Thread by @weiwuxiansnose, thinking abt yet another modern roommates au where, pre-living together, wwx ingratiates [...]

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thinking abt yet another modern roommates au where, pre-living together, wwx ingratiates himself to lwj by annoying him to death as usual.

but they move in together, sign a lease, etc. and wwx kinda chills out, so lwj is like, “wait, why isn’t he paying attention to me?”

because wwx had set the status quo, and lwj got used to it. even found himself enjoying the gentle ribbing, or at least thinking about it afterward and what it might mean re: wwx’s potential feelings about (for) him.

and he used to have wwx’s eyes on him all the time. now? whether it’s his phone or a video game or whatever’s on netflix, it seems like wwx’s attention is anywhere but.

it rankles lwj, if he’s going to be honest.

after two whole months of living in relative domestic comfort—which should have been the dream, honestly—he decides it might be time for drastic measures.

maybe wwx has run out of things to annoy him about (...unlikely, but lwj won’t take that chance).

maybe it’s time to take some drastic measures.

lwj racks his brain: what’s something that wwx always used to tease him about? ah, of course.

his fashion choices.

i.e., his low-key, cool-color palette and so-called “fine, but boring” fashion sense.

ok. so if wwx is bored of making fun of him for being boring, then how will he react if lwj... isn’t boring?

lwj texts nhs to ask where he gets his patterned shirts, and armed with a web address, takes to the internet.

the clothing on the 1st page is... alarmingly bright.

but there are still palettes that match his taste. so he adds them to his cart. there’s one with bunnies, and one with popsicle designs. there’s one with birds that he’s seen nhs wearing, but in a different colour. he adds that too.

but... well, he wants to be eyecatching.

he sorts by color: red. pink. orange. purple. black. green. anything but blue and white.

he adds one outrageous crime against the senses after another to his cart with only minimal pain.

armed with enough shirts to make it an entire 2wks w/o repeating, he clicks “check out.”

he barely gives the total a second glance even if it IS in the high triple digits.

he pays.

and then he waits.

wwx is the one to get the mail when the box arrives. he knocks on lwj’s bedroom door and leaves it outside, then goes and drapes himself across the couch with his laptop.

he looks up when lwj opens his door, and he smiles, yes, but he isn’t nosy.

he doesn’t pester lwj about what he ordered like he has when hanging out at lwj’s place in the past.

lwj takes a deep breath. he has errands to run. it’s now or never, isn’t it. he takes off his shirt, selects one of the least offensive articles of clothing, and puts it on.

he prepares everything before he leaves so he can make a quick exit. wallet. phone. “boring, keychainless keys.”

“I will be back before dinner,” lwj says as he heads to the door.

“ok, have fun,” wwx says. he doesn’t even look up.

swallowing his disappointment, lwj hums his affirmative and leaves.

when he gets back later—having picked up takeout for the both of them on the way home—wwx is in a game. headset on, controller buttons clicking. yelling at the tv. the usual.

lwj closes the door and wwx glances up, calls out, “hey, lan zhan!” and then returns his attention with a startled yelp to the explosions occurring onscreen.

in lwj’s experience, wwx will be at this for hours. he plates food—extra spicy—for him, puts it on the coffee table.

he eats his own dinner at the table and retreats to his room.

wwx had barely reacted to his presence, much less his wardrobe choices. maybe lwj needs to be bolder.

the next morning, as he prepares to settle in front of his computer for work, lwj puts on an abstract orange-and-pink monstrosity that he’d been reluctant about purchasing.

he looks in the mirror. he combs his hair. he contemplates the person he has turned into.

and he goes to his desk.

wwx won’t be up for another hour. although he does freelance, he’s actually pretty good about keeping a reasonable schedule—another thing lwj had been surprised about.

come to think of it, there are a lot of things that keep surprising him about wwx.

whether it’s the realization that while more chaotic than lwj would like, wwx /does/ have some sort of organization system. he keeps up with his share of the chores with minimal grumbling.

and maybe he’s not a model roommate all the time—

he /does/ get a bit noisy with his night time routine at one am, banging cupboard doors and such—but he isn’t a total nightmare like lwj had been prepared to deal with. so. best-case scenario.

except it feels like they’re more roommates than friends now. so.

“I made breakfast,” lwj says when he hears wwx’s door open.

