The thing is, Wei Ying knows about pon farr. Not because Lan Zhan told him--not even a half-Vulcan would dream of talking about something so personal, especially not with a human. But Wei Ying likes to read Wen Qing’s medical texts in his spare time. Not the ones on human physiology, those are boring, but the ones about other species.
(“The weird ones, Qing-jie! The weirder, the better!”
“We-wei-xiong, ’weird’ is not a polite way to t-t-alk about other species.”
“I meant it as a compliment, Wen Ning!”)
And okay, maybe he’s been particularly fascinated by anything about Vulcans for years now. As a kid, he was more interested in reading about Ferengi or Jem’Hadar but that had changed when he arrived at the Academy and met Lan Zhan.
First semester Intro to Astrophysics, seventeen minutes into class, and Wei Ying gave some smart answer to Commander Ranganathan. A head in the first row turned slowly in Wei Ying’s direction, and the very controlled grace of the movement caught his eye--every other head had whipped around to stare at the smartass who was already mouthing off to professors on the very first day of classes. Wei Ying barely had time to be surprised at the pointed ears--Vulcans were rare at the Academy--when a pair of strange, light eyes met his. He sucked in a breath as those eyes pierced him like a photon torpedo and then flicked away dismissively. A pulse of something ran through Wei Ying, and he couldn’t determine whether it was hot or cold, but that afternoon, he shrugged off Jiang Cheng and his new roommate Nie Huaisang to head to the library where he sought out every available text about Vulcan culture and history.
(Wei Ying was infamous on campus for never studying but somehow pulling perfect scores, but he actually could study when he wanted to, and do it well. He just...didn’t care to do it, most of the time.)
Vulcan physiology was more difficult, since there were so few texts on the subject available off of Vulcan itself. Luckily, Wei Ying made friends with Wen Qing the next semester and having a roommate who was destined to be a chief medical officer made finding those texts somewhat easier.
(Only somewhat. Wen Qing is impervious to Wei Ying’s charms--all of them! from sweet-talking to pouting! it’s almost like she doesn’t find Wei Ying adorable at all!--and she was always so busy that she had no desire to spend her limited free time searching for obscure texts just to satisfy Wei Ying’s “Vulcan fetish.” Eventually, he wrangled an arrangement that involved tutoring Wen Ning in exchange for various other favors. Of course, he would have tutored Wen Ning anyway, but it was better to get something out of it if he could.)
And sure, the inner eyelids and superfast heartbeats (and green blood!) was interesting and all. So was the whole heart-where-a-liver-should-be thing. But it was the telepathic stuff that really interested Wei Ying, all those weird Vulcan brain functions. At first he was baffled that a species that so disdained emotion could sense the emotions of others, but honestly, once he thought about it, it made sense.
What did not make sense was pon farr. The first time he read about it, he thought it had to be some kind of joke. Every seven years, the mating drive totally takes over and a Vulcan could die if they didn’t mate within eight days? That sounded like something made up by particularly derivative porn producers. But though there were only a handful of texts on the phenomenon, they were all completely consistent and written by a series of highly respected experts. After completing his research, Wei Ying had to admit to himself that pon farr was real.
Reading about it had made Wei Ying laugh himself sick. The thought of Lan Zhan falling into a violent, uncontrollable fury to mate was hilarious until that night when Wei Ying bolted upright out of sleep, sweaty and shaking and sticky. From then on, it was just devastating, and despite his terrible memory, that particular factoid snagged in the back of Wei Ying’s mind and has never really left.
The one time Wei Ying tried to tease Lan Zhan about it (because if he could make it a topic of comedy again, maybe he wouldn’t have those dreams every few months?), Lan Zhan had turned so green--with fury? or embarrassment? knowing Lan Zhan, probably both--that Wei Ying honestly expected little clouds of steam to burst out of his ears like in 20th century Earth cartoons. But it was different than Lan Zhan’s usual anger when Wei Ying set the lab on fire again or got tossed out of class by Professor Q’iren. The corners of Lan Zhan’s eyes went tense in a way that was panicked, almost hurt, his mouth a little desperate, and Wei Ying dropped it and never brought it up again. He isn’t that much of an asshole.
(Once or twice a year, though, he still has the dreams. He tries to forget them, because that is not the way he wants to think about his best friend, but his memory is just as contrary as every other part of his personality, and he can’t quite manage to shake them.)
He’d done some math, though, involving what he knows about Lan Zhan’s visits to his homeworld, and from what he can figure, there are two more years until Lan Zhan’s cycle reaches pon farr.
So when Lan Zhan starts acting...different, Wei Ying is as shocked as anyone.
Captain Nie doesn’t allow Wei Ying to be part of the landing party very often. Despite the stereotypes about Klingons, the captain is very sensitive to the feelings of his crew, so his stated reason for this is that he needs his chief engineer to be aboard the Cultivator should anything happen to the engine. But everyone knows the real reason is that whenever he goes planetside, Wei Ying tends to...get into trouble.
But today, Captain Nie has no choice, because no one else knows how to operate the new device Wei Ying invented yet. So Wei Ying waves goodbye to MianMian and the rest of engineering, bounds to the transporter room with the Chenqing 32 tucked under his arm, and bounces into place beside Lan Zhan.
