even the heated arguments in their law classes end. It’s better this way Lan Wangji thinks through the veil of numbness that has descended across his life. Better than playing along, better than pretending he doesn’t know, better than pretending any of its real,

because in the end, it isn’t. It never has been. A week after Lan Wangji stops talking to Wei Ying, Wei Ying stops coming to class. Lan Wangji notices his absence immediately, eyes moving inexorably to the place where Wei Ying usually sits. It shouldn’t matter he tells himself,

and it doesn’t need to mean anything. If Wei Ying is cutting class it’s none of his affair and maybe he’s not, for all Lan Wangji knows he could have a cold or a family situation or simply be excused because he has some other academic commitment that day.

It’s not like Lan Wangji would know. It’s not like they’re friends. With that thought Lan Wangji drags his eyes resolutely away from Wei Ying’s empty seat and back to his own notes. He doesn’t hear a single word the professor says all class.

Two weeks after Lan Wangji stops talking to Wei Ying, Lan Wangji comes home later than usual after a particularly bad day. Well no, not particularly bad, not by his new numb and aching standard of bad, but this time he really does have an essay that he’s struggling with

and the deadline is looming. It’s not like Lan Wangji to struggle with his essays and it’s even less like Lan Wangji to have the paper still unfinished by the time the deadline could reasonably be said to loom, and yet here he is. The problem is simple; he can’t focus.

He’s been trying to write the essay for two weeks now but he just can’t focus, can’t concentrate, can’t force his mind to care about anything as abstract as old court cases. The paper is supposed to be about proving that there is actually judicial precedent that would

close perceived loopholes in environmental law when applied to big corporations, a subject he is genuinely passionate about, but writing the paper means scouring through dozens of old cases and he can’t do that if he can’t focus well enough to remember a single thing he reads.

That evening, furious with himself, Lan Wangji forces himself to stay in the library long past the hour when he would usually have given up, for going both dinner in the comforts of his dorm room in favor of dragging himself through piles of old litigation transcripts

and judicial opinions. In the end, however, he still hasn’t gotten very far, his mind moving like polluted sludge and refusing to make connections, so yes it has been a bad day. By the time he makes it back to his dorm it’s full dark and he is tired and hungry and too despondent

to want to do anything about any of it. He knows he needs to get past this, knows he needs to just move on, back into the comfort of his solitude, but for some reason he still aches for the sight of Wei Ying’s head across the study table from him, Wei Ying’s voice,

asking him if he wants to take a break or debating legal precedent with him. He would be furious at himself for still harboring such a longing but at this point he’s just too drained to muster up any strong emotions. ...At least that’s what he thinks before he rounds the corner

that brings him to his dorm room door and finds a familiar figure sitting slumped against it. Lan Wangji comes to an abrupt halt, the breath catching in his throat as a tide of emotion rushes over him as though every strong feeling he had was being held back by a dam

and simply the act of standing in the other man’s presence has caused it to burst drowning him in a wave of hurt and anger so deep that the only word he can manage to get out past it is, “Move.” Wei Ying raises his head, eyes snapping to Lan Wangji. He looks a mess,

his hair tousled, his eyes dark ringed. His clothes look as though they’ve been slept in and there is an open bottle of beer sitting beside him. Lan Wangji doubts that he’s fully sober. “Not till you tell me what I did.” Lan Wangji is tired and he’s had two terrible weeks

and his heart is aching and cracking and he can’t do this tonight, he just can’t. “Move.” “No!” Wei Ying scrambles to his feet so that he’s face-to-face with Lan Wangji, eyes full of something that might be anger and might be hurt. “You haven’t spoken to me in two weeks!

Tell me what I did wrong! Just tell me!” Lan Wangji’s heart aches seeing Wei Ying so obviously hurting, the urge to comfort him nearly overwhelming, but no sooner does the feeling register then it twists, turning to anger in Lan Wangji’s breast.

