Chapter Text
Wei Ying wiped his nose on his sleeve and fanned his face with his hands as the aria flooded the kitchen from the, now ancient, TV. “- ssjust so -.” He sobbed a breath in. “- so - beautiful.” He reached out for Sizhui’s hand as his body was wracked with his tears. He got a gentle squeeze back but he didn’t feel it reflected the magnitude of the moment. In terms of emotional volume.
“Daaad -.” Sizhui said. It started out almost under his breath, but it got louder at the end. Sizhui, who’d wanted a more grown up name when he first became a teenager, something different from the one he’d been born into and adopted with. It was his wish and Wei Ying understood completely, but a part of him would always be A-Yuan to Wei Ying.
Wei Ying gripped his hand tightly. If Sizhui hadn’t wanted him to do it he shouldn’t have given his hand up in the first place. He knew the score. “He might not - have - that many years left -.” Wei Ying managed to choke out, then shuddered under a fresh wave of sobs.
Sizhui turned to him, wincing. “Dad. He’s fifty-five. It’s one of his last performances. It’s not even his last performance. And it’s not like he’s dying .”
Wei Ying couldn’t prevent his eyes opening wide in incredulity as he turned back to his errant son. He flicked the mute button. “I don’t think you understand.” He said. Outraged. “He’s my husband . He’s my life . His singing brought us together.”
Wei Ying felt Sizhui squeeze his hand briefly, before he put it firmly down between them on the ratty little sofa. “He’s literally my father, dad.” He said. “You’re taking up all the - emotional - space.” He leaned back into the sofa, sighing loudly. “He’s really looking forward to his singing retirement, and you shouldn’t make it complicated for him.” Sizhui looked into his lap. “Anyway. It wasn’t his singing that brought you together. It was me.”
Wei Ying stared at him. Sizhui simply didn’t understand how he felt about all of this. How tied up in knots it all was. He didn’t even know how he felt about it.
“Urgh. Whatever.” Sizhui said. He pushed himself up and walked over to fill the kettle.
Wei Ying brushed his sleeve back and forth against his face, suddenly intrigued. He’d not known Sizhui to be quite so calm about being assertive before. He raised his eyebrow as his brain came into focus. He might not always make the best and well thought out decisions, he thought to himself, but he knew he was good at spotting an anomaly in behaviour, when it came to his son, and using it to make conclusions about his state of mind. Wei Ying looked at the schedule on the wall beside him, lovingly updated every month since he’d crashed into their lives fifteen years ago. What was coming up? Aha. One of their famous glitter hearts circled this weekend. Hmmm. He wondered.
Wei Ying blew his nose loudly a few times, getting rid of the last of the snot, biding his time until Sizhui came back to the sofa all unawares with the tea.
“I’m looking forward to meeting your friend Jingyi this weekend.” He said, as casually as he could, after Sizhui had sat down. He fanned his fingers and regarded his nails.
Sizhui walked right into his trap, the fool. “Urgh. Dad. Please don’t be like this with him. Please don’t.” He sighed desperately, but his back remained upright and straight as he sat, tense. Chip off the old Lan block. “Just - please behave yourself.” He looked down into his tea. “I knew this was terrible timing.” He muttered to himself.
Wei Ying pulled his knee up onto the sofa as he turned to look at Sizhui. He knew he would always crumble under his scrutiny. “There’s a reason you went to Baba to ask if Jingyi could stay for the weekend, wasn’t there?” He said, in his best detective denouement voice. “Why you made the arrangements with him - and not me -. I almost didn’t notice.”
Wei Ying could see Sizhui was fighting a squirm. His movements became all deliberate and careful, and he couldn’t look at him. Sort of everywhere and anywhere but. Sizhui tried to let out a casual laugh, but it came out a bit like a bark. It was game over. He never made loud noises normally.
“I’m right aren’t I?” Wei Ying said softly. “You knew if you talked to me about it I’d notice. I’d ask.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And you knew Baba wouldn’t.”
Sizhui’s shoulders slumped a little and he nodded helplessly.
“He’s - more than just a friend, isn’t he? A-Yuan?” Wei Ying spoke softly, but it was hard to suppress a tiny shudder of glee.
Sizhui glanced at him then spoke into his tea. “Dad. I just knew you were going to be all -.” He flapped a hand at him vaguely. “Like - this -. About it.”
Wei Ying felt affronted. He pulled his posture up a little. “Like what?” He asked, as gently as he could under the circumstances.
“Urgh. Excited.”
