ᴀʀᴛ ʙʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ_ᴀᴍᴇʙᴀ ᴏɴ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴛᴇʀ
Mafia leader Lan WangJi
& single dad Wei WuXian.
ᴅᴏᴍᴇsᴛɪᴄ ғʟᴜғғ | ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ | ᴡᴡx ʜᴀs ᴀ ᴍᴜsᴄʟᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ | ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴡᴊ ʜᴀs ᴛᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇᴍ
☾
A father's hands worked as if they were made for folding laundry at one in the morning. The glare of a neon sign cast lavender shadows across the room. It was the bar across the street. The buzz kept him up at night—not the buzz of liquor, no—the literal fucking buzz of that obnoxious neon sign.
Wei WuXian slumped forward.
For the last four years, Wei WuXian was a single dad to Wei Yuan, but he hadn't figured it out. He never worked less than seventy hours a week, still, he and his son lived paycheck to paycheck. Some days, he sold himself beneath the same neon sign that kept him awake every night.
As long as Wei Yuan was happy, Wei WuXian would never give up. But it was hard. He was tired. He was so tired.
"Baba?" A small voice whispered.
"What's wrong, A-Yuan?" He set aside a pair of holed socks and looked up at their bed. They lived in a studio apartment with two rooms: the bathroom, and everything else. "Why are you up?"
Wei Yuan hummed an 'I don't know.' He hugged his radish plushie, thinking, and asked, "Can we make a cake foh the new neighboh?"
"Go to sleep. We can talk in the morning," Wei WuXian mumbled, barely. His tongue was cramped by three-jobs-worth of sweet talking and forced smiles as a boss's hands forget boundaries and wedding vows. The chill of a ring up his back. The bullish cackle. The accusations of prudishness.
Wei WuXian was tired.
But whenever he looked at Wei Yuan, he couldn't help but think everything would be okay. As long as Wei Yuan was happy.
"Okay. Okay." Sighing like an old motor, Wei WuXian set the laundry basket aside and sat down on the stiff mattress. "I have the afternoon off tomorrow. We can bake a cake then, alright?"
"Mn!"
He blew a raspberry on the boy's forehead, relishing in the fit of throaty giggles that filled the room, quieting the neon buzz. "Now go to sleep you rascal!"
The cake smelled wonderful. Wei WuXian had learned to bake many years back, taught by his... by Jiang Yanli. If he could, he'd buy a little bakery, the kind on street corners with French awnings and wooden flower boxes, an old-fashioned bike leant against the wall. But sweets don't pay the bills. Nothing sweet does.
As it turned out, this new neighbor was just two doors down.
Wei WuXian wrung his sweaty hands together like a damp cloth. When was the last time he interacted with another adult human being outside of work? What is he supposed to talk about? The weather? Sports?
A-Yuan tugged on his pant leg.
"Baba, can I knock?" Wei Yuan was excited by knocking. It made him feel like a big boy with more reason in his fist than crushing crayons.
"Go ahead, little radish."
What do I say? Should I welcome him or introduce myself? Or should I introduce A-Yuan first? Should I—
The door opened.
Oh no he's hot.
Long black hair, pulled back in a low pony, was the first thing Wei WuXian noticed. It was impossibly smooth, not a single stray hair reaching for the static of electric wires. The man gazed through soft brown eyes. He had an old soul, one of 18th-century whiskey and Golden Age poetry. Think grandfather clocks. Then there was his smell. Sandalwood and vanilla, quiet and comforting. Hazy clouds drifted above each brow. The ink was sophisticated, light, different than the backs of tatted-up Yakuza.
Something was off though, to Wei WuXian. This man was pure and discreetly wealthy. He didn't belong in this rundown motel-turned-apartment.
Wei WuXian realized he was staring. "A-Ah," He cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. No, I was not just eye-fucking you. "H-Hello, welcome to Yiling Apartments. My son, A-Yuan, wanted to make you a housewarming gift."
A-Yuan held up the dish, almost tripping over his own feet. He grinned, "It's pink! And sparkly! A-Yuan likes pink."
