Work Text:
“Come on, Jiang Cheng, it’ll be fun!”
It’s a Thursday afternoon, and Thursday afternoons are Yunmeng Heroes afternoons. Or, so they’ve established, after Wei Ying’s adoptive brother decided to get a place of his own and moved out of the apartment he had shared with Wei Ying since they had started college. Usually, Jiang Yanli would join them too for a few hours filled with tea and cheap beer and snacks and board games, but she’s still recovering from giving birth to her first child, so all the siblings can do right now is facetime her as often as they can.
Yunmeng Heroes afternoons means the Jiangs only, and no one else. ‘Quality Sibling Time’ is what his sister likes to call it, and Wei Ying cherishes these moments. He’s had his difficulties with his adoptive parents and broke off every form of contact with them a while ago; a fact with which Jiang Cheng still struggles sometimes. Yet both Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng - and Jiang Yanli, if she can make it – adore these afternoons that they claimed for themselves only, to mend and nurture their relationship, and sometimes gossip about friends and work.
Mostly to gossip about friends and work.
Jiang Cheng’s face looks even more sombre than usual, backlit by the light filtering through Wei Ying’s kitchen window. He opens the fridge to grab his second bottle of beer for the day.
“Leave me alone, idiot. I said I don’t want to. Since when do you even care about baseball , of all things?”
“I don’t?” Wei Ying replies. “Doesn’t mean I can’t spend a nice afternoon at a game with people I care about.”
Jiang Cheng looks at him and scrunches up his nose. “Why the heck do you have tickets for a baseball game if you don’t even care about baseball?”
“It was the Wens’ turn to cook the other day, and Wen Ning had the radio on. They had this thing where you could call the radio station and win tickets, and since the baseball game is a charity fundraiser too, I thought there was no harm in trying.” Wei Ying takes another sip of his beer. “I called just for the fun of it. Didn’t think I would actually win, but here we are.”
Jiang Cheng raises an eyebrow. “And what about the Wens?”
Wei Ying shakes his head. “Wen Qing has a shift at the hospital that day, and Wen Ning has to study for a test and help Popo with A-Yuan, so they’re both out of the question. I’m sure A-Yuan would have enjoyed the atmosphere of the game, but he’s just recovered from a cold, and Wen Qing is worried he might catch something else with so many people around.”
“Look,” Jiang Cheng begins. “It’s not only that I really don’t like baseball. If I had some kind of online meeting or something I’d totally use that game as a pretext to postpone it because I hate online meetings more than I hate baseball, but uh, actually — I do have a meeting with Mother, that day.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So I really couldn’t go with you, even if I wanted to.”
Wei Ying knows it’s not a lie; joking or lying about Madam Yu is something that one simply does not do in the Jiang household. He sighs and looks at the tickets that sit forlornly on the kitchen counter. Even if neither he nor Jiang Cheng enjoy baseball, Wei Ying is sure they could have turned this into an absolute blast.
Jiang Cheng takes another swig of his beer and puts the bottle on the counter. “Why don’t you ask that boyfriend of yours?”
Wei Ying blinks at him. “Huh?”
Jiang Cheng all but rolls his eyes at him. “You and the younger Lan? You’ve been practically glued at the hip since Heaven knows when. Why don’t you ask him?”
Wei Ying nearly chokes on his saliva.
“What are you on about? Lan Zhan’s not my boyfriend?!”
Wei Ying is far from being opposed to the idea of Lan Zhan being his boyfriend. He’d like that very much, actually, but — no. They’re best friends. Wei Ying is convinced Lan Zhan doesn’t like him that way, and Wei Ying is not going to jeopardise their friendship for something that might be one-sided.
Jiang Cheng pulls a face as if someone had put a particularly sour grape into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever. Ask him if he’d go with you since you follow each other anywhere like besotted puppies anyway.”
Wei Ying considers it. Lan Zhan is a fit person, but he’s more interested in things like yoga and swimming and tàijíquán rather than baseball. Still, Lan Zhan is his favourite person in the world, besides his sister, and Wei Ying would jump at any opportunity to spend time with him.
Also, it would be for charity, and Lan Zhan does much charity work on the side, so…why not?
“Okay, I’ll ask him,” Wei Ying decides and fishes his phone out of the pocket of his jeans.“Wait. Really?” Jiang Cheng asks, incredulous.
“Weren’t you the one who suggested that I ask him?” Wei Ying counters, fingers hovering over the screen.
“I mean go ahead; I just didn’t think you’d go through with it. He doesn’t seem the baseball-type,” Jiang Cheng argues.
“Yeah no, I don’t think he is,” Wei Ying says, “but I’ll ask anyway. The worst that can happen is that he declines.”
***
Lan Zhan does not decline. They meet in front of the stadium, with masses of people already waiting in line to enter.
Wei Ying takes one look at the crowd and at Lan Zhan’s face and isn’t so sure anymore that he’s made the right decision, because Lan Zhan, even though his face remains as calm as usual to anyone else, looks less than enthusiastic about the masses of people to Wei Ying.
He briefly wonders when exactly he had learned to read Lan Zhan’s expressions so well. Then again, they had known each other since high school.
“Lan Zhan?” he asks carefully. “Are you okay? I mean we don’t have to go inside if you really don’t want to, we could just — “
Lan Zhan shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he says. “Let us get in the queue.”