Wei Ying made himself look relaxed. “I am not. I am not excited.”
“You are . Stop it.”
Wei Ying blew out a sigh of frustration, quickly chased away by his joy. His boy. Happy with someone. A boyfriend. Who he was going to meet. “Fine. Actually I think it’s perfectly ordinary.” He said. “Boring in fact.” He leaned forward to pick up the remote to turn the volume back up. But not all the way. He didn’t want it to distract him. His mind was whirring. All the things he wanted to say and ask, and all the restrictions about what not might be helpful, or that might be overwhelming. As usual, the instinct to both protect and tease won the race, and completely ploughed through his exceedingly low threshold for inhibition.
“I trust you’re being careful.” He said to the television. He couldn’t resist a glance over at his beautiful son immediately flushing the shade of a ripe tomato. “You know you can talk to me or Baba anytime you need to.” He paused, a thought occurring to him. Who knew what Jingyi’s own family circumstances were, heaven knows they’d half-adopted a few of A-Yuan’s friends over the years. “You or Jingy- .”
“Dad.” Sizhui interrupted firmly. “Stop. No.” He put his face in his hands.
Wei Ying pushed himself back further into the couch grinning, suppressing a giggle. He couldn’t help that he was a wicked, wicked man and father.
Sizhui, who had apparently recovered himself, smoothed his hands down his front and leaned forwards to pick up his tea. “Actually. We’re waiting.”
Wei Ying almost choked on his tea. It took all his willpower not to turn and gawk at him. “Ye - ssvery, um. Sensible. Yes.” He told Sizhui. It took everything in his body and scream ‘for what ?’ Kids these days would never cease to surprise him.
Sizhui took a prim sip of his tea.
Just a little question, Wei Ying thought. That would be OK. Just a tiny little one. “Is there - um - is there, something in particular you’re holding off - um - for -?”
Sizhui put his tea down and turned to look at him. “We just don’t want to rush things. It’s only been a couple of months.” He pursed his lips, regarding his father. “Everyone always rushes things.” He said.
Wei Ying nodded, he hoped sagely. They did. People did always try to rush things.
Sizhui looked down. “I’m serious about him, dad.”
Wei Ying looked straight ahead at the TV. He reached out and put his hand over Sizhui’s, squeezed it firmly, swallowed down the tears threatening at his eyes and throat. Sizhui turned back to watch his father. When Wei Ying had composed himself he told him. “You’re a good boy.”
They watched in silence for a while.
“You’re going to tell Baba the gays won, aren’t you?” Sizhui said, still staring at the screen.
“Nonsense.” Wei Ying said.
“Dad. You know how I feel about labels.”
“Of course.” Wei Ying made himself sound super serious. “I hear and understand your point. It is valid.”
“Dad. You’re going to tell Baba the gays won and do your gay dance, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous Sizhui.” Wei Ying told him. The younger generation simply had no respect for their very dignified and grown up elders these days.
---
Wei Ying was almost asleep on the sofa when Lan Zhan got home. His eyelids drooped heavily as he heard the front door close, and it jolted him back into consciousness. He shifted. A familiar wave of pleasure flushed through him. Lan Zhan would come and find them as soon as he’d done all his just-got-home Lan Zhan - things -, and they’d all be together again. Sizhui looked absorbed in a subtitled french arthouse film he’d made Wei Ying watch (with the gays obviously, because the gays had won again and quite frankly they always would). Wei Ying was delighted he’d managed to get a bit more out of Sizhui about how he and Jingyi had met - a D and D club at university, the big nerd -, and how they’d danced around each other as good friends for the best part of three years. He was surprised they’d managed not to meet him before. He couldn’t wait to get Lan Zhan alone in the bedroom to spill all of the gossip.
He felt, rather than heard, Lan Zhan come into the room. When he looked around, he was leaning against the door frame, shaking his head at them gently. “The pair of you.” He admonished.
Sizhui glanced vaguely in his direction. “Hi Ba.” He said, softly, attention straight back to the film.
“What?” Wei Ying asked, pushing himself up so as not to distract Sizhui.
“We have so many comfortable rooms in the house. We have a beautiful, state of the art flat screen. Yet here you always are. In the kitchen snug I made for a tiny child.”
He unfolded his arms for Wei Ying to press himself against him, and tilt his chin up. Lan Zhan leaned down to give him a kiss.
“You sang beautifully.” Wei Ying told him, tears pricking the back of his eyes again. He wasn’t sure when that was going to stop.
