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Wei Ying wakes to a world blanketed in the glittering white of new-fallen snow. Or, more appropriately, it is A-Yuan who wakes Wei Ying to a world blanketed in the glittering white of new-fallen snow.
“Xian-gege, wake up, wake up!”
Wei Ying lifts his head from the pillow, squinting blearily into the light.
“Whuh?” he mumbles nonsensically, voice almost entirely muffled by the sheets swaddled around him.
He feels a gentle but persistent tugging at his sleeve where his arm is cast outside the cozy cocoon of his blankets. Still sluggish with sleep, his mind processes the cold air and he shivers, pulling his exposed limb back into the warmth. More insistent hands press against his side.
“Xian-gegeeee,” A-Yuan whines. “It snowed! Come see!”
Wei Ying peeks his eyes open again groggily. A-Yuan is standing at eye level, excitement clear on his little face.
“Okay, okay,” he yawns, dragging himself upright. He keeps the blanket wrapped around him as protection, but frees one hand to hold A-Yuan’s as he lets himself be guided to the living room. At the window, A-Yuan stands close enough that his breath fogs against the glass. He stares out at the winter wonderland before him in awe.
Looking out, it is probably the most snow they’ve gotten in years-and certainly more than A-Yuan has ever seen in his short life. The cars parked on their street are nearly invisible, and each of the trash cans lined up on the corner look as if they have been outfitted with sparkling white top-hats.
“Xian-gege, can we go play outside?”
Wei Ying yawns again and rubs his eyes.
“Maybe in a bit, A-Yuan. They haven’t even cleared the streets yet. The snow might swallow you up!” A-Yuan turns to him with wide eyes, and Wei Ying nods solemnly. “Plus Xian-gege needs some coffee first. You might have the day off from school, but not all of us are so lucky. Did you eat already?”
“Mn,” A-Yuan responds vaguely, quick to return his gaze to the snow outside.
Wei Ying smiles down at the boy, ruffling his hair as he pads into the kitchen. Still enrobed in blankets, he pours a cup of coffee from the already brewed pot. He hums into the first sip, relishing the slide of it into his stomach as it begins to do its work warming him from the inside out.
“Xian-gege’s gonna do some work in his office, okay?” He waits for a noise of affirmation. “Let me know if you need anything. And don’t spend too long watching tv!” he calls, going off to ruin his own eyes staring at a screen for the next few hours.
Wei Ying spares one last glance at A-Yuan, and the dull tang of regret rises in him. He wishes he could afford a better place-one with a backyard so A-Yuan wouldn’t have to stay cooped up whenever Wei Ying was busy with work and had no one to watch him. At least then he could get some sunshine. He swallows down a wince with another mouthful of coffee and goes back to his bedroom.
With their snug, little apartment, Wei Ying’s office and his bedroom are one and the same. It isn’t so different from when he lived in the studio, he tells himself. And everything he needs is always in reach. It is better this way.
When Wei Ying had first taken A-Yuan in, he knew the studio was not going to work to raise a child-at least not a happy, decently well-adjusted one. He had scraped and saved, eating instant noodles for each of his own meals, and stopped going out (not that it was much of a choice when he had a tiny human being who was completely reliant on him for everything), until he could just barely afford this place. Here A-Yuan has his own room, and even though half of the living room is basically just the kitchen, it is all theirs. That’s what matters. For now at least.
Wei Ying trades his comforter for a thick-knit cardigan that falls past his fingers. He settles down into the flimsy chair at his equally flimsy desk to check his emails. There is an alert from the operations team indicating that the office is closed, but since Wei Ying works from home most days, the message means nothing to him. A little bitterly, he wishes that adults got to have snow days too.
Heaving a deep sigh, Wei Ying rakes his fingers through his sleep-tangled hair and reluctantly opens up his current project. Sometimes he gets more interesting proposals, but this client just wants a boring dashboard to show off their boring KPIs or whatever. It’s not challenging, but the mediocrity of it tests Wei Ying’s focus. He plods along at coding the UI graphics, trying to find a way to balance all of the awful colors sent over in the company’s branding package in a way that won’t spontaneously induce headaches in its user base.
