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Wei Ying had that look on his face that showed he was deep in thought, untangling some kind of mystery or lost in the twists and turns of some captivating theory. Not rarely Lan Zhan wished he'd know just what was going on in the other's head, to witness Wei Ying's genius as a passenger of his brain, rather than just a witness of whatever conclusions he'd eventually end up sharing.
"Lan Zhan, how big is your dick?"
Today was not one of those times.
Lan Zhan's ears burnt with heat almost immediately, wondering just what exactly it was that could've brought Wei Ying to prompt this question, unsure whether knowing would make the situation better or worse.
"Wei Ying," he said in an admonishing tone, but Wei Ying continued entirely unashamed.
"Aiyah, Lan Zhan, no need to be embarrassed!" He said, as if saying so would simply make it so. "I bet it's so big! If it's anything like your hands, it's gotta be. That's a thing people say, right? The bigger your hands, the bigger your dick? Or was it shoes…"
Lan Zhan sighed, leaving his friend to his new mystery to ponder over, as he considered Wei Ying's question more seriously. He had never thought to compare his intimates with those of others, had never thought to measure it, either. Why would he? There was hardly anything he stood to gain from measuring what was only for his eyes to see regardless.
Still, as little as he may care for the size of his own or other people's genitals, it was impossible to navigate this world without occasionally picking up a thing or two along the way.
"Average at least," was the most he could tell Wei Ying.
Wei Ying, still lost in his new train of thought, took a second to respond. "Huh?" He asked, at first unaware what Lan Zhan was referring to, before realization caught up. "Oh! You don't know exactly?"
"It has never been of priority," Lan Zhan explained, relieved of his years worth of Wei Ying's antics allowing him now to keep his composure.
"Ah, Lan Zhan, too proper for even a dick-measuring contest." Wei Ying nodded, seemingly unsurprised by this. "Well! There's no time like the present!" He said then, and in a swift movement reached for Lan Zhan's belt.
Lan Zhan's eyes widened in surprise, hastily scooting away on the couch they were sharing, creating a few centimeters of space between them and placing himself out of reach. Realizing Lan Zhan's shock, Wei Ying's eyes widened as well, in surprise at first, then with a big pleading pout.
"Lan Zhan!" He whined. "Won't you show me your dick, Lan Zhan? As bros, Lan Zhan! We're bros, aren't we?"
Wei Ying was looking at him with an expression so vulnerable, Lan Zhan ached at the idea of not giving him what he wanted. And yet, Wei Ying's declaration of being bros was precisely why, Lan Zhan knew, they should absolutely not do this.
"It is inappropriate," he ground out, strained but not angry, unsure how to convey to Wei Ying the myriad of feelings that would be entwined within this request without laying his heart and soul bare for him.
"Aww, but we're both guys, Lan Zhan! What's the big deal?" Wei Ying asked, unaware of the issue that lay within exactly those words.
Wei Ying was straight.
Lan Zhan was not.
Wei Ying saw their relationship as purely platonic.
Lan Zhan wished for more.
Allowing Wei Ying to see his most intimates was a surefire recipe for disaster, for hurt, and Lan Zhan knew with every fiber of his being that agreeing would be a bad idea.
And yet Lan Zhan also knew, as he took a deep breath to compose himself, that this was also not the first time Wei Ying had shown his interest in Lan Zhan's body, his attention, his affection. Perhaps it was simply within Wei Ying's nature, free from the boundaries that most other's would feel bound by, but Lan Zhan couldn't help to sometimes think, hope perhaps, that there was more to it.
"Please, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying pleaded again, his tone a little lighter and Lan Zhan realized this was his last effort, if he were to refuse now, Wei Ying would accept his loss. "I swear I won't make fun of you or anything! Come on, how bad can it be? We both have brothers, I know I wouldn't be the first guy to see your dick!"
As much as Lan Zhan didn't want to compare Wei Ying seeing his privates to the rare few instances of Lan Huan walking in on his shower or — much more horrifyingly — the singular instance of Lan Huan walking in on Lan Zhan taking care of his arousal, he couldn't exactly deny that Wei Ying was right. All things considered it shouldn't be an issue, and yet—
"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours!"
