Chapter Text
Jonathan Lan and William Wei first lay eyes on each other, age thirteen, in the third form dormitory and the window of the third form dormitory, respectively.
It is not an auspicious beginning, to say the least.
Twelve hours later, having been solidly birched by the lower house master for not only sneaking out of the dorms in the middle of the night, but also leaving the college grounds, but also attempting to sneak contraband alcohol back into the dorms, Wei lies on his stomach on his bed and howls at the top of his lungs about all of the injustices in the world and how they are all fallen, unaccountably, on his head. His little brother sits beside him, red with humiliation and begging him to “shut up before you get us both in trouble again.”
John proceeds to the next page in his book and tries to ignore them.
Easier said, however, than done.
“Lan.”
“Lan.”
“Lan.”
“Hey, Lan.”
“Lan! Charlie, do you think he’s dea—”
“Don’t call me Charlie!”
“Aaaaarrrrrghh! Don’t hit me! I’m in pain already, Charles. Ow! Have some respect for your elders.”
“Elders my ar—”
“Lan!”
It seems there is only one way out of this. John lifts his head and turns, defeated, in Wei’s direction. He does not favor him with any vocalized response.
No matter. Wei beams at him.
“I really think you ought to be paying more attention to the show over here, Lan, seeing as you’re the one producing it.”
“Will.”
“I mean, really, Charlie. He didn’t have to grass me up, did he?”
John frowns. “I did not grass you up. You broke a rule.”
“So? Was I hurting anyone?”
“Alcohol is forbidden.”
“Yeah, well. You can relax, because I certainly wasn’t planning to share it with you. Although you could definitely use some,” he adds in a stage-whisper that has his brother striking out again. “Aaaaoooooow! Charlie! I’m going to write home and tell Emily all about this and she is going to be exceedingly cross and she probably won’t make you her soup ever again and aaaaaahhhhohjesuschrist!”
“You’re not going to have to write home because you’re going be expelled and you can tell her in person! If you can get to her before mum kills you, that is.”
Judging that he is no longer needed for their conversation, John returns to his book.
“I’m not going to be expelled.”
“You’d better not! Do you know how embarrassing it would be for me if you got kicked out in the first week of school?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”
“Too late!”
“Insults! Lan! Lan, do you believe this? I’m two years older than him! No sense of respect! I bet you don’t treat your brother like this.”
“His brother is a Prefect. You are a twat.”
“Language.” John glances up again to see the siblings staring at him. One in delight, one in gaping dismay.
“Language, Charlie. Owwww!” With a final, well-aimed slap at his brother’s abused body, Charles Jiang stands up and storms past John and out the door.
John looks away from bright, curious eyes and turns the page.