When he feels the pinprick pain of an ocular migraine coming, Wei Ying pivots to one of his personal projects. The benefit of consulting on these impossibly soulless jobs is that it often gives him access to an absurd amount of proprietary data that would otherwise never see the light of day. He doesn’t do anything untoward, and nothing that would put him in breach of his contract-perhaps something a younger, more reckless, and child-free Wei Ying would have done-but instead just pokes around to find patterns and trends that he knows the clients aren’t always paying attention to. If he can manage it, he uses what he finds to create dummy datasets to include in the final demo for the clients.
This time, he is coaxing out all the ways that the firm is losing money by avoiding markets they consider “undesirable”. It probably just boils down to the racist, classist traditions of operating in a capitalist system, but Wei Ying still finds some joy in knowing that someone will see this data and possibly even decide to do something of value with it.
His skills are really wasted on software development. But it’s stable and reliable work, not inherently immoral, and it keeps food on the table and a roof over A-Yuan’s head. Maybe someday he will have the freedom to do something more worthwhile.
Now there’s a wild idea, Wei Ying thinks with a wry smile.
Around noon, A-Yuan comes wandering into Wei Ying’s room.
“Xian-gege, can we have grilled cheese for lunch?”
A-Yuan is a good little boy who actually listens to his body’s internal demands-unlike some people-so Wei Ying is also forced to adhere to a reasonable eating schedule as a result.
“We sure can, kiddo! Just give me a couple minutes to finish up.”
A-Yuan lights up and his eyes turn hopeful.
“And after that, can we go play? I saw Yeye come by and shovel. I waved at him, but I don’t know if he could see me from the window.”
“Maybe later. Xian-gege still has a bunch of work to do.”
Wei Ying puts on an exaggerated pout to show how much he thinks of his adult responsibilities. A-Yuan gives a tiny, wavering smile, but his shoulders droop as he walks back to the living room. As Wei Ying works to get to a stopping point, periodically he can hear great, heaving sighs expelled from little lungs, each one driving a wedge further into his heart until it threatens to cleave in two.
Fuck it.
He fires off a quick email and logs out, not waiting to hear a response back. He walks into the kitchen and begins to pull out the things for grilled cheeses. Sliced cheddar and butter from the fridge. Half a loaf of slightly stale sourdough from the breadbox. A tomato from the produce basket.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see A-Yuan flopped on his beanbag chair. His limbs are splayed out loosely in defeat, but his eyes never stray from the window. Wei Ying’s heart gives a little clench.
“Guess what A-Yuan?” Wei Ying singsongs as he tops up his mug with fresh-ish coffee. Morosely, A-Yuan turns his head over towards the kitchen, not even bothering to pick up his head.
“My boss decided I get to have a snow day too,” Wei Ying whispers loudly across the room, giving an accompanying conspiratory wink.
Immediately A-Yuan gasps and wiggles out of the beanbag. He runs over to Wei Ying with as much haste as his little legs can manage.
“Really?” he breathes up at Wei Ying, gripping at his pants leg.
Not really, Wei Ying grimaces internally, determinedly not thinking about the work he has just pushed off until tomorrow. There won’t be any escaping it forever, but at least he can let A-Yuan have a bit of fun today.
“Yep! But we have to eat first,” he says seriously. “Can’t go braving the snow without proper sustenance, can we?” A-Yuan shakes his head. “Good boy. Now, how about you pick the best slices of bread to use for our grilled cheeses.”
Ever-eager to help, A-Yuan takes the bag from Wei Ying’s hands. While he is rifling around, Wei Ying slices up the tomato. He holds out a waiting hand as A-Yuan studiously selects the perfect pieces.
One grilled cheese for each of them later, A-Yuan is practically vibrating in his seat. He knows better than to rush Wei Ying, but his squirming body betrays his simmering impatience. Wei Ying downs the last dregs of his coffee and then offers A-Yuan his much-needed release.
“Alright, alright. Go on and get your coat. We’ve got precious few hours of daylight left!”
A–Yuan barely waits for him to finish talking before he is shoving himself from the chair and rushing towards the front hall. Wei Ying clears their dishes into the sink and darts back into his room to change into a pair of jeans. By the time he makes his way to the door, A-Yuan already has on his huge red puffer coat, looking like a fluffy, scarlet-robed marshmallow. His hat is askew and his mittens are on the wrong hands.