And so, they enter the stadium. It turns out to be less packed than Wei Ying had anticipated. It’s his first time inside a baseball stadium, and he takes a few moments to take it all in - the bright lights, the green field below, the huge screens looming above the grandstand.
“Woooow”, he goes as they make their way to their assigned seats. “This place is bigger than I thought it would be!”
Lan Zhan only nods but doesn’t sit down. “I saw that they serve hot beverages and was going to get myself a cup of tea,” he says. “Do you want anything?”
“A coffee with cream and sugar would be amazing, Lan Zhan, thank you,” Wei Ying replies and beams up at him.
Lan Zhan disappears in the crowd, and Wei Ying takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the field below to post on his social media accounts. It doesn’t take long for Lan Zhan to reappear with a Styrofoam cup in each hand.
Wei Ying inhales the fragrance of his coffee and takes a careful sip. “Say, Lan Zhan, are you free after this? We could get dinner together, what do you say?”
Lan Zhan smiles at him. It’s a tiny soft smile, but Wei Ying knows that Lan Zhan only smiles at him like that, and it turns his knees into mush.
“I’d really love that,” he replies, “but I don’t feel like eating out. We could go to my apartment and order in?”
“Awesome!” Wei Ying says, and then: “You know, I didn’t think you’d agree to come here with me, with all the people and whatnot. Plus, I didn’t think you like baseball, so…”
“I do not particularly care for baseball, no,” Lan Zhan says, “and I also don’t particularly care for crowds, but we have both been busy lately, so when you asked me, I was glad to agree. I really missed you, Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying blinks. His face feels hot. “I – I missed you too, Lan Zhan! You must be so happy to get out of your stuffy doctor’s office, for once.”
“My practice is not stuffy.”
Wei Ying laughs. He’s been to Lan Zhan’s pediatric office a few times with A-Yuan when the Wens couldn’t make time, and he knows that the place is bright, always well-ventilated, and never smells of antiseptics. There are decals of animals painted on the walls. Wei Ying loves them.
He loves them almost as much as he loves Lan Zhan.
He clears his throat.
“Oh, don’t be offended, I know it isn’t,” he says. “A-Yuan sends his greetings, by the way. He says you must be a Magic gege since you gave him stuff that made his cold go away.”
Lan Zhan smiles at the mention of A-Yuan. Wei Ying knows that Lan Zhan is fond of children in general, but he seems to have taken a special liking to A-Yuan.
“I am glad to hear that he is feeling better,” Lan Zhan says. “My brother has a few free tickets for the waterpark. Maybe you and the Wens could take him there for a fun afternoon once the weather turns warmer again.”
Wei Ying fondly shakes his head. “You’re spoiling him! Thank you, Lan Zhan, I am sure he’ll love it.”
After that, the game begins, and Wei Ying tries to follow it to the best of his abilities, he really does, but – he knows literally nothing about baseball, and what’s happening down on the field confuses him. He only lasts a while before he fishes out his phone again and starts scrolling through his social media.
He glances over at Lan Zhan, who sits there with his powder blue scarf around his neck and his braided long hair and unfairly long eyelashes and –
Heavens, he’s gorgeous, Wei Ying thinks. He could stare at him for hours.
Lan Zhan glances over at him. Wei Ying looks away, flustered, and directs his attention back to his phone.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when a break in the game is being announced. Lan Zhan excuses himself to use the restroom and dispose of their empty cups while Wei Ying attempts to snap a few selfies, just to pass the time.
It takes Lan Zhan a bit longer to return this time, but the baseball game hasn’t resumed yet. Instead, there are some semi-interactive games being broadcast on the screens over the grandstands to entertain the audience. Wei Ying pays them no mind; he’s busy sending Lan Zhan a funny video involving rabbits and kittens.
Lan Zhan feels his phone vibrating, takes it out to watch the video, and shakes his head at Wei Ying, a smile on his face.
“You could have just shown me this,” he says – or rather: shouts. The crowd is still surprisingly loud despite the game being on pause.
Wei Ying shrugs but smiles back. “It’s more fun this way,” he yells back and watches as Lan Zhan reads a text message he must have gotten from his brother or his uncle, and composes a reply.
He doesn’t want to invade Lan Zhan’s privacy too much by looking at what he’s typing, so he looks around aimlessly, trying to distract himself from the boredom that threatens to settle in his mind for good. He can’t even talk to Lan Zhan over the buzzing hum created by the audience; he’d either have to scream or to whisper into Lan Zhan’s ear, and neither of both options seems very appealing right now, albeit for very different reasons.
Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of red catches Wei Ying’s attention. He turns to look at the jumbotron screens of the arena and freezes when he recognises his own face, looking as bewildered as a deer caught in headlights.
His face, and Lan Zhan’s, who seems to have noticed it at the same time he did, surrounded by a bright red heart cut-out, adorned with the words “Kiss Cam” in a hot pink sparkly font.
Wei Ying swallows and looks at Lan Zhan, who turns to direct his gaze towards him. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s been dreaming about kissing Lan Zhan for ages, about what it would feel like to brush his own lips against the peach petals of Lan Zhan’s mouth, about how warm and soft it might be. For one split second, Wei Ying can picture it: him leaning in, in slow motion, Lan Zhan not moving at first but then gravitating towards him as if pulled by a magnet while their eyes fall shut.