“A new planet, Lan Zhan! Strange worlds! Fresh air! It--wait, it does have fresh air, right?” Wei Ying never got around to reading the report on this particular planet. He figured if there was anything out of the ordinary, Lan Zhan would tell him.
“Class L planet, extensive vegetation, devoid of fauna, three moons, unusually high measurements of iron oxide in the atmosphere,” Lan Zhan rattles off. Of course he’s memorized everything about this place they’ll only spend a few hours on at best. He holds out a confection bar (Lan Zhan always assumes that Wei Ying hasn’t remembered to eat today, and he’s usually right), and Wei Ying hands him the Chenqing to hold while he eats.
“So the sky is going to be red?” Wei Ying says around a mouthful of food.
“Orange at most,” Lan Zhan corrects, not even bothering to remind him not to talk with his mouth full.
“Whatever. I love a different-colored sky! Oh! It’ll be kind of like Vulcan, won’t it?”
The humming noise Lan Zhan makes is his noncommittal one that could mean anything. Wei Ying doesn’t have a chance to pursue this because just then Jiang Cheng enters the transporter room ahead of the Captain and First Officer Lan, scowling already. Jiang Cheng doesn’t like visiting new planets, which probably isn’t the best characteristic for a security officer in Starfleet, but he always does his job well. Captain Nie pats him on the shoulder. “Look after my engineer and my science officer, Lieutenant Jiang,” he says. Then he turns to Wei Ying. “Lieutenant Commander Wei, is the Chenqing ready to go?”
Wei Ying gives him a jaunty salute with the last bite of his snack and a confident smile and ignores Jiang Cheng’s subsequent eye roll. “Ship-shape, captain!”
“Very good, then. I look forward to your report. And...do try to keep your focus on this test run, all right?”
“Of course, sir!”
Wei Ying is amused that the captain doesn’t bother to give Lan Zhan instructions, but then Lan Zhan always does everything perfectly, so it’s not like he needs them. First Officer Lan is giving his little brother that face that says that he wants to hug him but is refraining because he knows Lan Zhan doesn’t like it. Wei Ying offers him a sympathetic smile before stuffing the last bite in his mouth, and he, Lan Zhan, and Jiang Cheng take their places on the transporter pad.
“You don’t think that thing is actually going to work, do you?” Jiang Cheng demands, crossing his arms as usual.
“Wei Ying’s inventions are uniformly excellent,” Lan Zhan says in that stiff way that says he’s offended, but that’s his usual demeanor whenever Jiang Cheng is in the room.
Jiang Cheng snorts. “Sure. After nearly blowing up the engine room a few dozen times, they work great. Until they don’t. What number prototype is that again? Didn’t the first thirty-one fail?”
Lan Zhan’s mouth twitches and opens to say something that will no doubt devolve this whole conversation into one of their petty bitch fights, but thankfully just then Captain Nie says, “Engage!” and then there’s the finger-tingling of being beamed down.
Wei Ying always gets a little rush to the head when he transports, like taking the first sip of a milkshake too quickly, except that it isn’t cold. By the time he’s shaken his head and blinked enough that stars aren’t flashing in his eyes, Jiang Cheng already has his phaser out and is scanning everything with that serious expression on his face that makes Wei Ying want to tease him. Lan Zhan, of course, is making tricorder readings, so Wei Ying takes that as permission to take a look around.
The terrain is fairly rocky but studded with brushy vegetation, mostly in shades of purple and violet instead of green, and the temperature is hotter than Wei Ying prefers, but bearable. The sky is more beige than anything, though some of the wispy clouds to the east are lit up in a tangerine hue that is cheering. It’s not the prettiest skyscape he’s ever seen, but after six months on a starship, any sky is a delight.
“Lan Zhan! Is this what the sky looks like on Vulcan?”
Lan Zhan does not look up from his tricorder. “Vulcan’s sky is considerably more vivid in hue.”
Wei Ying bursts into giggles. “Lan Zhan, are you offended that I compared this planet to yours? I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to insult the unparalleled beauty that is Vulcan! It’s just, I’ve never seen it myself, so how could I know? You’ll have to take me there and show it to me, Lan Zhan, so that I never make that mistake again, okay?”
“Stop making vacation plans and let’s get this over with so we can get back to the ship,” Jiang Cheng says, stomping back to them but keeping his eyes roving around. He is a good head of security.
“Okay, okay,” Wei Ying agrees, and switches on the Chenqing. It makes a homey little humming sound when it’s running, not because it needs to--it could have run silently if Wei Ying had wanted it to--but because Wei Ying finds machines that let you know that they’re working more comforting.
Lan Zhan comes over and stands exactly two centimeters closer to Wei Ying than he would to anyone else (he only stands one centimeter closer to his brother, and the fact that Wei Ying rates higher than Lan Xichen has always been a source of giddy triumph to him). Wei Ying beams up at him, happy that he’s interested, even though of course he is, he’s spent the last three months listening to Wei Ying complain about this thing over every meal or between every sparring bout or through every game of 3D chess. At this point he probably just wants the damn thing to work so that Wei Ying will shut up about it.
