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A dress should not be this scary.
Well, that’s not strictly true. Wei Ying has definitely seen dresses that were meant to be scary, like the blood-spattered wedding dress he’d decorated with his siblings one halloween. Looking back, his reluctance to part with it at the end of the night should possibly have been some kind of clue.
Regardless. This dress shouldn’t be scary. It’s just a nice dress, made in a stretch fabric with a cute grey and red flower pattern on it. When Wei Ying holds it against himself in the mirror, it falls to just above his knees, and has both a modest neckline and sleeves. There’s nothing daring about it at all, except that he’s the one who wants to wear it.
Downstairs, Wei Ying can hear his husband and son talking to each other. It’s nearly ten o’clock, and according to their strictly-followed Sunday routine that means Wei Ying should come down soon to eat the fancy breakfast they’ve been cooking. Youtiao, he thinks, from the dough they were making yesterday evening.
Fuck it , he thinks to himself, throwing the dress onto the bed. If it all goes horribly wrong, he’ll just - he’ll just laugh it off. Lan Zhan probably won’t believe him but Lan Zhan can’t actually force him to talk about it. Probably.
Wei Ying shimmies out of his sleepwear and into the old pair of tights he bought for a costume once and didn’t throw away. He shuts his eyes before pulling the dress on.
The fabric squishes against the bare skin of his stomach. The skirt starts high and hangs loose in a way he isn’t used to. Still not looking, Wei Ying tugs down the skirt so that it lies evenly, then slowly opens his eyes.
The dress looks… good. Surprisingly good, actually. Despite knowing full well that he’s the kind of fey twink that can pull off drag just fine, there was still a part of his mind envisaging a hideous monster as soon as he tried to do it seriously.
He doesn’t look like a hideous monster. He also doesn’t look quite like a woman, but that wasn’t really the goal. He doesn’t feel like a woman either; he just feels like Wei Ying. And Wei Ying looks good in a dress.
For a moment, his gaze sticks on the old box full of make-up that Mo Xuanyu drunkenly gave him at a party once. He could try make-up. But he’s running out of time. While some of his friends have a full skincare routine locked down into ten minutes, he knows that shit takes practice and he doesn’t have that kind of time right now.
Fuck it, he thinks again. They’re just going to the park. He doesn’t need to get dressed up to go to the park. Just the dress is fine to feed the ducks in.
He takes another second to check his reflection in the mirror, steels himself and goes downstairs and into the kitchen.
‘Good morning!’ he says, like he does every morning.
Lan Zhan is sitting at the table, reading a book. He looks up as Wei Ying enters, and Wei Ying can see the second he clocks the dress. His warm look freezes in shock for just a second and his eyes widen. Wei Ying feels his stomach drop.
Before Lan Zhan can say anything though, A-Yuan comes rushing in and crashes directly into Wei Ying’s legs. Wei Ying stumbles slightly, flailing to regain his balance. He looks down to see A-Yuan is already grinning up at him.
‘Good morning radish! I see you’re practicing your bowling technique today.’
A-Yuan just giggles. ‘Silly baba,’ he says, and steps away to be picked up.
Wei Ying tuts at him. ‘You almost knocked me over, and now you want me to pick you up?’
‘Yes,’ A-Yuan says, with the certainty of a child who has never been denied anything in his life ever. Wei Ying can’t help but laugh at him.
‘Well when you put it like that,’ he says, and bends down to pick up up again, grumbling absently about his old bones as he does. A-Yuan pats his shoulders, inspecting the dress with an intense focus. Wei Ying tries not to tense up, because A-Yuan will notice if he does.
'Wow! Baba looks pretty!'
Relief runs through him. Wei Ying almost wants to laugh from it. Of course A-Yuan wouldn’t care about him wearing a dress. He’s five years old, they don’t even know what a gender is at that age beyond what toy commercials are trying to swell them. But then, they don’t have a television in the house so A-Yuan’s managed to avoid the majority of those.
‘Thank you, nugget, Wei Ying replies. He gives A-Yuan a kiss on the cheek, which earns him a grumpy little frown. Despite trying to rub the kiss off, A-Yuan seems happy to stay in Wei Ying’s arms for now, so rather than put him down he shifts him over to one hip. His dress moves weirdly as he does, and he has to spend a second tugging it back into place while also holding A-Yuan.
By the time he looks up again and searches for Lan Zhan, his husband seems to have recovered from his earlier shock. Either that, or he’s just figured out that he can hide it better by getting up and turning around to finish cooking the youtiao.
Pushing down his worry, Wei Ying strikes a pose. 'What about a-die, does he think that baba looks beautiful?'
Lan Zhan stops in the middle of turning back around, hands full of plates. Wei Ying sees pink spread to his ears.
‘Baba always looks beautiful,’ he replies.
Normally this would make Wei Ying’s heart stutter, and he would blush and complain about Lan Zhan being too sincere. Today, his heart still stutters, but it’s anxiety instead. Lan Zhan’s words ring strangely hollow and the part of Wei Ying’s brain that wants to drag him into a spiral is already picking at it for any negative meaning.
He shoves those thoughts to the side. A-Yuan is wriggling to get down and breakfast is going to get cold and they have a park to get to.
Their day is busy, in the way that having a small child makes even simple things busy. Wei Ying feels his heart in his chest the whole time they’re out of the house, but he doesn’t get shouted at on the street. Most people don’t even seem to notice anything unusual about his appearance; the worst the get is a waitress who apparently can’t determine if Wei Ying is a ‘sir’ or a ‘madam’ and smashes the two into ‘smadam’ before running away. We Ying bursts out laughing as soon as she’s a safe distance away, leaving Lan Zhan to try and explain what’s so funny to their confused son. He’s smiling when they make eye contact though, which is… reassuring.
