Archive of Our Own

“When dealing with people, let us remember we are not dealing with creatures of logic. We are dealing with creatures of emotion.” - Dale Carnegie

February, Last Day of Fiscal Year 2019

“I mean, no one wants to be a customer service manager when they grow up, right?”

Wei Ying repeats the words in his head and decides that maybe his last gin and tonic was a mistake. Circling the ice in his glass, he resolutely ignores the side-eye glances between his new co-workers. Way to give a good first impression, Wei Ying. He’ll just have to forge ahead. He knows how to forge ahead like a fucking champ. There is no one better in this world at forging ahead in the middle of an awkward conversation than Wei “Forge Ahead” Ying.

It’s one of the reasons he’s so damn good at customer service, after all.

“I majored in art education,” Wei Ying says, taking another sip of his drink, forcing himself not to chew on the ice like he wants. Nervous energy and all that. “Jobs? Ha. Not if my life depended on it. But I did customer service part-time. So after two years, I went full-time. Cause, you know. Insurance and shit.”

And just enough money to survive. Even with each bump in his hourly rate, he stayed in the same cramped studio and still drives the same Honda Accord his foster parents gave him as a hand-me-down when he turned eighteen. But he’s a customer service manager now. He’s salaried. He’s… actually not quite sure what to do with the extra money left over at the end of the month. Put in money towards his 401k? Save for a condo? Wei Ying actually has enough in his checking account to start a seedling of a rainy-day fund, and that, quite frankly, is absolutely terrifying.

“Well, he’s not wrong.”

Wei Ying flashes a smile towards Luo Qingyang, at least he thinks that’s her name. He immediately decides she is his new best friend at work. He refuses to say work wife. Heteronormativity? In his workplace? That was one of the first questions he asked when he interviewed for the job. The company’s relationship with the LGBTQ community. Thankfully, they passed.

“I wanted to be an astronaut when I was six, not a training manager,” Luo Qingyang says.

“Dancer,” Wen Qing, the Workforce manager admits.

The two women and Wei Ying turn their attention to the other gentleman at the table. Lan Zhan, the Operations Manager, who leans back slightly in his chair, legs crossed at the knee. He’s basically the most beautiful person Wei Ying has ever seen in his life and somehow he’s supposed to get any work done in the office? The gods have severely overestimated his ability to concentrate near gorgeous people. Seriously. Is there even one feature that the man has that isn’t flawless?

“It was always expected I would go into business,” Lan Zhan says quietly. Wait, that didn’t feel quite right. It’s not that he’s quiet, it’s more like he just expects everyone to listen so there’s no need to raise his voice. Basically the opposite of Wei Ying. Wei Ying always needs to raise his voice to be heard. But that’s one of the consequences of growing up with a brother like Jiang Cheng.

“And here you are in operations,” Wei Ying says, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Without you, there is no business.”

Lan Zhan takes a sip of his water, the only one at the table who hasn’t had any alcohol tonight. Wei Ying wonders why. It’s a Friday night, time to let loose after a hard week. Granted, Wei Ying has had the opposite of a hard week, giving his notice at his old job early enough so that he could have a week off to relax. It’s been one of the best weeks of his life. Sleeping in late, playing video games, and not paying attention to his schedule at all. He’s not even nervous about his new job on Monday, since the first week is just training with all the rest of the new hires. And honestly? He’s looking forward to dealing with customer service for home furnishings instead of medical supplies.

Talking about used commodes and catheters was slowing draining his will to live.

“Customer Service is not the type of business my family envisioned for me,” Lan Zhan says.

Granted, Wei Ying is only a lowly customer service manager, but he has a fairly good idea how business works. If someone is actually good at operations, there’s a place for them, no matter what type of business or department. “So why stay?”

Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang share a look and Wei Ying wonders if he’s just touched on a nerve of some sort.

“I believe in Furniture Farm,” Lan Zhan says so seriously that Wei Ying needs to dig his nails into his thigh in order not to burst out laughing. I believe in Furniture Farm. A message for the ages.

But that doesn’t quite answer his question, does it? “Why? Why do you believe in Furniture Farm?” And seriously, what a stupid name for a company. Wei Ying really came close not applying, just because of the name. But Jin Zixuan works for the company and said it’s the real deal, so Wei Ying did, and got a nice bump in salary for his efforts.

“Oh here we go,” Luo Qingyang says with a full-body sigh. “Wei Ying, Lan Zhan can talk about social responsibility for hours.”

Lan Zhan gives Luo Qingyang just the slightest side-eye glance, so quick that Wei Ying wonders if he imagined it. “We are the most advanced home furnishing brand when it comes to environmentally friendly packaging. We are one of the first companies to stop sending unsolicited catalogs to potential customers. We only work with manufacturers who pay their workers a living wage,” Lan Zhan says. Now granted, Lan Zhan has been pretty quiet for most of the meal, not really contributing unless someone asked him a direct question. So maybe Wei Ying is judging this wrong, but even in his monotone, Lan Zhan sounds passionate, like he truly believes in what he’s saying. Wei Ying’s got to admit, it’s pretty fucking hot. “Our charity work aligns with my own values: supporting LGBTQ youths and working with people experiencing homelessness.”

Wei Ying decides to file Lan Zhan’s enthusiasm for supporting a LGBTQ charity for later. For reasons. Important business reasons.

“Well, damn, you’ve convinced me,” Wei Ying says. He didn’t know half of this, except about their charity work. It might be nice to work for a socially aware company instead of a company that uses So. Much. Plastic. Wei Ying understands why: accessibility and ease of use and safety but still. “Novel idea, working for a company you don’t hate.”

In response, Lan Zhan simply takes a sip of water. While Wei Ying traces the rim of his glass, he idly wonders what else Lan Zhan might get passionate about.

“So why do you work for Furniture Farm?” Wei Ying asks Wen Qing, wanting to change his focus from Lan Zhan.

“They let me tell people what to do,” Wen Qing says with a shrug. Wei Ying nods his head. That’s essentially Workforce’s job. Telling people what to do during the day. “I really like telling people what to do.”

“I’m assuming I’m next?” Luo Qingyang asks brightly. “It’s all about the maternity policy for me. Seriously, it’s amazing. I have every intention on getting knocked up again before the end of the year, and then y’all won’t see me for six months. I won’t think about the company once. Present company excluded, of course. Cause you all are cool.”

Wei Ying knows that she’s really talking about the other two at the table, but he still can’t help but feel a bit of warmth at being included. He didn’t really get a chance to bond with anyone at his old company, even after being there for two years. And now here he is, at a voluntary dinner welcoming him to the management team.

Wei Ying throws back the rest of his drink. He thinks he’s gonna like it here.

March, Fiscal Year 2020

Naturally, Lan Zhan is the first to arrive to the conference room.

This is standard operating procedure, as he adds a fifteen minute buffer into his calendar so that he is always ready for the weekly management meeting. This gives him a chance to prepare the conference room so that everyone is at their best when they meet Nie Mingjue, the VP of Finance, via video call. Lan Zhan always wants to give a good impression.

His first self-appointed task is to turn the wall-mounted monitor to the appropriate settings. Chances are that associates have been in here and messed with things. Associates always mess with things. This week, he is in luck, and things are exactly where they’re supposed to be.

Next, Lan Zhan sits down at his preferred spot at the conference table. His light blue Hydro Flask is full and he has a notebook and pen, ready to take notes in case the wireless signal goes out on his laptop. To his right, he has the mouse that will control the monitor so the managers can virtually meet with Nie Mingjue, who is based out of the corporate office, almost forty miles east of the Customer Service Center. Nie Mingjue only makes the trip in person maybe twice a year, which is understandable. The man has far more responsibilities than customer service.

Finally, he opens his laptop and navigates to his Google Drive.

For several years, Lan Zhan has been in charge of taking notes and updating the agenda for the manager meeting. This is not a burden for him; it makes the others more productive if they don’t have to worry about writing their own notes. The fact that none of the other managers actually enjoy taking notes helps, too. Lan Zhan always takes a certain satisfaction in sharing his Google Doc at the end of the meeting.

Wen Qing steps into the conference room five minutes before the start of the meeting. She’s usually at least a couple of minutes early. Luo Qingying generally arrives right at the start time, of which Lan Zhan does not approve. He will always be of the if you’re on time, you’re late variety.

The wild card this time is Wei Ying, who is now in his second week. Last week, he missed the meeting because of new hire training, where he learned how to navigate Furniture Farm’s systems. This week, Wei Ying is expected to attend.

Lan Zhan has hardly seen Wei Ying since the manager’s introduction dinner two weeks ago. Last week was understandable, as Wei Ying was training. This week, Wei Ying has barely been in his office, instead walking the floor, getting to know his direct reports. As Operations Manager, Lan Zhan only has seven direct reports, for which he is entirely grateful. His focus is systems and working with the corporate office. Wei Ying, on the other hand, being the Customer Service Manager, has ten supervisors and almost two hundred direct reports.

Two minutes before the start of the meeting, Lan Zhan navigates to the Google Hangout. Unsurprisingly, Nie Mingjue is not there yet. He tends to be a couple of minutes late to each meeting. He is also a vice-president, so Lan Zhan does not quite hold that against him

Much.

Three minutes after the official start of the meeting, there is no Nie Mingjue, but there is also no Wei Ying. This will not do. Lan Zhan has spent a great deal of time training — no, surely, encouraging is a more appropriate word — Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang to be on time to meetings. He refuses to let Wei Ying ruin that hard work. “I will find him,” Lan Zhan says, standing up from the conference table.

The obvious place to start looking is Wei Ying’s office, so Lan Zhan heads in that direction. Lan Zhan’s search ends early when he sees Wei Ying sitting on a table in one of the smaller conference rooms, laughing as he talks to Mo Xuanyu.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, hoping his voice sounds as stern as he feels inside, which is quite stern. “We have a meeting.”

“Duty calls,” Wei Ying says, hopping off of the table. He looks at Mo Xuanyu. “You gonna be okay?” Mo Xuanyu nods, and Wei Ying punches him on the shoulder.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan repeats himself, one hand clenching into a fist. He doesn’t say Nie Mingjue is probably waiting for them right now. But he would like to. “Meeting.”

“Keep me updated,” Wei Ying calls over his shoulder to Mo Xuanyu as he walks past Lan Zhan.

They start walking in-step, which annoys Lan Zhan for a reason he can’t explain. “This is one of the most important meetings of the week,” Lan Zhan starts.

“Dude, I get you’re punctual to a fault, but can you trust that if I’m late, I have a good reason? Mo Xuanyu’s mom is starting chemo and he’s the only caregiver. I needed to tell him about FMLA, okay?” Wei Ying says as they head to the conference room.

“You were laughing,” Lan Zhan says. His tone is possibly more accusatory than he means to be, but only because Lan Zhan thinks back to being six years old and asking Lan Huan if he could shave his head so he would match their mother. These are not memories he likes to relive at work.

“To try to keep him from crying, yeah,” Wei Ying says. “Hard to talk to customers on the phone when you’re bawling your eyes out.”

Lan Zhan admits that Wei Ying has a point. Emergencies come up, and even Nie Mingjue would understand Wei Ying being late to an important meeting if he’s putting an associate first. Nie Mingjue might even encourage it.

“Sorry I’m late,” Wei Ying says cheerfully as he sits down in the chair next to Lan Zhan’s. “Oh shit, you brought your laptop. Do I need my laptop for this?”

“I take notes for the group,” Lan Zhan says. “I will share the document with you after the meeting.”

“Sweet, not taking notes is basically the best,” Wei Ying says, turning his chair to face the monitor.

Nie Mingjue appears shortly after that and efficiently goes through the agenda. Nothing too troublesome this time of year. Fire drills, getting quotes on a new chat platform, issues with various direct ship vendors. A fairly typical meeting.

“Free space time,” Nie Mingjue says, leaning back in his chair. “Anyone want to talk about something not on the agenda?”

Wei Ying raises his hand. “Yeah, I’ve got something, if that’s okay,” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan lets out a slow breath. Of course it’s okay. Nie Mingjue just said it’s okay. Why would Wei Ying think it’s anything other than okay? “Can we talk about the standard response emails for our email team?”

This catches Lan Zhan’s attention. Ten years ago, he started on the email team, working part-time while he was in college. He didn’t really need the job, but he liked the excuse of not going out on Friday or Saturday night because he had to work. “What about the emails?”

“Have you read them?” Wei Ying asks with a laugh. “They’re pretty awful. Way over the top. We apologize far too much and don’t get me started on the formal language.”

Lan Zhan takes a breath, interlacing his fingers together and glares at Wei Ying. “I wrote all of the standard responses.”

“Well, you should know, contractions are a thing,” Wei Ying says, not even having the decency to look abashed at his statement. “People like contractions.”

“Emails should be business formal-”

“They read like they were written by a grandma with plastic covers over her floral sofa and doilies on every possible horizontal surface, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. To Lan Zhan’s surprise, Wei Ying actually sounds serious about this, not like he’s making a joke at Lan Zhan’s expense. “These are not emails we want going to our target customer.”

“Which is?” Lan Zhan asks. He knows exactly the type of customer Furniture Farm covets. He sat in all of those meetings with marketing and creative, wondering why in the world they were wasting his time. Wei Ying, on the other hand, has worked for the company for seven business days.

Wei Ying leans back in his chair, crossing his legs at the knee. Lan Zhan tries not to notice just how nice those legs actually are. He fails.

“The discerning decorator. Late twenties, early thirties. Maybe getting their first home. Maybe with kids so we can try to grow the kids business.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Wen Qing says, tapping her fingers on the conference table.

Nie Mingjue clears his throat. “Gentleman, do I need to be here for this? I truly don’t give a rat’s ass about the team’s standard email responses. Do what you think is best.”

And without another word, Nie Mingjue ends the call. Lan Zhan stares at the monitor, trying to figure out how to reply to Wei Ying. He hates that Wei Ying is right, that he’s somehow learned the name that marketing has given their target consumer.

“I’ve got another meeting,” Luo Qingyang says, standing up. “Lan Zhan, you’ll share the notes?”

Lan Zhan nods and turns back to Wei Ying. He will not think of the hours and hours and hours he spent hand-crafting one hundred and twenty-seven standard responses five years ago. He will not think of the amount of time he lobbied the Operations Manager at the time to give him the responsibility of re-writing all of the standard responses. And he will certainly not think of the fact that he knows that Wei Ying is probably correct.

“You two have fun arguing about emails,” Wen Qing says as she heads towards the door. “Just tell me if my team needs to do anything.”

Thankfully, Wen Qing leaves the conference room door open behind her. The last thing Lan Zhan wants is to have a private meeting with Wei Ying.

“You know the worst part of the emails?” Wei Ying asks.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Lan Zhan says, trying not to sound too resigned. He knows exactly what the worst part of the emails are. It’s why he’s thought about creating a team so he can address the issue. But he wants to do this on his own time, not because Wei Ying brings it up at a manager meeting where he couldn’t even bother to show up on time.

“Lan Zhan, they’re not formatted for mobile. I read the stats. More than sixty percent of our customers read their emails on their phones, and instead of nicely formatted emails with like bullet-points and shit, they get a rambling email from grandma.”

Wei Ying is absolutely correct and Lan Zhan cannot figure out why it annoys him so much. “When I wrote the responses, marketing was targeting a different audience. Mother of the bride types, wanting to grow the registry business.”

Wei Ying taps the side of his nose. “I saw our registry business has kinda gone into a free fall.”

“Industry wide,” Lan Zhan says, finding himself in teacher mode without even realizing it. “We are not the only home furnishing company with the issue. There are many alternate registry options these days. Also, cash is an increasingly popular wedding gift.”

“Honeymoon registries are the best,” Wei Ying says, perking up in his seat. Lan Zhan pushes the sudden urge to find out if Wei Ying is single deep down into his core, where he will ignore it for the rest of his natural life. There is no question that Wei Ying is good looking. Certainly he has a partner who also finds him good looking. “Yeah, they take away our business, but how else can I give my friends the chance to go scuba diving or bungee jumping? If I ever get married, I’m totally doing a honeymoon registry.” Wei Ying glances out the window, which looks out over the parking lot. “Granted, in order to get married, I suppose I should find a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but that’s a problem for future Wei Ying.”

Well, then. Question answered. Lan Zhan just isn’t sure what he wants to do with that information.

“I’m not saying we need to fix things today,” Wei Ying says, sounding almost apologetic. “But we’ve got a couple of slow months now, right? Maybe we can talk about it another time.”

Lan Zhan is an adult. He has legally been an adult for ten years. Why he has the desire to pout is absolutely beyond him. It’s ridiculous. He’s being absolutely ridiculous and he’s fairly certain it’s all Wei Ying’s fault. So he does the only thing that makes sense. He nods while staring at his laptop screen like a lifeline.

“Great,” Wei Ying says, jumping out of his chair. “I’ve got to go meet with the leads now. Do you know, they really have the crappiest job in the entire customer service center? All they do is get yelled at all day long. It must suck. We need to be nicer to them.”

Wei Ying seems to be talking simply to hear the sound of his own voice as he leaves the conference room, which Lan Zhan can easily ignore. What Lan Zhan can’t ignore is the way he stares at Wei Ying’s ass as he walks away.

This… this could become a problem.

April, Fiscal Year 2020

Lan Zhan stares at his computer screen, specifically at the little button on the communications interface, the one which will allow him to place an outbound call, and thinks, I can do this.

He has a Bachelor's degree in business. He’s given presentations in front of hundreds of co-workers. He’s performed cello solos with various community orchestras. There is every reason to believe that he can do this.

He can’t do this.

Throwing on his cardigan, Lan Zhan leaves his office to get a glass of water. It’s only seven minutes before his scheduled stand and stretch time, so his schedule won’t be thrown off too much. Looking at his computer screen simply isn’t an option any more. 

Of course, Wei Ying is in the kitchen, sitting at a table with several associates, talking animatedly with his hands. His beautiful hands that Lan Zhan refuses to think about during work hours because if he did, he’d never get any work done. Just one thing on a list of Wei Ying’s physical attributes that Lan Zhan finds attractive. 

And isn’t allowed to think about. At work.

Other body parts on the list: his eyes, that freckle right below his lower lip, and when Lan Zhan really wants to torture himself, Wei Ying’s ass. Lan Zhan seems to be torturing himself a lot lately. Daily, almost.

“Lan Zhan, hi,” Wei Ying says with a smile that Lan Zhan quickly relegates to the list.

The childish, mulish part of Lan Zhan’s brain wants to ignore him. Wants to get his water and then go back to his office and close the door. Make the phone call so he can get on with his life. But the part of him that thinks Wei Ying is the sun to Lan Zhan’s shadow wants his attention. Any attention. So he simply nods as he stands in front of the water cooler, filling up his Hydro Flask.

The worst part of Lan Zhan’s infatuation with Wei Ying is he’s not quite sure when it started. To quote his favorite, Jane Austen, I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. One day, he simply realized while he wanted to be annoyed with Wei Ying, he just — wasn’t. Quite the opposite, really. Lan Zhan was enthralled with him.

“Break time’s over, kids,” Wei Ying says as he stands up. Lan Zhan tries not to scoff; it’s ridiculous for Wei Ying to call the associates sitting at that table kids, when most of them are quite older than him. Just another quirk Lan Zhan wants to be annoying but finds enduring instead. “Lan Zhan, wait up. I’ll walk you back to your office.”

Lan Zhan huffs but slows his step just enough for Wei Ying to catch up. As they walk, Wei Ying prattles on, seemingly continuing the conversation from the table without even needing Lan Zhan to be aware of exactly what was being said. He certainly didn’t watch This is Us last night. As he listens to Wei Ying’s voice, Lan Zhan takes a deep breath, and his shoulders relax. Only slightly, but it’s enough.

Once they reach his office, Lan Zhan gives Wei Ying a nod. It’s not like they won’t see each other again today; there’s a meeting about international orders later this afternoon which they’ll both be attending. He walks inside and a moment passes before he realizes Wei Ying has followed him.

