Chapter Text
In college, Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan is the most beautiful person Wei Ying has ever seen. Most interesting as well. He is talented, and clever, and funny, and Wei Ying has never met anyone like him.
He is also gay.
Wei Ying has met gay people before. There’s Wen Qing, who is a lesbian, and Nie Huaisang, who claims he is pansexual, whatever that may mean. There were a couple more boys in high school, who dressed impeccably and talked all coquettish and behaved in an exaggeratedly effeminate manner, and in general did everything they could to flaunt it.
Lan Zhan doesn’t flaunt it. In fact, the only reason people know is that one time, a few weeks into the semester, a girl from their year tried to ask Lan Zhan out and Lan Zhan told her, "I am not interested. I’m gay."
She went and told the entire school, which made Wei Ying kind of mad on Lan Zhan’s behalf.
"Aren’t you angry that she told everyone?" He asks Lan Zhan the next time they have a lesson together, as they both exit the classroom. "That wasn’t her secret to tell!"
Lan Zhan ignores him and keeps on walking down the corridor.
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying hurries after him, then turns around so he can walk backwards and face Lan Zhan as they walk. "Should I not talk about it? Are you mad at me? I promise I don’t mind, I can ignore it if you prefer, or I could…"
He wants to offer Lan Zhan help in meeting boys, if he’d like. Boys to go out with. To be boyfriend with. To help find a boyfriend for Lan Zhan. But the thought makes Wei Ying feel warm all over, makes his heart beat a painful and irregular rhythm. He falters. Lan Zhan walks right by him.
"I do not mind." Lan Zhan doesn’t slow down or turn to look back at Wei Ying when he speaks.
"Eh? You don’t mind…?" That Wei Ying is talking about it? That some girl told everyone at their school that he’s gay? Wei Ying hurriedly hobbles after Lan Zhan, feeling, not for the first time, like he could never compare with Lan Zhan’s grace. With how effortless and purposeful he always is.
"I never tried to hide it." When Lan Zhan stops walking abruptly Wei Ying almost crashes into him. "I am who I am."
They’re almost the same height but Wei Ying feels as if he is looking at Lan Zhan from below, small and insignificant and unworthy, stunned into silence. Lan Zhan can just say all these things. He is so brave. So sure of himself. So…
He makes Wei Ying want to be closer to him. To crack that expressionless mask and find out what’s underneath. To have Lan Zhan look at him with admiration, the way Wei Ying now looks at him. If he could just get Lan Zhan to pay attention to him, to really listen to Wei Ying, to see past his annoying mannerism and his loud voice and his stupid mouth that somehow always says the most insensitive things — then Wei Ying and Lan Zhan could probably become good friends.
Friends, or maybe…
Lan Zhan resumes walking just as suddenly as he stopped, and Wei Ying scrambles to keep up with him.
*
"Huaisang." Wei Ying is lying on the bed in his and Jiang Cheng’s dorm room, holding his phone close. "How did you know you were… pansexual. Not straight." Into boys.
"Oh, sweetie." He can imagine Nie Huaisang’s long-suffering expression even without seeing his face. Wei Ying and his nonsense. Here we go again. "I always knew. I cannot imagine anything else."
That’s not helpful.
"But you didn’t always know what pansexual even means, right? You couldn’t have." Huaisang has to sound so sure. But he couldn’t know when he was three years old, when he was ten, right? How could anyone always know? "So how did you…?"
"You’re right that I didn’t always know what it was called," Nie Huaisang says thoughtfully. "But that doesn’t mean I didn’t always know. Ever since I learned what attraction was I was sure. Gender didn’t matter to me; boys, girls, everything in between. I like all of them." Wei Ying can hear his smirk when he says, "Especially everything in between."
"Huaisang!" Wei Ying shrieks, shocked and embarrassed. That’s what he gets for asking Nie Huaisang. It’ll be either "I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!" or the most shameless sailor talk that makes Wei Ying blush. Everyone says that no one is shameless like Wei Ying, and it’s true, up to a point. The point being that Wei Ying has never managed to even ask a girl out on a date, whereas Nie Huaisang already lost his virginity when they were back in high school.
"Whatever it is that made you ask, embrace it." Nie Huaisang advises him. "College is just the right time for experimenting. Go out. Have fun with it!"