It’s what would be expected of them, since the Kiss Cam targeted them specifically. At the same time, Wei Ying realises how messed up it is to expect people to kiss for other people’s entertainment. He could just lean in and kiss Lan Zhan’s cheek — it would still be a kiss, wouldn’t it? They’re friends. They like each other; it’s not Lan Zhan’s fault that Wei Ying had the audacity to fall hopelessly in love with him. A kiss on the cheek should be fine, right? The audience would get their kiss, Wei Ying would spare Lan Zhan the embarrassment of being booed by the crowd should they not kiss at all, Lan Zhan wouldn’t be forced to kiss someone if he doesn’t want to, and Wei Ying…well. Wei Ying would at least get a taste of what it would be like to be so close to the one he loves, so intimate, even for just a moment.
That would be enough.
All these thoughts race through Wei Ying’s mind at the speed of light. He’s sure only seconds have passed since the Kiss Cam landed on them, and he’s about to chuckle and say “Ah Lan Zhan, just turn your face, okay?” to place a kiss on Lan Zhan’s cheek —
when Lan Zhan reaches out, tenderly cradles Wei Ying’s cheek, leans in, and slots their lips together.
Wei Ying freezes, then melts instantly. Lan Zhan’s lips are warm and taste faintly of sweet tea. He can smell the sandalwood soap Lan Zhan swears by and feel the heat that radiates off his body enveloping him like a cloud.
If the crowd cheers because of the kiss, Wei Ying doesn’t hear it. All he can register is the frantic beating of his own heart, dancing in his chest to the rhythm of “ Lan Zhan Lan Zhan Lan Zhan ”.
Just as he reaches up to pull Lan Zhan into an embrace, it’s over. Lan Zhan pulls back, breaking the kiss. They stare at each other, wide-eyed, before Lan Zhan clears his throat.
“The game is about to resume,” he says, still close enough that Wei Ying can hear him without having to strain his ears too much.
“Oh. Right. The game,” he says and chuckles awkwardly, then directs his gaze onto the playing field and intends to keep it there. If he looks at Lan Zhan and Lan Zhan happens to look back at him? Wei Ying isn’t sure if he could stop himself from tackling Lan Zhan and kissing the living daylights out of him, right there in the stadium.
So Wei Ying watches the game and registers absolutely nothing of it. How could he, if his thoughts keep circling back to the kiss? He wonders if Lan Zhan feels the same, if his heart is beating just as wildly, if he can still feel the phantom touch of Wei Ying’s lips on his own.
A touch to the shoulder brings him back to the present.
“Wei Ying…it’s time to go. Are you alright?” Lan Zhan asks.
Wei Ying blinks. He hadn’t even noticed that the game was over. He looks around at the people filing out of the arena and gets up so hastily that he almost drops his coat.
“No yeah, I’m fine, ha,” he replies. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”
They wait until most of the people have left the arena so they can exit it without having to squeeze. Once out, they both make their way over to Lan Zhan’s car, accompanied by Wei Ying’s incessant chatter. He’s positively excited, and he feels as if he’s going to explode if he doesn’t let it all out by talking Lan Zhan’s ears off.
“So, what do you have in mind for dinner?”, he asks. “Are you going to cook yourself, or do you feel more like ordering in? You know I really adore your cooking, Lan Zhan, so I’ll eat anything you’ll make, but there’s this noodle place – the one we ordered from last month? Their noodles were divine, so if you’re not up for cooking we could – “
Wei Ying closes his mouth. Lan Zhan is looking at him – or rather, his body is turned towards Wei Ying, but he isn’t looking at him. He has one hand on the car door handle but doesn’t open it. Wei Ying notices that Lan Zhan’s fingers are trembling.
“Lan Zhan…?” he asks.
“I –“. Lan Zhan clears his throat. “Wei Ying, I am sorry.”
Wei Ying feels as if he just swallowed a cactus. “Sorry? What for, Lan Zhan?”
“For…earlier. In the stadium,” Lan Zhan says. He still doesn’t look at Wei Ying.
“Oh. The kiss?”
Lan Zhan nods. Wei Ying’s heart constricts.
„I should…I should not have done it. I apologise. I need some time to think. Would it be…alright if we postponed our dinner?”
Wei Ying swallows. Hard. He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He has to retry two times before he can speak.
“Yeah yeah, that’s – that’s fine, Lan Zhan. Anything you want.”
Lan Zhan nods again. “Would you like me to drop you off?” he asks.
He’s trying to be kind , Wei Ying realises, to let me down easy . He can’t stand it.
“Nah I’ll be alright, I’ll just take the subway and walk the rest of the way,” he assures him. “I’ll text you when I get home. Have a good night, Lan Zhan!”
He turns and leaves before Lan Zhan can insist on driving him home. Before he can see Wei Ying’s heart breaking on his face. He doesn’t cry on the subway, nor on the short walk he has to take to the flat he shares with the Wens now instead of with his brother. He shoots off a text message spelling “Home!” to Lan Zhan once he enters the building but doesn’t wait for a reply.
