Work Text:
Dec. 2016
Wei Ying’s hands are fisted into his winter coat as he skips ahead of Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang. To celebrate the start of their winter holiday, they proposed an outing to downtown Shanghai. Per Nie Huaisang’s insistence they decided to visit a pop-up restaurant that is only serving food for a month and for a handful of hours a day. Wei Ying thinks it’s a stupid business model, but Nie Huaisang swears by it. Every week he jumps from hobby to hobby, from fan collecting to photography to now being a foodie—whatever the hell that meant. Wei Ying has stopped trying to keep track, it’s a fruitless endeavor.
“Can we stop by a convenience store on our way?” Wei Ying asks, angling his head toward the clouds, forcing his tone to stay level. His face burns, but he quickly brushes it off, attributing it to the cold. It’s a simple request, there’s no reason he would be embarrassed.
“We are literally going to go eat at some rich fuck’s restaurant, and you want convenience store food?” Jiang Cheng calls out to him with all the disgust only a younger brother could possess. By four days, but Wei Ying will hold those days above Jiang Cheng’s head for as long as he breaths.
“I’m not going for food! Huaisang would literally kill me—” Wei Ying pivots around to address his brother, swinging one foot out for dramatics.
“Correct, don’t even think about it. This restaurant is all the rage on Weibo, we cannot go in with tainted palates,” Nie Huaisang shudders at the mere suggestion, going back to tapping on his phone at a scary speed.
“See! I just need to pick up a magazine. For a friend,” Wei Ying gives them a smile that screams I-Have-No-Ulterior-Motives.
Going by Jiang Cheng’s eye roll, it was not very effective. “Sure. A friend. It’s Volleyball Weekly isn’t it?”
Wei Ying isn’t even sure why he’s trying to lie about this. So what if he’s picking up a volleyball magazine? It’s not like he’s trying to buy the type of magazine Nie Huaisang usually gets. Not this time at least. Yet he still can’t help the words that spill from his mouth. “Haha, what. No, why would it be that? It’s definitely a completely normal, non-sports magazine. Furthest thing from sports, actually. Fashion! Yea that’s the one. Gonna grab a fashion magazine,” Wei Ying says with all the confidence of a punctured balloon.
“Name one fashion magazine.” Jiang Cheng fires back, challenging his poorly crafted lie without missing a beat.
“A quiz! I didn’t know I was still in class,” Wei Ying deflects in an effort to buy some time. “I know a ton! Like… Um.. Trendy… Trends?” Wei Ying offers, and Nie Huaisang shoots him a disappointed look.
“Alright, fine. It’s the volleyball one.”
“You’re so dumb. Trendy Trends? Really, that’s the best you could do? People are going to start thinking you have a volleyball for a brain,” Jiang Cheng says with a teasing huff.
“Hey! That’s mean!” Wei Ying pouts, falling step with his brother. “A-Cheng, have respect for your elders. Apologize!” Wei Ying says tipping into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder for added emphasis.
With a blatant disregard for Newton’s law of equal and opposite force, Jiang Cheng shoves him back, nearly causing Wei Ying to topple over. “What’s so important about this issue anyway. Couldn’t you have gotten it at home?”
“W-Well there were no more copies when I checked yesterday. There’s a very, uh, interesting article on,” Wei Ying scans his surroundings before landing on a jogger across the street, “running shoes! Yeah, which types are good for posture and stuff. Y’know how I’ve been wanting to get into running outdoors more often!” He very much has not, but he’s hoping Jiang Cheng isn’t that perceptive.
“You are. So weird. You know that? What the fuck, running shoes? Are the ones you have not good enough or something?” A point for Wei Ying.
“Oh! Are you talking about the newest issue of Volleyball Weekly with the special about the MVP from last season’s Fall Volleyball Tournament? I heard there’s even a free poster included,” Nie Huaisang adds, oh so helpfully.
Fuck.
Wei Ying glances at Jiang Cheng and he can practically see the gears turning. Maybe it’s not too late to throw a wrench in.
“Hahaha, what was the name of this restaurant you’re taking us to, Huaisang? I keep forgetting. Wow, am I starving. Let’s pick up the pace guys!” Wei Ying gives a nervous laugh, embarrassment clawing up his back. He starts to walk faster, but it’s already too late.
“Wait! Wasn’t the MVP Lan Zhan?”
Wei Ying has run out of excuses. Might as well go for broke. He rushes ahead to the nearest convenience store.
“Wei Ying!”
_____________
A Year Later
Lan Zhan and him barely get to his room before their hands are all over each other. Lan Zhan’s grip tightens on his hips from behind as Wei Ying struggles with the doorknob. Who could blame him when the best setter in all of China—the world probably—is lightly trailing kisses on the back of his neck?
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, breathless, “One...one second.” No one is currently home, but he’s not taking any chances.
“Mn,” Lan Zhan says, but either he didn’t hear Wei Ying or is electing to ignore him as he continues mouthing the nape of his neck, nose nuzzling behind his ears. It’s all too much for Wei Ying, and he feels his legs grow weak under him.
Wei Ying manages to open the door by some higher power, and before he’s even processed the change of location, Lan Zhan has him pinned to the door. His onslaught of kisses moves with practiced ease to the front of his neck, and Wei Ying’s mind goes blank. All his senses tuned to Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan’s fingers digging into his waist, his breath following each press of his lips against his jawline, his heartbeat beating in rhythm with his own, and his voice murmuring his name like a prayer.
“Wei Ying?”
