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“Ah, Jerome, you, my friend, are a life saver!” A exceptionally beautiful man in black scrubs flashes a brilliant smile at the blushing barista as he takes a truly heinous drink off the counter. There are more espresso shots than should be legally allowed, plus a number of different syrups in the monstrosity. Even though they all know he will burn his tongue, as he does almost everyday, he takes a quick sip, winces in pain, then grins so wide in delight his eyes turn into half moons. He raises his cup in mock salute and practically runs over to the bank of elevators, running late, as always.
Jerome and his coworker watch him go, ignoring the world around them for a moment.
“He’s wearing the jogger scrubs today.” The sentence comes out a breathy sigh.
“I know.”
“You got the crinkle eye smile today!”
“I know!”
“God,” a massive swooning sigh “I want to marry that man.”
“You have a girlfriend, Sarah.”
“I’m queer. Not blind. Just look at him. She’d understand.”
Lan Wangji watches this interaction with detachment. He has watched this interaction between the mysterious night worker who is constantly running late and the revolving door of cafe workers at the coffee stand on the ground floor of the hospital for 2 years now. He doesn’t actually know what the guy does, starting work at 8 at night with his black scrubs indicating he’s neither a nurse nor a doctor, but he’s been running past Lan Wangji on his way home since he started. He’s always vaguely fascinated by the way this man has been able to charm every one of the baristas, including a number who didn’t seem particularly inclined towards men on the whole. The baristas continue to stare in the direction of the closed elevator doors with the human embodiment of heart eye emoji expressions. Honestly, Lan Wangji finds it slightly unsettling.
He gives a little fake cough into his fist, just enough to break them out of their reverie. They both startle slightly and shake their heads to bring themselves back to reality. Sarah puts on her best customer service smile which melts into something a little more fond and familiar when she sees him.
“Dr. Lan! What are you feeling today? Peppermint? Chamomile? We have a decaf earl grey?” She doesn’t bother indicating the list sitting in front of him. After 10 years working in this hospital, he knows it by heart. He’s pretty sure that he and his brother are the only reason there is a decent tea selection in the first place. The little stand runs 24/7 and doles out espresso shots like candy to the hospital’s 24 hours of staffing. The fact that both the head of surgery and pediatrics ended up being decidedly anti-coffee was not something it was prepared for when the Lan brothers showed up.
“A large chamomile if you please.” She winces in response but taps a few buttons in front of her as Jerome grabs a cup and sets the scalding water to cool for a moment.
“That bad huh?” Lan Wangji is a creature of habit. On good days, he savors a large, refreshing mint tea on his way home, something to soothe his stomach and ease him into bed. On days he has to be on call, decaf earl grey keeps him from getting too settled. On bad days, days he’s lost a patient or god forbid more than one, days he’s had to break bad news, days he’s been on his feet in the same surgical suite for 14 hours, he sips chamomile tea on his way home. It reminds him of childhood, when first his mother, then Lan Xichen used to hand him a mug of tea and pet his hair when he couldn’t sleep. When the worst of his nightmares could be soothed by the sweet, earthy taste and some murmured reassurances.
He nods to Sarah, his hands and soul tired from a grueling, heartbreaking day. She gives him a sympathetic nod and hands over his tea, the comforting steam wafting between them. He hands over a 5 and waves away her attempts to give him change. She smiles and throws the extra in a tip jar decorated with little drawings of all the mascots of the barista’s schools.
“How is orgo going?” He asks. Lan Xichen had been pushing him towards this for years. Small talk. Minor connection. Over the past year he’s been pointing Lan Wangji in the direction of people he thinks he should be connecting with with mixed results. However, Lan Xichen had pointedly included Lan Wangji in a discussion of Sarah’s most recent classes a few months ago and he had found himself continuing the conversation ever since.
“Oh God! It’s so hard. I love professor Tasker, I really do, but I swear it’s like another language.” Lan Wangji nods in agreement. It helps, he finds, these minor connections. Hearing about Sarah’s classes makes it easier to forget the man that had died on his table a few hours ago. Made it easier to remember that not everything in the world was life or death. That at one point in life, learning to “speak” organic chemistry was the biggest problem he was faced with.
“Mn, it is.” He glances at her open notebooks on the side counter. Even upside down it’s easy to see she was doing just fine working through the problem in front of her. “It’ll click, you’re right there.” She lights up under his praise, but makes a shooing motion with her hands.
