Chapter Text
Mad about the boy
I know it's stupid to be mad about the boy
I'm so ashamed of it but must admit the sleepless nights I've had
About the boy
Mad About the Boy
Helen Forrest 1949
The song lingered in Lan Zhan's mind as he left the music store. His fingers absentmindedly twitching along with the accompaniment, pressing into the stack of books under his arm. It seemed to drift through his thoughts often these days, not just because he was tasked with playing the accompaniment for the spring talent show. It drifted in, day or night, accompanied by a bright smile.
With the memory of the smile flashing through his mind, Lan Zhan’s grip tightened on the books under his arm. With a deep breath he tried to call to mind any other song that would drive the lyrics, and the smile, away from his thoughts. The Star Spangled Banner always seemed to do the trick. Only for the song and his steps to come to a stuttering stop as he rounded the corner.
His eyes were instantly pulled towards the bright cherry red Model A parked along the side of the street. He tried to pull his eyes away from it, but they kept gravitating back towards it. The girls at school had called it cool, a few even dared to call it sexy. His Uncle called it an ostentatious sin wagon, just like its owner.
The thought of the car’s owner slowly got Lan Zhan’s feet to move again. His eyes were able to drift away from the car to search. Not finding him, Lan Zhan let his eyes drift back to the car with a sigh of relief. He found himself wondering what it would be like to ride in it, tucked under the arm of its owner. The bright smile lit up by the setting sun.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” A cheeky voice called out, instantly reeling Lan Zhan in from his daydream.
Lan Zhan’s gaze quickly found the owner of the car and the voice. A lean man bent over to check his greased back pompadour in one of the car’s side mirrors. The grey eyes raised from the mirror, giving Lan Zhan a wink. A sly grin grew on his face as he shifted, leaning back against the car. He rested his elbows in the open window, leaving his hips jutting out.
Lan Zhan’s eyes dragged the length of the man. From the booted feet, up the rolled up blue jeans, a leather jacket worn open, practically hanging off of his form to show the tight white undershirt underneath. Lan Zhan’s mouth suddenly felt dry as his eyes focused on the muscles subtly visible through the white tee shirt.
Lan Zhan tightened his hold on his books, taking a deep breath. He forced his eyes away. As he walked forward, he attempted to return to the only way he knew how to deal with the smiling boy.
Ignoring him.
“Come on, Lan Zhan.” The voice called. Lan Zhan hated how his body wanted to stop, how much he wanted to turn and look at that smile. “Don’t be such a wet blanket!”
Lan Zhan’s knuckles were surely white from the hold they had on his books. It was like Wei Ying had been put on the world just to annoy and confuse him. He hadn’t realized he had paused in his stride to shoot the man a glare until he laughed.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying drew out his name as he pushed himself off the car. The smile the girls called dashing played across his lips. “Do you like her?” He wagged his eyebrow as he planted himself in front of Lan Zhan on the sidewalk.
“Boring,” Lan Zhan leveled back at Wei Ying, stepping to the side to move past him.
“If she’s so boring, why did you stare?” Wei Ying grinned, stepping back into his path. Lan Zhan felt his ears begin to heat with a flush.
“Wei Ying missed school,” Lan Zhan replied to changing the subject. “We were assigned math homework and a history paper is due in two days.”
“Ayiah,” Wei Ying’s finger came up to scratch at his nose. “What would I ever do without my Lan Zhan?” He grinned.
“Fail,” Lan Zhan replied stiffly, gaining a massive laugh from Wei Ying. He tried to ignore the fact his heartbeat had stuttered at hearing ‘my Lan Zhan’. How his eyes wanted to linger on his throat as he threw his head back to laugh. At least he knew his face was as neutral as ever, although from the heat he could feel in his ears he knew those were bright red.
“Then how about I pay you back,” Wei Ying smiled as he rocked forward. “For keeping this poor student in school?”
“No need,” Lan Zhan replied, dropping his gaze to his stack of books as he readjusted them.
“I mean it,” Wei Ying reached out and tugged on the sleeve of Lan Zhan’s sweater. His eyes flew to it. “Ah,” Wei Ying laughed nervously as he let go. He reached up to scratch his nose. “How about I buy you dinner?”
“Unnecessary,” Lan Zhan replied flatly, moving past him. He tried not to imagine spending an entire meal across from that charming smile. Not charming, he tried to school himself. It was annoying. Annoyingly bright and it made Wei Ying’s eyes crinkle adorably. He sighed. His thoughts confirmed how dangerous spending an entire meal, alone, with Wei Ying would be.