Squatting down with a bemused chuckle, Wei Ying fixes them, giving A-Yuan an affectionate pat on the head. He grabs A-Yuan’s scarf from the coat rack and winds it around his neck until he is little more than a pair of eyes peering out from the layers of wool.
“Xian-gege, your turn!” he cries.
Wei Ying dutifully shrugs on his bomber, tugs a beanie on and stuffs a pair of gloves into his coat pockets.
“Ready to go out and face the elements?” Wei Ying asks.
A-Yuan nods firmly, and then gives a little gasp. He waddles away and Wei Ying can hear the swishing of his coat as he rustles around out of sight. When he returns, he is holding something fluffy to his chest.
“Baobao wants to come too!”
Wei Ying looks at the ratty stuffed bunny clutched in A-Yuan’s mittened hands, and his heart gives a little stutter. It was the first thing Wei Ying had given A-Yuan when he had taken him in, the first thing just for him in Wei Ying’s apartment while he scrounged together enough to buy new clothes and a proper bed. Amongst the small mountain of toys and books that would eventually follow, it was this silly little plushie that A-Yuan loved the most.
“Okay, but you have to take extra good care of him. We don’t want him getting lost in the snow, now do we?”
A-Yuan considers this for a moment, and then unzips the very top of his coat, fumbling a little through his mittens. With all the care in the world, he nestles the bunny inside, then zips back up just enough that the top of its head peeks out.
“Ready!” he declares.
When they step outside, the sidewalks are indeed mostly cleared. Wei Ying offers his hand for A-Yuan to take, which he does, though he is fully enraptured by the snow. Piled up around them, it looms taller than A-Yuan’s miniature frame.
Wei Ying thinks wistfully of the winters he can remember from his childhood. Snow was mostly a novelty in the south, so he never got to experience more than a good dusting growing up. But there was always something he found magical about the snow-how even the littlest bit had the power to transform the world. Even now as an adult, there is still some magic in it. The sun always seems to shine brighter after a storm, turning everything a blinding, crystalline white. People on the street seem to smile more, to themselves and to one other, and the day feels awash in hope and possibility, the crisp air bringing a sharp sort of clarity that puts everything in perspective.
“Xian-gege!” A-Yuan’s excited chirp breaks Wei Ying from his reverie. “Can we make one of those?”
Wei Ying turns to look in the direction of A-Yuan’s extended hand and sees a group of teenagers constructing a particularly impressive snowman in their front yard.
“Why of course! I bet the park will have lots of snow we can use. You remember the way, right?”
A-Yuan tugs Wei Ying along in the direction of the park. When they arrive, it is clear that they are not the only ones with this idea. Snowmen of all shapes and sizes-some faceless, others with full carrot noses and generously donated scarves-dot the park as clear vestiges of earlier wintry merriment.
There is a slight hill in the center of the park and a smattering of children are using it for sledding. Their joyful shrieks echo through the space, and A-Yuan looks on at them in wonder. Wei Ying sees a couple, hand in gloved hand, looking at their laughing, snow-dusted child with loving smiles on their faces. Wei Ying feels guilt seize at his chest. He can’t afford to give A-Yuan the same nice things. He can’t even give him two proper parents like he deserves. It’s just the two of them, and their too small apartment and-
Wei Ying stops himself before that train of thought can go entirely off the rails, and bumps the hand that still clasps A-Yuan’s against his shoulder.
“Hey A-Yuan, wanna make a snowman?”
A-Yuan’s face instantly morphs into an ecstatic smile, and it drives away most of Wei Ying’s feelings of inadequacy. And maybe, he thinks, if he shops around at the end of the season, he can find a sled on sale for A-Yuan to have next winter.
He nudges A-Yuan off in search of a clear patch of snow away from other nearby constructions to make a snowman of their own.
“Here, here, Xian-gege! Over here!”
Wei Ying jogs over, carefully steadying himself as he slips a little on some ice. He surveys the area, putting his hands on his hips.
“Yes, I think this will do quite nicely. How should we start, do you think? With the head?”
“No!” A-Yuan shrieks, laughingly. “Xian-gege you have to start at the bottom! It won’t work otherwise.”
Wei Ying taps at his nose thoughtfully.