“aw, you didn’t have to! i was going to make breakfast for /you/ since you got dinner last night. thank you, by the way, I don’t think i said—“

lwj looks up to see why wwx stopped speaking.

“—uh,” wwx says, veering off to the kitchen as soon as lwj makes eye contact with him. “yeah, i never said thank you. and now you do this! you’re such a good roommate, lan zhan. so, i guess, double thank-you!”

lwj’s heart drops. “no need,” he says.

the week passes much the same way. lwj tries a new shirt every day, and wwx doesn’t say anything.

lwj thinks he might catch wwx looking once or twice, /really/ looking, but then wwx looks away.

rinse, repeat.

he buys a cute keychain—a cloud with a smiley face on it. he asks wwx to put some spice in his food (though he only manages that twice before giving up that particular endeavour). he leaves his room /later/ than wwx one day.

and wwx comments on NONE of it.

“didi, just talk to him,” lxc says on the phone.

and say what? ‘why don’t you try to annoy me anymore? why don’t you keep trying to get my attention?’ no.

“or maybe he just feels more secure now that he has your attention,” lxc suggests.

lwj isn’t gonna ignore him, though.

gaudy fashion didn’t work, but what about /no/ fashion? that might do it.

so, after showering, lwj takes a deep breath. he walks out of the bathroom with no shirt on. although he doesn’t look to see if wwx is watching, the strangled noise from the living room says enough. (tbc)

lwj goes to the kitchen and puts on the kettle. he prepares his breakfast, makes his tea, and brings everything to the table. he sits.

the whole time, he can feel the weight of wwx's gaze on him, prickling at his skin. never in his whole life has he felt so exposed.

"uhh," he hears wwx say quietly.

"yes?" lwj replies, even though wwx may not have meant for him to hear that. he still doesn't look at his friend.

"oh! um. are you... is it... uh. do you—"

"speak clearly, wei ying."

wwx laughs nervously. "lan zhan..."

"wei ying."

silence.

"uh, did you put enough water in the kettle for another cup of tea? I was thinking I might have some."

...

"you will have to boil more," says lwj. he could easily get up and do that, since he's closer. but forgive him if he's feeling a little put out.

"...right. okay."

lwj puts a spoonful of congee in his mouth.

wwx gets up.

lwj takes a sip of his tea, scrolling through emails on his phone.

wwx walks into the kitchen, right past where lwj is sitting.

"hey, uh," he says when he gets to the counter.

"should we... do... uh, a load of laundry today? maybe? do we need to? i might need to put in a few loads, I've been running behind on stuff like that because I've been so focused on this project. i can do some of yours at the same time, if you want? i'll read the labels first."

lwj finally looks up to find wwx clutching a bag of lwj's looseleaf herbal tea like a child holding onto a teddy bear. he's staring right at lwj; his mouth snaps shut. his face is entirely red.

"I will do a load tomorrow," lwj replies, his voice remarkably even. "but thank you."

"right! right, okay. i just thought—yeah, yeah, no, okay. cool. um. tea, right," wwx says, pivoting toward the counter. "tea. mugs." he continues muttering to himself. lwj watches him for as long as his back is turned, looks at the way his pajamas accentuate certain... things.

by the time wwx turns back to him, lwj is deeply engrossed in an article his brother sent. as he scrolls, he doesn't take in a single word on the screen.

wwx pours his tea and brings his mug to the table. he sits across from lwj with his own phone in hand.

"so. um. how's... work?" he asks, drumming his fingers against the back of the device.

"busy," lwj says. he finishes the last of his congee and gets up to wash and put away his dishes, then takes his tea to his desk. "and yours?"

"my..." wwx murmurs, his eyes /not/ on lwj's.

"mine's good," he manages. he looks away, toward his desk, toward lwj's vacated seat at the table. back at lwj. "cool. i'll um. leave you to it, then."

"mn," says lwj, sitting at his desk—still shirtless, which just feels wrong, honestly—and putting on his headphones.

finally, after lunch, necessity dictates that lwj put something on. he breathes a sigh of relief as he dons one of his usual light blue button-downs and heads for the door to run his weekly errands. "I will be back," he says.

wwx looks up and gapes at him. "o-okay. um. see you."

