Chapter Text
Lan Zhan preferred quiet, preferred order. Ultimately, he preferred the library. But he did not have much time between class and an advisor meeting and there was something about the way the common room in the dorm had looked, the soft afternoon light and a view of the trees that had turned vibrant and colorful with the changing season, that made him set out his books and start taking some notes.
There was beauty in the stillness. It allowed him to assess his work, to take inventory, to organize his thoughts.
But this satisfaction was short-lived, interrupted by an intense banging that was now echoing down the hallway. The disturbance was followed by thumping and yelling, enveloping his tranquil spot with a general climate of chaos and destruction.
Lan Zhan pinched his nose and rubbed the tension between his eyebrows. Not everyone in the dorm had the same priorities as Lan Zhan. Not everyone thought that the primary reason to go to Miller was to study, to gain knowledge, to better themselves. Some appeared to be on a four-year long vacation: destination - nowhere.
Lan Zhan had known better. He should not have stopped here, but for some reason he followed his impulse. Nothing good ever came from following his impulses.
He was considering packing up his notebook until Mianmian slumped down at the table across from him.
“Hey, Lan Zhan. How’s the thesis going?” She asked. There were bags under her eyes, as though she had not slept much, and her hair was thrown in a ponytail, with strands falling down. Lan Zhan suspected she had pulled another all-nighter.
“Fine,” he said, looking back down at his work. Most people would find his demeanor rude, but he and Mianmian had known each other for the last four years and since she still spoke to him, he presumed she had gotten used to it.
He put down his pencil and rubbed his hands, the side of his finger sore from holding it for too long.
“You know, they make these things called computers now,” Mianmian remarked. “They really help with the whole hand cramp situation.”
“Mmmm,” Lan Zhan responded. “But writing helps me think better.”
“You’re stubborn,” she said. Mianmian picked up her bag and took a plastic package from it. She pulled out a long string of licorice and began ripping it apart with her teeth.
“Mianmian, that is not even food,” he said.
“That’s what you always say,” she shot back. “You only eat things you can share with rabbits.” She looked down at his papers sprawled across the table. “Are you coming to The Post meeting tonight?”
The banging from the hallway had been replaced by loud cackling laughter. Mianmian craned her neck to see who was making the noise behind him.
Lan Zhan did not look. He knew that laugh. He knew it was Wei Ying.
“I promised the Editor-in-Chief I’d assist with the next issue,” he said, determinedly ignoring the noise.
“Yes, you did,” she said, smiling, pleased at Lan Zhan’s use of her official title. She worked hard for it and it was well-deserved, so Lan Zhan didn’t mind indulging her a bit.
His phone buzzed. Lan Zhan glanced at the screen and let out a sigh.
"Your uncle?" Mianmian guessed. Very few people texted Lan Zhan and only one of those made him sigh.
He nodded. "He has found another promising young woman for me to meet. This time from the Wen family."
Mianmian made a sympathetic face, but before she could reply, they were interrupted by loud shuffling and another roar of laughter outside the common room.
“Oh, oops, sorry,” Wei Ying loudly apologized as he and Nie Huaisang stumbled into the room. Their arms were full of all kinds of odd objects - a pile of newspaper, some tape, scissors. His hair was ruffled, his shirt pulled so his shoulder was a bit exposed, likely from scuffling with Nie Huaisang. They were like feral animals, always pushing and wrestling.
“What are you two up to?” Mianmian asked, shaking her licorice at them.
They both made the most annoying stifled laugh sound. “Nothing, really,” Wei Ying said. “We’re just making Jiang Cheng a surprise.”
“Juvenile,” Lan Zhan commented, not looking up from his work.
“Hey, Lan Zhan, have a little fun every once in a while! What are you two wild kids doing?”
“Work.”
“Riveting. Tell me more.”
“No.”
“Sheesh, tough crowd,” Wei Ying said, scooting over to Mianmian and slyly taking one of her pieces of licorice. She gave him her you’re such a sneaky shit look and then pushed the package toward him.
Nie Huaisang pulled on Wei Ying’s shirt sleeve. “Jiang Cheng’s gonna be out of class in an hour. Let’s go!”
“Alright, alright,” Wei Ying said, waving his acknowledgement. He snatched another piece of candy. “Lan Zhan, I am going to show you how to have fun someday,” he said waving the second piece of licorice toward him.
Lan Zhan highly doubted it.
Apparently the two children had newspapered Jiang Cheng’s door shut because Lan Zhan could hear him swearing and yelling at them about it down the hallway, while the two of them cackled.
How could any of them even be passing their classes? He never saw either Nie Huaisang or Wei Ying do any actual work. They were insufferable.
A knock came on his door and Mianmian was standing there in her coat. “Ready?”
