Lan Zhan is good. A fundamental fact. He’s a good brother, friend, person –the best person, really. Like, bunnies are cute, grass is green, Lan Zhan is good.
Which is why he is here, in this fancy booth in a luxurious club that his brother and friends have reserved for tonight ‘till morning for his birthday. It was most likely Huaisang’s idea, which he somehow convinced Lan Huan for it to be a good idea, and the betrayal of Mianmian being the supposed voice of reason if his brother wasn’t, encouraged this said idea.
His parents would probably be proud, and his uncle would probably go into cardiac arrest. Lan Zhan sighs. Lan Huan grins.
“C’mon, didi,” Lan Huan says, a sing-song lilt to his voice that Lan Zhan merely narrows his eyes at, fondly, of course, “You deserve a little fun once in a while.”
“That’s right, that’s right.” Huaisang says, mischief clear as day. “Our poor little Lan Zhan needs a break from his big boy job and let loose. Aren’t we such great friends?”
“I do not need a break from my ‘big boy job’ and ‘let loose’, thank you very much.” Lan Zhan deadpans, because rolling his eyes is un-Lan like and he is un-un-Lan, thank you very much.
Mianmian rolls her eyes, “I saw your schedule.”
Lan Zhan winces.
“Pfft.” That was Huaisang.
Great friends, right.
“Okay,” Mianmian announces, “Wen Qing just messaged me, she said she might be later than usual and to order drinks and food already, a co-worker being a bitch or something like that.” She reads, fingers already flying over her phone and typing an affirmative.
Lan Zhan hums, a wordless okay and faces Lan Huan to ask, “Are you staying?”
“Is my didi gonna miss me?” Lan Huan teases, laughing at the blank look Lan Zhan sends his way, but before Lan Zhan can answer, someone is walking before they stop at their table.
The table they're on is atop a raised platform, secluded in the way that they're looking slightly over the main dance floor, and a good distance away from the bar slash counter.
A tall, meek guy with soft familiar features donned in greys and reds that shouldn’t work together but does, slinks up to the seat across the Lan brothers and besides Huaisang, who’s now between him and Mianmian.
“Hey guys.” Wen Ning greets, soft but loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Happy birthday, Lan Zhan. Jiejie’s gonna be late, by the way.”
Lan Zhan’s always liked Wen Ning, if not a little put off at their first meeting. Wen Qing’s personality is gravely different from her brother’s, a pleasant surprise (Lan Zhan's not sure he could handle two Wen Qings, much as he loves her) though he supposes he shouldn’t say anything about siblings being on opposite spectrums.
“Not yet my birthday.” Lan Zhan reminds him, and Wen Ning only laughs. It’s a melodic thing, quite baffling for what scene they’re in, but it’s a familiar sound and it pulls a tug at Lan Zhan’s lips, despite only being reminded how this is a vastly different scene from what he’s used to.
“Alright, only Wen Qing is-”
A phone vibrates the whole table, cutting off Lan Huan, who turns mildly apologetic. “Ah, that’s mine, actually.”
Mianmian passes it to him, being seated at the wall side of the booth and closest to the phones, with a brow raised in question.
Their phones were all put on silent before they put it away, a ritual when they get together, with only family related emergencies and work being the exceptions. One of their shared habits.
“Work?” Lan Zhan asks, already knowing the answer.
Lan Huan smiles placatingly, “Looks like ge won’t be able to stay.”
“Huan-ge,” Huaisang warns, wholly unconvincing, and Lan Huan only laughs.
“Just have fun for me, and make sure A-Zhan drinks.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be the opposite.” Lan Zhan sniffs, watching Lan Huan double check his pockets and answering his phone while he sends a cheeky smile at his brother.
Lan Huan puts a palm over his phone’s speaker, “I’m a cool gege, Zhanzhan.” He grins, “I have to leave, but have fun! Happy birthday in advance, didi!”
It’s an escape in blaring red, block font, if Lan Zhan’s ever seen one. Much as Lan Huan gets along with Lan Zhan’s friends, and this is Lan Huan’s words, I have to let you keep some secrets, A-Zhan, he told, unnecessarily sage, once. Like Lan Zhan could even hide anything from him.
Sometimes, he wonders how a mere three years’ difference results in this much difference. Or is it an older sibling thing? Lan Zhan sighs. He’s sighing way too much for someone celebrating their birthday eve.
“Well then.” He huffs, though not unkindly.
