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you only ever touch me in the dark

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“You are going to let me fuck you, or I will hurt you.”

The large hand clamped over Wei Ying’s mouth does not relent. His voice is deep and smooth, dripping with cruel authority and intimidation. Wei Ying cannot reconcile the properness and eloquence of his tone with the brutality of his actions—the man clearly sounds intelligent, the man clearly comes from some sort of status and power. Because even when he’s threatening violence against him, his voice already sounds so handsome.

Wei Ying can hardly fight back. He is currently fully undressed and naked, having hopped into his bathroom after a long, hard day of work, not expecting that someone would already be waiting for him there. Wei Ying lives alone in this apartment; he couldn’t possibly have seen it coming. He’d innocently raised both arms up high, trying to let loose his high ponytail so as to get himself ready for his shower—when he felt two hands from behind so helpfully undo it for him.

He’d even uttered a soft ‘thank you’, before realising his mistake.

And then before he even registers what is happening, his two arms are forcefully, violently, pinned behind his back. He is slammed right against the bathroom wall, forced to look into the opposite direction of the mirror. He only manages to catch a brief glimpse of the intruder: overly tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular. And who could ever miss that haunting pair of golden eyes? Wei Ying thinks he has seen the very devil in the flesh, himself.

But he doesn’t get the privilege to immortalise the rest of the man’s features into his brain. The man will not let him. He keeps Wei Ying’s face firmly turned away from the mirror, keeps Wei Ying’s back lined up perfectly against his chest. Wei Ying struggles desperately in his hold, but his back only arches further up with every movement, moulding perfectly into the curve of the man’s embrace. It’s like they were meant to be. He tries to scream, but the hand over his mouth clamps down even tighter. Wei Ying’s heart is beating so hard, he can hear his own shaky breaths in the silence.

“Wei Ying, be good,” comes the intruder’s voice like a warning, breathing heavily, directly into Wei Ying’s ears. But of course he already knows Wei Ying’s name. This wasn’t just some random act of violence—it was targeted. “I like Wei Ying so much, it would pain me to hurt you. You can be so good for me, can’t you, sweetheart, hm? I know you can.”

He infantilises him with every word, speaking to him as if he were talking to a mere child. Wei Ying can hardly stand the humiliation, feeling his eyes burn with hot tears with every second that goes by. He must be older, Wei Ying thinks, as he distracts himself by gazing down at the protruding veins lining the man’s forearms, his grip bruisingly strong around Wei Ying. He seems older and much more experienced, with the gravelly calm manner in which he speaks, and the way he holds Wei Ying so carefully, almost lovingly, like Wei Ying is fragile porcelain that will break. Like he is being sincere when he says he cannot bear to hurt Wei Ying, because he truly cannot.

Wei Ying’s silence seems to appease the man, for he loosens his grasp a tad bit, giving Wei Ying the room to suck in deeper breaths.

“I like you so much, baobei,” comes the voice again, in such a deceivingly sweet and respectable tone. It’s starting to do things to Wei Ying, being continuously spoken to like that. Being coddled, being treated like precious cargo. Being loved like never before. How long has this man been watching him, and how deep do his affections run for him? Why does the idea of a handsome, older stranger going to such extreme lengths to possess him stir such faint arousal in the very pits of his belly? Does Wei Ying have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever?

“I want to be so nice to you. Would you like that? Will Wei Ying help me be nice to you?”

And what else can Wei Ying say to that? He wants to be taken care of, too. “Yes,” he chokes out, whispering right into the man’s calloused palms. He relinquishes all control to the man, collapsing in his arms. Wei Ying’s tired, he’s exhausted, and he’s still so, so scared. “Yes, please…”

Oh,” the intruder says, extremely delighted by what he hears. He slackens his grip on Wei Ying even further, now that he’s fully assured that the boy is finally listening to him. “You are perfect, Wei Ying. You are so perfect for me.”