Well, not like that. That was more of a question with the tail end of his name rising up in confusion.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines directly into his boyfriend’s—the word alone sends waves coursing his entire body—ears. “Why did you decide to stop now? You’re so weird, we are inside the room Lan Zhan.”
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan says his name again, demanding—but in the less sexy way.
“What is it sweetheart?” Wei Ying opens his eyes just in time to see Lan Zhan flush with the pet name.
“B-behind you.” Lan Zhan stutters on his words, which is a huge flashing neon sign that something is wrong. Lan Zhan never stutters. The hold on him goes slack. Lan Zhan eyes glaze over as he focuses his gaze on the spot just to the right of Wei Ying’s head.
A pang of sadness hits Wei Ying at the loss of Lan Zhan’s attention before he asks, “What? What’s behind me?”
When Lan Zhan doesn’t answer immediately, Wei Ying feels the dread creep up at the back of his ears.
Is it a spider? Mold? A ghost? Or worse, is it a dog?
But that makes no sense. There couldn’t be a dog just attached to his door. Right?
Wei Ying swallows once and steels his nerves. It’s probably going to be nothing, and they can go back to making out. Lan Zhan might look like the human embodiment of blue screening, but Wei Ying needs to be brave for the both of them. He takes a deep breath and cranes his neck to the right.
Wei Ying’s heart stills at what he sees.
He is met with a face full of Lan Zhan. A slightly younger Lan Zhan, mid jump serve. His limbs still on the gangly side as he waits on his next growth spurt not due for a couple more months. His hair slicked back with sweat from the intensity of the match. The gymnasium lights shining from behind him, as if he were the one illuminating the room. It was a beautiful picture. Stunning even. It’s the very image that gained Lan Zhan the nickname Hanguang-jun in the volleyball circuit.
Lan Zhan’s eyes are still locked onto the poster from over a year ago, and Wei Ying’s mind kicks back into functionality as he processes the situation.
Lan Zhan and him only got together about a little over a month ago, and he’s in Wei Ying’s room. For the first time. Looking at a poster of himself. From last year. Hanging up in Wei Ying’s room. Presumably for about a year.
Wei Ying feels his entire body flush, starting from the back of his neck spreading to the tips of his toes and to the crown of his head. Dying of pure distilled embarrassment from Lan Zhan finding a poster in Wei Ying’s possession feels very appropriate as the last chapter of Wei Ying’s life. He hadn’t yet gotten around to writing a will, but he trusts his sister well enough to know what to do.
“Lan Zhan, haha- funny story, uh… so that is you, I mean you can see that, yes I just… Well uh...A joke! Yes! It was all a prank! All planned. By yours truly,” Wei Ying feels the words tumble out of his mouth, clumsy and unconvincing. Even the kids he coaches on the weekends would be able to see through his lie. And they’re four and still eat glue.
He screws his eyes shut in an effort to shield himself from the mortifying ordeal of being known.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says in the tone he uses when he knows Wei Ying is bullshiting. Though there’s something different to his voice than usual. Just ever so slightly off. Wei Ying’s curiosity finally wins over, and he manages to muster up enough courage to face Lan Zhan’s reaction.
It’s worse than Wei Ying could have ever imagined.
Lan Zhan is smiling. His lips are curved up ever so slightly, his cheeks pushed up crinkling the edges of his eyes, and his jaw is tight. As if he were holding in a laugh.
“Lan Zhan! You are laughing at me! Oh my god, y’know what? I’ve decided I’m passing away. Please, just forget me, this is too much. I can’t believe I forgot I had this up, and I even spent all day yesterday cleaning my room too. This is so embarrassing, just leave. I’m going to wallow and fade away. Never showing my face again,” Wei Ying squawks out, his face flushing an even deeper red. This is truly the worst timeline.
Lan Zhan makes a point to raise his eyebrows as if to say, ‘I’m not making a single sound, what do you mean?’
“Please my dying wish, let me at least hear your laugh as I go,” Wei Ying says, flinging his arms around his boyfriend's neck. Would Lan Zhan still be his boyfriend once Wei Ying becomes a ghost? Ghost boyfriend sounds pretty hot actually.
Before Wei Ying could delve deeper into the semantics of dating while dead, Lan Zhan interrupts with the gentlest shake of his chest.
He’s actually laughing.
Wei Ying tightens his hold on Lan Zhan, just how did he get so lucky to end up with the most adorable boy?
“Wei Ying can’t go, I would miss him too much,” Lan Zhan says and it all but seals the deal for Wei Ying. There’s no way he can survive hearing such sweet words from Lan Zhan.
“But this is so embarrassing, you're never going to let me live it down. I know it. We should just forget this ever happened” Wei Ying mumbles the words into the juncture of Lan Zhan’s shoulder and neck.
“Everything Wei Ying does is worth remembering,” Lan Zhan whispers as he threads his fingers through Wei Ying’s hair.
“You are really too much,” Wei Ying groans. Who let Lan Zhan get so smooth without telling him?
“Mn, others might claim a poster to be too much,” Lan Zhan says with no actual bite.
“So, I see the teasing begins,” Wei Ying sighs, resigning himself to his fate.
Lan Zhan answers by placing a sweet kiss on the top of his head, a stark contrast to what was happening moments earlier.
“What do you say I put away this poster and we continue where we left off? Lan Er-gege?” Wei Ying asks, peeking his head up from his hiding spot. He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and Lan Zhan’s eyes darken in response.
“Mn.”