“Do you really hate me that much?” Wei Ying pouted.
Lan Zhan resisted the urge to sigh. It would be easier if he hated him. If he didn’t look at Wei Ying and wonder what his lips would feel like on his own. How he’d look pressed into his white bed sheets. How he’d rub his nose while looking over Lan Zhan’s writing, the fleeting moments of seriousness before he made the inevitable joke to ruin the moment.
If only Lan Zhan could hate him. Then he could choke down the plan his Uncle had laid out for him. The job as chief surgeon, a white picket fence behind which a demure wife would welcome him home every night. If only he could look at Wei Ying and not hope for something else.
“How about a deal then?” Lan Zhan was pulled from his thoughts.
“A deal?” He almost immediately cursed his curiosity.
“If you spend the entire night with me,” Wei Ying nodded. “And I can’t get an expression other than annoyance on your face, I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Ridiculous,” Lan Zhan replied before he could stop himself. A bitter taste formed in his mouth at the reminder they weren’t friends. He was just a toy Wei Ying wanted to figure out, to peel back the surface and see how he ticked. The thought of him succeeding made Lan Zhan’s stomach churn.
“Come on, you're such a square!” Wei Ying groaned. “Here. I, Wei Ying, swear that if I can’t get an emotion other than annoyance on Lan Zhan’s face by the end of the evening I will cease interacting with him in any form.” He vowed, holding up a hand, while the other settled over his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” He finished, making a cross over his heart.
“Boring,” Lan Zhan snorted, moving forward.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying called, using the long childish drawl that made his heart skip a few beats. “Do you not want a chance to get rid of me?”
Lan Zhan came grinding to a stop again. Without Wei Ying’s constant prodding into his life there was a chance he could get the urges and daydreams under control. A chance they could fade into something he could ignore for the rest of his life. At the same time, the thought of not having the dazzling smile greet him in the morning or teasingly call his name caused his heart to ache.
The ache would dull with time, wouldn’t it? Lan Zhan thought to himself as he turned back to Wei Ying. He saw the sly smile grow into something larger. With a bounce in his step, and whistling a jaunty tune, Wei Ying moved back to the car. He pulled open the passenger door, leaning on it with a wink. One last tightened grip on his books and Lan Zhan was walking towards the obnoxiously red vehicle.
“Don’t give my baby that look,” Wei Ying pouted as he closed the door before Lan Zhan could. His fingers lingered on the interior of the door, wondering how many girls Wei Ying had done that for.
As Wei Ying smiled at him, Lan Zhan couldn’t help but wonder how similar this was to a date. He quickly pushed the thought from his mind. This was not a date, this was one of Wei Ying’s stupid bets.
“Don’t treat me like one of your dolls,” Lan Zhan huffed, leveling a glare at Wei Ying through the open window.
“Dolls?” Wei Ying laughed. “The only doll in my life is Chenqing.” He smiled, patting the side of his car affectionately. Lan Zhan’s eyes followed him as he moved around the front of the car. Before falling with an elegant grace into the driver’s seat.
“Then you shouldn’t flirt if you don’t mean it,” Lan Zhan huffed.
“I can’t help it if being nice gets mistaken for flirting,” Wei Ying pouted.
Lan Zhan glared at him. If Wei Ying didn’t flirt with every girl he met, Lan Zhan would put his hair into one of those ridiculous greased up pompadours himself. Chenqing roared to life, the sound of a purr of an engine and the static of the radio crackling to life. It faded into the middle of Rock around the Clock , the tell tale whine of an electric guitar that was only becoming more common.
“Do you like her?” Wei Ying grinned, noticing Lan Zhan looking at him. “I did all the work on her myself. She’s a Model A Ford, but I souped her up with a Lincoln motor.” He swung the car out of the parking space, haphazardly producing a cigarette from his jacket as he did.
“Wei Ying, drive properly,” Lan Zhan gritted out as his hand gripped the side of the car. It was taking most of his control not to lean over and grab the steering wheel, as Wei Ying’s antics were causing the car to swerve.
“Cool it, I know what I’m doing.” Wei Ying waved him off. He let the cigarette dangle from his lips as his hand went digging in his leather jacket. The silver chrome of his lighter flashing as he pulled it out.