Huaisang sighs dramatically, wilting into Wen Ning’s side, who sways with him on impact and last-minutely grabs onto the table edge with a startled yelp. “Well then!” Huaisang solemnly cheers, which Lan Zhan did not know was a combination possible but, look at that.
“You heard what he said, Lan Zhan. Let’s order our first round!”
It’s quarter until eleven, an hour and fifteen minutes since they’ve arrived at the club and two rounds in, when Wen Qing comes with her usual grumbling and a plus one towing behind her. A very, very attractive plus one, if Lan Zhan has any say in the matter.
Who was this specimen and how does Wen Qing know him and why hasn’t Wen Qing said anything? Betrayal. Which might be the snakebites talking, but ah, semantics.
“Sorry I’m late. Got held up with a last minute hour.” Wen Qing says in lieu of a greeting when she’s within earshot, and the unfairly attractive man is still at her side, grinning a smile so bright in this dimmed establishment that Lan Zhan feels a little out of focus.
“Aw, Qing-jie, you’re not even gonna introduce me?” The plus one pouts, so juxtaposed with how tight leather wraps around his legs, thighs deliciously thick, with bare hints of toned abs slithering through the slit of his red cropped (cropped!!) top and sharp collarbones. Lan Zhan has got to tear his eyes away before he thinks of tearing something else.
Wen Qing spares him a scowl, before resigning. “This is Wei Ying. Friends, Wei Ying, Wei Ying friends. He works here on Friday and Saturday nights and when he found out I’m coming here, he tagged along.”
The man –Wei Ying– grins, nodding along every now and then. “Yup! I’m not barging in your little get together or stealing her away, promise.” His grey eyes gleaming as they drift seemingly innocently and deciding to land on Lan Zhan, the tiniest rise of mischievousness that Lan Zhan otherwise wouldn’t have recognized if not having been friends with a one Nie Huaisang since practically birth. “You, though. Hmmm.”
"Me?" Lan Zhan humors, an elegant brow rising a miniscule amount. Wei Ying laughs, mercury shining in the low light, and Lan Zhan finds his own lips quirking unbidden.
Wei Ying's eyes seem to widen when he realizes this, and then he warns, "Mean, mean man. You can't be doing that, you hear me? Qing-jie, tell your friend to be careful, I really might steal him away."
Wen Qing scrunches her face in a grunt, pushing Wei Ying to a general direction away from her, "You have a shift to get to. And don't drag me into your– whatever the fuck that was."
Wei Ying smooches a wet kiss on Wen Qing's cheek in reply and grins as he jumps away to avoid the sharp elbow to his ribs, coincidentally meaning he's standing next to Lan Zhan. "A-Ning,” (A-Ning?? Lan Zhan: ???!), “Tell your sister not to harm me. She's legally not allowed to, you know." He says, giggling, and Lan Zhan, objectively, believes it's the best sound he's ever heard thus far in his life, and it might even be enough to not pretend he disliked the forced outing when Lan Huan asks him about it later on. (as in, he enjoyed it, because that would be embarrassing, if your brother is the likes of Lan Zhan’s)
Wen Ning shakes his head in a chuckle, "Wei-xiong, you really do have a job to work." He side-eyes Lan Zhan, which doesn't go unnoticed, before speaking again in an airy manner, "Lan Zhan will still be here anyways."
Did Lan Zhan say he liked Wen Ning? Hm, did he? How interesting, Lan Zhan suddenly can’t remember. And on that note, they’re friends too? What is this.
Huaisang and Mianmian are, of course, quick to catch on, and Huaisang butts in before Lan Zhan can say anything, he himself doesn't know what he was about to say, honestly, but anything compared to whatever teasing one Nie Huaisang is about to equip is ultimately better.
Huaisang’s smile only looks dangerous in this setting when he chirps. "That's right! It's also his birthday when it hits twelve, which is why we’re here in the first place, celebration and all. So, Wei-xiong,” Huaisang emphasizes, looking at Lan Zhan all the way, “Why not a free round of shots as a gift?" He asks for, addressing the other man so casually as if they haven't just met, something Lan Zhan would have been jealous of if he were any lesser man. Wei Ying himself doesn’t seem too bothered despite having just met, only replying with sparkling bright eyes. But that doesn't stop the pointed look Lan Zhan fixes on Huaisang. He, who cheerfully ignores said pointed look. Huaisang’s gotten way too used to Lan Zhan's glares to be affected at this point.
"Oooor,” Miammian sings, “You know, something else." She tuts in, a smirk gracing her lips and staring right at Lan Zhan's pinched brows of betrayal. He feels heat running along his ears, and it's all he can do when Wei Ying speaks up in reply.