The office door closes. Lan Zhan stops. He and Wei Ying are officially in a closed door meeting. His eyes glance at the clock, noting the time for documentation purposes. No matter who enters his office, if the door closes, Lan Zhan documents. He has a spreadsheet.

“What are you-”

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to throw up,” Wei Ying says as he sets himself down on one of the chairs in front of Lan Zhan’s desk. Though sitting might be the wrong word. Perched? Whatever it is, he’s sitting on the back of the chair, looking like he might tip over if there’s a slight breeze, instead of on the chair like a rational human being. But then again, Lan Zhan would never accuse Wei Ying of being rational.

Lan Zhan goes over Wei Ying’s words in his head and decides to look stern. He would never be that unprofessional outside of his office. “I do not,” he says finally.

“Well, no, obviously,” Wei Ying says, rolling his eyes. “But something is bothering you. I can tell. What’s wrong?”

His chest clenches slightly. Wei Ying can tell. Wei Ying can tell he’s upset. No one, outside of Lan Huan, can ever tell that Lan Zhan is upset. That is on purpose and design.

And yet…

“I have to talk to a customer today,” Lan Zhan says, keeping his voice quiet, wondering if Wei Ying will understand the severity of the situation. “Normally, I would assign this to a supervisor-”

“But they’re all on that stupid off-site,” Wei Ying says, tapping the side of his nose. “Why you? I usually handle the customer bullshit.”

“Fraud.”

Wei Ying winces. “Ouch. Those are the worst. I dealt with fraud calls at my last gig. But not the end of the world, right?”

“I need to call them on the phone. An email isn’t sufficient,” Lan Zhan says, chastising himself as he says the words. Wei Ying won’t understand. He loves talking on the phone with customers. Even the angry ones, the ones who yell. Wei Ying talks to them all and somehow manages to calm them down enough so that a supervisor can resolve things. More than once Lan Zhan has heard Wei Ying refer to a disgruntled customer as ‘his new best friend.’

“Okay, so call them. I like to get the angry calls out of the way first thing in the morning so I don’t have to deal with them any more,” Wei Ying says with a shrug. It’s a casual, dismissive shrug, a shrug that tells Lan Zhan that Wei Ying has no idea how upsetting this is to him. It hurts, but Wei Ying has no reason to think otherwise.

So he might as well tell Wei Ying the truth.

“I have never spoken to a customer on the phone before,” Lan Zhan admits, closing his eyes.

“Are you shitting me?” Wei Ying asks. The words sound harsh, but there is nothing but kindness is Wei Ying’s voice. “You’ve been in customer service for ten years, you’re a manager, and you’ve never spoken to a customer over the phone?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. It’s ridiculous, he knows. “I was on the email team when I started here,” he says, hearing a slight defiance in his voice. It’s his own fault, he knows. When he joined management, he kept finding excuses not to call customers when needed, citing the need for supervisors to get valuable experience. There is a reason he exceeds expectations for his delegation skills. “Once I graduated college, I immediately applied for the operations team.”

“And there’s no need to call customers in operations except for fraud,” Wei Ying says, sliding down and sitting in the chair like a normal human being. “How do you want to handle this? Want to practice before you make the call? Role-play?”

At the word role-play Lan Zhan’s ears go pink, he’s sure of it. The suggestion isn’t a bad one. He’s portrayed customers in training situations for associates before. However, those always have a script and tell him exactly how he should act. Without a script, without a sure way of knowing what exactly he should say, Lan Zhan feels completely lost.

Wei Ying claps his hands together once. “Better idea. You got the order up?” Lan Zhan nods and turns his laptop around, showing Wei Ying the case. The gentleman in question has placed seventy-five orders in the last three months, a combination of warehouse and store pickups. Then within a week of each order, the items are returned in poor condition. The only good thing is that the customer chats to schedule the returns and Lan Zhan has records of every single one. “What’s the end game?”

“To let him know that he is no longer allowed to return used goods. If we can take it a step farther and get him to admit what he is doing, I can get the asset protection team to block him from the website.”

With a decisive nod, Wei Ying holds out his hand. “Headset, please.”

Before he can stop himself, Lan Zhan hands Wei Ying the headset, who puts it on immediately as he stands up. That’s my headset on his head, Lan Zhan internally screams, which is just about the least helpful thing he can think of at this moment. So he shuts off that train of thought and watches Wei Ying as he goes through an exaggerated set of stretches.

Then he does something Lan Zhan does not expect. He grabs Lan Zhan’s mouse and clicks.

“Hi there, my name Wei Ying. I’m a customer service manager from Furniture Farm. May I speak to Beau, please?”

Wei Ying was calling the customer for Lan Zhan. Wei Ying was calling the customer for Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan can only stare. He’s never actually heard Wei Ying on the phone before. Wei Ying is standing at the start of the call, talking with his hands, of course he’s talking with his hands. He makes a joke with the customer. Some small talk. If Lan Zhan didn’t know any better, he’d think Wei Ying is talking with an old friend.

Then Wei Ying sits down and starts typing. After a moment, he crooks his finger over at Lan Zhan, clearly asking him to come over. There’s a notepad up on the laptop screen with a relevant question. Lan Zhan turns the laptop towards himself to type the answer, all while Wei Ying keeps the customer talking. 

“I know, I know. And I hate that you’ve had to experience that so many times. But, Beau, there is a reason why we ask our customers to inspect the pieces before they take them home.”

Three minutes later, the call is over.

Wei Ying takes off the headset. “These calls may be recorded for quality and training purposes, bitch.” Lan Zhan can’t help but let out a puff of air. Wei Ying lights up and hands him the headset. “Got ‘em. He admitted using the furniture for staging then returning everything.”

All Lan Zhan can do is stare down at the headset in his hands. There’s a single bead of sweat near the foam ear piece. Just the thought makes Lan Zhan lick his lips. “Thank you,” he says softly, hyper aware of the anxiety that has just been lifted from his shoulders. He’ll be able to submit the call recording to asset protection. They’ll block the customer from the website and they’ll never have to deal with him again.

“Anytime,” Wei Ying says. “I love dealing with assholes like that, the ones convinced they’re smarter than you just cause you work in customer service.”

Lan Zhan snorts, just a tiny little bit, in agreement. He’s dealt with plenty of those types of customers before through email. Just not over the phone.

Wei Ying glances at the clock. “I’ve got a meeting with a couple of the leads,” he says as he stands up. “We should do this again sometime.”

“You are welcome to make all of my calls from here on out,” Lan Zhan says seriously. It’s the truth. If Lan Zhan can somehow go his entire career without talking to a customer on the phone, he will gladly do so.

Instead of answering, Wei Ying smiles and leaves the office with a quick salute. Lan Zhan tries not to stare at Wei Ying’s ass as he walks away before opening up his documentation spreadsheet. He needs to create a tab for Wei Ying. His fingers hover over the keyboard as he tries to remember what time their closed door meeting started.

For the life of him, he can’t remember. All he can remember is the quiet confidence in Wei Ying’s voice as he carefully trapped the customer into saying what the company needed to hear. All with a customer he hadn’t even known existed five minutes earlier. All because Lan Zhan had to make a phone call that he didn’t want to make and somehow Wei Ying picked up on that.

Fuck.

May, Fiscal Year 2020

Associate engagement is the fucking worst.

Like anyone stays at a job because management brings in the occasional treat. All it does is let the higher ups think they're doing a wonderful job motivating people while making the associates wish the money going towards 'ice cream day!' or 'food truck day!' went to their paychecks instead.

And now Wei Ying has been tasked with figuring out a summer full of associate engagement days. Like he said. The worst.

That's when he sees the gchat from Lan Zhan.

Now, it's not uncommon for Lan Zhan to gchat him. Because, well, the man's polite and generally replies to most of Wei Ying's messages on a regular basis. After almost two and a half months on the job, Wei Ying has pretty much figured out Lan Zhan's tolerance when it comes to sending him memes and jokes and the occasional article regarding customer service best practices, just to mix things up. 

Because he’s a professional like that.

But in all that time, Lan Zhan has never initiated a solo chat. Every so often he’ll start something in the group management chat. Never just to Wei Ying. Until today.

Lan Zhan: Wei Ying, are you available at this time?

Wei Ying leans back in his chair and cracks his knuckles. Well, well, well, what have we here? He makes a valiant attempt at suppressing his grin, but fails. Miserably. He’s too excited. Lan Zhan is reaching out to him! This could be a whole new dynamic to their being colleagues. Maybe someday the man might even send him a meme or something. Hey, a guy can dream, right?

Wei Ying: Depends. What do you need?

There. A perfect opening shot. Lets Lan Zhan know he’s working, but not on something that can’t be interrupted for any bullshit of a reason. One needs no excuse to stop thinking about associate engagement.

Lan Zhan: Please go check on Qin Su immediately.

Wei Ying bites the inside of his cheek and wracks his brain. He still can’t place everyone’s face to a name, not with two hundred associates, but after a moment, it comes to him. Chat team. Quiet. Tends to keep to herself and doesn’t make much of a fuss. She’s vaguely related to Meng Yao in HR, but he can’t remember the specifics. He’s not sure why exactly he should check on Qin Su, but Lan Zhan doesn’t make requests like this often, or well, ever, so it doesn’t hurt to check it out.

Wei Ying: On it

Not like he’s got anything better to do. Associate engagement can eat his entire ass.

Wei Ying walks with purpose, the type of walk where people give him a brisk nod as he passes instead of trying to stop him to shoot the breeze. Shame. He loves shooting the breeze. But Lan Zhan asked him to do something, and damnit, he’s gonna get it done. Two minutes later, he’s at the chat cave, the row of cubicles where all the chatters sit. It’s three in the afternoon, not a prime chatting time like customers' lunch hours or right after dinner, so it’s only Qin Su and Daniel Roth sitting there.

He’s about to crack a joke but then he sees Qin Su’s face. She’s typing, but shaking her head and looking like she’s about to cry. His heart clenches. No one, no one, is allowed to make his associates cry. That’s what he’s here for. Customers can rant and scream and tell him he’s an idiot any day of the week as long as they leave his team alone.

Within moments, he’s kneeling next to Qin Su, reading the conversation on her monitor as quickly as he can. He sees the word cock and pussy and that’s enough. “Could you push your chair back for me, Qin Su?” he asks, trying to keep his voice gentle.

She doesn’t hesitate, lifting her hands from the keyboard like they have been scalded, and pushes her chair across the aisle. Wei Ying hears Daniel mutter, “You okay?” but Qin Su makes no response.

With a few clicks, Wei Ying gives the fucker harassing his associate the language warning and ends the chat, putting her on away. “Qin Su, you got your gmail up? Can I gchat the IP address to myself?”

“Okay,” Qin Su says, her voice full of tears.

Wei Ying copies the IP address and goes to Qin Su’s Chrome window. He hates violating her work privacy like this, but the less she needs to deal with this the better. A moment later, the IP address is in his own gchat. “Let’s take a walk,” he says quietly. It won’t be long; the last thing she needs is a man telling her everything is going to be okay. But he needs to do something.

The chat cave is close to the kitchen, so Wei Ying brings her there and fills up a thin plastic cup of water. Handing it to her, he asks, “First time getting harassed like that?”

“At work? Yeah,” Qin Su says and Wei Ying somehow manages not to flinch at the implications there.

“Next time any customer makes you feel uncomfortable, you end the chat, okay? I’d rather you be safe than have their business,” Wei Ying says, keeping his voice low so no one in the kitchen can hear. What he says is the truth. He’s thankful he works for a company that actually believes that, too. The first time he told a customer that he didn’t care if the man never shopped with them again because of the way he treated his team was one of the top five moments of his life.

Qin Su nods, staring at the floor and Wei Ying decides his usefulness is at an end. Doesn’t keep him from wanting to give her a parting gift. “Take fifteen minutes, starting now. Extra break for you today, okay? I’ll get your schedule updated.”

She walks away without a word, which is what he expects. So he waves at the associates taking their lunch break in the kitchen and stalks to Lan Zhan’s office, so they can have a little chat.

Pun absolutely intended. 

Wei Ying closes the door behind him and like always, Lan Zhan glances at the clock on his wall. He’s heard about Lan Zhan’s documentation system, one that would make HR weep in gratitude if it was ever needed. Not that Wei Ying can ever picture Lan Zhan getting in trouble with HR. For anything. He’s far too perfect to ever get in trouble with HR.

“I’m gonna gchat you an IP address,” Wei Ying says, taking out his cell from his back pocket. “I need you to ban that fucker from ever chatting us again.”

“Already done,” Lan Zhan says, closing his laptop.

All Wei Ying can do is stare for a moment before he finds his words. “Okay, you’ve got to give me more than that, you know that, right?” When Lan Zhan simply stares down at his desk, Wei Ying starts laughing. “You were creeping on the chat, weren’t you?”

Lan Zhan grimaces, but looks Wei Ying in the eye. “We encourage live quality assurance checks, Wei Ying,” he says, sounding far too prim for someone who just had to read a chat full of naughty words.

“We sure do, and it’s absolutely the worst part of my job,” Wei Ying says. Which is the fucking truth. Listening to calls and reading chats as they happen in real time make him want to crawl under his desk and never leave. “But you saw the chat. Why reach out to me?”

“You are her manager-”

“What if I wasn’t in my office? Or if I ignored my gchats?”

“You never ignore your gchats.”

“Well, yeah, you’ve got me there,” Wei Ying says with a laugh. He likes knowing what’s going on around him, okay? Sometimes having an office is a curse. Like, he gets it. Some conversations he has with other managers and associates need to be behind closed doors. But he misses being in a cubicle surrounded by other customer service associates, listening to one-sided conversations and joking around between calls. “I don’t check them in the bathroom though, Lan Zhan. What if I was in the bathroom? What would you have done then?”

“If you were,” Lan Zhan swallows, “indisposed, I would have spoken to Qin Su myself. But as your office is closer to the chat cave, I decided there would be no harm to reaching out to you first, as you would be best in handling the situation.”

Wei Ying repeats the words in his head. That’s a compliment. Right? He’s pretty sure that’s a compliment. He rolls them over his brain again. Yep. Definitely a compliment. Lan Zhan just gave him a compliment. Holy shit.

Oh.

Oh no.

He can already feel the chemicals being released from his brain and forming the beginning of a crush. Why is his brain like this? Stupid chemicals. Once, Wei Ying looked up the actual chemical names because he was curious but for the life of him, he can’t remember what they were called. All he can focus on is Lan Zhan and the way he’s staring intently at Wei Ying.

Fuuuuck.

Wei Ying stands up, suddenly needing to be in his own office and behind his desk right now. This very second. “Appreciate it,” he says, because leaving without saying another word would be rude and then maybe Lan Zhan might have second thoughts about the compliment he just gave Wei Ying, and he can’t have that, now can he? “Well, I’ve got some associate engagement days to plan, so I won’t keep you. Thanks for the heads up about Qin Su.”

He turns without giving Lan Zhan a chance to respond, almost making it to the door. Well, his hand was on the handle and that almost counts as an escape.

“Wei Ying.”

Oh, he likes the way Lan Zhan says his name. Why did it take Wei Ying so long to realize that? Yeah, there is a greater than zero chance Wei Ying is going to have inappropriate thoughts about Lan Zhan tonight. Yep, yep. And somehow tomorrow he’s gonna have to look the man in the eye. Work crushes are the worst.  

Without turning completely, Wei Ying looks back over his shoulder. “Yeah, Lan Zhan?” Oh, he likes the way he says Lan Zhan’s name, too. That’s even worse. It’s the worstest.

“Since becoming the operations manager, I have kept track of the associate engagement days we have had. The activity and the general response.”

“Shit, really?” Wei Ying says, turning around. Lan Zhan’s laptop is open again and he’s typing. Wei Ying’s mouth opens as he tries to figure out exactly what to say. Lan Zhan’s love affair with spreadsheets is legendary around the office. “This I’ve got to see.”

“I just shared the spreadsheet with you,” Lan Zhan says. “You will find that renting a popcorn machine for movie theater popcorn has been very popular in the past.”

“Oh damn, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Wei Ying says. That actually sounds kinda fun, picturing himself manning the machine and getting to talk to everyone as he fills bags of popcorn. He might even be able to pick up the machine himself during work hours. Submitting the mileage as a work expense, of course. “Thanks. That’ll be a big help.”

“Of course,” Lan Zhan says. He looks down at his desk. “If you find you need other ideas for associate engagement, I would be willing to brainstorm with you.”

Wait, what? Okay, Lan Zhan’s been in management long enough that he knows that associate engagement is the worst. And Wei Ying’s been in management long enough for Lan Zhan to know that Wei Ying knows that associate engagement is the worst. And he’s still offering to help? Plus the whole chat thing with Qin Su? What is going on?

“I’ll let you know,” Wei Ying says with a nod. He tries for a decisive nod, like the one Lan Zhan uses all the time. But Wei Ying is pretty sure he doesn’t have the jaw line to pull it off, so he gives a quick salute to cover all his bases.

Lan Zhan nods back, so maybe Wei Ying didn’t give him the worst nod in the world? Like, maybe they can be nod buddies now. They’ll pass in the hallway and give each other nods that have meanings behind them. Intent. Though Wei Ying’s pretty sure their nods will have very different meanings, like the difference between I acknowledge your existence compared to I want you to rail me through the fucking floor.

Details.

June, Fiscal Year 2020

“Hey, can I borrow you for twenty minutes or so?”

Lan Zhan looks up from his research — it’s time to seek out a new quality assurance platform — and sees Wei Ying standing in the doorway. He’s not inviting himself inside like he usually does, plopping into one of the office chairs. “I am available,” Lan Zhan says, wondering what he’s getting himself into by agreeing.

“My office,” Wei Ying says with a jerk of his head. Lan Zhan locks his laptop and quietly follows.

Wei Ying grabs one of his guest chairs and starts to pull it next to his own desk chair. Surprisingly, Wei Ying is sitting up ramrod straight with almost perfect posture, tenseness thrumming through his entire body. It’s a far cry from how Wei Ying usually slouches during meetings. “Close the door, please,” Wei Ying says. All Lan Zhan can do is obey.

Lan Zhan can sense his brow furrowing. Wei Ying doesn’t sound like Wei Ying. At all. Lan Zhan tries to go through the management chat in his head to possibly pinpoint what might be wrong. Nothing comes to mind. Things have been quiet today. “Wei Ying?”

Wei Ying tugs on his ponytail, and Lan Zhan immediately goes to sit down on the chair next to him, desperately trying not to think of all the times he’s imagined himself doing that exact same move. “I’ve got to fire someone,” he says and Lan Zhan can hear the bitterness in his voice. “I need—”

“A witness?”

“Yeah, you know the drill, I’m sure,” Wei Ying says, moving his mouse. “I just need to get this over with.”

Lan Zhan wonders which associate it is. “Dependability?” he asks, citing the most common reason they let associates go.

“Conduct,” Wei Ying says with a shake of his head. “Wang Lingjiao. We’ll be on speaker. You don’t need to say anything.”

The name is familiar but Lan Zhan can’t place the face. “She just started working from home, did she not?”

Wei Ying simply nods as he starts to dial. A moment later, the phone rings. Lan Zhan puts his hands under his thighs, and hopes the conversation doesn’t become confrontational. If Wang Lingjiao is getting fired for a conduct violation, she’s already been suspended, so she most likely knows the outcome. In the ten years that Lan Zhan has worked for Furniture Farm, no one has ever been unsuspended and allowed back to work. Every single associate has been let go.

Hello? Mister Wei, is that you?

Lan Zhan can’t quite read Wei Ying’s face as he starts to talk. “Hey, Wang Lingjiao. I’ve got Lan Zhan here next to me. Thank you for your patience as we investigated the situation,” he says. The words sound stilted and wrong. There is none of the joy that Lan Zhan is becoming increasingly dependent on in Wei Ying’s voice. That’s when Lan Zhan realizes that Wei Ying is reading a messily written script on a post-it note.

Without thinking, Lan Zhan puts his hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder, to give him a bit of support. Wei Ying freezes at the touch, but just as Lan Zhan is going to let go, sure he’s just crossed a line, Wei Ying leans closer towards him. Lan Zhan leaves his hand, trying not to enjoy the solid feel of Wei Ying’s shoulder under his palm. As he’s firing someone.

