Chapter Text
He has always been tall, six inches on his sister, maybe an inch and a half on his brother. It makes it easier. Fewer questions, fewer doubts. Now, though, he wishes he weren’t so tall. Wishes there were more questions, because without questions, he has to be the one to bring it up, to share this part of him. Normally it comes easily—“Hi, I’m Wei Ying. I’m trans, and I can kick your ass.” What is there to be afraid of if a stranger wrinkles their nose and decides they want nothing to do with him?
But Lan Zhan isn’t a stranger. He’s really, really, definitely, completely not a stranger, and he’s handsome and good and has been his best friend for two years. He likes him so much. He’s telling his sister as much for what is probably the thousandth time.
“He’s so smart. I didn’t even know someone could actually be a natural at orgo. He’s saving my ass, like, so much. I’d definitely flunk if I didn’t have the best lab partner ever,” he gushes while he braids her hair.
She’s going on a date with some loser a year his junior, a loser who does not deserve his sister at all, and if he makes her even more beautiful—which should be impossible, because Yanli is the prettiest woman in the world, perhaps even the universe—maybe this jackass will realize how out of his league she is. He doesn’t say any of this because he’s already said it four times today and Yanli is looking a little sick of it.
“Oh, my sweet boy, are you ever going to do anything about this crush?”
He loves it when she calls him that. She’s been calling him that since he was sixteen and had cried pitifully into her lap that he wasn’t her sister, had never been her sister, please don’t hate me, jiejie.
“What? No! Lan Zhan is just my best friend. Don’t tease me. I’ll mess up your hair on purpose.”
He wouldn’t. She knows that, so she just teases him harder, because despite being the best sister in the world, she is also the worst.
“I don’t know, A-Ying. It sounds like you might have a crush. It’s cute. My little brother is all grown up,” she says.
Why can’t he ever shut up? So what if he has a crush, a giant, embarrassing, huge, monster crush on his best friend who would never, ever be interested in seeing him ever again if he knew?
“Nooo, I’m not grown up. I’m three. Treat me nice, jiejie. I’m just a little boy. Your hair’s done, by the way. You look so pretty! I mean, you always look pretty but you look extra beautiful today,” he says, finishing pinning up her hair.
“Okay, Yingying, you’re three. Maybe I should put you down for a nap. But then you wouldn’t be able to go over to your Lan Zhan’s place to study, would you?”
“He’s not my Lan Zhan! He’s just Lan Zhan! You’re bullying me. Just go on your stupid date. Will you make sure to text me when you’re on your way home so I won’t worry? I should be back before you.”
She promises to text him and heads out to see stupid, stupid Zixuan. He’s nineteen! An infant!
Wei Ying dithers in front of his own mirror, trying on and discarding articles of clothing seemingly at random. He has a process, it’s just that it’s entirely opaque to anyone not in his head, and sometimes even in his head, too. He wants to look nice but not too nice. Casual. Just two bros having—doing chemistry together. Totally normal.
He turns up at the sixth-floor walkup that Lan Zhan shares with his roommate, Mianmian, far more than fashionably late. So he stopped for takeout, big deal, it’s not like Lan Zhan has anything other than boring vegetarian food at his place anyways. And so maybe he picked up a nice tofu dish from that place Lan Zhan likes so much, too, like a good friend. There’s nothing weird about getting kind-of-out-of-your-budget takeout for your best friend.
He bangs on the door. “Lan Zhan! I’m here! I’m late! I brought food!”
“Oh my god, shut up, I’m trying to study, Jesus Christ, Wei Ying, why are you this way? You know the door’s unlocked! Just come in!”
So Mianmian’s home. Cool, cool. That means they’ll be banished to Lan Zhan’s bedroom because, by her logic, she pays more of the rent and therefore can enforce living room privileges whenever Wei Ying interrupts her studying. She’s always studying, it seems. If he were a tiny bit more perceptive, he might realize why she only ever seems to be studying when he’s over. He’s never seen her crack a book on campus.