Lan Zhan's breath caught in his throat.
No, his mind screamed, trying to remind him that Wei Ying was straight and Lan Zhan's desires to see his— him came from a vastly different place than Wei Ying's, it would be a catalyst, a floodgate opened to all kinds of new desires, while at the same time his mouth spoke, "Mn. Okay."
"Ah—! Really!?" Wei Ying asked surprised and Lan Zhan tried to focus on the sparkles practically manifesting in Wei Ying's eyes at the idea. This will be fine, he told himself. I will be fine. I can indulge this once.
Agreeing to the mutual display of their most intimates was one thing, though, actually doing so— Lan Zhan found himself frozen in place, unsure how to proceed, how to engage. An issue Wei Ying didn't seem to be sharing at all, happily slipping out of his skintight jeans, hopping on one leg as he tried to free the other, until he was down to his briefs, red with silver trimmings and a repeating print of a cartoonish white dog bone pattern.
Absently Lan Zhan thought that seemed excessive, surely there was no need for either of them to vest themselves off their pants entirely, but then Wei Ying said, "Your turn, Lan Zhan!" And any higher functions within his brains decided to clock out for the day and leave for an early weekend.
He deserved a medal, Lan Zhan did not think, because the brain cells to do so were busy booking flights to Spain. But the sentiment was true nonetheless. The fact that he was able to keep himself from growing achingly hard just at the thought of Wei Ying seeing him like this was a true testament to his lifelong lessons of restraint and discipline. He managed to strip down to his own underwear without any disastrous accidents and only mildly losing his mind.
Wei Ying nodded approvingly, his eyes locking onto Lan Zhan's boxer briefs, eyes widening in delight as he clocked the pale blue cotton fabric, white cartoon bunnies hopping over the otherwise empty expanse, like clouds dotting the sky. It was a pair Wei Ying had bought for him two years ago.
"You're wearing them!" He squealed delightedly. Lan Zhan wore them every chance he got, he considered them his lucky pair of underwear. He was unsure if being in this… situation confirmed or refuted this title.
"Mn," said Lan Zhan, in lieu of saying any of those thoughts out loud, because they were bros about to platonically show each other their penises, and bros did not assign extraordinary amounts of luck onto the underwear their bro has given them as a bro gift for brosgiving.
"Good! Good taste," Wei Ying said as Lan Zhan wistfully dreamed about what else Wei Ying may enjoy the taste of. "Ah, it's almost a shame they gotta come off, but— uh." One may have thought it impossible, but finally Wei Ying seemed to grow the faintest bit shy as well, his cheeks dusting in a gentle shade of pink. "I guess, it's time to—?" He tugged at the hem of his own underwear to symbolize the next step in whatever convoluted rite Lan Zhan had managed to find himself in, and it took Lan Zhan an embarrassingly long mouthwatering moment to realize that Wei Ying was waiting for some kind of response.
"…Mn," Lan Zhan said, not even entirely sure what he was agreeing to. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all, perhaps he should put a stop to it before it was too late, but—
Wei Ying began tugging off his underwear. His eyes flickered between the clothing article and Lan Zhan expectantly, and Lan Zhan finally realized that he was supposed to move, too, that he needed to wrest back some control of his body, to slip out of his lucky shorts, even as Wei Ying's underwear was being slid lower and lower down his legs, his manhood hidden from sight by nothing other than an awkward angle, and if he waited just a moment longer he could—
Wei Ying's inquisitive noise snapped Lan Zhan out of the trance he had found himself in.
Underwear. Off. Right.
He still wasn't convinced that their dick measuring endeavors truly required either of them to bare their entire lower half, but Wei Ying was setting the precedent and Lan Zhan had not the required brain capacity to voice his concerns, most of it being used up by his continued efforts of keeping his blood from gathering at his nether regions, a task that did not seem to be getting any easier the longer he practiced it. Drastic measures had to be employed. Think of paperwork, he told himself. Insufficient. Think of shufu. An improvement, most unfortunately.