Lan Zhan is a horrible person. And yet his hand doesn’t move.

“I know you’ve denied any wrongdoing, but the Facebook Live post was seen by a number of people-”

Are you shitting me? You’re really firing me over a stupid post? Do you know who my boyfriend is? He’s a supervisor. He should be the manager, not you. You think you can just waltz in and take over? You’re nothing —

Wei Ying’s eyes are closed tight now. “Because of this, we’ve decided to terminate your employment with Furniture Farm. Your remote credentials have been revoked. If you have further questions, you’re welcome to talk to the corporate HR team. Thank you.”

Wei Ying ends the call and buries his head in his arms. “ Fuck.”

“What did she do?” Lan Zhan asks. He’s not really curious, not in the least. If HR decided that the associate needed to be fired, he has no doubt that she needed to be fired. But clearly he feels bad about the situation and Lan Zhan is very aware talking tends to help Wei Ying.

“So dumb, Lan Zhan,” he says, still hiding in the crook of his arms. Thanks to his hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder, Lan Zhan can feel, not just see him take a deep breath. Wei Ying sits up straight then and Lan Zhan removes his hand, placing it back under his thigh, to keep him from getting any more ideas.

“Conduct dismissals usually are.”

Wei Ying lets out a dry laugh at that, not much more than a puff of breath. “This one is beyond dumb, though. She went onto Facebook Live, saying how much she loved working from home.”

“Many associates enjoy working from home,” Lan Zhan says, wondering when the fireable offense takes place. “What else?”

“She had a shirtless man in the background behind her, who I’m pretty sure was Wen Chao, and she was smoking a joint,” Wei Ying says, shaking his head.

Lan Zhan feels like he is missing something. “Marijuana is legal now-”

“Ten years too late for me to get any use out of it,” Wei Ying says with a snort. Lan Zhan relaxes, just slightly. If Wei Ying’s laughing now, truly laughing, he’ll be okay. “I could care less if she smokes pot, but HR does care if she’s smoking during her shift. You could hear the chat dings in the background of the video.”

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed,” Wei Ying says, shaking his head. “Such a stupid way to get fired. Like, all she had to do was not overshare on social media and she’d still have a job.”

“That is why I hardly use social media,” Lan Zhan says. Which isn’t entirely true. He has the obligatory Facebook account where he never really posts. Or checks, really. But he does have an Instagram account where he follows most of the major zoos and aquariums across the world. And as many rabbit sanctuaries he can find. That account isn’t under his real name, though, instead using the alias Hanguang-Jun, an old nickname.

No one will ever know about his Instagram account.

“Is… Is that why you never accepted my friend request on Facebook? I know I probably should have asked first, but I saw that almost everyone on the management team had friended each other, so when you showed up in my recommended list, I figured why not?”

Wei Ying sent him a friend request? It takes all of Lan Zhan’s effort not to pull out his phone and find the Facebook app which he’s opened maybe twice in his life to accept the request this very minute. “I rarely post anything,” Lan Zhan says, which is the truth. “I would probably be a very boring Facebook friend to have.”

Wei Ying blows air through his lips. “Not possible. You’re Lan Zhan. ”

The worst part about a compliment like that is the casualness. Like Wei Ying has no idea how with five little words, he didn’t just completely tilt Lan Zhan’s world off its axis. Lan Zhan is not all that interesting of a person. He knows this. He works in customer service. He plays cello in a community orchestra and occasionally will play in the pit for various community theatre groups. His only real social outlet is a game night at his brother’s condo once a month. His favorite hobby is reading. And he loves spreadsheets more than what is a socially acceptable amount.

And yet Wei Ying apparently doesn’t think he’s boring.

“I’ll accept your friend request tonight,” Lan Zhan says, already wondering how much time he can devote to going through Wei Ying’s page this evening. He has a sneaking suspicion Wei Ying’s page will be the opposite of his. Full of photos and comments and not curated at all. Just full of Wei Ying’s everyday life. Lan Zhan can’t wait to see for himself.

Wei Ying beams at him and Lan Zhan wants.

Even as he beams, Lan Zhan notices that Wei Ying also shivers. “You’re cold.”

“Freaking freezing, Mister Biggsleworth,” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan keeps his face neutral, not understanding the reference. Probably some meme he isn’t aware of. He only just now understands the *frysquints* meme. “You didn’t get that at all, did you? Austin Powers? It’s an oldie, but a goodie.”

Lan Zhan simply shakes his head. He refuses to be ashamed of his lack of pop culture knowledge. “That was a movie series, I believe?”

“Yep, and I recently rewatched a couple and hoo-boy, lemme tell you, they did not age well,” Wei Ying says. “But yes, I’m cold.”

“The building tends to run quite cool during the summer,” Lan Zhan tells him. “Most employees keep a light jacket or a sweater at their desks.”

Wei Ying seems to look almost longingly at Lan Zhan’s own sweater. “Or a cardigan?” Wei Ying asks. “You wear that a lot.”

Perhaps he’s about to make a mistake. But Wei Ying just had to fire someone and he gave Lan Zhan a compliment. Perhaps this is simply a way to return the favor. For once in his life, he stops overthinking and takes off his cardigan. “Here. You can wear this.”

“Shit, really? But Lan Zhan, it has elbow patches. My street cred,” Wei Ying says, even as he takes the cardigan from Lan Zhan’s hands. Fortunately, Lan Zhan manages not to touch Wei Ying’s hands, because if their hands did brush? Lan Zhan isn’t entirely sure he’d be able to let go.

“As you said, I wear this a lot. The patches reinforce a potential weak spot,” Lan Zhan says. He has absolutely no idea if that’s true or not. He just really liked the look of this cardigan when he saw it browsing for sustainable clothing online one day. Light grey with elbow patches. It’s a perfect sweater. “Increases the longevity.”

Wei Ying actually seems to think about that for a moment before shrugging. “My old job used to have what we called the hoodie of solitude. If someone wore the hoodie and had the hood up? That meant they wanted to be left alone,” Wei Ying says with a laugh. “This can be the communal sweater of warmth.” 

Lan Zhan blinks. Communal indicated that Wei Ying might borrow his cardigan again at some point. Lan Zhan tries not to think about Wei Ying wearing his cardigan around the office, maybe in the kitchen or various meetings. Other workers in the office knowing that it’s Lan Zhan’s cardigan that Wei Ying wears. That they share.

Wei Ying puts on the cardigan, temporarily shorting out the circuits in Lan Zhan’s brain.

Wei Ying is wearing his cardigan. His cardigan. It’s slightly too big on him, the sleeves a little too long, but Lan Zhan could stare at this for the rest of the day and not regret a single moment.

“Better already,” Wei Ying says, putting his hands in the pockets of the sweater. Lan Zhan feels his ears warm as Wei Ying gives him a grin. “Thank you. I’ll make sure to give it back eventually.”

Before Lan Zhan can say something stupid, like keep it forever, Wei Ying glances at the clock and winces. “Fuck, I’ve got a social media meeting with corporate. I need to kick you out. I need a couple minutes to get ready.”

Lan Zhan is already walking to the door. There’s been a great deal of pressure regarding social media lately; Wei Ying will need to be at his best for that. Even so, before he closes the door behind him, Lan Zhan takes one more quick look of Wei Ying in his cardigan. His cardigan.

And somehow manages not to accept the friend request until a respectable forty-five minutes after he gets home that night.

July, Fiscal Year 2020

Something was wrong.

Wei Ying glances at his phone to check the time again. Yep, Lan Zhan is late. Something is absolutely wrong. Granted, it’s not like this is a meeting. This is simply a small social gathering for the managers, plus Meng Yao in HR, in Luo Qingyang’s backyard. But Lan Zhan really doesn’t seem like the fashionably late type.

Determined to get to the bottom of things, Wei Ying swipes open his phone. A moment later, he texts you still coming to the thing?

There. Casual and not stalkerish at all. Just a simple yes or no question. The answer, either way shouldn’t bother him at all. It’s not like he’s wearing his best non-office casual clothes: black skinny jeans and a simple red t-shirt. It’s not like he took almost a half hour to style his hair, which in hindsight was really stupid because it’s windy and hot and no way is the product gonna hold for the next couple of hours. It’s not like—

His internal monologue ends the moment Lan Zhan texts him back. No words, just a picture of a freight train Lan Zhan must have taken from inside the car. Ah. That makes sense. Not even Lan Zhan’s famous punctuality can account for some of the ridiculously long freight trains in the area.

Now all Wei Ying needs to do is wait. Lan Zhan will be here eventually and then Wei Ying just has to not be obvious about how into all of Lan Zhan’s everything he is. He can totally pull that off.

Yeah, he’s gonna go get a beer.

He probably shouldn’t, cause getting drunk with co-workers is dumb. He thinks back to the night when he met all his fellow managers and ended up basically insulting them all thanks to one too many gin and tonics. Well, they’ve all known him now for four months and there’s not been a single HR complaint about him, so Wei Ying must be doing something right.

Speaking of HR, Meng Yao and Wen Qing are standing by the cooler. Wei Ying blatantly listens to their conversation as he peruses his options. Plenty of soda and beer and even a couple of bottles of O’Douls. The only person invited who doesn’t drink is Lan Zhan. Does Lan Zhan drink O’Douls? On purpose? Or maybe this is Luo Qingyang’s way of including Lan Zhan. Providing horrible tasting non-alcoholic beer. It’s just the sort of thing Lan Zhan would appreciate.

Wei Ying grabs a Heineken as Meng Yao says, “Attrition is up five percent.

Wen Qing hits Wei Ying in the shoulder. “What was that for?” he grouses, placing the bottle of beer where she hit him. It’s not like she hit him all that hard, but it’s the principle of the thing. “And that’s totally a HR violation. You gonna hit me right in front of HR?”

“I saw nothing,” Meng Yao says, picking up his own bottle of beer and staring out into the distance. Well, into the yard of the neighboring house in Luo Qingyang’s subdivision, at least.

“No, seriously. Why’d you hit me?”

“Cause your associates are quitting. Why are they quitting, Wei Ying? Do you not realize how much work it is between someone quitting and hiring someone new?” Wen Qing asks, hands on her hips.

Wei Ying rolls his eyes. He’s been prepared for this argument. He actually noticed the trend a week ago and went flailing into Lan Zhan’s office, trying to figure out what he should do. Luckily, Lan Zhan had stats. Stats that Wei Ying quickly memorized just so he could whip them out. Granted, he assumed he’d be whipping out the stats in a meeting of some sort and not at a backyard barbecue. But, details.

“If you look at the numbers and take out the ones that we fired because of discipline or dependability, we’re only up one percent from last year,” Wei Ying says, sounding like a good little office drone. He swallows and reminds himself that this is the life he chose for himself. The type of life where he talks attrition. At a party. “So considering the people we’re letting go caused us the most amount of work, I’m doing us a favor.” He takes a sip of his beer and stares right at Wen Qing. “You’re welcome.”

She has the decency to snort at that, at least. “I’ll give you two percent,” she says. “No more than that.”

“Deal,” Wei Ying says, beaming. “But no worries. I’ve been with the company long enough that I’m ready to start poaching some workers from my old job.” He looks at Meng Yao. “Better get those referral bonuses ready.”

“Management doesn’t get the referral bonus, sadly,” Meng Yao says.

Why is everything in his life a disappointment? He thinks of Granny Wen and Ouyang Zizhen. Well, they’ll be good additions to the team, even if Wei Ying isn’t paid a hundred and fifty bucks per person. “I’ll poach ‘em anyway.”

“Send me their resumes,” Meng Yao says. He picks up a beer and heads towards the deck, where Luo Qingyang and her husband are sitting.

And then Lan Zhan appears. He walks into the backyard with a folding chair bag slung over his shoulder. He brought his own folding chair. Why didn’t Wei Ying think to bring a folding chair? Granted, Wei Ying doesn’t even own a folding chair, but that’s completely besides the point.

Wei Ying gives himself just a moment to stare at Lan Zhan. And in that moment, Wei Ying is almost completely undone. Lan Zhan is wearing a light blue polo shirt tucked into a pair of khaki shorts that cut off right above his knee. His calves and ankles are on full display and Wei Ying feels like he’s a Victorian melodrama.

“Are you even trying to hide your thirst?”

Wei Ying forces himself to look away from Lan Zhan (and his legs!) and spins to look at Wen Qing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wei Ying says, trying for haughty and failing miserably. It comes out more pathetic, if anything.

She snorts, and somehow her derision is almost comforting, like a warm hug. “You know, he didn’t come to a single one of these outings last summer,” Wen Qing says as she steps into Wei Ying’s space. “And he actually suggested mini-golf for next month. Just saying.”

“Mini-golf?” Wei Ying asks, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. “Mini-golf is the best. Lan Zhan and I were just talking about mini-golf the other day.”

Wen Qing gives him a look and says, “I rest my case.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Wei Ying watches Lan Zhan wave to Luo Qingyang as he walks over to the cooler. “Wei Ying,” he says. “Wen Qing.”

“Freight train finally released you as a hostage?” Wei Ying jokes as Lan Zhan takes a O’Doul and twists off the top. Shit, he’s actually drinking O’Douls. Wei Ying files that away so he can remember to make fun of him later. Wouldn’t be nice to tease him right off the bat. Wei Ying can wait. For a couple minutes at least.

“You guys don’t mind if I let Lanling out, do you?” Luo Qingyang yells from the deck as she flips something at the grill. “He’s a good boy, I promise. Just really excitable.”

Wei Ying hunches in on himself and immediately freezes. Lanling is Luo Qingyang’s dog. Wei Ying has seen pictures of said dog, has done the whole oh how cute thing when she proudly shows everyone then turns away as quickly as he can so he no longer has to see said dog. Said dog’s only saving grace is that he’s small enough to put in a tote bag or something.

It’s still more dog than Wei Ying wants in his life right now. Just as he decides he somehow needs to be brave and say something, ask Luo Qingyang not to let the dog out, Lan Zhan wraps his fingers around Wei Ying’s wrist. “I will talk to her,” he says in a quiet voice, loud enough so only Wei Ying can hear.

And just like that, Lan Zhan takes his bottle of O’Douls and walks to the deck.

The fuck? How did… Wei Ying has been so careful. Like, he gets it. Dogs give people a lot of joy and comfort and shit. Granted, he doesn’t understand it, at all. However, he also has larped in the past year. On purpose. So it’s not like he has much of a leg to stand on when it comes to joy and comfort. But the last thing he wants to do is bring anyone down, so he always makes sure he says the right thing when people brag about their dogs.

Why do customer service associates have so. many. dogs?

Being so distracted by the customer service associate to dog ratio, it takes a moment for his brain to truly understand what just happened. Lan Zhan touched his wrist. Lan Zhan touched his wrist. Lan Zhan touched his wrist. Holy fuck, Lan Zhan touched his wrist.

There was skin to skin contact and Wei Ying was so scared by the thought of seeing a dog that he couldn’t even enjoy it. Why is he so cursed in life?

The better question, though, is how does Lan Zhan know? Wei Ying turns his head and watches Lan Zhan and Luo Qingyang talking. She nods and Lan Zhan heads back to the fire pit.

A moment later, Lan Zhan walks to the fire pit and sets up his lawn chair. There are already a couple cheap looking plastic lawn chairs around the pit, so Wei Ying grabs one and sits right next to Lan Zhan, unsure of what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem quite right, but it’s a classic, so he’ll go with it. “Thank you for that,” Wei Ying says quietly. The words come out a little awkwardly in his throat. He’s not used to people sticking their neck out for him. It doesn’t always sit right, but Wei Ying tries. He really does.

Lan Zhan fiddles with the O’Doul’s label on the bottle he’s holding. “No need for thanks,” he says and if Wei Ying’s eyes aren’t deceiving him, Lan Zhan’s ears are turning pink.

“Well, I’m gonna thank you anyway,” Wei Ying says. They’re not sitting close enough, like they would be in a meeting, where Wei Ying could simply lean over and knock their shoulders together. Instead, he does an awkward soft shoulder tap. With his fist. It’s not quite a punch, but it’s not not quite a punch, either. It’s an inbetween a punch and a tap, and hopefully it’ll get the message across.

Lan Zhan takes a sip of his non-alcoholic beer and leans back in his lawn chair, crossing his ankle over his knee. This is both good and bad for Wei Ying. Good, because Lan Zhan’s ankle is that much closer to Wei Ying for ogling purposes. Bad, also because Lan Zhan’s ankle is that much closer to Wei Ying for ogling purposes. And how did he become a man affected by ankles?

“I truly dislike O’Douls,” Lan Zhan says, taking another sip.

“Wait, what?” Wei Ying asks, sitting up and turning towards Lan Zhan. “Then why are you drinking it?”

Lan Zhan’s shoulders move up and down, just slightly, but enough that it looks like he’s sighing with his entire body. For Lan Zhan, at least. “Luo Qingyang purchased this with me in mind specifically. I would prefer her kindness not to go in vain.”

“I’ve got a solution for that,” Wei Ying says with a sly grin. He takes the bottle out of Lan Zhan’s hands, trying to ignore how their fingers brush together. As discreetly as he can, Wei Ying turns so his back is facing the deck and drinks the remainder of the beer, about a three-fourth of the bottle. Once done, he turns back to Lan Zhan and hands him the empty bottle.

There’s a slight furrow in Lan Zhan’s brow and for a moment, Wei Ying wonders if he’s misstepped. Certainly isn’t the first time that’s happened and won’t be the last. But then Lan Zhan says, “Thank you.”

Wei Ying shakes his finger at Lan Zhan. “Hey now, didn’t you literally say two minutes ago that there’s no need for thanks?” Wei Ying asks, delighted to throw Lan Zhan’s words back at him.

Lan Zhan nods and continues to play with the label. The silence between them isn’t uncomfortable. It’s nice. Reminds Wei Ying of some of the stretches of time he’s spent in Lan Zhan’s office, when they’re just answering gchats and emails as quickly as they can, trying to keep the customer service center afloat.

“Dinner’s ready!” Luo Qingyang calls out from the deck.

“Nice,” Wei Ying says, jumping up from his chair. On the way to the deck, he stops by the cooler and grabs a bottle of O’Douls. With as much relish as he can muster (and Wei Ying can muster a fuck ton of relish) he twists open the bottle with the help of his t-shirt and takes a long swig.

And smiles to himself when Lan Zhan realizes what he’s done.

August, Fiscal Year 2020

“I can’t believe they’re gonna fire my brother, just like that,” Wen Qing says angrily, throwing a box of tissues at the conference room television screen. Her eyes are absolutely furious and Wei Ying is quite glad that he’s not the one she’s directing her ire at for once. He’s been there enough, thank you very much. “He’s been with the company longer than I have.”

Luo Qingyang kneels down and picks up the tissue box while Lan Zhan stands up and closes the blinds on the conference room windows. Smart move there. They’re in what’s called the Fish Bowl, and practically the entire customer service center can see who’s inside. If Wen Qing is about to have a breakdown, none of the associates need to see it. Hell, Wei Ying doesn’t need to see it, but he figures he might be of some use for moral support.

“He’s technically not being fired-”

“Oh fuck you, Mianmian,” Wen Qing says, with no heat behind her words.

Luo Qingyang simply shrugs and tosses Wen Qing the tissues box. “Destroy the tissues, not the TV.”

“Okay, I know this is probably the least helpful thing I can say right now,” Wei Ying says, “but I’m gonna say it anyway. Mianmian?”

“Not helpful, at all, Wei Ying,” Wen Qing says as she starts tearing up a tissue. “You ever heard of nicknames?”

“I’ve been here for five months and none of you have called each other by anything other than your name. And now I hear Mianmian? Do you have a nickname?” he asks Wen Qing. He turns and looks at Lan Zhan. “Do you?”

“Hanguang-Jun,” Luo Qingyang says with a laugh.

“It’s like I don’t even know who you people are anymore,” Wei Ying says, grabbing a tissue from Wen Qing’s pile. He starts to tear the tissue. Artistically. Hanguang-Jun? There’s got to be a story there and hopefully one day, Wei Ying will learn it. “So we wanna talk about this new restructuring and just how stupid it is?”

