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Wei Wuxian stares up at the large glass building, taking in the sight of the various runners on treadmills facing the beautiful weather outside while locked away from the fresh air and sunshine in favor of air conditioning, and shakes his head.
He can't believe that it's come to this. He's about to become a gym person.
It's been a long time coming. Years of sitting at a desk, staring at lines of code and talking to his little devil-horned rubber ducky (a gift from A-Yuan, that kid is truly the best) was always going to lead here: to a slightly soft middle (acceptable), a sore back (less ideal), and high blood pressure (whoops). The latter of which, according to Wen Qing, is a ticking time bomb that he 'brought on himself by subsisting on instant noodles and getting less than zero exercise for five years, what did he think would happen?'
Honestly, Wei Wuxian has never met anyone so good at berating him as Wen Qing—Jiang Cheng included. He desperately hopes the pair of them never meet, he's not sure he would survive it.
In any case, after many such barbs and one bad dizzy spell that had led to a head injury when he fell over on his way to the bathroom, he's finally agreed to "clean up his act", if only to get Wen Qing off his back a little.
Hence, the gym. At least this place has a pool and a steam room. It had come at Nie Huaisang's recommendation; apparently his brother owned it. That's good enough for Wei Wuxian, who is really looking forward to a more spa-like experience anyway. If his problem is high blood pressure, he reasons that, more than exercise, what he really needs is to de-stress.
It is with this mindset that he pushes his way through the double doors of the gym front and walks over to the front desk.
"Hello," greets a smiling face behind the counter. A smiling and very handsome face. "I haven't seen you here before. Are you new?"
"Yeah, I'm Wei Wuxian."
"Oh, you have the appointment! One moment, let me get Mingjue."
Smiley man stands and…oh wow. Smiley man's got a lot more than just a nice face going for him. Wei Wuxian might be a little past his prime, but he was a national level swimmer once upon a time. He's no slouch, not really, but even he's never seen shoulders like that before. This guy is absolutely jacked.
He quickly starts doing some mental calculus, trying to decide if flirting with the front desk guy is worth the gamble on potential future awkwardness, when he returns a moment later with yet another physical specimen that makes Wei Wuxian's brain short circuit.
Holy shit, he thinks as the man reaches out a hand and introduces himself as Nie Mingjue, he hadn't even realized that chests came in that size.
"Wait…Nie Mingjue?" he splutters suddenly as his brain catches up with the rest of him. "As in the owner?"
"Yes."
"As in Huaisang's brother?"
Here the confused look on Mingjue's face gives way to a booming laugh. "Yeah, that's me. Surprised?"
"I—you're different than what I'd imagined. I mean, he's—" Wei Wuxian waves a hand around chin height "and you're…" here he just lets his hand fall, doing his best to indicate Nie Mingjue's whole everything. Nie Mingjue lifts an eyebrow as the smiley guy next to him laughs.
"Technically, we're half brothers. Huaisang resembles his mom."
"Right," Wei Wuxian says. "That must be it."
"A-Jue, I'm going to go check the schedule, see who's available," smiley guy says, his hand landing lightly on Nie Mingjue's shoulder, his thumb swiping back and forth a few times.
"Thanks, Xichen. I'll handle the paperwork."
Nie Mingjue takes smiley man—Xichen's hand in his own and drops a kiss to the back of it. Xichen's smile grows before he retreats to the back. Wei Wuxian is suddenly very glad he didn't flirt with him, not that it would've mattered. The guy is clearly head over heels smitten, and Wei Wuxian doubts his efforts would've even registered.
"Just a day pass?"
"Huh? Oh! Um. Yeah, just the pass for today."
Nie Mingjue takes him through the registration process, talking him through the details. “If you decide to sign up, the price of today’s pass will be taken off your monthly dues. Just let me or Lan Xichen know when you’re done and we’ll handle it. Speaking of!” He turns just as Lan Xichen re-enters from the back, followed shortly after by a younger man who can only be his brother. His much hotter, much meaner looking brother.
Wei Wuxian is starting to feel a little dizzy again. Maybe it’s his blood pressure. Suddenly, he wonders if Nie Huaisang recommended this gym as some sort of prank. Or, no. A vengeance scheme. That was probably it. Wei Wuxian can’t think of anything he’d done to piss Huaisang off but, then, his memory is shit and Nie Huaisang’s is concerningly long.
This is it, then. Nie Huaisang is going to kill Wei Wuxian through exposure to hot men.
What a way to go.
“Wei Wuxian, this is Lan Wangji. He’s one of my best trainers, and he’ll be showing you around today.”
“Call me Wei Ying,” Wei Wuxian says, regaining his head a little. “I hope you’ll take it easy on me, Lan Wangji. I’m just an old desk rat, I’m not sure I can keep up.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji hums, that simple sound filled with so much judgment that it makes Wei Wuxian’s scalp tingle. “We will see.”