Lips press tenderly against the side of Wei Ying’s neck, leaving a soft flutter of kisses down his bare skin. Wei Ying shivers with every kiss, melting right into the man’s touches. His thighs are uncontrollably shaking, and his knees are wobbling—have been, for the past fifteen minutes they’ve been here. The man bunches Wei Ying’s long hair up with a fist, pushing them to the front, delicately, gently, like he doesn’t want to risk breaking any of it in the process.

“So beautiful, you will make the perfect wife,” he continues to praise, sucking and biting on Wei Ying’s shoulder.

Wei Ying thinks about Yanli-jie and his baby nephew, A-Ling, and thinks he’s going to cry.

With his hands now free of their previous restraints, he makes a snap decision to fight. Within just a split second, he balls his right hand up into a tight fist, and throws a punch back as hard as he can into the direction of the intruder’s face. The man, caught off-guard, does not duck in time to avoid the hard collision against the side of his mouth. He does, however, minimise the impact as much as possible by seizing hold of Wei Ying’s—oh so tiny, oh so flimsy—wrist mid-air, before slamming Wei Ying back against the bathroom wall.

Wei Ying only manages to catch a fleeting glimpse of those handsome golden eyes—ignited with pure, raw anger, and nothing else—before being pinned down once more.

“Fuck, Wei Ying…!” comes the frustration, the cursing, the yelling. Wei Ying can hear him wiping blood from his chin, his rage emanating off of him. “Wei Ying, how so very disappointing.”

He’s going to hurt him. If he wasn’t before, then he will, now. But if force won’t cut it with him, then Wei Ying still has one trick up his sleeve.

“Please don’t take me, gege,” Wei Ying wills his eyes to well up with tears pitifully, making sure that his voice cracks at all of the necessary intervals. “I, I’m a virgin. I haven’t done this with anyone before. I’m just, I’m just scared.”

A beat of silence. And then, a newfound perversion. “I see,” the man says in response, heavily piqued with renewed interest. “Wei Ying is a virgin.”

Somehow, Wei Ying thinks he has just ensured his demise, instead of the opposite.

“I am,” Wei Ying begs, shaking his head. “Please.”

“Hm,” the man hums, making a snap decision.

He binds Wei Ying’s thin wrists together with his red ribbon, then bends Wei Ying right over, just so he can spread Wei Ying’s legs wide apart.

Wei Ying launches into a guttural sob, amping up the dramatics. His hands clutch onto the bathroom wall, and he asks softly, “What… What are you going to do to me?”

“Make sure that you are a virgin,” the intruder says, smugness in his tone. “Wei Ying is fond of telling lies. How am I to trust Wei Ying?’

“I, I’m not lying, gege—!”

“Then, I will have to inspect.”

The minute he grabs hold of those fat buttocks and pulls those thighs apart for a dutiful inspection, it’s over for Wei Ying. Slick dribbles non-stop out of Wei Ying’s pink, twitchy hole, one that he’d been trying to squeeze shut and keep tightly closed all this while, trying to suppress his arousal.

Trying to hide the fact that his hole is so clearly in need of a cock.

“Oh,” the man groans, when he sees this. “Oh, Wei Ying is already so wet for me.”

“I, I, I…” Wei Ying has no defence for this.

He’d become soaking wet the very minute those large hands clamped over his mouth. So maybe Wei Ying had a size kink. So what. He liked the feeling of being manhandled, of being forcefully taken, of being handled so roughly by someone so obviously bigger and older.

“Then, Wei Ying doesn’t need me to be nice to him at all, does he?”

“No, I—!”

“Wei Ying’s body is so much more honest. If I’d known Wei Ying was such a slut, I’d have broken in and had my way with you much earlier.”

“No, please, I don’t want—!”

“Look at your tight little virgin pussy, twitching so desperately for my cock.”

“Please, that’s not true—!”

The desire currently furling in Wei Ying’s belly is so ravenous it’s excruciating. Some sick part of Wei Ying enjoys this game of push-and-pull, of run-and-chase.