"Yeah, maybe," Wei Ying squeaks, and disconnects the call.
That wasn’t helpful at all.
Maybe he should simply ask Lan Zhan how he knew.
*
Wei Ying doesn’t ask Lan Zhan.
He does continue to follow Lan Zhan wherever he goes, pestering, curious, fascinated. He thinks Lan Zhan is warming up to him, just a little. When Nie Mingjue throws a party and Nie Huaisang invites Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng, he tells them to invite their friends, and when Wei Ying asks Lan Zhan to come with him and says, "Lan Zhan, please? We’re friends, right?" Lan Zhan says yes.
The party is loud and fun and loud. Wei Ying is right in his element. He drinks and he laughs and he hangs around Lan Zhan and Lan Zhan only moderately glowers. Then there are party games and somehow Wei Ying gets roped into answering the question of who among the partygoers he would let kiss him senseless, and his eyes find Lan Zhan, taller, prettier, better than everyone else, and he blurts, "Lan Zhan, of course. All of you combined aren’t as handsome as he is."
Some people laugh and fewer people whistle and agree; Jiang Cheng elbows him and tells him to stop being ridiculous. Lan Zhan catches Wei Ying’s gaze over the crowd. His eyes look different. Intense. Golden under the party lights’ glow.
"Mark your words," he says deliberately. Before Wei Ying can respond, before he can breathe out, choked and excited, "Oh, I will", Lan Zhan turns around and leaves.
The party goes on. After a couple of minutes Wei Ying makes sure that the attention is no longer on him, and he slips away quietly, following in Lan Zhan’s direction.
*
The house Huaisang shares with his brother has a little backyard, and that’s where Lan Zhan went. When Wei Ying approaches him he can see the white in Lan Zhan’s knuckles, forcefully gripping at the railing of the fence.
"I’m sorry," he says without thinking, and Lan Zhan whips around to look at him.
"Did you mean it?" The sound of Lan Zhan’s voice makes Wei Ying shiver. Deep. Dark. All that attention, focused solely on him.
Wei Ying swallows nervously. "I did, but…" He doesn’t know what to say. Does it mean that he’s gay, if he wants Lan Zhan to kiss him? Or — he didn’t say he wanted to, only that he wouldn’t mind, if he had to. Although he does. Want to. But Lan Zhan can’t possibly know that. Is Lan Zhan offended that Wei Ying didn’t tell him he was gay after he’d found out about Lan Zhan? "Please don’t be mad at me." It slips out of Wei Ying’s lips pathetically, unplanned. Usually he doesn’t mind it when Lan Zhan is mad at him. Any kind of reaction from Lan Zhan is a welcome one. But tonight… Tonight it scrapes against Wei Ying’s heart, vulnerable and raw.
How was he supposed to tell Lan Zhan something that he didn’t know himself? Wei Ying isn’t even sure if — he’s never liked someone. Not like this. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?
And anyway, Lan Zhan probably isn’t mad about that. Probably he’s angry because Wei Ying hinted that in some world there exists a possibility where he and Lan Zhan might kiss, when in fact, Lan Zhan finds him insufferable.
Lan Zhan takes a step towards him just as Wei Ying’s mouth pulls down into a frown at the thought.
"You meant it." Lan Zhan looks thoughtful. Calculated. He takes another step forward and Wei Ying yelps and jumps back, before Lan Zhan walks right into him. Lan Zhan who loves his personal space so. Who hates it when Wei Ying touches him.
"Am I not allowed to want to kiss you?" Wei Ying breathlessly retorts, and realizes too late that he has given away too much of himself. Lan Zhan’s eyes burn at this, and he takes another step forward. Wei Ying retreats another step. They are angled in a way that means Wei Ying isn’t walking back towards the door, but to the side, his back close to hitting the house’s outer wall.
Lan Zhan takes another step in his direction. Wei Ying can feel the rough shape of the wall through his shirt when he retreats further.
"Only if you don’t follow through," Lan Zhan says.
Wei Ying has one confused moment when he blinks nonsensically up at him, and then Lan Zhan leans forward, trapping him between the wall and his body, and kisses him.
Wei Ying moans. He doesn’t mean to; it’s embarrassing, the sound escaping from his throat and coming out muffled between them. Lan Zhan is kissing him, and Wei Ying doesn’t care what he is or isn’t right now anymore, because it’s Lan Zhan. Kissing him.
