Chapter Text
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to jerk off a dick that wasn’t my own,” Wei Ying says.
It’s a total non-sequitur to whatever the hell they were just talking about (Lan Zhan can’t remember), and Lan Zhan’s brain immediately turns into pudding.
Wei Ying looks over at him when his silence drags on too long, his face slightly flushed. Lan Zhan can see the instant that he decides to cover his embarrassment with bravado, and he knows right away that it’s all over for him. Whatever Wei Ying decides to say will, without a doubt, break Lan Zhan.
“You should let me try it on you,” Wei Ying shamelessly suggests.
Yes.
Lan Zhan must already be dead. He has yet to determine whether he has been sent to Heaven or Hell.
“Don’t get me wrong!” Wei Ying hurries to amend. “I’m not gay or anything!”
“You’re not gay or anything,” Lan Zhan repeats woodenly. “But you would like to jerk another man off.”
“Aiyah! Lan Zhan! It’s for science.” Draping an arm across the back of the couch, Wei Ying leans into Lan Zhan’s space. Lan Zhan has to keep deliberately still to keep from closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet scent that always follows Wei Ying. Cinnamon body wash, most likely.
“Science.”
Wei Ying twirls a piece of hair around his fingers. “Yes! It’s only natural to be curious.”
“And you want it to be mine.”
When he looks at Lan Zhan this time, there’s something unreadable in Wei Ying’s eyes. He covers it quickly with a grin. “What’s a little handjob between friends?”
Swallowing thickly, Lan Zhan nods once. Because he is a moron.
Wei Ying’s face lights up as if he’s been told he won a hundred thousand dollars in cash. “Wait, really?!”
The bottom of Lan Zhan’s stomach drops out. He should have known that Wei Ying wasn’t serious. If something sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Something must show on his face, because Wei Ying rushes to say, “Hey, no take-backs!”
Relief floods Lan Zhan. “I will not take it back.”
“Okay then!” Wei Ying turns to face Lan Zhan fully, bringing both feet onto the couch. If anyone else put their feet on Lan Zhan’s pristine white sectional, Lan Zhan would probably kick them out of his house. But Wei Ying has always been an exception to every single one of Lan Zhan’s rules. “How should we do this?”
Lan Zhan keeps his hands folded in his lap, preventing himself from immediately ripping the clothes off the lower half of his body. “I suppose I should…get it out?”
Wei Ying’s ponytail bobs as he nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! C’mon, let’s see that dick!”
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Lan Zhan moves slowly and carefully to unbutton his fly, trying not to appear as eager as he feels. The conversation has him already half-hard, and the thought of Wei Ying touching it makes his cock twitch as soon as it’s out in the open. Wei Ying inhales sharply.
Lan Zhan watches his face, trying to discern the emotions flitting through his changing expressions. There’s shock. Then, nervousness. Finally, something that looks dangerously close to eagerness—or perhaps it’s wishful thinking on Lan Zhan’s part.
“Can I touch it?” Wei Ying peeks up at Lan Zhan’s face, looking almost shy.
“I thought that was the whole point.” God, Lan Zhan is going to be fully erect before Wei Ying even touches him if Wei Ying keeps looking at him like that.
Wei Ying’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he smiles. “Just making sure you’re not chickening out. Okay.” He exhales through his nose. “Let’s do this.”
A look of determination overtakes his beautiful face as he reaches out a hand and—
Oh.
Fuck.
Lan Zhan’s entire body tenses as soft, warm fingertips tentatively stroke along his shaft. His eyes go from Wei Ying’s hand to Wei Ying’s face, scrunched up slightly in concentration as he wraps his hand around it. It takes only a few loose, slow pumps for Lan Zhan to reach full hardness.
The tip of Wei Ying’s pink tongue swipes across his lip. His eyes glint as he meets Lan Zhan’s gaze. “Wow. You’re so…” He looks down at Lan Zhan’s cock again and swallows. “Big.”
Lan Zhan tries not to preen at these words, but he knows his burning ears will give him away. It hardly matters, because Wei Ying’s eyes are currently glued to the dick in his hand. He keeps his grip slack, and the torturously unrushed strokes are going to drive Lan Zhan out of his goddamn mind. When his thumb swipes across the head, smearing the precome gathering on the slit, Lan Zhan can’t help but moan.
Wei Ying looks up with wide eyes. “Will you show me?”
On the best of days, Lan Zhan is a man of few words. Right now, it takes all his strength to force his mouth to operate. He manages after a few seconds to ask, “Show you what?”
Wei Ying is chewing on his lip again, and Lan Zhan's fingernails dig into his thighs as he stops himself from shoving Wei Ying into the couch cushions and kissing him until neither of them can breathe. “I want to know what you like,” Wei Ying says quietly. “I want it to be good for you.”
There are few things Wei Ying could do to his dick that Lan Zhan wouldn’t enjoy, but Wei Ying asked what he likes. So, he covers Wei Ying’s hand with his own and squeezes with just the right amount of pressure. He sets a languid, lazy pace that’s still much faster than what Wei Ying was doing before. His eyes are trained on Wei Ying, who watches their hands working together with rapt fascination.
Lan Zhan lets go and is pleased to find that, as in other areas of life, Wei Ying is a quick study. His movements steadily grow in confidence, his touch making Lan Zhan feel dizzy. He needs to get a hold of himself—it’s just a handjob, and it’s already at the top of Lan Zhan’s list of memorable sexual encounters.