Nevertheless it had done the trick, and when Lan Zhan finally managed to reactivate his muscles and tug off his underwear — pretending near aggressively that he couldn't feel Wei Ying's curiously excited stare burning into him — he remained soft enough his dick could've been mistaken as entirely flaccid.
"Woah," Wei Ying said, very clearly entranced with the sight before him, as Lan Zhan refused to even look his way — entirely defeating the point of Wei Ying showing himself to him as well. But how could he? How could he possibly look at Wei Ying, bottom half entirely bare, and still remain compose—
"…Big."
Lan Zhan's head snapped towards him, captured by the breathless, nearly dreamy tone of Wei Ying's voice. "What?"
"What?"
And there he stood, half naked before Lan Zhan in nothing but his socks and a ratty tee with a logo both utilizing a nearly unintelligible font while also so worn out and washed out from years of use, Lan Zhan couldn't even begin to guess what band it might've once belonged to (he was unsure if such a band would even still exist), his own dick out and for the world to see, for Lan Zhan to see. If it weren't for the faint flush over Wei Ying's cheeks, Lan Zhan could've almost compared him to an uncomfortably comfortable locker room cohabitant — except had he ever had to share a locker room with someone that would stare at him quite as much Wei Ying was doing now, Lan Zhan was unsure he'd be leaving it without a formal complaint on sexual harassment.
This, though, was not a locker room stranger, nor was it sexual harassment. It was Wei Ying, blinking between Lan Zhan's cock and his face with big, dark eyes, a motion Lan Zhan quickly found himself mirroring.
Wei Ying's cock was, for a lack of better words, dazzling. Enrapturing. It was everything he's ever dreamed of and more, perfect in every way.
He was soft and uncut, his dick slightly paler than the rest of his golden tanned skin, enough to be noticeable, but not enough to stand out. He was unshaven — curly, wiry black hairs framing his manhood like a painting to be hung at a museum. Lan Zhan yearned to be the curator that got to nail this particular piece of art against the wall.
(He was smaller than Lan Zhan, though not small by any means — not that Lan Zhan would know for he had little frame of reference nor cared to compare Wei Ying with anyone else to begin with.)
"Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying's voice came out a little breathier than he was used to, but only for a brief moment, before he snapped it back under control. "I knew it was gonna be impressive, but woah! You're huge!"
"I—" Lan Zhan blinked, his brain desperately trying to keep up and failing. "I am?" Impressive, he'd called him. His dick? Did Wei Ying call his penis impressive? Was Wei Ying impressed by his dick? Did he, too, look at his with wonder in his eyes? Lan Zhan suddenly felt more self conscious than he thought he would — he's never thought much about his dick before. It was healthy and did what it was supposed to, not much more had mattered to him, but suddenly— suddenly there was more. Was the color right? Lan Zhan knew he was pale, his dick rosy and flushed in comparison; did it stand out? Was he— was he too big? Was there a too big? Or perhaps it'd be the curvature that would make it stand out, too curved or not enough or simply the wrong way.
How could he possibly compare when Wei Ying was right there, perfect in every sense of the world?
"Lan Zhan you—" Wei Ying paused, licked his lips before dragging his eyes up (and up and up) from Lan Zhan's cock to his face, his cheeks flushing when he realized how blatantly he'd been staring (as if that wasn't precisely the context with which they had agreed upon doing this). "This— uh. This is good."
"Good?"
"Yes." Wei Ying seemed distracted, then shook himself as if to shake himself back to reality. "Yep! I'm learning so much, Lan Zhan, like how you're not only impeccable in looks and impeccable in smarts, but in your pants as well!"
Impeccable. Wei Ying thought his dick to be impeccable. Lan Zhan wouldn't mind Wei Ying pecking at it a little, but—
"Ah! Woah! Look at that!" Lan Zhan followed Wei Ying's eyes down in confusion landing on his dick in horror as he practically saw it twitch to life. Wei Ying, though, was unperturbed at the idea of his platonic bro friend growing hard while bare in front of him, and unaware of the mental gymnastics Lan Zhan was attempting in order to get his situation under control. "You're even— fuck, Lan Zhan! I wanna see it hard! Please?"