Wen Qing lays her head on the conference table. “Why are they giving me the QA team? That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of in my life.”

“Gimme a tissue,” Luo Qingyang says. Wen Qing throws a couple in her direction. “It’s not just giving you QA, it’s taking QA from me. Who wants to bet I’m out of a job by the end of the year? If QA can go under Workforce, why can’t the training team? Then no more need for a training manager.”

“Oh god, don’t leave me with the training team,” Wen Qing says, her eyes going blank. “I can’t… Just, no.”

“It would make more logistical sense to put training under operations, as we handle all the standard operating procedures,” Lan Zhan says. To Wei Ying’s surprise, he grabs a tissue as well. Wei Ying watches for a moment as Lan Zhan folds and unfolds the tissue, not tearing like the rest of them.

“Thanks for that, Lan Zhan,” Luo Qingyang says dryly. “Good to know my future job loss makes logistical sense.”

“Okay, but can we get back to the task at hand? Wen Ning is the QA supervisor. He can’t report to me cause nepotism or something like that. And there are no open supervisor positions on Wei Ying’s team right now. Hence, my baby brother is out of a job,” Wen Qing snarls as she grabs another tissue.

Silence fills the conference room, the only sounds are the tearing of tissues. Even Lan Zhan is tearing tissues now, making neat little piles. It’s adorable and Wei Ying would be much more affected if they weren’t going through a managerial crisis at the moment. But they are, so Wei Ying takes his Lan Zhan feelings which threaten to bubble up and pushes them down way deep. He’ll deal with them later.

Lan Zhan clears his throat. “I have a plan.”

And all at once, everyone in the room relaxes a bit. Of course, Lan Zhan has a plan. Because he’s Lan Zhan and he always knows what to do. “Don’t keep us in suspense,” Wei Ying says as he grabs one of Lan Zhan’s tissue piles to tear them up into even smaller pieces.

“I have a proposal already written for the need of an operations supervisor,” Lan Zhan says, grabbing his pile back from Wei Ying with a look. It’s delightfully bitchy and Wei Ying smiles for the first time since the conference room door closed and they turned on the TV to talk to Nie Mingjue. “I have been trying to figure out the optimal time to submit it. If approved, Wen Ning could easily handle the position.”

“He could totally do ops,” Wen Qing says, closing her eyes as she slumps back into her chair. “And they never deny you anything, Lan Zhan. You want an ops supervisor, you’ll get an ops supervisor.”

“I will submit my proposal to HR this afternoon,” Lan Zhan says, standing up. He grabs his piles of tissues and throws them in the trash can.

The spell of the room breaks then and Wei Ying stands up too, thinking of all the work he’ll need to get done. If there’s something customer service associates don’t like, it’s change, and this restructuring is going to be a hard sell, and he’s the one who’s got to convince them all that this is the best thing for everyone. Even when he doesn’t believe it himself.

Joy.

#

“You’re sure you don’t mind if I eat in here?” Wei Ying asks, placing his chopsticks over the takeout container.

It’s not often that he has to work late enough to warrant getting dinner delivered to the office, but this whole restructuring bullshit threw a wrench in any plans he might have had tonight. Granted, his plans were going over to Jiang Cheng’s, eating takeout and playing Mario Party, but it would have been a good way to spend the evening. Instead, he has to write out email drafts to the customer service center and try to make the restructuring plans sound positive and not stupid.

Lan Zhan picks up his own takeout container, which somehow already seems like it’s been steamed or something. No stains or wrinkles, unlike his own mess of a container. “I believe I can make an exception,” he says dryly. “Better eating here than the kitchen.”

Wei Ying taps the side of his nose. “Too many questions if we eat in the kitchen,” he says. Some of their associates are super smart and pick up little clues far too easily. It’s August. There’s absolutely no reason for management to be staying late in August unless something was going down. Associates know this.

“Exactly,” Lan Zhan says before taking a bite of tofu.

They eat more quickly than Wei Ying would like, and now his mind is spiraling, and not on the restructuring plans. His mind is spiraling because of Lan Zhan, which is happening more and more lately.

Wei Ying’s leg is getting restless and he’s rewritten the same sentence about seven times at this point. Fuck. He needs to say something. He needs to say something now. But he really doesn’t want to. He likes the easy friendship that he and Lan Zhan have found. He likes that there are possibilities. Schroedinger’s relationship. And if he says something, which morally, ethically, and possibly even legally, he should, that possibility is gone.

But Lan Zhan deserves the best workspace possible and if Wei Ying might be contributing anything other than the best, changes need to be made. With that in mind, Wei Ying decides to be brave. He pushes his laptop out of the way so he’s looking directly at Lan Zhan. “Can I talk to you about something that has the potential to be incredibly awkward?”

Great set-up there, Wei Ying. 10/10, wouldn’t make anyone uncomfortable at all. He’s so good at this talking shit.

Lan Zhan, for all his professionalism, simply nods and closes his laptop. It’s a strange balance of power, with him being behind his desk and Wei Ying being a guest. Maybe that’s for the best, though. Wei Ying will say his piece, and if things go pear-shaped, he’ll grab his laptop and run. And then somehow avoid Lan Zhan for the rest of his career here at Furniture Farm. Easy peasy.

“So I took that required sexual harassment training the other day,” Wei Ying says quietly, staring at a random spot on Lan Zhan’s desk. His desk is really too perfect. There are no ring marks. No scratches. Nothing to give a man who desperately needs something to stare at something to stare at. Now Wei Ying’s desk? He’s had that bad boy for not even six months and there are plenty of distracting things to stare at. He’s made that desk his own.

“You will be required to take that every two years,” Lan Zhan says.

“Joy,” Wei Ying says, rolling his eyes. He’s about to go on a tangent but stops himself. Lan Zhan deserves better. That mantra is gonna get him through this conversation, even if it kills him. “Well, it got me thinking.” Wei Ying scratches the back of his neck. His undercut needs some freshening up. And now he’s stalling and he can’t stall any longer because Lan Zhan deserves better. “I don’t know if you noticed, but…”

He can’t do this. He absolutely can’t do this. Why did he ever think this was a good idea? Wei Ying never has good ideas. It’s why he works in customer service.

“Noticed what?” Lan Zhan asks, his voice low.

Oh, Lan Zhan’s voice like that, in the late hour, with only his desk lamp on without the overhead fluorescent lights does something to Wei Ying. Something he really shouldn’t be thinking of in the context of the conversation they’re about to have.

“That I, um, might flirt with you,” Wei Ying says, wondering if he just hopes hard enough, that he could disappear. “A lot.” Fuck it, he’s just gonna barrel roll through this and not give Lan Zhan a chance to say anything yet. “And I took the sexual harassment training and I realized that maybe that’s not cool, that you haven’t really given consent, and so I wanted to say that if I’m making you uncomfortable at all, I’ll stop. I will.” He holds up three fingers in a salute. “Promise.”

“You do not hold a position of power over me,” Lan Zhan says quietly. “We are equals.”

Wei Ying thinks about looking up, but decides the desk is still his best friend. He’s not quite sure where Lan Zhan is going with this, but he’ll try to find out. “Sure, right, I know that, but—”

“The training also gives best practices,” Lan Zhan interrupts him. Lan Zhan never interrupts anyone. Wei Ying looks up from the desk now, trying to decide if that’s a good or bad sign. His heart is beating wildly and he waits for Lan Zhan to continue. “The first step to stopping any unwanted advances is to say something if you are uncomfortable. If not, you should speak to your manager or HR.”

Wei Ying is ready to lose his damn mind. He remembers this from the training, remembers the weird cartoon woman with the squeaky voice telling him what to do in various situations. And he licks his lips because Lan Zhan has had the same training and he’s a rule follower. He follows the rules. All of them. “You haven’t said anything,” Wei Ying says, his voice sounding ridiculously parched. He desperately wants to grab Lan Zhan’s water bottle for a sip of water because of course he’s not smart enough to bring one for himself. “And I’m pretty sure you haven’t gone to our manager or HR.”

“I have not,” Lan Zhan says after a moment’s time, which is long enough for Wei Ying to want to throw himself into the sun. “Because the advances are not unwanted.”

Oh.

Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan’s eye then. For the first time in about five minutes, he is able to breathe. Throwing himself into the sun no longer seems like a viable career path, for which he is incredibly grateful. He does not do well with heat, sweats like a motherfucker.

“Good to know,” Wei Ying says. He tries to give Lan Zhan a grin, but honestly, he’s just so relieved that he hasn’t done anything untoward Lan Zhan that all he can do is slump a bit in his chair.

“May I assume that my attempts at reciprocating are not unwanted as well?”

And that’s the moment Wei Ying’s brain breaks. He sits back up, back ramrod straight with this new knowledge that’s been bestowed on him. “Hold up,” he says, raising his hand. “You’ve been flirting back?”

Lan Zhan’s ears turn bright pink almost at once and it’s the most adorable thing Wei Ying’s ever seen in his life. It takes a heroic amount of effort not to grab Lan Zhan by the collar of his dress shirt and suck on his bright pink ear lobe. The fact that Wei Ying is still in his seat shows the amount of respect he truly has for the man sitting across from him. He’s a damn hero. He deserves a medal. Parades should be held in his honor. Buildings should be named after him.

“I did say attempts,” Lan Zhan says quietly and Wei Ying swears there’s just the slightest hint of a smile on Lan Zhan’s lips. Right then, Wei Ying decides he has a new goal in life: to see that hint of a smile as much as possible. “Clearly I need practice.”

“You can practice on me as much as you want,” Wei Ying, king of no-filter, says. Wei Ying feels laughter bubbling up in him and decides not to hold back. Lan Zhan has been flirting with him. This is the best day of his life. Even with the stupid restructuring. Best. Day. Ever.

“I will take you up on that offer. Possibly often,” Lan Zhan says with a nod.

Wei Ying flips back open his laptop and deletes the last sentence of his email. He looks back up and sees Lan Zhan staring at his keyboard, but not typing a single word. Feeling brave, Wei Ying slides his foot under Lan Zhan’s desk and taps his shoe. Lan Zhan looks up immediately, ears red. “Looking forward to it,” Wei Ying says with a grin.

He starts writing the typical rah-rah bullshit and can’t help but smile to himself as he hears Lan Zhan says softly, “As am I.”

September, Fiscal Year 2020

“Wait, lemme get the door.”

Lan Zhan leans his head back against the headrest. This was not how today’s work related 5k run was supposed to end. Per an unspoken agreement with Wei Ying, if things had gone the way he hoped, Lan Zhan would be inviting Wei Ying into his home for tea. Which might lead to him cooking dinner for them both. Which might lead to kissing on the sofa. Which might lead…

But instead Lan Zhan is paying the price for trying to keep up with Wei Ying, someone who runs five miles six days a week. Now Lan Zhan, who does crossfit and yoga on a regular basis, can barely walk thanks to a fall a couple of hundred feet from the finish line. The result? A possible sprain and a definite strain. Also, embarrassment. Mostly embarrassment, actually.

Wei Ying opens the passenger door and holds his hands out. “Need help getting up?”

Lan Zhan stares at Wei Ying’s hands for just a moment longer than he should. Throwing caution to the wind, Lan Zhan puts his hands in Wei Ying’s and lets him help him up into a standing position. Wei Ying throws his arm around Lan Zhan’s waist while Lan Zhan hooks his arm over Wei Ying’s shoulder. It’s the closest he’s been to another human being besides his brother in years. He’s not sure what to do with that information.

The walk from the driveway to the front door is short and Lan Zhan hands Wei Ying his keys. The door opens, and they head inside.

“All of this is Furniture Farm, isn’t it?” Wei Ying says with a laugh as they walk over to Lan Zhan’s sectional in the living room. It’s a dark grey in a sturdy fabric. Lan Zhan agonized for months whether or not to take the plunge. Luckily, it’s been one of his better purchases. “That’s the Dexter collection, right?”

“I take it you finally went through the upholstery training,” Lan Zhan says as Wei Ying helps him sit down. The chaise lets him elevate his ankle while leaning back into the sofa cushions and Lan Zhan purposely doesn’t think about what else he hoped to do on this sofa tonight.

“Nah, who has time for that? Last week I dealt with a woman who was the bane of my existence cause of a Dexter loveseat,” Wei Ying says. “She was completely oblivious to my charms, Lan Zhan. Wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise, and you know how hard that is. I ended up having to give her like fifty percent off just so she would stop yelling at me. It was embarrassing.”

Lan Zhan isn’t quite sure if he needs to say something here. Wei Ying can talk about customer service situations all day long and Lan Zhan is happy to listen. But he’s trying to ignore the throbbing in his ankle and it’s not quite working.

Wei Ying claps his hands once. “Right. So I’m guessing you have an amazing first aid kit somewhere around here and I will eat my non-existent hat if you don’t have a reusable ice pack in your freezer,” he says. Lan Zhan looks up at him and Wei Ying’s face is soft, causing Lan Zhan’s heart to clench. “Let me take care of you?”

The words are said so casually that they almost undo Lan Zhan. Swallowing, Lan Zhan says, “Yes, to the ice pack. First aid kit is below the sink in the kitchen.”

“Perfect. Where’s the tea? Kitchen somewhere, I’m assuming?”

“There’s a box on the kitchen table,” Lan Zhan says, closing his eyes. He doesn’t know if he can handle this. For so long, he wanted to be the one to take care of Wei Ying and to have things reversed on today of all days… What’s done is done. Lan Zhan can still make things as easy as possible for Wei Ying.

A couple of minutes later, Wei Ying walks out of the kitchen with a towel over his shoulder and holding one of Lan Zhan’s dinner plates, full of various medical supplies. “I didn’t want to go digging for a tray,” Wei Ying says, sounding sheepish. “Medicine first, then let’s get your shoes off and the ice pack on. Then I want to clean the scrape on your knee.”

Wei Ying sits on the edge of the sofa, not quite close enough to touch Lan Zhan. Their fingers brush as Wei Ying hands him first the glass of water, and then slowly drops the pills in Lan Zhan’s open palm. “Thank you,” he says before popping the pills into his mouth.

“Of course,” Wei Ying says. “Let it never be said that I can’t be a fine nurse when the situation requires. Now, can I take off your shoe?” Considering Lan Zhan already had Wei Ying’s hands on his foot earlier, right after the fall, he’d think this wouldn’t cause his breath to speed up. Yet here he is, with slightly shallow breathing. Wei Ying tilts his head. “You’re in pain, aren’t you? Hope the meds kick in soon.”

“They will,” Lan Zhan says. He doesn’t take pain killers often, but when he does, the effect is quick, as quick as when he drinks alcohol. Not that he actually gets drunk on pain meds.

Wei Ying lowers himself to the floor, kneeling in front of Lan Zhan, who pointedly does not think about Wei Ying on his knees. He refuses to let his mind even linger on that visual. “Your shoe?” Wei Ying asks, his hands hovering over Lan Zhan’s running shoe.

Lan Zhan stares at his shoe for a moment. He spent almost two hundred dollars on these shoes and then close to three weeks trying to break them in, all so that he would look like he knew what he was doing at a 5k charity race. Until today, Lan Zhan didn’t think it was possible to feel so betrayed by an inanimate object. But that is most certainly what he is feeling right now. Betrayal. “Please,” Lan Zhan says after a moment's thought.

Wei Ying loosens the laces first, pausing when Lan Zhan lets out a deep breath. “You okay?” Wei Ying asks quickly. Lan Zhan nods. That’s enough for Wei Ying, who carefully takes off the shoe. “Now for the sock.”

All Lan Zhan can do is brace himself and wait for Wei Ying’s hands to brush his bare skin and hope he doesn’t make a complete fool of himself at Wei Ying’s touch. It’s been longer than Lan Zhan cares to admit that he’s been touched by someone other than family.

“You know,” Wei Ying says as he starts to take off Lan Zhan’s sock. Lan Zhan is grateful for Wei Ying’s voice, distracting him from gentle fingers against his skin. “You’ve got really nice ankles.”

Whatever Lan Zhan thought Wei Ying was going to say, it certainly wasn’t that. He’s never really given his ankles much thought before. The words are said so simply that Lan Zhan doesn’t even think it can count as flirting. Wei Ying says it like it’s a matter of fact and Lan Zhan needs to keep himself from glancing down to look at Wei Ying’s ankles.

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan says, not sure of how else to respond.

“I just made it weird, didn’t I?” Wei Ying asks. “Trust me to make it weird.” The kettle in the kitchen starts to whistle. “Tea!” Wei Ying jumps up and hands Lan Zhan the towel. “You, uh, should probably position the ice pack yourself. You know where it hurts best and all. Be right back!”

Lan Zhan takes the time to put the towel over his foot, ignoring the fact that only seconds ago, Wei Ying’s hands were right there. Then as carefully as he can, places the ice pack on his ankle. Heat would feel so much better, but Lan Zhan reminds himself that cold is what his body needs right now. Ice pack in place, Lan Zhan lets himself rest against the cushions of his sectional, closing his eyes.

Only a couple of minutes later, he feels Wei Ying sitting down next to him. Lan Zhan sits up, curious to see what blend Wei Ying chose. His tea box currently has almost twenty different options. Wei Ying hands him a cup of reddish brown tea. “Rose hip,” Wei Ying says proudly. “Apparently it’s supposed to help reduce inflammation? At least that’s what the tea bag says.”

Not Lan Zhan’s favorite, but he wouldn’t change anything about this, not when Wei Ying specifically made him tea in Lan Zhan’s own kitchen. “Appreciate it,” Lan Zhan says before he takes a sip. A little sweet, a little tart, but the warmth is soothing against his throat.

“Anytime,” Wei Ying says, taking a sip of his own tea. He looks at the cup, a quizzical look on his face. “Huh. I don’t think I like Rose hip tea.” He laughs with a shrug and takes another sip. “Aw well, waste not, want not.”

Lan Zhan gently takes the cup out of Wei Ying’s hands. “You do not need to continue drinking if you do not like it,” he says, placing the cup on the end table next to the sectional. Lan Zhan likes it enough that he may end up drinking Wei Ying’s cup as well.

“Think you’re ready for me to clean your knee?” Wei Ying asks. “I’ve fallen like that a dozen times. It’s really best to clean it and put on a band-aid.”

Thankfully, the knee in question is on Lan Zhan’s other leg. “I would appreciate that,” he says.

Wei Ying grabs hold of the plate, with the remainder of the medical supplies, and moves to sit on the chaise in front of Lan Zhan. “Can you bring your knee up so I can have a good look?”

Lan Zhan complies and holds his breath while Wei Ying puts one hand on Lan Zhan’s calf for balance, and cleans the wound. His knee has stopped bleeding and Lan Zhan is fairly certain no debris entered the wound, but Wei Ying seems to be taking no chances. Wei Ying rubs in some anti-bacterial cream causing Lan Zhan to tense for a moment. “Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks.

“Stings a bit,” Lan Zhan admits.

“Sorry,” Wei Ying says and he truly does sound sorry, which is silly. Lan Zhan is the one who fell, all because he wanted to stay close to Wei Ying during the race. “Let me put on a band-aid and we’ll be all set.”

Wei Ying smooths the band-aid onto Lan Zhan’s knee with both hands, and Lan Zhan is almost positive that Wei Ying is deliberately being slow. Lan Zhan has absolutely no issue with that.

“One last thing to do,” Wei Ying says with a grin. He lowers his head and presses his lips right up against the band-aid. “That’ll make it better.”

Lan Zhan’s entire world has stopped and nothing matters other than him and Wei Ying, who has given him an opening. The perfect opening. But while it might be a perfect opening for Wei Ying, it’s not for Lan Zhan. He can already picture things if their roles were reversed. I hurt myself here, too, Lan Zhan, Wei Ying would say, pointing to his lips.

Somehow, Lan Zhan’s lack of response doesn’t phase Wei Ying at all. He simply places the plate of medical supplies on the coffee table and moves to sit next to Lan Zhan. Closely. Wei Ying is facing Lan Zhan, legs crossed at the knee, resting his elbow on the back of the sofa and his hand against his cheek. He looks utterly comfortable and Lan Zhan wants him to stay forever.