“Ah ah, Lan Wangji, please, no more, I can’t take it.”
“You can.”
“I can’t! I really can’t! Mercy!”
“Almost there.”
“I’m too old for this! I’m fragile! Please!”
“One more rep.”
Wei Wuxian presses the dumbbells into the air a final time, Lan Wangji’s hands coming to his elbows to guide him, two fingers pressing gently to give a little assistance as his arms shake.
“Well done,” Lan Wangji says, plucking the weights from Wei Wuxian’s hands before he can drop them.
“Done? Did you say we’re done?” Wei Wuxian falls sideways to grab his towel where it is strewn on the floor, mopping his face with it.
“No,” Lan Wangji says, the bastard. “I still need to assess your vertical pulling capacity.”
“It’s good,” Wei Wuxian says, scrambling to follow him, only remembering to grab a wipe and clean off the bench he’d been sitting on when Lan Wangji narrows his eyes pointedly and glares. “Trust me. Vertical pulling? I’m a natural. The best at it. No need to waste time looking.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji hums, in the way that Wei Wuxian can’t tell if he loves or hates. He hates it because he knows it means something painful is coming. He loves it because…well. Has he mentioned that Lan Wangji is very sexy? Because. Wow. “It would be best for me to assess myself.”
Wei Wuxian groans. He hadn’t really expected to get out of it so easily, but a guy can hope. This Lan Wangji is brutal, he’s clearly too young to understand that Wei Wuxian’s bones are only a few days from turning into dust. Wei Wuxian tells him so.
“You are 32,” Lan Wangji says, somehow managing to give the effect of rolling his eyes through his voice alone.
“Yeah and you’re, what? 23? You can’t possibly understand.”
“I am 26.”
“Same difference! A spring chicken compared to me!”
Lan Wangji ignores this. Which? Fair. Wei Wuxian is barely even listening to himself, mostly just complaining on principle at this point. After all, he hadn’t expected to be put through his paces so thoroughly on his first day like this. He hadn’t planned on actually working out at all. His plan had been to check out the swimming pool, maybe get a couple laps in so he could say he worked out, if Wen Qing asked, and then go and sit in the steam room until he turned into a prune.
This whole working out thing, though? It’s really not for him. Wei Ying hopes his suffering today will be enough to satisfy Nie Huaisang for whatever misdeed he committed, because Wei Wuxian is never coming back.
“Are you familiar with pull-ups?”
It’s Wei Wuxian’s turn to roll his eyes. Does Lan Wangji think he’s an idiot? They’re standing at a bar now. Lan Wangji watches him patiently. Wei Wuxian chooses to play ignorant. He tilts his head to the side, catching the end of his ponytail and twirling it around his finger. “A pull-up? What’s a pull-up, gege?”
Lan Wangji’s nostrils flare, and Wei Wuxian mentally congratulates himself on a job well done. That is, right up until Lan Wangji reaches up and grabs the bar, lifting himself effortlessly over the top with one arm.
That alone would’ve been enough to do all sorts of funny things to Wei Wuxian’s insides. He is—not to emphasize the point too much—a little hard up in the sex department these days. Growing a business from an idea and a single line of code into a multi-million dollar enterprise is no small feat. It took years of dedication without a vacation day or weekend to be seen. Then, once he’d had a successful company on his hands, that had opened up a whole new world of headaches. He’d never intended for Yiling Cybersecurity to grow the way it had, and he certainly never intended to be a business owner with employees. Wei Wuxian would’ve been happy working out of his basement alone.
But the point is, Wei Wuxian is a busy man. And, despite Wen Qing’s near constant admonishments about “work-life balance” and even Jiang Yanli’s gentle concern, Wei Wuxian simply isn’t the sort to leave his work to other people. Or, to put it another way, in a voice that sounds a lot like Jiang Cheng’s, he’s shit at delegating. As a result, his love life is nonexistent, and except for his solo activities, Wei Wuxian hasn’t had a lot of release lately.
Which goes to explain why, when confronted with the up close vision of Lan Wangji’s shirt raising approximately 2 inches above the waistband of his shorts, exposing a band of very taut skin over what is surely the most impressive six pack Wei Wuxian has ever seen, his thoughts come to a screeching halt as the horny brain takes over.
Lick him, Wei Wuxian’s brain screams as Lan Wangji lowers himself slowly, that pulls himself back up again. Bite him. Pull down his pants and suck his cock.
“Do you need further demonstration?”
“Yes,” Wei Wuxian pants. Lan Wangji lifts an eyebrow at him, and Wei Wuxian mentally rolls up his tongue and kicks his jaw closed. “I mean…no. Uh. Do I have to use one arm?”
