…”
“Come sit.”
“I think I’m attracted to Lan Zhan,” he blurted out. “If attraction is this want simmering in your blood when you look at someone, and you think maybe you’d enjoy it if they just grabbed you and railed you into a wall.”
“I’m out,” Jin Zixuan said, “it’s not good for the baby.”
“He means himself,” Wei Ying said to his sister so he could see her smile.
“That is what attraction is like,” she confirmed, which was ewww. Too much information about her sex life with her husband. “Is he the first person you’ve wanted to--?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Wei Ying said without needing to think about it. If it was something he was familiar with he wouldn’t feel at such odds with his body, trying to put a name to the sensation. There was a small voice in the back of his brain that was relieved about it, and he was trying to ruthlessly push it away. He wasn’t being fixed by wanting to jump a man in an elevator. If anything it was really inconvenient.
He’d never actually had a discussion with his sister about how maybe he was somewhere on the asexual spectrum, in part because by the time he’d figured himself out she was having relationship problems of her own, but mostly because it felt pretty low-stakes. If it happened for him, it happened. If it didn’t, it didn’t. It was exactly the kind of thing he tended to forget he hadn’t told a single fucking person about until he was faced with explaining why his brain was screaming at him.
Jiang Yanli just smiled at him like she knew, with her lovely, patient smile, and put her hand over his. “That’s lovely. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly,” he said, flopping sideways so he could rest his head against her lap.
“Do you want to do something about it?”
“Not particularly,” he muttered.
“It’s ok if you do,” she assured him. “It’s ok if you don’t.”
“Why did it have to be him? He’s so…”
“So?”
“He’s just so... rich.”
“Are you saying that as a negative attribute or are you quoting Pride and Prejudice?”
“Negative. Can you imagine me marrying up?”
His sister didn’t even bother hiding her amusement. “Like I did?”
“If anything, you married down.”
“She did,” Jin Zixuan agreed from the doorway, holding the fussing baby. Totally eavesdropping, what a weirdo.
It would be sweet if his sister didn’t give her husband a look like she was demonstrating to Wei Ying what attraction looked like. Yuck.
x.x.x.
It occurred to him six hours later, in bed and staring at his ceiling, that Lan Zhan was a man and (probably) had a dick in a very practical way. He’d never really thought about men before while in the process of not thinking about anyone.
“Huh,” he said at his ceiling. “Good for me.”
x.x.x.
Wei Ying looked down at the dildo he was using as a doorstop. The dildo looked back at him, still shaking a little from the door hitting against it.
Wei Ying felt his cheeks heat up watching it. It wasn’t innately sexual (ok, it was a fucking dildo, it’s core purpose was to be an innate sexual object, don’t @ him), but he’d already reacted to Lan Zhan’s hand, and now he was staring at this inanimate object, thinking about how those fingers had wrapped around it, so competent. So large.
Oh no.
Oh no.
“I’m going to end up putting this in my ass, aren’t I?” he said to the room.
The room didn’t answer, but he knew he was right.
x.x.x.
How, exactly, did someone put a dildo up their ass?
Lube? He assumed?
No, lube was the answer.
x.x.x.
“Lan Zhan, quick. What lube do you use to put things up your butt?”
Lan Zhan, who rarely reacted to anything, did a full head turn to stare directly at him. It was kind of intense. Wei Ying was super into it.
“I want to use the dildo,” he over-explained. “How do I use the dildo?”
“Absurd,” Lan Zhan brushed off, but there was a flush spreading from his ears over to his cheekbones.
Holy shit. Ok.
Ok.
“Sure, but it’s not really something I was into before,” Wei Ying said, brushing past how “before” was super telling and definitely not the word he wanted to just casually insert in this conversation. Before denoted ‘before I watched you wrap your fingers around a phallic object’ or even just ‘before I met you’. “I don’t actually know anything. Is there a lube that works better than others?”
“Stop talking,” Lan Zhan said.
Wei Ying shut his mouth. Oh. Orders. Was he into that? “Sure thing, just… what’s your rec?”
“Google.”
Ha. That was actually pretty funny. But now he was really invested in using the same lube Lan Zhan used. “Sure, but like... what’s your rec?”
Lan Zhan glanced at him. “I’m sure there are budget friendly options.”
“Are you calling me too poor for your lube? How much can it cost? $20?”
“You have outright stated and inferred your financial situation on multiple occasions. I apologize if I caused offense.”
“No, no,” Wei Ying waved off. “I’m definitely not splurging on expensive lube. It’s just going up my butt, it’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone. I’ll just pick something up at the drugstore.”