“You think you’re going to be okay tonight?”

Lan Zhan swallows and stares at the cup of tea in his hands. “I hope so.”

“Well, I don’t think you should be alone,” Wei Ying says quietly, walking his fingers up Lan Zhan’s arm. Lan Zhan’s shirt is still slightly sweaty and probably smells, but that doesn’t seem to keep Wei Ying away. “After all, you had quite the shock. From the fall.”

Lan Zhan takes a breath, trying to keep his heart rate under control. It doesn’t work. It never works when Wei Ying flirts with him obviously like this, obviously enough that Lan Zhan can tell. “Are you offering to watch over me?” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager or not eager enough, hoping he sounds just the right amount of eater. Deliberately as possible, Lan Zhan places his cup of tea on the end table and then turns slightly to face Wei Ying.

Their faces are close. Really close. All Lan Zhan needs to do is lean forward, just a little bit, and their lips will brush.

“I really like you, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says in practically a whisper and Lan Zhan is on fire.

He is on fire and wants nothing more than to kiss Wei Ying so that the flames consume him completely, but Lan Zhan needs to do this right. Wei Ying deserves to have this done right. And that means consent. “May I kiss you?” he asks, placing his hand against Wei Ying’s cheek.

“Fuck, yes,” Wei Ying breathes. “Can I kiss you back?”

For just a moment, Lan Zhan thinks of just leaning in and kissing Wei Ying, but at the end of the day, they are not just friends, but co-workers and there are rules to follow. He needs to do this right. “Yes,” Lan Zhan whispers. Yes, yes, yes.

And then they kiss.

It’s slow and sloppy — Wei Ying opens with slightly too much tongue —  but it’s absolutely perfect. So perfect that when Wei Ying pulls away quickly, Lan Zhan lets out a quiet gasp. His mind starts to go a million miles an hour, wondering what he did wrong. How he must have messed up so quickly. “Wei Ying, are you—”

“Shit, no, you’re amazing,” Wei Ying interrupts, looking down at Lan Zhan’s ankle. “But you’re hurt. Like legit hurt and I don’t want to hurt you more so maybe this isn’t the right—”

There will be no second guessing in the house of Lan Zhan. Without letting himself think, Lan Zhan grabs the front of Wei Ying’s sweaty t-shirt with both hands and brings their lips together once more. Lan Zhan leans back into the sofa cushions, taking Wei Ying with him, so that Wei Ying is partially on top of him. Wei Ying braces himself with one arm and his other hand cups the back of Lan Zhan’s neck. Wei Ying holds him like he’s delicate, like he’s easily breakable. No one has ever held Lan Zhan like this before. He’s never wanted anyone to.

He wants that now.

“Here, wait, I wanna…” Wei Ying whispers. It should seem a little silly to be whispering when the sun is shining brightly into Lan Zhan’s living room window. And that’s when Lan Zhan realizes that anyone could walk by his small house and see the two of them making out on the sofa, which directly faces the big picture window. Lan Zhan feels himself getting half-hard at the thought and he decides to file that away for review later, for now, he would very much like to close the curtains so he can ravish Wei Ying. At least as much as his ankle will allow.

“Could you close the curtains?” Lan Zhan asks, leaning his head back to expose his neck.

Wei Ying chuckles and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world. “Can’t go scarring the neighbors for life, can we?” he asks. Wei Ying gives Lan Zhan a quick peck on the lips and then quickly stands up. Lan Zhan misses Wei Ying’s body against his already.

Only a moment passes before Wei Ying’s back and positioning himself on the sofa. “This okay?” he asks as he leans over Lan Zhan. “I’m not hurting you?”

The painkillers have kicked in and Lan Zhan only feels a slight twinge. Nothing to keep him from making out with Wei Ying. With that in mind, Lan Zhan pulls Wei Ying’s leg over his lap, so Wei Ying is straddling him. Wei Ying picks up his line of thought immediately, because before Lan Zhan can blink, they’re basically at a forty-five degree angle, with Wei Ying lying on top of him.

“Not hurting,” Lan Zhan says, sliding his hands so that they’re resting on Wei Ying’s ass.

“Oh thank fuck.”

And then they’re kissing again and the only thing that matters is Wei Ying.

October, Fiscal Year 2020

Wei Ying is bored.

It’s ten o’clock at night and he’s been sitting around, scrolling on his phone, waiting for Lan Zhan to call. He might as well check twitter again; the nice thing about following close to a thousand accounts is that it’s constantly updating.

Just as he opens the app, Lan Zhan facetimes him — finally — and just like that, Wei Ying is no longer bored. “Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, sitting up straight as he crosses his legs under him on the couch. Lan Zhan is clearly already dressed for bed, even though it’s only eight in the evening on the west coast. “You’re tired, aren’t you? You look tired.”

“I hate traveling,” Lan Zhan says with a slight yawn. “Today was just a very long day.”

Thanks to a port slowdown on the West Coast, Lan Zhan’s been sent to Furniture Farm’s main hub, trying to work with the warehouse to compensate. It’s the end of October, and peak season is in less than a month. If the warehouse doesn’t get their ass in gear, customer service is going to have a very bad holiday season. As much as the slowdown annoys him, Wei Ying truly can’t be angry about it. The dock workers are simply trying to negotiate for better benefits without going on strike. The Karens of the world might not understand that, but Wei Ying does. And while work forced him to take a mandatory ‘Unions are Evil’ training, in his heart, Wei Ying will always, always, stick it to the man.

It’s simply who he is.

But unfortunately for him, his boyfriend — yep, never gets old saying that — is forced to deal with some of the fallout. Only a month has passed since the 5k race and Wei Ying is still giddy. Granted, it’s been harder to be giddy for the last three days with no Lan Zhan in his bed, well, or actually no Wei Ying in Lan Zhan’s bed, but still. Giddiness. It’s a hell of a drug.

“I know how to help you relax,” Wei Ying says, trying to sound seductive, but failing. He is probably the worst seducer in the history of seducers, but thankfully, Lan Zhan doesn’t seem to care. To make up for his lack of vocal skills, Wei Ying unbuttons a button on his dress shirt, trying to prove a point.

“The company pays for our phones, Wei Ying.”

“I swear to god, Lan Zhan, if you tell me you need to talk to HR because of unsanctioned use of the company’s phone, I’m hanging up and I’m never speaking to you again,” Wei Ying says. It’s an empty threat and they both know it.

Suddenly all Wei Ying sees is the ceiling of Lan Zhan’s hotel room. “Lan Zhan?” he asks.

“Laptop.”

Wei Ying throws back his head and laughs. Lan Zhan’s a nerd who brings two laptops when he travels: one for work and one for personal use. Wei Ying? He just uses an incognito window on his work laptop like everyone else. Zhan does have the right idea, though, so Wei Ying walks over to his desk. Far easier to see each other with their laptops.

As he sits down, Wei Ying decides to take off his dress shirt, leaving him shirtless. The air feels good on his chest and he leans back in his desk chair, trying to give Lan Zhan a perfect opening view. Just in time. Wei Ying accepts the call as soon as he opens his gmail.

Now that they’re both staring at each other through their laptops, Wei Ying isn’t quite sure what to do. Dick pics? Sure. There’s more than one pic of his dick out there in the void. Though he’s never sent one to Lan Zhan yet. Mostly because Lan Zhan simply hasn’t asked for one. And Wei Ying doesn’t believe in unsolicited dick pics, because he is a gentleman.

Phone sex, though? If Wei Ying’s wanted sex in the past, he went out and had sex. But the person he wants to have sex with rudely isn’t within arms reach, so phone sex it is. Might as well be honest about things, which tends to go over well with Lan Zhan. “Full disclosure, I’ve never had phone sex before,” he says.

Lan Zhan’s ears turn pink and Wei Ying grins. “You totally have, haven’t you?” Lan Zhan nods and Wei Ying’s grin grows. “Teach this simple disciple the way?” Wei Ying asks, putting his hands together as if in prayer. “Wait, no. Save that one for when we’re in person. I’ll be the student kneeling and you, the master, who will teach me the ways of the flesh.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, his voice hitching slightly.

“You’re about to take my phone sex virginity, Lan Zhan. You should really take responsibility for that,” Wei Ying says coyly, trailing his fingertips up and down his arms.

“I thought you told me virginity was a social construct,” Lan Zhan says. His words are casual, teasing almost, but combine that with Lan Zhan taking off his t-shirt? Wei Ying is going to die, right here in his desk chair. He wonders how long it will be before someone finds his body.

Lan Zhan suddenly stands up and is moving. Wei Ying can’t complain, the way Lan Zhan is holding his laptop is giving Wei Ying a beautiful view of his chest, specifically his nipples, one of his most sensitive spots.

When Lan Zhan stops moving, he’s sitting in an overstuffed chair, his laptop in his actual lap. Wei Ying sucks in a breath when he realizes that the angle is going to give him the most beautiful view of Lan Zhan’s cock, which already looks half hard under his pajama bottoms.

“Hold that thought,” Wei Ying says, picking up his laptop and moving to his bed as quickly as possible. Benefits of living in a tiny studio is that he can get anywhere in his apartment in basically ten steps or less. Once he’s settled on the bed, he looks at the screen and because he is a damn hero, focuses on Lan Zhan’s face and not his cock. “Hi.”

Lan Zhan smiles, well, the corners of his mouth twitch up just slightly, but for anyone else, it’s a full-blown grin. “Hello, Wei Ying.”

“Stupid port slowdown, like I get it, damn the man, fight the Empire, but still,” Wei Ying says as he takes out a bottle of lube from his nightstand. “I miss you.”

And it’s true. Not having Lan Zhan in the office for the last three days has been strange. Wei Ying knows he could gchat or text him during the day, but Lan Zhan is doing important operation things. Granted, Wei Ying doesn’t quite understand the important operation things, but he does understand that whatever Lan Zhan is doing will hopefully keep people yelling at his associates after Thanksgiving. So Wei Ying restrains himself to a handful of messages a day and a phone call at night.

“Oh shit, did you bring lube with you?” Wei Ying asks.

Lan Zhan’s shoulders slump, just slightly. “I did not,” he admits. “I will be updating my business travel packing list.”

Wei Ying can only grin at that. “We’ll find you a perfect travel-size lube that will fit in with the rest of all your perfect travel-size toiletries.”

Seriously, Wei Ying was at Lan Zhan’s house when he packed. He has all matching luggage and actual toiletry bags, the type with a hook to hang up in the bathroom. Lan Zhan is such an adult sometimes. Wei Ying likes him so much.

“Travel-size will not be enough if you are traveling with me, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says seriously.

“ Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, delighted. Lan Zhan really does that sometimes, just drops little nuggets like that, and somehow expects Wei Ying not to combust on the spot. So Wei Ying does what he does best: fight back. He may be a phone sex virgin, but he’s watched movies and porn, so he’s got a fair idea of what to say. “So what would you do to me if you were here right now?”

This will be an interesting experiment. Imagine Wei Ying’s complete lack of surprise to discover Lan Zhan is not a big talker in bed. That being said, he does make some absolutely amazing, spine-tingling noises. Wei Ying is still trying to catalog them all after a month. He’ll learn the dictionary of Lan Zhan’s sounds eventually. But the question here is how much will Lan Zhan be willing to talk during phone sex, especially if asked direct questions.

Lan Zhan palms his cock through his pajama bottoms. “Tonight it would be what you would do to me. ”

And suddenly, Lan Zhan has Wei Ying’s complete and undivided attention. Because it’s only been a month since the 5k race, and they are both adults with full-time jobs, Wei Ying can count the times they’ve actually fucked one another on one hand. All but one of the times they’ve fucked, Lan Zhan’s topped, which is absolutely fine with Wei Ying. But one time, Wei Ying fucked Lan Zhan and let’s just say it was an excellent night for Wei Ying.

“Yeah? I can work with that,” Wei Ying says, slightly breathless already. “Make you lay down on your stomach, massage your ass a bit…” Wei Ying trails off, trying to decide what exactly he would do if Lan Zhan were here. “Wait, you got a little tense last time. I’d suck you off first, get you nice and relaxed, then turn you on your stomach. I’m such a good boyfriend, sweetheart. Always watching out for you.”

“Wei Ying is very good to me,” Lan Zhan says with just the slightest hint of a smirk.

Wei Ying looks down and sees that Lan Zhan’s cock is fully hard now, tenting his pajama bottoms. “Why are we wearing pants?” Wei Ying asks, unbuttoning his jeans, which are becoming quite tight.

As slowly as he can stand it, which isn’t really all that slow, Wei Ying unzips his fly. “You know, I was gonna try to be all sexy and put on a show, but I just wanna be naked,” Wei Ying says as he stands up. He turns his laptop so that his webcam can catch him taking off his jeans.

“Naked is good,” Lan Zhan says as he starts to slide out of his own pajama bottoms.

“Naked is very good,” Wei Ying agrees, kicking his jeans to the side of the bed. He slides the palm of his hand down his stomach, caressing the slightly coarse hair, into his boxer briefs and gives his cock a squeeze.

He hears a slight moan and stares at the laptop screen. Lan Zhan’s naked now, his fingertips brushing up and down his cock just so. Fuck, Wei Ying wishes those were his fingers. He’s still not quite over how perfect Lan Zhan’s cock is; he’s not sure he ever will be. “Yet you are not naked,” Lan Zhan says, looking pointedly at Wei Ying’s crotch.

“Just for that, maybe I won’t get naked,” Wei Ying says, trying for haughty. It doesn’t work. It never does. So he laughs instead. “Yeah, we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’m so bad at denying myself.”

The boxer briefs come off and while he’s still standing, Wei Ying poses like the Coppertone baby, sucking on his index finger, desperately wanting Lan Zhan’s cock in his mouth instead. But that’s not an option so he gets on the bed, spreads his feet apart, and places his laptop in-between his legs.

“Race you?” Wei Ying asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Lan Zhan does that thing he does, where he rolls his eyes without actually rolling his eyes. Wei Ying really wants to learn how to do that so he could break it out in meetings with corporate. Instead, he squirts out a tiny bit of lube — he doesn’t need more just to jerk off; Lan Zhan is clearly trying to hide it, but Wei Ying can tell that he’s tired, so no ass play tonight — and slowly starts to fuck his fist.

“Wish my hand was your ass,” Wei Ying says with a moan. He’s already feeling good and if he was by himself, his eyes would absolutely be closed. But there’s no way he’s gonna miss a moment of Lan Zhan touching himself. It’s basically the hottest fucking thing in the damn world and Wei Ying will never get enough of it.

“Yes,” Lan Zhan says with a sigh, looking exactly like a sex god of some sort, leaning back against the cushion of the chair, one hand confidently stroking his cock, the other rubbing circles over his nipple.

“Do you have any idea how amazing you look when we fuck?” Wei Ying asks, tightening his grip on his cock. He stares at the screen, where Lan Zhan’s cock is curled slightly towards his stomach as he rubs his balls. Lan Zhan really likes when Wei Ying doesn’t forget about his balls, and Wei Ying is always happy to oblige him.

“Not as good as you,” Lan Zhan says with a groan. He’s stroking his cock now in perfect rhythm. Wei Ying tries to match him, stroke for stroke, but decides it’s a bit too quick for what he wants tonight.

“Fuck, yes, Lan Zhan ah, your cock, it’s so beautiful,” Wei Ying says a bit breathlessly. He’s stroking with more intention now. He loves this, he loves getting to share this with Lan Zhan, the way he makes a simple hand job so much more than just a hand job. Especially when Lan Zhan stares at him with that intense look of his, like he could happily watch Wei Ying’s face forever. Which reminds him… “Time, fuck, to objectify you.”

And with that, Wei Ying lowers his gaze so he’s staring at Lan Zhan’s cock, instead of his face.

Lan Zhan lets out a punched-out moan and says, “Me, too.” Wei Ying simply stares at Lan Zhan’s perfect, perfect cock. And his hands.

“Holy fuck, I wish you were here,” Wei Ying says. He’s getting close now, and he speeds up his strokes.

“Be mindful when you come,” Lan Zhan says, sounding slightly out of breath. “Company computer.”

That’s all it takes to push Wei Ying over the edge, coming all over his stomach, as lightning travels all over his skin. And once Wei Ying starts, Lan Zhan follows. Watching Wei Ying come almost always sets Lan Zhan off. It’s gonna give Wei Ying an ego or something one of these days. Maybe a complex.

They’re both breathing heavily, and Wei Ying places his laptop back on his lap, ignoring how his cock brushes against the edge.

“Company computer?” Lan Zhan asks, resting an arm behind his head. This is one of Wei Ying’s favorite Lan Zhans, when he’s calm and relaxed and almost talkative after an orgasm.

“Fuck you,” Wei Ying says with a laugh, cleaning up his stomach with a wet wipe. For more than fifteen years, tissues were good enough for Wei Ying. Then Lan Zhan introduced him to the concept of personal hygiene wipes, and Wei Ying has never looked back. “Why did that make me come, oh my god, I hate myself so much right now. That is so dumb.”

“Maybe not,” Lan Zhan says. “We met through work. It would make sense that we have an attachment to the company.”

Wei Ying tosses the wet wipe in the general direction of the waste basket. He misses. If he was at Lan Zhan’s he’d get out of bed and pick it up. But he’s here in his own studio and what Lan Zhan doesn’t know won’t hurt him. “A sexual attachment, though?”

“I have a detailed list of where I would like to fuck you in the office.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, sitting straight up. “How can you drop that on me when you’re two thousand miles away from me? Go to the airport right now. Get on a plane. Get a red eye. To night. Or at least share the list.”

“Eventually,” Lan Zhan says with a yawn. That’s Wei Ying’s queue to try to wrap things up. His man needs some sleep and Wei Ying doesn’t want to be the one keeping it from him tonight. Time to change the subject away from sex and slow down the conversation.

“You gonna be home by my birthday?” Wei Ying asks. Halloween is on Thursday this year, so Lan Zhan will probably miss any parties the week before. Though the older Wei Ying gets, the less Halloween parties there seem to be. Shame. He really does love Halloween parties.

“If things continue to progress, yes,” Lan Zhan says. “We will do whatever you want after work for your birthday.”

“Aw, and here I wanted us both to call in sick and spend the day together,” Wei Ying says, stretching his arms over his head.

Lan Zhan blinks, in that way of his that tells Wei Ying knows he’s considering the idea. “That might raise some suspicion,” he says after a moment.

And there it is, the one downfall of their relationship right now. That it’s basically a secret. Wei Ying’s only told Jiang Cheng and jie-jie. Lan Zhan’s only told his own brother. Wei Ying is desperate to change his relationship status on Facebook for the first time ever, but he can’t, not until they decide to tell HR that they’re in a relationship. And the thought of sitting down next to Lan Zhan in Meng Yao’s office and telling him that they’re together is basically a nightmare. They’ll have to do it at some point, because if Wei Ying has his way, he’ll be with Lan Zhan for the rest of his life, and isn’t that a thought when they’ve been together less than a month.

“We’ll tell HR soon,” Wei Ying says, turning so that he’s on his side, propping his head up with his hand. Neither one of them have actually suggested they talk to HR yet, but Wei Ying is fairly certain that Lan Zhan will soon, so Wei Ying might as well preempt him for brownie points.

“We will,” Lan Zhan agrees. “So what would you like to do?”

“You’re going to laugh at me,” Wei Ying says. He’s already got birthday plans with Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli the weekend after his birthday. They’ll be going to a minor league hockey game and Jiang Cheng always gets way too invested in the teams and it’s the funniest thing ever to Wei Ying. Before the game, they’ll tailgate in the parking lot; jie-jie promised to bring her pork ribs and lotus soup. Jiang Cheng said he’ll buy him a pack of Hostess cupcakes and put a candle in one of them. A perfect birthday afternoon with his siblings.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, which Wei Ying interrupts as don’t be an idiot, of course I won’t.

“Medieval Times,” Wei Ying blurts out the truth before he can stop himself. “I wanna go to Medieval Times and eat turkey legs and watch jousting for a night. It’ll be amazing, Lan Zhan.”