“You may use both. Do a set of five.”
In the end, he wishes he had three arms for the task. Years of sitting behind a keyboard with no concern for his physical health has, it turns out, taken more toll on his body than Wei Wuxian expected. He manages two pull-ups before his arms give out, unable to pull his chin over the bar.
“I’m all tapped out, gege,” Wei Wuxian complains in a dead hang. “I can’t manage anymore.”
“Hm.” That’s a different hum than usual. Wei Wuxian thinks that maybe he’s managed to get out of doing more, when all the sudden he feels Lan Wangji wrap his arms around his thighs from below. “I will assist you.”
Holy shit. Holy shit. Wei Wuxian glances back over his shoulder and sees Lan Wangji is kneeling behind him, supporting some of Wei Wuxian’s weight with his arms, his face mere inches from Wei Wuxian’s ass.
With the greatest effort yet, Wei Wuxian manages not to pop a boner as he pulls himself over the bar three more times with Lan Wangji’s assistance.
“I did it!” Wei Wuxian attempts to lift his arms in triumph as his feet find the ground again, but manages only to get them to about shoulder height.
“You did well.”
“Aw, gege, you flatter me. But if I did so well, why don’t you look happier for me?”
Wei Wuxian doesn’t think he’s imagining that Lan Wangji is frowning at him, although it is admittedly hard to tell. Lan Wangji steps forward and wraps a hand around the curve of Wei Ying’s side. “Your waist is very small.”
It is through perhaps divine intervention that Wei Wuxian manages to stop himself from whimpering at the rush of dopamine that floods his brain. “Thanks! A guy tries—”
Lan Wangji squeezes, cutting off his words. “Your obliques are insufficiently developed for a supportive brace. We will work on that.”
“Ah, right,” Wei Wuxian steps back out of Lan Wangji’s grip. “I have to—ah—bathroom.”
He beelines for the restroom, where he spends five minutes running cold water from the faucet over his head.
“How was everything?” Lan Xichen asks as Wei Wuxian approaches the front desk on wobbly legs.
“Good good,” Wei Wuxian answers. “I’d—uh—like to join the gym. Is there a deal for a personal training package?”
The next two months are the most challenging of Wei Wuxian’s life.
Truly, even the year he’d spent technically homeless and living off of a bucket of peanut butter he’d nicked from behind a bagel shop (dumped due to a broken seal, but he was willing to risk it) and whatever he could find in the discount aisle at the store hadn’t tried him as much as training with Lan Wangji.
It isn’t just the physical exertion. Or, it is. But not the lifting or the running or even the stretching. Wei Wuxian is used to pushing his body to the limit and working hard. The medals that are probably hanging out in a box in the Jiang’s attic somewhere are proof enough of that. You don’t take gold at states in the individual medley without hard work.
But the fact of the matter is that, while Wei Wuxian’s stats might be improving, he’s on a knife’s edge mentally and emotionally, and worse yet, he's worried his dick might fall off.
“Gross,” Nie Huaisang says, taking a sip of his drink as Jiang Cheng chokes on his beer and spits half back out again.
“I mean it!” Wei Wuxian drops his head to the table, resting his cheek on the sticky countertop in dismay. “There’s only so much jerking off one dick can take! The chafing—”
“Shut up shut up shut up,” Jiang Cheng chants, punctuating each word by smacking his hand against the table, causing the glasses to rattle. “I do not want to hear about you —doing that!”
“Doing what? Masturbating? A-Cheng, it’s perfectly natural—”
“No. Shut up right now or I’m leaving.”
Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes, but relents. Normally, he’d love to keep pushing at Jiang Cheng. It’s always fun to play ‘Match the Shade’ with Nie Huaisang, where they see if they can get Jiang Cheng’s face to match his shirt. But Wei Wuxian’s not up for it tonight.
“So I’ll admit that Wangji’s hot,” Nie Huaisang says, with the air of one moving the conversation along, despite this being very much the same topic (see: Wei Wuxian’s suffering). “But this is pretty worked up. Even for you.”
“What does that mean?”
“What he means,” Jiang Cheng interjects pointing at him accusingly. “Is that you’re always horny and repressed, but this is beyond the pale.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“Oh, A-Cheng isn’t repressed,” Nie Huaisang says. “He’s very expressed.” He waggles an eyebrow at Wei Wuxian. It seems Nie Huaisang may have been playing after all, as Jiang Cheng turns an alarming shade of purple.
“Wait—you two? Are you? Huaisang, what did you do to my didi?”
“I’m not your didi!” Jiang Cheng yells, at the same time Nie Huaisang says, “A lady never tells.”
Wei Wuxian spends the next several minutes clutching his sides as he laughs, which is enough to finally drive Jiang Cheng stomping away from the table, presumably to go traumatize some 20-somethings away from the pool table in the backroom.