“Ack! Dr Lan! Don’t let me keep you! Go to bed. Get some sleep. I’ll be here with your green tea in the morning.” She grins at him again and turns back to her book. Jerome is already deep in an anatomy text book on the other side of the counter. “Good night Dr Lan!” They chorus as he heads towards the parking garage. He raises his tea in response.
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When Lan Wangji walks back through the doors of the hospital the next morning, 6 am on the dot, Sarah doesn’t even pause in taking her order from a bedraggled looking mom leading an equally tired looking teen with his arm in a cast to hand him his green tea. He places a couple of bills on the counter and keeps walking. He waits at the bank of elevators, mentally reviewing his calendar for the day. He has office hours today, so it’s mostly follow up appointments and consults. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s happy for the break after yesterday’s outcomes. Lan Wangji has never been one for self doubt, or for superstition, it’s helpful in a profession like his, which benefits from his knowledge but is also dependent on plenty of other factors, most of which are not in his control. That said, walking back into the surgery suite after something like yesterday is always more difficult.
His day passes uneventfully. He runs himself a little ragged, his days with office hours always a little longer than they’re supposed to be, a little more hectic, because Lan Wangji has never been someone to say no to adding someone to the end of his day when something emergent comes up, and something always does. That’s how he finds himself running slightly late today, having stayed in the office to finish up dictating notes from the day and dropping the little recorder into the office manager’s mailbox. He rides down in the elevator and thinks about going home to settle on his couch and let the stress of interacting with so many people over the course of the day fall away.
When the elevator dings and the doors start to open, he lets out a relieved sigh and starts forward, only to be crashed into with such force he’s almost knocked off his feet. It is only his quick reaction grabbing the wall and a hand that darts out to grab his shoulder that keep him from going down. He rights himself and brushes the hand off, looking right into the eyes of the mysterious night worker he keeps seeing, who is entirely too close to him for comfort.
Lan Wangji is wet, hot liquid is slowly soaking it’s way across his chest, down his stomach and soaking into his pants. He looks down to see the largest cup the cafe has, mostly empty, crushed between the two of them, it’s contents having exploded all over the both of them. The man across from him’s face is a mask of shock, mouth dropped in an “oh” and face and neck getting progressively redder as Lan Wangji watches. He makes eye contact and lets out a bleet of embarrassed laughter.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I was in too much of a rush to watch where I was going!” He looks genuinely devastated when he looks and notices the current state of Lan Wangji’s suit pale grey with subtle pinstripes, and a pale blue shirt and coordinating tie with a subtle cloud pattern in the sheen. It is one of Lan Wangji’s favorites, though as he looks down and takes in the damage, he realizes it may be that it was one of his favorites. The man’s hand, which was clutching a wad of napkins with his cup, is now pressing against his chest, his stomach and the man makes futile attempts to mop up the mess with the papery, ineffective napkins.
All of this has happened in a matter of moments. He hears the shout of the cafe workers. Sarah abandons the cart to run over with a roll of actual paper towels. She runs up and stops, everyone in the hospital is aware of how much he dislikes his personal space invaded, except for apparently the man, who is still pawing at his shirt and apologizing. She doesn’t grab him, but she motions away from the bank of elevators, which they are still blocking, and actively pulls the other man with her out of the way. She stands there wordlessly ripping off groups of two or three paper towels and handing them over as her eyes bounce back and forth between the two men.
Lan Wangji grabs the man’s hand, which is currently scrunching a handful of his shirt into a handful of napkin for some unfathomable reason. The man looks up at Lan Wangji from where he’s crouched slightly and looks down at his hand, taking in the fact that he is very much touching the very toned stomach of someone he doesn’t know. He smiles, embarrassed and holds his hands up and away from him, as if demonstrating his determination to not keep touching Lan Wangji.
“Ah…. Dr Lan! I’m sorry! I… I’ll stop uhh…” he pauses again to look down at where Lan Wangji’s shirt is still plastered to his skin. “I, oh no. I mean, I don’t know much about clothes, but that’s such a nice suit Dr Lan! Please, let me pay for dry cleaning or something!”
Lan Wangji hesitates, a little taken aback by the man’s charismatic energy this up close. He takes a step back and straightens the ruined suit.