“Then we will go to Medieval Times,” Lan Zhan says and there’s that look on his face, that one that tells Wei Ying that Lan Zhan likes him. Well, joke's on Lan Zhan. Wei Ying likes him back.

A lot.

Wei Ying lets out a yawn — not even fake; he must be more tired than he thought — and says, “I should let you go to bed. Call me tomorrow night?”

“Good night, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says. Lan Zhan is always so decisive about ending these calls. Wei Ying could probably easily spend another twenty minutes trying to say good night. Not Lan Zhan. When he says good night, he means it.

“Good night, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says with a small wave.

Wei Ying barely remembers to set his alarm on his phone before he falls asleep. Though, he doesn’t have to worry. Lan Zhan has texted him at five in the morning Pacific time since he’s been out there, which is seven in the morning Central. Wei Ying does like his good morning texts. Maybe he can ask Lan Zhan to keep them going when he’s back.

That happy thought in his mind, Wei Ying slips under the covers and goes to sleep.

November, Fiscal Year 2020

“Lan Zhan, associate engagement is still the worst,” Wei Ying whines as he puts his feet up on Lan Zhan’s desk. He knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s gonna cause Lan Zhan a bit of grief until Wei Ying’s feet are firmly back on the floor. Wei Ying does it anyway.

Lan Zhan doesn’t even bother looking up from his laptop, which kinda ruins the whole feet on the desk thing. Which, knowing Lan Zhan, might be the point. Therefore, Wei Ying needs to dig in and keep his feet on the desk for even longer. “It is important for our at-home associates to feel just as included as our in-office associates, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says.

“I know, I know,” Wei Ying says with a sigh. This isn’t the most comfortable position to sit in and suddenly he’s playing a game of chicken between his want of a reaction from Lan Zhan and his want of a lack of lower back pain. Who will win? No one knows.

That’s not true. Wei Ying knows and Wei Ying doesn’t want to use the heating pad tonight, not when he plans to spend the night at Lan Zhan’s place. So quietly and with as much dignity as he can bring forth, Wei Ying puts his feet on the floor.

And Lan Zhan immediately looks up. Handsome bastard.

“You did that on purpose,” Wei Ying says, narrowing his eyes, just slightly, just enough to let Lan Zhan know he’s on to him.

“Yes.”

Well, it’s certainly no fun needling Lan Zhan if he’s just gonna confess like that, is it? As much as he would like to put his feet back up on Lan Zhan’s desk, he does have work to do, so he grabs his laptop off of the chair next to him and readies himself for some good old-fashioned holiday associate engagement planning.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying looks up, worried. That’s Lan Zhan’s slightly panicked voice. It’s not a voice he uses often, but Wei Ying always knows something’s about to go down when he does. “What’s wrong?”

“Meng Yao would like to see us in his office.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Wei Ying says, closing his laptop. “We knew this would happen when we requested the meeting. That he’d want to talk to us.” He stands up and walks around the desk to Lan Zhan, who is staring at his gchats like they hold the answer to the universe. If only they did. “We’ve practiced this. It’s going to be fine.”

Lan Zhan looks up at him — oh fuck, the look on his face, like he actually trusts that Wei Ying is right, that everything will actually be okay. It’s a heady feeling and all at once, there’s nothing more Wei Ying wants than to really mean it when he says yes.

“Corner,” Wei Ying whispers. There’s a Corner in Lan Zhan’s office that’s a blind spot. They can kiss quietly in the Corner and no one passing by Lan Zhan’s office can see them through the narrow window on the door. They’ve checked. Multiple times and from multiple angles.

“I am telling Meng Yao we will be there shortly,” Lan Zhan says as he types. The moment he’s done, the laptop closes and Lan Zhan walks to the Corner, his back against the wall.

Wei Ying leans against him, trying to be a vertical weighted blanket or something. Something that will give Lan Zhan a bit of comfort before they have to give some details about their personal life to Meng Yao, of all people.. “Lan Zhan, Lan Er-gege, we haven’t done anything wrong. We haven’t broken any rules. There’s nothing in the employee handbook that says we can’t date. I’m not a direct report to you and you’re not a direct report to me.”

Lan Zhan tucks his nose into the crook of Wei Ying’s neck and says, “I know.”

Wei Ying doesn’t think it’s possible, but Lan Zhan is actually getting tenser in his arms, instead of the other way around. Not good. So Wei Ying busts out the line he prepared the day they decided it was time to talk to HR.

“You are a gentleman, I am a gentleman’s daughter, so far we are equal.”

A puff of air against Wei Ying’s neck is his reward for the joke. Absolutely worth it. His boyfriend really does love Jane Austen. Lan Zhan stands up straight. “I am ready,” he says and any panic in his voice is gone.

Stepping back, Wei Ying rubs his hands together. “If HR asks us questions, they will know we did every damn thing by the book, just like the cartoon lady in the sexual harassment video said.” They’re still in the blind spot, just barely, so Wei Ying puts his hand on Lan Zhan’s cheek. “You okay?”

Lan Zhan brings Wei Ying’s palm to his lips and if that doesn’t set off a whole complicated set of emotions, Wei Ying doesn’t know what will. “You are worth any number of conversations with Human Resources.”

Fuck, I love him, Wei Ying thinks. Well, that is certainly a thought for another time and not when they’re about to talk to HR. “Right, then,” Wei Ying says, blinking slowly and then trying to compensate by probably blinking too fast. What is a normal amount of blinking anyway? He’s only been blinking for twenty-eight years, he’s completely forgotten. Maybe he never knew in the first place. “Let’s do this.”

Wei Ying leads the way out of the office with Lan Zhan right behind him. Meng Yao’s got one of the better offices in the customer service center, with a view of the walking trail that snakes around the building and not the parking lot like Wei Ying. That being said, there’s something about the office that Wei Ying doesn’t like. There are several motivational posters on the wall and Wei Ying is almost positive that Meng Yao doesn’t mean them ironically.

Once the door to Meng Yao’s office is closed, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan sit down, almost in sync. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting,” Lan Zhan says gravely.

Wei Ying slides his foot over, just enough so that their shoes are brushing up against each other. A little moral support in these trying times. Though Lan Zhan’s part is basically done for now. Lan Zhan told Wei Ying that he expects Meng Yao to want to speak to them both individually about their relationship, so he has to get through that still. But this first part? This is all Wei Ying.

“Of course,” Meng Yao says, interlacing his fingers over his closed laptop. “You know I’m always here to help. What would you like to speak to me about?”

The perfect opening. Wei Ying takes a breath and decides like most things in his life, why not wing it and see what happens. “Lan Zhan and I have recently started dating,” Wei Ying says. In a perfect world, he’d hold on to Lan Zhan’s hand for this, but they are most certainly not in a blind spot right now. “And according to the employee handbook, we’re supposed to tell our direct manager or HR. We really didn’t feel like bothering Nie Mingjue with this.”

Meng Yao’s face has just about the most perfect customer service smile that Wei Ying’s ever seen. An uptick to his lips and dead eyes. Wei Ying wonders just how much paperwork they’ve caused the man. “And what would be considered recent?” Meng Yao asks.

Damn. The one question they worried about. Apparently they’re supposed to tell HR right away and… it’s been longer than that. “Six weeks,” Wei Ying says honestly. That’s the one thing Lan Zhan insisted on when they prepped for this conversation. Absolute honesty. “We wanted to make sure before we said anything.” Wei Ying puts on his most apologetic face and tries to look contrite.

“I see,” Meng Yao says. He tilts his head. “The 5k race?”

“Got it in one,” Wei Ying says, scratching the back of his neck. Oh, he hopes this is enough to satisfy any forms Meng Yao needs to fill out. He really doesn’t want to give him any more information than that.

“Wei Ying, could you excuse us for a moment?” Meng Yao asks, the absolute picture of politeness. With a nod, Wei Ying stands up, purposely not looking at Lan Zhan and heads to the door. “Don’t go far, please.”

Wei Ying fires off a quick salute as he leaves the office, closing the door as quietly as he can. He walks to the other side of the wall, being careful not to be in the view of the window in Meng Yao’s door and leans back. Associates pass him in the hall, as does Wen Qing, who looks at him suspiciously, just like Wei Ying would look at Wen Qing, if she was waiting outside of Meng Yao’s office when the door was closed.

Time becomes absolutely meaningless to Wei Ying until finally the door opens and Lan Zhan steps out. In reality, Wei Ying is aware that maybe five minutes have passed, but honesty? That was the longest five minutes of his life and he’s had some really long five minutes.

The door stays open, so Wei Ying doesn’t say anything to Lan Zhan, when all he wants to do is make sure he’s okay. Their eyes meet, and suddenly Wei Ying knows that everything is gonna be okay if they’re both willing to endure embarrassing conversations with HR all in the name of being together. Lan Zhan nods and starts walking towards his office,

Wei Ying lets himself back into Meng Yao’s office, closing the door behind him. “Bet you didn’t think you’d have to deal with this today,” he jokes.

Meng Yao simply gives him a long suffering smile. “I have eyes, you know. I knew I’d be dealing with this eventually.” He looks down at his now open laptop. “Now, you are absolutely allowed to date Lan Zhan, but if it’s decided that your relationship is negatively affecting either of your work, there will be conversations. Probably not pleasant ones.”

“Won’t have to worry about that for a while,” Wei Ying jokes. “Peak season starts in three weeks. We’ll barely have a chance to see each other then.”

“There’s only one question I am required to ask,” Meng Yao says as he’s typing. He doesn’t even look up, which is a little rude, in Wei Ying’s opinion. “You’re not being coerced at all? You’re in this relationship with your own free will?”

“Absolute opposite of coercion, Meng Yao,” Wei Ying says quickly. “Promise.”

Meng Yao pushes himself away from his desk. “You’re free to go.”

Wei Ying doesn’t need to be told twice. He wants to be in the Corner, stat, for a little kissing before the product review meeting which starts probably way sooner than Wei Ying wants to admit. He wants to make sure Lan Zhan is okay and feeling better now that they’ve finally followed the rules and told HR. He wants… He wants a lot these days. And sometimes it scares him that he seems to be fulfilling a lot of wishes lately. It can’t be good for his digestion.

Trying to walk briskly, but not looking like he’s in a panic — which can easily happen this close to peak — Wei Ying heads towards Lan Zhan’s office. He chooses the direct route, which in hindsight is a mistake, as it takes him right past Wen Qing’s office. “Wei Ying,” she hisses as he tries to pass without being noticed. Knowing there’s no stopping this conversation, he stands in the doorway. Luo Qingyang is also in the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “Explain.”

Might as well rip the entire band-aid off. “Both of you, with me,” he says, crooking his finger.

To his surprise, they both follow him without any questions. That’s the power of being seen outside the HR office. People know shit is going down. Wei Ying leads them both into Lan Zhan’s office, who is sitting behind his desk with his laptop closed. Wei Ying smiles to himself. Clearly Lan Zhan wants a little kissing before the product review skills meeting, too.

“Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan asks, asking the obvious question of why guests are in his office which keeps him from kissing Wei Ying. Lan Zhan really is an open book. Wei Ying can’t believe he had such a hard time reading him eight months ago.

“This needs to stay in this office and you have to promise not to tell anyone else, okay?” Wei Ying says. Both Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang nod, though Wen Qing does roll her eyes. Which, fair. Wei Ying is being a bit dramatic. But fuck it. He likes drama. “Lan Zhan and I started dating.”

“I knew it,” Luo Qingyang says, clapping her hands once before holding out her palm to Wen Qing. “My twenty dollars, please.”

“You bet on us?” Wei Ying cries, trying to sound outraged, but really this is one of the nicest things to ever happen to him. “We were trying to be discreet.”

Wen Qing snorts. “Trying is the operative word,” she says, pushing Luo Qingyang’s hand away. “How long? My honor and twenty dollars is at stake.”

“Since the 5k race,” Lan Zhan says. Wei Ying beams at him. He truly didn’t expect Lan Zhan to want to be a part of this conversation at all. But if HR knows about him and Lan Zhan’s relationship, Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang absolutely deserve to know, too.

“And all is right with the world,” Wen Qing says, looking at Luo Qingyang. “That means I win. I expect to see a twenty dollar bill underneath my keyboard by the end of the day.”

“Oh come on, I’ll just venmo you. Who carries cash?” Luo Qingyang says. Her sights then go to Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. “You know we need details, right? We’ve been putting up with you two for months. We deserve details.”

Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan, who tilts his head just so, which Wei Ying thinks means that he can tell them the details. But not two minutes before the stupid product review skill meeting. “After work on Friday. We’ll go out for dinner and tell you everything then.”

“You better,” Luo Qingyang says.

“Now get out. Lan Zhan and I have a meeting.”

Wen Qing snorts again. She is so good at that. Wei Ying really wants to learn how to snort like her someday. “So that’s what they’re calling it these days.”

“Ecommerce, various members of the merchandising team, plus our vendor will be there,” Lan Zhan says, sounding serene, like nothing else mattered but the meeting they were about to have. Basically, the opposite of what Wei Ying is feeling right now. “You are welcome to attend. I’m sure you would have valuable insights.”

Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang leave the office without another word. Wei Ying practically sprints to the Corner, making grabby hands towards Lan Zhan. “Come on, we’ve only got like a minute and I really need to kiss you.”

One of Lan Zhan’s lesser known qualities is just how quick of a son of a bitch he can be. Wei Ying barely has time to blink before they’re kissing, hard and fast and dirty and absolutely inappropriately two minutes before a meeting. Just as quickly, they break apart and head to their respective laptops.

“Continue the conversation after the meeting?” Wei Ying asks with a grin.

Lan Zhan’s gaze drifts down to Wei Ying’s lips, then back up again. “Yes.”

Suddenly a product review skill meeting didn’t sound so boring at all.

December, Fiscal Year 2020

Lan Zhan stares at the orders on his screen, not wanting to believe what he’s seeing. “You are certain?” He switches tabs and goes back to the hangout he’s in with Jin Zixuan, the head of Asset Protection. “Forget I asked that. I know you would not bring this to my attention unless you were positive.”

“Two days before Christmas? You know there’s no doubt, Lan Zhan,” Jin Zixuan says. He leans back in his chair. “You’re coming to dinner for Christmas?”

“Wei Ying and I will be there,” Lan Zhan says with a certain amount of satisfaction.

Considering he and Wei Ying have only been together for just over three months, he wasn’t sure if they would spend Christmas day together. His family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, instead meeting for brunch every year. This year, Wei Ying will join them. Most years, Lan Zhan would then simply take advantage of a day off, practicing his cello or reading. But this year, he’ll be joining the Jiangs for dinner at the restaurant where Jiang Yanli works.

“You know I’m the one who got him the job, right?” Jin Zixuan says suddenly. “I got so sick of him complaining about his old job that when I saw the posting for this one, I told him to apply or else.”

Lan Zhan blinks, trying to reconcile that one of the best things to ever happen to him is due to Jin Zixuan. “I was not aware of that,” he says slowly. “I suppose you are looking for thanks?”

“He’s happy, which makes A-Li happy, which makes me happy. Everyone is happy,” Jin Zixuan says. “Except for the associate you need to go fire this afternoon. He won’t be happy.”

“I will get started now,” Lan Zhan says, ending the hangout. The associate in question is technically employed by a temp agency. They will need to be included in the discussion. Seeing as Wei Ying is the contact for the temp agency, he will need to be involved as well.

He gchats Wei Ying. My office, please.

Over the last few months, they’ve created a system for themselves. If they need to discuss actual business, they do not use names in the first sentence of their message. If either one of them just wants a moment alone, they always include the other’s first name. Wei Ying doesn’t really see the point, but it makes things easier to compartmentalize for Lan Zhan. He’s never been one to mix business with pleasure and having rules helps.

Thirty seconds later, Wei Ying walks into Lan Zhan’s office and leans against the closed door. “I was taking a nap,” he says with a whine. “It’s two days before Christmas, there’s nothing to do and it’s only noon and I’m bored.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Lan Zhan says, silently asking Wei Ying to take a seat. He turns his laptop and shows Wei Ying his screen. “We need to fire Su She. Today.”

“Oh fuck, what’d he do?” Wei Ying says, pulling the laptop towards him. A moment later he looks up at Lan Zhan. “You’re shitting me.”

Lan Zhan slowly shakes his head. “I am not.”

“No one is this dumb. I refuse to believe it.”

“We work in customer service, Wei Ying.”

That gets the laugh Lan Zhan expects. “He really placed an order for himself, credited the order for the full amount, including free shipping, so that he paid zero dollars, and didn’t expect us to find out?”

“That is correct,” Lan Zhan says.

“Fuck,” Wei Ying says, placing his forehead on the desk. “The dude had potential, I guess. Kind of a smarmy customer service voice, though. And now he’s getting fired over a KitchenAid mixer. So stupid.”

A few minutes later, the call with the temp agency is complete and one of their Crisis Handlers is on their way. The office is in the same town, one of the reasons they use them, so she will be here quickly.

“If a company needs to employ someone with the title Crisis Handler, I think that means they have too many crises,” Wei Ying says, forehead still on Lan Zhan’s desk. “Damnit, I choose this agency, too. I should have realized they sucked. Fucking Crisis Handler.”

Lan Zhan quickly realizes that Wei Ying needs a distraction or he will fixate on the fact that he is the one that made the final decision to work with this temp agency for the holidays. The final decision might have been Wei Ying’s but it was his team who vetted the options and whittled them down to the final three. Wei Ying would never blame Lan Zhan for that, and Lan Zhan doesn’t have the energy to convince Wei Ying not to blame himself, either.

So a distraction, it is.

“When this unpleasantness is complete, I have an early Christmas present for you,” Lan Zhan says, trying to keep the smugness out of his voice.

That is enough for Wei Ying to raise his head from the desk. “Why can’t I have it now?” Wei Ying asks with a whine.

Lan Zhan clenches his fist, the one currently on his lap, that Wei Ying cannot see. If only Wei Ying knew how much Lan Zhan would absolutely love to give him his gift right now. But they will have to wait. Lan Zhan hasn’t bought many Christmas gifts in his life. A few Secret Santas over the years, when someone has the energy to organize one. But Wei Ying insisted that they exchange gifts, and demanded there be a fifty dollar cap.

Wei Ying’s real gift will be given on Christmas day, after they have dinner with the Jiangs. Last month, Wei Ying mentioned wanting to start using Copic markers again in his art. So Lan Zhan braved a Black Friday promotion at four o’clock in the morning to buy a set of twelve markers that would be just under their dollar limit thanks to the sale.

He hates Black Friday promotions. He hates shopping in actual stores and not online. He does not hate Wei Ying and that will win out every time.

But this present, the present he’ll give Lan Zhan today, will be something they both can enjoy.

Wei Ying checks his phone. “Crisis Handler is here. I’ll let her in. You keep an eye on Su She,” he says as he stands. “Meet in conference room two?”

Lan Zhan nods and follows Wei Ying out of the office. The call center floor is fairly quiet tonight. A day or two before Christmas is always slow, thanks to customers realizing that shipping, even overnight shipping, is no longer an option. Voluntary Time Off was even offered, letting a few associates go home early without pay, though Lan Zhan is glad that Su She did not take the offer.

A few minutes later, Wei Ying is leading a woman into the conference room, which means it’s time to find Su She. They will not be accusing him of stealing, simply telling him there’s been an incident and to clean out his desk. Then the temp agency will fire him once he’s out of the building.

“Su She?” Lan Zhan asks quietly as he walks up to his cubicle. Su She is playing a game on his cell phone, a clear violation of company policy. But once he realizes that Lan Zhan is standing next to him, he quickly puts his phone in his pocket and looks up, a guilt on his face. Guilt which turns into fear as Lan Zhan says, “Come with me.”

#

They’re standing in the Corner and Lan Zhan is impressed. They’ve been kissing for almost two minutes now and Wei Ying hasn’t demanded his present yet.

But then Wei Ying breaks away. “Okay, the unpleasantness is done, what’s my present?” he asks eagerly, holding Lan Zhan tighter.

“Desk,” Lan Zhan says.