“So,” Nie Huaisang says, rapping WeiWuxian’s knuckles lightly with his fan. “What’s Wangji been up to that’s got you so out of sorts.”
“Well. You know how he’s super hot right?”
“Your attraction is noted.”
“And there’s probably some, like, pheromones thing goin on, with all the working out.”
“Naturally.”
“But it’s…” Wei Wuxian takes a long pull of his beer. “It’s that, I can’t tell if he’s flirting with me.”
Nie Huaisang blinks at him over his cocktail. “Huh,” he says, swirling the little umbrella a few times. “I didn’t know that Wangji was the flirting-type.”
“And I don’t know that he is,” Wei Wuxian cries. “That’s the problem! I’m throwing everything I’ve got at him—and you know how I am. That’s a lot. But I can’t tell if it’s working! Like, just last week, he told me I had strong abductors. But that my adductors ‘needed work’.”
“Wei Ying. You know I don’t know what that means.”
“No, I didn’t either! So I asked him, and he said, ‘your adductors are used to close your legs.’”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, I know! Holy shit! But then, he just took me to a machine and made me actually work my adductors. Which, by the way, is a total bitch. I could barely sit the next day.”
“So it’s possible that he was just—”
“Training me. Yeah, exactly,” Wei Wuxian concludes darkly, finishing his beer.
“That is tricky,” Nie Huaisang says. “Has there been anything else?”
“He told me I had a good ‘range of motion’ and that with a little work I’d be able to reach a ‘full straddle’. Which sounded promising right up until we stretched my hamstrings to what I’m pretty sure was the edge of their breaking point.”
Nie Huaisang winces. “And it started off so well.”
“That’s what I’m saying! It’s painful! Is it gay when a guy compliments your glute-ham tie-in? More to the point, what the fuck is a glute-ham tie-in? It sounds like a gluten-free vegan’s worst meal.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s your ass. He’s saying he likes your ass.”
“I—Wait. Really?”
Nie Huaisang shrugs. “I remember it from Da-ge’s bodybuilding days.”
“But that’s the least sexy way to say ‘ass’ I’ve ever heard! Is it even supposed to be sexy?” Wei Wuxian wails, loud enough that a table of women nearby turn their heads, then look away quickly, giggling. “Sangsang, why does this have to be so confusing? Is this a generational thing? This has to be a generational thing. He’s too young for me.”
“He’s only 6 years younger than you.”
“That’s a generation!”
“Only if people are having kids in kindergarten.”
“It’ll never work. I can’t go on like this, Huaisang, these training sessions are killing me.”
“Wei Ying. Babes. Do you want my opinion?”
“Why do I have the feeling I’m going to get it anyway?”
“In my expert opinion as a person who actually has sex: you need to get laid. ”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do,” Wei Wuxian mutters darkly to his empty glass.
“Ah. Well, I don’t know what to tell you, Wei-ge.” Nie Huaisang drains his own drink and rises, glancing towards the back room. “Maybe you should set your sights on easier prey for now. Speaking of, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get dear A-Cheng to teach me to shoot pool.”
“What are you talking about? You’re a whiz at pool.”
Nie Huaisang winks at him bawdily, then hides his face behind his fan. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
It is another month before Wei Wuxian finally snaps.
“Lan Wangji, gege, isn’t this enough bench press? My arms are noodles. I can barely lift my water bottle.”
“One more set.”
Wei Wuxian groans, flopping back onto the bench, Lan Wangji moving into position behind him. Despite his complaining, bench press is secretly one of Wei Wuxian’s favorite exercises. Not that he particularly cares about upper body strength, but the view is hard to beat. He stares up, eyes fixed on the bulge in Lan Wangji’s shorts positioned directly in Wei Ying’s line of sight as he hovers to spot the bar. “I thought it was bad to skip leg day? Isn’t that a thing? Are you trying to turn me into one of those big arms, little legs guys? What about my peach, gege? All this arm work, how will I keep it juicy?”
“Wei Ying’s glutes are sufficiently well-developed. I do not see a problem.”
“Such flattery will get you everywhere, gege.”
“You are posterior chain dominant. Although, if you would like to add more variety to your routine, it would not be amiss to add in some back extensions to strengthen your erectors.”
“Ahaha, gege, come on now. Leave me a little face. I might be older than you, but I promise I don’t have any problem there.”
Lan Wangji merely looks down at him from above the bar, face blank. “What?”
Wei Wuxian blinks back. “What?”
“Your erector spinae are the muscles that support your spine.”
Wei Wuxian wraps his hands around the bar, wriggling into position and giving a nod to Lan Wangji to unrack it for him. “I knew that.”