“Hm. You make a very good point. Okay, bottom it is! Do you want to get us started?”
A-Yuan plops down on his knees and thrusts his hands into the snow. His tongue pokes out of his mouth as he focuses on packing together a fist-sized ball of snow. When he finishes, he holds it out triumphantly.
“Excellent work, A-Yuan,” Wei Ying praises him and then claps his hands decisively. “Now it’s time to roll!”
Together they work to push the snowball across their little section of the park until it is big enough to reach A-Yuan’s chin.
“What do you think? Is this a good size?”
“Mn,” A-Yuan nods, his cheeks pink from a combination of the chill and his own exhilaration.
“I think so too. Now let’s work on the middle.”
They make the other two sections of the snowman, Wei Ying being extra careful as he lifts them up to position them perfectly atop the base. With the head finally on, they take a step back to look upon their creation. Wei Ying rests his chin thoughtfully in his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees A-Yuan do the same.
“It feels like he’s missing something. What do you think, A-Yuan?”
A-Yuan furrows his brow in deep thought. Then his face lights up.
“Arms! He needs arms, Xian-gege!”
“Too right. How could I have forgotten!” He smacks his forehead. “Go check by that tree. I’ll go look by this one. And don’t get too close to the road!” he calls.
Wei Ying knows he doesn’t really need to worry about A-Yuan. He is such a good boy that Wei Ying often considers it a blessing he hasn’t really earned as a parent. Even when A-Yuan was younger, he never had meltdowns and hardly ever cried. To be honest, Wei Ying had been more worried about the silence early on than the lack of it. He would wake up constantly in the night, panicked about the quiet, only to be met by A-Yuan’s peacefully sleeping face each time he went in to check on him.
It took time, but once A-Yuan got acclimated, he did slowly begin to open up and talk more. He is still frightfully well-behaved, and not particularly inclined to trouble-making like Wei Ying was at his age, but it doesn’t concern him the way it used to. Still, he tries to keep an eye on A-Yuan’s foraging while he does his own.
“A-Yuan,” he shouts after a couple minutes of searching, and the boy’s head pops up. “Did you find some good ones?”
A-Yuan holds up his fistful of sticks and shakes them enthusiastically in the affirmative.
“Excellent job! Okay, let’s go-ah!”
Taking a hurried, ill-placed step onto a patch of ice, Wei Ying abruptly loses his balance, feet sliding out from under him. He feels his stomach lurch up into his throat as he pitches backwards towards the ground. He braces himself for an impact that never comes.
Instead of the icy thunk of his skull smacking the ground, Wei Ying feels the solid press of arms holding him up. Whoever has caught him feels shockingly sturdy and smells intoxicatingly of sandalwood. Or maybe Wei Ying did hit his head, and he is just imagining things that aren’t real. It takes him a solid few seconds for his brain to catch up.
“Ah,” he laughs self deprecatingly. “Thank you, I’m so-”
He draws his eyes up to meet his kind savior, and the rest of his words shrivel up in his mouth.
Oh, he's hot.
Wei Ying stares open-mouthed at the absolutely gorgeous man who has his arms wrapped around him. His face is as if chiseled from stone-more Greek god than human. His eyes are even brighter than the gleaming snow around them, and there is the slightest of creases between his eyebrows that Wei Ying wants to smooth away with his thumb. The breath comes from his lips in a visible puff as it meets the freezing air. Even his lips look perfect. The fringe on his baby-blue scarf tickles against Wei Ying’s cheek, and he continues to stare dumbly up at the man.
“Xian-gege!”
A-Yuan’s cry jolts Wei Ying back, and he manages to right himself to stand with minimal help while-hopefully-retaining some of his dignity. He brushes himself off, more out of something to give his hands to do than any real need. A-Yuan comes bounding up to him, the sheer panic palpable in his eyes.
“Hey, hey,” Wei Ying coos soothingly. “Look, A-Yuan. I’m okay, I promise!”
He does a little dance that causes nervous giggles to erupt from the boy, and Wei Ying relaxes as the terror on A-Yuan’s face recedes a little, though it looks as though tears still threaten to fall at any moment.
“Nothing’s ever gonna happen to your Xian-gege, you know that, right?”
“Mn.”
