perfect

Cicadas sing a sharp song in the trees. The heat blisters the pavement. It’s a miserable summer afternoon for most people, which is why Wei Ying loves it. It’s nothing compared to sticky, swampy Yunmeng summers. In dry heat like this, the sun feels good and the trees are brilliant green and Wei Ying loves being alive.

He doesn’t love being in class, but at least everyone is miserable along with him in this heat. Lots of mopping brows, lots of unsatisfied murmurs. Is there any relief to be found in Gusu on such a day? Some have heard there’s a lake a bit further up in the mountains, big enough for swimming. But they’re not allowed to go up there; it’s off limits to everyone but Lan inner disciples. Only Wei Ying knows for a fact that it’s there; that’s because he’s been sneaking off up there every night since summer school started.

Lan Qiren enters and the room falls silent. The frantic wiping of sweat of brows continues, a current of activity in the quiet classroom. Lan Qiren surveys them silently and frowns. He’s sweating, too.

“Due to the excessive heat,” he says, coughing, “the upper grounds of Cloud Recesses will be opened to students for the duration of the day. That includes the lake. The back hills and the waterfall are still off limits.” Nobody picks up this last bit, because the minute Lan Qiren says “lake,” the room starts to buzz with whispers.

Not even Lan Qiren can quell them; there’s a torrent of nervous energy in this room, and it won’t survive an entire lesson. Sure enough, about twenty minutes before the end of the class students start gathering their things as though they’re ready to bolt. Wei Ying knows they’re only waiting for one of them to take the lead, and they’ll all start filing out with or without Lan Qiren’s say-so. Well, that’s a position he’s always happy to fill. He stretches out, grabs his backpack, and leaves the room without a word or a look back.

He heads up the stone stairs carved into the mountain, backpack slung loosely over one arm, whistling to himself. The other students will have some time catching up to him; he knows the way to the lake, and they don’t; besides, they have to go change, and Wei Ying always keeps his swimsuit in his backpack, just in case. So he climbs the stairs solo and pushes through the line of vegetation that lies between the path and the lake.

He’s about to emerge from the trees when a splash draws his attention. Quickly, he hides and peers over at the lake.

Someone’s already there and swimming. Wei Ying sees dark hair, pulled into a neat topknot, and the lines of what looks like a fairly strong body, blurred by the moving water. Some student has beat him to it. Which is a little surprising, because Wei Ying’s the only one with the chutzpah to sneak off in this direction when they’re supposed to be somewhere else. He watches in kind of dumb fascination as the swimmer moves to the near edge of the pond and surfaces.

Oh. Oh, that explains it.

It’s Lan Qiren’s annoyingly perfect nephew, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who is too good to attend classes with students his own age. Lan Zhan who, rather than making friends with such students, serves as a sort of disciplinarian, regularly snapping unruly students back into line with nothing more than a cold glance from his admittedly perfect face. Lan Zhan, who Wei Ying had to learn to avoid early in the summer, because he kept catching him trying to sneak out or tiptoe into forbidden places. That Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying steels himself to be utterly annoyed by whatever happens next.

Lan Zhan lingers for a time, head and shoulders above water. Then he approaches a large rock where his things sit in a neat white bundle. In one fluid movement, he lifts himself up with both hands on the rock and swings into a sitting position, his toes in the water.

It all happens like slow motion. Wei Ying’s brain sputters, then lurches, then goes completely on the fritz.

He’s—he’s—he’s actually perfect.

Wei Ying knew he was perfect, but that was an annoyance like everything. The beauty of his face was a mockery of everything Wei Ying stands for. He could find words to speak when faced with that stern face, but his words have dried up now, because Lan Zhan’s body is – Lan Zhan’s muscles are –

He has no idea Wei Ying is watching him. His face is serene, his body relaxed, and the sun beats on him like a spotlight, turning the edges of his skin to gold. Wei Ying is gobsmacked. How dare he. How dare he sit there with that expression, not knowing that he’s turning Wei Ying’s insides into molten lava just by being there … with thighs like that .. and a bare chest like a sculpted statue … and good god his arms, and his shoulders, and he already has an annoyingly perfect face, only now it’s matched up with that — thatbody, and Wei Ying has never wanted to close his mouth around a drop of water the way he does now, as water trickles down Lan Zhan’s chest.

Oh, and he’s wearing a fucking Speedo.

It’s common knowledge that a Speedo looks stupid on like 95 percent of guys, and yet Lan Zhan looks as though it was created solely to fit him. And nothing is left to the imagination. Holy fuck,that knowledge is going to burn though him until he’s cinders. He struggles to concentrate on something – anything but that.

