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Lan Wangji doesn't hate his job. In fact he's happy about it, at least for the time being. The Lan family rule is that if he wants to get a graduate degree in something as impractical as poetry, he has to take a job at one of Lan Holdings’ retail properties. But Lan Wangji is nothing if not skilled at following the letter of the law and not its spirit. The makeup artist gig at the Cold Springs Plaza Nordstrom couldn’t have been more perfectly designed to satisfy Lan Wangji and piss Uncle off.
He gets along pretty well with most of his coworkers, and customers like him. He’s gotten a reputation for being the chill guy in the front of the store because he doesn’t say much. This is how he ranked 4th sales across the beauty department despite not trying very hard, and never collecting a single customer’s personal information. The rest of the beauty team has accepted this, except for Gina from the Lime Crime counter. But Gina can mostly be avoided.
The store security team both loves him and hates him. They like him, because since being hired, he’d singlehandedly reduced shrinkage in the beauty department by 10 percent, just by noticing shoplifters, touching them on the shoulder or wrist, and staring them down. However, they also hate him, because he refuses to ever turn shoplifters in, and helps them to leave the store before security can get there to arrest them.
The first time Wei Ying showed up at the NARS counter and asked Lan Wangji to do his makeup, Lan Wangji thought it was a fluke.
“Will you show me how to do a winged eyeliner?” he'd asked.
Lan Wangji nodded, and gestured for him to sit on the stool.
“Just a minute,” he said, rooting through the drawers to find the right eyeliner shade.
Wei Ying did not want to wait a minute. “Lan Wangji,” he said, in a sing-song voice.
“Lan Zhan!”
“Lan er-ge-ge!”
In the interest of being professional, Lan Wangji tried to avoid touching Wei Ying more than necessary. The problem was Wei Ying had a tendency to squirm, to chatter, to fidget, and just generally be a nuisance.
The eyeliner was starting to look good — Wei Ying is very, very beautiful. But—
“Hold still, please,” Lan Wangji tried to keep the tone of begging out of his voice. He’d finished the right eye, and was making every effort to make the left eye match.
Wei Ying was rapidly diminishing his ability to stay calm on the job. He would not hold still and shut up.
"Lan Wangji, ah Lan Wangji,” he was saying, “What are you doing to me? What am I going to look like? Will I be goth? Will I be scary? Or cute? Or scary in a cute way?"
Lan Wangji palmed Wei Ying's chin with a firm grip, and pressed his thumb over Wei Ying's mouth.
"Hold still and be quiet," he said, making every effort to keep his voice calm.
That shut him up.
The eyeliner looked good. It really did.
"Thanks, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying said as he slid off the stool. At the store entrance, he turned back and gave Lan Wangji a cheery wave.
Lan Wangji stared after him for a full five minutes, until Mianmian came over and nudged him.
(Mianmian has worked in the beauty department ever since she justifiably rage-quit Jin Jewelry in the middle of the mall. Lan Wangji got her hired immediately, and sexual harassment charges against Jin Guangshan are pending in court.)
At the time, Lan Wangji figured it was the last he'd see of Wei Ying, given how much he complained while Lan Wangji was doing his makeup.
Of course, he couldn't have been more wrong.
Now, every day, whenever he gets a decently timed lunch break from one of his three jobs, Wei Ying is back at Lan Wangji's makeup counter. Mianmian is openly delighted. Gina is pissed off—but then again Gina's always pissed off, so that's nothing new.
Wei Ying asks for lots of different things. Lan Wangji discovers he can make Wei Ying blush by mentioning the names of NARS products.
“This mascara is called Climax Extreme,” he’ll say in a deadpan voice. “This highlighter is Orgasm.” And a beautiful blushy color, even better than the highlighter, which is very nice highlighter, will come over Wei Ying’s face.
After a week or two, Lan Wangji starts to notice the finer details of Wei Ying’s face, instead of just being bowled over by his beauty. He notices that Wei Ying isn't completely washing the makeup off.
"What's your skincare routine?" he asks.
Wei Ying laughs. "Just... soap? I guess? My routine? Is there something I should be doing?"
Lan Wangji loads him up with product samples but tells him he can get good skincare for a lot cheaper at the drugstore. He wouldn’t normally go into detail, but Gina is glaring directly at him, tap-tapping on her phone. A tiny bit of spite fuels him, and he starts listing product comparisons.
"Haha, Lan Zhan, I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk! If you want to take me makeup shopping so much, you should give me your number!"
And that's how Wei Ying gets Lan Wangji in his contacts.
The next week, Lan Wangji gets a text while he’s getting ready for work. His phone is face down on the bathroom counter when it vibrates.
Bare face baby !!!!! the text reads. Make me look good for my date?