“Mmmm,” he said, grabbing his own coat and shutting off his light.
“How are you working with all that racket?” Mianmian asked, pointing down the hallway to what sounded like a herd of elephants wrestling.
“I am not,” he admitted. “I do not understand how they are not failing out of school.”
“Oh well, you know, Wei Ying is, like, crazy smart,” Mianmian said. “He probably did all his work and is completely bored.”
Lan Zhan scoffed. “That is not possible.”
“No, Lan Zhan, it’s totally true. I am in Stochastic Calculus with him and one day, he fixed the teacher’s proof. You should have seen Professor Porter’s face. He was mortified.”
Lan Zhan frowned, full of disbelief. Anything he had seen of Wei Ying had been foolishness and playing games.
“I think he spends a lot of time in the maker space just designing and making things. He was telling me about it the other day. He does a lot of tinkering and maintenance on the 3-D printers there. I’m telling you, the kid’s smart.”
Lan Zhan could not continue to try to compute this information. “We will be late, Editor, we should go.”
Lan Zhan had planned for a quiet night. The dorms were relatively deserted over the holiday break. If students stayed, most did so for a campus job or to work on their thesis, as Lan Zhan had. He had not expected a party. He had not expected Wei Ying.
“Hey, Lan Zhan!” he called out, Lan Zhan tried to slip by the crowd in the hallway and into his room. “Where are you going? Come join the fun!”
He pursed his lips, knowing full well that his and Wei Ying’s ideas of fun were completely different. Lan Zhan would rather go to the dentist than stay at this party. But either Wei Ying did not hear his reluctance or just did not care, because he grabbed Lan Zhan by the wrist and dragged him into the common room.
“Where did all these people come from?” Lan Zhan asked. He did not even think there were this many people left on campus.
“Oh, here and there,” Wei Ying said, whooshing his hands around, indicating the guests arrivals from far-flung places. He said it slowly, as though he had to focus on each word to articulate it correctly. Wei Ying was clearly drunk. “Would you like a drink?” he asked, his mouth relaxed and smiling. His eyes were glazed, but there was still a light behind them.
“I do not drink. And I have work to do,” Lan Zhan said, doing his best to move toward the door.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying groaned. “It's New Year’s Eve! How can you work?”
Wei Ying would never understand. He was carefree and breezy, using his face to get him out of any real responsibilities. With a sense of smug satisfaction Lan Zhan said to him in Chinese, “My fear is that I've just been marking time.” It was not fair. It was not in English. It was also a reference to a New Year’s poem, a commentary on the importance of time. Lan Zhan knew even if he was able to translate it, Wei Ying likely would have no idea of his meaning. A line drawn between them.
Wei Ying just rolled his eyes at him. With this Lan Zhan had reaffirmed what they both already knew. That they were different. They did not belong in the same room together, let alone the same orbit.
Wei Ying swayed a bit and picked up a shot glass off the table next to them. Lan Zhan froze when Wei Ying put his hand on his shoulder, using Lan Zhan to steady himself, as he stepped up on the table. He held up the glass in the air and shouted in Chinese:
"A mountain range in panorama becomes a peak from the side. Far, near, high and low, with no two alike. I do not know the true face of Lushan Mountain; Only because I myself am in the mountain."
The rest of the room stopped and looked at Wei Ying. He held up his glass and yelled, now in English again, “To the Mountain!” and took a shot.
“You should heed the wise words of Su Shi, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, his smile blaring at him.
Lan Zhan blinked at him. His mind had ground to a halt. He could not believe Wei Ying had recognized the poem he had been quoting and then had the audacity to recite a different poem by the same poet, one that warned Lan Zhan of the dangers of prejudice. Him. Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan could not believe how brazen he was, how completely and utterly childish, how ridiculously...impressive. It was infuriating.
Wei Ying poured himself another shot and licked his lips. “Hey, Lan Zhan, so you like poetry huh? Want to go read some poetry with me? I have some really interesting stuff in my room. I’d love to show it to you.”
Lan Zhan froze. He had no idea what to do. Running did not appear to be an option. On impulse, he grabbed the shot glass from Wei Ying’s hand and downed it in one gulp.
“Whoa, whoa, Lan Zhan, I thought you didn’t drink?” Wei Ying asked, his words a bit slurred now.
“I do not,” he said and then everything went dark.
When Lan Zhan came to his senses, he was leaning back on the couch in the common room, his legs splayed out indecently. Wei Ying was above him, patting his face. “Lan Zhan, hey, wake up. You’ll miss the countdown.”
The room was still completely packed with people, but they all were now swaying back and forth. Or maybe it was Lan Zhan that was swaying. Everything moved like it was in slow motion underwater. His body was light, buoyant.
