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Lan Xichen knows he needs to study. Business is not his strong suit, but his uncle insisted on at least an entry level course, so that Lan Xichen has even a basic understanding of the subject, but. Lan Xichen hates it.
He chose a classical music major for a reason after all.
Lan Xichen should count himself lucky that he has a friend like Meng Yao, a business major, who is willing to try to make Lan Xichen understand the subject at hand. Not that Lan Xichen is paying his explanation any attention at all.
“Xichen,” Meng Yao snaps, for maybe the third time in the last hour and Lan Xichen sighs, defeated.
“I am trying,” he gives back, desperation colouring his words, but it’s so close to a lie that it makes Lan Xichen uncomfortable.
“Are you even paying attention to me?” Meng Yao demands to know and Lan Xichen presses his lips together.
He’s paying a little bit too much attention to him and that is exactly the problem.
Lan Xichen can’t tear his eyes away from his hands, who are gracefully making a point, or spinning the pen, or turning a page in their book. He can’t tear his eyes away from Meng Yao’s lashes, which seem impossible long when he looks down and which cast the most delicate shadows on his cheeks. He can’t tear his eyes away from the hints of dimples that show when Meng Yao speaks or grimaces or does anything at all with his facial muscles and it’s a goddamn problem.
“Yes,” Lan Xichen belatedly says and Meng Yao levels him with a look that tells Lan Xichen exactly just how much he believes him.
“What did I last say?” Meng Yao wants to know and honestly, Lan Xichen has no damn clue what topic they are even covering.
“Are you even paying attention to me,” he gives back, fully expecting the icy glare Meng Yao gives him at that and then he flinches when Meng Yao slams the book close.
“I’m here because you asked me for help, Xichen. I can’t help you, if you won’t even try.”
“I am trying, I promise,” Lan Xichen says, because he is, so damn hard actually. It’s not his fault Meng Yao’s everything is distracting to him.
“Are you?” Meng Yao asks and then sighs. “Look,” he starts and Lan Xichen has a heart-stopping moment where he thinks Meng Yao is going to say he’s leaving.
He doesn’t want him to leave. He never wants him to leave.
“Why don’t you focus on your major for an hour or so, and I’ll write this damn essay, and then we’ll try again.”
“Yes,” Lan Xichen immediately agrees.
Anything that brings him more time with Meng Yao will always be okay with him.
“Alright then,” Meng Yao says and gets out a book that is three times the size Lan Xichen’s business book is, and Lan Xichen can feel himself pale by just looking at that.
“Thank god that’s not my major,” he mutters under his breath but Meng Yao must hear him anyway, because he gives Lan Xichen a grin that sends his heart tumbling in his chest.
Those dimples will be the death of him one day.
“Your analysis on the history of guqin’s isn’t looking very appealing to me, either,” he says. “Good thing we both stick to what we understand, right?”
“I wish,” Lan Xichen bitterly mutters because he doesn’t understand business at all.
“You will,” Meng Yao reassures him. “If you’ll pay attention later.”
“I will,” Lan Xichen promises and after one last satisfied nod from Meng Yao he dives into his preferred subject.
It last for exactly the amount of minutes it takes Meng Yao’s hair to fall into his forehead when he bends down his head to do his reading. Then, Lan Xichen wants to do nothing more but reach out and push his hands into Meng Yao’s hair and brush the stray strands aside.
“I have to use the bathroom,” Lan Xichen presses out, grabs his phone and leaves before Meng Yao can so much do as acknowledge him.
‘Help,’ Lan Xichen writes as he’s walking out of the study room and it takes Nie Mingjue barely a minute to call him.
“What’s wrong?” he starts with, because Lan Xichen doesn’t start with a cry for help, ever.
“I love him,” Lan Xichen blurts out before he slaps his hand over his mouth.
He is met with a very judging silence on the other end.
“I really love him, and I cannot concentrate, he is too beautiful, I need you to come save me.”
“You cannot be serious,” Nie Mingjue mutters, and Lan Xichen can just imagine him, pained grimace and all.
“Mingjue, please.”
“Xichen, he’s a little devil, you know that, right? He’s not studying business to have a place in his father’s company. He’s planning to take over the whole damn thing.”