This, it turns out, is the final straw. Three months of flirting has gotten him nowhere. Three months of increasingly brazen innuendo and touching has only made him hornier and even more distracted than usual, in a way that’s starting to affect his work. He’s descended to the level of making boner jokes, and Lan Wangji seems no more seduced than he was at their first meeting. This is it, Wei Wuxian decides. It’s time to give up. As he finishes the set out, he bids a bittersweet goodbye to his favorite view.
The problem with working out regularly for the last three months is, now that he’s gotten in the habit of it, Wei Wuxian finds that quitting cold turkey is harder than he thought it would be. No amount of lunchtime walks or fidgeting can make up for all the excess energy he feels coursing through his body. He’s irritable and on edge, and it’s when he manages to chew through his third pen, ink flooding his mouth, that Wen Qing intervenes.
“I don’t care if you go back to training or what,” she snaps as she grabs the now ink-covered pen out of his mouth, “but figure something out or I’m gonna tell A-Ning to revoke your VPN and building access.”
“Qing-jie! You wouldn’t!”
Wen Qing only glares at him, sharp as needles. “Watch me.”
Thus, Wei Ying finds himself with a problem to solve. He needs to work off some energy. The gym is the best place for it (his blood pressure is the best it’s been in years, and he has to admit he’s pretty pleased with some of the aesthetic changes from his healthier lifestyle as well). But on the other hand, he doesn’t want to risk running into Lan Wangji.
He ponders the question as he binge watches cooking shows into the wee hours of the morning, too restless to sleep, until he remembers that he paid for 24-hour gym access. God bless past-Wei Ying for getting suckered into the premium package, he could kiss his own gullible face.
Decided, Wei Ying throws his swimming trunks into his gym bag and slips off to the gym shortly before 4am, hopeful that he might still get some sleep before he has to be in his first meeting at 10am.
The gym is quiet when he arrives, though they’ve left the lights on, presumably for any fellow suckers who bought the 24-hour package. Wei Ying is grateful for a little peace, some time for self reflection.
He changes quickly, hurrying over to the pool. He’s been swimming a few times since he started coming here. Lan Wangji had encouraged him to do so as a supplement to their work together, stating that it was good to do a little light active recovery on off days, and that it would be good for muscle repair so long as he didn’t push himself too hard.
His first couple of laps in the pool are a pleasant return home. The pool always feels a bit like greeting an old friend. By lap ten, though, he begins to feel the effect of the last two weeks he’s spent without working out. The lack of sleep probably hasn’t helped either.
On the fifteenth lap, he begins to feel what he thinks is just lactic acid buildup in his right leg. Never a problem for him previously but, then, he hasn’t swum this much in years.
Midway through the twentieth lap, the pain strikes. It shoots through the back of his leg from the top of his thigh all the way down his calf. He cries out, the pain so sudden that he sinks beneath momentarily, getting a mouthful of water before surfacing again.
Shit, he thinks as he tows himself along the pool divider back to the edge, wincing all the way. This was a bad choice. What had he been thinking? The first rule of training was to ease into things. Not to jump into a pool after 15 years and try to swim a mile.
He makes it to the ladder, pulling himself up by the arms as pain continues to shoot up his right leg. A pair of strong hands reach down to help pull him up back onto land.
“What happened?”
It’s Lan Wangji. Of course it’s Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian moans, and it’s only partly because of the pain.
“Cramp, I think? I went too hard. Not my smartest move. Ah, shit.” He winces as a fresh stab of pain goes through him.
“Where does it hurt?” Lan Wangji actually looks concerned. That’s sweet, although not quite sweet enough to override Wei Wuxian’s embarrassment over the whole situation.
“Right leg,” he answers, gesturing at the offending limb. “Back of it, all the way down.”
“Turn over.”
Wei Wuxian rolls over onto his front automatically, too used to doing as Lan Wangji says to question it. It isn’t until Lan Wangji straddles him, his thighs clamped on either side of Wei Wuxian’s that Wei Wuxian thinks to question him, and by then it’s too late.
“What are—” is all he gets out before Lan Wangji takes his thumb and jams it hard into the side of Wei Wuxian’s ass.
“Fuck!” WeI Wuxian screams, thrashing, but unable to dislodge Lan Wangji.
“Referred pain from the medialis,” Lan Wangji says clinically, digging his thumb in deeper. “Too much sitting. Glutes are tight.”
“No shit!” It comes out as a squeak, which would be embarrassing if Wei Wuxian weren’t in blinding pain.
“I will need to loosen you before we proceed.”
Then Lan Wangji starts massaging his ass, and Wei Wuxian is too busy swallowing his own tongue to say anything. It’s like his horny fantasies of the last several months have all finally spilled out of his head into reality, and he’s a little scared that if he says anything that illusion will shatter. The massage itself hurts, but in a good way, and Wei Wuxian can’t help but writhe beneath Lan Wangji’s hands. It’s not sexual, he’s not trying to make it sexual, but he can’t help the little whimpers and moans that spill out of his mouth, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s getting hard. Mostly, though, he’s focused on the pain where Lan Wangji is twisting his thumb into him and the slow loosening of his muscles as the cramp in his leg subsides.