It’s going to be a very different experience the next time Lan Zhan disciplines him.

Oh. Oh, now his mind is up and running again, but the direction it’s going is dangerous. Lan Zhan angry with him, Lan Zhan throwing him against a wall, Lan Zhan tossing him to the grass. Standing over him. Kneeling over him. Those powerful thighs and well-muscled arms. A hard hand on his wrists, unyielding no matter how much Wei Ying resists. Lan Zhan forcing Wei Ying to his knees. Lan Zhan between Wei Ying’s legs, edging forward, pinning him down as…

“Fuck,” he swears, suddenly and far too loudly. Lan Zhan looks up. Eyes suddenly sharp, he leaps to his feet and scans the tree line. Wei Ying has no choice. He just hopes Lan Zhan doesn’t glance between his legs when he shows himself.

He steps forward from the trees, waving a halfhearted hand. “Hi, Lan Zhan,” he says with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Lan Zhan’s brows knit. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh, but I am!” Wei Ying keeps moving forward, despite his best intentions. Lan Zhan’s body is like a gravity well, drawing him closer. “They lifted the restriction so we could all come up and swim today. It’s brutal out,” he says, squinting and raising against the sun although he’s actually perfectly comfortable.

“Oh.” Lan Zhan looks at him warily. “So others are coming?”

He says it evenly, but Wei Ying wonders if there isn’t some trepidation there. He’s perturbed enough that Wei Ying’s entered his space; what are twenty-some classmates going to do to him? “They’re changing,” he says. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” He grins. “Just you and me for the time being.”

Hethinks the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes is anger, but he doesn’t know for sure. “How do you know this place?” he asks, sounding unsure and not at all like his usual gentlemanly self.

“Oh, your uncle explained how to get here when he gave us the notice this morning,” Wei Ying lies. “I just didn’t have to go back and change like the others, so I got here faster.” He taps his backpack. “Swimsuit’s in here.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. “You’re going to change … here?”

“Why not? Ain’t nobody here but us boys,” Wei Ying says, and winks. He’s suddenly terrified of showing Lan Zhan his naked skin, but he can’t afford to show it. He strips off his T-shirt.

Lan Zhan turns as though offended by the sight. Well, sure he would be, since no one else can measure up to him, Wei Ying thinks. “Hey Lan Zhan, is this what you do while the rest of us are suffering in class?” he asks breezily, stripping off his shorts and boxers. Lan Zhan’s back remains resolutely turned. “Just swimming out here like a fish all day long? I bet I could beat you in a race.”

“There’s not … room here to race,” Lan Zhan says. He still won’t look.

“We’ll go down to Biling Lake next time,” Wei Ying challenges. “You can look at me now. The swimsuit’s on. I won’t offend your sensibilities.”

“I’m not offend—” Lan Zhan turns, and then something clips the edge of his word. He stares at Wei Ying like he’s got three heads.

“Oh, well, glad to hear, then.” Wei Ying sits down on the rock where Lan Zhan had been. “So. Mind if I take a dip?”

The coolness returns to Lan Zhan’s voice. “Suit yourself.” But he’s still staring at Wei Ying.

For just one moment, Wei Ying remembers all those earlier fantasies. That’s exactly the look he imagined on Lan Zhan’s face in those moments. The look where he can’t quite keep his anger in check. The look that says Wei Ying’s getting to him. Wei Ying has no idea how he is gettingto Lan Zhan in this moment, just sitting on a rock. Unless…

Nah, couldn’t be.

The next moment, Lan Zhan’s diving into the water. His body is an arc of movement, a single curved line, and Wei Ying loses his breath again. Apparently he needed to be reminded that Lan Zhan’s body is a flawless machine. His brain is pinging madly and he wants with all his heart to just drop into the water and swim for Lan Zhan like a shark. That would probably be a bad idea. He knows he probably has an advantage in an underwater tussle, but somehow, he doesn’t really want to win anymore.

Lan Zhan has emerged, in a shallow portion of the lake, his head and half his chest visible above the water line. He has eyes on Wei Ying. “Well?” he asks, something curiously hesitant in his voice.

“Well, what?” Wei Ying feels like he should be holding his breath. He’s careful to keep his voice casual.

Lan Zhan looks down, then to the side, then to him again. It’s a very un-Lan-like action. After a short silence, he ventures in what is almost – not quite – a tentative voice, “Are you coming in?”

