Work Text:
Lan Wangji’s work is considered essential.
Why he has to go into school when his students could ignore him in favour of the internet within the comfort of their own homes instead of pretending to pay attention, he doesn’t know. Judging by the varying expressions of boredom on twenty-five teenage faces, they’re thinking the same thing.
Well. From what he can see of their faces behind their masks. One student has worn one that says Fuck Off and repeatedly declared he’d be breaking the law by removing it.
Wei Ying would approve of Lan Jingyi’s dedication to chaos. That may be the only reason Lan Wangji hasn’t made him switch to one of the disposable masks he has in his desk.
Well. That and Jin Ling looks irritated by it, which means he’ll go home to rant to his uncle, who will call and declare Lan Wangji to be a menace to society and entirely inappropriate for the family. Again.
Lan Wangji would be lying if he said he didn’t get a kick out of pissing off his brother-in-law.
There are only five minutes left for the lesson when Ouyang Zizhen raises his hand. This either means he has an excellent linguistic analysis to share, or is about to dissolve the class’ concentration irreparably. Lan Wangji puts the example of persuasive language down. “Yes?”
Ouyang Zizhen’s eyes are clear with the innocence of youth. Lan Wangji doesn’t trust it one iota. “Why do we still have to come in when we’re just gonna have to do remote again anyway?”
Half the class groans. The other half look just as intrigued. The school has given him a written statement he is supposed to recite word for word.
He ignores it.
“It is a privilege to be together, in this environment.” Lan Wangji recalls how empty the shopping centres are now. While he loves it, Wei Ying clearly misses the contact with other people. “Enjoy your time together while you can.”
Lan Jingyi whistles lowly. “Ominous.”
“It was funnier when we had Zoom classes,” one of the girls sighs. “Your husband kept pulling faces behind you.”
Lan Wangji blinks slowly. He’d been switching the screen away from his own window so he wasn’t distracted. He looks to A-Yuan, who is suddenly finding his worksheet extremely fascinating.
Well. If it made them pay more attention, all the better.
The bell rings and the students move as one, excitement fading as they realise their next class is Methods.
Lan Wangji smoothly collects his belongings into his bag, now used to having to immediately head home. It’s only second period and Wei Ying has finished a project early, so they should have some time to spend together before A-Yuan comes home.
He contemplates which movie they should watch as he puts his mask back on, then notices a piece of folded paper sticking out of his bag. He plucks it out and opens it, and his eyes are promptly offended by the atrocious mix of colour on the paper. It’s such a mess he can hardly read the text, which is in an old PowerPoint font he hasn’t seen since university.
LOOKING FOR SOME SAFE AND SEXY FUN IN OUR COVID WORLD?
LOOK NO FURTHER
FOR A FUN TIME, COME TO THE FORBIDDEN RECESSES
Written beneath the chaos is his address. Lan Wangji promptly hides the paper back in his bag and keeps a straight face as the last of his students leave. Really, what is Wei Ying thinking?
The corner of his mouth twitches into a smile. His husband is ridiculous, but that’s also one of his endearing qualities.
Every appalling design on that flyer must have been on purpose, like Wei Ying was using his artistic powers for evil. Lan Wangji shakes his head and closes his hand around his car keys in his pocket.
The house is silent. Usually Wei Ying would’ve heard him park the car and then raced through the house to tackle him with a hug, but given his arms are currently husbandless, he must be up to something.
Lan Wangji places his shoes by the front door and switches to the bunny slippers A-Yuan had given him for Father’s Day a few years ago. He hangs up his blazer and makes a small detour to leave his work bag in the study, then trails through the house in search of Wei Ying.
The house hasn’t been this silent in months. Lan Wangji doesn’t like it.
Every room is empty. Lan Wangji enters the bedroom and almost leaves again, but his eyes catch on the sliding bathroom door –
Which has a hole in it.
Lan Wangji’s first thought is relief they’re already waiting on the replacement door after Wei Ying had seen a nicely carved one online and promptly had to have it, and Lan Wangji has never been able to deny him. His second thought is –
“Wei Ying. What did you do.”
His husband’s cackle is clear. “Spicing up the romance!”
Lan Wangji has an idea where this is going. He slips off his tie and leaves it on the bed as he grabs one of the lesser used pillows. “Wei Ying. We had sex this morning.”
His cackle grows louder. “I saw something yesterday! Apparently there was a safe sex campaign that recommended glory holes. You know, no face to face contact! And we’re getting rid of the door anyway.”
Lan Wangji eyes the hole, placed at about hip level. He places the pillow beneath it, carefully keeping out of sight. He peers through it and can see Wei Ying’s reflection in the mirror, standing beside the hole. “It will look suspicious.”
He can see Wei Ying wave a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, I’ll just cut the shit out of it for firewood.”
Lan Wangji sinks to his knees, kept comfortable by the pillow. “It’s painted. It’ll produce too much smoke.”
“Bonfire then,” Wei Ying says easily. “As long as A-Yuan doesn’t see it, we’re fine.”
Lan Wangji allows himself one moment to imagine the outrage on his face before he casts their son out of his mind. “Fine.”
“Now! The fantasy!” Wei Ying lowers his voice, overshooting sexy and going straight into hilarious. “Oh, mysterious stranger, you have found me. Please, deposit your… currency.”
Lan Wangji can’t help it. He snorts.
One of Wei Ying’s silver eyes suddenly fills the space. “Lan Zhan! You’re supposed to be standing!”
Lan Wangji’s lips struggle to stay flat. “No.”
“No – Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying sounds more outraged than he truly is, and Lan Wangji enjoys putting him through his paces from time to time. Lan Wangji runs a finger along the cylinder, impressed by its smoothness. The thickness, however, is less than pleasing. “Fine,” he huffs. “What do you want?”
