Work Text:
Lan Zhan had just dropped his clothes into the hamper and had been about to step into the shower when the bathroom door opened behind him.
Despite knowing it could only be one person, Lan Zhan still turned his head to look, still found himself a bit breathless to see the bright grin on Wei Ying’s face. They’d been officially dating for nearly six months now (after nearly a decade of friendship and yearning), and Lan Zhan still wasn’t sure he had fully accepted it, the way looking at Wei Ying’s smile was almost like looking at the sun, too radiant to do much more than glance at it without being completely overwhelmed, and the fact that that smile really was meant for him.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying chirped, already tugging his shirt off over his head, already opening the front of his slim fit jeans and wiggling them down over his hips, “I’m gonna join you!”
Wei Ying didn’t phrase it like a question, but he didn’t need to. Lan Zhan couldn’t find it in himself to deny Wei Ying anything, even if showering together wasn’t something they’d done more than once or twice in the last few months, and those times had been primarily because Wei Ying had been overeager to fool around. Outside of that, Wei Ying knew Lan Zhan could be particular about his shower time, so he usually left him alone during it… but if Wei Ying wanted to join him tonight, Lan Zhan wasn’t going to object, not even without being sure of Wei Ying’s intentions.
“Mn,” he hummed softly in consent. His eyes trailed languidly across Wei Ying’s skin as Wei Ying finished undressing, still in wonder that this was a view he was treated to most nights, that Wei Ying was his to touch and hold and kiss after so many years spent longing hopelessly. Maybe… maybe someday he’d be used to all this, used to kissing Wei Ying, used to touching him and seeing him, used to loving him. Almost certainly, he’d lose that sense of delighted surprise at every casual touch or kiss someday, but for now… he’d enjoy it for as long as it lasted.
He stepped into the shower and left the curtain open for Wei Ying, who bounced in after him with a light touch of Lan Zhan’s arm, right under the stream of hot water. He immediately let out a content sigh, before reaching up to adjust the nozzle a bit to give Lan Zhan better access as well.
Lan Zhan let out his own slow breath at the calming heat, letting his eyes close as he ducked his head under the stream, the water running in warm rivulets down his back and chest for a moment as he tried to let the heat wash the tension from his shoulders. Work had been stressful in recent weeks; he’d had so much to get done that he’d been bringing it home with him, working hours that extended long beyond the average working day and into the night. He knew things would slow down and sort themselves out soon enough, that this schedule wasn’t forever, but that thought had done little to ease the regular tension he’d found plaguing him recently.
A hot shower was often the best stress relief he could ask for.
He stepped back from the spray and had been ready to launch into his normal routine, reaching for the shampoo bottle, when Wei Ying suddenly interjected with a soft, “Wait.”
Lan Zhan paused, and before he could do anything else, Wei Ying had swiped the shampoo bottle away from his grasp.
“Let me do it,” Wei Ying said sweetly, the smile on his face matching the tone as he proactively squeezed some shampoo into his hands.
Figuring there wasn’t a point in arguing the matter, Lan Zhan let his arms drop to his side, resigned to let Wei Ying do as he pleased—though he would have been fooling himself to say he was prepared for it.
Logically, Lan Zhan knew that at some point in his life, someone else had bathed him. His mother or father or uncle, maybe even his older brother some time in their childhood; he knew he had at some point been incapable of washing himself and that someone else had done such a thing for him, but… those days were ages behind him, and he couldn’t say he remembered far enough back to remember ever being washed by someone else—so while this wasn’t technically a first for him, it…
His eyes closed naturally as Wei Ying’s hands rose to his head and he began to press the shampoo into his hair, but… it wasn’t just that. Wei Ying’s fingertips rubbed circles against his scalp as the shampoo foamed up beneath his touch, working his fingers slowly through Lan Zhan’s hair, across the top, around the sides, down to the back—where his fingers lingered for a little bit longer, trailing down as he pressed those same attentive circles into the back of Lan Zhan’s neck.
Almost immediately, Lan Zhan’s lips parted, his jaw loosened. His scalp… seemed to tingle beneath Wei Ying’s touches, a faint pleasant static that crept down the back of his neck as well, his breathing going a little shallow as he tried to adjust himself to a level of intimacy he hadn’t realized was coming.
Just as the smell of sandalwood and vanilla was filling the air around them, Wei Ying’s fingers made a second slow pass over his scalp. His nails pressed down lightly, moving rhythmically back and forth, gently scratching around his hairline, his ears, the back of his neck, before climbing up the back of his head, the deliberate touches gradually making Lan Zhan’s shoulders loosen and drop.
Wei Ying’s body leaned gently into his, warm water pressing between warm skin that slid easily together as Wei Ying continued to work; Lan Zhan could say with absolutely certain he’d never been touched like this before. He and Wei Ying had already been intimate more times than Lan Zhan could count in the short time they’d been dating and even that was… somehow nothing like this, like the gentle, deliberate swirling of Wei Ying’s fingertips on his scalp as he washed his hair for him.
Even counting Wei Ying’s efforts, Lan Zhan wasn’t someone who had been touched much in his life. He always kept his distance from crowds, he didn’t have many friends, his brother and uncle weren’t tactile people—he’d even been cutting his own hair since his teens, meaning the last time someone else had touched his head like this was some memory so distant that he couldn’t bother pinpointing it.