How dare Wei Ying do this when it’s Wei Ying who has been the one using him! “You know.” The words leave Lan Wangji’s lips, hard edged and oh so bitter. “No I don’t! I don’t know!” Angry tears spark in Wei Ying’s eyes. He’s shaking now and,

as he struggles to breathe around his own hurt and anger, Lan Wangji realizes that Wei Ying’s not the only one. “You used me.” Lan Wangji meant to just push past him, go inside, lock the door, but the words slip from between his lips before he can call them back. “What?”

Wei Ying’s eyes widen in an amazing facsimile of shock. May be it really is shock, shock that Lan Wangji has noticed. Suddenly he’s tired, oh so tired, the weight of not only the last two weeks but also all the years since Xichen first debuted

and he became a steppingstone to his superior brother’s favor crashing down over him until all he wants is to go inside and sleep. When Lan Wangji speaks again his voice sounds dead even to his own ears. “You used me to get to Xichen, just like everyone does.

You got what you wanted so stop pretending and just go.” Wei Ying draws in a gasping breath as though he’s just been struck. “Used You? Got what I wanted?” his voice shakes even as it rises. “Is that really what you think of me?” His voices starting to crack now,

as though caught between anger and tears. “I’ve been throwing myself at you for months and you think…” His voice trails away into something that’s halfway between a laugh and a sob. “You think I’m really the sort of person who’d…”

Abruptly he spins on his heel and rushes away, around the corner and out of sight. //To Be Continued

For a long moment Lan Wangji just stands there, frozen, Wei Ying’s words ringing in his ears. ‘Tell me what I did wrong’ ‘Is that really what you think of me?’ ‘I’ve been throwing myself at you for months’ ‘throwing myself at you for months’ ‘…throwing myself at you…’

Abruptly Lan Wangji turns on his heal and runs after Wei Ying. He catches up to him at the elevators. Wei Ying is leaning against the wall head turned down and away, waiting for the doors to open for him. At the sound of Lan Wangji’s footsteps he glances up

then quickly away again. “What did you mean?” Lan Wangji skids to a halt in front of him, voice coming out in rough pants. “When you said you’ve been throwing yourself at me, what did you mean?” At the question Wei Ying’s head snaps up again, eyes meeting Lan Wangji’s,

bright with anger and glistening with tears. “What do you think I meant?” He wipes impatiently at his eyes with the back of a sleeve. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Now I know how little you think of me, so just forget about it alright?” “Wei Ying, that’s not…”

Lan Wangji’s heart is racing, his head spinning, trying to wrap his head around what Wei Ying is saying, what he’s implying... And how hurt he clearly is. That hadn’t been… Okay he’d been angry and he lashed out and it was wrong but he hadn’t meant

to imply that Wei Ying was a bad person for preferring Xichen over him. Everyone prefers Xichen over him, even aside from being famous, Xichen is the warm one, the friendly one, the one who knows how to make people feel at ease around him.

It’s only natural that Xichen is the one everyone actually wants, an immutable fact of the universe, one Lan Wangji has understood for as long as he can remember. But how to explain that to Wei Ying? “Not what?” Wei Ying is glaring at him, tears still sparkling on his eyelashes.

Lan Wangji takes a shuddering breath, struggling for words, but of course words are Xichen’s gift not his. At last he says, “I do not think badly of you.” “Really?” Wei Ying’s voice is sharp with skepticism. “Really. I... I’m sorry… I should not have…”

Behind Wei Ying the elevator dings, cutting through Lan Wangji’s stumbling words. As the doors slide open Wei Ying’s shoulders slump and he wipes his eyes again. “Whatever. It’s fine Lan Zhan. I get it. Forget about it.” He turns toward the elevator, away from Lan Wangji,

and Lan Wangji’s heart is still pounding, his mind still spinning, unsure whether he’s really understood correctly, unsure whether it’s foolish of him to dare to hope, and he can’t let Wei Ying go like this, he just can’t. His hand snaps out,

catching around the other man’s wrist. “Wei Ying, wait.” Wei Ying whips back around to glare at him. “Why? You’ve made pretty damn clear you don’t want me!” Lan Wangji’s breath stutters. He tries to find words but they catch in his throat, tangling and snarling up

until they're choking him. Wei Ying is staring at him, angry and exhausted and hurting and still so damn beautiful and so incredibly wrong. Lan Wangji has never wanted anyone or anything more in his life, and abruptly he needs Wei Ying to know it, needs him to understand.