“No need. I have others, Dr…” He doesn’t know why he does it, puts the invitation in there, but there is part of Lan Wangji that is hungering for this man’s name, for anything more about him. He’s known in this hospital, his brother and he both are, the Lan family founded it generations ago and there has always been Lan doctors from the main branch to run it. It’s currently his uncle, but eventually it will be his brother. Everyone in the hospital has always been very aware of them, careful around them, careful of them. Especially the younger Lan, known for being cold and aloof, known to prefer others to keep their distance. This man doesn’t, even now he’s swaying slightly back into Lan Wangji’s space so subtly it’s possible he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
“Wie Ying,” the man says, waving away the title with his hand like one would a fly. “Just Wei Ying is fine, please.” He says. He keeps forgetting himself and grinning at Lan Wangji, only to look down or notice the empty cup in his hand and realize that he probably should look less delighted given that he probably just ruined a thousand dollar suit. “At least let me buy you your last tea of the day.”
Lan Wangji has to consciously decide to ignore the fact that this sentence reveals Wei Ying’s knowledge of his daily habits. That’s something that he just can’t compute at all in this moment, so he just doesn’t. He walks over to the cafe cart, aware of just how sticky he feels and contemplating why Wei Ying couldn’t be the black coffee type so at least he wouldn’t be covered in a combo of coffee, sweet syrups, and whipped cream.
Sarah has returned to her spot behind the coffee cart, her face a combination of sympathy and delight. She looks over at Jerome who shouts some jumble of abbreviations and half words at Wei Ying which make no sense to him but seems to to the two since they nod in agreement and Jerome sets about remaking today’s experimental concoction. Sarah looks at him in silent question. He nods at her and she smiles in return.
“Mint tea today, Dr Lan?” She asks, her voice hopeful. He hums and nods his head, sending her off to make it with a smile on her face. He and Wei Ying wait together, Wei Ying still a little too close to him, or at the very least closer than anyone else ever stands. Wei Ying turns his attention back towards him and it’s like being put under a spotlight with the way it fills him with warmth and makes him anxious at the same time.
“So Dr. Lan, other than destroying those clothes and taking a shower, any plans for the night?” He asks, leaning against the counter. He doesn’t seem to realize the small gay disaster crisis that he’s insired in Lan Wangji, casually mentioning him in the shower with just a hint of flirtatiousness. While mentally telling himself not to let this get to him, and to keep it together Lan Wangji, for fuck’s sake, Lan Wangji shakes his head. Lan Wangji moves to hand over cash when he’s forcibly nudged out of the way by Wei Ying’s hip when he lunges forward with his card to tap it to pay before Lan Wangji has a chance. Lan Wangji gives a half hearted glare and drops the money in the tip jar instead. “It’s the least I can do, Dr. Lan.”
“Scrubs!” He finally manages to get out. Wei Ying looks up at him and cocks an eyebrow. “Do you need to go home to change? You can’t be here all night like that.” Wei Ying just laughs.
“I work in the lab, I’ve spilled far too many unspeakable substances on myself to not always have a spare set of scrubs here. Don’t worry about me,” He says as he grabs his drink and heads back towards the elevators. “Sorry again! Please send me the dry cleaning bill! I swear I’m not usually this much of a hot mess!”
Jerome looks up from where he’s cleaning the espresso machine.
“Don’t let him lie to you Dr. Lan, he is always that much of a hot mess.” Wei Ying grabs his heart in mock betrayal, throws his head back and laughs, full, booming, and sincere. He exposes the long line of his throat, and Lan Wangji’s eyes trace it all the way to the triangle of exposed skin at the top of his scrubs. He gathers himself back up as the elevator doors open and disappears into the bowels of the hospital for the night.
Lan Wangji just stares after him, realizing that he is in fact still staring at the closed doors of the elevators just like the cafe employees do everyday. He shakes himself slightly, looks down again at his stained… well his stained everything and picks up his own drink. The largest cup they have, filled with mint tea perfectly brewed to be drinkable immediately and he feels the soothing warmth settle in his belly, hoping it will settle this unmoored, rattled feeling he has. He thanks the baristas and heads out to his car. He wonders if that interaction was just as obvious and awkward as it was in his head, and when he glaces back to see Sarah and Jerome sharing a knowing smile, he assumes it was.