Wei Ying stares down at him. The silence that follows is pregnant with possibility.

“Wei-xiong!”

Nie Huaisang bursts first through the treeline, then, following him, the rest of the students in noisy gaggles. “Wei-xiong, how did you find this place so quickly? We all got turned around looking for it—”

Splashes sound here and there as the students find their way into the lake. Soon, the whole place is echoing with the sound of laughter and chatter. Wei Ying’s gaze finds Lan Zhan, through an increasingly dense thicket of people. Lan Zhan is looking at him with eyes that are almost sad. A moment later, he turns away.

It’s disappointing. Wei Ying had thought – perhaps imagined? – that there was something starting to happen there, something thawing in the relationship between them. He considers giving chase. But Lan Zhan is striding through the trees and disappearing before he can say a thing. So much for that.

Still, Wei Ying has an image he didn’t have before. Lan Zhan, dipped in gold, his body bare and his chin uplifted toward the sun. It’s printed in indelible ink on his mind now, along with a memory of Lan Zhan’s gaze, softer perhaps than Wei Ying has ever seen it. He closes his eyes and savors both the picture and the memory for a moment. Then, grinning, he rejoins his friends.

16: Why haven’t you kissed me yet? From this prompt list…

Wei Ying is sitting in the beanbag chair when he mentions it, hunched over forward as he plays Mario Kart solo. Lan Zhan is reading, and trying to keep himself from stealing glances at Wei Ying. It’s not easy. Wei Ying’s legs are miles long, extended on the carpet. He’s got his video game face on – intense, focused, just barely biting his lower lip.

Lan Zhan has just forced himself to look back down at his book when, in a sweeping motion, Wei Ying throws down his video game controller. His eyes dart Lan Zhan’s way. “Hey, want to skip prom with me?”

Lan Zhan blinks. He closes the book and sets it aside. “You’re not going to prom?” he asks, trying to tamp down on the throbbing of his heart. He was sure Wei Ying would have two or three dates to prom by now. It was that certainty that kept him from asking Wei Ying himself – that certainty, and maybe a lack of courage.

Wei Ying blows air through his lips. “Pffft. Who wants to go to prom? All that dolling up.” His expression changes, and he flips onto his stomach on the big beanbag chair, legs kicking up in the air. “Why, have you got a hot date for prom already? Who is she? Do I know her? When’d you ask?”

Lan Zhan is actively trying not to stare at Wei Ying’s legs. “No.”

“No, I don’t know her? Or…”

Lan Zhan sighs. “I do not have a date for prom.”

Wei Ying claps his hands. “Sweet! Then hang out with me that night. I’ll show you a good time.”

It feels like a flirt, but Lan Zhan doesn’t dare hope it really is. Sometimes Wei Ying’s just like this. It’s maddening, and he’s maddening, but Lan Zhan can’t get enough of him. Ever since he walked into history class freshman year with a jumbo-sized cup of Coke and a carefree smile, Lan Zhan’s been gone.

Ofcoursehe will skip prom with him.

So on the night where giggling girls wear corsages and flirt near the punch bowl somewhere across town, Lan Zhan comes over. For a while it’s like every other time they hang out: They go upstairs to the attic den and sit by the big TV shoulder to shoulder. They play Mario Kart without talking and, in Wei Ying’s case, without blinking (Lan Zhan’s pretty sure). But at about 10 PM, Wei Ying abruptly jumps up and switches off the TV.

“Uncle Jiang has to be asleep by now,” he says. “Sweet. Time to go.”

“To go?” Lan Zhan’s vision is still swimming with red and blue shells.

Wei Ying grins and winks at him. “You didn’t think we were going to stay around here all night?”

Which is how Lan Zhan ends up sneaking down the steps and out to the driveway and “borrowing” Jiang Cheng’s bicycle. He’s not sure how he feels about the ethics of all this, but he’d follow Wei Ying anywhere, any way he can. So they make a beeline through the night and end up in front of the Yunmeng Secondary School building. Wei Ying leads Lan Zhan around the side of the building and tucks their bikes in the shadow of a tree.

“What are we doing at school?” Lan Zhan asks.

“Whatever we want. Come on.” Wei Ying heads toward the building.

“You’re going to break into school?”

“No.” Wei Ying makes a face at him, half-lit by a lamppost ten meters away. “It’s not breaking in if I don’t go into the building.”

“Then what are…”

Wei Ying hefts his backpack on his shoulders and points toward the fire escape. Lan Zhan follows that pointer finger all the way up. “The roof?”