Lan Zhan closed his eyes for a moment, like that was the part of the conversation that finally made him give in. Noted. “Give me your phone.”
“Yes!” Wei Ying answered, immediately digging it out of his pocket. He unlocked it and handed it over. He felt wiggly on the inside, happy that he’d convinced Lan Zhan to give him his number.
Lan Zhan handed his phone back. It was open on an info page about anal lube.
Wei Ying stared down at his phone in surprise. Lan Zhan had Googled it for him! Wow. “This isn’t your phone number,” he pointed out inanely, feeling a bit betrayed.
Betrayed by what? It wasn’t like Lan Zhan had hinted he wanted ongoing conversation with Wei Ying, if anything he’d directly told Wei Ying what he was planning to do and Wei Ying hadn’t realized.
“Why would I give you my personal number?”
“Why wouldn’t you? What if I have questions?”
Lan Zhan narrowed his eyes at him.
“Seriously, I’m not even sure I’ll be able to fit the tip...”
“Your inadequacies are not my problem.”
‘Inadequacies’ Wei Ying mouthed in delight. Wow. Lan Zhan was so bitchy (extremely positive). He loved it. “No, you’re right. You’re not my butt guru. I just meant to ask the one question and got carried away. I don’t really have anyone I can ask these things,” he lied, thinking of at least three people he had a better relationship with who would be delighted to walk him through it. None of them gave him that judgy expression he felt in his toes, though.
Oh fuck, self-reflection time, was he getting off on Lan Zhan’s disapproval?
Oh no, Wei Ying thought, reeling backwards until his shoulder hit against the elevator paneling with a clunk. He clamped his hand over his mouth and blinked at Lan Zhan. “Oh shit, I trapped you in an elevator with me and harassed you.”
The elevator doors opened.
“You’re giving yourself too much credit,” Lan Zhan noted, stepping off the elevator.
x.x.x.
Wei Ying opened his mouth and then thought better of it, kind of wishing he’d managed to have that kind of self-control last Thursday. He was surprised to find Lan Zhan in the elevator. He’d been running about ten minutes late, maybe a little on purpose, and expected him to have already arrived.
He’d been counting on Lan Zhan to have already arrived so he didn’t have to have this awkward elevator ride.
Lan Zhan looked at him out of the corner of his eye.
Wei Ying glanced back.
They went on in silence.
Lan Zhan flexed the hand closest to Wei Ying.
Wei Ying eyes focused on his hand flexing, his breath caught a little in his throat, and oh. Oh. Was this Pride and Prejudice? Lan Zhan had a hand cramp and Wei Ying was thinking about that hand gripping his thigh. He wanted it to leave bruises on his skin.
Fuck, he thought, looking at the ceiling. There was an access panel and he thought about grabbing at the edges and hauling himself out of the elevator to escape this whole situation.
It was the most awkward 82 minute elevator ride of Wei Ying’s life. He counted the seconds. That’s literally how long the elevator took to reach the fifteenth floor while he was stewing in inconvenient hormones and wishing his dick would stop thinking Lan Zhan smelled nice, and would smell better on his own skin.
He was going to jerk off to this. There wasn’t any way he wasn’t going to jerk off to this weird one-sided sexually charged elevator ride.
“Here,” Lan Zhan said, pressing the small gift bag he was carrying into Wei Ying’s hand. Wei Ying grabbed it automatically so it wouldn’t fall on the floor. Lan Zhan was out of the elevator and the door closed behind him before Wei Ying realized his intention had been to give Wei Ying something.
What?
He stared down at the bag, then opened it.
Even if he’d taken the time to rationally think about what Lan Zhan might give him, he wouldn’t have concluded fancy lube.
It was...
...exactly what he’d asked for???
What was he even supposed to think besides !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The elevator door opened on his sister’s floor, and he jammed the closed button. He couldn’t just walk into her condo when his face was making whatever expression it was making, something between Shocked Pikachu and horny, while holding a giftbag of lube.
The elevator stopped at the fifteenth floor, revealing Lan Zhan.
The two of them looked at each other in surprise for a second.
“I’ll take the stairs,” Lan Zhan said.
Wei Ying reached out and slammed his arm against the door as it tried to close. “Date me,” he said, a little desperately, and really poorly phrased. Like, he could at least have made it not sound like a demand? “Question mark?”
“Yes,” Lan Zhan answered.
“Oh!” He really wished that didn’t surprise him as much as it did.
Lan Zhan stepped into the elevator. “I will give you my number, now.”
Yeeessss!!
x.x.x.
(the sex was transcendent)
(Lan Zhan had really good taste in lube)