not to be horny on main but im thinking about pre-relationship wangxian going away for the weekend together (for lwj's birthday, maybe?), just the two of them, which is TOTALLY what best friends do, RIGHT? and the heating goes out in the cabin they're staying in and.........

actually you know what im in the mood for a little thread fic

"cosy and cute!" the website had advertised. "the perfect weekend getaway!" a beautiful picture of a golden-lit lounge. "you won't want to leave!" beams across the kitchen ceiling and snow outside the windows.

empty. promises.

"that's the last of the logs," wei ying says as he kicks the door shut behind him, dimming the noise of the storm outside. he is drenched, stack of logs towering in his arms. lan zhan watches a droplet of water drip off his eyebrow and land on his cheek. wei ying grins.

"don't worry, lan zhan! it'll probably only be a couple more hours. the owner said the electrician would be out tonight."

hm, lan zhan thinks. it has *been* a couple of hours since they called, and the cabin has only got colder in that time. he turns back to the fire.

wei ying dumps the logs into the basket by the fire & shakes his hands off. "ugh," wei ying says. "i'm soaked. did you check if the hot water was working? i would kill for a shower."

"it is not," lan zhan says, and doesn't look at how wei ying's jeans are clinging to his thighs.

"noooooo," wei ying groans. "lan zhan. i'm so cold and wet. can't you see how i've suffered for your comfort? and now i can't even warm up :("

lwj thinks: suffering for comfort, huh. he thinks: there are ways we could warm up.

he keeps quiet.

"boo, lan zhan," wei ying continues. he hasn't stopped talking since he got into lan zhan's car that morning. he was probably even muttering to himself while gathering logs. lan zhan wouldn't want him to stop for the world. "you're no fun."

"i suggested we play chess."

"*chess*, lan zhan. chess. you cannot tell me you expected to play chess all weekend."

lwj frowns. he would have been very happy to play chess with wei ying all weekend. their eyes could have met over the tiles. he would have let wei ying take his queen.

"no, lan zhan," wei ying carries on. he has folded himself down in front of the fire now, next to lan zhan, heedless of where their knees are pressing together and the wet denim of his jeans is slowly soaking water through lan zhan's blanket. "we shall simply have to suffer."

suffer. lan zhan's been doing that, alright, storm and electricity and heating out or no—he's been suffering all day. hell, he's been suffering all *month*, ever since wei ying had bounded into his hallway and said, "hey, lan zhan! we should go away together for your birthday!"

he had said yes, of course, had agreed before wei ying had even shared any details. his brother had wandered in from the kitchen and heard their discussion and had immediately suggested the cabin he went to with his boyfriends last year. he'd noticeably not mentioned that the

cabin chain specified in romantic getaways. wei ying had been very excited and had protested at length until lan zhan had let him pay.

(your birthday treat, lan zhan! let your best bro treat you to a weekend away, pleeeaaaaase, we can do whatever you want!)

whatever he wants. hm.

wei ying huffs and leans closer to their little fire. it's spitting and smoky, the wood still too wet to burn well. lan zhan can see the shape of wei ying's shoulders under his shirt. it's soaked through; he should probably take it off.

"you will make yourself ill," lan zhan says carefully. wei ying turns to look at him, eyes curious in the low light. "if you remain in your wet clothes." that's not—that's fine. wei ying can go up to his room and change. that's all lan zhan is suggesting.

"oh," wei ying says, and laughs a little. "yeah, you—you're right, probably." he shuffles, but doesn't get up. "kinda don't want to leave the fire's warmth, though."

"hm," lan zhan says, and drags his eyes away from wei ying, back to the flames. he's still cold.

the wood crackles, the house settles around them. no signal, no neighbours, no power. just the two of them, in the dark. lan zhan looks at wei ying again. his little pony tail is dripping water down his back. his arms are wrapped around his legs. he's shivering.

"here," lan zhan says before he can stop himself, and lifts the blanket he's wrapped in. "warmer."