Each sigh and soft groan that leaves him seems to spur Wei Ying on, his hand moving faster along Lan Zhan’s shaft. He looks up at Lan Zhan and gives him a soft smile. “It feels good?”
“Yes,” Lan Zhan hisses. He’s already embarrassingly close to coming. As much as he’d like to savor the current moment as is, he can’t help indulging in a fantasy of Wei Ying leaning down and taking Lan Zhan’s cock into his mouth. Wei Ying’s mouth is good for so many things; what would it feel like wrapped around Lan Zhan, swallowing him whole?
“Your cock is so nice,” Wei Ying murmurs, gazing down at it with reverent eyes. The unexpected praise makes Lan Zhan shiver. “This was such a good idea. I wanna see you come so bad, Lan Zhan. Will you let me see it?”
With that, Lan Zhan shatters, shooting his load all over Wei Ying’s hand. Wei Ying’s eyes dart between Lan Zhan’s face and his cock, as if he isn’t sure which is more fascinating to look at. Lan Zhan’s grip on his self-control is slipping, too many feelings he can usually bottle up escaping through the cracks. They’re written all over his face for Wei Ying to see. Why was he stupid enough to think that he could make it through this with a shred of dignity left to his name?
“That was…wow.” Wei Ying wipes his hand on his jeans like the heathen he is, and Lan Zhan nearly comes again knowing that Wei Ying will be wearing a part of Lan Zhan on him for the rest of the day.
Wei Ying shifts to straighten out his legs. The crotch of his pants is tented, and Lan Zhan feels he is about three seconds away from a brain aneurysm because Wei Ying is hard from touching Lan Zhan’s dick.
He swallows. “Would you like me to help with that?”
Wei Ying glances over and sees what Lan Zhan is looking at. “Ah…no, no. That’s okay. I wouldn’t want to make you—”
“Wei Ying.”
“Yeah?”
Lan Zhan’s fingers itch to touch, to feel, to know. “I want to.”
There’s a long pause, and then: “O…kay. Sure.”
Wei Ying’s hands tremble slightly as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans. He reaches inside his underwear to free himself, and Lan Zhan’s mouth waters as the prettiest cock he has ever seen is revealed (he might be a tiny bit biased in this regard).
“May I touch you?” Lan Zhan’s voice cracks a bit in the middle.
“Yes,” Wei Ying breathes out. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Lan Zhan knows that he cannot, in fact, do “whatever” he wants to Wei Ying. If he could, he would bend him over the back of the couch and fuck him so thoroughly that he never wants to go back to women. The thought is like a bucket of ice water being tossed onto Lan Zhan. He’d almost forgotten that Wei Ying isn’t even attracted to men.
No matter how hard his dick has become from bringing another man to orgasm…Wei Ying is straight.
“What’s the matter?” Wei Ying asks when Lan Zhan hesitates.
“Nothing,” Lan Zhan quickly replies. His fingers curl around Wei Ying’s length. He wants to lick it, to tease him with his tongue and lips until he begs.
Wei Ying would look so pretty if he begged Lan Zhan to fuck him.
But Lan Zhan doesn’t tease, no matter how much he wants to revel in the moment. He craves too much, and he’s being greedy enough as it is, chasing the sound of Wei Ying’s moans as he jerks him with long, steady strokes. The veins that run along Wei Ying’s shaft pulse as he gets close. His eyes are closed, probably picturing someone who is not Lan Zhan doing this.
“I’m gonna come,” Wei Ying says suddenly.
Lan Zhan quickens his pace and stares at the tendon that runs along the side of Wei Ying’s neck. He wants to bite it, to leave a bruise that marks Wei Ying as his. He wants to stick out his tongue and capture the drop of sweat running down from Wei Ying’s jaw.
Wei Ying spills all over Lan Zhan’s hand, his voice going high and then guttural. He opens his eyes and meets Lan Zhan’s gaze, and Lan Zhan will never, ever, not in a million years forget the current look on Wei Ying’s face. Lips parted, eyes wide—he looks as desperate as Lan Zhan feels, and it lets Lan Zhan pretend, just for a moment, that Wei Ying wants him. Really wants him.
With great reluctance, he lets Wei Ying go as soon as he’s spent. Then, Lan Zhan gets up to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. Wei Ying joins him, waiting his turn to run his hands under the tap, and Lan Zhan’s insides coil in dread as the silence between them stretches on. He leans his hip against the counter as he dries his hands and tries to hear what thoughts are playing in Wei Ying’s head.
Wei Ying turns off the faucet and accepts the dish towel that Lan Zhan offers him. He looks up to meet Lan Zhan’s gaze, and his smile comes a beat too late to be genuine. “Are we…okay?”
“Okay?” Lan Zhan echoes.
“Yeah. Like, are things weird now? I mean, it was just a handjob. An excellent handjob, but… It doesn’t really change things…right?”
“Right.” Lan Zhan is torn between relief that Wei Ying is willing to move past this…
And disappointment that it changes nothing.
“Okay, good.” Wei Ying lets out a shaky laugh. “I’d hate to lose you over something so stupid.”
“You will never lose me.”
Wei Ying’s smile falters, but he recovers quickly. “Then, we’re in agreement. No need for weird vibes or shame between bros.”
Bros.
Lan Zhan keeps his face carefully neutral, even as his heart clenches. The rest of the day feels like a performance, but Wei Ying doesn’t seem to notice the note of melancholy Lan Zhan feels. When he leaves, Lan Zhan goes to bed an hour early and spends a long time staring at the ceiling.