Wei Ying looked angelic, the overhead light surrounding him in a halo, making him iridescent.
“Wei Ying, you must teach me more poetry,” Lan Zhan said, bolting up right and grabbing a hold of him.
“Are you sure Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked. “We’ll miss the ball drop.”
“Wei Ying, you promised.”
“I wouldn’t so much call it a promise as an offer, but fine, fine. Let’s go to my room.”
They walked down the hall together. Lan Zhan was bursting with energy. He wanted to move, he wanted to break free. He wanted to step outside himself. He stopped at Huaisang’s room and wrote a note on the dry erase board on the door and continued on down the hallway.
“Lan Zhan, did you just write a dirty limerick on Huaisang’s door?”
“You should not make up stories, Wei Ying,” he said and grabbed Wei Ying’s wrist.
“Unbelievable,” Wei Ying muttered, but increased his pace to keep up with Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan waited while Wei Ying unlocked the door, pushing it open and stumbling into his room. Lan Zhan followed, and immediately pawed at Wei Ying’s belongings. His room was complete chaos. He had so many different interesting objects strewn about - all pieces of Wei Ying laid out to evaluate. A Chinese poetry book. An English one too. A number of tools. Many pieces of equipment. Bright colored spools of plastic. Design paper. Underwear. Lan Zhan practically tripped when he saw the last item, the image of Wei Ying wearing them, or rather taking them off, throwing him off kilter.
“Ah, it’s almost midnight,” Wei Ying remarked, sitting down on his bed. Lan Zhan stumbled over and sat down next to him.
“Then we must kiss,” he said. It was only logical. People celebrated New Year’s Eve by kissing at midnight. Lan Zhan saw it on movies and television all the time.
Wei Ying blinked back at him. “Lan Zhan, what are you saying? Are you crazy? You hate me.”
“It’s the rules, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said adamantly, doing his best to not let Wei Ying’s beautiful face distract him.
“Who says, Lan Zhan? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Lan Zhan was displeased. “Wei Ying, you shouldn’t break the rules.”
“Ok, fine, fine. If it means that much to you, we can kiss. Jeez,” Wei Ying said, turning to face Lan Zhan. He licked his lips and moved them around as though he was loosening up for some sort of physical exertion. The movement stirred something that Lan Zhan could not process.
Lan Zhan also turned his body toward Wei Ying, unsure of what to do next. He knew what was supposed to happen, but he did not know how to go from sitting next to one another to kissing. It should not take much, but for some reason in that moment it felt like there was a chasm between both. It was as if he could not continue to be Lan Zhan sitting next to Wei Ying and become Lan Zhan kissing Wei Ying at the same time. Both were not possible.
Wei Ying let out a frustrated groan and leaned forward, his lips full, but light on Lan Zhan’s. Lan Zhan tensed at first. It had been his suggestion, but he had no idea what to expect. He had never kissed Wei Ying before. He had never kissed anyone. He did not fully understand the mechanics of it.
It was awkward and messy at first, but it did not take long before he only felt warmth and aching and wanting.
And that was when it snapped. All the restraining and the controlling. All the being careful and the consideration. All the holding back. He lunged toward Wei Ying, pushing his back flat on the bed.
“Lan Zhan, what the-?” Wei Ying started, but Lan Zhan put his lips back on Wei Ying’s, stopping his words. As Lan Zhan kept up his work, sucking on Wei Ying’s bottom lip, he seemed to respond to Lan Zhan’s determination and let down his guard. “Lan Zhan, are you sure this is what you want? We're both kind of trashed.”
“I need to lick your neck, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said with all seriousness.
Wei Ying let out a low, “Oh fuck,” as Lan Zhan slid his hands all over Wei Ying’s body. “Okay, okay. I am a weak man, Lan Zhan. If that's what you want,” and before he could finish Lan Zhan had his tongue in Wei Ying’s mouth.
Everything was fuzzy, but still electric. He wanted to touch every inch of Wei Ying’s body. He wanted to hear him cry out.
He involuntarily thrust against Wei Ying, the friction was thrilling. Wei Ying groaned. “Fuck, Lan Zhan, your cock is so hard. Ungh. Mmm. Where did you learn to move like that?”
“Too much talking,” Lan Zhan responded, silencing Wei Ying with his mouth. Lan Zhan tore at Wei Ying’s clothing and unzipped his pants.
“Holy hell, Lan Zhan, how did your fingers get so fast?” Wei Ying said when they both came up for air, eyes wide. Wei Ying with his idiotic smile and his annoyingly full lips. Lan Zhan wanted to bite them.
He leaned over him and whispered in his ear, “It’s a natural ability. Let me show you.”