He lunges forward, closing the distance between them, and presses his mouth to Wei Ying’s in a kiss. Wei Ying lets out a sharp startled gasp and Lan Wangji can feel it against his own lips, and then Wei Ying’s mouth is moving against his, kissing back, and Lan Wangji is lost,

lost in a world of new sensations, taste and feel and texture, all exquisite, all perfect, all /Wei Ying/. It only lasts for a couple of moments and then suddenly there’s a hand on his chest pushing him back and Lan Wangji real slightly, bereft at the loss of contact.

He opens his eyes to find Wei Ying staring back at him, his own eyes wide and round, the fingers of the hand separating them digging into the front of Lan Wangji’s shirt, clutching so tightly that Lan Wangji isn’t sure if Wei Ying is trying to keep him from getting closer

or trying to keep him from moving away, “Lan Zhan what…” When he speaks Wei Ying’s voice is dry and a little shaky, his words trailing away as though for once he too is struggling to find them. He licks his lips before trying again and Lan Zhan,

with his newly acquired knowledge of how those lips taste, can’t help but track the movement. “Why would you… I mean is this your way of apologizing or?” Lan Wangji shakes his head. “It’s not, I…” A shuddering breath. “I am throwing myself at you.”

“Oh.” Wei Ying’s eyes go even wider and then he’s the one leaning in, fingers curling even more securely into the front of Lan Wangji’s shirt as his mouth finds Lan Wangji’s and then their kissing again, really kissing. Lan Wangji’s heart hammers in his chest,

his hands moving of their own accord, one arm wrapping around Wei Ying’s back, crushing the other man against him, the other hand releasing Wei Ying’s wrist to tangle in his hair. Part of him still can’t believe that this is real, that this is actually happening,

that Wei Ying is in his arms, that Wei Ying is kissing him. He isn’t sure how to fit this into the same reality as the last two miserable weeks or all the months before that when he had been so sure that Wei Ying would lose interest in him the instant he got near Xichen.

He isn’t even sure which version of reality is the real one anymore and he’ll have to figure that out later, he knows that he will, but for right now Wei Ying is in his arms and he’s kissing him and all Lan Wangji can do is kiss him back, hungrily, deeply,

desperately pouring out his feelings against Wei Ying’s lips, needing him to know, to understand just how badly Lan Wangji wants him, has wanted him from the moment they met, from the moment Lan Wangji first saw the beauty of his smile, first heard the music of his laugh…

Lan Wangji deepens the kiss still further, biting at Wei Ying’s lower lip and Wei Ying moans, actually moans, against Lan Wangji’s mouth. The sound crashes over Lan Wangji in a tide of desire and he pulls Wei Ying closer, pressing their bodies flush,

excitement sparking through him as he feels a pressure against his hip and realizes that he isn’t the only one responding to this, that Wei Ying is starting to get hard just from kissing him, that… Behind them the elevator dings and Lan Wangji jerks back,

reality crashing back in all around him, the reality of the very public hallway where there standing, where he and Wei Ying were… Lan Wangji’s ears burn. Two steps away from him Wei Ying’s cheeks are also on fire, his eyes wide, mouth partly open as he pants for breath.