The moment Wei Ying’s other hand lifted off the steering wheel, Lan Zhan’s body was moving on its own. The chrome felt cool against his fingers as he snatched it.
“Lan Zhan!”
Lan Zhan only leveled a glare, realizing he’d gone too far to turn back. He slid closer on the bench seat, flipping open the lighter. The flint wheel felt rough against Lan Zhan’s thumb as he fumbled with it. His ears heated as he saw the grin form around Wei Ying’s cigarette. Thankfully, Lan Zhan got the lighter to catch.
Unfortunately, it meant he got an up close look at how Wei Ying’s lipped around the end of his cigarette. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked ever so slightly. The tip of the cigarette flared orange as it caught, the smell of the smoke snapping Lan Zhan out of his trance.
Lan Zhan flipped the lighter closed. This was not an opportunity to gawk, he reminded himself. This was a chance to get his life back on track. All he had to do was get through one evening. Just one evening and Wei Ying would stop butting into his life. All the urges and dreams could return to a manageable level. Then the rest of his life could go just as his Uncle planned.
“How rude of me, you want a cigarette?” Wei Ying questioned reaching into his jacket.
“They think they cause lung cancer,” Lan Zhan replied bluntly. He turned his gaze out the window. Trying to find something more distracting than the man driving.
“Eh, probably won’t live long enough to die of it,” Wei Ying laughed, tapping off some of his cigarette ash into the car's ashtray.
“They believe new medical practices will extend our life spans,” Lan Zhan found himself saying. “So Wei Ying should be more careful.”
“Is that concern?” Wei Ying grinned.
He turned to look at Lan Zhan, just as Lan Zhan’s gaze moved back to him. The sun sunk to just the right spot, flooding the car with golden light. It hit the planes of Wei Ying’s face, warming his skin in an ethereal glow Lan Zhan had only ever seen in paintings.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan replied non committedly as he hurriedly tore his gaze from the masterpiece in the front seat.
“I shouldn’t expect anything less from the budding doctor,” Wei Ying snorted while taking a drag of his cigarette. “Still haven’t told your Uncle you want to be a writer?” Lan Zhan’s gaze jumped back to him. Finding a wiry grin on Wei Ying’s face, he let out a huff of annoyance. “That was almost a surprised look.” Wei Ying laughed.
“I didn’t expect you to remember something unimportant,” Lan Zhan replied evenly. He shifted the books in his lap, his fingers running habitually along the embossed spine of Leaves of Grass tucked in between his textbooks.
He remembered the day Wei Ying found out he wanted to write. He’d come bounding into the library, snatching the poem he’d been working on out from under him. Lan Zhan had braced himself for the teasing, how he’d turn his private words into a mockery. Instead he’d watched the boy's face melt, a warm smile as he delved into a shockingly well done analysis of the poem. Somehow, the boy had slipped past his walls and they had ended up discussing poetry for the rest of the afternoon. Wei Ying had plunged into a discussion of Walt Whitman, and Lan Zhan felt his mind follow his body's attraction. He’d assumed the other boy had forgotten the afternoon.
“How is what you want to do with your life unimportant?” Wei Ying countered. Lan Zhan found his eyes trailing the hand as it moved to tap off the ash of his cigarette again.
“What does Wei Ying want to do?” Lan Zhan’s mind pulled at anything to get the focus off himself. He didn’t need to get flustered and let something slip.
“Hah,” Wei Ying scoffed, taking a long drag. “Only people with family get to choose what they want to do in life.” He winked at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan regretted his question. “Commies are practically everywhere now, we’ll probably have forces on the ground somewhere by the time I turn eighteen. I suppose the army beats being stuck here and working in a garage.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan turned, his brow furrowing slightly. Wei Ying was far from dumb. His high class rankings, despite the amount of school and homework he skipped, proved that. Lan Zhan had no doubt he could do whatever he put his mind to. He supposed the issue was getting him to focus on something.
“It’ll work out,” Wei Ying waved him off. His gaze staring off through the windshield. “Afterall, it worked for my parents. Right up until it killed them.” Lan Zhan could hear the bitterness in his voice, despite the huff of bitter laughter. His face fell to something serious, almost pensive.
Lan Zhan studied his profile, his heart beating a bit faster. It was moments like these, where Wei Ying’s carefree exterior dropped, that conflicted him the most. It made him feel like he was someone special to Wei Ying, since he was allowed to see him in those vulnerable moments. It made him want to reach out and try to comfort him. It gave him a small seed of hope that Wei Ying would let him. If only he’d reach out.