"So it's Lan Zhan's birthday?" He perks up, seemingly unaware of the innuendo, or choosing to ignore it, and adds, "I'll have a round of drinks on the house for the pretty birthday boy then." He winks at Lan Zhan when he says this, the man having turned away from his friend to look at Wei Ying.
Lan Zhan flushes even more, whether it was his name rolling off Wei Ying's tongue or how he's described as pretty by someone looking like Wei Ying, of all people, he doesn't know, but he manages grip at a firm enough will to reply. "There's no need for free drinks." He says up at Wei Ying, making him look from an angle that shouldn't look flattering but somehow is, and Lan Zhan is left to admire how he looks just utterly enthralling.
They're not technically close, but now that he's at least closer, Lan Zhan can see the glittery shadow paired with dark red on his lids, the blush on his cheeks, the sharp lines of his features and the tail ends of the red ribbon holding up his hair. He looks devilish, and Lan Zhan's mouth waters. Red is clearly this man's color, and he clearly knows how to use it in showing off his assets. Big doe eyes, healthy complexion, slender figure–
Wei Ying tilts his head, a teasing glint to his eyes that are all too knowing, and asks, "Then what would gege like, if not free drinks?"
Oh gods. Did he really–
In the background, Lan Zhan can hear Huaisang's cackling, Wen Ning choking on air, Wen Qing's punched-out curse, and Mianmian's somehow audible shit-eating grin. Lan Zhan blinks rapidly with the heat that he can feel spreading down his neck, jaw unhinging in surprise, and embarrassment when he realizes how much he fucking likes the shameless way he's addressed.
That, of which, may or may not be explored on a later date. With Wei Ying, preferably. Perhaps in the sooner hour than not.
He inhales a shaky breath, steadying himself (He can just see Lan Huan's teasing mirth. Such is the sort that will actually mortify Lan Zhan, and heavens if he's not thankful that his horrible brother had already left) and pointedly ignores his friends' mocking grins.
"Maybe when Wei Ying is free, I'll tell him what I would like." He answers casually. He allows a hint of smugness through his face when Wei Ying replies with darkening cheeks and red-tinted eyelids widening. When and not if, if one would note, like Lan Zhan knows. Wei Ying appears to notice this, if his eyes narrowing and lips pursing in his attempt to hide a smile tells Lan Zhan anything. Lan Zhan feels oddly proud at pulling a smile from this man, much to his non-confusion.
"How presumptuous, gege," Wei Ying huffs, flipping his ponytail back from where it swayed to his shoulder, "I'll have you know I'm very busy during Friday nights."
"I'll give him your number." Wen Qing offhandedly butts in, a small, evil smile playing on her lips. Wei Ying smacks her bicep in indignance and retaliation before sighing very dramatically.
Huaisang might have competition there, really.
"Thank you, Wen Qing." Lan Zhan says solemnly, and Wen Qing grins at him, before shoving Wei Ying away from where he's blocking the seat next to Lan Zhan and slides in beside him.
"Now go." Wen Qing says, taking out her phone and silencing it before sliding it to Huaisang, who lays it with the rest, "Whether it's paid for or not, we'd like to ask for a round of tropical storm, please."
"Soooo," Huaisang starts the minute Wei Ying has left, drawing out the vowel while he places his elbows on the table and plops his chin on both palms, eyes zeroing in much akin to a predator cornering his prey, "Wei Ying, huh? Didn't know that was your type, gege."
He heartily laughs when Lan Zhan doesn't hide the scowl on his face. Christ, his ears are going to blow steam at this point. "Do not call me that. Ever." He says sharply, borderline hisses if one were to strain their ears for it, and choosing to leave the question unanswered.
"Oh but Wei Ying can?" Huaisang innocently asks. "Unfair, Lan-xiong! We've been friends since inside the womb and you let a stranger call you so intimately? Should I be jealous? I'm going to tell this to Huan-ge, you know." He innocently continues, staring straight at Lan Zhan, with innocent eyes.
"Huaisang," Lan Zhan says, hard, before he pleads, "Please don't tell ge."
Wen Ning giggles at that. "Huan-ge would be relentless." He agrees, looking all too cheerful with what impending humiliation Lan Zhan would be subjected to if (when, actually, begrudgingly) Lan Huan hears wind about him going so strawberry from this particular encounter.
Mianmian hums, one arm propped on its elbow while the other lays on the table, hand resting on her bicep as the other cups her cheek, "Now we gotta tell him."