“Good boy.” He taps a finger against A-Yuan’s nose. “Do you want to go home?”
A-Yuan puffs up in indignation.
“We have to finish the snowman!”
“And finish him we shall!” Wei Ying declares grandly. He reaches out to pinch A-Yuan’s cheek. A-Yuan pouts back, and then peers cautiously around Wei Ying.
“Xian-gege?” he asks, voice wavering.
“Mn?” Wei Ying responds.
“You said pretty-gege was hot. But how can he be hot when it's so cold out? Is he sick?”
Wei Ying scrunches up his face in confusion. Pretty-gege? Hot?
Oh no.
When he turns back to look, the man is still there. His face appears just as stoic with that hint of concern, but there is a distinct tinge of pink at his ears that Wei Ying doesn't think is from the chill.
“Ah-ahh,” Wei Ying rubs at his nose. “Um, I mean-”
“Did pretty-gege save Xian-gege?” A-Yuan asks.
“You shouldn’t interrupt people when they’re speaking, A-Yuan,” Wei Ying chides, though he is grateful for anything to put an end to his awkward fumbling. “But yes, he did, and it was very nice of him. I was just about to thank him properly. I’m sure he has a real name though, and doesn’t need you calling him pretty-gege.”
Not that Wei Ying minds calling the man pretty-gege. But he does have a little bit of shame.
The man gives Wei Ying a long look, his light eyes piercing Wei Ying’s until he almost wants to look away. But then he is kneeling down, uncaring of the wet ground, to look A-Yuan in the eyes.
“My name is Lan Zhan. Your Xian-gege said your name is A-Yuan?”
Wei Ying feels a thrill at the way this man, Lan Zhan, calls him gege in his smooth baritone. A-Yuan gives a small bob of his head, tucking his face into his bunny.
“I like your rabbit. Does it have a name?” Lan Zhan asks softly.
“Baobao,” A-Yuan sniffles. “Xian-gege got it for me when I came to live with him.”
“That was very nice of him,” he hums.
“Mn”, A-Yuan says as he hugs the plushie closer to him. A-Yuan often slides back into his shell around strangers, but Wei Ying can tell that he is curious about Lan Zhan. Wei Ying feels very much the same.
“I have two pet rabbits at home,” Lan Zhan speaks haltingly, as if unsure. “Would you like to see a picture of them?”
A-Yuan’s eyes go wide as saucers, and he nods fervently.
“Xian-gege said we can’t have pets because the landlord is a-” he looks up at Wei Ying, his face pinched as he tries to think of the word. “Dick potato?”
Lan Zhan blinks at A-Yuan and then turns his head towards Wei Ying. His face is smooth as glass, but Wei Ying senses the judgment rising in him and he rushes to explain.
“Dictator. I said he was a dictator, A-Yuan,” he huffs.
A-Yuan makes an ahh-ing sound, completely unconcerned about the verbal mishap. Lan Zhan keeps on scrutinizing Wei Ying for another agonizing moment before turning around to face A-Yuan again. He takes his phone from the pocket of his coat, and his long, lithe fingers dance across the screen as he pulls up a photo. Wei Ying peers down, and his brain short-circuits for a couple seconds.
Naturally, even Lan Zhan’s pets are adorable. There are two rabbits-one black and one white. There is a hand in frame, presumably Lan Zhan’s, and the black one is nuzzled against the pads of his fingers. A-Yuan squeals in delight.
“What are your bunnies’ names?”
“Jiaozi and Boba,” Lan Zhan replies, and Wei Ying can see the backs of his ears turn a little pink.
“What perfect names you picked, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughs. “They sure do look good enough to eat!”
Lan Zhan turns back around, and this time he and A-Yuan wear matching affronted expressions. Wei Ying waves his hands, trying and failing to school his features into something neutral.
“Ah, I was just kidding. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna eat your rabbits.”
Lan Zhan frowns at him, and then smoothly stands to his full height. This time Wei Ying can appreciate the view that the couple of inches Lan Zhan has on him provides. Lan Zhan squints minutely down at him.
“Are you sure you wouldn't like to see a doctor?”
Wei Ying gapes at him and then bursts out in laughter.
“Oh, you’ve got jokes, eh? Well, I promise I’m fine. I’ve had much worse spills than this.”