The apartment smells of soup and other dishes being prepared. From the hallway, Wei Ying can hear that the radio is on, and that both of the Wen siblings are engaged in conversation while tinkering around the kitchen. The kitchen door is open so they can see A-Yuan sitting on the living room floor and watch him while he’s busy hosting a tea party for his stuffed animals.
As much as Wei Ying loves his second family, he doesn’t think that he can face any of them at the present time. As quietly as he can, he hangs his coat and scarf and takes off his shoes. He makes a beeline for his room and closes the door behind him without saying Hello to anyone else in the apartment.
It’s only when he’s sure that no one is going to come bothering him in the next thirty minutes that he takes out his phone. Lan Zhan, as always, has replied with his usual “I am glad. Sleep well” that he always sends whenever Wei Ying lets him know that he made it home safely.
This time, there’s a second text message that says: “I am sorry, Wei Ying.”
Four words. Four small words that should not mean that much.
And yet, knowing that these words have been typed by Lan Zhan and are there for him to be seen, hurts Wei Ying more than having his own heart carved out.
He should probably delete the message so he won’t see it anymore. He can’t. He knows that Lan Zhan isn’t cruel; he doesn’t doubt that his apologies are as heartfelt as sincere as Lan Zhan is trying to make them sound, but it doesn’t help to make the truth any easier to bear.
The truth being: Lan Zhan does not love him.
He probably even didn’t want to kiss Wei Ying, not really. In all likelihood, he just felt so pressured by the whole stupid Kiss Cam thing that he went for it because he didn’t want to embarrass Wei Ying. And Wei Ying’s treacherous lovesick heart jumped to conclusions.
They’re friends, and they’ll probably continue to be friends. Nothing more. Never more. Wei Ying will just have to get used to it.
The thought of having Lan Zhan by his side as his friend should comfort him, but all he wants to do is curl up into a ball and cry. So he does just that, hugging his pillow to his chest and weeping as quietly as he can so he doesn’t worry the others.
Wei Ying doesn’t know how long he’s been lying on his bed like a depressed armadillo when there’s a knock on his door. Wen Qing opens it and lets herself in. She carries a glass of water and a steaming bowl, which she sits down on Wei Ying’s nightstand before lying down next to him, her chest to his back, and gently putting an arm around his waist.
“Baseball really has to be an awful game if it leaves you in such a state,” she jokes and actually manages to coax a wet snort out of Wei Ying.
“Thought we didn’t notice you coming home, didn’t you?” she asks, fully knowing the answer. “Silly boy. Now sit up, wipe your face, and eat and drink something. A-Ning made egg flower soup.”
Wei Ying wants to reply that he isn’t hungry, but he knows that Wen Qing won’t budge until he has something substantial in his stomach. So, he does as he’s being told and finishes the water and the bowl of soup, which turns out to be quite comforting.
“Now tell me,” Wen Qing says, and because Wei Ying can’t hide anything from her, he tells her about the kiss and about Lan Zhan’s rejection.
“At least I know for sure where I’m at now,” Wei Ying sniffles miserably.
Wen Qing shakes her head. “I…don’t think so. Are you sure that you understood him right?”
“Qingqing,” Wei Ying says, weary. “What is there not to understand about ‘I should not have done it. I apologise. I need some time to think .’?”
“I’m just wondering,” she says, undeterred. “I’ve seen you together, and I know how he looks at you when he thinks you’re not noticing. I don’t understand why he said that, but I don’t think that’s the end of it.”
Wei Ying lets out a sigh and shakes his head in defeat. “I know you mean well, Wen Qing, but – what is there left to hope for? I should be happy if he still wants to hang out sometimes. And I will be. It just, like – really hurts right now.”
“I know,” Wen Qing says and runs a hand along Wei Ying’s cheek to catch a few of his tears. “But promise me to answer him when he calls, or to reply to his text when he does, with an open heart and an open mind. Or to call or message him in a few days, shouldn’t he do so first.”
“Wen Qing –“
“Promise me.”
Wei Ying looks at her and swallows again. He knows there’s no use in protesting, so he nods. “I promise, Qing-jie.”
Wen Qing offers him a smile and hugs him. “Good boy,” she playfully says, making Wei Ying chuckle. “Now go into the living room. A-Yuan saw you come in and now he’s worried.”
***
Lan Huan is about to pour himself another cup of tea when a loud slam startles him out of his wits.
He puts down his cup and the teapot and rushes into the living room. Lan Zhan’s text message after returning home from his outing with Wei Ying had sounded so strange to Lan Huan that he decided to stop by Lan Zhan’s flat, just to see if everything’s alright, and to keep him company if not.
Lan Huan had found him sitting at the piano, food untouched, playing piece after piece, growing more unsatisfied and restless with every passing minute. Just now, he discovers that his brother must have slammed down the cover of the piano keys with force, for he finds him still sitting on the piano bench, elbows resting on the closed lid and his face buried in his hands.
He’s last seen Lan Zhan this distraught after their mother’s passing. As gently as he can, he sits down on the piano bench next to Lan Zhan and rests a hand on his shoulder as an invitation to talk.
Lan Zhan removes his hands from his face and balls them into fists in his lap. Lan Huan is shocked to discover that his brother’s eyes are watery and rimmed with red.
“A-Zhan,” he says as gently as he can. “Didi, what happened?”