“Well,” Wei Ying says too loudly, “I’m going up. You can stay here.” He makes another face and trots toward the fire escape, leaping onto the first step with a ridiculous amount of grace for a teenager carting a heavy backpack.

You can stay here, he says, but Wei Ying must know that’s impossible. Lan Zhan clenches a fist. “I’m coming,” he says.

They scurry up the stairs and across the landings like mice in a maze, and Wei Ying swings himself over the concrete barrier and onto the roof. Lan Zhan follows, cautiously. The roof is plain, ugly even, just concrete and an HVAC unit that gurgles dangerously in the darkness. But the view is all right – sprawls of suburban houses, vague orange glow above the treetops, bright full moon above. Lan Zhan gets a little lost looking around at it all. Then his eyes fall on Wei Ying and he’s even more lost.

Wei Ying’s wide-eyed, walking in a circle with his arms outspread. The moonlight and the muddled light from streetlamps join to illuminate him, the sharp curve of his nose and those smiling lips. Lan Zhan has, yet again, the urge to hold him still and kiss him. Wei Ying is always on the move, and all Lan Zhan wants to keep him in one place long enough to make his feelings known. But  that would be so unfair to Wei Ying, who is so beautiful when he’s in motion. So all Lan Zhan can do is follow.

After a few excited laps around the roof’s perimeter, Wei Ying settles next to him and swings his backpack down from his shoulders. When he unzips it, Lan Zhan can see the plaid peek of a picnic basket and a couple of cans of beer.

Wei Ying takes one can and offers the other to Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan shakes his head. Wei Ying shrugs, then pops his can open and drags out the blanket.

Several minutes later, as they lounge quietly on the blanket with the wide sky above them, Wei Ying mumbles, “Lan Zhan.”

“Hm?”

“What are you gonna miss about high school?”

There’s color in Wei Ying’s cheeks, and Lan Zhan can feel his ears go hot in response. He turns over the question in his mind. There’s not much about high school that he won’t have in college, and he’s looking forward to that more than he’s worried about missing high school. He turns the question on Wei Ying. “What will youmiss?”

“Oh, man, so much.” Wei Ying lies on his back and lifts his arms, pretending to draw a bow and aim it at the moon overhead.  He lets go of the imaginary arrow and snickers. “Those stupid pep rallies we had to go to. Huaisang’s locker full of dubious items. Failing math quizzes.”

“You’ve never failed a math quiz in your life,” Lan Zhan points out.

“I’vetried,” Wei Ying says with a laugh. “I’m gonna miss the pool.”

“There will be pools at college,” Lan Zhan says. “Better ones.”

“Yeah, but will they have the charm of our dumb little kiddie pool? Will they have locker rooms that smell like beef for no good reason? Huh, Lan Zhan? Will they have that?” He points his finger at Lan Zhan and closes one eye as though aiming a gun.

Lan Zhan plays along, putting a hand on his chest and looking down as though he’s been shot. Wei Ying cackles.

They spend hours up there, talking of this and that. Mr. Wen’s hair, whether Jiang Cheng really could shove Wei Ying in a locker like he always threatens to, what they’ll major in when they get to university, everything. Wei Ying slings over casual questions and Lan Zhan answers them, calm, looking up at the few visible stars. He’ll miss this, he thinks. Even though Wei Ying is going to the same university, it’s a big campus, and it won’t be like it is now, with Wei Ying a few doors down or a classroom away. And there will be so many new people, and Wei Ying will find a whole other group of friends. Lan Zhan will inevitably be left behind. He wishes he had the courage to tell Wei Ying how he felt. He wishes he had any confidence that Wei Ying feels the same.

So he’ll hold on to this night, the two of them alone beneath the canopy of sky, the smell of beer and the sting of insects. He’ll hold on to the look on Wei Ying’s face now, happy and flushed from alcohol, and the way his hair spills out of his ponytail onto the blanket like a waterfall. He’ll hold on, and he’ll want, and then when he has to, he’ll try to let go.

Lan Zhan doesn’t remember when they fall asleep, but when he wakes, the beginnings of dawn are painting the eastern sky pale blue. Wei Ying is curled up, head on Lan Zhan’s stomach, and Lan Zhan reaches down to touch his hair, pet him gently. “Wei Ying,” he urges.

Wei Ying sits up, blinks, and gives a big yawn as he stretches out his arms. “We slept?” he complains. “I wanted to stay up all night.”