...so lwj is getting reactions, but not the ones he'd expected. he's not afraid to admit they /are/ the ones he'd hoped for, though. his ears burn when he thinks of the apparent effect he'd had on wwx.

but wwx is still not /teasing/ him.

so what if... lwj teased wwx first?

he's done it before, so it's not completely new territory for him, but his style tends to be more subtle. he can keep it up for a good while before wwx finally catches on; his secret lies in the fact that he does it just infrequently enough so as not to raise suspicion.

for now, maybe the reversion back to his "normal" state of being (i.e. wearing clothes that don't double as warning beacons) will provide enough opportunity to get started.

at least he seems to have thrown wwx off his rhythm.

he returns home in much better spirits.

wwx is on a game with his friends again, but this time, when lwj comes home, he tells them that he has to go.

then he takes off his headset and runs over to the door to help with the groceries.

"lan zhan! let me help," he says, taking literally all of the bags from lwj's arms. "how've you been? how was your day? i feel like we barely see each other!"

"I saw you this morning," lwj points out. "and yesterday. and the day before."

"well, yeah, but—"

wwx turns to look at him before starting to empty the bags. "ah, never mind. I'm just being silly."

"mn, but... that is nothing new."

wwx freezes. he tilts his head. "lan zhan. did you just... call me silly?"

"mn."

wwx laughs nervously. "who /are/ you and what have you done with my roommate?"

"I'm lan zhan," says lwj, offering his hand with a raised eyebrow. "nice to meet you."

wwx blinks at it. blinks at lwj's face. narrows his eyes.

"are you teasing me?"

"hm. am I?"

"I'm pretty sure you're teasing me."

"that would be strange and entirely out of character."

"yes, it would! you're supposed to be the straight man!—i don't mean like /that/, i mean in our comedy duo. y'know. you're the one who never breaks."

lwj's other eyebrow raises to join the first. "our comedy duo."

"yeah, you know, like. I'm the loveable goofball and you're the stoic no-nonsense one."

"are you saying I'm not loveable?"

"what? no! lan zhan! aghh. of course you're loveable."

wwx, face red, waves a bundle of scallions at him to indicate lwj's whole body. "look at you! what's not to love, ah?"

lwj's ears start to heat, but—this is good. he can work with this. "my lack of nonsense. my 'resting bitch face'," he lists off, exhibiting said RBF.

"okay, okay, I take it back. you're not no-nonsense. you're actually /overflowing/ with nonsense," wwx says, then mutters, "and shut up, your face is cute," before clamping his mouth shut and staring at lwj, wide-eyed.

...oh. "make me," says lwj before he can stop himself.

wwx continues staring at lwj, who has never had a problem with blurting things out before but apparently is about to start, and lwj stares at wwx, whose face is going, somehow, even redder.

then wwx whirls around and nearly smacks his face on the open cupboard door.

"so!" he says, far too loudly, recovering just in time. "dinner? what'd you get? wanna do scallion pancakes? i can cook! you go, uh, do what you need to do!"

lwj lets out a quiet breath of relief.

he hadn't meant to be /that/ effective.

"i will help," he says. "unless my nonsense is going to get in your way."

"aiya, lan zhan, have mercy," wwx whines. "please! you're bad for my nerves!"

"...how so?"

"you /know/. your whole... thing."

"i am afraid i do not follow. please elaborate."

"with the shirts! and then the... the NO shirt! i've been trying really hard not to, like, make you uncomfortable because I really like you—um, living here. with me."

lwj's heart kicks into immediate overdrive. "wei ying, what?"

wwx faces him again and takes a deep breath.

"jiang cheng said I'd better not annoy you into breaking the lease early, and I was like 'ahaha, lan zhan would never do that, we're friends!' but then I got to thinking, 'oh my god, what if he /did/,' and then I was like 'oh no that would be awful' and, um. yeah."

"...jiang cheng," lwj says in disbelief.

"yeah. ok. now that i say it out loud, I can see how stupid it sounds, haha."

"wei ying. you do not make me uncomfortable."

"oh."

"and I apologize for not making that clear."

"oh my god, no, lan zhan! it's not your fault."

"and if I have made you uncomfortable in in any way—"

"lan zhaaaan," wwx interrupts, "stop! you haven't, I promise. fuck."