Lan Zhan exhales loudly. His hands are shaking on his knees.
“Brother, I think…I made a huge mistake,” he admits, more a whisper than anything else.
Lan Huan takes one of Lan Zhan’s hands and drags him from the piano to the couch, then goes to fix them both a fresh cup of tea. When he’s sure that Lan Zhan has finished at least half of the cup, he sits back down next to his brother.
“Did anything happen at the game?”, Lan Huan asks.
“I kissed Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan confesses.
“Oh,” Lan Huan says, confused. “But then – why are you sad? You’ve been in love with him for years…did he reject you?”
“Wei Ying…did not wish to be kissed,” Lan Zhan says, explaining to his brother how the Kiss Cam had landed on them, how Lan Zhan had thought he would be sparing them both the embarrassment of being booed by the crowd if he was to deny the kiss…and also how his heart had longed for it, hijacked his brain, and spurred him into action without asking for Wei Ying’s explicit consent first.
Lan Huan listens to all of this, humming in thought. “Did he seem angry at you when you left the stadium?”, he inquires.
“Not exactly,” Lan Zhan says, “but he kept on talking the same way he does when he’s trying to mask his discomfort.”
“Are you certain he was expressing discomfort and not just…trying to get out some of his nervous energy?” Lan Huan asks, not unkindly.
Lan Zhan nods. “I am positive. When I suggested that we postpone our dinner, he seemed very eager to get away from me.”
Lan Huan takes another sip of his tea, considering the whole situation. He has witnessed how Wei Ying acts around Lan Zhan and cannot imagine that the man doesn’t have feelings for his brother, but…if it should really be the case, if Wei Ying really rejected Lan Zhan, then Lan Huan is going to have a few choice words with him. Still, Lan Huan reminds himself that he shouldn’t meddle too much.
“A-Zhan,” he says, “I understand you are very emotional right now, so rest up for tonight, and maybe tomorrow as well. But please, do me a favour and try talking to Wei Ying, and don’t wait too long before you do so. Chances are he’ll contact you first, and if not…there could be many reasons why he doesn’t. Just – please don’t immediately assume the worst. You have been friends for so long; I doubt that something like this could destroy what you already have.”
Lan Huan feels Lan Zhan swallow next to him more than he hears him.
“Wei Ying is everything to me,” he says, barely audible. “I’ll gladly take everything he’d be willing to freely give me, even if that means that I could only call him mine in friendship.”
Lan Huan nods. “I know. Would you like me to stay until morning, didi?”
Lan Zhan hesitates, but then he nods, and Lan Huan’s heart breaks. Lan Zhan rarely asks for things, comfort being one of them. The brothers aren’t very open or tactile in their display of affection, but they do love each other deeply, and if Lan Zhan admits that he wants his brother to stay the night - well, it only shows in just how much distress he really is.
“I’ll make us some dinner,” Lan Huan says and glances at his brother just in time to see Lan Zhan wipe another stray tear from his face.
Lan Huan doesn’t hold grudges, not really. Wei Ying is a nice young man, but if Lan Huan uses meal prep time to think of ways to make Wei Ying pay for breaking his brother’s heart should they not be able to rectify this situation themselves – that is his secret to keep.
***
The days pass, and the pain doesn’t fade. Wei Ying had hoped it would, that in only a few days’ time, he would be able to just whip out his phone and text Lan Zhan, with how resilient he usually is.
Apparently, his broken heart isn’t interested in healing the tiniest bit. Every morning, Wei Ying finds himself staring at his phone, in hopes to see a message from Lan Zhan, but then he remembers that Lan Zhan doesn’t love him, that he probably feels disgusted by the fact that he basically had to kiss Wei Ying just to spare them both the embarrassment. This, in turn, makes Wei Ying lose every ounce of courage he might have gathered to send Lan Zhan a message himself.
He doesn’t want to lose Lan Zhan. He might be hopelessly in love with Lan Zhan, and Lan Zhan might not return his feelings, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be friends, right? They’ve been friends for what feels like an eternity to Wei Ying. He cannot imagine a life without Lan Zhan in it, even if it would be as a friend only. The very thought of losing him completely makes Wei Ying feel sick.
Still, he can’t bring himself to contact Lan Zhan. What would he even say? “Hey, Lan Zhan! Sorry you had to smash your lips against mine because of a stupid camera at a stupid baseball game. Wanna have dinner?”
It seems almost insulting, and because he cannot think of anything that wouldn’t have him confess on the spot and make this situation even worse for both him and Lan Zhan, Wei Ying stays quiet.
Almost a week after the baseball game, a week filled with radio silence and tears, A-Yuan starts coughing again.
It’s a relatively mild cough compared to the major case of a nasty cold he had come down with only a few weeks ago, but it’s persistent enough that it worries the Wens and Wei Ying equally.
“I’ve tried to get someone else to cover my shift,” Wen Qing tells him on the phone, “but no chance. Wen Ning has a tutoring session this afternoon, and Popo’s back is acting up. Could you take him to the pediatrician? I know it’s your free afternoon, but I’d rather have him checked over once more, just to be safe.”