“Better?” Lan Wangji asks, his hands stilling at last. He sounds a little ragged, like he’s breathing hard. Wei Wuxian can relate. He feels like he’s just been dragged through a 20 mile obstacle course and lost all of his bones along the way. Well. All but one.
Suddenly, the erection that had been a mere afterthought throughout the massage becomes a much more pressing issue.
“Yep! Better!” he squeaks, aware that his swimming shorts are going to hide absolutely nothing. “Definitely all better. Thanks!”
Lan Wangji climbs off of him, but Wei Ying stays laying face down on the hard concrete, trying to think of anything to make his boner go away.
“Wei Ying?”
Unfortunately, Lan Wangji saying his name in that voice is absolutely not helping.
“I—uh—I’ve got it from here!” he tries, feeling a little desperate. “You go ahead!”
Lan Wangji doesn’t move though. Of course he doesn’t. “I cannot leave you here like this.”
“Sure you can, Lan Wangji! I’ve got it! I’m all better. Your hands are miracle workers after all. I’m just going to—uh—rest for a minute.”
“Can you walk?”
“I—ah, shit, Lan Wangji, can’t you leave a guy a little dignity?”
“Wei Ying?”
“I can’t get up on account of having a massive hard-on, okay? I was trying to spare you the visual.”
“...oh.”
“Yeah, oh. I—look. Don’t…don’t worry about it. Just. Fuck, give me a moment okay?”
Wei Wuxian hears Lan Wangji move, and for a moment he thinks that he’s finally leaving. That is, until Lan Wangji moves into Wei Wuxian’s field of vision and kneels right in front of him, so that Wei Wuxian can see that Lan Wangji is also hard.
“Oh,” Wei Wuxian says. “I take it back. Yours is way bigger.”
Wei Wuxian’s back slams into a locker, Lan Wangji’s hand cupping his ass, his tongue in Wei Wuxian’s mouth. Wei Wuxian ruts forward, moaning as he feels the hard line of Lan Wangji’s erection against his own, hot even through their shorts. Wei Wuxian’s swim trunks are wet and cold, hardly comfortable, and he’s just about to recommend that Lan Wangji should take them off, when Lan Wangji’s hands slip from his ass to the back of his thighs and lift him.
Wei Wuxian yelps, wrapping his arms and legs around Lan Wangji instinctively, clinging to him in a koala grip. “Lan Wangji!” he scolds, but Lan Wangji is too busy mauling his throat to pay much attention to him.
Whatever Wei Wuxian’s protest was going to be quickly flits out of his head as Lan Wangji’s mouth makes his way down to his nipple in a biting path. He hisses as pain cuts a warm, electric path from his nipple down to his dick, and he can feel the hot, sticky precum in his shorts.
Which reminds him.
Naked.
He should be it.
“Too many clothes,” he pants. “Want you naked. Want to be naked.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji hums, which Wei Ying takes to mean, excellent idea, Wei Ying, I am very impressed by your intelligence and mental acuity in this situation.
Wei Wuxian is, thus, a little distracted, and doesn’t entirely know how he goes from pressed up against one of the lockers to the shower until he’s already there. Lan Wangji sets him back down, the tile cold beneath his feet. It turns out Lan Wangji has good ideas of his own. It’s probably approaching 5am now, which means others will possibly arrive at the gym soon. The shower is a good idea, it’ll give them a little privacy.
Then, Lan Wangji reaches past Wei Wuxian and turns on the water.
“Ah!” Wei Wuxian shrieks as the cold water hits him in the back, a brutal shock. Lan Wangji hums, pressing his tongue into Wei Wuxian’s mouth again to stifle the noise and petting his flank in soothing strokes as the water warms. “What was that for?” Wei Wuxian gasps as Lan Wangji finally releases his mouth to breathe.
“Chlorine.”
“What about it? It’s clean! That’s the whole point of chlorine.”
Lan Wangji shakes his head, his hands caressing down Wei Wuxian’s waist to rest on the waistband of his shorts. “I do not like the taste.”
“The taste? Why would you—oh.”
Lan Wangji’s meaning is crystal clear as he drops to his knees and pulls Wei Wuxian’s swimming trunks down to his ankles. Wei Wuxian lifts his feet, helping to kick them off. He’s shivering with anticipation, as Lan Wangji leans forward, past his dick, and presses his mouth hot and wet against Wei Wuxian’s hip bone. Wei Wuxian can’t help himself. He reaches out, stroking a thumb over Lan Wangji’s cheekbone through a rivulet of water. Lan Wangji looks up at him, droplets clinging to his lashes, his eyes warm and dark and so adoring that Wei Wuxian feels the breath punched out of him.