“I don’t want this, please,” he pleads, as the man’s long fingers dig into the fleshy mounds of his ass and pull him closer, gripping him so tight he’s sure to leave red imprints on Wei Ying’s milky skin. He can hear the man already rushing to unbuckle his pants, eager to get things started. “Please don’t, gege, I don’t want to be raped, please don’t rape me—”

But the man already understands the game he’s playing. The more Wei Ying talks, the more excitable he is. He lines his dick up right in between Wei Ying’s ass, pressing the humongous size of it all against Wei Ying’s soft, baby skin. He grabs his cock by the base, and slaps it repeatedly against the perfect curve of Wei Ying’s bubble butt, enjoying the way it bounces off Wei Ying’s taut, shiny skin.

His cock—it feels extremely massive. Wei Ying grows faint. He thinks he won’t be able to take it, especially with how much smaller he is. He thinks no human should be able to take it. He thinks the man will ruin him, for sure.

He wants it so much.

The intruder teasingly slides the head of his cock up and in between the pink folds of Wei Ying’s cunt, just enough for Wei Ying to get a good gauge of his impressive length and how much it dwarfs his hole in comparison—but not slipping in. The man’s large and erect cock is already glistening at the tip, seeping with pre-cum. Just the mere thought of how fat and juicy it would taste, enveloped within Wei Ying’s small mouth, sends the boy drooling. Wei Ying has to bite down on his fist, hoping his wanton moans won’t leave him. He’s being so obvious and needy, fuck.

“Look at you, dripping all over the floor,” the man groans, his palms squeezing, playing, and spreading Wei Ying’s plump ass over again and again and again, as if he cannot get enough. Slick continues to leak out of Wei Ying’s pussy with every forceful squeeze and push, pooling into a small, sticky puddle on the ground. Wei Ying is so embarrassed, his cheeks and ears are quickly flushing red. “Wei Ying, your body was made to be fucked.”

“No, please,” Wei Ying whispers, his nails scraping at the wall before him. He keeps his gaze lowered to the ground, too mortified to look anywhere else. But he thinks it’s a mistake, because as he watches droplets of the man’s own pre-cum drip onto the floor, joining his wet slick in the puddle, he finds himself going even dizzier with want. “Please, I don’t want this, I’m not a slut, I’m not a whore—!”

His shameless cries are punished with the swift thrust of the man’s cock, breaching the walls of Wei Ying’s tight, virgin cunt. Wei Ying’s shaky gasp is caught in his throat as he feels the man bury himself all the way inside in just one thrust, unrelentingly, mercilessly, not even pausing for a breather despite knowing that he is taking Wei Ying’s first time. The thick curve of his cock stretches Wei Ying’s cunt in ways he didn’t think possible before, poking uncomfortably at the top of his belly.

“Fuuck,” comes his voice, all harsh and coarse; utterly filthy and drowned in sweet, sweet pleasure. “Fuck, baobei, you really are a virgin, you feel so good, you’re clenching me so tight.”

He’s so huge, it burns inside of him, it has Wei Ying instinctively clenching his thighs back together like he thinks it’ll help the discomfort in his belly. But it only serves to pull the man’s cock even further in, it only helps his monster cock to hit pleasurable spots that are so deep within Wei Ying, Wei Ying was never able to reach them before even with the help of his life-sized dildos.

Oh,” Wei Ying moans, unable to help himself. He’s already seeing stars, and the man isn’t even properly fucking him yet. And God help him once that happens. Wei Ying can’t believe his luck.

“You must have saved yourself for me,” the man coos, as if echoing what Wei Ying is thinking, gently tucking Wei Ying’s hair behind his ear. “Saved your virgin hole for the biggest cock you could find.”

Wei Ying squeezes his eyes shut, stubbornly shaking his head. “That’s not—that’s not true—!”