He thinks he wouldn’t mind it if Lan Zhan was the only person to kiss him from now on.
Lan Zhan growls, after Wei Ying’s moan. It makes Wei Ying feel all kinds of hot, to hear Lan Zhan make this sound. Lan Zhan slides one hand over the wall and behind Wei Ying’s head, tangling his fingers in Wei Ying’s hair. Wei Ying moans again, louder, and Lan Zhan pulls on his hair in response. It stings. It hurts. It hurts so good.
"Lan Zhan, I—"
Lan Zhan doesn’t let him speak. He mauls Wei Ying’s mouth, ravishes him right there in the Nie brothers’ backyard, and Wei Ying is helpless against it. He never wants it to end.
His dick is growing hard in his pants.
When Lan Zhan finally pulls back Wei Ying barely recognizes the sound that comes out of his own throat, needy, whiny. Mournful.
"Let me take you home."
Lan Zhan’s breath is warm against his jaw, against his ear. Lan Zhan is no longer kissing Wei Ying but he hasn’t left yet, he is close and filling all of Wei Ying’s senses and —
He is biting him. Lan Zhan is biting Wei Ying’s neck.
"Ahhh, I—"
Wei Ying would probably do anything Lan Zhan asked of him right now.
"Yeah," he breathes, pants, as Lan Zhan trails little nibbles down his throat. "I— yes, Lan Zhan. Yes."
Lan Zhan pulls his hair once more, so hard that it’s bringing tears to the corners of Wei Ying’s eyes, and he whimpers.
"You want this." It is and isn’t a question, wonderment and doubt and assertion.
Wei Ying nods. His hair is still grasped tight by Lan Zhan’s hand, and the motion pulls on it again, a tingling through the roots. He isn’t sure what is happening.
But he wants it so bad.
*
Lan Zhan has a car. It makes sense, especially since he never drinks. Wei Ying knows this because in the beginning he tried to get Lan Zhan to go drinking with him, and got shot down. He never thought too hard on why that made him so hurt.
They drive to Lan Zhan’s small, off-campus unit, a short ride away from Nie Huaisang’s place, and when Lan Zhan doesn’t need both hands on the steering wheel to make a turn his right hand is on Wei Ying’s thigh, gripping tightly, his fingers feeling as if they are penetrating through Wei Ying’s skin.
Somehow Wei Ying had thought that Lan Zhan would be a two hands on the wheel at all times kind of guy.
He also thought Lan Zhan would be a not a chance in hell he would ever kiss Wei Ying kind of guy — would ever like Wei Ying, really like him even, kind of guy, so. Wei Ying seems to have misjudged.
His heart is hammering so hard in his chest. He is going home with Lan Zhan, after they kissed. Surely that means — it must mean —
And Wei Ying liked it, when Lan Zhan kissed him. Really liked it, gone breathless and dizzy and excited from it, so maybe this means he can finally stop wondering, stop being unsure about it, about what he feels, who he is, what he is, and instead… Instead he can be with the person he wants to be with.
He still can’t believe that Lan Zhan kissed him.
He tries to talk, once, during the drive. It’s difficult, with the way his entire body seems to be pulsing, reverberating with his heartbeats, going fast and erratic and thrilled, Lan-Zhan-Lan-Zhan-Lan-Zhan. "Lan Zhan," he starts, and then he nearly chokes, and then Lan Zhan squeezes his thigh and says, "When we get home."
It feels as if the anticipation is eating Wei Ying from inside, his stomach rolling, throat constricting, almost as if he is about to vibrate out of his skin. He places his hand over Lan Zhan’s hand, careful and hesitant, barely breathing. Lan Zhan’s fingers twitch below his. He can see the way Lan Zhan’s shoulders tense, then relax, and then his fingers move in a small, caressing motion, tiny lines up and down Wei Ying’s thigh. Even with the fabric of his pants between them, it feels electrifying.
They only kiss again once they’ve entered Lan Zhan’s home, after closing the door on the outside world. Maybe Lan Zhan is shy about it when it’s in public, when it’s not in the abandoned backyard of the Nie brothers’ home. Wei Ying tries to talk again after he’s taken his shoes off, but Lan Zhan plasters him against the closed door and starts kissing him again — not so shy in private, a delicious, delightful discovery — and Wei Ying figures that it’s for the best.