"huh?" wei ying looks from the blanket to his face. "lan zhan, you—you don't have to do that. haha. i'll be fine."

lan zhan doesn't say anything, doesn't move. wei ying giggles

nervously, and when he realises that lan zhan is not going to fold, shuffles awkwardly closer to him. he settles against lan zhan's side, and lan zhan tucks the blanket around him, and then his mind goes completely blank.

wei ying is pressed against his side. wei ying is wet & surface-cold-but-warm-underneath against his side. wei ying is breathing right there, next to him, his face turned a little into lan zhan's chest so the blanket can stay tight around them, and lan zhan can feel every breath—

"'s better, you're right," wei ying murmurs. "thanks."

"mn."

"still kinda wet though." wei ying shuffles, and his wet hair brushes lan zhan's jaw. he smells of rainwater and faintly like pomegranate shampoo. "sorry."

lan zhan will happily endure a fully drenched wei ying if it

means he can hold him against his side like this. he makes a little noise in his throat, a little "it's fine", and wei ying hums and shuffles in closer.

the fire crackles. wei ying's hand is resting on his knee. "this is nice," wei ying mumbles.

lan zhan freezes. wei ying's finger drifts over the curve of his knee, tentative. "lan zhan. 'm still cold." lan zhan swallows. wei ying traces over his kneecap, over to the inseam of his pants, hesitates there. his head is almost fully resting on his shoulder now. his voice

drops to a whisper. he's moving slowly but—with intent. "do you—we could, um. i mean, if you're cold too. we could. uh." his voice is barely audible. "help warm each other up?"

lan zhan's pulse is hammering in his throat. wei ying's finger has drifted upwards, up his thigh, up his inseam, a little trail of electric heat—

"wei ying," he says. his voice comes out lower than intended.

"mhm," wei ying murmurs, pressing his nose against lan zhan's jaw.

"wei ying," lan zhan repeats, breathier, wei ying's hand sliding higher, and his eyes slip shut as wei ying opens his mouth against his skin.

"lan zhan," wei ying whines. "it's so cold. let me warm you up, lan zhan. let me make you feel good."

there is no way this is happening right now. there is no way that wei ying, wei ying his best friend, wei ying who has never made any indication that he might be into men, wei ying who he has been in love with for years—that wei ying is currently sucking a hickey into his neck.

// okay, gonna have to stop there bc my brain is going mushy and it's time for bed soon! you've probably guessed but going forward this is going to be !!

// as i mentioned above, nsfw from here!

his cock seems to have no qualms about stirring in his pants under wei ying's attention; the slow drag of his fingers up the inside of lan zhan's thigh is torturous, close enough to tease and yet not close *enough*. wei ying has shifted,

shuffling up on his knees to press closer, to slide his other arm across lan zhan's side, up his back under the blanket.

"wei ying," lan zhan says again, the words sticking in his throat as wei ying drags his lips over it, hot & wet. "you—"

"shh, lan zhan. let me warm you up."

lan zhan is helpless. wei ying *is* warm, despite the rain still drying on him, and close, and insistent, and lan zhan—lan zhan would be lying if he said this was not wildly better than anything he could have imagined for this weekend.

wei ying makes a little noise, his teeth catching on lan zhan's collarbone, and lan zhan cannot help the gasp that escapes him. he doesn't know what to do with his hands, caught as he is in this trap of heat and desire, and touching wei ying—even though wei ying is touching him,

touching wei ying feels like—like there is a tremendous flood held back behind the thin dam of his conscious, and touching wei ying would break the dam and let it all rush out, loud and ferocious and careless of where it went. he twists a hand into the blanket.

"lan zhan," wei ying murmurs. "you taste so good. never would have thought you tasted good." his tongue flicks over lan zhan's jaw. "actually, scratch that, look at you. of course you taste fucking delicious."

"wei ying," lan zhan replies, voice choked. "please."

"hm?" wei ying slings a leg over lan zhan's, and then just like that he's in his lap, and the blanket is slipping off their shoulders, and wei ying's mouth is hot on his ear and his hand is brushing over lan zhan's cock—"you like that, baby? feeling warmer?"

lan zhan cannot stop the little noise his throat makes when wei ying palms him properly, chuckling against his skin. "yeah, you do," wei ying teases, and nips at his ear. "you're so hot, fuck."

there is something twisting in lan zhan's chest, tight and horrible, because—because—

because. "wei ying," he manages again, and gets a hand on wei ying's chest, and pushes him back.

wei ying looks a little lost, pouting at him in the firelight, mouth messy and red already, and lan zhan *aches*. "you don't want to?" wei ying says, his voice like broken glass.

don't want to—as if there was anything lan zhan wanted more—

"i do," he says, makes himself form the words and put them into the air between them. "wei ying, i—of course i do."