He comes into the tiny apartment, which is so damn hot even in mid-September, and Lan Zhan is nowhere to be seen. He waves to Mianmian, whose head is bent over a history text, and crouches to say hi to Lan Zhan’s enormous rabbit, Tofu, one of those albino abominations with perpetually neurotic-looking red eyes. Apparently she is something called a New Zealand, and Lan Zhan had insisted on rescuing her from a short and miserable life as a lab animal his first semester.
“Lan Zhan just went to the bodega. He’ll be back in a minute. You’re banned from the living room until I finish this, so you know the drill,” she says cheerfully. He flips her off. She returns the favor, grinning.
So he’s in Lan Zhan’s bedroom three or more times a week, that’s fine, normal, good, and Lan Zhan has never been to his and Yanli’s place. He has too much to hide. Sharps containers, syringes, binders thrown over the back of the sofa, empty vials that he always forgets to dispose of. If Lan Zhan thinks it’s odd, he’s never mentioned it, because he’s the best. Wei Ying flops on the bed and definitely doesn’t smell his pillowcase.
He’s definitely not smelling his pillowcase when Lan Zhan opens the door, nope, definitely not, just resting his face there.
“Wei Ying.”
He jerks his head up and tries not to look too guilty.
“Lan Zhan! I got us food! I can’t do this horrible boring orgo shit without food, you know.”
The bed dips a little when Lan Zhan sits next to him and hands him a beer. He cracks it open with his keychain and takes a deep swig, delighted.
“Lan Zhan! Thank you! How did you get this?”
Is Lan Zhan a little pink? No. Must be a trick of his eyes.
“The bodega around the corner doesn’t card. The packaging made me think of you. I thought you might like it.”
“You’re too sweet! Really, you gotta warn a guy before you say stuff like that!”
The packaging is artsy, a craft beer from a local brewery in Queens. There’s a woman rendered in sketchy pen strokes surrounded by black and red flowers decorating the label. She’s in a different pose on every bottle. He loves it.
“I love you. It. I love it!” He gently removes his entire foot, no, it’s at least up to the calf, from his mouth. Christ.
Lan Zhan, for his part, because he really is the best, either ignores his slip up or genuinely didn’t notice. He can’t decide which is worse. They eat together on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, while they go over their lab notes, Lan Zhan’s in perfect print and his in messy, nearly illegible script.
He’s deeply absorbed in calculating their margin of error, so he doesn’t notice Lan Zhan speak at first.
“Huh? Sorry, I got a little lost in there.”
“I was asking if you’d like to get dinner.”
Wei Ying looks around at the empty takeout containers.
“We just had dinner. I mean, we can get a second dinner if you want! You don’t have to flaunt how athletic you are, you know, able to eat anything and have it go straight to your biceps.“
When he looks up, Lan Zhan is actually pink. Really pink. Like, almost the shade Wei Ying goes when he’s four drinks in kind of pink.
“Not tonight. Maybe this weekend. Together.”
“Sure thing! It’s a date!”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“It’s a date. I am asking you on a date.”
Wei Ying can feel his face flush, like all of the blood in his body decided to reroute to his face for the sole purpose of humiliating him. Stupid blood. When he speaks, it comes out shrill, more shrill than it’s been since he was fifteen.
“Oh! Yes! Um, definitely, for sure, yes, I’d love that, um, I just remembered that I have to go, jiejie has a date and I—and I—and I have to make sure they’re supervised, right, yeah, supervised, no hanky panky, if she brings him back, so let’s finish this tomorrow, okay, bye!”
And he flees. Yanli finds him two hours later, crying on the sofa and pretending to watch The Bachelor. She didn’t bring Zixuan back. That’s good.
“A-Ying! A-Ying, what’s wrong?” she says, crowding next to him and gathering him up into her arms. “My sweet boy, what’s wrong?”
He sniffles into her shoulder. Very quietly, he mutters, “Lan Zhan asked me on a date.”
“And you’re sad about this? I’m sorry for teasing you. I thought you liked him like that.”
Now he’s crying in earnest.
“I do, I do, I do! I do. I like him so much. I wanna go on dates and be his boyfriend and kiss him all over, every time I see him. I said yes, and then I ran the fuck out. Shit, I left my bike there.”