When he gets home his brother is sitting at the table, lazily slurping up noodles while scrolling on his phone. He looks up and does a double take, stopping to take in Lan Wangji, standing in front of the door, shoes off, holding his arms out slightly and plucking at his shirt to try to keep it from sticking to his skin. He jumps up from his seat and rushes over, concern in his eyes. Lan Wangji has never done mess well, and Lan Xichen has a visceral memory of a just bigger than toddler Lan Wangji having a sobbing panic attack when he’d spilled honey on his hands and had been unable to get it off. He has been able to calm the panic better as an adult, but Lan Xichen knows it is still there.
“Didi! What happened?” He’s already started helping Lan Wangji out of his clothes, pulling off his suit jacket and helping him shrug out of his shirt. He holds the clothing away, both distancing his brother from the contaminated clothes and keeping them away from his own pristine self. He takes Lan Wangji’s pants and holds up the bundle of clothes. “Do you want me to…” he starts to ask.
“Just throw them out, Da-ge, please.” Lan Wangji cuts his brother off before he can even ask a question. He is now standing in his underwear, still able to feel tackiness on his skin. He’s managed to hold it together this whole time, gotten himself out of the hospital, driven himself home, but Lan Xichen can see the calm starting to break, his breathing is getting quick and shallow. His hands are clutched together, fingers tangled, as his knuckles turn white.
“Didi, hey, A-Zhan, it’s ok. Box breathing. In for 4, hold for 2, out for 6.” Lan Xichen’s voice is low and soothing, he guides his brother through the breathing exercises they’d both learned as children. He counts for his brother, watches him struggle, then settle into the familiar rhythm. He reaches out and takes Lan Wangji’s hand, lets him squeeze his hand to ground himself, and pulls him to the bathroom. The stark white of the bathroom helps him focus. When Lan Xichen starts the shower and adjusts the settings, Lan Wangji lets him, but he nods his thanks and shoos him out, closing the door behind him.
When Lan Wangji emerges from his room later, he’s in his softest lounge clothing, cashmere lounge pants and a soft cotton shirt, they’re big and loose, not touching him too much. Lan Xichen holds up his favorite throw blanket, fleecy and warm for Lan Wangji to tuck himself on the couch under. He’s put his wet hair up in a bun and dried it enough to keep it from dripping. Lan Xichen hands him a cup of chamomile tea and sits close enough for comfort but not close enough to crowd. He puts on a nature documentary just loud enough to fill the silence in the background. This is his brother in recharge mode. It has not changed much from their childhood and Lan Xichen knows if he waits, his little brother will piece together what he needs to get out, what he has to say, what has been upsetting him. He’s always unburdened himself on Lan Xichen, something he’s always been grateful for. Lan Xichen makes friends easily, he has plenty of people to bitch to when he needs, Lan Wangji, for so long, has only had him. His little brother puts his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder, he winds his hand up to stroke his hair and coax his brother to turn slightly so he can begin working his fingers through his hair and braid it for him like he used to before they went to bed every night as children. Lan Wangji complies and puts his head back to give him access to the crown of his head as he starts to weave the strands together, going slow and redoing it more than once, knowing that it’s more about soothing touch than the efficiency of the braid.
“Da-ge, do you know a Wei Ying? He works at the hospital?” Lan Wangji asks, tongue always a little looser when they’re like this and he doesn’t have to make eye contact.
“Ah yes, Master Wei was quite a controversial pick when the hospital hired him.” Lan Wangji doesn’t comment, but cocks his head slightly in a way that indicates that he’s curious. “He was almost a doctor, one of the best med students that had ever come out of Yunmeng. He had gone to Yiling to do his residency,” Lan Wangji cringes slightly. Yiling’s hospital is notorious, underfunded, overtasked, utilized by a population of the working poor, those who couldn’t afford health insurance but we’re eligible for Medicaid. They never had enough of anything, staff, supplies, money, or space. The outcomes were so bad the place had earned the nickname of the “burial grounds.” No one learned to be a doctor there voluntarily. “He felt he would learn much more from the experience than at Lotus Pier, where he was slated to go. He was convicted of fraud. They found out he was running tests after hours for people and not billing it, and he was going to people’s houses who couldn’t afford to come in. He went to jail for a long time, but the townspeople loved him. The medical board made it clear that they would never let him be a doctor. The hospital hired him as a graveyard phlebotomist, they were desperate for someone to fill the position and he was the only qualified person who applied… each of the 3 separate times they posted it attempting to get other people.” Lan Wangji hums in thought. “What does this have to do with today, didi?” He asks, because he knows that if he doesn’t it’s likely his brother won’t tell him.