The man grasps hold of his long hair once more, yanking Wei Ying’s head back with such force the boy’s body is beautifully arching into him. His other hand wraps around Wei Ying’s throat, applying just the right amount of pressure for Wei Ying to be safe—but also experience the sickening thrill of being choked. The amount of pleasure this plunges Wei Ying into is insane. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his body violently trembling.

The man lowers his lips to Wei Ying’s ear, and Wei Ying thinks he’s going to say something filthy again, for nothing good ever comes out of that man’s mouth, but instead he whispers a heartfelt, “I want you. I desire you, I am obsessed with you. Wei Ying, you cannot even comprehend how much.”

And Wei Ying only gets even more turned on, if that’s even possible at the rate slick is already spurting out of him.

With one hand pulling Wei Ying’s hair, and the other squeezing Wei Ying’s throat, the intruder fucks into him hard and fast, urgently and desperately. He goes balls deep each time; with every furious thrust, his balls slap loudly against Wei Ying’s fat ass and sloppy cunt. Wei Ying can feel the back folds of his pussy quickly growing sore at the frenzied, feverish manner in which the man is fucking him—and yet it’s so good he can’t bring himself to make him stop. He’s so embarrassingly wet, too, and perpetually leaking, with sweet juices gushing out of him each time the man plunges back in with another manic thrust.

Wei Ying is being fucked so violently it should hurt, and perhaps it does, but Wei Ying’s too overwhelmed by the pleasure flooding throughout him to even care. He doesn’t bother swallowing his moans down anymore, allowing his cries and whimpers to freely echo off the walls of his bathroom, making him even hornier when he hears just how vocal, just how much of a slut he’s being. The man doesn’t hold in his groans, too, exhaling loudly and cursing filthily each time he’s sliding his thick cock back inside of Wei Ying.

Fuck, Wei Ying…”

“Harder,” Wei Ying finds himself begging, even if the man’s fingers are already leaving red marks against his throat. “Ah, ah, harder, please, daddy…”

He doesn’t even know his name. He doesn’t even know what he looks like. He only knows a haunting pair of golden eyes—and muscular arms with delicious green veins. He only knows a massive fat cock, giving it to him good. He only knows the man is utterly insane.

Just like him. Just like Wei Ying.

“Daddy,” the man drawls out, repeating in pure disbelief. He grows even harder inside of the boy—if that’s even fucking possible anymore. “You… You drive me so crazy, Wei Ying.”

Ah, ah, I want to drive you crazy,” Wei Ying whines, not even caring anymore. So what if he’s acting like a fucking whore? If this man has been watching him long enough, then it’s nothing new to him. Wei Ying fucks himself religiously on his dildos every night before sleep, like it’s his bedtime routine. He can only imagine how many torturous nights he must have put the man through before the man finally broke and decided to do something about it. It’s not as if Wei Ying is truly the sweet, innocent angel he portrays to everyone else. No, he wants cock—god, he wants it all.

“Oh, baby, I want to look at you,” the man kisses down the side of his head, easing his grip on Wei Ying’s hair. “I want to look at your pretty face, want to watch you in the mirror as I fuck you.”

“Let me look at you,” Wei Ying says, too.

“No,” the man immediately counters, taking care to ensure that Wei Ying’s back is still facing towards him. He retrieves a spare, white cloth that he’d brought along in his pockets, and hastily loops it over the front of Wei Ying’s face, so that it covers his eyes and shrouds him in darkness. He ties it into a tight ribbon at the back, tugging at it once or twice to make sure it can’t come off that easily. “I am sorry, darling.”

“Are you ugly?”

“What?” The man returns, surprised. “No, I…”

He does not give a reason. He does not want to.

Wei Ying knows how to turn on his charms when needed. “Daddy, please.”

“Oh,” the man sucks in a long breath, trembling slightly at Wei Ying’s intentionally lewd tone. The boy is such a minx. “Wei Ying, you are truly asking for it.”