The photo is Wei Ying’s face in a hoodie, messy bangs brushing his eyebrows, sticking out in a soft nest of hair. His lower eyelids are a little puffy, the photo is a little washed out and overexposed, the mole below his lower lip barely visible. His lips are chapped. Lan Wangji tries—he really does—to catalogue any imperfections in this photograph. But Wei Ying’s face is still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He zooms in on the crinkles of his eyes, on the indent in his lip where he bites it.
He knows he can’t leave the message without a reply, but there are no adequate words for Wei Ying’s beauty. Wei Ying is, ostensibly, asking Lan Wangji to look at his face as a canvas for expression. Wei Ying wants to be more eye-catching than he already is.
Impossible, Lan Wangji thinks.
He notices dimly that he left the sink running when he picked up his phone. He turns it off, still holding the phone in his hand. It’s not possible for a man to be this beautiful. It’s not possible that he just waltzed into his life one day, in a shitty mall parking lot and demanded his attention. Continues to demand his attention. Continues to ask him to look directly at him, when he’s so bright, Lan Wangji feels like he’s staring directly into the sun, and his retinas are going to get burned. He can look at a picture on his phone, though, for as long as he wants. Right? It’s not going to hurt.
The problem is, it hurts.
Meet me at the NARS counter at 2, he replies.
Wei Ying shows up at 2:05, barefaced, his hair recently washed. It's his day off, so he’s not dressed for work. He's wearing a soft, oversized red hoodie and silky black soccer shorts that reveal hairy, athletic calves and thighs. His legs are so long. Lan Wangji wants them wrapped around his waist.
Lan Wangji gestures toward the usual stool for Wei Ying to sit down. Wei Ying does, drawing one leg up on the stool. Lan Wangji can see even more thigh when he sits like this. Wei Ying is still chattering away.
“I met a guy on Grindr; we sexted a little; now we’re meeting up for coffee, and I want to look cute. I know you can help me, can’t you Lan Zhan? Make me look good?”
Lan Wangji’s brain is stuck on “We sexted a little.” What does it take to sext “a little” with Wei Ying? What would he send? Photos? Video? Even a few words? What would it take to be the recipient of said sexts?
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying repeats, waving a hand in front of his face. “Hello?”
“I can make you look good,” he says, after a moment. “What do you want.”
“I want to make out, I want … some hot kissing. Like I want someone to maul my face because they can’t keep their hands off me. Kissable—
“Wei Ying!” Lan Wangji interrupts, desperately. “I don’t mean what do you want. I meant: what makeup style do you want?"
"Oh," Wei Ying says in a tiny voice. Does he sound a little disappointed? “Well—what you think is best.”
"Is lipstick going to be an issue?" He ducks under the counter so Wei Ying can’t see his blush, his burning ears. He fumbles with the product with shaking hands and comes back up with a couple of lipsticks.
Lan Wangji is a professional. He is going to ask this question professionally. "Do you want the lipstick to be kissproof or do you want it to smear a bit?
"Ah. Lan Zhan. you’re so smart; what a good question. Um … kissproof? Is that really a thing? How can you tell?"
“We can test it,” Lan Wangji says, priding himself on how calm he sounds. “Come here.”
He cups Wei Ying’s chin in his hand. His warm, alive skin, soft, with the barest hint of stubble. He can’t resist, so he runs his thumb along Wei Ying’s jawline. His eyes flutter shut and his lips part, slightly.
“Perfect. Open your mouth a bit more.”
He is staring directly at Wei Ying’s mouth. Kissable lips. As if anyone could look at that mouth and think about anything else. Okay, Lan Wangji also thinks about how biting those lips. And he also thinks about how that mouth would look around his dick. No, be professional, he tells himself.
“Hold still,” he says, and Wei Ying is more obedient than usual. Lan Wangji removes his hand from Wei Ying's chin to unscrew the lid of the lip color.
He paints the lip color on slowly, deliberately, with the tenderness of the caresses he isn’t giving Wei Ying, not now, not in the middle of the store. But he can’t resist drawing it out, reveling in the moment, even though he’s getting uncomfortably hard in his work slacks.
When he’s finished, Wei Ying’s parted lips are glistening, plump and perfect, the boldest red they had.
“Open your eyes,” he says, and hands Wei Ying the hand mirror. Wei Ying blinks at his reflection.
“Oh,” he says. He’s silent for the longest moment. Lan Wangji’s never seen him so quiet.
"Lan Zhan, you’re a master of your craft. You’re so good. You’re really good at this."
Lan Wangji sets the product down and grips the edge of the counter. “Thank you,” he says.
"It’s really kissproof?"
“You can test it," Lan Wangji says. And then he realizes the implications of what he’s said.
They’re staring directly into each other’s eyes, just a foot apart.