"well then," wei ying says, and kneels up again. "why can't we—"

"not like this."

wei ying pouts, and lan zhan loves him. "then like what," he says in a huff. "i get if you don't—don't want me, lan zhan, it's fine, i was just trying to help, i don't know."

lan zhan's brain is still stuck on *don't want me.* "trying to help?"

"yeah. it's—it's silly, i know."

"not silly," lan zhan is quick to say. "wei ying."

"i don't understand," wei ying says, and curls his fingers into his wet shirt. "i thought—"

"it is not," lan zhan starts, making himself say it. "that i do not want you."

"then what's the—"

he takes a deep breath. "if this is merely an act of friendship," lan zhan says, looking anywhere but at wei ying, "then i do not want it. i—i cannot allow myself to want it."

"lan zhan," wei ying breathes, and lan zhan glances at him, and his eyes are huge. "what do you mean?"

he is so beautiful, lan zhan thinks. he is beautiful even when he jokes, even when he says "we're like an old married couple, lan zhan!", and when he teases and prods and laughs, and when he drapes himself all over his friends, like every moment isn't a nail in lan zhan's heart.

perhaps this will be the final nail, to seal the coffin. "oh, haha, lan zhan! i didn't mean it like that. i just thought i could help you out, as a good friend, you know!" lan zhan does not want to be friends. not like this.

"wei ying," he says, stiff. "i am in love with you."

he has closed his eyes. he does not dare open them. he does not want to see the confusion on wei ying's face, the alarm, the way he can fit his smile around any awkward situation and tease his way out of it; he cannot risk losing this and yet he may already have—

"lan zhan," wei ying's voice whispers; it is closer than he imagined it would be. a hand settles on his cheek. "oh, lan zhan."

his eyes flutter open, and there is wei ying, lit from behind by the fire, eyes glinting, hair wet. he is smiling. "i think i'm in love with you too."

lan zhan stares, and stares, and stares. his brain is a box of static white noise. wei ying. in love with him. wei ying. love. here. kissing? kissing—

he surges forwards at the same time as wei ying, who is laughing into it, and they meet somewhere in the middle, hot and hungry.

wei ying huffs into lan zhan's mouth, still laughing, and lan zhan can feel it too, bubbling up inside him, the dam about to break—wei ying loves him—wei ying loves him—

the blanket has slipped away, discarded on the floor, and wei ying's mouth is wet but searing hot, and his

tongue is as daring and bold and his hands, as they run over lan zhan's shoulders, his sides, his hips. one slips under his shirt, the other palming his cock again. lan zhan nips at his lip, and wei ying moan-giggles, and whispers, "maybe you were right about the wet clothes."

"mn," lan zhan replies, and dares to tug at wei ying's t-shirt, to feel the brush of tantalising skin underneath. "off."

they topple over at some point between wei ying launching said t-shirt across the room and lan zhan pulling him further into his lap, wet denim warm already.

wei ying lands on his back, still smiling so brightly. "oof, lan zhan," he giggles. "warn a guy."

he says this, but then he immediately tugs lan zhan down on top of him and wraps his legs around lan zhan's thighs, and yeah, that's—that's his cock pressed against lan zhan's—

lan zhan groans, and wei ying gasps, and they rock their hips together, messy and uncoordinated. "oh, fuck, yeah, baby," wei ying mutters, "that's good, yeah, right—right there—"

lan zhan buries his face in wei ying's neck and bites at the first bit of skin available, just to

hear the noise he makes. wei ying's hands are in his hair, on his ass, & he can feel how hard he is even through the thick denim between them, and that needs to come off too, he thinks. he licks over the bite, and wriggles a hand down in between them, fumbling for wei ying's fly.