“He ran into me in front of the elevators. It was his coffee all over me today.” Lan Xichen hums in acknowledgement, his brother has very rarely expressed an interest in others. He has empathy, he cares, he’s a doctor who wants to do good for people, but individuals rarely register for him, and it seems that Wei Ying has stuck. Interesting. He finishes up Lan Wangji’s braid, pulling his hair tie from his wrist to secure it and patting his back to indicate he can settle back into the couch. He does, looking back at Lan Xichen impassively. He looks slightly wrung out. After yesterday’s bad day and earlier, he looks drained and young in a way that squeezes Lan Xichen’s heart.
“I have heard he’s quite charismatic. And very good with kids. I’ve heard nothing but good things about him from all the overnight ER staff and on call peds residents. What did you think didi?”
“He offered to pay for my dry cleaning. And bought my tea.” Lan Wangji says, resting his head on his brother’s shoulder again. “He’s… a lot.” Lan Xichen chuckles slightly into his fist.
“That he is. Now rest, we should head to bed soon.” Lan Wangji nods his head and they both turn their focus to the soothing underwater video that’s filling the screen in front of them.
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Lan Wangji sleeps well that night, mostly from exhaustion, but he’s looking forward to work in a way that he usually doesn’t when he leaves his house. He allows himself the indulgence of extra time to meditate and prepare at home after a trying few days. When he walks through the hospital doors, an hour later than normal, Sarah beams at him from behind the register and hands him a still steaming cup. When he pulls out his wallet, she waves him away, telling him that Wei Ying had paid for it before leaving for the day. He takes his cash and dumps it in the tip jar, looking at his drink in wonder as he heads up to his office for the day.
If Lan Wangji ends his day a little early so he can make it down and prepay for Wei Ying’s drink before he comes in for the night, he doesn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t expect much of it, a coworker who felt guilty for running into him and ruining his clothes. He tells himself he pays for the drink as an indication that they’re even, that there’s no hard feelings. He almost believes it.
It becomes a thing between them. Wei Ying has already paid for his tea when he come in in the morning, Lan Wangji pays for his caffeinated monstrosity every night, eventually coming to discuss with Jerome new potential drink combos and flavors, usually leaving before Wei Ying actually makes it in for the night. He isn’t quite sure how he feels about it, this thing. Wei Ying, with his glowing smile and his flirtatious manner, both draws him in and scares him. He has watched every barista that works at the little cart fall a bit in love with him. He knows he’s just another victim of the “crinkle eye smile” and very nicely fitting jogger scrubs. He didn’t know it was this possible to want someone so much. He didn’t know it was possible to want anything so much. It unnerves him.
The dance goes on for weeks, each coming in to find their drinks paid for, and the occasional message.
“Wei Ying says break a leg today Dr Lan!” Sarah will call to Lan Wangji as he heads to the elevator.
“Dr Lan says to have a good shift and don’t drink too much caffeine, Wei Ying,” Jerome will tell him between too many pumps of flavored syrup.
The baristas are increasingly invested. They are now decidedly part of Operation Matchmaker. They’ve recruited half the hospital’s staff. The hospital’s laundry service “lost” all of Wei Ying’s normal scrubs and “found” a couple extra pair that had a much more flattering fit. The cafeteria staff “happened” to casually mention Dr Lan is a vegetarian and that there’s a restaurant in town he’d recommended. The registrar’s office kept Dr. Lan on the phone until just after they’d seen Wei Ying’s car pull into the parking lot, arranging for them to run into each other in the lobby. They even got the intake department to convince Wei Ying to come in early for a potluck so he could see Dr. Lan post surgery, a little sweaty, a little tired, a lot gorgeous. One of the women in intake just happened to push an extra water bottle on him before asking him to check to see if Cheryl was done getting the family’s info on the surgical floor. Wei Ying stuttering at the sight of Lan Wanji walking out and pulling his surgical cap off to wipe his brow and shoving a water bottle into his hands before practically running away was the facepalm heard around the hospital.