Nothing can top kissing with Lan Zhan, after all.
Or so Wei Ying had thought, until Lan Zhan pulls away, breath once again hot and heavy on Wei Ying’s face, and he says, "Bedroom" in a voice that Wei Ying has never heard before, low and slightly unhinged, and now Wei Ying is lying on Lan Zhan’s bed in Lan Zhan’s bedroom where he’s never been before, because Lan Zhan is the kind of guy who values his privacy and Wei Ying knows that he is extra annoying and clingy so he never insisted on coming over, never asked to see this part of Lan Zhan’s life, wanted to allow him this freedom, and…
And Lan Zhan is kissing him, again, but he is also snaking a hand between them, undoing Wei Ying’s zipper, and when his fingers brush against Wei Ying’s dick it’s as if a current runs through him, raising goosebumps all over his body. Wei Ying makes a sound, a plea, he doesn’t know where it comes from, only that Lan Zhan’s lips on his and Lan Zhan’s hand on the most intimate part of him is making him want like he has never wanted before, infinitely satisfied by these two touch points but at the same time yearning, longing, hungry for more.
Lan Zhan gives him more.
He is clearly experienced, dedicated and skilled. Generous. Lan Zhan seems determined to wring out everything that Wei Ying has, and for a while Wei Ying lies on the bed, blissed out and painfully aroused and intoxicated from happiness as Lan Zhan kisses his neck, rucks his shirt up, touches him with his warm Lan Zhan hands, squeezes and strokes and rubs until Wei Ying is dripping, until he is mad with pleasure.
But that’s not — that’s selfish of him. And Wei Ying wants to give as good as he gets.
Lan Zhan is surprised when Wei Ying pushes against him, when he rolls them over and decisively sets to opening Lan Zhan’s own pants and exposing his very obvious hard-on. There’s a moment where it’s confusing — Wei Ying had thought that if he ever got to touch someone’s cock, it would be slow and leisurely, exploratory, he would take his time with it, learn it. Also he never really thought about touching anyone’s cock at all. It doesn’t matter, the confusion and the overwhelmingness and fear that’s still gripping at his throat that this is a mistake somehow, Lan Zhan doesn’t mean it, any minute now he’ll come to his senses and he’ll throw Wei Ying out — none of it matters, because it’s Lan Zhan, and Wei Ying is in his bed, so he wants to make it good for him. Good for both of them.
There isn’t any finesse to it, the way he grinds against Lan Zhan, the way he shoves their dicks together and wraps his hand around the two of them. Lan Zhan is big, but Wei Ying can take it, his fingers are flexible and dextrous and talented, and Lan Zhan is making a noise as if he acknowledges that. Lan Zhan brings his hand between their bodies to wrap around Wei Ying’s hand, and they jerk each other off together, sliding against each other, panting and grunting and moaning and finally coming, first Wei Ying who is embarrassingly quick with it, and then Lan Zhan seconds after, eyes widening when he feels the sudden wet slide of Wei Ying’s come.
Wei Ying wonders if this is the way it always is, with two men, horny and hurried and rough.
Lan Zhan moans his name when he comes, low and broken, a barely audible "Wei Ying." It makes his heart feel like it’s glowing, warm and big and impossible. Lan Zhan wants him. Lan Zhan wants him.
He doesn’t get to lie on top of Lan Zhan, exhilarated and spent, for more than a few seconds. The moment Lan Zhan regains his composure he murmurs, "Cleanup" and Wei Ying has to roll to the side when Lan Zhan gets off the bed. Wei Ying is too tired, too drained to call out after him. He doesn’t have time to be hurt though, to feel lonely and abandoned in Lan Zhan’s unfamiliar bed, because Lan Zhan returns with a soft, wet towel and carefully wipes off all their mess, and that’s… that’s nice. It feels considerate.
"Are your clothes stained?" Lan Zhan asks, forever practical. Wei Ying checks. The hem of his shirt seems alright. He wriggles out of his jeans. They seem fine too. There’s a small wet patch on his boxer shorts, but that’s — that was probably there before they left the party, even.
"Lan Zhan." It feels like he forgot how to be himself, Wei Ying who always talks, who always knows what to say. Instead he is this strange, hesitant person. He wants Lan Zhan to like this person. He wants Lan Zhan to like all of him. "Lan Zhan, come back here."
