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Wei Ying likes men.
Lan Zhan knows this. Wei Ying told him on the first day they met, back when Lan Zhan was newly out of homeschool and Wei Ying was his loud, bright, accident and acne prone school-assigned freshman roommate.
Two years later, they’re tucked into a two-bedroom off-campus apartment that Lan Zhan pays for and Wei Ying pretends to pay for by vacuuming once a week and doing the dishes once a day. Lan Zhan doesn’t mind, though. Not when it’s Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan has had friends before Wei Ying. He has another friend now, even, named Xiao Xingchen, but none of his other friends have ever been like this. With Wei Ying, he doesn't need to make time to see him. Wei Ying likes to eat dinner with him. Wei Ying likes to lay on the floor of Lan Zhan's room so shamelessly while Lan Zhan plays his violin, or his guqin. Wei Ying, against all odds, likes to be around Lan Zhan. And Lan Zhan likes to be around Wei Ying.
One day, Lan Zhan wakes up and there's a shirtless man in his kitchen.
If the man were Wei Ying, Lan Zhan wouldn't mind. Wei Ying has always been comfortable in a sort of way Lan Zhan can't bring himself to be. This man is not Wei Ying, though; this man, who is wearing Wei Ying's rabbit pajama pants that Lan Zhan got him for his birthday last year, has short hair instead of long, and a red mark on his collarbone that Lan Zhan tries not to stare at.
This man is eating Lan Zhan's Cheerios like they're his.
"Oh, hi," the man says, startling a bit when he notices Lan Zhan standing in the doorway. "Are you Wei Ying's roommate?" He takes a fan out of… somewhere, covering the bottom half of his face with it as he chews.
What is Lan Zhan supposed to say in situations like these? Nothing he has ever read in a book has prepared him for a shirtless man in his kitchen. His throat tightens.
The shirtless man does not seem to mind. "Nie Huaisang," he says, dropping his spoon and holding out his hand.
Lan Zhan stares at that hand until it drops.
"Ying-xiong told me you were quiet, but that's alright. I don't mind quiet." He eats more of Lan Zhan's Cheerios.
Just then, Wei Ying emerges from his room. He's dressed, thankfully, in an oversized hoodie he stole from Lan Zhan and leggings, and he grins at Lan Zhan as though this is normal and there are always shirtless men named Nie Huaisang in their kitchen.
"A-Sang," he says, and socks Nie Huaisang on the shoulder. "Put on clothes."
"You didn't seem to care about clothes last night," Nie Huaisang says, and flutters his eyelashes behind his fan, and Wei Ying laughs, bright and full-bodied, and Wei Ying curls a loose strand of hair behind his shoulder, revealing red marks of his own.
Lan Zhan goes back into his room. He shuts the door.
He can eat lunch later.
Nearly an hour later, Wei Ying knocks on Lan Zhan's door.
"Yes?" says Lan Zhan. He's laying on his bed, scrolling through Weibo on his phone.
Wei Ying pokes his head in, then enters, closing the door and sitting on the floor in front of Lan Zhan's bed. His hair is pulled back. The red marks stand out on Wei Ying's tan skin.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying starts, propping his chin up in his hand. "Are you mad at me?"
Mad? At Wei Ying? Lan Zhan tears his gaze away from Wei Ying's throat. His mind is whirring, a dead wheel spinning over and over as it tries to find purchase. "Mad?"
"I know you told me to tell you when I'm bringing someone home when we moved in, yeah? And so I wanted to say, you know." Wei Ying leans back on his hands, offering Lan Zhan his brightest grin. "It won't happen again, okay? I'll give you warning next time."
Right. Lan Zhan remembers now - and Wei Ying had brought home quite a few people their first two years of college, but it's been long enough that Lan Zhan forgot his own rule.
Lan Zhan never forgets his rules.
"Oh, Lan Zhan," and then Wei Ying is coming closer, kneeling and leaning his cheek against the bed next to Lan Zhan's shoulder and draping one arm across his waist, pouting up at him in a way Lan Zhan has never quite been able to resist. "Don't be mad at me? Please? I'll even pay you back for the Cheerios."
"Mn." Lan Zhan sets his phone down on his chest. "I am not mad."
Lan Zhan does not lie. This moment is no exception. It's true that he isn't mad. He doesn't think he's ever been mad at Wei Ying, except for maybe that one time freshman year when he told him to piss off, and he certainly isn't mad now.
So why does he feel like he's lying? There's a knot in his chest as he stares down at Wei Ying, his hair already escaping its ponytail. He can't breathe when Wei Ying is this close.
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says, dragging out each syllable. "You look mad."
Lan Zhan blinks. "I do not lie."