By the time Wei Ying’s hands pulled out of his hair, Lan Zhan was trembling ever so faintly. He stood still as Wei Ying reached for the showerhead, gently pressing it against his hair to wash out all the shampoo, the heat of the water only contributing to Lan Zhan’s softly buzzing mental state, to the feeling of… calm weightlessness swirling around his head.
He didn’t even bother to open his eyes as the showerhead was put back into place, as he heard the squirting of another bottle, before Wei Ying’s fingers were pushing back through his hair again, taking just as much care to evenly spread the conditioner through the dark strands. He didn’t rush, his fingers moving in those same deliberate back and forth patterns that were slowly making that pleasant tingling sensation creep down his spine.
At some point, Lan Zhan felt a slight pressure behind his eyelids, the faintest of prickling as he felt the moisture welling behind them—he was overwhelmed in the best way possible, and if any tears escaped and slid down his cheeks, he at least hoped they’d be indistinguishable from the water spraying down from overhead.
He focused on his breathing and on Wei Ying, the only important things to him in that moment. In and out, he steadied his shaky breaths and focused on the very real pressure of Wei Ying’s body as it leaned into his own, as his fingers continued their gentle massage for another moment longer.
But even once Wei Ying had finished with Lan Zhan’s hair, he wasn’t done with him. Wei Ying’s body pulled back from his own briefly, but Lan Zhan had barely had time to recover when the familiar herbal scent of his body wash reached his nose, and a moment later, Wei Ying was pressing his washcloth to his skin.
He started at Lan Zhan’s neck and worked his way slowly across his shoulders, his arms, his chest, his stomach, down to his legs and feet, taking his sweet time and dragging each motion out gently and repetitively. Lan Zhan felt dazed, felt like he was floating as Wei Ying dragged the warm washcloth over his skin—he reminded himself sternly to focus on his breathing again as his shallow inhales certainly weren’t going to do anything to temper the warm, lightheaded feeling that was dampening his thoughts.
Then, when Wei Ying stood up again and needed to clean Lan Zhan’s back… he didn’t ask him to turn around. After adding a bit more soap to the cloth, he simply leaned in, pressed their stomachs and chests fully together as his arms wrapped around him and repeated the process.
Though now, as his hands gently rubbed over every inch of skin, his face hovered close to Lan Zhan’s… and after a moment, Wei Ying pressed his lips to the corner of Lan Zhan’s jaw.
Lan Zhan’s breath stuttered in his chest, his eyes stinging anew, and Wei Ying kissed him again and again… As his hands washed his back, Wei Ying scattered slow kisses all along his jaw line and cheek, down to his neck and collarbone, the softest, daintiest little presses of his lips to the skin. Before long, the careful kisses in combination with the gentle movement of his hands overwhelmed Lan Zhan, tugging him down like a current.
The movement wasn’t even fully conscious, felt more like he was just giving in rather than acting on his own; he quickly found his face pressed into the crook of Wei Ying’s neck, his arms wrapping around his back as he held him tightly to his chest.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying cooed softly as he pressed one last kiss to Lan Zhan’s ear. “Are you okay?”
Lan Zhan nodded against Wei Ying’s neck as he swallowed the tears in his throat, taking a slow breath in and out; he felt much more grounded when he could hold Wei Ying like this.
Wei Ying hummed softly, the sound sweet and melodic to Lan Zhan’s ears, and he nuzzled gently against the side of Lan Zhan’s head. “You’ve been working so hard lately, I wanted to do something nice for you,” he said, his tone warm and inviting as his hands continued to gently rub Lan Zhan’s back. “Does it feel good?”
He nodded once more and Wei Ying laughed softly, pausing in his washing to wrap his arms firmly around Lan Zhan. It was easier to breathe, easier to calm down with Wei Ying trapping him in a tight hug, and once Lan Zhan had gone half-limp against him, Wei Ying took a few more precious minutes finishing the task. He let his fingers knead more firmly into the muscles of Lan Zhan’s back as Lan Zhan felt more and more of his weight sinking into Wei Ying, a soft gratitude resting in the back of his mind that Wei Ying was strong enough to support him.
After the thorough washing, Wei Ying carefully untangled himself from Lan Zhan’s grasp. His hands moved to Lan Zhan’s face and neck… and he pressed their lips together. The kiss was delicate, only gentle, almost-familiar movements of their lips that lingered for a while longer as Lan Zhan softly shuddered his way through a few deep breaths.
With one last peck, Wei Ying finally pulled away and reached for the showerhead to rinse the soap from Lan Zhan's skin. The warm, floaty feeling lingered on the edges of Lan Zhan’s brain so powerfully that he could only follow Wei Ying’s guidance as he pulled him out of the shower and carefully patted him dry with a plush bath towel.
Wei Ying didn’t bother letting Lan Zhan recover. He gently tugged him to their bed and tucked the both of them in for the night, snuggling comfortably against his side and supplying Lan Zhan with a few more warm kisses before issuing him a sweet, “good night.”
Wei Ying tucked his head naturally into the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck and it took hardly any time at all for the soft, fuzzy static in Lan Zhan’s head to fade to black as he drifted easily to sleep.