While Wei Ying is busy being an active parent, it’s easy to ignore the worries running round his head. But once A-Yuan is in bed, they return with a vengeance.
When Lan Zhan comes to find him, Wei Ying is sitting on the couch, picking at his tights. They’re starting to get uncomfortable after a whole day of wear. He can understand, now, why Wen Qing would strip them off immediately on getting home, back when they lived together. He can’t quite bring himself to change yet though.
Lan Zhan leans in to give him a kiss as he approaches. Wei Ying turns his head to receive it automatically, but even this feels sort of stilted and weird.
'What's wrong?' Lan Zhan asks when he pulls away.
Wei Ying considers lying, or brushing it off, but unfortunately Lan Zhan has a knack for knowing when Wei Ying is lying to him. Even if he lets it go now, he’ll keep coming back to it until Wei Ying gives him a real answer. It’s a habit he’s picked up through bitter experience, so Wei Ying can’t even blame him.
‘You didn’t say much about my outfit today?’ Wei Ying says. It’s a start.
Lan Zhan pauses, then sits down on the coffee table so that he’s facing Wei Ying. He reaches out to put a hand on Wei Ying’s ankle and rubs it with his thumb. The sound of his thumb on the material of the tights is strange.
'I did not know if you wanted to draw attention to it,' he replies.
Wei Ying lets out a breath he didn’t notice he was holding. ‘Oh! Yeah, I mean, I guess I didn’t - I don’t. I mean, it’s just a dress isn’t it? It’s an item of clothing, it’s not a big deal - or it shouldn’t be at least.’ He’s rambling. He can feel the rush of adrenaline in his system and it’s making him babble. ‘I know we’ve spoken vaguely about gender before but I didn’t really know how to bring it up, and then I saw this dress online and I thought it was cute so I just bought it and wore it and - I don’t know I guess I was expecting you to say something and then you didn’t and it was all just a bit, I don’t know. Like I’d worked myself into a state over something that didn’t even matter to you?’
Lan Zhan keeps listening while he talks, eyes fixed on Wei Ying’s face and thumb still rubbing circles on his ankle. Lan Zhan’s gaze can be intense, but right now it feels safe. It’s a sign that Lan Zhan is listening, really listening to what he has to say.
‘Do you want it to matter to me?’ he asks, once Wei Ying has indicated he’s done talking.
‘I don’t know!’
He throws his hands in the air then buries his face in them. Once again, Lan Zhan has cut right to the heart of the issue. He doesn’t know. That’s the problem with cultivating an ‘act first, ask questions later’ attitude to life: Wei Ying just does things, and he doesn’t always know why.
A pair of gentle but firm hands grasp Wei Ying’s wrists and tug them down and away. Lan Zhan is looking at him again.
'If you want it to matter to me then I am very sorry for not saying anything. I am excited that you are exploring new parts of yourself. I want to know you, all of you, in every way.'
Now that’s just unfairly romantic. Wei Ying squirms, tugging his hands back to cover his face again and whining Lan Zhan’s name in outrage. Lan Zhan lets him, though he thinks he catches a glimpse of a smirk before his face is hidden again.
He feels Lan Zhan get up from the coffee table and come and sit next to him, putting a hand on his thigh instead of his ankle. Wei Ying sighs after a moment and cuddles into him.
They’re quiet for a minute, before Lan Zhan speaks: 'Do you want to tell me about the dress?' he asks. 'You do look very beautiful in it.'
Wei Ying sighs, whacking him gently for the unsolicited compliment. Lan Zhan doesn’t attempt to dodge.
'I just, I don't know. It's complicated.'
Lan Zhan remains quiet, rubbing Wei Ying's leg. Wei Ying sighs, and tries again.
'It's complicated and I don't even know how to explain it. I wanted to wear a dress and I don't know how much of it is that I just want to wear a dress and I think it's stupid that men can't wear dresses, or how much of it is that I don't want to be a man myself, I just - I just know that I felt good when I saw myself in the mirror, you know?'
There's a long pause, but it's the kind of pause that means Lan Zhan is thinking.
'I don't,' he says. 'But I am listening.'
Wei Ying lets out a laugh. 'Of course not. But thanks. I guess I just. I don't know a lot of things but I want to keep wearing dresses sometimes.' He looks up, suddenly afraid. 'Is that ok? I know you identify as gay and that -'
Lan Zhan shuts him up with a kiss. It's warm and deep and feels like being home.
'Anything is okay if it is you,' he replies. Wei Ying melts.
'Okay,' he says. 'Gender is stupid anyway.'
Lan Zhan kisses him again. 'Wei Ying,' he says when they pull apart.
'Yeah?'
There’s another moment of hesitation, as Lan Zhan seems to struggle with how to say something. Wei Ying waits.
‘When we are speaking English, would you prefer me to use a different set of pronouns?’
Despite the contents of the conversation up till now, the question takes Wei Ying by surprise.
'I hadn't thought about it,' he replies. 'I think... I think he is fine for now? Can I let you know if that changes?'
'Yes.'
'... Do you think you could...' he hesitates, then decides to go for it. 'Do you think you could stop describing me as your husband for a while? Would that be okay?' He panics suddenly. ‘Not because I don’t want to be married to you I love being married to you-’
Lan Zhan shuts him up with another kiss. 'Yes. Of course. My spouse, my partner, my soulmate, the love of my life-’
Wei Ying smacks a hand over Lan Zhan's mouth before he can say anything else. Lan Zhan stares back at him, amused and unrepentant.
'Lan Zhaaan!' he whines, pouting at him. ‘Stop being so romantic and kiss your poor beleaguered spouse!’
Lan Zhan does as he’s told.