"Ge would figure it out whether it's told to him or not." Lan Zhan sighs, knowing how his brother would be able to wheedle anything out from the tiniest widening of his eyes. It goes both ways, of course, but it's not always fun.
Just then, a figure clad in a white, tucked in shirt underneath a black unbuttoned vest arrives at their table, a tray of shot glasses filled to the brim and two plates; one with fries, the other nachos, and a buzzer, and expertly starts laying it on their table.
"On the house for our birthday boy." Wei Ying gleefully says, handing out two rounds of their ordered shots and the plates of snacks as he winks at Lan Zhan. He'd changed into his uniform, the vest having the club's insignia on the upper right, yet he still looks just as dazzling as before. Perhaps they're tailored because it does show off his curves despite being more covered up. His physique must be mouthwatering, Lan Zhan dazedly thinks, when Wei Ying's hips are hugged to its curve and the v to his crotch–
Okay, no. Stop.
Lan Zhan blinks, and then chastises softly, "Wei Ying, I said I would pay."
"Nuh-uh. I took charge of your tab and this one's not included." Wei Ying cheekily smiles, hooking the tray under his arm when he finishes distributing the food and the buzzer at Wen Qing’s edge. "Buzz this if you’re gonna order more,” He taps the buzzer, then says. “And gege, just take it as a birthday discount."
"Surely two rounds of drinks and two plates of food isn't protocol." Lan Zhan points out. Wen Qing graciously lays back to lessen Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's obstacle, and Lan Zhan incrementally leans forward, a slight tilt to his head and a shadow of a smile on his lips.
"Then, my gift."
Lan Zhan properly smiles then, "And if I want something else from Wei Ying?"
Wen Qing coughs beside him, and the rest offers giggles as they give their unsubtle attention to the two men blatantly flirting. Huaisang looks like he's watching his favorite drama, crunching on nachos with eagle-eyes, while Mianmian and Wen Ning settle on amusedly sipping through half a shot.
Wei Ying sputters, a healthy-looking flush spreading across his cheeks as he looks to the side, avoiding Lan Zhan's eyes before pouting back at him. "Not fair, Lan Zhan. You can't say things like that when I'm working!"
Oh that is too cute. How does one look cute in skin-tight leather pants and inappropriately unbuttoned white shirts and vests?
"When you're off work then." Lan Zhan manages, coming out more calmly than he really feels, taking a fry to shove something in his mouth, lest he says anything too undignified. He's still with his friends, mind you.
"Shameless, Lan Zhan." Wei Ying laughs lightly, despite the clear blush still sporting his complexion.
"You can join us when you have your break." Mianmian offers up, gods bless her, and Wei Ying lets out a surprised ah?
"Yeah. Besides, me and A-Ning are your mutual friends, introducing you would've been inevitable." Wen Qing supplies, downing a shot while Wen Ning nods in agreement.
"Ah," Wei Ying chuckles, a sheepish expression on his face as he looks around before his gaze lands on Lan Zhan, "I don't want to intrude."
"You wouldn't be." Lan Zhan assures him, swirling the shot in his hand, "If there’s something you need to attend to though, you can refuse."
Huaisang rolls his eyes, shooting a knowing look that Lan Zhan ignores to down the drink in his hand.
"Don't listen to him, he's giving you an out but we all know he wants you." Huaisang says, pausing before adding, "Here. He wants you here, of course, is what I mean."
"Either way." Wen Ning shrugs.
"Wen Ning." Lan Zhan gasps, which really is just his eyes widening in an affronted manner.
"Okay! Okay. Oh my god." Wei Ying cuts in, laughing full-bodily and keeping a grip on the edge of the table to keep himself upright. "I'll come by on my break." He sniffs, his eyes smiling as he waves a hand while he speedwalks back to the bar. "Don't bully him so much, alright? It's his birthday in an hour!" And he’s gone.
"Wen Ning, I expected much more from you." Lan Zhan sighs, puffing out a breath at the laughter he receives in response.
"Sorry, Lan Zhan." Wen Ning grins, not at all sorry. Wen Qing bumps an elbow into Lan Zhan's side when he munches on nachos petulantly.
"If he doesn't give you his number by the end of this, I'll give it to you."
See that? Now that’s a good friend.
Three more rounds, a few cocktails, a bottle of wine and two dessert type finger foods later, it's a quarter until twelve and Wei Ying is walking back to their table carrying what looks like a small cake and some utensils, dressed back in his red cropped top.