Wei Ying falters “I— we— I can’t— Lan Zhan—”
Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. He knows exactly how incredibly inappropriate he’s being. But with Wei Ying’s plush and glistening red mouth just inches from his own, he finds himself transfixed, unable to look away.
Wei Ying darts forward and grabs Lan Wangji’s hand from the edge of the counter, planting a big smacking kiss on the back of it. It’s quick, but Lan Wangji pulls his hand away as if it’s burned.
He’s laughing, a high-pitched giggle. “There, Lan Zhan, ha, haha, you said I should test it. I did. Did it work?”
Lan Wangji is motionless, stunned.
Wei Ying grabs Lan Wangji’s hand again, and holds it up. “Look, no color transfer!”
Wei Ying is flushed and sweating. Lan Wangji is standing close enough to see the shimmering beads of sweat at his temple. They’re still holding hands.
This is—he can’t believe he let Wei Ying undo him this way. Lan Wangji wants revenge, to make Wei Ying squirm. This feeling—it's the thirst for revenge, right?
Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Wei Ying. Is that how you are going to kiss your date?”
“No, oh my god,” Wei Ying laughs. “What the hell, Lan Zhan? What do you mean?”
“If you want to test if it’s kissproof, you will need a more accurate test.” Lan Wangji closes his mouth and tries to muster his iciest stare. He’s not sure if it’s convincing. He’s certainly not convincing himself.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, you mean, like this?”
Wei Ying rotates Lan Wangji’s palm up, and presses a softer, slower, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of his wrist.
Lan Wangji is burning. It’s the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday in the middle of the shitty mall and Lan Wangji is on fire.
“Better,” he says, with his heart in his throat. “But is that really how you kiss, Wei Ying?”
“You want to see?” Wei Ying murmurs, his lips still against Lan Wangji’s wrist.
“Show me.”
The world has narrowed to this point, the point of connection between Wei Ying’s lips on his wrist.
Beyond the blood rushing in his ears, in the distance, he hears someone calling his name.
“Lan Wangji!”
It’s Mianmian. “Lan Wangji! Your 3:00 appointment is here. It’s Auntie Yao, please don’t keep her waiting!”
He does like Mianmian, but honestly, fuck Mianmian right now. She’s right. He’s being a horrible co-worker.
Wei Ying hops off the stool and bolts out of the store. “Bye Mianmian!” He calls.
“What the hell was that,” Mianmian whispers, pulling Lan Wangji aside. Auntie Yao is eyeing them from another counter, texting aggressively. He imagines the gossip machine is all fired up.
“What the hell, Lan Wangji!” she hisses. “Were you going to make out in the middle of the store? Do you want to get fired or sued?”
“I apologize,” he says.
“You don’t sound even a little bit sorry,” Mianmian retorts.
He sighs inwardly and approaches Auntie Yao. “My apologies for the delay,” he tells her. Just three more hours until he’s off shift. He can make it until then. Two appointments, and another hour of customer service to go.
The moment his shift ends, he walks away from his customer, who is wavering indecisively between retinol serums. “Just get this,” he says, pressing a box into her hand. “It works well.” He doesn’t look back to see what she says.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket. Cancel your date, he texts Wei Ying. Meet me by the back entrance to the mall.
And then, he waits. He hopes.
After about 20 minutes, he realizes how tired he is. Excitement fades into exhaustion. He leans against the brick wall, that’s warm in the California sun, and folds his arms. He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep standing, until he hears Wei Ying's voice.
"Lan Zhan!"
He came back. He didn't change into date clothes; he's still wearing the hoodie and soccer shorts.
It's evening now, and the sunset is filtering through the smog, above the mall buildings, glinting off the cars in the parking lot.
It's evening, and Wei Ying came back.
"Come with me," Lan Wangji says, and grabs Wei Ying's hand. It's warm and dry in his grasp. He unlocks a side door that leads to a narrow utility staircase. In a stairwell that smells like old burgers and paint thinner, they climb up to the roof of the mall.
Lan Wangji isn't sure what he loves most about Wei Ying—or even when he started loving him. But the expression of pure delight on his face, when he sees something beautiful, is very, very close to the top of the list.
Lan Wangji would break a lot of rules to see that look.
They turn toward each other, Wei Ying's eyes shining. "It's so beautiful Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says. "I didn't know you could see the ocean from here."
"Your lipstick," Lan Wangji says. "It stayed on."
Wei Ying grins, and his smile is brighter than the sun. "Do you still want to test it out?"
Lan Wangji does.
The lipstick isn't completely kissproof, as it turns out. Fortunately, Lan Wangji brought makeup wipes in his pocket. They stay on the roof till the sun goes down, trading kisses, trading breathless laughs. The night is young, and the night is theirs.