Wei Ying swallows. Lan Zhan has always been their pediatrician of choice because A-Yuan knows him and trusts him. Just for a second, Wei Ying considers coming up with an excuse or asking Wen Qing if she knows any other pediatricians who might take walk-ins, but then he realises that this would be unfair to A-Yuan. The child’s health is the main objective here; the boy knows nothing about Wei Ying’s bleeding heart, and he likes Lan Zhan.
And Lan Zhan takes walk-ins, so Wei Ying will have to suck it up, like the adult that he’s supposed to be.
“Don’t worry about it, Qingqing,” Wei Ying says, “I’m on it.”
He wraps A-Yuan up in a big warm jacket and a scarf and ties a scarf around the boy’s favourite rabbit plush too and takes him to Lan Zhan’s practice. They sit together in the waiting room, Wei Ying with his heart in his throat, and A-Yuan clutching his rabbit to his chest, emitting tiny pitiful coughs now and then.
“It’s okay,” Wei Ying soothes, carding a hand through A-Yuan’s soft hair. His forehead doesn’t seem to be too warm. “Lan Zhan will see us any minute. He will make you better, I promise.”
A-Yuan nods. “Can we have potato soup tomorrow?” he pleads with big eyes.
Wei Ying laughs, relieved. If A-Yuan’s asking for food that means he can’t be too unwell.
“We can,” he confirms and presses a kiss to the crown of the boy’s head.
Soon enough, the door to Lan Zhan’s treatment room opens, and he bids them in. Wei Ying notices that Lan Zhan’s eyes widen just a fraction upon seeing him, but he’s professional enough not to let his discomfort at seeing Wei Ying shine through. As always, Lan Zhan works efficiently but with a great deal of gentleness and empathy for his little patients, and Wei Ying’s heart swells at seeing him handling A-Yuan with so much care. Even when they meet in private, Lan Zhan is always especially sweet and tender to A-Yuan, letting the boy clamber all over him, listening to his chatter with great enthusiasm, and letting him sleep in his arms.
More than once, Wei Ying has thought that Lan Zhan would be an amazing father.
More than once he has dreamed of, one day, raising a child alongside Lan Zhan.
What a silly thing to hope for , Wei Ying chides himself, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill from his eyes again. Pull yourself together, this isn’t about you .
Lan Zhan, who has finished examining A-Yuan, hands the stuffed rabbit back to the boy before sitting down at his desk.
“His cough seems to be unrelated to the last cold he had,” he explains. “Just a case of bad luck and picking up a bug after having recovered from one. I’m prescribing a mild cough relief. Be sure to give him a spoonful before bedtime, and he should be alright in a few days, but do not hesitate to call me should it become worse.”
“Thank you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says and puts the prescription in his bag.
“The pharmacy three streets from here is on duty tonight, shouldn’t you be able to make it before closing time,” Lan Zhan informs him.
Wei Ying shakes his head. “Nah, we’ll be alright. I’ll drive over immediately and then I’ll bring this little radish home. What do you say, baobao?”
“Not a radish,” A-Yuan says before being shaken by a series of coughs.
Lan Zhan rounds the table, opens a drawer, and returns with what looks like a piece of candy. He unwraps it, crouches down to A-Yuan’s height, and hands it to him.
“Here,” he says. “I know you’re not supposed to eat candy before dinner, but it will make your cough better until Xian-gege can get your medicine.”
A-Yuan eyes the proffered lump and looks at Wei Ying. When he sees him nod, the boy takes it and stuffs it into his mouth. Then, out of the blue, he leaps forward and hugs Lan Zhan.
“Thank you, Zhan-gege,” he says, and Lan Zhan squeezes him back.
“You’re welcome,” he says. “Here’s another candy for your bunny, I’ll give it to Xian-gege for safekeeping.”
To Wei Ying, he says: “Give it to him if the cough acts up too much during the day. It should be fine, but just in case. It’s a simple eucalyptus candy, but sucking on a piece of candy relaxes the bronchial muscles and alleviates the coughing reflex. I just don’t want him to have too many of them, since they contain quite a bit of sugar for his age.”
Wei Ying nods, thanks Lan Zhan again, helps A-Yuan back into his jacket and scarf, and turns to leave.
“Wei Ying.”
He turns back around to Lan Zhan, who just – stands there in his white coat and the stethoscope around his neck and the tiny teddy bear stitching peeking out from his chest pocket and his hair pulled back into a braid and –
Oh, how Wei Ying wants to kiss him again.
“Yeah?” he says instead.
Lan Zhan clears his throat. For a moment he looks lost in his own practice.
“I – I was wondering whether you’d be free this Friday evening,” he says. “I still owe you dinner.”
Wei Ying grimaces. “Lan Zhan, you owe me nothing.”
Lan Zhan drops his gaze. “I understand. I apologise.”
What are you doing, you idiot?! , Wei Ying mentally chastises himself, scrambling for words.
“No no no Lan Zhan, that’s not what I – I just don’t want you to feel obligated to make me dinner just because you said you would. That’s all.”
“I want to,” Lan Zhan says. “Please.”
Wei Ying looks directly at Lan Zhan, then, and sees the hesitation in his eyes. The plea, the hope. He doesn’t know what the future holds for both of them, but Wei Ying realises that Lan Zhan, too, does want things to get better between them.
“Alright,” Wei Ying says. “Let’s have dinner. At six at your place?”