"Hi!" Wei Ying greets, sitting down next to Wen Qing and placing the cake on a clear spot on the table.
Lan Zhan looks at him disapprovingly and is about to say just that when Wei Ying cuts him to it.
"Ah-ah, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying wags a finger in his direction while the unoccupied hand places tissue-wrapped forks in front of everyone, "You can't not have cake! I don't know your preference for sweets, so it's only the basic vanilla-chocolate marble cake, but a birthday isn't a birthday without a cake, and especially if I know about it! So you’re just going to have to accept it." He finishes as he places the last fork in front of Lan Zhan, and brandishes a knife from who knows where with the same tissue wrapping with a smug grin.
“The only thing missing is candles.” Mianmian says unconcernedly, accepting the fork and unwrapping the tissue around it, but it makes Wei Ying blink twice with dawning realization.
“Oh shit, you’re right. Fuck. Ah Lan Zhan-“ He genuinely sounds shocked. And whiny. How could Lan Zhan reprimand him now that he looks upset? Lan Zhan isn’t cruel like that, no sir.
“It’s alright. The cake is more than enough in itself.” Lan Zhan tells him reassuringly, taking the knife from Wei Ying’s hands and unwrapping it before deftly cutting the cake, more or less distracting him.
“Well,” Wei Ying sighs, long-suffering, then shakes his head like it rids away the ruin that is the absences of candles, “Fine, fine. So, Wen Qing, actually introduce us this time?”
Wen Qing hums around a pink macaron.
“So,” She starts, “Wei Ying, you already know A-Ning and Lan Zhan, that’s Nie Huaisang, and that’s Luo Qingyang.” Wen Qing points with her fork at every name as she says them.
“Just Mianmian.” Mianmian waves interjectedly.
After that, Wen Qing proceeds to explain that Wei Ying and Wen Ning became friends during university while Wen Qing just got out to start med school. Naturally, the three of them became good friends. Then how Wen Qing met Lan Zhan in an unceremonious hour where one spilled on the other in a moment of weakness.
“It was,” Lan Zhan grimaces, remembering the coffee stains he had to wash out on the pale blue shirt he wore that specific morning.
“Not my best moment.” Wen Qing finishes, a sigh escaping her lips. “Nor yours. You were studying for your master’s at the time right?”
“Mn. At the university near yours.”
“Wow.” Wei Ying whistles, “And then?”
“Mutual understanding.” Lan Zhan and Wen Qing answer simultaneously, the pair unflinching while Wei Ying’s throat startles out a laugh.
“Wen Qing offered to pay the bill for the dry-cleaning, but I wash all my shirts.”
“So I offered coffee, a drink, or tea.”
“It was a fun morning, that day.” Huaisang chuckles, taking a bite from one of the slices of cake. Lan Zhan makes a wounded noise, which only earns him a teasing glance. “Imagine pristine Lan Zhan arriving to our breakfast group dates more or less disgruntled. Like, his brows were pinched more than usual and he was even pouting!”
And with that, Huaisang fills in the explanation on how their older brothers (“Lan Zhan has an older brother?” “Wei-xiong! I clearly said our older brothers, how come you only focus on Lan Zhan?” “Ahahah, sorry Nie-xiong. Continue.”) are very close friends, and very dammingly oblivious, so it lead to playdates to look at this cool rock I found to grown-up dates about they are disgusting can they stop and just fuck and get together already.
Wei Ying looks surprised at this, “You? Bitching about love affairs? Of your brother?”
“It was turning painful.” Lan Zhan coolly defends himself, then gracefully shoves a cut piece of cake to stop himself from smiling at the delighted giggle Wei Ying answers him with.
“And Mianmian?” Wei Ying asks amusedly, the woman in question rolling her eyes in feign exasperation, but Wei Ying likes to think he notices the mirror of his own findings of entertainment in those sharp eyes.
“More or less the same with you and Wen Ning.” She answers, checking her watch before glancing back up. “We became friends when we got paired for a project together, and just, I guess continued to underhandedly diss every other batchmate for the rest of our college years.”
“You should believe sooner rather than later how rude Lan Zhan can get, Wei-xiong.” Wen Ning quickly butts in, looking at Wei Ying as calm as the eye of a storm with how Lan Zhan has his eyes narrowed at him quite unsubtly. Wei Ying could only nod determinedly, lips threatening to chortle against his better judgement.
Everyone is so different, but they all fit together, Wei Ying muses, seeing the weirdly working dynamic between each of their varying persons. It’s refreshing, to say the least.