Yanli’s face is the picture of confusion.
“Then why are you crying? Why did you run away?”
He goes very quiet.
“I’m not out to him. It just never came up, and then we were such good friends that I didn’t want to ruin it, and now I’ve—I’ve tricked him. I’m not, I’m not trying to be stealth, it just. It just never came up,” he says miserably.
She squeezes him tight, like she can squeeze all the bad feelings out of him.
“Oh, A-Ying, you didn’t trick him. You know it doesn’t work like that. Lan Zhan is a good boy. I don’t think he will mind. He likes you enough to ask you out, doesn’t he?”
“But what if he does and he hates me?”
It’s a real concern. He’s been snubbed and rebuffed and shot down plenty of times, and it hurts every single time. Even by people he trusted. Even by his Uncle Jiang, in a way, who will only visit him in the city where none of his richy-rich Westchester friends can see his shameful secret, his nephew—no, to them he’s the niece who went abroad for school and can’t be bothered to visit. He never trusted Mrs. Yu, whose hardline refusal to acknowledge his existence was only a minor deviation from her previous treatment of him, but it still hurt.
“Then I’ll kill him and make A-Cheng help me hide the body.”
“Jiejie!”
“Well, I will. Do you want to go on this date?”
He nods sadly.
“And you already said yes, but in a really confusing way. So you should text him. He’s probably worried about you.”
About that—
“I turned my phone off because I was so embarrassed. I’m scared to check. What if he texted? What if he didn’t?”
Yanli runs her fingers through his long hair. It’s nice.
“Text him. Tell him you want to go. You don’t have to come out to him until you’re ready. Oh, this will be your first date! I get to dress you up for once! I’ll make you so handsome,” she says and pinches his cheek. He has such a good sister.
“I’m gonna. Bedroom. To text him. Thank you, jiejie. I love you.”
“I love you too, Yingying. Go get your man!”
—
When he turns on his phone, he does have one long text from Lan Zhan.
💕🐰Lan Zhan🐰💕: I am sorry. It seems I have made you uncomfortable. Please accept my apologies. I understand that you are not interested. I should not have assumed or hoped that you would be interested in men or in me. If you would like, we can go back to how things were. I do not want to lose your friendship over my error. I will understand, however, if you no longer wish to associate with me.
Oh, no, that’s worse than being snubbed. He can feel the hurt behind the words and he picks up crying again. He can’t text back to something so earnest, so he chooses to forget that he is living in the twenty-first century and actually calls him. He picks up on the first ring, like he was waiting for it.
“Lan Zhan, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he says, and his voice is creaky and wet. He can’t make himself feel embarrassed, just ashamed, and there is a difference. More sad and guilty. “I’m sorry I ran off.”
When Lan Zhan speaks, it’s obvious he’s been crying too. Another flood of shame wells up.
“Wei Ying. I’m the one who should be sorry. I thought you knew that I…I suppose I never mentioned that I am gay. I hope we can still be friends.”
Oh. He kicks his legs up the wall.
“What! I knew you were gay. You told me the one and only time you got drunk freshman year.”
“Oh.”
“I guess you don’t remember much from that night, which is probably for the best, because you definitely puked on some guy’s chihuahua, and I had to stop him from fighting you, even though that little monster was out for my blood. Oh shit. I shouldn’t have told you that. Either way, I was so happy to learn that you were because I already liked you so much. I like you so much. So much.”
“Then why did you run away?”
“Ummm.” He can’t say it. He can’t. He tells the truth, but not all of it. “I was surprised. I’m not used to people actually wanting me, haha. I did say yes, though, I did! I want to go on a date with you. If you still want to.”
There’s a pause. Wei Ying knows him well enough to know he’s rolling his eyes.
“Yes, Wei Ying, I still want to go on a date with you. Friday? We can meet up after class.”
“Yes! Yes, I definitely want that. And I did mean what I said about finishing up our work tomorrow. Your place?”
It’s not like they can use his place.
“Can’t. Mianmian is bringing a girl over, and I have been strongly advised to be out until at least ten.”