Lan Zhan’s shoulders lose some of their tension, and the corners of his mouth relax. He looks younger like that, Wei Ying thinks. More open and vulnerable. Beautiful.
“Yes, Wei Ying. Please get home safe.”
***
It’s Friday afternoon, and Wei Ying is panicking.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” he says.
Wen Qing smacks him up the head with a rolled-up newspaper.
“Ow! Wen Qing, you’re so mean!”
“And you’re a moron,” she replies. “You and I are going to pick an outfit, and you’re going to get your butt over to Lan Zhan’s on time, or so Heaven help me!”
Wei Ying runs a hand across his face as he follows her to his bedroom. “But what if he just-“
“Wants to make dinner for you?”, she finishes for him. “Listen. I don’t claim to know Lan Zhan as well as you do, but I’m sure that you would know by now if he really didn’t want you in your life anymore.”
Wen Qing opens his dresser, pulls out a cream knit sweater and a pair of black jeans and tosses them at him.
“Wear these,” she says. “The sweater makes your eyes pop, and your legs look good in these. Oh, and don’t forget that stupid ribbon of yours; Lan Zhan loves that thing.”
“He does…?” Wei Ying asks dumbly, staring at Wen Qing’s back as she leaves his room, then back at the clothes. He does consider choosing a different outfit, but in the end, he ends up wearing the clothes Wen Qing picked for him. Once he puts them on, he understands why – not only do they look good on him, but the sweater is soft and the jeans are not too tight, so he feels really comfortable in them.
Wei Ying does take extra care in brushing out his hair before reaching for the blood-red ribbon that he used to wear in his hair when he was younger. He doesn’t remember much of his parents, but he knows that this ribbon used to be his mother’s, and it has always been special to him. He ties his hair into a high half ponytail and secures it with the ribbon. It contrasts starkly with his hair and cream sweater; a plum blossom on a dark snow-covered branch.
He decides to take the subway to Lan Zhan’s apartment because it gives him time to think, but he only gets increasingly more nervous the closer he gets to his destination.
On one hand, he dreads the evening with Lan Zhan, because, well – what if this is their last meal? What if this is Lan Zhan’s way of saying “I wanted one last nice evening with you to remember, but this is goodbye”?
On the other hand, Wei Ying cannot imagine Lan Zhan ever being that cruel. Besides, he misses Lan Zhan. Viscerally. He would be laughing at himself if the way he longs for Lan Zhan wasn’t threatening to make him cry at any given minute.
He punches in the code for the main gate. He knows it by heart, better than he knows his own phone number. He enters the building elevator, and his fingers find the button to Lan Zhan’s floor without even a hint of hesitation.
It strikes Wei Ying, then, how irrevocably intertwined his and Lan Zhan’s lives have become. What a giant gap Lan Zhan was to leave behind if he was ever to lose him, and that Wei Ying wouldn’t even know how to carry on without him.
He would. For his siblings. For the Wens. For A-Yuan, but it would never be the same. He would never be the same without Lan Zhan. The thought terrifies him.
Is this what love does to you? he thinks on the ride up to Lan Zhan’s apartment. Wouldn’t life be better without it, then? Is it worth all the heartbreak?
But then he rings Lan Zhan’s doorbell, and Lan Zhan opens and looks at him with big eyes and parted lips and rosy cheeks and lets him in, and he opens his cupboard where he houses his guest slippers, and there’s a white pair for his uncle and a dark blue pair for Lan Huan and a tiny pair of slippers with bunny ears attached to them for when A-Yuan comes over and a pair with a red rabbit stitched onto them for Wei Ying, to match Lan Zhan’s own slippers with their blue rabbit, and –
Yes , Wei Ying’s heart decides, oh yes, it is all so worth it.
Lan Zhan takes Wei Ying’s coat and hangs it up for him.
“I haven’t ordered food yet,” he says. “I wanted to wait until you are here so it’ll still be warm when it arrives.”
“Oh, so you’re not going to cook for me?” Wei Ying teases.
“I thought I’d order the spicy peanut noodles you like so much,” Lan Zhan admits, “but if you’d rather have me cook, I can –“
“No no no no, spicy peanut noodles are perfect!” Wei Ying interjects, waving him off with a hand gesture. “Actually, Lan Zhan – I’m glad you haven’t ordered food yet, because…I think we need to talk, first. About…about the kiss.”
Wei Ying doesn’t know where he got the courage to talk about all of the unspoken things between them, but he sees how Lan Zhan’s face falls when he mentions that they need to talk, and his heart breaks.
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan begins, before Wei Ying can say anything, “I have to apologise.”
“What for, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks. If he’s going to say ‘For the kiss’ I am going to cry , he does not say.
“For kissing you,” he hears Lan Zhan say, and Wei Ying can’t stop a sob from breaking free from his throat.
“Lan Zhan –“
“For kissing you without ever asking if you wanted to,” Lan Zhan continues, undeterred. “For doing so in front of I don’t know how many people, filmed by cameras. I thought…if I didn’t do it, you would have been embarrassed because the crowd would have made their disapproval known, and I didn’t want that to happen to you.”
Wei Ying’s eyes are stinging. He can feel a trail of wetness running down his face.
“So…Lan Zhan, are you telling me it was all just…just for the camera?” he asks. He isn’t sure he will like the answer, but he has to know.