"What?" Lan Zhan ground out, his brows furrowed and his ears burning. He felt a headache growing.
"I— Lan Zhan! I can't really tell how big it is if it's not hard, right?" Wei Ying said, and if it weren't for the blush across his own cheeks Lan Zhan could almost believe Wei Ying himself believed the words that were coming out of his mouth were perfectly normal things to ask for. "It's— for science!"
"You want me to—" Lan Zhan closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. "How?" He asked, because while Lan Zhan was fully aware he could likely grow fully erect within seconds by merely allowing himself to indulge within the sight before him and the fantasies that came along, he desperately hoped Wei Ying had not noticed this — which left a horrifying flaw in Wei Ying's request.
"Oh, I— uh. Huh," Wei Ying muttered then, as if he hadn't thought that far himself either. His eyes moved back to Lan Zhan's cock, and Lan Zhan felt hot and ridiculous and like a time bomb about to go off. "I guess we could like…" Wei Ying formed a hollow fist with one hand, as if wrapping his fingers around an average sized cylindrical object, rocking it up and down a few times. "… You know?"
With a sharp intake Lan Zhan's breath caught in his lungs. "You want us to. Masturbate."
Wei Ying's cheeks bloomed, and to Lan Zhan's surprise the other actually covered his face with his palms. "Well, when you say it like that it sounds weird!" He whined, his voice higher than typically. With his eyes covered Wei Ying couldn't see the way Lan Zhan's cock twitched at the sight of him this flustered. "But… yeah? I mean, uh… I trust you, Lan Zhan, and it's for science… right?"
Science. Right. Heavens be with him.
"Right," Lan Zhan repeated, and Wei Ying parted two of his fingers just enough to peek at him.
"Sooo… that's a… yes…?"
'We,' Wei Ying had said, because on whatever adventure his brain had taken that lead him to showing his dick to Lan Zhan in exchange of seeing Lan Zhan's dick, for science, also lead him to the conclusion that if he wanted to see Lan Zhan hard, the same would apply to him.
"Here?" Lan Zhan asked, his voice more hoarse than he expected, his throat feeling dry from anxiety and excitement both.
"Uh…" Wei Ying looked around now, his hands no longer covering his face, then grabbed Lan Zhan's wrist to pull him along. "My bedroom. I guess? Is that weird?"
Wei Ying's touch burnt on Lan Zhan's wrist even through the thin fabric of his shirt, but in a way that had Lan Zhan shiver, a way that had Lan Zhan want to have Wei Ying's hands all over him, to feel those electric tingles on every inch of his skin.
"Mn," Lan Zhan responded. "This is… weird." He could not lie to his friend, even if he found some comfort in that bubble in which Wei Ying somehow seemed to think this was a perfectly normal thing for two platonic bro dudes to do in their spare time. "Your bedroom does not help."
But rather than be perturbed or put off by the admission, Wei Ying simply threw his head back, letting out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, I guess it is, huh?" He finally admitted, though without even a hint of regret lacing those words. "Well, science gets weird I guess! C'mon, Lan Zhan, I wanna see what you got packing!"
He pulled him past the threshold of the door into his room and gently pushed him towards Wei Ying's messy, unmade bed, where Lan Zhan sat at the edge of it, stiff and awkwardly and bare assed, and quite frankly feeling a little bit like he was committing some kind of societal crime. But Wei Ying had no qualms with Lan Zhan's nudity on his (questionably) clean sheets, joining Lan Zhan by sitting next to him, so close— so close their legs nearly touched. If Lan Zhan were to spread them, their knees would—
"Alright! Let's, uh— Let's get this show started!" Wei Ying announced, rubbing his palms together with what could be mistaken as enthusiasm, but Lan Zhan began to recognize as nervous energy.
Lan Zhan felt paralyzed at the sight before him, eyes stuck to Wei Ying's stiffly moving hands like it was the only thing he could do. Either unaware or uncaring of the attention on him, Wei Ying moved his right hand to his face, spitting into his palm in a way that made Lan Zhan feel like he may just be going a little bit insane, like he was stuck in some kind of bizarre dream that managed to thread the needle right between nightmare and wishful.