Wei Ying grins. "I know. I'm just teasing." He lifts the hand on Lan Zhan's waist, poking his side.
Lan Zhan jumps.
Wei Ying laughs. "I'll leave you alone now, 'kay? Thanks for understanding. I'll venmo you!"
As Wei Ying closes the door behind him, Lan Zhan knows he's not going to get his money back.
Lan Zhan's room is always so much quieter after Wei Ying leaves.
The next weekend, Wei Ying shoots Lan Zhan a text, asking if his A-Sang can stay the night again.
Lan Zhan says yes, of course, so long as he brings his own cheerios.
Wei Ying sends a smile.
Lan Zhan isn't sure what's wrong with him. He hasn't associated negative emotions with Wei Ying since those first few weeks they lived together, before they hit their groove as roommates. But now, he keeps staring at the text Wei Ying sent him. His A-Sang. Staying the night. The smiley face.
His thumb presses into the phone screen so hard, he's worried it will crack.
Nie Huaisang doesn't come back after that second night. Or maybe Wei Ying just goes to his place instead. Lan Zhan doesn't think that's the case, though, because the next time he joins Wei Ying on the couch, he's scrolling through one of his dating apps. Tendie, or Tinker, or something like that.
Lan Zhan doesn't try to look over Wei Ying's shoulder. Doing something like that is inherently dishonest, and he makes a note to meditate about it later, because he can't stop glancing at Wei Ying as he swipes across the screen.
The eighth time he peeks, Wei Ying catches him.
"Lan Zhan," he says, and leans into Lan Zhan's shoulder. "When are you going to join Tinder?"
Right. Tinder. That's what it's called.
"There's lots of cute… girls? Guys?" Wei Ying tilts his head up to study Lan Zhan's face. "Um lots of cute people. You should get out there more! Meet people that aren't just me or your brother or Xiao Xingchen."
Lan Zhan doesn't need to meet people that aren't Wei Ying or Lan Huan or Xiao Xingchen. Lan Zhan doesn't want to meet people that aren't Wei Ying or Lan Huan or Xiao Xingchen.
"See look," and Wei Ying is leaning against his chest now, and he weighs nothing, but Lan Zhan still can't breathe. "You swipe right if you like someone," Wei Ying swipes right, "You swipe left if you don't!" Wei Ying swipes left.
"Mn."
"Oh, don't be like that, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says, and fully curls onto Lan Zhan's lap, head tucked into the crook of Lan Zhan's shoulder like it belongs there. "You'd get lots of matches. I know I'd match with you."
Lan Zhan breathes in sharply.
Wei Ying looks up. "What? Are you saying you wouldn't match with me, Lan-er-ge?"
Lan Zhan can feel Wei Ying's breath against the underside of his jaw. What would happen if he leaned closer? His breath is warm. His back, against Lan Zhan's chest, is warmer.
"Lan-er-ge," Wei Ying repeats, softly, teasingly, and now his breath is against Lan Zhan's ear.
Lan Zhan pushes Wei Ying off his lap, standing with a start.
"Lan Zhan?"
Lan Zhan is only vaguely aware of Wei Ying calling his name. The blood is rushing through his ears too loudly. He doesn't remember their living room being this small. He doesn't remember anything, except for Wei Ying's lips brushing against his earlobe and the lurch that caused in his chest.
"Lan Zhan?"
Lan Zhan doesn't reply. He closes the door to his bedroom, leaving Wei Ying on the other side.
Lan Zhan recognizes Wei Ying's next date as the man Wei Ying swiped right on last week.
He tries not to hold this against him.
Wei Ying introduces him in the morning as Song Lan. Song Lan, as it turns out, is friends with Lan Zhan's friend Xiao Xingchen. "Small world," Wei Ying says, and giggles.
Lan Zhan decides that he doesn't like Song Lan. Maybe it's the way that he comes over thrice in two weeks. Maybe it's the way that Wei Ying is so shameless, coming out of his room with kiss-bit lips to take water bottles from the kitchen whenever Song Lan is here. Maybe it's the way they're both so shameless, kissing over the kitchen table as Lan Zhan makes his afternoon tea.
He doesn't realize that he's spoken that last thought until they pull away with a pop and Wei Ying turns, staring at Lan Zhan with a look Lan Zhan doesn't know how to read.
Lan Zhan flushes.
"I should-"
Lan Zhan never finds out what Song Lan should do, because he crashes out of the kitchen, into his room, and onto his bed, tea abandoned.
He hears the front door open, then close again, muttered chatting dying into silence. He wonders if Wei Ying is going to come into his room again. He wonders if Wei Ying hates him. He wonders.