“It’s two until twelve.” Wen Qing suddenly says, halting the ongoing chaos of everyone firing at anyone and Wei Ying’s wandering thoughts.
He perks up at this, “Ah! Hand me the wine, I’ll pour everyone a glass.” Wei Ying takes the handed bottle from Wen Ning with a thank you A-Ning, and deftly pours liquid into their previous cocktail glasses, leaving Lan Zhan’s for last.
“You don’t have a glass?” Lan Zhan asks, noticing how Wei Ying put the bottle down without getting himself anything. He’s about to offer his own when Wei Ying shakes his head at him.
“You can get me drunk another time, gege. I still have a shift to work later.” Wei Ying winks, letting the weight of his implications sit and cheerfully smile at the chorus of teasing quips from the table’s other occupants. Lan Zhan deflects every one of them with a burning neck and well-timed, obnoxiously loud sips that he wouldn’t have ever done in any other circumstance, and it makes Wei Ying want to know where else the pretty man flushes with a flirty grin.
Wen Qing lets herself smile this time, seeing how there’s only a few seconds left until the next day. “Make a wish.” She urges, nudging Lan Zhan’s side with an elbow and puts up her glass to make the others do the same, save for Wei Ying, who instead props his cake-piece clad fork.
Lan Zhan makes an affirming hum, and puts his hands together in ceremony, closing his eyes with a flutter of his lashes while he bows his head.
Wei Ying takes the handful of seconds that Lan Zhan is occupied to admire him. He has been admiring him since he arrived at the table with Wen Qing, if he’s being honest, but it was nothing more than fleeting glances and dreamily sighing inside his head, in cases that he was not reciprocally found as attractive as he found the other man.
Now, though, he takes his fill of the defined cheekbones and the angled jawline freely. Of long lashes and the bump of his Adam’s apple. Of the elegant lines of his neck to his throat and the show of a slender, yet muscled (Wei Ying mentally salivates) chest and broad shoulders with the delicious fit of his white turtle-neck.
What a build, inner Wei Ying’s lashes flutter furiously with a high-rising blush. He’s broader than me, I think.
“Alright. I’m done.” Lan Zhan’s deep voice, has Wei YIng gushed about his voice yet? Because–, snaps Wei Ying back to the present.
Mianmian taps her fingers twice on the table, before she motions to clink glasses –and Wei Ying’s fork–, “Happy birthday to Lan Zhan?”
As soon as the hour turns twelve, right on spot, a chorus of loud and soft greetings filled with unhidden affection of happy birthday Lan Zhan!’s float around their table, along with light-hearted smacks to his head from Wen Qing and Mianmian, a disgustingly wet smooch to his cheek by Huaisang, and an amused huff from Wen Ning, who leaves him to the wrath he’s currently being on the ends of with leisure sips of his wine.
Devastating. Truly Wen Qing’s brother. Lan Zhan can only bite back his smile so much.
“What a crowd.” Wei Ying hums thoughtfully, swallowing down the cake on his fork and setting it down before turning to a slightly less than immaculate Lan Zhan, hidden mirth in the received fondness, “Happy birthday, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan feels high, not nearly because of the buzzing alcohol in his veins, more so on the way Wei Ying is looking at him and saying his name. He’d known it the first time, but Lan Zhan truly believes his name rolls off so sweetly on the other man’s tongue. Like velvet and silk that makes him want to give into his primal instincts, to hear it uttered in other and severely different circumstances, to stash it away in the deep recesses of his mind.
Lan Zhan smiles, “Thank you, Wei Ying.”
» hi!!! this is wei ying, from last night. i hope u didn’t forget about me gege >:(
» i asked qing-hie for ur number btw
» hope that’s okay 🥺 i forgot to give it to u
» no, i did not forget about Wei Ying
From: Wei Ying
» aiYO 🥰
» too early lan zhan!!!!
To: Wei Ying
» it’s almost noon?
From: Wei Ying
» it’s v early for me lan zhan. not everyone gets their beauty sleep
» but i’m sure u’d look fine whether u have it or not
To: Wei Ying
» are you free at this hour?
From: Wei Ying
» is gege asking me out?
To: Wei Ying
» if Wei Ying would like
From: Wei Ying
» LAN ZHAN!!
» that’s unfair???!?
» YOU CANT DO THAT
» ugh fine
» u mean mean man
» if my heart combusts it’s going to be ur fault you know
To: Wei Ying
» i will take responsibility for Wei Ying’s heart
From: Wei Ying
» lan ZHAN!!!!