“Guess the trick is not to die.” Wei Ying broke the moment with a wink in Lan Zhan’s direction. An easy smile came to his face.
Lan Zhan turned his own gaze out the window, stamping down the urges. Wei Ying might be many things, but Lan Zhan doubted he was like him. Maybe if he was one of the pretty girls from school, maybe then he’d have a chance. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the easy smile slide back off Wei Ying’s face. The drags on his cigarette become longer and more pensive.
“Hope you're hungry,” Wei Ying broke through the silence moment’s later as he pulled up to the Nightless Diner.
“Is eating part of your plan?” Lan Zhan questioned dryly. Hoping it would bring back the enthusiasm from earlier back to the man’s face. If these were the last moments he had with Wei Ying, he wanted them to be happy.
“Everything is part of my plan,” Wei Ying winked, spinning his keys around his finger after he pulled them from the ignition. He slid from the car, leaving Lan Zhan to follow him. With a sigh, he set his stack of books on the seat before following him out.
He watched Wei Ying swagger towards the front door, pulling it open and holding it for Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan stopped short of entering, glaring at Wei Ying. The similarities to a date came swimming back to his mind.
“I’m not one of your dolls,” He spoke, reaching out to hold the door.
“Can’t a guy just hold a door open for a friend?” Wei Ying questioned as he caught his reflection in the window. A hand came up to smooth a hair back in place.
“You always have a plan,” Lan Zhan replied, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. It pulled a laugh from Wei Ying.
“Have it your way,” Wei Ying winked. “Of course, everyone knows whoever holds open the door pays.” He grinned as he sauntered in.
Lan Zhan stared at his back for a moment. The grain of annoyance doubled. Wei Ying had stuck him between a rock and a hard place. Either admit he hadn’t taken a girl out on a date, and therefore didn’t know the proper conduct, or take the chance and pay, and find out Wei Ying had lied all along. He wondered how many dates Wei Ying had been on, had he teased them the same way? Lan Zhan shook the idea from his head, he reminded himself this wasn’t a date.
No matter how much a small part of him wanted it to be.
“Coming?” Wei Ying paused as he realized Lan Zhan wasn’t following him. Lan Zhan snapped out of his crisis and followed him into the diner.
Due to the lateness in the day, most of the diner’s red and white booths were empty. The smell of cigarettes and greasy cooking food permeated the room. The black and white linoleum at least seemed to be freshly mopped, the white tables Lan Zhan could see from the doorway sparkling under the lights overhead. It was a far cry from his Uncle’s favored country club, but at least it seemed to be clean.
Wei Ying made a bee line for a booth in the corner, practically falling into it. He splayed out over the booth he slid into, booted feet coming up to rest on the corner of the table. Lan Zhan allowed himself a small sigh, before following to sit on the opposite side. He glared at the booted feet.
“What?” Wei Ying questioned reaching over to pull the ashtray closer to himself. He snubbed out the one he started in the car, before producing another from his jacket.
“Sit properly,” Lan Zhan replied, glancing at the booted feet.
“Worried being seen with me will ruin your goody-two shoes reputation?” Wei Ying laughed.
“No,” Lan Zhan replied. He grabbed a napkin. Using it to brush a piece of dirt off his side of the table. He leveled another glare at the boots they came from “Hygiene.”
Wei Ying let out a laugh, but shifted his booted feet off the table to the booth seat. Lan Zhan brushed the remaining dirt off, before turning his attention to the menu.
“Nope,” Wei Ying grinned, pulling it out of his hands. “I know exactly what we’re ordering. Part of my plan.” He winked. Lan Zhan let out a soft sigh, clasping his hands together and setting them in his lap. Wei Ying settled back into his lounged position. A grin settling over his face as he just looked at Lan Zhan.
“Wei Ying if I get a call that you kidnapped Lan Zhan,” Wen Qing’s tired voice floated into their conversation. She appeared at the end of the table with crossed arms. Lan Zhan looked at the woman, she’d been a few years ahead of them in school. He wasn’t aware she and Wei Ying were close.
“I’m hurt,” Wei Ying gasped. “Lan Zhan is here willingly!” Wen Qing glanced at Lan Zhan with a raised eyebrow. He merely nodded in return, swallowing around the suddenly bitter taste in his mouth.