“It’s true,” A-Yuan chimes in solemnly. “Last month Xian-gege fell down the stairs and Qing-jie made him wear a cast for two whole weeks.”
“It was a splint, A-Yuan, not a cast. Nothing was broken. Qing-jie just likes to see me suffer,” Wei Ying quips. “Anyways, I was fine before and I’m fine now. But we should still thank you Lan Zhan! What do you think, A-Yuan? Should we treat this pretty-gege to a hot chocolate for saving your Xian-gege?”
A-Yuan bobs his head heartily.
“But first we gotta finish the snowman!”
A-Yuan looks eagerly at Lan Zhan, whose ears have gone steadily redder. It is admittedly a bit of a cheap trick, using A-Yuan’s undeniable cuteness in his favor, but Wei Ying doesn’t feel all that bad about it. Lan Zhan can always say no if he really wants to. It would be heartless, but the option is still there.
“What d’ya say, Lan Zhan?”
For one awful moment, Wei Ying thinks he’ll say no. Lan Zhan purses his lips in consideration. But just before A-Yuan’s smile can dim, he bows his head.
“Mn.”
“Woo!” A-Yuan crows, and bounces back over to their snowman.
“Here, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, bending down to pick up the sticks he had unceremoniously dropped during his fall. A-Yuan’s are long abandoned. “You can do the honors.”
Lan Zhan cocks his head ever so slightly at Wei Ying.
“You would trust your son with a stranger?”
“Oh!” Wei Ying starts. “He’s not actually my son. I mean, yes he is mine, but not-” he shrugs halfheartedly, not sure why he feels compelled to explain himself. “It’s complicated,” he finishes lamely.
Lan Zhan levels another quiet, searching gaze at Wei Ying.
“Regardless, it is clear how he sees you,” Lan Zhan turns to look at A-Yuan with something unknowably heavy in his gaze. Wei Ying considers the truth of Lan Zhan’s words. He doesn’t need A-Yuan to call him Baba to know what they are to one another. “But you are not worried?” Lan Zhan presses.
“About you? Nah, you honestly seem like you’d make a much better parent than I do,” he smiles cheerfully even as Lan Zhan makes a face at that. “Plus, A-Yuan has a pretty good sense about people. And you’ve obviously made quite an impression.”
Lan Zhan pauses in thought. He opens his mouth to say something, but A-Yuan cuts in.
“Pretty-gege!” he shouts, waving one of the stick-arms. “I can’t reach. You’re taller than Xian-gege, come help!”
“Duty calls,” Wei Ying winks. “Pretty-gege.”
Lan Zhan goes still and then walks primly over to A-Yuan, but Wei Ying can see that telltale flush grace his ears once again. Lan Zhan seems to prefer blue, but Wei Ying thinks that red suits him just as well.
When they finish, Lan Zhan’s arm is perfectly positioned on his side, but A-Yuan’s is only as tall as he could reach, leaving the snowman looking a little lopsided. Wei Ying still thinks it’s the best snowman of them all. A-Yuan seems to agree if the way he’s stepped back to preen at it is any indication.
“A-Yuan, turn around and smile for the camera. I’m sending this to Qing-jie and Ning-di!”
He gets several tooth-rottingly sweet pictures of A-Yuan hugging the snowman.
“Would you like a picture of the two of you?” Lan Zhan asks from where he has managed to slip out of range of Wei Ying’s camera.
Wei Ying brightens.
“Oh, yeah, that would be great actually if you don’t mind!”
“Mn,” Lan Zhan dips his head. “I do not.”
Wei Ying passes his phone over, their hands just brushing in the exchange. Lan Zhan’s fingers are impossibly warm against Wei Ying’s frigid ones. He feels a shiver run down his spine.
Lan Zhan is an efficient but committed photographer, getting in several different angles in quick succession. Lan Zhan hands the phone back when he is done, and Wei Ying takes a quick swipe through the shots. Of course, he has managed to make the simple snaps look like something from a professional shoot.
“Take one of me and pretty-gege next!” A-Yuan burbles.
“Oh, I don’t think-” Lan Zhan is interrupted as A-Yuan takes his hand and trots him over to the snowman. Lan Zhan looks helplessly at Wei Ying who throws his head back in amusement. Acceptance settles in Lan Zhan’s expression. “Very well.”