Lan Zhan smiled softly at him. The merest hint of a smile but the warmth of a million stars. “All for you.” He said.
Wei Ying pushed himself off. “I’m going to bed.” He jerked his head towards the tiny sofa. “You sit with the boy for a bit.” He looked over his shoulder. “Night Sizhui.”
“Night.” Sizhui said vaguely, staring at the screen.
---
Feeling happy and sleepy, Wei Ying took a long shower. After a brisk wash, he spent the rest of the time opening himself up lazily, stroking himself slowly at intervals, and letting the pleasure build. He thought of Lan Zhan, masterful on stage, singing just for him. He towelled himself and put on a silk robe Lan Zhan had brought back from some travel or other, arranging himself decoratively on the bed.
He woke up with a loud snort he feared was part of a chain of snores, as Lan Zhan sat down heavily on the bed with an “oof”.
Wei Ying turned the other way briefly to politely wipe a snail trail of dribble that had escaped his lips. Then sat up, floofing out the trail of his robe in what he hoped was an enticing manner.
Lan Zhan shifted himself around on the bed to face him, and reached out. He held Wei Ying’s chin with his fingers and wiped away more dribble from his cheek with his thumb. “Sleeping beauty.” He said, laughing. “I’m glad you waited up for me.”
“At least I don’t grunt every time I have to sit down or stand up.” Wei Ying said, wounded.
Lan Zhan pulled away his hand. “I don’t - grunt .” He said, clearly horrified.
“You do.” Wei Ying had to double down now. Besides. He did . And he had done from around about his fiftieth. Wei Ying considered it to be diagnostic of a sixth decade. “Like this -.” And he demonstrated. It was possible he performatively exaggerated.
“I didn’t do that.” Lan Zhan protested. “Perhaps a delicate ‘oof’.” He said. “Not a grunt.” He frowned. “I definitely don’t grunt.”
“I insist that you do.” Wei Ying said. “Like this.” He got up and sat down heavily, but before he was able to finish his noise, Lan Zhan was pressing him hard into the bed as he shook with giggles.
“Fuck you.” Lan Zhan told him.
Wei Ying let him push him onto his front roughly. He felt cool air on his back and butt as Lan Zhan pulled the robe off him. He shivered as Lan Zhan kneeled over him. Anticipation creeping up the back of his thighs in waves. He buried his head into the pillow and braced. Lan Zhan gave him two hard, quick butt slaps, then a pause for him to let the heat hit and spread. Wei Ying savoured the difference in temperature between butt cheeks, adrenaline breaking nicely through his sleepiness, giving his cock a kick. Wei Ying pushed his backside up and out.
“Lan Zhan.” He said, voice low. “I need you to fuck me immediately.”
Never one to hold back, Lan Zhan grabbed Wei Ying by the hips, then moved one of his hands to massage his arsehole, behind his balls, a little roughly, precisely, an expert in Wei Ying.
When Lan Zhan pulled his hand away, Wei Ying felt the pain of absence suddenly, acutely. “Lan Zhan?” He said, quietly.
Wei Ying didn’t know if he’d heard him, but he heard Lan Zhan spit on his hand and roughly coat his penis, using his forefinger to smear Wei Ying’s hole briefly before he began to drive himself into him.
Wei Ying pushed his arse up to meet Lan Zhan’s hips as he sank into him, and moved his arm back to pull Lan Zhan’s hand to reach around to stroke his cock. He pushed his elbow back into the bed heavily, to prop himself up, press himself back against the onslaught, to increase the thudding pressure as Lan Zhan drove into him. He was slamming into him at pace, hitting the right spot over and over, as he jacked him off. Lan Zhan’s fist almost punched the bed with every pump. It was as much as Wei Ying could do to hold them up, mind blank with pleasure, at the exact rightness of it. When he came, he came hard, collapsing on the bed as Lan Zhan filled him with his release. They lay together, Lan Zhan squashing him with his body, sweaty, panting, shaking.
Wei Ying whimpered until Lan Zhan pushed himself up, with an ‘oof’ that was definitely grunt adjacent, which Wei Ying was totally going to throw in his face later, just not now in the afterglow. They showered together, business like, and got ready for bed in a well worn domestic rhythm, the ruts carved out over the years.
Wei Ying flopped down on the bed on his front, while Lan Zhan sat up neatly, in his glasses, reaching for his book, fingering the pages open.
“Oh.” Wei Ying said, rolling himself onto his side to look at Lan Zhan.
Lan Zhan looked up at him over his glasses, perched a little way down his nose, for reading purposes. “Oh?” He asked.