“I’ll keep an eye out for flying pigs on the way home,” She rolled her eyes as she produced a pen and a pad of paper. “What’ll it be?”
“Two of my usuals,” Wei Ying replied. Wen Qing only rolled her eyes, again, but noted it on her pad and moved off. “I don’t know why she’s so surprised, we aren’t that different.”
Lan Zhan barely covered a snort of laughter. To any one who walked by, they were possibly the most mismatched pair in town. Wei Ying’s clothing, from the beat up leather jacket to the white t-shirt that was by some miracle not stained, screamed greaser. Which, to proper citizens of society, registered as a ‘troublemaker.’
It definitely clashed against Lan Zhan’s neatly pressed grey slacks, dress shirt, light blue cardigan and tie. His loafers were well maintained, still shining from their last shoe shine. As Wei Ying would put it, Lan Zhan dressed like a ‘square’. On the inside? Well, Lan Zhan supposed that was a different case. He was the devient. A plague upon society, prone to perversion and communism if Senator McCarthy and his trials were to be believed.
The smell of his nose hairs burning pulled his attention back to the present. His eyes landed on a bright red monstrosity in front of him. He had a hard time believing it was food, but as he heard Wei Ying’s stomach growl his eyes rose. He watched Wei Ying grab his silverware and inhale the food at an astonishing rate.
Lan Zhan carefully picked up a fork, eyeing the food in front of him. With a bit of prodding he determined it was an omelet. He felt his eyes water just from prodding it. He glanced up at Wei Ying, but he was still focused on devouring the same omelet on his plate.
It couldn’t be that spicey if Wei Ying was practically inhaling it.
Lan Zhan took a bite, feeling his eyes water almost instantly. He fought the urge to cough, quickly reaching out for the water by his plate. He quickly tried to quench the burning sensation, hopefully before Wei Ying noticed.
Knowing him, he’d probably consider reacting to spices an emotion.
“What do you think?” Wei Ying questioned as Lan Zhan set his glass back down. Lan Zhan looked over to see he’d cleared his own plate.
“Mn,” Was all Lan Zhan could manage without giving himself away. The water was not really doing much to aid the fire in his mouth. He watched a smile come to Wei Ying’s face.
“I knew you could handle it,” He spoke as he lounged back against the booth again, taking a large bite out of the toast provided. “They’re about an hour from closing, so they’ve got to get rid of the eggs that’ll be bad by tomorrow morning. I convinced them to add the spices, making it cheap and tasty.” He winked.
Lan Zhan exhaled as he cut another piece off the omelet. He allowed himself a miniscule deep breath before biting down on it again. He supposed the spices covered any eggs that slipped past their due dates. He thought fondly of the bland dinner that would have been waiting for him if he’d gone home.
“Ah, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughed. “Even with that much spice you aren’t giving anything away.”
Lan Zhan could feel sweat starting to creep down his back as he took another bite. He tried pacifying his screaming tongue with a bite of the toast provided. Wei Ying was watching his every movement, waiting for a crack.
“What do you think your Uncle would say if he saw us?” Wei Ying questioned. A mischievous grin crossed his face as he bolted up straight, matching Lan Zhan’s own posture. “Lan Zhan, how dare you take a night off! Those perfect A’s aren’t going to earn themselves!’’ He matched the words with a motion of stroking a beard. Lan Zhan hated to admit the impression was good. “And with that Wei Ying! That do nothing, no good boy is just going to distract you from becoming the next Chief Surgeon!”
“Wei Ying should think better of himself,” Lan Zhan noted. As he spoke, he swore he saw steam escaping his mouth.
“Ah,” Wei Ying laughed awkwardly. His posture slouching. “I was just picturing what your Uncle would say.” He added scratching the back of his head. His gaze fell to the table. His hands methodically stacked his used silverware onto his plate and pushed it to the edge of the table. Lan Zhan somehow managed to finish off the monstrosity and followed suit.
“Wen Qing, milkshake us!” Wei Ying called out to her. Lan Zhan heard a sigh, and in a few minutes two milkshakes were placed in front of them. “They’re vanilla,” Wei Ying noted with a tone of dejection.
“Ran out of chocolate,” Wen Qing replied simply, sliding the bill on the table. Before Lan Zhan had time to return to his earlier crisis, Wei Ying was dumping a fistfull of change on the table. Lan Zhan felt his brow furrow slightly again.
