Chapter Text
When Song Lan had invited him on this trip, Lan Zhan had been thrilled. It isn’t often that they get to spend time together anymore, what with their busy lives and Song Lan being newly engaged to his high school sweetheart, Xingchen.
Xingchen, who has brought his own friend along on this weekend getaway. Which is fine, it’s great, it’s– it’s real fucking fantastic, except for the fact that the friend he’s invited is Wei Ying.
Suffice it to say that Lan Zhan is considerably less happy when he learns of this. His already sour mood only worsens when they load their things into the cabin they’ve rented for the weekend to find a singular cramped bedroom and that fucking bed.
There’s a double on the bottom bunk, which will obviously be taken up by Song Lan and Xingchen. The problem is the top bunk; two single beds sitting perpendicular to one another, so that whichever way the occupants lie, they won’t be able to avoid each other. At all. Which, frankly, is exactly what Lan Zhan had been planning to do with Wei Ying this weekend.
The problem with Wei Ying isn’t that he’s loud and constantly invades Lan Zhan’s space, nor that he has no regard for rules and those who follow them. No, those are merely some of his annoying traits, but those aren’t the problem. The problem with Wei Ying is this: he knows these things about himself. Knows them, takes pride in them, does nothing to fix them. Constantly uses them to his advantage just to rile Lan Zhan up, to start disputes and tinker with his emotions.
Lan Zhan very much dislikes him. He very much does not want to spend a weekend getting chummy with him on the top bunk.
“Looks like you’re rooming with me, huh, Lan Zhan?”
Speak of the Devil.
Lan Zhan sighs, placing his belongings down in a spare corner of the room. “We are all rooming in the same place,” he says.
Wei Ying has the gall to laugh. The sound scratches at Lan Zhan’s skin. He suppresses a shiver.
“Gee, this is gonna be fun,” Wei Ying mutters. He heaves himself up onto one of the single beds, fluffing up the pillow before pushing it closer to what will be Lan Zhan’s own. He frowns.
Before he can say anything else, Song Lan enters the room with his and Xingchen’s belongings. Xingchen follows behind him, sporting a look of pure delight at the sight that greets him.
“How funny,” he says, plopping himself down on the double bed. “I’ve never seen a bed like this before. This will be fun!”
Wei Ying leans over the edge of his bed, hanging rather precariously. “That’s exactly what I just said!”
Lan Zhan clenches his jaw and watches him shift until he’s hanging almost completely upside-down, only his lower body still on the bed. His hands twitch at his sides. He feels suddenly on-edge.
Wei Ying is so annoying. This will not be fun.
Nightfall comes around slower than Lan Zhan had been expecting. After unpacking their things for the weekend and cooking somewhat of a meal together with the few things they’ve brought from home, the four of them settle down for the night. Wei Ying suggests a game of cards before bed, but Xingchen yawns and says, “Maybe tomorrow. It’s been a long day.”
Wei Ying pouts, then leans across the couch they’re on to nudge at Lan Zhan’s ribs. His hands grip the plush leather of the couch harder than before as he jerks himself away from the touch, glaring at Wei Ying.
“Won’t you play cards with me, Lan Zhan?”
Lan Zhan sighs through his nose. “Tomorrow,” he says, before he can think it over.
Wei Ying grins, the sight of it making Lan Zhan’s chest burn. This is why you shouldn’t make promises, Lan Zhan, he chides himself.
After that, they all spend a while preparing for bed. Wei Ying has brought a single pair of Hello Kitty pyjamas, which are approximately three sizes too small for him. He’s absolutely infuriating.
Once they’ve turned out the lights and crawled into bed, it’s silent for a while. There’s the occasional shift from the bottom bunk, but otherwise the room is silent. Lan Zhan almost lets himself relax – almost – until he feels something prodding at his cheek.
“Psst,” he hears, in what he thinks must be an attempt at a whisper. “Lan Zhan. Are you still awake?”
“You are poking at my face,” he deadpans. “How do you suppose I could sleep?”
He hears a soft chuckle, and the single finger suddenly becomes a palm. Wei Ying’s hand cradles his cheek, and suddenly Lan Zhan is too warm. He can feel his blood boiling as his rage reaches new heights.
“Wei Ying. Go to sleep.”
He can practically hear the pout on Wei Ying’s lips as the man shifts onto his front. After so long in the dark, Lan Zhan’s eyes have adjusted enough to be able to see Wei Ying’s silhouette. They’re close enough that he thinks he may even be able to distinguish each individual feature on Wei Ying’s face.
All of a sudden, Wei Ying says, “You don’t like me very much.”
The statement catches Lan Zhan off-guard. It’s true, of course it is – Wei Ying is frustrating, disrespectful, overwhelming. Lan Zhan wants to be as far away from him as possible. He’d rather be anywhere but here, face lined up with Wei Ying’s own in the dark.
His silence is telling enough. Wei Ying hums, then drops his hand to the pillow beside Lan Zhan’s head. “It’s a shame,” he says quietly. “Because I quite like you, Lan Zhan.”
And then he does something entirely unexpected. He leans in close, so close that Lan Zhan can feel his puffs of breath over his lips, can feel his eyelashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks – and then he plants a gentle kiss right on the tip of Lan Zhan’s nose.
He’s drawn away before Lan Zhan can even react, sitting up with his pillow cradled against his chest. He deposits it at the other end of his bed before laying back down, his feet now inches away from Lan Zhan’s face.
He’s infuriating. Lan Zhan thinks he might be in love with him.