“You had to sleep off the beer,” Lan Zhan says, kneeling and then standing up. The heat that had been Wei Ying’s body is dissipating too fast, and the morning air is chilly against his bare arms. He crosses them over his chest, trying to hold in some warmth.

“I was never drunk,” lies Wei Ying. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and unfolds from a crouch to stand with Lan Zhan.

“You’ll be unstoppable in college,” Lan Zhan says with some consternation.

“You’ll be there to keep me under control,” Wei Ying replies. Strangely enough, it’s the first time he’s talked about the two of them still hanging out when they go to school. Lan Zhan’s heart twinges with a painful bit of hope.

Wei Ying saunters to the edge of the roof and leans on the barrier. “Well, Lan Zhan, how’d you like prom night?” he asks, offering a winning smile.

Lan Zhan just nods. Wei Ying smiles wider.

“How about a dip before we go home?” he says.

Minutes later, they’ve shinnied over the fence like a pair of climbing monkeys, and Lan Zhan is standing awkwardly next to the school’s outdoor pool. Leaves have fallen in from the tree that arches over the pool area, big maple hands with spread fingers. Wei Ying is stripping somewhere near him. Lan Zhan has the good sense not to look. Instead, he turns his eyes to the western sky, still dark with night. The last remaining star winks at him.

And then he has Wei Ying’s arms around his waist. “Take off your clothes,” he drawls, trying to ruck up Lan Zhan’s sweater from the hem. Lan Zhan shakes out of his grip, but not before Wei Ying has laid a warm hand on his bare side. Heat courses through Lan Zhan even after they’ve parted, and he fixes Wei Ying with an angry gaze.

“Fine, if you want to wear clothes into the pool, see if I care!” And Wei Ying drops his pants in a rush of motion and cannonballs into the water in just his boxers. Water splashes onto Lan Zhan’s slacks, and he looks down in dismay. As he does, Wei Ying sends up another fountain of water, and this time it soaks him up to his sweater. Dismayed, Lan Zhan grumbles and starts to strip.

Wei Ying does the backstroke at a remarkable pace as Lan Zhan eases down the ladder into the pool. The water is cold, not icy but chillier than the mild air around them. Lan Zhan swims a lap or two, then relaxes against the side of the pool and watches Wei Ying horse around. He gets splashed several times. It’s fine. He doesn’t care. Wei Ying’s attention is on him, so he’ll take whatever shit he’s given.

Wei Ying grabs his hands, pulls him underwater. Lan Zhan opens his eyes and blinks away the sting of chlorine. Wei Ying is a big fish, his whole body one sinuous movement. Lan Zhan could grab his elbow, pull him close. Kiss him under the water like some sort of fantasy. He could.He’s strong enough.

But he runs out of air too soon, and comes up sputtering to the surface. Wei Ying surfaces next to him and laughs uproariously.

When he’s had his fill of the pool, Wei Ying hoists himself up and out, then pulls two big towels out of his backpack. Lan Zhan marvels that they were able to fit. Wei Ying has thought this through, going so far as to bring spare boxers for the pair of them, and Lan Zhan is impressed. If only this was a date he’d planned out so thoughtfully. Lan Zhan’s stomach sinks as he reminds himself that no, it’s not.

Wrapped in towels, the two of them lean against the chain link fence and watch the sun come up. The orange-yellow light makes Wei Ying squint and shield his eyes. Lan Zhan can’t not look - with the rays of the sun streaming onto him, he’s all lit up, his face illuminated planes and long shadows. He’s breathtaking, and Lan Zhan indeed forgets to breathe, gulping in a lungful of air like he’s just come to the surface after minutes underwater. He forces himself to exhale slowly, normally. Why is Wei Ying so beautiful? It isn’t fair.

“We should probably head home soon,” he forces himself to stay. “Your uncle will wake up.”

Wei Ying affects a labored sigh. “I guess,” he says. “I’ll be in trouble anyway, but you should probably head home and rest.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan turns and walks toward the corner where his clothes are piled up. Or, he starts to walk. He doesn’t get much further than an inch. Wei Ying has him by the arm, both hands stopping him.

“Wait,” he says. “I have an important question for you.”

Lan Zhan can do nothing but give him his full attention. He turns to face him.

Wei Ying flushes. The color in his cheeks rises so suddenly that Lan Zhan worries he’s gone feverish from the early-morning swim. His hands are still wrapped around Lan Zhan’s bicep, strength and warmth against his skin. “It’s a very important question,” he says, and there’s some tension in his smile.