“You’re going to read, are you?”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan said.
Wei Ying propped himself up on his elbow. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to spin it out this long. That he’d managed to sit on his information . Like an ultra-restrained information sitting-on God. People said he was impulsive, well. Little did they know.
“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan said into his book. “You’re vibrating.”
Dammit. “Gnnnnnnrr.” Wei Ying said.
Lan Zhan sighed, neatly putting the bookmark back into his book, and putting it down carefully on his bedside table. He smoothed down the blanket and looked over at Wei Ying.
Wei Ying sat up, crossing his legs. “Jingyi is Sizhui’s boyfriend .” He chewed his knuckles. “His boyfriend , Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan rubbed his forehead. He took his glasses off, putting them down gently on his book. “What leads you to this conclusion, Wei Ying?”
“He told me. It’s been a couple of months, although they were friends through university. AND. They’re ‘waiting’ to have sex. AND. They met at a dungeons and dragons role play game club.” Wei Ying grinned maniacally. “Our son met his boyfriend playing D and D, Lan Zhan. We made a gay nerd .”
“You want to tell me that the gays won, don’t you, Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying grinned and nodded his head. “The gays always win in the end, Lan Zhan.” He said, joyously.
Lan Zhan sighed. “Speaking as a member of the community, that could be considered to be offensive, Wei Ying.”
“Oh you love it.” Wei Ying told him. “You love adoration. You made a career out of it.”
“I’m surprised you’re not doing your gay dance.”
Wei Ying squeezed his lips together and shook his head. “That would be offensive, Lan Zhan.”
Lan Zhan leaned towards him and kissed his forehead. “We must be supportive this weekend. I expect Sizhui will be very nervous.”
Wei Ying nodded, with his serious face.
“You are going to have to behave yourself, Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan said, in his warning voice.
Wei Ying opened his mouth, and let out a squeak of protest. “Sizhui said that too. What do you think I’m going to do?” He sucked his teeth. “It’s not like I’ve got form. We’ve never been allowed to meet anyone before.”
Lan Zhan leaned over to turn off his bedside lamp. He plumped his pillow and lay on his side to face Wei Ying. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think there has been anyone before. I think A-Yuan would have told us.”
“Yes.” Wei Ying said, slipping under the covers, and lying to face Lan Zhan. “I think you’re right.”
They looked at each other for a little while. Wei Ying guessed that Lan Zhan’s head was as full as his was. The joy that had filled his soul earlier, bubbling around waiting for him to release it at Lan Zhan, was slowly being replaced by a more complicated mix of emotions. Wei Ying didn’t even really know what they all were. “Our little boy.” He whispered.
“I know.” Lan Zhan said.
Wei Ying shifted his gaze, to look a little past Lan Zhan’s head. Some things were too intense to talk about with eye contact. “I should say your little boy, really.”
He saw Lan Zhan frown clearly in the corner of the eye. “He’s always been both of ours, Wei Ying.” He thought Lan Zhan sounded cross. “It was only a matter of months before you came into our lives.”
“Important months.” Wei Ying swallowed against a lump in his throat. “Formative months.” He coughed. “I left you.”
Lan Zhan reached out under the covers. He found one of Wei Yings hands by feel, squeezed it, hard, until Wei Ying looked at him again. “Where is this coming from?”
Wei Ying was suddenly completely overwhelmed by tears. They slipped, hot and fast out of his eyes, trailed down through his nose in salty tracks to his lips. He gasped for air.
“What’s going on?” Lan Zhan asked, concern all over his features. He moved his hand away from Wei Ying’s to grip him by the shoulders, pulling him close to him firmly, holding him tight. “Wei Ying?” He rubbed his back, wiped his eyes. “Sizhui knows you fell in love with both of us.”
Wei Ying buried his head into Lan Zhan’s chest. “I don’t think it’s even that.” He hiccoughed. “Tonight - with you stopping singing - I don’t know -.” He breathed in fast. “I feel like things are ending and I don’t know why.”
Lan Zhan squeezed him tighter. “You don’t have to know why, Wei Ying.” He rubbed his back as Wei Ying sobbed into his chest. It was lucky he didn’t have to know why, because he didn’t have a fucking clue. “It’s your ‘ending’ feeling.” Lan Zhan soothed him. “It doesn’t usually mean things are ending. Wei Ying.”
Eventually, he felt Lan Zhan lean over him, reaching out to switch of his bedside light, then holding him close again, and eventually he supposed, he must have fallen asleep.