Lan Zhan looks at him, a deep sadness in his eyes, and lifts a hand to wipe away Wei Ying’s tears. His fingers touch Wei Ying’s face, gentle as butterfly wings, and Wei Ying presses Lan Zhan’s hand against his cheek with his own hand, sobbing into Lan Zhan’s palm.
“Please tell me it wasn’t just for the camera,” Wei Ying whispers. “Please don’t do this to me, Lan Zhan.”
“Never,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying looks up at him through his wet lashes. “Never just for the camera.”
And oh , there are tears in Lan Zhan’s eyes too, Wei Ying notices. Tentatively, he takes a step forward and reaches up to cradle Lan Zhan’s neck and pulls him down until their foreheads touch.
“Then why did you ask me to leave?” Wei Ying wants to know.
Lan Zhan swallows. Wei Ying can hear the dry click of his throat. “You seemed so nervous after the kiss, and you talked so much, just like – like you tend to do when you’re uncomfortable, and so I thought – “
Wei Ying pulls back, incredulous, just so he can look properly at Lan Zhan. Then he tilts his head back and laughs before pulling Lan Zhan into a tight hug.
“Wei Ying…?” Lan Zhan asks, clearly unsure of what to do. Still, he wraps his arms around Wei Ying’s waist and holds him close.
“Ahaha, I’m not laughing at you, Lan Zhan, I promise,” Wei Ying says while catching his breath. “It’s just that we’re both idiots. You were right, I really was nervous, but just because I was so excited and happy.”
Lan Zhan blinks at him. “…Happy? Does that mean you…didn’t mind the kiss?”
Wei Ying is sure that his heart has never been beating as wildly as it does now. He could still pull back, still come up with a silly excuse that would somehow make this platonic instead of romantic…but something in him begs to be let free.
And so he opens the door to his heart’s cage.
“Lan Zhan,” he says, “I’ve dreamed about kissing you for years, but I was always too afraid to take the first step. Because – what if I pressured you into something that you don’t want? What if I ruin the beautiful friendship that we have by pushing feelings onto you that you don’t desire? So I never made a move, but – Lan Zhan, when you kissed me, at the game, I hoped – I hoped so much…”
Lan Zhan closes his eyes as if struck by a sudden headache. “And then I called off the dinner,” he realises. “Oh Wei Ying, what have I done to you?”
“I think you broke my heart a little,” Wei Ying says, as Lan Zhan tilts his face forward and nuzzles their noses together and oh that almost makes Wei Ying’s heart stop altogether.
“You…you didn’t mind the kiss, then, Lan Zhan?” he gently asks.
Lan Zhan shakes his head. “I really wanted to,” he confesses. “I…too, have been wanting to kiss you, for a long time, but never dared to go through with it. So, when the Kiss Cam landed on us…it felt like my only chance to experience what it would be like if you were mine to kiss. I only realised afterward how inappropriate that was. For that, I am sorry, Wei Ying.”
It’s Wie Ying’s turn to nuzzle Lan Zhan’s nose. His heart pushes the doors to its cage wide open and flies to Lan Zhan, where it belongs, leaving behind nothing but warmth in Wei Ying’s chest.
"You have nothing to apologise for,” Wei Ying says. There’s a hint of mischief in his voice, “But if you really want to make up for it…I think I know how you could do that.”
“How?” Lan Zhan says, cradling Wei Ying’s face in both of his hands. “I’ll do anything.”
Wei Ying beams up at him.
“My lovely Lan Zhan…kiss me again.”
And so Lan Zhan kisses him.
If Wei Ying thought their first kiss at the stadium was amazing, then this one exceeds any of his expectations. Because this time, they both know that the other one wants it, that they’re allowed to do this.
Lan Zhan’s lips are just as warm and sweet from the tea he must have drunk before Wei Ying arrived, but this time he can feel Lan Zhan smile into the kiss, drawing him impossibly closer, as if he never wants to let go again. Wei Ying leans into his embrace, leans into him, drinks in his warmth, his scent.
This is where his heart belongs. This is where his slippers are.
Home.
***
They end up not ordering any spicy peanut noodles.
They’re far too busy placing kisses on each part of the other they can reach, trailing fingers across soft skin to map out constellations only they can see, and whispering each other’s name as if it was the most devoted of prayers.
It’s way past midnight when they lie in Lan Zhan’s bed, both of them warmed from each other’s embrace, the room illuminated by the streetlights below them and the moon above them.
“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying says, trailing a finger along the bridge of Lan Zhan’s nose.
“Hm?” Lan Zhan replies, taking Wei Ying’s hand in his own and placing a kiss onto his palm.
“Promise me something?”
“Whatever you wish, my love”, Lan Zhan agrees.
“Then…” Wei Ying shuffles around in Lan Zhan’s arms. “In that case, Lan Zhan – you can take me anywhere, my darling, but promise me that we’ll never go to a baseball game again.”
Lan Zhan cradles Wei Ying closer to his heart and laughs, louder and brighter than Wei Ying has ever heard him laugh in all those years they’ve known each other.
It will always be worth it , Wei Ying thinks. We will always make it worth it,
It’s more than just a thought. It’s a promise – to himself, and to Lan Zhan, and he seals it with another kiss.