Wei Ying’s stupid, stupid mouth gets ahead of his brain, like it always fucking does.
He hears himself say, “Well then you can come over to mine! I’ll text you the address!”
What. Fuck. Shit.
—
Wei Ying skips class the next day to furiously hide every trace of evidence. It’s not that he’s ashamed; he’s just not ready. The stakes are too high. He leaves the sharps box in the bathroom, because Yanli needs it for her insulin syringes, but everything else gets shoved haphazardly into his already messy closet. He finds empty vials of T everywhere. Under the sofa. On window sills. In the spice rack. Why is he such a fucking mess? He thinks it’s fairly unlikely that Lan Zhan would go through his dresser, but what if he does? So he digs through his dresser and laundry and hides every binder except his tightest, most compressive one in two black plastic bags, shoved deep into the abyss that is his closet. He stuffs his toys in old socks and shoves them under his bed. Detransitioned, baby. He laughs a little hysterically.
Once he’s done all of that, he realizes that his room itself is a mess, so he spends a frantic hour cleaning that, then he drinks a beer to calm his nerves, because what self-respecting twenty-year-old doesn’t have a fake ID with an accurate gender marker? Then he drinks another one to calm his nerves more and naps for the rest of the afternoon, worn out.
Lan Zhan arrives a few hours later, right on time, of course, as always. He scrambles to get his binder on before opening the door and immediately realizes he’s made a tactical error. It’s too tight, too hot for this late heat wave. Shit.
“Wei Ying.”
“Lan Zhan! Come in, come in! My sister is still at work, but she’ll probably make us dinner if we ask really nicely. Or if you’re hungry now we can order in,” he says, maybe a little breathless, resolutely ignoring how much his bank account would prefer if he did not do that at all. “I’m pretty sure she can make something vegetarian. Sorry for the mess!”
It’s not really a mess—it’s just a very tiny apartment for two people, and it’s cramped even when it’s at its cleanest.
“It is not a mess. It is lived in. It feels like you and your sister are happy here. I brought your bike,” he says. “It’s locked up outside. I wasn’t sure if you usually brought it up.”
Wow, Wei Ying is going to marry this guy. Okay, one step at a time. Studying. First date. Come out to him at some amorphous point in the future or live sexlessly forever. Then marry him and adopt a million babies.
“Oh, wow, thank you! Wait, how did you get my bike unlocked?”
Lan Zhan doesn’t really laugh, not with his voice, but he does this thing with his eyes and his breath that Wei Ying figured out soon after meeting him in Intro Calc means he’s laughing. At him, usually.
“You probably shouldn’t have left the extra key taped to your lock.”
“Okay, I’m stupid, I get it. Let me be stupid inside while we finish this lab report, so you can help me be less stupid.”
They sit on his bed and do work, slightly farther apart than normal. Normally they are fully in each other’s personal space, wrists and shoulders touching. He’s sweating miserably. If it were just Yanli, or Jiang Cheng, or Wen Qing, he could peel it off, get naked to the waist and bitch about sweaty tits and labored breathing. Even Jiang Cheng doesn’t care about seeing his chest now, doesn’t squawk in horror when he takes off his shirt. Would Lan Zhan be horrified?
“Wei Ying. Are you okay?”
He’d been staring at his percent yield for a full three minutes. He wonders what he missed.
“Yeah?”
“Am I making you uncomfortable? I know we don’t work at your place.”
That’s fine. That’s something he can handle. His stupid mouth doesn’t get the memo, though.
“I’m hot. And you normally sit closer to me. You should sit closer to me.”
He’s a fucking idiot in all possible ways. Stupid, stupid. He can’t look up.
Lan Zhan says, a little confused, “Those statements seem incompatible. If you’re hot, it’s better if we aren’t touching, or you’ll be more hot. You should take off your hoodie. You might feel better.”
But he can’t take off his hoodie because he’s an idiot and doesn’t have anything on under it, just suffocating black nylon. So he goes for whining.
“I’d feel better if you were closer to me. I don’t wanna be awkward. We’re gonna date—uh, go on a date. This weekend. We touched plenty before that.”