It's nearly an hour before the front door opens and shuts again. Lan Zhan is just about to get up when Wei Ying comes barging into his room without knocking.
"Here," Wei Ying says, and slaps something down on Lan Zhan's desk. It takes Lan Zhan a moment to realize it's a stack of cash.
"Hm?" he says.
Wei Ying refuses to meet his eyes. "Half of the rent for this month. I borrowed from my jiejie. I'm gonna start looking for jobs."
Lan Zhan sits up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "Wei Ying?"
"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says. "Now that I'm not freeloading, we can just go back to being roommates, not friends. Jiang Cheng said he'd help me make a chore chart."
Lan Zhan furrows his brow. Why won't Wei Ying look at him?
"I only ask that if you have any more thoughts about me and my preferences, you keep that to yourself," Wei Ying says. He squeezes his eyes shut.
"Wei Ying."
"And if you can't live with me anymore, then I'll move out at the end of the lease. Jiejie and Wen Qing have an extra bedroom." Wei Ying wipes his nose. "Um, that's it. I'm gonna go now, Lan Zhan."
Lan Zhan's brain jams as Wei Ying closes the door behind him.
As soon as Lan Zhan says his brother's name into the phone, Lan Huan invites him over.
Lan Huan's apartment is clean, smelling of fresh roses and waterfalls, with pictures of him and his husband on the walls.
As soon as Nie Mingjue sees Lan Zhan, sitting on their couch with tears in his eyes, he sputters an excuse about picking up dinner and steps out.
"A-Zhan," Lan Huan says. He takes a seat beside Lan Zhan, careful not to touch. "What happened?"
What happened? What happened? It's as good a question as any. Lan Zhan stares down at his gray socks, at the plait at the front of his slacks.
What happened?
"I don't know," he decides. He no longer knows if that's a lie. He stares at the photo above Lan Huan and Nie Mingjue's piano. It's of the three of them, Lan Zhan standing to the side as Lan Huan's best man at their wedding.
Lan Huan follows his gaze. "That was a nice day," he says with a soft and sentimental smile. "You were so happy for me, A-Zhan."
He was. He was happy.
Lan Zhan's heart hurts. It's a sharp, burning sensation, a flood of shame washing over him, choking him with the intensity of it all.
More than one person has told Lan Zhan that they don't think he feels emotions. He's never had the words to explain that it's actually quite the opposite - the strength of his emotions overwhelms him at every turn, making it difficult to breathe.
A tear falls down his face.
"A-Zhan?" Lan Huan sounds concerned, Lan Zhan thinks, and maybe a bit bewildered. He wishes everyone were as easy to read as Lan Huan.
"Wei Ying likes men."
"Okay."
"I don't like that Wei Ying likes men."
"Ah."
Lan Zhan stares down at his hands.
"Did Wei Ying tell you this just now?" Lan Huan asks. He doesn't sound angry. Lan Zhan hopes to god that he's not angry.
Lan Zhan shakes his head. "Mn."
"When you first met?"
Lan Zhan nods.
Lan Huan is silent for a moment. Lan Zhan can hear a clock ticking. He can hear his own breathing, and the way Lan Huan shifts on the couch. Shifts away from him, he thinks. It's understandable, of course.
"A-Zhan," Lan Huan starts, then stops. "What happens when you see Wei Ying with someone?"
Lan Zhan blinks. He's never been good at this. At sharing his feelings. Or even at describing them, really. He thinks about the mood wheel pasted on his wall at home - the one blemish on the cream paint. Now, though, he can't even ascertain even the broadest of emotions he's feeling.
He taps his chest with the palm of his hand, pressing hard and looking up at Lan Huan. It's the best he can do.
To his surprise, Lan Huan's eyes soften. "A-Zhan," he says, and reaches forward, brushing a strand of hair off of Lan Zhan's forehead. "Do you ever feel this way when you see A-Jue and I?"
Lan Zhan considers this. Slowly, he shakes his head.
Lan Huan smiles. "Then what's different about Wei Ying?"
It's a fair question. It's one Lan Zhan has never considered. He doesn't doubt the legitimacy of it - he's known for a long time that Wei Ying isn't like the others. Wei Ying is a Presence with a capital P. Wei Ying came tearing through his life, carefully picking apart everything Lan Zhan thought he knew. Wei Ying is-
Lan Zhan stands. His cheeks burn.
"A-Zhan?"
Lan Zhan nods. "Wei Ying."
Lan Huan smiles.
Lan Zhan doesn't know what to expect when he enters his apartment. Wei Ying, gone and moving in with his sister? Wei Ying and Song Lan, locked in Wei Ying's bedroom?