“Lan Wangji—”
Lan Wangji grabs Wei Wuxian’s hips and spins him around. Wei Wuxian’s hands slam against the wall as he catches himself.
“What are you—?”
Lan Wangji takes a cheek in either hand, spreading them apart. “Lan Zhan,” he says, his hot breath brushing over Wei Wuxian’s hole.
“I—what?”
“Lan Zhan,” Lan Wangji repeats. “Call me Lan Zhan.”
“Lan Zhan, then! Lan Zhan, what are you—?”
“Tight,” Lan Zhan says as he presses a thumb against Wei Wuxian’s hole and Wei Wuxian involuntarily clenches. “Must loosen you up.”
Wei Wuxian hasn’t had sex in years, but the truth is that even before his dry spell, this hadn’t featured prominently in his sex life. Lan Zhan licks at his hole, teasing his tongue in and out at a maddening pace, sucking on the rim, moaning into him until Wei Wuxian is so mad with desire he thinks that maybe he’ll never come. He’ll stay right here, on the precipice of orgasm, Lan Zhan apparently happy to keep him shivering and wild, as his stomach twists tighter and together with lust until it nearly hurts, but never giving him what he needs to get there. The thought of it, the sensation of Lan Zhan’s tongue, of his hands digging bruises into Wei Wuxian’s thighs as he holds his legs open, makes Wei Wuxian sloppy with precum and tears even under the shower spray.
Suddenly, just as Wei Wuxian chokes back yet another needy sob, Lan Zhan reaches up and turns the shower off. Wei Wuxian thinks regretfully that maybe it’s over, maybe this was all Lan Zhan wanted from him, right until he hears the sound of plastic tearing and then feels a slick finger gliding over his hole. “What! When—?”
Further talking becomes impossible though, as Lan Zhan presses his long fingers into him. Wei Wuxian chokes as he swallows his yell. How many is that? Two? Three? He can’t tell, but Lan Zhan wastes no time, pistoning his fingers in and out. He adds another, and Wei Wuxian nearly collapses as he changes angles and drags against is prostate, sparks of pleasure bursting behind his eyes, the fire in his belly growing impossibly hotter. Lan Wangji stands, keeping his fingers inside him, rubbing them relentlessly back and forth. He drapes himself over Wei Wuxian’s back, one arm wrapping around his waist to hold him up. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice rough and velvety in Wei Wuxian’s ear.
He pulls his fingers out slowly and Wei Wuxian can’t help the whimper that escapes him at the emptiness. But Lan Wangji doesn’t make him wait long. He lines himself up, the hot head of his cock too big to possibly fit, and begins to slide in.
“Fuck,” Wei Wuxian moans as Lan Zhan fully seats himself inside, barely pausing before he starts to move. “Oh fuck, Lan Zhan!”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan moans, his hips snapping, his pace unforgiving, his grip bruising. Wei Wuxian’s whimpers only seem to spur him forward, with the same unrelenting drive he uses to push Wei Ying through the final reps of a set, when his muscles are burning, threatening to give out.
He gives Wei Wuxian exactly what he needs, regardless of whatever nonsense is spilling out of Wei Wuxian’s mouth. He’s only aware the he’s babbling, begging Lan Zhan to stop, to keep going, saying any number of contradictory ridiculous things as he teeters on the edge of orgasm, the pleasure so large and hot and imminent that he’s nearly sobbing, almost scared of what is to come, when Lan Zhan wraps a hand over his mouth, pushing two fingers inside and pressing down against his tongue. Wei Wuxian can feel the spit dripping down his chin, and his cock jumps, spurting precome, but it’s still not enough, not enough to take him over.
“Please,” he attempts to say, but the words are muddled around Lan Wangji’s fingers, and he finally gives up on speaking, wrapping his lips around the fingers instead and sucking.
Lan Zhan’s thrusts speed up. He drapes himself over Wei Wuxian’s back, the arm around Wei Wuxian’s middle tightening as he holds him in place to drive in harder and harder. “Wei Ying,” he gasps in Wei Ying’s ear, then takes it in his teeth, biting hard. The pain mixes with the building pleasure, indistinguishable from everything else that Lan Zhan is making Wei Wuxian feel. He takes his fingers from Wei Wuxian’s mouth and finally, finally wraps the spit slick hand around Wei Wuxian’s cock. “Stick with it,” he says, voice hoarse, exactly like he’s giving Wei Wuxian a command on the gym floor. “You can do it, Wei Ying.”