“Can’t say no to that face, can you?” Wei Ying smirks knowingly.
“Evidently not,” Lan Zhan mutters, though Wei Ying just barely catches the words as he moves away to stand beside the snowman.
“Okay, one…two…three. Smile!”
He takes a few in hopes of getting at least one good one. From A-Yuan’s wiggling, it is clear that he is ready for the next activity. As soon as Wei Ying puts his phone away, A-Yuan is tugging at his pants leg in earnest. Lan Zhan hovers nearby.
“Xian-gege can we go get hot chocolate with pretty-gege now?”
This kid…He’s more shameless than I am.
Wei Ying gives Lan Zhan a rueful smile.
“You don’t really have to if you don’t want to,” he shrugs easily. “I’m sure we’ve taken over enough of your day as it is.”
“I have agreed, and I will honor that,” Lan Zhan says sternly. “But there is an important matter we should discuss first.”
A-Yuan gives an exasperated sigh and traipses off towards the sidewalk. Apparently there is no time for boring adult conversations when there should be hot chocolate being had. At Lan Zhan’s tone, Wei Ying draws himself up, trying to act like the adult he rarely feels like he is.
“Uh, yeah, shoot.”
He’s married. He’s definitely married, and you’re being weird, Lan Zhan’s just too nice to hurt A-Yuan’s feelings. He probably-
“You never gave me your name. Unless you intend for me to call you Xian-gege as well,” Lan Zhan says archly.
Wei Ying chokes on nothing. Frankly, Lan Zhan could call him whatever he wants and Wei Ying would answer to it. But he thinks that may be a little too forward. He clears his throat.
“Erm, Wei Ying.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan hums.
Wei Ying feels decidedly sweaty in his coat. He resists the urge to fidget.
“Xian-gege, let’s gooo!” A-Yuan whines from the path, stamping his little feet for emphasis.
“Um yeah,” Wei Ying responds weakly. “Coming?”
He looks to Lan Zhan.
“Mn.”
And so they go.
POST-CREDITS
“Xian-gege, can I meet pretty-gege’s bunnies?”
They made it to a coffeeshop a few blocks from the park. A-Yuan had insisted on sitting next to Lan Zhan, though Wei Ying had pouted at him to little effect. In front of each of them is a steaming mug of hot chocolate, Wei Ying and A-Yuan’s topped precariously with a mountain of whipped cream and chocolate shavings.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying corrects A-Yuan. “You know his name, you don’t need to keep calling him that.”
“It is alright. I do not mind,” Lan Zhan replies.
“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Wei Ying mutters, rolling his eyes.
“What was that, Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks politely.
“Oh nothing, nothing. What are you doing on Saturday, Lan Zhan?”
“I-” Lan Zhan freezes, cup raised halfway to his lips. “What?”
“For me to meet the bunnies, Lan Zhan. So shameless. I’m only asking for A-Yuan’s sake, of course.”
“Of course…for A-Yuan.”
Lan Zhan’s eyes burn over the rim of his drink as he takes a mouthful of hot chocolate and swallows. Wei Ying resolutely does not stare at his lips. Or his throat. He shifts to look at A-Yuan.
“How about I spend a little time with Lan Zhan first, hm?” He hides behind his hand to fake-whisper across the table. “Gotta be sure he’s not a crazy axe murderer. You can meet the bunnies after I make sure everything’s safe.”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan admonishes.
“Pretty-gege can’t be a murderer,” A-Yuan frowns, already looking like a scaled down Lan Zhan in the way he mirrors each refined sip, though the whipped cream mustache somewhat undermines the effect.
“How come?” Wei Ying prompts.
“He’s too pretty,” A-Yuan replies simply.
“Ah, truly faultless logic. Did you hear that, Lan Zhan? There can’t be anything wrong with you ever because you’re pretty.”
“A-Yuan is correct.”
Wei Ying splutters into his cup.
“Oh my god.”
In the end they exchange numbers. And even though it is supposed to be Wei Ying treating Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan is the one who ends up paying.
There’s always next time, Wei Ying supposes.
(As it turns out, there are many more next times, and Wei Ying never gets the chance to pay).