For a moment they just stay like that, staring at each other, and Lan Wangji’s eyes can’t help fixing on Wei Ying’s lips, spit slick and kiss swollen and… “Your room?” Wei Ying’s voice comes out shaky and a bit desperate and just the sound of it

sends another coil of heat to curl low in Lan Wangji’s stomach. “My room.” Lan Wangji confirms unsteadily, then he grabs Wei Ying’s wrist and drags him back down the hall. //To Be Continued (note from this point onward the fic has an🔞 warning)

They crash through the door of Lan Wangji’s dorm room and the moment that they do Lan Wangji pushes Wei Ying up against the wall beside the door, lips finding his once more. At any moment Lan Wangji still expects Wei Ying to stiffen, to pull away, to change his mind,

but he doesn’t, he doesn’t. Instead he leans into the kiss, mouth opening under Lan Wangji’s, hands coming up to grip the back of his shirt and Lan Wangji still can’t fully believe that this is real, that this is happening, that he gets to have this, have Wei Ying,

that Wei Ying wants this, wants him. Yet here Wei Ying is, in his room, in his arms, mouth on Lan Wangji’s mouth, body pressing against Lan Wangji’s body and it feels like everything Lan Wangji has ever wanted and everything he’ll ever need and so, for however long this lasts,

he’s going to savor every moment. Lan Wangji bites down on Wei Ying’s lower lip. Wei Ying moans, actually moans, and the sound goes all through Lan Wangji like liquid fire. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the tightness of his pants, of Wei Ying’s body

pinned between him and the wall, of the way he’s pressing into Wei Ying’s thigh. There’s no way that Wei Ying can’t feel him, can’t feel how hard just these kisses have made him, but Wei Ying isn’t pushing him away, isn’t telling him to stop,

isn’t doing anything but leaning in more. It makes Lan Wangji’s heart pound and his blood burn and he kisses Wei Ying savagely for a moment before pulling back to gasp for breath. Wei Ying’s eyes flutter open, and his gaze, when it fixes on Lan Wangji,

is hazy in a way that sends a shudder down Lan Wangji’s spine. Wei Ying is gasping too, his fingers still digging into the back of Lan Wangji’s shirt, clinging so tightly that Lan Wangji thinks he may be leaving marks even through the fabric.

Lan Wangji finds that he likes that idea /very/ much. “Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan…” Wei Ying shifts a little in his arms staring at him with wide hazy eyes, and the sound of Wei Ying saying his name like /that/… it does /something/ to Lan Wangji.

He practically feels the last of his self control shatter and dissolve. He surges forward again, mouth finding the side of Wei Ying’s neck and Wei Ying moans again, neck arching and fingers flexing in the back of Lan Wangji’s shirt and Lan Wangji can feel it now,

the pressure against his own hip. Wei Ying is hard too. That knowledge spurs Lan Wangji on and he bites down against Wei Ying’s neck again and again, possessive claiming bites, while Wei Ying squirms and ruts against his thigh. “Yes Lan Zhan… yes! Fuck! Ow, that hurts!

So rough! Yes... Down’t stop, please… I didn’t know it could feel so… ah~ fuck… Lan Zhan… Lan er-gege…” Lan Wangji groans at the sound of his voice, his hands which were holding Wei Ying in place by the hips sliding up beneath Wei Ying’s shirt,

feeling the heat of his skin even as Wei Ying gasps and leans into the touch, arching against him. Suddenly Lan Wangji can’t bare the amount of fabric between them. He pulls at Wei Ying’s jacket and tee shirt, ripping them off and tossing them across the room.

Wei Ying must agree with him because Lan Wangji feels hands on his own buttons, fumbling and pulling until they’re both bare from the waist up. Lan Wangji kicks off his shoes and socks and Wei Ying follows suit before his hands move to the waist band of Lan Wangji’s pants,

pulling at the button before pausing. He looks up at Lan Wangji from beneath dark lashes, lips kiss swollen and neck covered in the marks of Lan Wangji’s teeth and asks, “may I?” Heat and desire of an intensity he’s never known crashes over Lan Wangji. “Bed.”