Wei Wuxian tries. He tries to hold back his orgasm, to stick with it a little longer, but Lan Zhan is cruel. The added sensation, the friction on his cock is too much already, he can feel his orgasm barreling towards him with unstoppable speed. Then Lan Zhan twists his hands tight over the head of Wei Ying’s cock and that’s it. It hits like a collision, the hot, tight ball of pleasure bursts inside of him, and he is screaming, voice echoing off the bathroom tiles as his whole body clenches. Wave after wave crashes over him as he comes, seeming to never end, until his knees give out, and Lan Zhan is holding him up as he continues to fuck into him, until he, too, is shuddering through his own orgasm. Wei Wuxian wishes they were face to face, so he can see it, but it is a liquid thought, slowly dripping away from him in the haze of orgasm. Next time, he thinks, and gives himself over to the afterglow.
Wei Wuxian loses track of time. The warm, soft feeling that wraps itself around him is deep and impenetrable. He luxuriates in it, in the rise and fall of Lan Zhan’s chest against his back. He wants to stay like this forever. He would be content to never move again.
But, of course, it can’t last. Sensation slowly comes back to him, and he’s aware that he’s very sticky. He’s also aware of the sound of a door opening and closing somewhere in the building. They’re no longer alone.
Lan Zhan slides out of him, running a soothing hand up his side as he whimpers. “Wei Ying. We need to clean up.”
He’s right. Wei Wuxian knows he’s right, but he can’t help the grumble of protest as Lan Zhan turns on the shower again. Lan Zhan gives him a look that Wei Wuxian thinks might be a smile, before stepping forward and wrapping him up in his arms and they make out lazily beneath the water.
They slip out of the shower some time later, as discreetly as possible, given the circumstances. Wei Wuxian thinks that maybe they haven’t entirely gotten away with it, based on the confused expression that changes to shock and then to horror on the face of the man who’s using the locker room when they slink out of the shower, but he can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it. The man quickly snatches his gym bag from a locker and hurries out, leaving Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian alone.
As he gets dressed, though, the fuzzy feeling in Wei Wuxian’s mind begins to clear. As it goes, his thoughts return, and he is somewhat unsurprised to find that they are spiraling. Was this a mistake? Does Lan Zhan think this was a mistake? What will happen if Wei Wuxian never gets fucked this good again? Does Wei Wuxian need to find a new gym?
He looks over at Lan Zhan, who is seated on the bench, lacing up his shoes. “Lan Zhan.,” he says, before his brain can stop him. “Did you…were you…?”
Of course Wei Wuxian’s brain is too fast for him though, and his words get tangled up. Lan Zhan looks up at him, and, when Wei Wuxian doesn’t continue, prompts him. “Was I?”
Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath. It’s just like plunging into a pool of cold water, he reasons with himself. You just have to hold your breath and go for it. “Have you been flirting with me?”
Lan Zhan blinks at him, which, for him, is nearly a comical expression of disbelief. “Was it not obvious?”
“Was it not—Lan Zhan! You were flirting with me?”
The look Lan Zhan gives him is downright painful. “Wei Ying.”
“Don’t you ‘Wei Ying’ me! It wasn’t obvious at all! Lan Zhan! I’ve been losing my mind over here trying to figure it out. You’re a terrible flirt.”
“Hm,” Lan Zhan hums, turning back to tying his shoes.
“Hm?” Wei Wuxian repeats. “What does ‘hm’ mean?”
“You were not complaining a moment ago.”
Wei Wuxian splutters. This man! “I…no. I definitely wasn’t complaining. But you didn’t make this easy, Lan Zhan!” He walks over to Lan Zhan and straddles him, plopping down on his lap. “I think you should take me home and make it up to me.”
Lan Zhan’s home is, thankfully, a quick drive from the gym. He calls his brother on the way, letting him know he will be unavailable for the day, and to give his apologies to his clients.
It is only after a few more rounds—first in Lan Zhan’s entryway, then in his bed, then in his shower—that Wei Wuxian finds himself fucked out enough to regain his senses and ask a very important question.
“Lan Zhan?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you have lube at the gym?”
He looks up at Lan Zhan from where he lays cuddled into his chest, watching with delight as Lan Zhan’s red ear gives him away even before he speaks. “It is good to be prepared.”
“And when did you start bringing it to the gym, huh, Lan Zhan?” he asks in a teasing singsong.
“...Wei Ying.”
“That’s what I thought. You know, Lan Zhan, if you were a little more forward we could’ve been doing this for months. We didn’t even need to bother with all the exercise and training! You could’ve been fucking me in the gym every day. Although, maybe it’s best we waited,” he laughs as he feels Lan Zhan’s dick give a very interested twitch against his thought. “I might not have had the stamina to survive. I might not now!”
Lan Zhan hums, rolling over on top of Wei Wuxian again and biting him on the neck. “We will have to train so Wei Ying can keep up.”