The man slips out of Wei Ying, and the sudden loss of his cock has Wei Ying feeling so painfully empty. He wriggles his butt all upset, thrusting his ass back up into position so the man will fuck him again. But the man doesn’t let Wei Ying wait for long. He simply manoeuvres Wei Ying into a new position so that they are now facing the bathroom mirror, where he can get a perfect view of them both.

And then he’s palming the dips in Wei Ying’s hips, hoisting Wei Ying back up into the air—rather easily, in fact, like Wei Ying weighs nothing, Wei Ying can only imagine how strong the man is—and positioning the boy’s wet cunt right above his throbbing cock. Like this, the man can also take a peek at Wei Ying’s tiny little cocklet, bruised red and poking out in between his thighs. The man must like what he’s seeing, for he doesn’t sink Wei Ying down on himself immediately. Instead, he takes his time to savour the sight right before him, of his large girth stretching the pink folds of Wei Ying’s pussy wide open, displayed in full view in the mirror.

All Wei Ying can feel is the head of the man’s cock sliding against the front of his sopping cunt, but not actually entering it. “Stop, stop teasing…!”

“You have such a pretty pussy,” the man praises, his golden eyes fixated on such an addictive sight. “When you become my wife, you will not be allowed to wear panties in our home.”

It’s the second time the man has alluded to taking Wei Ying as his wife now. Perhaps he is actually being serious about it. Wei Ying wonders how that’s going to happen, though, if the man doesn’t even want to let Wei Ying look at him.

He finally drops Wei Ying back down onto his cock, stuffing Wei Ying’s gaping hole once more. The breach is heavenly. Wei Ying is so naturally thin, that when his hole swallows him whole, the entire length of the man’s cock can be seen bulging across Wei Ying’s flat tummy. The man has never seen a more riveting thing. If he wished to, he thinks, he could truly break him.

Wei Ying holds onto the man’s biceps for support, gasping deliciously. With the blindfold on, all of his other senses are heightened, and it’s almost as if being fucked becomes even better.

All he can concentrate on is his cock, and being filled, and of the noisy slapping of his cock meeting his pussy, and of the man’s absolutely lethal voice whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Wei Ying, you are so cute, you are so lovely, you are everything that I dream of, I want you so much…

“I won’t wear any panties, I’ll be such a good wife, I’ll let you bend me over and fuck me as you please,” Wei Ying can only moan, drooling at the very thought. “I want to be so good for you, gege, I promise I’ll be your good little wife.”

Fuck if he’s ugly. Wei Ying doesn’t even care anymore. With a dick this good, Wei Ying doesn’t care about anything.

“Mn, I know you will be,” the man kisses Wei Ying’s cheek, continuing to bounce Wei Ying onto his cock. His one hand reaches forward to pinch at Wei Ying’s cute little nipples, already cold and rock hard in this freezing night air. “You’re such a slut, you’d spread your legs anytime I asked for it. You’ll satisfy me like a good, obedient wife. You won’t fight me like you did just now, will you?”

Wei Ying throws his head back against the man’s shoulder, enjoying the sensation of being played with so carelessly in his embrace. “Ah, ah, I won’t fight if gege is good to me, ah.”

“Good boy,” he kisses Wei Ying again, as he pounds untiringly into Wei Ying’s cunt. “My sweet Wei Ying. My beautiful Wei Ying. I love you so much.”

Wei Ying didn’t think a deranged declaration of love from a stalker would be what does it for him, but at this point, even he’s surprising himself.

Wei Ying frantically cums against the man’s cock, having simultaneous orgasms with both his cunt and cocklet, squirting in both directions—against the wall, onto the floor, against his own stomach—and making a huge mess out of himself.

Wei Ying sobs throughout his two orgasms, the intensity being twice as it usually is becoming way too much for him to take. It doesn’t help that the man continues to fuck him long after every drop of cum is squeezed out of Wei Ying either, urgently chasing his own orgasm inside of Wei Ying’s wildly pulsating pussy.