Lan Zhan goes a little rigid. Apologies half formed, Wei Ying is about to start placating when—oh. An arm around his waist. That’s nice. He’s still hot, still a little sweaty, but it’s nice. He could just stay here and not do any work. He leans in. Lan Zhan’s chest is nice, firm against his shoulder in all the ways his isn’t. He wants to touch it, first with his fingers, then with his mouth.
He makes a little contented noise and leans in closer. Looks up at Lan Zhan’s nose and eyelashes and mouth. It’s a good mouth. He wants to kiss it.
“You should.
“What?”
“You should kiss me.”
He’s going to die. They’ll write “horny embarrassment” on his death certificate and no one will come to his funeral. He’ll be buried in a potter’s field. Everyone will come to point at the poor horny bastard who died a virgin. He’s just getting to the part where no one, not even his perfect sister, will burn paper money for him when Lan Zhan repeats himself, firmer.
“You should kiss me. If you want.”
“Haha, Lan Zhan, you can’t just say those things!”
An arched eyebrow. A slow blink. “You did.”
So he did. Maybe one day his mouth won’t get him into trouble, but today is not that day.
“Okay. But I’ve never kissed anyone I wasn’t related to before, so you have to be nice to me.”
It turns out that Lan Zhan plans to be very nice to him. He cups his cheek, his jaw, long fingers patient and gentle, and kisses him so sweetly, and it’s a little clumsy, but it’s mostly very nice. He kisses back, maybe too enthusiastically, but he’s wanted and wanted, so he figures he deserves a pass. When they part, Lan Zhan is pink at the tip of his nose. His lips are a little wet. He has to kiss him again.
Wei Ying makes an executive decision. He shoves his lab notebook onto the floor.
“You know what, I think this can wait. I think you should kiss me again.”
This time, Wei Ying leans in and kisses him softly, one hand fisted into the front of Lan Zhan’s shirt. Then he’s kissing him harder, tongue and a little teeth, and it feels so good. He’s totally going to jerk off about this later. Maybe he’s been a little wet since Lan Zhan arrived. Maybe he’s often a little wet when Lan Zhan is around. It’s normal—healthy, even.
He doesn’t even mind when he’s manhandled a bit, actually that’s really good, really nice, they should definitely do that all the time. He ends up in Lan Zhan’s lap in his tiny bedroom, legs divided around firm thighs. He’s panting. Is it from the heat? From his binder making its best effort to smother him? Or is it from the hard press of Lan Zhan’s erection against his ass? Probably that.
“Sorry, sorry,” Lan Zhan whispers into his neck. “We can stop. You just feel so good.”
He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to grind his dick against Lan Zhan’s—oh, it’s big—cock until he comes in his pants, but that would mean he’d know, and that is not an option. So he says, stupidly, “Can I give you a blowjob?”
Lan Zhan’s mouth is a perfect circle. One day, he’s going to get that mouth on his dick, on his cunt, he is, he is. But not now.
“Can I suck your dick, Lan Zhan? I’ve wanted to for so long, and now you’re right here, and I can feel it, and it feels so good. Can I have it in my mouth?”
So he ends up giving his first ever blowjob on his knees next to his little twin-sized bed. He’s never even really seen an erect cock, not in person, and it’s…a lot. When he gets an affirmative nod, gets his hand inside and pulls it out, it’s already red and leaking. Big. He’s seen enough porn to know that this is an impressive specimen, and he’s abruptly grateful for all the practice he’s put in with his toys. He takes his fingers and touches the head. His fingers come back slick and he puts them in his mouth, tasting. Lan Zhan hisses.
“I’ve—I’ve never done this before,” he says, suddenly nervous. “You’ll have to show me what you like.”
“I like you.”
That’s very sweet and all, but it’s not adequate instruction. But it does seem to be all he’s going to get, so he’s going to try his best. He strokes him from base to tip a few times, just getting a feel for him, slicking his hand with precum, taking in Lan Zhan’s soft moans. He keeps his eyes up, because that’s supposed to be good, that’s what everyone says. Lan Zhan is looking at him, something dark in his eyes.