“I can pay,” He noted, producing a dollar.
“Don’t worry about it,” Wei Ying replied. “I’m distracting you for an evening. It’d be rude to make you pay.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan pressed.
“Hurry up or it’ll melt,” Wei Ying nodded, taking a large slurp of his milkshake. A hand reaching out to push the bill closer to the edge, and away from Lan Zhan. Still, he produced a dollar bill and set it on the table, noticing Wei Ying was actively ignoring it.
He carefully picked up the spoon in his milk shake, pulling out the candied cherry and setting it on his napkin. He tried not to focus on the slurping motion from Wei Ying that was taking his mind to unholy places. Carefully, and in measured movements he started his own shake. He picked up the speed slightly when he realized it helped soothe the burning still lingering in his mouth.
“Do you like the cherries, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying questioned, holding his own up by the stem. His eyes flickered to where Lan Zhan had placed his own on a napkin. “I like saving them for last.” He added biting into his.
“You can have mine,” Lan Zhan replied, his gaze dropping back to his milkshake to avoid looking at how the candied cherry had stained Wei Ying’s lips red.
“Want to see a trick?” Wei Ying asked excitedly. Lan Zhan’s eyes raised. Wei Ying reached out, plucking his cherry off the napkin and threw it into his mouth, stem and all. Lan Zhan watched confusedly, but when he went to say something Wei Ying held up a finger to silence him.
After a moment of confused silence, Wei Ying’s mouth opened. A pink tongue stuck out, showing off a tied cherry stem. Lan Zhan found himself entrapped by the sight as Wei Ying plucked the stem off his tongue. He gave Lan Zhan a cheeky grin. Lan Zhan felt his ears flush as he looked away.
“Shameless,” Lan Zhan managed to mutter.
“There used to be a cherry tree outside the Jiang house,” Wei Ying grinned, spinning the knotted stem in his fingers. “We’d compete to see who could tie it the quickest. I always won, of course.”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan replied, returning his hands clasped in his lap. Perhaps the lack of reaction would show Wei Ying it was best to give up now. “I’ll be leaving.” He nodded. “Thank you for dinner.”
“Leaving?” Wei Ying questioned, his brow furrowing. “Lan Zhan you gave me an entire night, it’s still light out.” He huffed. “Don’t think I’ll let you out of this early.” He added standing. He moved towards the door. “Well, come on.” He called.
Lan Zhan sighed, but rose to his feet to follow Wei Ying. Chenqing roared to life with a twist of Wei Ying’s wrist, and he was pulling out of the diner parking lot. Lan Zhan wondered if he almost saw annoyance in his face as he lit up another cigarette.
“Where are we going?” Lan Zhan questioned as they reached the edge of town.
“For a cruise,” Wei Ying replied simply, a hand reaching out to shift the car.
Lan Zhan felt the car surge underneath him, and suddenly the milkshake and omelet were far from settled in his stomach. His hand clutched the side of the car, as Wei Ying only pushed the car faster.
The last rays of the sun tinged the sky pink. In the fading light, lights of other cars out for an evening cruise began to dot the horizon. Lan Zhan’s knuckles turned white as the first set of red taillights rushed into view. He braced for the collision, only for Wei Ying to weave out around the car.
Chenqing roared as Wei Ying pushed her faster. Lan Zhan’s eyes widened as saw headlights coming towards them. Before he could shout, Wei Ying had weaved back into the proper lane. At least until the next set of red tail lights came flying at them. Lan Zhan almost thought they were standing still.
“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan managed to grit out. His whole body was locked in a perpetual state of bracing, waiting for Wei Ying to slip up. He glanced at the road, the lines on the road just looked like dots. “Slow down!”
Lan Zhan’s plea was cut off by the sound of a horn behind them. He heard Wei Ying let out a whoop as a car went flying past them. Lan Zhan barely saw the glow of its tail lights before Wei Ying was charging after it. Wei Ying shifted again, his foot lifting off the gas for a moment. The shift caught, and then his foot was slamming back on the pedal nailing it down to the floor.
Lan Zhan slunk in the seat slightly, gripping for anything in the car. He glanced out the window, his stomach sinking at the decision. He blinked once, twice to make sure. What he had perceived as picket fences, were actually telephone poles.
“Come on,” Wei Ying whooped to his car as he urged it forward. They pulled up next to a Cadillac sedan. Lan Zhan found Wei Ying leaning over into his space, offering a mock salute to the other driver. “I’ve got a ticket to fly boys.” He called.