“Fuck, Wei Ying…!”

And then he’s gone. The man’s fingers dig firmly into Wei Ying’s hips, driving him back down so sweetly onto his cock and making sure Wei Ying remains in place as he spills fully inside of the boy.

Wei Ying feels his insides fill up with nothing but hot, white, torrents of cum.

And he… has never felt more complete.

“Ah…” the man hisses, as he gradually comes down from the high of his orgasm. Wei Ying thinks he will perhaps discard him now that he has no use of him, after all, can you really trust the sweet promises of a lust-addled man, but instead the man surprises him with a shower of fervent kisses.

“You will not escape me, you can never escape me,” he sighs, so devoutly, almost in worship and reverence. “I like Wei Ying, I like Wei Ying so much. I want you to love me back…”

But how can Wei Ying love a man back without even seeing his face?

“Let me see you,” Wei Ying asks again, not taking ‘no’ for an answer this time.

He reaches for his blindfold, hoping to pry it off his eyes.

But just as he gets it off his head, the man urgently clamps a white cloth over Wei Ying’s mouth, one that has been drenched in sweet-smelling liquid.

A couple of sniffs, and Wei Ying finds himself quickly succumbing to sleep.

The last thing he remembers seeing is that haunting pair of piercing golden eyes.

.

.

.

Wei Ying wakes up unharmed.

He is sore, yes, but he is unharmed. He had been bathed and powdered, dressed in a fresh set of clothes, and then neatly tucked into bed. Everything in his apartment is left untouched; everything is where it should be. The intruder had taken nothing of note from him, hadn’t stolen anything, not money, not jewellery. Wei Ying checked, twice over. The intruder hadn’t wanted anything of that sort from him, no.

The intruder had already gotten what he wanted: him.

Wei Ying almost thinks it’s a fever dream. But then the ache in his hips, and between his thighs, tells him otherwise. Just like he said, it had been his very first time. And boy had it been a rough session of fucking.

For better or for worse, Wei Ying doesn’t regret any second of it. He wouldn’t have wanted to lose his virginity in any other way.

He gets himself dressed for his first day of class, right after the summer break. He does so, being extremely conscious now that there must be cameras in this apartment, going by what the intruder had said to him the night before. He knows he’s being watched. He knows the man is obsessed with him. He doesn’t know when it started, he doesn’t know what the man’s end-goal is. He only knows that his heart flutters whenever he remembers the man’s oh so handsome voice, telling him so sweetly that Wei Ying is everything he dreams of, and more.

Wei Ying has never felt so wanted before. It’s flattering. It’s intoxicating. Wei Ying thinks he will be drunk off this man’s obsession with him—forever. He doesn’t care who it is, what he is.

There is nothing that Wei Ying craves for more, than to be wanted in this world.

Wei Ying wonders if he will return again.

(A part of him knows he will. A man like that, he will not be sated with just one encounter. He will come back for more and more and more, and take until Wei Ying has nothing left to give. He will stop at nothing—until Wei Ying becomes his.

The worst part? Wei Ying would like that. Wei Ying would like that, very much.)

Wei Ying is in high spirits this day, as he walks through the doors of his lecture hall.

“Good morning, Professor Lan,” the other students greet in tandem, as they pass by the teacher’s podium.

Wei Ying lifts his head out of curiosity, wondering if he’ll recognise the professor for this term, when he feels his heartbeat deaden in his chest.

Because he does recognise that pair of piercing, golden eyes.

And that busted lip, in the exact same spot he’d delivered the punch—just last night.

Wei Ying steals one last glance, just before those golden eyes realise that he’s staring, and then he’s hurrying up the steps to grab the furthest available seat from the podium.

He knows his presence has been noticed when he feels those eyes bore into his back, the intensity of his gaze the exact same as it had been just the evening before when he’d been in his bathroom, fucking him.

Like Wei Ying could ever mistake it. He could feel that gaze through a blindfold, for fuck’s sake. Wei Ying could never get it wrong.