"mm... the shirts? the... no shirt?"

wwx looks away. "i mean. okay, but maybe 'uncomfortable' isn't the right word for... um, how i feel about that."

lwj can skip going for a run tomorrow; his heart is getting enough of a workout as it is. "how you feel," he echoes.

"yeah, um. you're, like, really hot, you know? I thought I was gonna combust when you walked out of the bathroom like that."

"I... gathered that, yes."

wwx blinks at him. "lan zhan, did you. did you do that on purpose?"

lwj presses his lips into a thin line.

"holy shit, you /did/," wwx says, voice climbing an octave. "are you... are you trying to... to se/duce/ me?"

lwj furrows his brow. "you stopped teasing," he says, defensive. and, apparently leaning into this new 'blurting things out' habit, he continues: "and you barely looked at me. I was... unsure why."

"so you were trying to get me to look at you."

"hm. brilliant inference."

"are you being sarcastic? shit, lan zhan, I didn't even know you knew how to do that."

lwj sniffs indignantly. he's /trying/ to be /heartfelt/ here.

"you were trying to get me to look at you," wwx repeats, mostly to himself. "holy shit. fuck."

he smiles. "I... thought you hated being looked at. but uh, guess not, ah?"

"no. not when it's you."

wwx covers his face. "oh my god," he mutters into his palms. "oh my god."

lwj might as well sew his heart on his sleeve. he says, "I also like looking at you."

"lan /zhaaaaaaan/! how am I supposed to know these things, huh? maybe your ears turn a little red, but—" wwx sighs; it turns into a quiet, shoulder-shaking laugh. "your face really doesn't show anything."

so lwj takes wwx's wrist, gently pulling his hand away from his face.

wwx watches with his uncovered eye.

lwj takes wwx's hand and puts it over his racing heart.

"ohh," wwx breathes. "i see. also, um." he squeezes his fingertips against lwj's pectoral a little and giggles. "you're really toned, er-gege."

"...mn."

wwx looks him in the eye, dropping his other hand from his face and moving it to lwj's right pectoral to match.

abruptly, lwj finds it difficult to breathe, his breaths coming out all shallow and... anticipatory.

"this is ok?" wwx whispers, and lwj nods helplessly.

wwx asks, barely audible even as he leans closer, "what about this?" and slowly goes up on his tiptoes to kiss lan zhan right on the mouth.

definitely ok. definitely, positively, absolutely, 100% okay, lwj thinks before his brain stops working altogether.

his arms move on their own to wrap around wwx's waist and pull him close, and then they're REALLY kissing—open-mouthed, cute-little-noise-inducing /kissing/.

wwx's hands slide up and over lwj's collarbones, tugging at his shirt & the other winding around his neck. he leans away to demand, "/off/" before lwj pulls him back in and nips his lower lip, drawing out a surprised yelp that he muffles by sliding his tongue into wwx's mouth.

but then wwx's stomach growls, and he pulls away for real. "ahh, we should—dinner? maybe? fuck, I don't wanna stop."

"order in," lwj says, dipping his head to mouth at wwx's neck instead.

wwx gasps, tangling his fingers into the hair at the nape of lwj's neck. "so smart."

tilting his head to allow lwj better access, he pulls his phone from his pocket.

their dinner arrives 45 minutes later. lwj untangles himself from on top of wwx on the couch and grabs the first shirt he sees. it's not until he's at the door that he realizes it's not /his/.

he returns to wwx with the bag in hand and a little smile to match wwx's Absolutely Delighted expression upon seeing him.

"lan zhan, ah," he asks. "if you were looking to try something new, you could've just asked to borrow one of my shirts, you know?

what are you going to do with all those other ones you got? wear them whenever you want my attention?"

he grins. lwj raises an eyebrow and gets up off the couch.

"lan zhan!" wwx laughs. "come back."

"hm. I will."

he emerges from his room a couple minutes later wearing as many of the shirts layered over each other as he could comfortably fit. wwx /loses/ it as lwj primly sits on the edge of the couch.

"how much of wei ying's attention will this get me?" he asks, stone-faced.

burying his face in his hands, wwx shakes with unrestrained glee. "all of it, lan zhan, you've always had all of it. I'm so sorry I made you think you didn't, but—"

lwj tugs his hands out of the way and kisses him quiet with a smile. "mn. and you've always had all of mine, too."