"oh, oh, oh, yeah," wei ying mumbles, and nudges at lan zhan until they're sat up again. he immediately starts peeling himself out of his jeans, and lan zhan stares.

wei ying flushes and giggles. "hey! you were the one who told me to take them off."

he had. he had said that.

wei ying is gorgeous. he's lean and golden and his hipbones jut out and lan zhan wants to put his mouth on them. he is going to put his mouth of them, he decides. wei ying hooks his thumbs into his boxers and wiggles his eyebrows. "like what you see?"

lan zhan stares, and realises wei ying is waiting for a response, so he nods, and wei ying laughs. "oh, baby. you're allowed to think i'm hot. i don't mind."

"wei ying is the most hot," lan zhan says again, and wei ying snorts and shoves his boxers off.

lan zhan thinks, that's wei ying's cock. lan zhan thinks, god, it's a beautiful cock. lan zhan thinks, i'm going to put my mouth on it.

"hey," wei ying says, kneeling up & shuffling closer. "feeling kinda like i'm losing the clothing competition here." he kisses lan zhan's nose.

"care to join me?"

lan zhan very much would. he has completely forgotten about the cold now, caught up in wei ying's warmth, and he barely feel it as they shed his sweater and his shirt and his pants, only stopping kissing when they have to.

wei ying dips a finger into his briefs and nips lan zhan's lip and says, "is this okay?" as if he didn't fully palm him earlier and they didn't rut against each other on the floor like animals. lan zhan nods, of course, and then he's naked, and they're both naked.

"hey," wei ying murmurs, and kisses him sweetly, like lan zhan is made of porcelain.

"i want to suck your cock," lan zhan says.

wei ying splutters and flushes red and tightens his hands on lan zhan's waist and nods and nods and nods. "ye—yep, yeah, honey, that's, wow—"

lan zhan presses him back down onto the rug, hovers over him and kisses his mouth, his chin, his jaw. the curve of his neck, the slide of his collarbone. drags his tongue down to a nipple, flicks over it, eliciting a gasp of his name that sends shivers down his back.

his stomach flutters underneath lan zhan's mouth, damp and dampening still with sweat. the dip of his belly, the trail of hair leading down from his navel. lan zhan noses at it and wei ying's dick brushes against his chin. he drags his mouth outwards, and nips at his hipbones.

"lan zhan," wei ying gasps, "stop teasing."

wei ying is one to talk—but lan zhan is just as hungry as he is, and he finally nuzzles at the base of wei ying's cock, licks up the shaft, lets the tip dip between his lips. it's salty and hot and dizzying. wei ying is watching him,

eyes lidded, an elbow thrown over his forehead and the other thread into lan zhan's hair. "lan zhan," he whispers, and lan zhan takes it as his cue to sink his mouth down around the blazing length of him, and wei ying moans and tips his head back and twitches his hips.

"holy shit, oh my god, god, good—good boy," wei ying gasps, and lan zhan's skin prickles with pleasure at it. he bobs his head a little, tentative, and swirls his tongue, and wei ying's hands tighten sharply in his hair, then loosen all too soon—"sorry, sorry, babe—"

he pulls off just long enough to talk, and his voice is already sticking in his throat as if wei ying had fucked his face. "you can," he says, and reaches up to tighten wei ying's hand in his hair. "you can pull my hair. want to make you feel good."

"oh my god, lan zhan."

he dives right back in, takes wei ying as far into his throat as he can, and wei ying does as he's told and *tugs* on his hair and it's so *fucking* good that lan zhan can't help but moan around him. his own cock is helplessly hard, already leaking, and he spares a thought for

the cabin cleaner before taking himself in hand and working himself over in time with the bobbing of his head. wei ying is not quiet about his pleasure; he never has been, even when lan zhan had only seen him experience food- and cute animal-based enjoyment. he is *loud*.

he is loud and expressive and completely shameless and lan zhan loves him for it. he sucks harder, pulls off to lick at his shaft, to flick his tongue over the slit and catch the dripping precome there before swallowing him down again, and soon wei ying is writhing and gasping.