Lan Zhan then found the waistband of Wei Ying’s underwear and slipped his hand inside. Wei Ying arched his back and moaned. Lan Zhan watched Wei Ying move for a bit, licking his lips, his cock aching in his pants.
“Oh my god, Lan Zhan, I really didn’t think you could stand being in the same room with me let alone be willing to jerk me off. Holy shit.”
“Wei Ying, shut up,” Lan Zhan insisted as he leaned in to suck Wei Ying’s neck.
“Jesus, what do you expect, Lan Zhan? This is so hot. How am I supposed to be quiet about it? How about you stop being so fucking sexy?”
Lan Zhan pulled up and looked down at Wei Ying. They had their hands all over each other's bodies, but still, Wei Ying calling Lan Zhan sexy did something unexpected.
“Show me then,” Lan Zhan said, still looking down.
“What?”
“Your blathering is distracting. If you need to express something, show me. Touch me.”
Wei Ying’s jaw dropped. He blinked up for a moment at Lan Zhan like he was computing what he had said, the both of them still buzzing. And then Wei Ying’s hands were solidly down Lan Zhan’s pants and his lips were on his throat and holy fuck, Lan Zhan could come at any moment.
Their kissing was sloppy. Their tongues licking, their mouths sucking, their lips working all over one another’s skin. Lan Zhan was starving for every bit of contact, every second of Wei Ying’s touch.
At first, Wei Ying stroked Lan Zhan’s cock slowly, tentatively, but as Lan Zhan intensified his motions, so did Wei Ying. Lan Zhan groaned at the touch and Wei Ying let out a satisfied hum. Wei Ying’s noises will be the death of him.
Lan Zhan could feel his whole body starting to tense, getting ready. He could not believe how impossibly amazing this all felt. He didn’t want it to end, but the anticipation was madness. Wei Ying began making high pitched noises that sounded almost like sighs. It made Lan Zhan want more.
With a few more solid strokes, Lan Zhan’s hand was suddenly hot and wet. Wei Ying was arching his back again, letting go with a loud “Fuck, Lan Zhan.”
Watching that was the end of Lan Zhan. He came hard, falling onto Wei Ying, unable to hold himself up in the face of the intensity of his orgasm.
Wei Ying laughed and patted Lan Zhan’s head. “Good boy,” he said.
Lan Zhan rolled his eyes at Wei Ying but he doubted he could see it in the dark. He was so infuriating. He just couldn’t stand not having the last word, even in this circumstance. He rested his hand over Wei Ying’s mouth and said, “Quiet. Time to rest,” and then immediately fell asleep.
When Lan Zhan woke up, Wei Ying’s arm was splayed across his chest, his breathing heavy. Lan Zhan thought he might even have been drooling. It was 5 am, the usual time he got up. Lan Zhan laid there, pinned, wide awake. His head was pounding. His mouth tasted awful. He imagined he likely smelled as bad. Somehow Wei Ying still smelled good. It was just another reason to be irritated with him. Perfect smell, perfect face, perfect smile. It was ridiculous.
Lan Zhan was unsettled. He wasn’t sure how Wei Ying would react to what happened last night. There was part of him that couldn’t even believe it happened. But he remembered every moment of touching Wei Ying’s body. Yes, it was very real. And Lan Zhan would get hard again if he kept thinking about it.
What he needed most was a shower and a chance to clear his head. He carefully slipped out from under Wei Ying’s sleep-heavy body and gently put his arm back on the bed. Wei Ying grumbled and rolled over.
After returning to his own room, Lan Zhan drank what seemed like a day's worth of water and decided to go for a run. It was crisp and cool outside and immediately shocked him awake.
When he came back to his dorm room, there was a bag hanging from the doorknob. Inside there was a note that said Told you I’d show you how to have fun. Hope these help, WY. The bag had some tea, some vitamin B packets, some ibuprofen and one of Wei Ying’s poetry books.
Lan Zhan sat down on his bed. His insides were twisting wildly, an urge to see Wei Ying welling up inside him. An urge to do other things.
This was all so surreal. No one made him feel more agitated than Wei Ying. How could he feel both furious at him and...this? Lan Zhan couldn’t even name what this was. But whatever it was, it was an annoying, persistent inkling that was gnawing at the back of his brain. Lan Zhan thought it was as unlikely to go away as Wei Ying himself.
His mind flooded with thoughts of Wei Ying’s lips on his body. He couldn’t help it. He was only human. It had felt better than anything he had ever experienced. He imagined Wei Ying coming to see him and laying in his bed with him. He thought about touching him again, feeling his cock in his hands again. Getting to do other things. Lan Zhan stroked himself as he thought about making Wei Ying moan. This was going to be a serious problem.