“I wanna taste you,” he says decisively. “I’m gonna.”
He puts his head down and touches the red, wet glans with his tongue. It’s bitter, different than how he tastes. It’s nice. He really doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he closes his lips around the head and moans, shocked at how much he likes it. He can’t take much more than the head, not really, not yet, so he brings his slick hand to meet his lips and jerks him off while he sucks and kisses the tip of his dick.
“Wei Ying, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan is panting, looking down at him hungrily. “You’re so good. You’re so good. Can I—?”
He makes a little motion toward his head. Wei Ying pulls off with a pop, lips red and a little numb. He slides his hand up and thumbs under the head, earning a bitten off—curse? Did Lan Zhan swear? Because of him? He’s going to jerk off to that forever.
“You wanna pull my hair? Please, please pull my hair. I want it.”
So he lets Lan Zhan pull his hair and rub his back while he gives him a messy, inexperienced blowjob. He plans on getting experienced very fast, because he plans on getting Lan Zhan’s cock in his mouth every chance he can. Lan Zhan’s hitched moans are so good, so good. Little spurts of precum keep coming, making his lips slicker with every little bob of his head. He’s finally getting the hang of it, feeling confident, when Lan Zhan’s tugging on his hair gets more insistent, pulling him off.
“Wha—“ His voice is rough. “What? Do you wanna stop?”
Face bright, Lan Zhan says, “I’m close. I didn’t want to—in your mouth, your face—not without permission.”
Oh. Oh.
“You wanna come on my face? In my mouth? Fuck, that’s so hot, yes, you can, you should, I’m so wet.”
Shit. He scrambles.
“I’m so hard.” It’s not a lie. He’s definitely hard in his briefs, and definitely, definitely wet. “Come on, do it on my face.”
Lan Zhan looks dazed when he puts his mouth back on him, insistent in his task. He’s going to make him come, this perfect man, this man he likes so fucking much. He sucks him hard, twisting his wrist, letting Lan Zhan pull his hair urgently. He can feel him, so wet and slick in his mouth, before his mouth is suddenly much more full, pulses of hot cum against his tongue. Wei Ying tries to take it all but he can’t, and he pulls off with a sharp gasp. The rest of it spurts across his face, into his open mouth. There’s so much of it. He can feel some of it trickling down his neck. Overcome, he runs his fingers through it, and, keeping his eyes on Lan Zhan’s face, licks it off his fingers. Oh, that’s good.
Lan Zhan yanks him up and kisses him firmly on the mouth, tongue chasing after the cum on his chin, his lips. He falls into it, breathless and happy.
“Did I do a good job?” he mumbles against his lips. “Did you like it?”
Catching his breath, Lan Zhan says, “Yes,” and hauls him closer. He doesn’t even care that he’s hot anymore, not in that way, at least. He’s leaking all over himself, slippery and wet between his thighs, and that feels a lot more pressing.
A little hysterical, he says, “I put out before the first date, haha.”
“You’re perfect.”
If only he knew.
“Warn a guy!”
Lan Zhan bundles him even closer, holding him tight to his chest, slotted between his legs. It’s so nice here.
“No. I like it when you turn red when I’m nice to you. You turned red on my cock, too. You were so beautiful.”
Wei Ying hides his face in his shoulder, unthinking, face burning. Ah, he’s going to need to change his shirt after that. They just hold each other for a while, kissing indulgently, until Lan Zhan starts palming his ass, and all the warm feelings, all the sweaty heat, leave him, all at once.
“Ah, Lan Zhan, wait.” He has to stop now, before it goes too far, before he sees.
“Wei Ying?” His voice is concerned.
“I’m—I’m not ready. To be touched. Under my clothes, I mean. Over is definitely fine! No one’s ever—you know. We can soon. I really, really want to. But I’d like to just hold you right now.”
Lan Zhan pulls away a little. He’s gone and fucked it up, like he fucks up everything. He’s not going to cry. He’s not going to cry. He covers his face.
Warm fingers curl around his hands. Peel his fingers back gently.