"lan zhan," he pants. "lan zhan, lan zhan, lan zhan, baby, you've gotta, i'm gonna, you should, lan zhan—"

lan zhan does not pull off. he finds wei ying's eyes, hazy and wet, and fixes his gaze, and drags his lips up with particular enthusiasm, and wei ying whimpers and comes.

he comes, and comes, and lan zhan swallows down as much of the hot bitterness of it as he can before he has to pull off gasping for air. wei ying is already grabbing at him, whining and mumbling, and as soon as he's back at eye level he's flipped lan zhan onto his back and is

gripping his cock in a hand wet with spit and precome. "fuck, baby," he gasps, and kisses him to taste himself. on lan zhan's tongue. wei ying's taste in his mouth. his hand on his cock. his breath, hot and sweet, caught between them, and lan zhan is gonna—

he spills hot and and hard over wei ying's fingers and his own stomach, grunting wei ying's name against the open spread of his lips, hands tight around his skin. it's heady and overwhelming, the best orgasm he has had in a considerably long time, and wei ying murmurs through it.

"look at you, gorgeous. god, lan zhan, you're so fucking beautiful. yeah, come for me, baby, that's it, sweetheart, baby, love you so much—"

he comes down to wei ying's soft eyes and sated smile. he's propped up on one elbow. lan zhan never wants to stop looking at him.

"hey," wei ying whispers, and lan zhan drifts his gaze over his cheeks, his hair, his shoulders. the fire has died down, but wei ying is emitting warmth enough to heat the entire cabin. "warmed up now?"

"shameless," mutters lan zhan, but wei ying giggles and kisses his chin.

"here." he grabs his discarded boxers and wipes the come off lan zhan's stomach. "clean you up."

"wei ying," lan zhan murmurs, as wei ying tugs the blanket out from where it had slid beneath an armchair and pulls it over them.

"hm?" wei ying lies down again. "yeah?"

lan zhan pulls him closer, and wei ying slings a leg over his hip with a grin. "hiya."

"wei ying." he rests his forehead against wei ying's; it's so close he can barely focus on his face. "i love you. so much." thank you for loving me back, he thinks.

"aiya, lan zhan. you're

gonna have to warn me, you know."

"warn you?"

"when you say things like that. i'm just one guy, lan zhan. i'm need time to prepare. mentally and emotionally and physically."

"i will try my best," lan zhan says, but he's sure wei ying can hear the smirk in his voice.

the fire is dying down to embers now, and they should probably get up and stoke it and get water boiling and put on warm layers, but—this is perfect, right here. safe and warm under the blanket with the person he loves.

"i'm sorry about before," wei ying ventures into the quiet.

"sorry?"

"when i—i know i like to tease. say stuff i don't mean. and maybe—maybe in the past, it would have just been that, just fun between friends, me experimenting, whatever. but lan zhan. it's not. this is—this is so real, god. i haven't—i don't even know how to explain it."

"you do not need to," lan zhan says, and wei ying makes a little "hm?" in response. lan zhan finds his hand and wraps it in his, holds it against his chest. "you don't need to explain," he continues. "i know. i can feel it."

"oh," wei ying breathes.

the fire crackles. the wind and rain lash at the windows. and wei ying smiles, soft and slow and tentative. "okay."

"and besides," lan zhan continues, and he can already feel his ears heating up, "there are plenty of ways that you can show me."

// THE END of the written narrative here is some more fun:

- they fuck again in front of the fire (wei ying returns the favour)
- the rest of the cabin is so cold that they end up bringing all the bedding down and actually sleeping there too, wrapped up in each other

- the electrician doesn't show up until the following morning but they do manage to fix everything which means that:
- wangxian of course spend the rest of the weekend """playing chess""" and lan zhan lets wei ying take his queen SEVERAL times and he also takes wei ying's knight

SEVERAL times and wei ying really does get lots and lots of opportunities to show him exactly how he feels, and so does lan zhan in reverse
- when they get home lxc takes one look at them and then wears the most self-satisfied smile for the rest of the week. lwj hates (loves) him

from the top! https://twitter.com/daltoneering/status/1358177505027489792?s=20

my ko-fi! (only if you feel you can/want to, absolutely no pressure!) https://ko-fi.com/daltoneering