When Wei Ying brought his hand to his cock, he was already beginning to harden. Not as much as Lan Zhan had at this point — his battle to try and keep his blood from going south long lost and forgotten — but still enough to be noticeable, enough for Lan Zhan to wonder, was Wei Ying excited? To masturbate? In front of him?
Lan Zhan rarely took note of silence, silent was his natural state of being, silence was his home, his comfort. As much as Lan Zhan yearned for Wei Ying's voice, his laughter, wanted to roll in it like a cat would roll in catnip, any other noise, any noise not coming from Wei Ying, Lan Zhan happily could do without.
The silence right now, though, was so thick one could cut it with a knife. He couldn't even be certain either of them were breathing. Lan Zhan's entire attention, his whole being, seemed to be honed onto watching that spit-moistened hand palm at Wei Ying's perfect dick, slowly, gently rubbing it to hardness, before wrapping his fingers around it. The silence finally broke when Wei Ying's movements began to speed up, wet noises filling the once empty space and then— Wei Ying moaned.
It was a quiet noise, barely a moan at all, probably closer to a grunt and most certainly swallowed before it could develop into anything more, anything louder, anything more filthy. But to Lan Zhan the noise, little as it was, was like oil to the fire within him, and his own responding moan was anything but little. It was deep and guttural and caused Wei Ying to visible shiver, before dragging his eyes up from his own growing erection to Lan Zhan's face.
"F…fuck, Lan Zhan… gege…," Wei Ying practically whined, his face redder than Lan Zhan has ever seen it before, yet his hand never stilled, his cock now slicked not only by Wei Ying's spit, but by his precum as well, glistening and filthy and everything Lan Zhan has always wanted.
"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan responded, the name on his tongue like a prayer, and when Wei Ying whined in turn this time, it was a noise of frustration, his brows furrowed.
"You're— You're not— hngh… you're supposed to—"
Lan Zhan followed Wei Ying's frustrated gaze and landed on his own, achingly hard cock. There was, quite frankly, no need for any more touching to be happening for Wei Ying to see him at his full hardness, his full size, the sight of Wei Ying, bare and flushed and needy, being more than enough to get him where Wei Ying had wanted him. But this wasn't about seeing Lan Zhan's size anymore, was it? Wei Ying was touching himself before him in an equivalent exchange to see Lan Zhan do the same. It was only fair to give him what he agreed to…
Stiffly and a little clumsily — unable as he was to see where he was reaching, with his eyes glued to Wei Ying's hand still working enthusiastically — Lan Zhan moved his own hand to his cock. He hissed at the dry touch, the sensation nearly painful with how hard and worked up he was. He only got to stroke himself two agonizing times, before Wei Ying moved. He hadn't noticed when he'd closed his eyes from the overwhelming sensations, but he noticed when they snapped open wide as Wei Ying suddenly shifted closer, scooting towards Lan Zhan until he was right by his side, legs touching. Wei Ying let go of his dick and reached for Lan Zhan's hand instead — pre and spit soiled fingers wrapping around Lan Zhan's wrist, pulling it close to his face. Lan Zhan watched entranced with wide eyes as Wei Ying leaned forward just a little, allowing gravity to aid him as he drooled a generous amount of saliva onto Lan Zhan's palm.
He should have, quite frankly, been disgusted. Somewhere in the back of his mind the brain cells that had left for the holiday were crying out in alarm, but the signals hardly managed to reach Lan Zhan, and all he could do was shiver and to allow Wei Ying to slowly move his hand back onto Lan Zhan's dick. Only once redeployed there did Wei Ying let go of his wrist and moved his own hand back to his own cock, stroking himself now slowly, lazily. His eyes never left Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan's crotch, his dark, lidded gaze fixed onto it as if hypnotized.