The man still hadn't spoken, but his daisy pink lips smiled, and he crouched to receive the cake from Wei Yuan's hands.
"Pink is nice," the man said sincerely. "Thank you."
While kneeling, Wei WuXian could see into his shirt. His shoulders were also tattooed with the same cloud motifs as his forehead. Oh, and those muscles. His chest was broad and so grippable.Wei WuXian imagined digging his fingernails into them as he was railed into—
No. Bad Wei Ying.
My poor, poor A-Yuan. Your daddy's a pervert.
"Lan Zhan, courtesy Lan WangJi."
Lan WangJi offered him a hand.
"W-Wei Ying. Wei WuXian."
His hand was warm. It lingered around his. The warmth throbbed like a fever, building between his thighs.
Wei WuXian yanked his hand back, stuttering, "A-A-Yuan, we have to get you to your doctor's appointment!"
"Baba? What d—"
"Bye Lan Zhan!" He ushered A-Yuan back down the hall.
Shit shit shit shit shit why did he have to be hot!?
Lan WangJi felt his bird-caged heart began to beat.
Wei WuXian was beautiful. High cheek bones swooped into thin cheeks, a prologue to plump, feminine lips. His hips were wide enough to bear children but he was undeniably masculine between the legs.
Lan WangJi wanted to bend him over the counter and fuck him senseless.
Lan WangJi, the twenty-eight year old virgin who'd never had a hard-on a day in his life wanted to bend a stranger over the counter.
It didn't help that the very next day, Wei WuXian was bent over in the mail room wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and tight shorts.
Lan WangJi faltered, dropping his keys to the ground which made Wei WuXian yelp.
The poor man tugged on his shirt's hem, trying to hide his bare legs.
"S-Sorry, I'm not used to having neighbors... A-Yuan and I have been the only tenants for the last few months. Well, us and the roaches."
Wei WuXian was red. Even his thighs had a rose's blush to them.
"It's f-fine," Lan WangJi finally replied, opening his mailbox. He tried to ignore the temptation on legs beside him, but Wei WuXian was staring him down.
"Hm," the man hummed thoughtfully. "Hey, Lan Zhan, if you don't mind me asking, why would someone like you choose a place like... this?"
"Like me?"
"Your ring is worth a hundred K easily."
Lan WangJi subconsciously touched his hand. He'd forgotten to take it off. Mother's ring...
"I..."
"Ah, shit!" Glancing at the clock hanging off the wall by a wire, Wei WuXian slammed his box shut. "I have to get to work. Buh-bye, Lan Zhan!"
Smooch!
Only when Wei WuXian rounded the corner did he realize what he'd done. He always kissed A-Yuan goodbye. Without thinking, he'd planted a big old kiss on the hot neighbor's cheek!
Fuck my life.
Later that night, there was a knock on the door.
Lan WangJi was standing there half-naked with a towel around his hips.
Wei WuXian gulped.
Fuck.
This was definitely retaliation for the kiss.
"G-G-Good morn—night! Good night! Oh, that doesn't make sense either. Wait, why is 'good morning' strictly a greeting, while 'good night' is strictly a farewell? A-And what about 'good evening'? How come 'good evening' is both a greeting and a goodbye?"
Oh god. I'm rambling.
Lan WangJi's shoulders were built for carrying a lover's trembling thighs.
"L-Language is—is weird, huh?"
Drops of water trickled down his body, glowing like amethysts in the light of the neon sign. Wei WuXian followed them down his broad chest and toned stomach, down the V of his abdomen, to the shape of masculinity beneath his towel.
"Wh-what, uh, what do you need?"
"I am out of shampoo. May I borrow yours?"
Wei WuXian chucked a bottle at him and slammed the door in his face.
This means war, Lan WangJi.
☽
Sorry this is a bit short!
It's an introductory chapter,
but the next chapters will go into
more depth. For now just enjoy the
start of LWJ and WWX's unspoken
out-seduce-the-other-feud.
I will go into way more depth in the next few chapters. Think of this chapter as a trailer ;)