“He’s ambitious and clever and has clear goals,” Lan Xichen gives back, because he fails to see how those are bad traits. “Plus, he’s just too beautiful for anyone. The dimples, Mingjue, those alone are dangerous.”
“You are a goddamn romantic, is what you are,” Nie Mingjue grumbles.
“Yes. Yes, I am and I am going to compose an ode to his entire everything one day, but for now I need you to save me.”
“If you’re so goddamn romantic, maybe you should just confess,” Nie Mingjue snaps back, and Lan Xichen stills his pacing.
“I can’t. He doesn’t feel that way about me, Mingjue, please, I am dying. He tried to explain something to me for an hour and I don’t even know what he was saying.”
“Maybe I should leave you to your fate, so you’ll eventually just snap and kiss him and put us all out of our misery.”
“Please don’t,” Lan Xichen begs and Nie Mingjue sighs.
Lan Xichen knows he has won.
“Fine, I’ll help you,” he says, a hint of something in his voice, but Lan Xichen knows Nie Mingjue would never leave him hanging.
“We’re in the study room on the second floor in the library. Please hurry,” Lan Xichen instructs him and then hangs up without waiting for a confirmation from Nie Mingjue.
Lan Xichen takes another minute just to breathe outside, preparing himself for the rest of the afternoon, sitting right across Meng Yao and being assaulted by his, well, everything before he goes back inside.
When he reaches their table, Meng Yao is no longer studying.
“What’s wrong?” Lan Xichen asks as he sits down and Meng Yao slightly tilts his head.
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me what your problem with my dimples is?” Meng Yao gives back and Lan Xichen freezes on his chair.
“Come again?” he eventually manages to get out and Meng Yao looks down at his phone.
“Nie Mingjue told me to either put the dimples away or to good use, since you have such a problem with them, and I am just wondering what that means?”
“Oh no,” Lan Xichen breathes out and then watches in horror as Meng Yao’s phone lights up with a message again.
“Xichen,” Meng Yao starts slowly, reading along as more and more messages appear on the screen and Lan Xichen fights the impulse to jump over the table and steal the phone right out of his hands.
That’s it. Nie Mingjue lost best friend status, he can be lucky if Lan Xichen even attends the funeral he will need.
“Is this true?” Meng Yao asks him and Lan Xichen decides that playing dumb is the way to go here.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says as earnestly as he can but Meng Yao looks clean through his bullshit.
“So I should just spend another hour lecturing you on something you won’t even retain instead of spending the time better?” Meng Yao asks and Lan Xichen looks down.
“I’m sorry I’m keeping you from something important. You don’t have to stay here, you can go do whatever it is you need to do,” Lan Xichen says, unable to meet Meng Yao’s eyes, because he never meant to be a burden on him.
“Where would I go without you when I need you for that as well,” Meng Yao says and Lan Xichen looks up at him to find Meng Yao looking at him with a decidedly mischievous look on his face.
“What—would you need me for?” Lan Xichen haltingly asks and now the smile on Meng Yao’s face definitely slides into a smirk.
It brings out his dimples even more.
“I think making out for an hour or two sounds like an excellent idea, but if you have something better to do—,” he trails off there, as if there could ever be anything better than what Meng Yao has offered just now.
“Making out with me,” Lan Xichen still asks, because he might have convinced himself for months now that Meng Yao could never feel the same way about him.
“If you think you’re the only one suffering sitting right across the table, then I need you to think again. The way you unconsciously move your hands like you’re playing your guqin when you’re thinking makes me insane on the best of days,” Meng Yao admits. “And you’re wearing your hair down today. It’s not the best of days for me,” he goes on and then reaches out to tuck a strand behind Lan Xichen’s ear.
“Oh,” Lan Xichen breathes out and then slams his book close so hard he gets a few narrowed looks. “I think leaving sounds like a very good idea,” Lan Xichen says after he cleared his throat and Meng Yao positively beams at him.
“Perfect.”
When Lan Xichen packs his things, his eyes fall on his own phone and he sees he has one message from Nie Mingjue.
‘You’re welcome,’ is all it says.
Yes, he is. He is very welcome indeed.