Without another word, Wei Ying ducks under Lan Zhan’s arm and sits in the chair across the desk. His hands are folded on top and he looks every bit the model of a patient gift recipient. Until you noticed the way his foot won’t stop tapping to an imaginary beat and that he’s biting the inside of his left cheek.

Lan Zhan sits down in his desk chair and opens up the top drawer, and picks up a single lined sheet of paper. “I trust you to be careful with this,” Lan Zhan says in order to increase the tension. Wei Ying loves theatrics, and Lan Zhan is happy to indulge him.

“Of course, Lan Er-gege,” Wei Ying says as his fingers tighten around each other. Lan Zhan slides the paper across the desk and Wei Ying grabs it immediately, his eyes reading as fast as they can. “Lan Zhan, what is this? It’s just a list of rooms in the office.”

“That is correct,” Lan Zhan says. He wasn’t sure if Wei Ying would understand right away, so he will do his best to explain. “I told you once, I kept a list. Of everywhere…”

Wei Ying’s eyes widen. “Oh my fucking god,” he says, reading through the list again. “The conference table in the Fish Bowl? Your old cubicles? That window that overlooks the warehouse floor?” Wei Ying’s smile is the most beautiful thing Lan Zhan has ever seen. “This is amazing.”

“I realize that a number of places on the list are not feasible—”

“Why not? This is like the ultimate bucket list. We need to do this. Every single one.”

“Security Cameras. I would very much like to both fuck you in the office and keep our jobs,” Lan Zhan says.

“Lan Zhan, you just said fuck. In the office, ” Wei Ying says, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “I knew I’d be a bad influence on you eventually.”

Lan Zhan’s ears heat up at that. He’s never been one for swearing, but Wei Ying can’t get enough of him saying fuck. Lan Zhan keeps them for special occasions, like today. “Today we are going to cross off the training room. No cameras, no windows, and the training team all took a half day to go on an offsite to celebrate the holidays.”

“You are the most brilliant person in the world, have I told you that lately?” Wei Ying asks, eyes shining.

“Meet me there in five minutes.”

#

Ten minutes later, Lan Zhan is on his knees, Wei Ying’s chest pressed against the wall, trying to hold up his jeans so they don’t fall to the floor. Lan Zhan spreads Wei Ying’s ass cheeks apart and starts to build up spit in his mouth.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Wei Ying says. He sounds absolutely giddy. Lan Zhan understands the sentiment. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve just wanted to yank down your stupid slacks and start sucking you off in the middle of a meeting?”

Lan Zhan brings his face oh so very close to Wei Ying’s hole and brushes his nose against it. He breathes open-mouthed so Wei Ying can sense the small puffs of air against his skin. “Stupid? My slacks are not stupid.”

Wei Ying lets out what could almost be considered a yelp. “That’s your takeaway? That your slacks aren’t stupid? We’re allowed to wear jeans—” Lan Zhan reaches around and squeezes the base of Wei Ying’s cock as he outlines his hole with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my god, you’re right, you’re right. Dress for the job you want, etcetera, etcetera.” Wei Ying shivers and Lan Zhan decides to take pity on him. They only have so long before they’ll be missed.

Lan Zhan runs the flat part of his tongue down Wei Ying’s crease before licking his way back up to his hole. “Fuck, Lan Zhan, I love — this so much, you’re so good at this,” Wei Ying whines.

His heart clenches at Wei Ying’s words; he thinks he knows what Wei Ying truly wanted to say. Lan Zhan loves Wei Ying. It is a constant in his life, one he doesn’t think will ever change. But he has not said the words out loud. They’ve only been together for three months and Lan Zhan doesn’t want to scare Wei Ying away with the intensity of his feelings. So he waits. Once Wei Ying says the words, Lan Zhan will follow.

For now, if he can’t tell Wei Ying how he feels, Lan Zhan will do his best to show him. He swirls his tongue around the puckered skin and then dives in as deep as he can go. As he starts to fuck Wei Ying’s ass with his tongue, Wei Ying’s hand is on his cock, jerking himself off.

“I’m too worked up,” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan tightens his fingers on Wei Ying’s hip, to give him something to focus on. “ Yes, give me bruises, please, Lan Zhan, make me yours.”

Lan Zhan groans right into Wei Ying’s ass. Spit is starting to dribble down his chin and he angles his head a bit, hoping that it’ll go right onto the floor and not his dress shirt. His cock is hard, desire thrumming through him with a steady beat. Lan Zhan takes one of his hands and presses the heel of his palm against his cock, wanting a bit of relief.

“Baby, put your hand back,” Wei Ying grasps. His strokes are getting faster in that way that tells Lan Zhan he’ll come soon. “The second I come, I’m on my knees.”

One thing Lan Zhan is very good at is following directions. He presses down on his cock one more time, then pulls back his head with a gasp, needing some air. As he does, he brings his hand down hard on Wei Ying’s ass, who comes immediately.

“Oh fuuuck.” Wei Ying’s shout is muffled in the crook of his arm. Lan Zhan sits back on his heels, and waits. He’s had a sneaking suspicion about spanking for a while now.

Wei Ying turns around and drops to his knees, so they face each other. He holds up his hand, his come pooling in his palm and looks at Lan Zhan, eyes narrow. “You just spanked me.”

“I did.”

As if he were making an offering or possibly asking for a donation, Wei Ying puts his hand right in front of Lan Zhan’s mouth. “You know, I had tissues in my pocket to jizz into and look and what you’ve done. You should, you should really take-”

Lan Zhan’s own cock demands attention but nothing seems more important than this right now. His eyes not leaving Wei Ying’s, Lan Zhan takes Wei Ying’s wrist and brings it to his mouth, lapping up the come in his palm. 

“You are a monster,” Wei Ying says with a groan. “How am I supposed to step into this room ever again?” Lan Zhan makes quick work of cleaning Wei Ying’s palm, licking between every finger. As Lan Zhan does, he presses against his cock with his free hand. “That’s it. Sit in that chair and get your cock out.”

More directions and Lan Zhan is quick to obey. He’s too worked up to last long, especially once he’s free from his slacks and briefs. That doesn’t seem enough for Wei Ying, who pulls down Lan Zhan’s pants to his knees, before settling in. Just like Lan Zhan thought, it only takes a couple of precise sucks before he’s coming down Wei Ying’s throat with a shiver.

They just had sex in the office. Ten years, Lan Zhan has worked here and now he’s had sex here. In the training room. 

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks, still on his knees, slowly running the palms of his hands up and down Lan Zhan’s thighs. His hands feel so good against Lan Zhan’s skin. Part of him wishes they could just stay here for the rest of the afternoon. Jobs be damned.

“Hmm?” Lan Zhan pushes some of Wei Ying’s hair out of his face, letting his thumb gently trace the delicate shell of his ear.

“This is probably too early and if it is, I’m sorry and I really hope things don’t become awkward between us, but I’m just sick of censuring myself, you know?” Wei Ying says, looking off into the corner of the training room. “I love you, okay? I think you’re just basically-”

The fact that Lan Zhan is not kissing Wei Ying right now is a crime against humanity. So he slides off the chair and kisses Wei Ying hard without any sort of finesse at all. Lan Zhan’s heart grows twice, no three times, maybe four times its original size. How it’s still inside his chest and not in his hands to give Wei Ying for safekeeping, he’ll never know.

When Lan Zhan is satisfied — for now, as Lan Zhan will never get enough of kissing Wei Ying ever — he presses their foreheads together, his hands cupping Wei Ying’s face. “I love you, ” Lan Zhan says in a whisper, knowing he will never say those words romantically to anyone else in his entire life. “I love you.”

“Really?” Wei Ying asks as if he doesn’t quite believe him and that will not do.

“Really,” Lan Zhan says, putting as much conviction in his words as he can. “So much.”

“Okay,” Wei Ying says, wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s shoulders. “That makes me really happy.”

“You make me really happy,” Lan Zhan says, softly kissing him on the lips. The words are cheesy, yes, but they are true. The truest words he’s ever spoken.

“And we consecrated our love in the training room,” Wei Ying says, trying to sound serious, but then starts to laugh. Lan Zhan’s lips quirk up. It is sort of ridiculous. Their dicks are still out and here they are, confessing their love for each other. “I’m gonna pop a boner every time I lead a training class here, aren’t I? You’ve ruined me, Lan Zhan. You’ve absolutely ruined me.” 

“Good.” Lan Zhan won’t apologize for the smugness in his voice.

They stay there, kneeling in the middle of the training room. Lan Zhan still can’t quite believe they’ve now had sex at work. He will do his due diligence to ensure that it’s not the only time. Lan Zhan has access to schedules. After ten years of working in this building, he knows the hiding spots. He will simply have to start putting all of that collective knowledge together for the good of their sex life.

“Knees,” Wei Ying says, groaning slightly as he tucks his dick back into his jeans and underwear, then standing up. Lan Zhan quickly follows and sets himself to right. Wei Ying turns around in a circle. “So do I look like I’ve just been ravished in the training room?”

Lan Zhan looks Wei Ying over for any sign of what they’ve just done. Besides a bit of a swollen lip, Wei Ying looks perfect. “No one will ever guess,” Lan Zhan says.

“Shame,” Wei Ying says with a wink. “Should we leave separately?”

If Lan Zhan had his way, he’d never not be touching Wei Ying. However, he does accept the realities of his work place. “You go on ahead. I will leave in a minute.”

Lan Zhan closes his eyes as Wei Ying presses their lips together. Without another word, he quickly leaves the training room. Lan Zhan keeps his eyes closed and slowly counts to sixty, trying to collect his thoughts. Wei Ying loves him.

His world will never be the same and for that Lan Zhan is grateful.

January, Fiscal Year 2020

“Is it weird that I’m kinda nervous?” Wei Ying asks as he looks into Lan Zhan’s bathroom mirror. It is such a nicer bathroom than Wei Ying’s. Double sinks and space between the toilet and the commode, giving a man a chance to breath as he does his business. Unlike Wei Ying’s tiny bathroom that is barely the size of Lan Zhan’s walk-in shower. “Like, I know it’s gonna be okay, but I’m fucking nervous.”

“I think nerves are appropriate in this case,” Lan Zhan says, which is Lan Zhan speak for admitting he’s nervous, too. Well, Wei Ying might not have any idea how to handle his own nerves, but he can certainly handle Lan Zhan’s.

“Here, can you tie my tie with one of your fancy knots?” Wei Ying asks, turning towards Lan Zhan. “Special occasion and all?”

Lan Zhan says nothing, just pivots so that he’s facing Wei Ying. “Last time you wore this outfit,” Lan Zhan says, already fussing with Wei Ying’s tie. Lan Zhan’s fingers are brushing Wei Ying’s neck a little too obviously. It’s adorable really. “You had the top button undone and the tie was loose.”

Well, Lan Zhan has him there. Wei Ying doesn’t have all that many dress-up party clothes, but this is one of his favorites. Black slacks, black dress shirt, black tie, with a cherry red blazer. Completing the look are his patent leather Oxfords. He looks fucking sharp in this outfit and he knows it. Perfect for the customer service holiday party. That takes place in January. Because the holidays are too busy to let the associates have a single night off to celebrate. Such is the realities of online retail.

What makes this party different, is that Wei Ying and Lan Zhan decided to go and leave together. Plus hold hands when they enter the party room. And maybe even dance, but only if there’s a slow song. Lan Zhan doesn’t dance otherwise.

But yeah. They’re about to come out as a couple to the entire customer service team. So, nerves.

“You’re not going to tie me up?” Wei Ying asks, trying to sound perfectly innocent. Lan Zhan’s ears turn red, just as Wei Ying predicted. He’s so good at this game. “Fine, casual knot, it is.”

Lan Zhan’s hands are still at Wei Ying’s neck and without any prompting, Lan Zhan ties a simple loose knot. The top button of Wei Ying’s shirt is already undone, completing the look. “There,” Lan Zhan says, sliding his hands down Wei Ying’s chest, causing him to shiver.

Wei Ying throws his arm around Lan Zhan’s shoulders, and turns them facing the mirror. Lan Zhan is wearing a light grey three-piece suit with a white dress shirt — with cufflinks! Actual cufflinks! — and a light blue tie. The only goal Wei Ying has tonight is to get Lan Zhan to take off his suit coat and roll up his sleeves. Ideally, at the party. It’ll be good for the team’s morale, to see their Operations Manager let go and live a bit. More importantly, seeing Lan Zhan’s forearms is very good for Wei Ying’s morale.

“We look fucking good together, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “Seriously. And you. You know you’re basically the most beautiful man on the planet, right? How did you never become a model or something?”

Lan Zhan stops looking at the two of them in the mirror and starts staring at the wall. A sure sign he’s hiding something, Wei Ying has learned. Lan Zhan is all about devastating eye contact when it’s the two of them. It’s mortifying sometimes. So when he deliberately doesn’t look at Wei Ying? “Lan Zhan, something you want to share with the class? Have you actually modeled?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head. “In high school, I was approached by agencies several times,” he admits. “I considered it, but Uncle did not approve.”

One of Wei Ying’s favorite things in the world is learning new nuggets and tidbits about Lan Zhan. Like this beauty. They will be ninety years old in a nursing home and Wei Ying will use this to tease Lan Zhan. It’ll be beautiful. “Well, maybe you could model for me one night,” Wei Ying says, wagging his eyebrows. “Naked modeling.”

“I’m leaving the bathroom now,” Lan Zhan says in that voice of his where he’s clearly amused but trying not to give Wei Ying the satisfaction of knowing he’s amused. It’s one of Wei Ying’s favorite voices. “I need to decide on a watch.”

“You love me!” Wei Ying calls out after him. 

“I do not contest that,” Lan Zhan says over his shoulder.

Wei Ying beams at his reflection. Lan Zhan — who owns not just one, but multiple watches, enough watches that he needs to spend time choosing one to wear tonight — loves him.

Everything is beautiful.

#

“I knew it!”

“Oh my god, is this for real?”

Wei Ying squeezes Lan Zhan’s hands as close to a dozen customer service associates run up to them. Being surrounded like this is basically Lan Zhan’s worst nightmare, so Wei Ying takes pity on him and slips his drink vouchers into Lan Zhan’s suit coat pocket. “Get me a gin and tonic?” he asks in a low voice.

Lan Zhan nods and slips away quickly, leaving Wei Ying to face the onslaught alone. No matter. He’s faced down plenty of Bridezillas during registry season. He's faced rich white men demanding to talk to the CEO of Furniture Farm. He can face the rumor mill.

“Are you two really together? Why were you holding hands?” one of the leads, Mo Xuanyu, asks.

“Is that even allowed? I thought dating wasn’t allowed,” Jin Chen says.

Wei Ying holds up his hands in surrender. “It’s only forbidden between direct reports, which Lan Zhan and I are most certainly not,” he says, soaking up the attention. He really does like the people he works with. They all try so hard in what sometimes can be really shitty conditions. Wei Ying just needs to keep doing his best to make things a little less shitty each year. “So, yes, we’re together.”

“You know you’ve got to give us more than that,” Jamie Spivak says. “Details, dude.”

“HR violation, much?” Wei Ying says. He doesn’t care if that’s true or not, but Lan Zhan told him he won’t touch Wei Ying for a month if specifics get out to the team. Which really is more of a punishment for Lan Zhan, because Wei Ying read the fine print, and Lan Zhan didn’t say that Wei Ying couldn’t touch him.

But the idea of not having Lan Zhan’s hand on his cock for a month really makes him sad, so he’ll keep his mouth shut. It’s enough that Lan Zhan is actually willing to let the associates know they’re together in the first place. “All I’m saying is we’ve been together for four months. That’s all you get.”

“Oh come on,” Ah Qing says with a pout. “You are so not fun.”

“I am the most fun,” Wei Ying says, trying to see where Lan Zhan went. It takes a sweep of the party room, but he sees Lan Zhan sitting at one of the tables next to Luo Qingyang. “So fun, that I’m heading over to the corner, cause no one needs to party with their boss. You all have fun tonight. You deserve it.”

The party room is generic looking, nothing too exciting. Sadly, since the party is scheduled for the last quarter of the year, there wasn’t enough money to throw the kick-ass party Wei Ying wanted for his associates. He wanted to have the party at a museum or an arboretum or something. Instead, they’re just in a local banquet hall. Well, apparently it’s still better than last year, when the party had to take place in the warehouse since there was basically no money available.

Wei Ying sits down next to Lan Zhan, who immediately slides over the gin and tonic. Without hesitating, Wei Ying kisses him on the cheek. “Best boyfriend,” he says as Lan Zhan’s ears flush.

“Aw, you two are freaking adorable, now stop that shit before Wen Qing sees you,” Luo Qingyang says. “You know she’s still pissed that she saw the two of you kissing in the conference room.”

“The door was closed and the blinds down,” Wei Ying says, raising his chin. “Not our fault.”

Lan Zhan places his hand on Wei Ying’s thigh and it takes all of Wei Ying’s strength not to scoot his chair closer and snuggle up to him. “We apologized and offered to discuss things with HR,” Lan Zhan says. “I documented everything.”

Wei Ying decides it might be time to change the subject. Sadly, he and Lan Zhan have only managed to cross off one more item on the list: the men’s washroom. The conference room kiss was a trial run that failed spectacularly. He looks at the glass in front of Luo Qingyang. “What are you drinking?”

“Diet coke,” she says glumly.

“Jack and coke?”

She shakes her head. “Keep this on the down low, please. Remember your welcome dinner way back when? When I said I’d be knocked up within a year?” She stares down at her stomach. “I have achieved my goal.”

“Aw, congrats,” Wei Ying says, pushing down the slightest twinge of jealousy he always gets when talking babies and pregnancy with women. And in a customer service center that’s like ninety percent women, that’s a lot. It seems like every month someone is having a baby or a grandkid or something. But that’s for him to deal with and not to saddle on anyone else. He’s lucky enough to have Lan Zhan who indulges him in those little fantasies when the mood strikes. “When are you due?”

“July,” Luo Qingyang says. “Six more months of no booze.”

“But then six months of just being a mom and not having to make any training decks. That’s got to be worth something,” Wei Ying says. He’s pretty sure Luo Qingyang can’t tell his laugh is forced, but by the crease that just appeared between Lan Zhan’s eyebrows, Lan Zhan is well aware.

“Wei Ying, I would like some fresh air,” Lan Zhan says, standing up from the table.

It’s January in the Midwest. Right now, it’s a balmy thirty degrees. Wei Ying almost didn’t bring his dress coat, not wanting to deal with the hassle of checking it, but Lan Zhan insisted. “Sure,” Wei Ying says, getting up and rolling his shoulders. They can survive being outside for a few minutes in just their suit coats. “Door to the patio is behind you.”

By design, the music isn’t quite loud enough where they’ll have to shout to be heard. But Wei Ying is fairly certain that Lan Zhan will want to talk about feelings and shit, and no way is Wei Ying having that conversation anywhere near his associates. It’s bad enough that Wei Ying is willing to entertain the concept of talking about feelings. Being in a relationship has changed him.

Lan Zhan holds the door open for Wei Ying, one of those little moves that goes right to his heart. When they go back to the table at some point, Lan Zhan will probably pull out Wei Ying’s chair for him, too. How is Wei Ying supposed to survive an onslaught like that?

The fresh air does really feel nice, though. Wei Ying will give Lan Zhan that. Wei Ying walks to the railing, which looks over a pond of some sort. Bet it must look nice for spring or summer weddings.

“Wei Ying?"

That’s all Lan Zhan needs to say for the truth to come out. “It’s stupid, it’s so stupid,” Wei Ying says, thinking of this morning, when they fucked, how Wei Ying asked Lan Zhan to put a baby in him. Like, Wei Ying isn’t an idiot. It’s just nice to play pretend sometimes.

“It is not stupid, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, putting an arm around Wei Ying’s waist. Fuck, Wei Ying must look worse than he feels if Lan Zhan is deviating from their carefully negotiated PDA contract. The agreement was hand holding only. Wei Ying lobbied for more, trying to bribe Lan Zhan with blowjobs, but ultimately, he was defeated.

“Dunno.”