Lan Wangji arrives home a few months after his first run in with Wei Ying and Lan Xichen is standing at the kitchen counter waiting for him. Lan Wangji eyes him warily. Lan Xichen only really waits for him when he feels there’s a need for “a talk.” Usually this means Lan Xichen encouraging him out of his comfort zone, though he does have to admit that he’s stuck with the book club his brother had pushed on him, and the rock climbing has been fun, and ok therapy was probably for the best, but still.
“Didi, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Lan Xichen starts.
“Of course you do. Where’s the tea?” Lan Wangji asks, keeping himself from sighing, but just barely. Lan Xichen just gives him his most benevolent smile, the one that charms the parents of his patients instantly, that charmed parents of their friends their whole lives, the one that hasn’t worked on Lan Wangji since he was 6, and hands over a mug of perfectly brewed chamomile tea.
“So have you thought about going out on a date? Possibly even multiple dates?” Lan Xichen prods, his voice both gently chiding and a little hopeful.
“Da-ge,” Lan Wangji sighs. “We’ve had this conversation, no one has ever really interested me.” His brother’s eyebrow raises, and he gets the infuriatingly knowing smile.
“Is that still true?” he asks
“Mn.” Lan Wanji says, taking a pointed sip of tea.
“It’s my understanding that you and Wei Ying have had a long standing flirtation for the past few months.”
“He has been buying me tea. I return the favor. It’s not flirtation.” Lan Xichen’s knowing smile turns into a smirk.
“I have heard differently.”
“And Sarah is a traitor who is never getting my help with orgo homework ever again.” Lan Xichen laughs.
“He can’t say yes if you don’t ask him.”
“Da-ge, he’s like that with everyone. It’s nothing.”
“You can’t know unless you actually ask.” Lan Wangji rolls his eyes and puts his mug on the counter.
“Good night, A-Huan”
“Just think about it A-Zhan! Good night.” He calls out after him. Lan Wangji closes the door in his face and Lan Xichen just chuckles into his tea and heads into his own room.
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When Lan Wangji comes into the hospital that morning, he gets his free tea as usual, Wei Ying has sent the message of “It’s going to be a good day” with Sarah for the day. Lan Wangji decides that it will. He’s going to do something about this long running thing that’s been going on between them. He doesn’t want to admit his brother is right, but honestly, his brother is often right. Sometimes Lan Wangji feels like the watered down version of his brother, not quite as bright, not quite as social, not quite as easy to love and keep, though he knows it would break his brother’s heart to know it. Lan Xichen has been dating both Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao for years now. The excuses that Lan Wangji has always made, Lan Xichen has found ways to work around. The late nights, the being on call, the notoriety of being a Lan, of being with a Lan, he’d found not just one but two different people who looked at those difficulties, looked at him and decided he was worth the hassle. Lan Wangji didn’t want to examine the ease with which he’d fallen into just not wanting to bother, worried there was an inherent sense of being too broken, too difficult to love buried underneath it. He’s attempted to date, gone on a few, sometimes even with the same person for a little while, but in the end, he’s never quite enough for them to want to stay, and being enough always seemed like far more effort than it was worth.
He gets out of surgery and decides he’s going to stay late. He’s not going to miss Wei Ying again today. He’s not. He’s not going to let a chance at a person who has made him consider that maybe it could all be worth it slip through his fingers through pure passivity. He dithers. Lan Wangji is not someone who dithers, but he putters around his office, with nothing that really needs to get done until 7:30 or so, because he’s slightly concerned that, with his luck, Wei Ying will show up early for work for the first time ever and he’ll miss his chance. He heads down to the lobby to wait. He walks over to the coffee cart and waves at Sarah and Jerome, just getting over the nursing shift change over rush and refilling everything.
When Lan Wangji approaches Sarah smiles brightly at him, turning around her notebook to display a very complicated and very correct orgo problem. Lan Wangji softens, he’s proud of her he realizes, he’s proud of a barista that he’s been making successful small talk with for the past year. Maybe he’s not as hopeless as he thought. He was a little worried about passing the time, but Sarah is so excited about her new found love of her classes and her professor that she’s delighted to while away his time chattering about how much everything has just clicked. Movement out of the corner of his eye makes him turn and his breath catches. He’s here.