Lan Zhan examines his face, standing by the bed with the towel still in one hand, his pants already done up and proper.
"Mn." He nods, finally. He goes to deposit the towel back where it came from — or actually, put it in the wash, more likely. When he comes back Wei Ying stretches out his arms and curls his toes and tries to look inviting, sexy and soft.
"C’mere." He regrets it the moment he says it, too possessive, too demanding, but Lan Zhan slowly sits down and lifts up one leg, then the other, then he is lying next to Wei Ying on the bed, then leaning into Wei Ying’s outstretched arms.
Then they are cuddling.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying whispers. Lan Zhan doesn’t answer, only buries his nose in the crook of Wei Ying’s neck. Wei Ying lightly runs his fingers through Lan Zhan’s hair. He could swear that Lan Zhan is snuggling closer, that his arm tightens around Wei Ying’s waist.
They can talk later. They can be together quietly, like this.
At some point, Lan Zhan coaxes him to turn over, so that Lan Zhan is the one lying on the bed and Wei Ying lies above him, nestled in Lan Zhan’s arms. Now Lan Zhan definitely tightens his hold around him, kisses the top of his head when Wei Ying nuzzles against him. Wei Ying drifts, sleepy and sated and happy, so happy. Maybe it is that simple. Maybe there doesn’t need to be any crisis, any serious conversation about it.
When he feels his eyelids growing heavier and heavier, he rubs his cheek against Lan Zhan’s shirt. "Can I sleep here tonight?" It must be late, by now. Until now, Wei Ying was never allowed to bother Lan Zhan, when it was late.
The easy undulation of Lan Zhan’s chest below him stops. It’s as if Lan Zhan is frozen, and it makes Wei Ying’s heart freeze in his chest in response. He pushes himself up, away from Lan Zhan’s warmth, struggling free from Lan Zhan’s suddenly lax embrace.
It’s only their first time together. Their very first. He probably overstepped. "Never mind," he says hurriedly, and he scans the room nervously, trying to remember where his jeans went. "Don’t worry about it. Forget I — forget I asked."
Lan Zhan grabs him and pulls him close.
"Lan Zhan?" Why doesn’t Lan Zhan say anything? Is he angry? Sleepy? Disappointed? Does he regret what happened? Wei Ying shouldn’t have done this, he should’ve… done something else. He isn’t sure what. He shouldn’t have dropped his crush and his sexuality crisis and his shamelessness on Lan Zhan all at once and unannounced like this.
He struggles to pull away again but this time Lan Zhan’s grip around him is sure.
"Stay," Lan Zhan murmurs.
It’s the most beautiful sound in the world.
"Are you sure?" Wei Ying asks, because he’s a grade-A self-saboteur.
The pause following his question makes him squirm, confused and uncertain, but eventually, finally, Lan Zhan whispers, "Mn."
Wei Ying stays.
*
Lan Zhan gives him a pair of sweatpants that is slightly too big and a t-shirt with bunnies that matches the pajama bottoms Lan Zhan is wearing. The shirt smells like Lan Zhan as well, clean and heady, and that’s how Wei Ying realizes that Lan Zhan has a scent, that he’s been familiarizing himself with it since he met Lan Zhan for the first time, and now it has become something that he yearns for, achingly comforting. He takes another deep whiff and then turns it into a cough when Lan Zhan steps back into the room, face washed and glowing. He looks soft, for a moment, when he sees Wei Ying in his bed. Or — Wei Ying thinks he does. Hopes so. It’s a good look on him.
"You didn’t have to give up your shirt," he tells Lan Zhan, even though if Lan Zhan asked him to give it back now, he doesn’t think that he could.
"I wanted to." Everything Lan Zhan says is so decisive. So certain. I am who I am. Come home with me. Stay. It sends a delicious shiver down Wei Ying’s spine, that Lan Zhan wanted to. "I have others," Lan Zhan adds. He opens his wardrobe, as if to demonstrate.
"What if you… didn’t?" Wei Ying is up on his knees now, crouching in the middle of the bed. Lan Zhan’s back looks so nice naked. In their… fumbling together, earlier, Wei Ying really didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate it the way Lan Zhan deserves.
He opens his arms wide to the sides. "What if you just came here instead?"