The answer, as always, is simple. “What Wei Ying wants.”
Wei Ying makes a strangled noise. “You!”
“Me,” Lan Wangji replies lightly, enjoying the play of emotion on his husband’s face.
“Aren’t you playful today,” Wei Ying says, pushing himself to stand with a groan. “Okay, fine. You can suck me but only if I can later!”
With anyone else, Lan Wangji would feel absurd, arguing over who gets to give a blowjob through a DIY hole in the bathroom door. Because it’s Wei Ying, he feels amused and content, instead. Light. Welcome.
He hums. “Fine.”
The sound of a zipper being undone brings his attention into sharp focus and reminds him this isn’t entirely a silly game. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying breathes, already getting excited. “Say something sexy.”
Really, it makes sense. Wei Ying has to get hard before he can get his dick through the hole. But also – “This is a late precaution. If either of us has Covid, the other likely does too.”
Wei Ying groans. It isn’t a strictly sexy groan, but also isn’t not sexy. “Lan Zhan.”
“I could still taste you before my tea,” Lan Wangji says, tone unchanging. “It made me want to eat you out again.”
A quiet choke. Then, “you ate me out last night!”
Lan Wangji hums in agreement. “Again.”
“Fucking hell, Lan Zhan,” and then the light through the hole disappears and the red head of his cock is coming through.
Lan Wangji takes a moment to admire the image. Then he leans forward and licks a slow stripe through the slit, smirking slightly at the smack of hands against the door. He pulls back, waits a second before closing his mouth around the head. He sucks gently, trying to keep quiet so he can hear Wei Ying’s breathing go heavier. Then he lets it fall from his mouth with a soft pop, watches it twitch within the limited space.
He takes advantage of Wei Ying being unable to anticipate his movements, alternating between small kitten licks and sucking a modest mouthful, flushing as the salt of precome soaks his tongue. The weight on his tongue has him slowly becoming impatient, hands gripping his slacks and not the warm thighs he’d prefer.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighs, rocking the door with gentle thrusts. Lan Wangji tries to endure, but the press of wood against his lips is uncomfortable. A bad angle traps his lip between the door and Wei Ying’s cock. He growls with frustration, only half able to enjoy Wei Ying’s startled gasp as he pulls off and licks his swollen lip.
“Open the door,” he says lowly. His cock disappears and the door slides open with a slam, revealing Wei Ying in his jeans and one of Lan Wangji’s old shirts, flushed cock jutting out between the zipper.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, hands reaching out tentatively. Lan Wangji pulls him forward by the hips and sinks his mouth down his cock, opening his throat and taking him to the hilt. “Fuck.”
Lan Wangji is supposed to give a video report to the principal tonight. His voice will be rough at best, ruined if he pushes Wei Ying enough. He groans at the thought, shifting on the pillow as blood rushes to his groin in an uncomfortable throb.
Warm fingers slide through his hair, cradling his head as he gives a tentative thrust. “Is this okay, Lan Zhan?”
He sounds desperate, like he’d cry if the answer is no. Lan Wangji hums his approval, coaxing Wei Ying’s hips into more confident movements.
The next thrust has his eyes watering on reflex. He blinks tears into falling so he can look up, see Wei Ying’s storm-grey eyes watch him with rapture. “Lan Zhan,” he whispers, like his name is a well-kept secret, safe in his mouth. “So good for me, Lan Zhan. So gorgeous, so perfect.”
Heat sparks beneath his skin like he’s been set alight. He’s always hypercritical of himself, holds himself to a standard not even he can reach, but with Wei Ying he doesn’t have to try. He’s enough, just as himself.
More precome fills his mouth and he swallows it with a groan, hips moving restlessly. Wei Ying shifts and then there’s a leg pressed between his, solid and a welcoming reprieve. “That’s it, you’re being so good,” Wei Ying breathes, grip in his hair tightening as his thrusts become erratic. “Doing so well, fuck. So hot.”
Lan Wangji would rather grind against Wei Ying’s thigh, strong and warm, ravishing his mouth while slick fingers fucked him senseless. But that would mean missing the slight pull of his hair while Wei Ying fucked his mouth, losing himself in praises and moans.
“Close,” Wei Ying gasps, and Lan Wangji blinks away fresh tears to see his eyelids fluttering. “Do you want to –”
If he says stop, Lan Wangji will throw him out.
Instead he grunts his dissent, grips Wei Ying’s hips until they’ll bruise, and grinds down against his leg without reservation. “Shit, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying’s hips stutter, his taste leaking down Lan Wangji’s throat. “Fuck, fuck, Lan Zhan.”
He’s not sure who comes first. His mind blurs into nothing as orgasm tears through him, ruining his slacks as he ruts against worn denim. His limbs buzz pleasantly as he comes down, swallowing Wei Ying’s come without thought.
“Shit, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying sighs, dropping to his knees and curling into him. Lan Wangji tucks his face into his shoulder, catching his breath as lingering tears seep into the fabric. “Let me,” and Lan Wangji sits silently as Wei Ying cups his crotch and finds wetness. A soft gasp. “Did you.”
“Yes,” Lan Wangji says, and fuck, his voice really is wrecked. He’ll have to postpone the meeting.
“Fuck,” Wei Ying breathes. “Lan Zhan. You really are amazing.”
Even humming hurts. Lan Wangji couldn’t be happier.
“Feel like a bath? It should still be nice and hot, and I put one of the bathbombs you like! It’s not the black one, promise.”
Okay, he could always be happier and Wei Ying is especially talented at finding out how.