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For what might be the first time since their initial meeting, Song Lan doesn’t roll his eyes at Xue Yang who leans against the counter, chin propped on the palm of his right, as he flirts with his boyfriend.
He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something different about the younger man today. And he may not know what the difference is, but he does know it’s a positive difference. He doesn’t know how either, but it's a mystery he intends to solve.
The thought of ‘ maybe he cut his hair? ’ runs through his mind as he busies himself with preparing Xue Yang’s drink — a caramel macchiato with two extra pumps of vanilla, topped with excess whipped cream, cocoa powder, and sprinkles — which in Song Lan’s expert opinion shouldn’t be fit for human consumption but then again, Xue Yang is a completely different breed of human.
It’s routine for Xue Yang to drop by the college coffee shop right before his night classes start, a time which coincides nicely with the end of Song Lan’s and Xiao Xingchen’s evening shift. He comes into the shop, flirts with Xiao Xingchen — who is perpetually stuck manning the counter until Wei Wuxian comes in for the night shift and relieves him of his duties, is given his drink by Song Lan, and finally leaves.
Though ever since they began dating, Xue Yang giving them both kisses before leaving — a small peck on the cheek for Song Lan who’s generally touch-averse and a wet smack on the lips for Xiao Xingchen who giggles every time he receives one — has also been added to the routine.
Song Lan is a creature of habit, one who thrives when there’s a set routine to his daily life. And that is exactly why the fact that something is off irks him. He squints at Xue Yang after placing his drink on the counter, brows furrowing in concentration as he tries to figure out what the difference could possibly be.
Makeup? No, his eyebags still stand prominent against his pale skin and the only sign of cosmetic use is the smudged eyeliner he applies every morning. Accessories? No, it’s just the usual three bracelets on each hand, one ring on his left hand’s index finger, and his choker of the day (Tuesdays mean velvet).
“See something you like, handsome?” Xue Yang winks at him, a cat-like smirk spreading across his face, that little pointed canine that succeeds in making Song Lan go crazy every single time, poking out as his amused grin widens.
“Get out, you’re holding up the line,” he says in response, barely keeping himself from ducking his head beneath the counter to hide the quickly rising blush on his cheeks. (Xiao Xingchen's chuckle at his embarrassment is also badly disguised as a cough, but the effort is appreciated nonetheless, doubly so when Xue Yang coos at Song Lan the same way he coos over the cat that lives near their apartment.)
There is no line. It’s just the three of them in here right now, the evening rush having ended an hour ago and there being more than enough time till the night rush starts. He’s always been far too affected by pretty words from pretty people, especially when he’s dating said people. The wild thumping of his heart against his chest serves as adequate proof of his predicament.
(The first time Xue Yang had kissed him, he actually had hidden his face behind his hands and ducked beneath the counter, the erratic beat of his heart sounding in his ears drowning out his his muffled whine of pure gay panic.
He’d only later found out that Xue Yang had gotten a bit scared of his reaction and Xiao Xingchen had had to take a picture of him to confirm that no, Song Lan’s distress isn’t because you accidentally upset him, it’s because he’s too gay too handle affection from someone as pretty as Xue Yang , as repeated later to Song Lan in those exact words.)
Despite the emptiness of the cafe, Xue Yang actually does have to leave now if he wants to make it to his criminology class (because apparently; to do crime, one must first know the laws relating to crime; as said by Xue Yang whenever he’s asked the reason for choosing his field).
He gives them both their regular kiss, takes his to-go cup in one hand, adjusts the strap of his backpack slung over one shoulder with the other and steps out the door; blowing them one more kiss — Song Lan rolls his eyes though it’s not too convincing considering his red ears and fond grin, and Xiao Xingchen makes an exaggerated action of catching it — before finally stepping out the door, accompanied by Xiao Xingchen’s shout of “Come again soon!”.
“Did you notice anything different about Xue Yang?” Song Lan asks Xiao Xingchen who’s already started removing his apron.
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he says, placing his apron on it’s rightful hook before turning all his attention towards Song Lan, his smile sweet as caramel, “You’ve always been the more observant of us two anyways!”
So he does his best to shove it out of his mind, deciding he’ll just ask Xue Yang when he comes back home. He and Xiao Xingchen head out as soon as Lan Wangji steps in, greeting them with a nod of his head.
By a stroke of luck, he manages to figure it out on his own (actually with his boyfriend’s help but shh! The gremlin mustn't know about this!) before Xue Yang’s arrival.
It happens when he’s rummaging through his closet for a specific hoodie, only to not find it. It’s odd, because according to his clothes rotation timetable, it’s only been two days since it came from the wash; and he distinctly remembers bringing it back home.
He searches the rest of his room as well, though it’s rare for him to mispace anything. Once he’s confirmed it’s not in the room, he pops his head into the kitchen, “Have you seen my gray hoodie? The one with the red stripes on the sleeves?”
Xiao Xingchen brings a finger to his chin, his head tilting a bit to the side, before he lights up, “Ah! It’s probably with Xue Yang! I think he was wearing it yesterday!”
“How come you remember when he’s wearing my sweaters but not your hoodies,” his boyfriend comments with fond exasperation laced into his voice, more than privy to the Song Lan’s lack of usual observance when it comes to himself.
“This has been going on for a week you know, ever since you said you were okay with us wearing your clothes!” Xiao Xingchen carries on cheerfully, a teasing lilt to his tone now.
Indeed, Song Lan does remember confessing that he likes seeing the both of them in his clothes. He also remembers turning into a flustered mess of a human being while admitting to it.
And oh.
Suddenly it clicks, the realization crashing into him with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.
Xue Yang was wearing one of his hoodies. That was the difference that kept bugging at him. Xue Yang with his hair tied up into a high ponytail, the ends splayed over the navy blue of one of his hoodies! That he wears! His! Hoodie!
He promptly sinks to the floor with his heated face tucked into his knees, the sudden mental overload rendering him incapable of proper human sounds.
A hand slowly pats the back of his head and he’s sure that if he looks up, he’ll be greeted by a highly entertained Xiao Xingchen.
(He’s correct, of course. The only addition is that he’s also been taking a video of Song Lan, one which he’ll show Xue Yang as soon as he’s home.)