And holy fuck is his home intruder drop-dead gorgeous. Wei Ying has no idea why he ever refused to let him look at his face. Because Wei Ying may be desperately averting his eyes away from the man right now, but even from his peripheral vision can he tell that the man is insanely hot, and extremely well-groomed for his age. He’s in his late-thirties, for sure; pushing forty, at most. But he’s dressed as proper and respectable as Wei Ying thought he’d be, looking every bit the handsome gentleman that he sounds like. His thick framed glasses do little to conceal the strikingness of his eyes, only accentuating the divine gold even further, and he keeps his sleeves rolled up, the exact way they had been last night, revealing nothing but pure vein and muscle in his arms.

And he won’t stop glancing into Wei Ying’s direction—now that he has spotted the boy.

Wei Ying decides to raise his gaze to meet those golden eyes once, and the professor is immediately turning away, fumbling with his papers.

I see, Wei Ying muses. You can break into my apartment and violate me, but you’re somehow still afraid of me.

Which does sort of explain it. Any other normal person would have simply walked up to Wei Ying and asked him out, instead of committing a senseless act of violence.

But his professor is not normal. No, he’s deranged.

It’s not like Wei Ying would like him, any otherwise.

His name is Lan Wangji. Wei Ying learns that when he introduces himself to the class, writing his name elegantly out onto the chalkboard. A couple of girls sitting in the row behind him gossip excitedly, telling each other that Professor Lan is part of the prestigious Gusu Lan family, that his dad is the country’s Finance Minister and his brother, the head of the Gusu Lan corporation. Professor Lan chose to go into academia instead, taking after his uncle who sits on the board of this university.

(Is that how he knows me, Wei Ying wonders. Is that how he found out where I live.)

Wei Ying learns that Professor Lan is a student favourite because he is so easy on the eyes.

Wei Ying learns that Professor Lan is one of the strictest lecturers in this department.

Wei Ying learns that Professor Lan has never married, or been seen with a partner.

Wei Ying learns a lot, thanks to the girls.

By the end of class, Wei Ying has learned more about Lan Wangji from the girls collectively than anything Lan Wangji has ever taught in class, although in Wei Ying’s defence, has not been much thus far due to it being the first, introductory lesson of the semester.

He takes his time to pack up his books on the table, only taking his leave once the rest of the students have filed out of the lecture hall.

It’s deliberate. He wants to see if Lan Wangji will try to speak to him.

(It’s not like he wants an apology, even if it’d be nice. He just wants to see Lan Wangji try.)

He shuffles past the podium where Lan Wangji is fixing his papers, walking extremely slowly by him on purpose.

And he waits and he waits, but Lan Wangji only takes a sharp intake of breath—and doesn’t say anything.

Huh, Wei Ying realises. He doesn’t know that I know.

Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, Wei Ying whips his head around, flashing Lan Wangji a spellbinding grin. “Goodbye, Lan-laoshi!”

It’s cute. It’s all so very cute. Wei Ying’s high ponytail swings behind him, painting the lovely image of a schoolboy who doesn’t know any better.

Lan Wangji stares at him wordlessly, completely transfixed, completely mesmerised.

The boy is way too pretty for his own good.

“Goodbye, W…” He’s not supposed to know his name. He’s not supposed to know Wei Ying’s name at this juncture. He stops himself before he gives himself away, and merely nods. “I will see you soon.”

How soon? Wei Ying wants to ask, but he knows it won’t be fun anymore if he does.

“See you soon, Lan-laoshi,” Wei Ying teases, laughing his way out of the lecture hall.

.

.

.

Wei Ying finally makes his way home after another long shift at work, stifling a big yawn as he does so.

He inserts his keys into his front door, only for the door to push right open—signalling to him that it has already been unlocked.

Oh, Wei Ying thinks, his lips spreading gleefully into a smile, once he realises who’s already home.

This soon.