Wei Ying walks through the doors, but for the first time, Lan Wangji is seeing him in something other than scrubs. He’s wearing a pair of jeans so perfectly worn they have to actually be old, a red t shirt, and a black leather jacket. He’s got a pair of converse on his feet and his hair up in a messy high pony tail that bounces as he walks. It should make him look far more like a teenaged cheerleader than it does. He makes eye contact with Lan Wangji and his face breaks into a blinding grin, lighting up his whole face until his eyes are little half moons of happiness. Lan Wangji feels a warmth spread through his chest. It’s like he can’t breathe.
“Wei Ying,” he says, a little breathless and stunned. It takes a second for his brain to catch up to what he’s seeing. “You’re not in your uniform.”
“I’m not working today.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Lan Wangji asks, realizing that it probably sounds a little accusatory, but his brain had short circuited at the idea that he might have come down here to wait only for Wei Ying to not show up.
“I came to see you! And get something new from our good friend Jerome.” He looks over at Jerome who throws him a thumbs up and turns to evaluate the selections of flavored syrups behind him with a appraising eye. As the two men watch, he nods to himself, grabs the largest cup they have, and starts layering pumps with far too much enthusiasm for the start of a 10 hour shift. “So, Dr Lan, I heard that there’s this restaurant in town, Horizons, that serves this, like 5 course vegan tasting menu on Fridays. They even have tea pairings. I thought you might like to go.” Lan Wangji is stunned. Wei Ying is asking him out, to a special event his favorite restaurant is putting on, on the day he was planning on asking Wei Ying out. Wei Ying doesn’t get an answer and continues to talk. “With me. Tonight. I got reservations?”
Lan Wangji still hasn’t managed to say anything. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t managed to move. He’s stopped functioning. He had a whole little speech planned, it included a caveat in case Wei Ying was not gay, it included three different activity options and four different available times, it included something about it felt like the hospital itself had brought them together. It was a very good speech and Lan Wangji couldn’t be more relieved to not have to give it. He suddenly realizes that he probably looks a little lost, or unsure or something, because Wei Ying’s face has gone from having a beatific smile to looking vaguely concerned. He also notices out of the corner of his eye that both Sarah and Jerome have gone completely still and are staring back and forth between the two of them, trying to make themselves as unobtrusive as possible while still making sure not to miss any moment of this.
“Yes. I would like that.” He chooses to ignore the barely muffled squeal of delight coming from the coffee cart, which is surprisingly high given that he’s pretty sure it came from Jerome. “Do I have time to go home and change?” He asks.
“Sure, though you’d be fine in that,” He waves at Lan Wangji, in another suit, and for emphasis waves at himself, “way dressier than me anyway. Here,” he says, grabbing his finally finished drink from Jerome,”grab your drink and I’ll walk you to your car.” He nods to Lan Wangji’s tea, which he hadn’t noticed Sarah place near him, and hadn’t even ordered yet. He looks down at the cup, curious which tea she’s picked for him and his eyebrows raise a hair as he looks down at a cup of beautiful rich purple tea. He looks up at her to see her beaming at him.
“It’s new, pomegranate butterfly pea flower. I thought… something new, for a fresh start.” She smiles and looks between the two of them, hopeful and fond and it hits his heart. She leans forward a bit and lowers her voice. “The whole hospital is rooting for you two. Go get him!” He lets out an amused huff and feels himself smile a little at her. She lights up at it. He looks over at Wei Ying and nods and the walk out together.
“You know, Dr. Lan…” Lan Wangji, possibly for the first time in his life, interrupts.
“Lan Zhan,” he says. “Call me Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying looks delighted.
“You know, Lan Zhan, those baristas love you. They talk about you all the time and how nice you are. They say you make the ‘Dr. Lan soft face’ at them and Jerome is very jealous that Sarah gets it more often.”
“Mn, when Jerome puts half as much work into his homework as she does, he will get more.”
“So strict, Lan Zhan!”
“Mn. They love you too. You have the ‘crinkle eye smile.’” Wei Ying throws his head back in laughter, and Lan Wangji could live in the sound forever.
“I love it.” He holds out his drink, something sweet, and overly caffeinated, and utterly perfect for him, for Lan Wangji to cheers against. He does. “Here’s to the best baristas in the world, and my perpetual running late. If not for them, we would have never met.” He toasts.
Lan Wangji takes a sip of his drink, it’s sweet and rich and flavorful. It’s perfect.
“Cheers.” He replies.