Lan Zhan somehow managed to hear swearing over the roar of the engines. Slowly, the Cadillac began to inch behind them, and with a whoop Wei Ying was soon pulling out in front of them. Clouding the car behind them in a plume of smoke. Wei Ying let out a cackle as they tore off.
Lan Zhan looked at the man. His hair had been jostled by the wind tearing in through the windows. Pieces of it framing his face. The cigarette almost burned down to his lips, the glowing ember of the end matching the light shining in Wei Ying’s eyes. The fading light of sunset made it look like some sort of manically beautiful painting. As Lan Zhan’s heartbeat a little faster, he realized this had been a terrible idea.
“Wei Ying, pull over.” He gritted out.
“Cool your jets,” Wei Ying replied. “We’re almost there.”
“I said pull over,” Lan Zhan repeated.
“Are you going to throw up?” Wei Ying looked over.
“No,” Lan Zhan gritted out. He needed to get out of this car. Away from the charmingly handsome heartthrob in the front seat before he did something stupid.
“Then you can wait,” Wei Ying snorted back.
He shifted the car again, at least appearing to be trying to get to wherever they were going faster. Lan Zhan let his eyes close, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Trying to do anything to keep the man next to him from worming his way further into his thoughts. The roar of the engine started to fade, the moment Wei Ying cut the engine Lan Zhan was climbing out the door.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying called, he could hear him scrambling out of the car on the other side. Lan Zhan continued walking away. He could hear Wei Ying’s feet clumping after him. “Lan Zhan, I’m sorry! It was just a little race! No reason for you to flip your lid!” He managed to get out in front of Lan Zhan, darting to prevent him from moving past him. “God, I’ve had girls freak out less than you.”
The words stoked a flare of anger in Lan Zhan, combining with the ache in his chest. Always with the girls, why did Wei Ying have to bring them up? Flaunting his ability to feel attracted to them in front of Lan Zhan, like he knew.
The thought froze the blood in his veins. He swore internally running a hand through his hair. Of course Wei Ying had figured it out, he wasn’t stupid. They weren’t friends, isn’t that what he reminded himself earlier? He was just a source of amusement to Wei Ying, nothing more.
“I told you not to treat me like one of your dolls,” Lan Zhan gritted out. A lump forming in his throat.
“Always bringing up girls,” Wei Ying sighed. “If I didn’t know any better, you want me to treat you like one.” He laughed.
The laugh roared through his ears. He felt his nostrils flare ever so slightly as he exhaled sharply. He glanced around, they were on an overlook over the city. A sign in the distance told him they were close to Phoenix Mountain. He felt the anger grow, did Wei Ying think he was an idiot? Or was this his whole plan. Come up here to talk about his conquests? Or merely to rub it in Lan Zhan’s face that he was different?
Either way, Wei Ying was winning this stupid bet. He didn’t care anymore. He wasn’t going to let him drag him around any more. He wasn’t going to be his amusement anymore.
“Haven’t you?” He snapped, turning on Wei Ying. He saw Wei Ying’s eyes widen. “Dinner, a race to show off, Phoenix Mountain.” He pointed. “I’m not so socially inept that I don’t know what goes on up here! I don’t need you mocking me.”
“So I might have brought a doll or two up here before,” Wei Ying’s brow furrowed. “But mocking you? I don’t understand.” He continued. Lan Zhan could only glare, his body trembling with his anger. “Unless, have you never kissed a girl?”
Lan Zhan felt his anger flare. Before he realized it he’d reached out, roughly grabbing the front of Wei Ying’s shirt and pulling him towards him. He felt his eyes close involuntarily as his lips crashed against Wei Ying’s. He felt his entire body surge with warmth, but the feeling of Wei Ying tense against him cut through it like a knife. Lan Zhan came back to his senses, roughly pushing Wei Ying away.
“There’s your proof,” Lan Zhan snarled at Wei Ying’s shocked face. “I’m not going to be your amusement any more. I’m not going to stand by and let you mock me for what I feel.”
He turned, marching away from Wei Ying, feeling the tears forming in his eyes. It would probably be all over school by morning. He’d be ruined. He took a shaky breath, his hands reaching up to trace his lips. He could still feel the warmth of Wei Ying’s lips against his, the way the fading sunlight had lit across his face.
Had a moment of truth been worth it?