“Go ahead.” Lan Zhan ignores the strange lurching feeling in his chest. The sense that something is happening. “What is it?”

“It’s like this.” Wei Ying beams at him, hands tight where they tug at Lan Zhan’s arm. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Everything stops. Time stops. Breathing stops. Lan Zhan forces out a “What?”

“I mean, I set everything up.” Wei Ying says, a whine in his voice. “We spent the whole night together, and now we’re watching the sun rise and it’s prom night and I’m shirtless. What else is it gonna take?”

Lan Zhan’s thoughts have gone so still, he has to kick them back into gear. “For me to kiss you?” He hears the words come out of his mouth and can’t believe it. He can’t believe this moment is happening.

“Yeah,” Wei Ying says. “I thought you would have done it months ago. Unless I’m misreading everything.” His hands loosen their grip, then let go, trailing down his arm and away.

There’s dismay in his gaze all of a sudden. Lan Zhan can’t bear to see it. He lifts a hand to Wei Ying’s face, touches where he’s dreamed of touching for four years. “Wei Ying … really wants me to kiss him?”

Wei Ying laughs. “I’ve made that pretty obvious by now, right? Lan Zhan, don’t tell me–”

Lan Zhan muffles any further words with his lips.

Wei Ying is sweet under him, so sweet. Sweet and yielding, and when Lan Zhan licks the seam of his mouth he opens to him, the kiss deepening but still soft, still gentle, still careful. Lan Zhan is aware that his hands are trembling.

They break apart and look at each other in the rising sunlight. Wei Ying’s cheeks are rosy, and his lips are wet and shining, slightly parted.

Lan Zhan kisses him again, and this time, he’s not careful.

He pushes Wei Ying against the chain link fence, feeling it sway under their combined weight, and drinks from his lips again and again. Wei Ying’s arms wind around his neck. A groan breaks free from Lan Zhan’s mouth. Wei Ying answers it. Beneath the slanted sun’s rays, they kiss and kiss, Lan Zhan sighing, Wei Ying moaning and pushing his body against Lan Zhan’s wantonly. Heat fills Lan Zhan’s body all the way down to his toes. He licks into Wei Ying’s mouth in desperate, powerful sweeps of tongue. The broken noises Wei Ying keeps making are driving him crazy.

He only stops kissing him when he can’t kiss anymore. When they’re both too out of breath and flushed to continue. They breathe raggedly, as though they’ve just run a marathon. Wei Ying’s hands cling to his back, his head bobbing against Lan Zhan’s shoulder.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan begins, not knowing where he will go from there.

Wei Ying cuts him off with a delirious sigh. “Finally,” he murmurs against Lan Zhan’s ear. “Finally, finally, Lan Zhan, I’ve been waiting so long.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Lan Zhan asks, truly confused. They could have been doing this years ago.

“You know.” Wei Ying’s voice drawls, smooth and sweet as honey. “You were Lan Zhan, you didn’t worry about things like that. I was just nursing the same crush that every girl in school had on you. Was I so special that I could have what all of them couldn’t?”

Lan Zhan holds him close. His heart is thudding with happiness and his mind is singing. “Wei Ying is very special.”

“Does that mean we’re boyfriends now?” Wei Ying asks, still a shudder of uncertainty in his voice.

It’s the silliest question he’s ever asked. “Mn.”

“And when we head off to college–” Wei Ying wriggles in his arms happily. “I can’t wait to tell everyone I’m spoken for.”

“Wei Ying. We should go home.”

Wei Ying throws himself forward, squeezing Lan Zhan around the waist.

Lan Zhan sighs and tips his chin forward, his lips catching Wei Ying’s cheek. Wei Ying makes a happy noise. “Five minutes,” he whines. “Give me five more minutes and then we’ll go.”

A jogger passes on the distant sidewalk. The neighborhood is waking up, and they’re still half-naked and damp. Lan Zhan really shouldurge him to go now, lest they be caught. Instead, he holds Wei Ying close and kisses his hairline. He’s waited four years. He can certainly spare five minutes.

They go back to Wei Ying’s place, and get in trouble, and pester Jiang Cheng about the prom. He has brought back with him loads of gossip, which he shares over the breakfast table. Wei Ying hooks his foot around Lan Zhan’s ankle under the table. It feels like fireworks. Lan Zhan fixes him with an incredulous stare, and Wei Ying just grins.

Wei Ying walks him to his house; they kiss, hot and messy, outside the front door before Lan Zhan walks in to inevitable scolding. It’s worth it. He couldn’t have imagined a better prom night.