“Wei Ying. Don’t hide. We can wait. I don’t mind. I was waiting for myself to be ready to deal with my feelings for you for almost two years.”
Why is he so fucking perfect?
“Why are you so fucking perfect?” he says, and his eyes are definitely not wet.
“I’m not. I like you. I won’t force you to do anything. We can take that part slow. We can take any part slow.”
“But I can still suck you off? I liked that. I want to do that again.”
“Ngh. Yes. If you want to. I liked seeing your mouth on me. You looked so perfect. I want to, as much as you’ll let me. I want you, as much as you’ll let me have.”
He supposes that two years of hopeless desire mean that this isn’t moving too fast. If anything, it had been moving far too slowly before now.
“Me too. Now let me snuggle with you, then I’m gonna wash my face, and then we actually have to do our homework for real, haha.”
He holds him like he won’t get another chance.
—
When Lan Zhan leaves, just after ten, wearing one of Wei Ying’s t-shirts that stretches appealingly across his broad chest, after Yanli does make them dinner and they do finish their report, he’s a perfect gentleman, kissing Wei Ying goodbye in the hallway outside his front door.
“I’ll see you on Friday?”
“Of course, Wei Ying. I’m looking forward to it.”
Wei Ying smiles as he leaves, then, when he’s out of sight, he rushes back inside and throws himself onto the sofa for a good cry. Yanli, who had been reading on the sofa, looks alarmed.
“A-Ying, why are you crying? Did you two not have a good time?”
He’s blubbering into her hair when he says, “I sucked him off.”
Yanli goes stiff, rigid. When she speaks, her voice is as hard as her grip on his shoulder, frozen solid:
“Did he force you?”
“No! Jiejie, no. He wouldn’t. I wanted to. I didn’t tell him. About me. I’m a terrible person.”
She softens in his arms, tension flooding out.
“Oh. Oh, thank god. Thank god. A-Ying, you don’t have to tell him until you’re ready.”
“Thanks, jiejie. I don’t believe you. But thanks.”
“You’ll believe me eventually. And, A-Ying?” she says lightly. “Make sure you get condoms.”
Awful. The worst sister.
—
He’s still so wet and keyed up after Lan Zhan leaves that he absolutely has to jerk off about what they just did. He waits until Yanli has been in bed for half an hour, then he locks himself in his bedroom, throws himself onto his bed, and shoves his jeans down to his thighs. He’s so wet and sticky that he has to peel his briefs off. He fumbles with the velcro on the side of his binder and gets that and his hoodie off too. This is going to be fast and messy.
He traces one hand across his chest, plucking at his nipples, rolling one between his fingers, and imagines Lan Zhan’s mouth on him. Sucking. Biting. Leaving marks on his chest and tits, making him leak and get hard until he’s begging for his mouth on his dick, his fingers in his cunt. Maybe even his cock, that big cock that he’d had in his mouth only a few hours ago. It had tasted so good. He’s going to learn to take it all the way, down the back of his throat, he’s decided it, and it will be worth the challenge. Maybe he’ll choke a little. Maybe Lan Zhan will want to fuck his throat. He moans.
With shaky fingers, he gets his other hand on his cunt, sliding up through the wetness between his folds, tacky on his thighs, and gets his thumb and index finger around his hard dick. He’s so swollen, thick between his fingers, warm and wet. He likes this, he likes his body, he likes feeling good. He wants Lan Zhan to like this too. He wants to teach Lan Zhan how to jerk him off, how to make him come again and again. Wants to squirt for him. Fuck, fuck.
He comes for a long time, teasing himself through it, pulling back the hood a little to stroke the head directly with a soft finger. Then he does it again. And again. He’s almost catatonic when his dick finally checks out, too sensitive to be fun anymore, on his back and shivering. He’s going to have to change his comforter. Worth it. So worth it.
Now he just needs to figure out how to tell him, because he actually, definitely, really needs to get Lan Zhan on him, or he’s going to fail out of school because all he’s going to be capable is jerking off, like, constantly.
So he’ll tell him. He will. Just not yet.