Lan Zhan turns to face him and stares at him for a very long time. Wei Ying’s arms are getting tired, Lan Zhan is staring for so long. (This is the second time he’s asked Lan Zhan to come back to bed with him.) Wei Ying’s arms tremble a little and he starts lowering them when Lan Zhan walks to the bed, then climbs onto it, one knee and then the other, until he can shuffle — except in Lan Zhan’s case it’s not so much shuffle as glide — to the middle of the bed where Wei Ying is feeling silly, and then he gently lowers Wei Ying’s arms to his sides, leans forward, and kisses him.
It’s gentler than he’d been before, almost soft, almost shy. It’s like drinking ice cold water on a hot day except it’s also a warm embrace on a cool evening. It’s making Wei Ying’s metaphors get all mixed up. Wei Ying’s eyes close. When Lan Zhan’s tongue breaches his lips he meets it with his own, and it tastes of toothpaste and Lan Zhan, of finally knowing who he is, what he wants.
"Oh," he whispers when Lan Zhan pulls back, and his eyes once again open.
Lan Zhan is doing that thing again with his face. It almost looks like smiling.
"You should brush your teeth," Lan Zhan says. His voice sounds low, rough. "I left you a new toothbrush on the counter." Wei Ying can tease him about that. Can marvel at how well-prepared he is, or maybe point out how fussy it is of Lan Zhan to insist on teeth-brushing the first night ever Wei Ying spends with another man. Another human being, who isn’t just a friend or someone from his family.
He doesn’t tease. He nods and leans forward to kiss Lan Zhan on the cheek and then he shuffles — much less gracefully that Lan Zhan — to the edge of the bed and pads over to the bathroom. In the bathroom everything is nice and clean and organized, until he notices the towel in the hamper that Lan Zhan used to wipe their come with.
Wei Ying grins at the sight of it.
He brushes his teeth and washes his face and uses the bathroom before slinking back to bed. Lan Zhan has turned off the main light, left only his bedside lamp on, and he is lying on his back, hands crossed over his chest, staring at the ceiling.
Wei Ying climbs under the covers and lies on his side, throwing his arm over Lan Zhan’s torso. "What are you thinking about?"
His heart is back to pitter-pattering in his chest, excited and overflowing with joy. He hopes Lan Zhan can feel it. He wants to place his hand on Lan Zhan’s heart and find out if Lan Zhan feels this way too. But Lan Zhan’s heart is currently covered by his own hands, and Wei Ying doesn’t want to impose.
"You," Lan Zhan answers, and in one smooth motion rolls over to turn off the rest of the lights.
In the dark it feels like Lan Zhan’s bed is the entire world. The entire universe. Wei Ying feels like an astronaut, lost and floating out in space. He searches for Lan Zhan’s touch again and holds on to him tight.
"What are you thinking about me?" He asks. He thinks it’s a shameless question. But it doesn’t sound shameless when the words come out of his mouth. Here, in Lan Zhan’s bed, it sounds… plaintive.
Lan Zhan doesn’t answer, but Wei Ying can feel the tips of his fingers where they twitch, where they grope around to get closer to Wei Ying.
Poor Lan Zhan. He isn’t used to so much talking. Isn’t used to so much Wei Ying.
"I really liked what we did today," Wei Ying whispers into Lan Zhan’s left pec, squishes himself close until all of his body is touching Lan Zhan’s side. Until neither of them can accidentally drift away. I’d like to do it again, he doesn’t say and instead he swallows and breathes Lan Zhan deep into his lungs and says, "I think I really like you."
Lan Zhan makes a sound, strangled and cut-off. His fingers intertwine with Wei Ying’s.
"Sleep," he says. Wei Ying thinks he says it fondly.
"I just wanted to say it," Wei Ying defends himself, and he presses a tiny kiss against Lan Zhan’s skin and squeezes his fingers. "Good night, Lan Zhan."
There’s a small, selfish part of him that hopes Lan Zhan will say something similar. Something reciprocal. But Lan Zhan only whispers "Good night, Wei Ying," and then his breathing grows slow, and he falls asleep.
He does pull Wei Ying tighter against him though, arm around his waist.
Wei Ying lies in the dark, listening to the sounds of Lan Zhan sleeping, waiting for sleep to take him as well.
He’s never been so happy.