What he doesn't expect is the one thing he's come home to countless times. Wei Ying, curled up on the couch, a show he isn't paying attention to on the TV and his phone in his hand.
Wei Ying pauses his show. "Lan Zhan."
Lan Zhan joins Wei Ying on the couch. He does not look at him. He doesn't dare.
"Did you wanna talk, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying's voice is timid in a way Lan Zhan has never heard before. Lan Zhan hates that he's the cause of it.
"Mn."
Wei Ying waits. Wei Ying has never waited before. Lan Zhan isn't sure what to do with that.
"Wei Ying," he says, and closes his eyes.
"Lan Zhan." Wei Ying imitates his tone, and Lan Zhan can hear him shift on the couch beside him.
Right. This was a terrible idea. Lan Zhan should just move out and delete Wei Ying's number and move in with Lan Huan and Nie Mingjue.
Except… Except. That's the problem with Wei Ying, isn't it? He's the one exception to everything Lan Zhan has ingrained in himself over the years. He's the one thing Lan Zhan couldn't bear losing, not like this, with Wei Ying thinking he disproves of him, with Wei Ying paying him back and closing his eyes and refusing to look at him.
Lan Zhan stands. Before Wei Ying can say anything else, he goes to his room, takes the stack of money still lying on his desk, and then comes back into the living room, pressing it into Wei Ying's hands.
Wei Ying laughs nervously. "Lan Zhan," he says, and puts on a grin that doesn't reach his eyes. "It's fine, yeah? I've been a financial burden for long enough, I don't mind."
"Wei Ying is not a burden." Lan Zhan's heart pounds. His throat tightens. He forces himself to swallow the wave of hysteria rising up in him.
"I know you say that," Wei Ying says, and sets the money on the end table behind him. "But I think we both know that's not true, yeah?"
Lan Zhan shakes his head resolutely. "I do not lie. Wei Ying is not a burden."
"Is this you trying to prove that you're not homophobic?" Wei Ying says, starting to babble. "Because, like, it's fine, Lan Zhan, I know it takes some getting used to and I know that-"
"Wei Ying."
Lan Zhan has never cut someone off before. He thinks he likes the way it makes Wei Ying stop and stare.
"You are not a burden," Lan Zhan repeats, his eyes sliding closed again. His head screams at him to stop. His heart pounds its way out of his chest. "I love you. I am in love with you. I am sorry I have acted in an unbecoming way."
The silence in the room makes Lan Zhan wonder if he simply thought those words, not daring to speak them out loud. He hadn't known - didn't know until Lan Huan gently suggested it after calming Lan Zhan down with a mug of tea earlier. Now that he knows, though, he can feel the words begging to burst out of him, to let themselves be known.
"Lan Zhan." Lan Zhan doesn't know what that tone means. When he looks at Wei Ying, he doesn't know what that face means, either.
"Wei Ying," says Lan Zhan, pained.
"I like you," Wei Ying says, voice slow. "You're a very good person, Lan Zhan."
Oh. This is what rejection feels like. Lan Zhan wonders how long it will take him to get used to it.
"I like you very much," continues Wei Ying. "I like to listen to you play your instruments and I like when I'm just barely waking up on the weekend and you're already eating lunch. I like that you can't handle spicy food; I think that's very funny. I think I want to kiss you, now."
Lan Zhan blinks. "Wei Ying?"
Wei Ying laughs, and Lan Zhan could swear the living room gets brighter. "I want to kiss you, Lan Zhan. Can I kiss you? I can't believe I thought you were homophobic. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, how long have you liked me for? I was so scared. Lan Zhan. Can I kiss you, Lan Zhan? Fuck, I can't stop saying your name. You better kiss me right now, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan. Lan-"
Wei Ying's lips are warm and beautiful. They're rough, and his bottom lip is split, but Lan Zhan doesn't care. He doesn't care because he's kissing Wei Ying, and Wei Ying is kissing him back, and can anything be wrong with the world when those two facts are true.
Lan Zhan is drowning, and this is how he is going to die. What a way to go, though, with Wei Ying climbing into his lap like he did last month, except how can that time compare when Wei Yings legs are pressed against his, trapping him in, and Lan Zhan can put his hands on Wei Ying's hips like he's always wanted?
It doesn't compare. Nothing can compare to the way Wei Ying traces kisses down Lan Zhan's neck, to his collar, all the while laughing at Lan Zhan's small gasps that seem to escape without notice.
It feels as though it's been days when Wei Ying finally pulls back, giving Lan Zhan the brightest smile he thinks he's ever seen.
"Wei Ying," says Lan Zhan.
"Lan Zhan," says Wei Ying.
That's it, thinks Lan Zhan, and kisses Wei Ying again. That's all we need to say.