“We can adopt one day,” Lan Zhan says. His fingers dig into Wei Ying’s waist and he needs to remind himself that they’re at a work party. No ravishing allowed if they’d like to keep their jobs. “I would like to raise a child with you. We will have options.”

Wei Ying takes a breath — one might call it shuddering, if one was so inclined — and somehow doesn’t manage to bury his face in Lan Zhan’s neck. He knows Lan Zhan loves him. He does. Wei Ying doubts a lot of things, but Lan Zhan’s love is not one of them. However, knowing is not understanding and there are bad days when he wakes up and wonders how it’s possible that Lan Zhan sees him and thinks, you, you are the one that I’ve chosen, you and no other. Enough to want to have kids together! The mind, it boggles.

“I’d like that,” Wei Ying says, palming Lan Zhan’s cheek. If Lan Zhan can ignore their PDA contract, so can Wei Ying. “How are you so perfect?”

“I am not,” Lan Zhan says at once.

And Wei Ying is very aware that’s true. Lan Zhan can be petty and occasionally has a temper about things he cares truly about. It’s not even the yelling type of temper, but the righteous anger type temper, which to be fair, can be pretty hot. That temper has never once been directed at Wei Ying or at any of his direct reports, though. He saves his temper for the people and organizations who really deserve it. Like PETA.

“That’s true, you’re not,” Wei Ying concedes, bumping their shoulders together. “But you’re perfect for me.”

“You are perfect for me,” Lan Zhan says and the certainty in his voice is a balm over Wei Ying’s soul. “We are perfect for each other.

There is literally no coherent response Wei Ying can make to that. So he rests his head on Lan Zhan’s shoulders, trusting Lan Zhan will know what Wei Ying wants to say.

Their fingers linger together and Wei Ying looks over his shoulder. The buffet should open soon. He wants to get a spot near the front so he can grab a vegetarian plate for Lan Zhan so he doesn’t have to be stuck in the middle of the mindless hordes all wanting their chicken marsala or baked mostaccioli. Wei Ying? He doesn’t mind making two trips for food. Especially since he’ll grab a couple of extra rolls for himself during the first trip.

“Head back?” Wei Ying asks.

They turn to walk back, their palms still together. Bonus hand-holding in front of the associates. Love it. This was not in the PDA contract. Maybe his bribe bought some concessions after all? As they walk back into the party room, Wei Ying decides he is very okay with that.

February, Fiscal Year 2020

Wei Ying wants to tell him something.

Lan Zhan reads him easily; Wei Ying has so many tells. This specific one, sitting up straight at the kitchen table while they eat, is one of his more worrisome tells. It’s the one Wei Ying has whenever he has to fire someone, or announce a change that he knows the associates won’t like. And now this tell is in Lan Zhan’s home, in his kitchen.

A lifetime of silence during meals can’t be broken because of news Wei Ying needs to share. So Lan Zhan stays quiet, pondering, while Wei Ying talks. Lan Zhan is fairly certain this has nothing to do about their relationship. When Wei Ying let himself into Lan Zhan’s house, using his own key, Wei Ying called out, honey, I’m home as is usual. Whenever Wei Ying stays over on a work day, Lan Zhan almost always beats Wei Ying to the house. Lan Zhan also is always at work by seven-thirty in the morning and unless there’s an early morning meeting, Wei Ying never arrives before nine o’clock.

Lan Zhan decides there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it’s either family related or work related. He’s not sure which he would prefer.

Once they finish eating, Wei Ying hops up and starts putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Lan Zhan cleans the kitchen as he cooks, so Wei Ying always insists on doing any remaining cleanup after they eat. It’s small considerations like that which makes Lan Zhan love him so much. Wei Ying is kind.

As they walk into the living room — cleanup didn’t take long at all — Lan Zhan debates whether he should outright ask Wei Ying if everything is okay or if he should wait for Wei Ying to tell him on his own terms. Waiting wins out. He trusts Wei Ying.

They settle on the sectional, Lan Zhan on one end, Wei Ying at the other, his feet in Lan Zhan’s lap. “Keep going with The Mandalorian?” Wei Ying asks.

Lan Zhan nods and starts the next episode. They get through half — Wei Ying wondering if Timothy Olyphant is better looking than he was five years ago which Lan Zhan most certainly agrees — before Wei Ying is ready to say what’s really on his mind.

“Lan Zhan?” Just the way Wei Ying says his name tells Lan Zhan that it’s time to talk. Lan Zhan mutes the TV and looks over at Wei Ying, who stands up and walks over to Lan Zhan’s side of the sectional. “Scoot over just a bit, will you?”

Seeing no reason not to, Lan Zhan complies. Wei Ying immediately sits down sideways, back against the arm of the sectional, his legs covering Lan Zhan’s thighs. Lan Zhan swallows, wondering what exactly Wei Ying wants to discuss. “Wei Ying? Is everything alright?”

“Sure is,” Wei Ying says, far too brightly

Lan Zhan puts his hands on Wei Ying’s legs, grounding him. Now he’s nervous. Wei Ying’s tone means everything is on the table. Including them. “Would you like to talk about something?”

Wei Ying nods and places his hands over Lan Zhan’s. “We’ve never really talked about the future — don’t look at me like that, yes, I know we’ve talked about our future but like our career future. Like the what do you want to be when you grow up, future.”

Lan Zhan blinks, not sure what to say with that. They are customer service managers. There’s not a lot of room for growth, not unless he’s willing to get an MBA so he can become a Director of Customer Service, which quite frankly, is not nearly as appealing as it was a year ago, before he met Wei Ying. His priorities simply have changed. After ten years with Furniture Farm, he gets twenty vacation days, plus ten sick days. If he ever decided to leave, maybe to a different call center with more associates and a bigger budget, he’d have to start all over again.

He’d have to leave Wei Ying.

“Oh fuck, I’m just gonna say it,” Wei Ying says, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “Mister Yao is retiring. Corporate posted a job opening for a Manager of Home Delivery. Today. And I think you should apply for it.”

Lan Zhan stares down at Wei Ying’s thighs, which cover his own thighs, and tries to think. There’s white noise in his head and he’s not sure what to do. He’s worked with Mister Yao for a long time and has a good idea of his responsibilities. The move would be more lateral than anything else. But home delivery is under the supply chain department and yes, there is plenty of room for advancement there. But why should he leave Customer Service? He knows Customer Service. And even if he’s still never spoken to a customer on the phone, he’s good at it. And now Wei Ying thinks things should change?

“Why do you think—”

“You’re bored, Lan Zhan. Don’t try to deny it, I can tell,” Wei Ying says, squeezing his hand. “You’ve done this job for four years and you’ve done an amazing job, but is this really what you want to do for the rest of your life?”

Lan Zhan tries to picture himself in ten years, married to Wei Ying with hopefully a couple of children, working in Operations the entire time. Answering the same questions day after day, dealing with various platform changes every six months, and updating SOP after SOP. To his surprise, it doesn’t make a pretty picture. Wei Ying is right and Lan Zhan had absolutely no idea.

There are drawbacks though.

“He works in the corporate office most of the time,” Lan Zhan says quietly. “I wouldn’t be able to see you during the day.”

They’re practically living together in all but paperwork. The only night Wei Ying doesn’t regularly stay over is Tuesday, when Lan Zhan has rehearsal with his community orchestra and Wei Ying gives beginning art lessons at the park district. They would see each other at night and early morning, sure. But Lan Zhan would miss the easy way Wei Ying just walks into his office, completely confident of his welcome, even if Lan Zhan is in the middle of a meeting. He’s used to having Wei Ying close all day long.

“It’s not like we wouldn’t talk, Lan Zhan. I will blow up your gchat even more than I do now,” Wei Ying says, playing with Lan Zhan’s hand. Good, he needs that connection right now. “I will sext you all the time on your cell. But, like, respectfully. I’ll check your calendar and shit and not sext you during a meeting. At least not important ones.”

Lan Zhan lets out a sound, maybe a laugh, maybe a cough, maybe a groan. “This is a lot to think about.”

“No, it’s really not,” Wei Ying says, and his voice is quiet. Lan Zhan has learned to truly listen when Wei Ying’s voice is quiet like this. “Now is not the time to think. You apply. Corporate Human Resources takes their sweet ass time like always in scheduling the interviews. Then, if— no, when, because they would be hella stupid not to give you the job — when they offer you the position, that’s when you think and make a decision.”

Wei Ying slides over so that he’s straddling Lan Zhan, their chests pressed together. “You truly believe I should do this?” Lan Zhan asks. 

“Yep. Home delivery is a hot mess right now, we both know that,” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan grunts in agreement. Home delivery is not what it was ten years ago when he started with the company. “You could bring some order to the chaos. Which, at the end of the day, will make my job so much fucking easier, Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying nuzzles into Lan Zhan’s neck, causing Lan Zhan to close his eyes. Wei Ying hasn’t shaved in close to two weeks and the scruff against his skin is doing things to Lan Zhan. “Make my job and the job of two hundred associates easier? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“A cherry makes a convincing argument.”

“Look, you’ll have a job that challenges you and actually has career growth and I’ll have a happier boyfriend. It’s win-win,” Wei Ying says, kissing Lan Zhan’s cheek. “And then there’s my most important argument.”

“What could possibly be better than a cherry?” Lan Zhan asks dryly.

“Two words. Corporate parties. It’s absolute bullshit that customer service isn’t invited to the corporate parties, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines. “But if you’re corporate, you’ll get to go to the parties. And I’ll get to be your plus one. We’ll see how the other half lives. It’ll be amazing. ”

“I hate parties.”

Wei Ying holds him a little tighter, and Lan Zhan tries to relax in his embrace. “But I love them. And I can be, I dunno, like your own personal networker. Everyone will remember the ridiculously beautiful man with the boyfriend who doesn’t know how to shut up.”

“You know how,” Lan Zhan chides gently, “you just strategically choose not to most of the time.”

“Wow, okay, then. We’re supposed to be discussing your future, Lan Zhan. Perceiving me is not on the agenda for tonight,” Wei Ying says. “Nope, not tonight. Tonight is all about you.”

Lan Zhan decides his hands have been on Wei Ying’s hips long enough and he slides them down to cup Wei Ying’s ass. His hands should have been there this entire time. His hands should basically never not be on Wei Ying’s ass. The only obvious exception when his hands should be on Wei Ying’s cock.

“Dude,” Wei Ying hisses, and turns out of Lan Zhan’s arms, moving quickly to the other side of the sectional. “Not in front of Baby Yoda.”

Very deliberately, Lan Zhan picks up the remote control from the end table and turns off the TV. He doesn’t want to be thinking about the job or his career anymore. How is it possible that a ten minute conversation with Wei Ying is going to change the course of his entire life? Tomorrow, he will put his employee number into the careers portal and apply for the position. Immediately afterward, he will email Nie Mingjue to let him know what he’s done.

Lan Zhan knows his worth and Furniture Farm would be foolish not to hire him for the position. Already he’s thinking of changes that could be made and processes that need to be updated. He will continue to advocate for changes to make the company more environmentally conscious and will have more power to get those changes made.

He will take Wei Ying to corporate parties.

That’s enough thinking about his career for tonight. So just as deliberately as he picked up the remote, he puts it back down and slowly turns his head to look at Wei Ying, who is already transfixed. Keeping eye contact with Wei Ying, Lan Zhan unbuttons his slacks and unzips his fly.

Wei Ying lets out a slight whimper.

“Wei Ying.”

“Fuck, yes, this is the best possible ending to this conversation,” Wei Ying says, crawling across the sectional and planting himself back in Lan Zhan’s lap. “We are so good at this grown-up talking thing.”

Not exactly true and they both know it. But they have the rest of their lives to work on their communication skills.

They kiss and tonight, Lan Zhan is the one who wants bruises, who wants to feel the heat of Wei Ying inside him. Wants to be reminded without a doubt that even if they won’t see each other during the day, Wei Ying is still his and he is Wei Ying’s. 

Later, when Lan Zhan is on his stomach with Wei Ying thrusting into him, Lan Zhan sighs happily into the pillow. If his eleven year journey in customer service is at an end, he will always be grateful since it led him to Wei Ying. It would be worth actually talking to a customer on the phone, just for that.

March, First Day of Fiscal Year 2021

His old office was bigger. Not by much, but enough that Lan Zhan can tell.

Lan Zhan never really wanted an office. Too much wasted space when a cubicle and access to a conference room would do. But seeing as some departments in the corporate office are trying out an open space concept, Lan Zhan will take his office.

He takes stock of his new desk. L-shape, like he requested. A dock for his laptop and an extra monitor, also at his request. Working with only one monitor would significantly slow down his production when it’s more important than ever. Two bland plastic chairs sit in front of his desk. Lan Zhan will replace them with something more comfortable. Perhaps Wei Ying can help him choose, as he has been given a small stipend for office decor.

Against one wall is a low filing cabinet. Overall, it’s an office. Smaller than his last one. Pushing that thought aside, Lan Zhan sits down in his new desk chair and opens his laptop. As it starts up, Lan Zhan fiddles with the desk chair to make it as ergonomic as possible.

Then Lan Zhan checks his email. There are many. So he checks his gchats and is surprised to see one from Wei Ying, sent two hours ago, so just when Lan Zhan would have left the house to go to work. One of the drawbacks of the new position is the slightly longer commute, which now takes almost thirty minutes. 

There’s no message from Wei Ying, just a picture. Lan Zhan clicks and a selfie of Wei Ying in bed, huddled under the covers, appears. His hair is tousled and he looks exhausted, but there Wei Ying is, giving Lan Zhan a thumbs up on his first day of the new job.

Enough time has passed that Wei Ying should be in his own office by now and Lan Zhan decides to respond in the only way that makes sense to him: they should officially move in together.

Lan Zhan: When is the lease to your apartment up?

Wei Ying: I’ve got all ten supervisors in my office right now, Lan Zhan. I think they’re staging a coup. Or maybe a riot. And you chose this exact moment to ask me to move in with you?

Wei Ying: Unless you weren’t asking me to move in with you and just wanted to randomly know about my lease, like, weird, but okay

Lan Zhan: Wei Ying.

Wei Ying: I mean, the answer is yes, obviously. Lease is up in June. I won’t renew.

Wei Ying: But the supervisors are about to riot, Lan Zhan. I have to convince them somehow that I’m not a member of the bourgeois. What if they have guillotines?

Lan Zhan: You are salaried, Wei Ying. To them, clearly you are the oppressor.

Wei Ying: Goddammit, you’re right. Well, if I don’t make it home tonight, you know my head is on a pike in the parking lot

Lan Zhan: Vive la revolution.

Wei Ying: You won’t be laughing if my head is on a pike, Lan Zhan. You can’t do inappropriate things to discuss in work gchat to me if I’m headless. Okay, I have to be serious and put on my manager voice now. Ttyl

Lan Zhan brushes the laptop screen, just where Wei Ying’s icon is, with his thumb. His icon is a selfie of some sort, where he’s smiling effortlessly at the camera, squinting slightly, as if the sun is just a touch too bright. Whatever associate sees that icon will know exactly the type of manager Wei Ying is: kind, supportive, and ready to listen. Lan Zhan’s icon simply doesn’t have the same qualities. Once he became a manager, he booked a quick session at a mall photography studio, the type where families get their holiday cards and children take annual photos with ridiculous props. Lan Zhan wore a suit and tie, a light grey background behind him, and stared into the camera without smiling. Anytime he needs a photo at work — which happens a surprising amount — he uses that photo, a photo that says he is serious, dependable, and organized.

Perhaps it’s time for a new one.

He has an hour before his next meeting, giving him plenty of time to unpack and set up his office just the way he wants it. In the corner is a Trader Joe’s bag full of his personal effects. He pulls out his framed college diploma and places it in a filing cabinet. No point of hanging it now, not when his office will be painted this weekend. Another bonus of the corporate headquarters: the facilities team will paint the office whatever color he wants. Lan Zhan chose a calming light blue color. Wei Ying went on a tirade when Lan Zhan told him the news, said he would paint his own office a bright red, himself. Red enough that when they made him paint over it, the color would still bleed through. Lan Zhan half believes Wei Ying will come home covered in red paint some day.

Next, a small framed picture Wei Ying drew of the two of them, colored in with the copic markers Lan Zhan gave Wei Ying for Christmas. Lan Zhan couldn’t have asked for a more wonderful present. In the picture, Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are simply looking at each other, holding hands. Behind them the sky is impossibly blue with fluffy white clouds as they stand in front of a lotus pond. Lan Zhan gives it a place of honor on his desk, where it will always be in his sight

Not even ten minutes have passed and Lan Zhan is suddenly feeling anxious, that he should actually be working instead of decorating. The feeling is ridiculous, he knows it’s ridiculous, but that doesn’t stop the worry. The fact that he hasn’t been trained or know any of the Home Delivery internal procedures isn’t stopping his brain from wanting to fix things now. So he sits back down and checks his email. Email he can do. Perhaps create some new labels and sub-labels or make some new folders in his Drive. Options.

And then another gchat from Wei Ying pops up and he can’t answer fast enough.

Wei Ying: Hey, can I log into your Instagram account? I need pictures of cute baby animals, stat

Lan Zhan: Of course. You survived the coup attempt? 

Wei Ying: Barely. They don’t want to train the associates on the new messaging platform, which is legit fair. Like, what even is the point of our training team if we’re making the supervisors give training courses? It’s like a four hour session, too. It sucks. Luo Qingyang needs to meet me in the pit

Lan Zhan: What did you tell them?

Wei Ying: Told them I would train the associates instead. You said you’ll probably have some late nights coming up, right? I can handle some OT if it makes my supervisors happy

Lan Zhan: Wei Ying.

Wei Ying: What? It’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m totally over worked or anything.

Wei Ying: I’m purposely changing the subject now and it will be very rude if you go back to it.

Wei Ying: Have you finished unpacking?

Lan Zhan: I have not.

Wei Ying: Thought not. You should finish unpacking. Byeeeeeee!

Lan Zhan stands up, more curious than he has a right to be. The Traders Joe’s bag is there, waiting. But then a gchat from Wen Ning comes in, asking some questions about an SOP Lan Zhan hadn’t quite finished editing before he left. And then another member of the Operations team. A half hour passes before Lan Zhan has a chance to blink. This cannot become the norm. Customer Service hasn’t filled his Operations Manager position yet, but he cannot handle trying to do two jobs at once. Not when his focus needs to be on his new path.

After closing his laptop, Lan Zhan walks to the Trader Joe’s bag. The next thing is a number of paper files that he’s decided to keep: old reviews and kudos cards and such. And at the bottom, is his cardigan. He pulls it out and quickly realizes that it’s not his cardigan at all. It’s new. It looks similar, but the color is a little darker and the trim a little thicker. Lan Zhan checks the brand, and yes, it’s made by his favorite sustainable designer.

Then he sees the note.

Lan Zhan! I’m so proud of you! However, I have some news. After more than six months together, your old cardigan and I decided we couldn’t bear to be parted, so it’s basically mine now forever. But I can’t have you chilly in that big ol’ corporate office, so I bought you a new one! I might have worn it a lot when you weren’t around, so it should hopefully smell like me? At least in theory?

I’ll be waiting for you at home tonight and I can’t wait to hear about your day. I’ll be wearing your, I mean, my cardigan. And nothing else. We’ll have a threesome.

Lan Zhan swallows, and brings the cardigan up to his face, taking a deep breath. The scent isn’t strong, but there’s a hint of spice that Lan Zhan always associates with Wei Ying. It’s perfect. The temperature in the office is mild; he has no need to wear the cardigan.

That doesn’t stop him from putting it on, letting the cardigan surround him like a hug from Wei Ying. He and Wei Ying will gchat throughout the day, never being really far from each other. Wei Ying has already told Lan Zhan that he will demand selfies throughout the day, and perhaps Lan Zhan could request some as well. Then tonight, well, five minutes ago Lan Zhan would have said their night would consist of making dinner, maybe finally finishing up The Mandalorian. Now? Wei Ying seems to have other plans for the two of them, which Lan Zhan whole-heartedly agrees with.

Then tomorrow? Tomorrow, for the first time in a long time, Lan Zhan sees possibilities everywhere.