Lan Zhan let out a deep, rumbling groan when he finally began to move again, the motion much smoother now with Wei Ying's saliva working as lubricant, though the feeling no less overwhelming. Much more overwhelming if anything. The once quiet room now filled with filthy wet sounds, with moans and groans and names whispered under their breaths as if in secret. Lan Zhan could feel the heat radiating off Wei Ying, he was so close, their bare legs touching and he could feel it shift ever so slightly with every rough stroke of his hand. He could smell him, and Lan Zhan licked his lips at the scent of Wei Ying, the scent of sweat and musk, the scent of his cheap shampoo-conditioner combination, even faintly the scent of the spicy chips he's watched him devour a mere hour ago. Wei Ying's presence was everywhere around him and Lan Zhan wanted to let himself drown in it.
"Wei Ying… Wei Ying…" He panted, his voice rough and deep.
"Gege," Wei Ying responded with a keen, before leaning sideways and letting his weight rest on Lan Zhan's left side, nearly identical to the way he'd let himself rest on him when they would be reading a book or watching a movie or otherwise sharing in each other's space fully dressed and much more proper. "Gege… Lan— hnngh, Lan Zhan, I'm so— so—"
Wei Ying's eyes were squeezed shut tight, the thrusting of his hand nearly brutally fast now, clumsy as well, and Lan Zhan found himself matching Wei Ying's punishing pace. Wei Ying's hips rocked up from the mattress every few strokes as if to try to fuck into his fist impossibly more, chasing a high that was clearly so close. Lan Zhan could feel it too.
"Wei Ying," he said, but this time his name was neither spoken like a prayer nor whispered like a secret, and rather demanded attention. His own movements slowed, his fingers tightening just beneath the tip. "Look at me, Wei Ying."
He moved his own eyes from Wei Ying's beautiful, perfect cock to his face just in time to watch Wei Ying's eyes flutter open and fall right onto Lan Zhan's own enraptured gaze. "Hah—! Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying cried out as his eyes widened and his back arched. As he came, crying and mewling Lan Zhan's name, his release splattered across his hand and ratty band tee, but Lan Zhan did not see. His eyes were entirely focused on Wei Ying's face, on the way he flushed even impossibly more, the way he fought to keep his own eyes open, to watch Lan Zhan watch him cum, the way his lips parted slightly, flashing teeth and the pink of Wei Ying's tongue, all while leaning into Lan Zhan's side.
Whatever bit of restraint Lan Zhan had still been able to hold onto snapped in that moment. He let go of his dick to climb onto his hands and knees on the bed instead, caging Wei Ying in underneath him and capturing his mouth with his own. With Wei Ying's lips still parted — still trying to catch his breath — Lan Zhan's tongue was able to slide in between immediately, claiming the inside of Wei Ying's mouth as his own by licking every part he could reach. Wei Ying, startled and dazed from his orgasm, struggled for approximately three milliseconds, before going lax and allowing Lan Zhan's claim of his mouth.
As he kissed him, wet and filthy and absolutely perfectly, Lan Zhan reached for his own cock again, his hips thrusting into the hand before he could even begin stroking. He came within seconds, groaning into Wei Ying's mouth and biting onto his tongue as Lan Zhan's own cum joined Wei Ying's on the old tee.
"L' Zh'n," Wei Ying's mumbled whine eventually broke through the static of Lan Zhan's ears. He was panting, his chest heaving only centimeters above Wei Ying's. "L' Zh'n!" Oh. He still had Wei Ying's tongue trapped between his teeth.
Hints of guilt and shame managed to crawl into the faint cracks of his post-orgasm glow and he quickly let go of Wei Ying's tongue, his mouth. "…Apologies," he muttered against Wei Ying's cheek.
But Wei Ying did not seem angry or otherwise upset, his eyes swimming in the same dazed content Lan Zhan was feeling as well. He wrapped his arms and legs around him and pulled firmly down, until Lan Zhan was laying flat on top of him.
"Hnnnngh, Lan Zhan," he moaned breathlessly. "You're so— so good, Lan Zhan… We should— We should do… science together more often…"
"Science," Lan Zhan repeated, his own voice just as breathless. He had always been a man of academics and respected nearly any field of science. "Mn," he then agreed, nuzzling his face into the crook of Wei Ying's neck. "We should."