It does. When the spectroscope spits out its readings, Wei Ying lets out a whoop.
“You did well, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, and his eyes soften in that way that would be barely noticeable on anyone else but that is the equivalent of a grin on a Vulcan. It always makes something swoop in Wei Ying’s stomach. He beams back at Lan Zhan.
“Readings are accurate to three places after the decimal! After that, they get a big wonky, but that should be a fairly easy fix.”
He’ll probably need to do the real work on it back in engineering with all of his tools and equipment, but he plops down on the ground to see if he can do some tweaking right now, muttering to himself as he works.
When he looks up some time later, Lan Zhan has wandered over to a bush heavy with violently-hued flowers of varying sizes and is studying it, his head tilted to the side in that Vulcan way that makes Wei Ying’s heart seize at the cuteness. Wei Ying grins; trust Lan Zhan to find the weirdest-looking thing on the planet and be fascinated by it.
“Having fun, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks, going back to his tinkering.
“These blooms are intriguing,” Lan Zhan says.
And then he makes a small, curious noise. Wei Ying looks up just in time to see the bloom in question--a neon-pink frowsy thing the size of a dinner plate--shudder and then poof out a cloud of gold powder. The powder catches Lan Zhan full in the face, and Lan Zhan blinks and blinks again, going a little cross-eyed, and then sneezes, and that would also be cute enough to make Wei Ying’s heart seize, if anxiety hadn’t gotten to it first.
“Lan Zhan!”
He’s at Lan Zhan’s side in a millisecond, and it’s only when he’s using his sleeve to wipe the stuff off of Lan Zhan’s face that he realizes he’d dropped the Chenqing.
“Wei Ying!” he hears Jiang Cheng bark from somewhere behind him, but he ignores it and pulls the tricorder from Lan Zhan’s hands, fingers flying frantically over the knobs.
“What the hell was that?” Wei Ying demands. “How do you feel, Lan Zhan?”
Despite Wei Ying’s sleeve, there’s still a dusting of gold across the bridge of Lan Zhan’s nose. Later, when Wei Ying has time to think instead of just worry, he’ll think it’s oddly fetching, but right now he’s too focused on the tricorder. “I am suffering no ill effects,” Lan Zhan says.
“Yet,” Wei Ying says. “But it’s more likely to take a few minutes instead of being instantaneous anyway, just let me--”
“Wei Ying! You are unbelievable! Captain Nie is counting on this thing and you just go throwing it on the ground?”
“Oh, fuck off, Jiang Cheng.” Wei Ying doesn’t usually say that to his brother, but right now he can’t be bothered with anything else. “Lan Zhan just got ejaculated on by a psychedelic flower. We’ve got to make sure there wasn’t anything dangerous in it.”
He feels Jiang Cheng come to stand by his elbow, but he doesn’t look up from the tricorder.
“Is it toxic?” Jiang Cheng asks, the annoyance in his voice turned to concern. To anyone else he would still sound annoyed, actually, but Wei Ying can tell the difference. Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan don’t get along, but they don’t actually hate each other. (Much.)
“Obviously that’s what I’m trying to find out. Lan Zhan? Still okay?”
“No ill effects,” Lan Zhan says again, and just then the readings appear on the tricorder.
Wei Ying lets out a long, relieved breath. “No traces of any substance known to be detrimental to Vulcans. Or humans.”
“That doesn’t mean much; we stumble over new dangerous things all the time,” Jiang Cheng says. “It could be something that’s just not in our computer yet.”
Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “So reassuring, Jiang Cheng, thank you.”
“Well, it’s true! We’re forever running into some new phenomenon and Captain Nie asks Lan Zhan for analysis and Lan Zhan says, ‘This is quite unlike anything we have yet encountered, captain,’ and,‘This phenomenon is unknown to Starfleet, captain,’ and ‘The computer has insufficient data to analyze it, captain,’ and then we almost die.”
“Almost being the operative word,” Wei Ying mutters. He lets go of the tricorder--its strap is still around Lan Zhan’s neck--and uses his other sleeve to wipe away the last of the gold from Lan Zhan’s face. Lan Zhan tolerates this with no more than an arch of his brow.
Behind them, Jiang Cheng has scooped up the Chenqing and flipped open his comm. “Three to beam up.”
The gold is gone completely now, but Wei Ying slides his thumb across Lan Zhan’s cheekbone anyway. No doubt Wei Ying’s anxiety is coming across clearly through Lan Zhan’s touch telepathy, but he can’t stop himself.
“I am all right,” Lan Zhan says. His strange, light eyes hold Wei Ying’s just as steadily as they always have. “Wei Ying has no need to worry.”
“Yeah, well, I won’t stop worrying until we get you back aboard and Qing-jie gets you checked out.”
But even when Wen Qing has given Lan Zhan a full examination and pronounced him perfectly healthy, something about it still wriggles in the back of Wei Ying’s mind.
“He’s fine, Wei Ying,” Wen Qing says. “If it were dangerous, you’d already have keeled over yourself with how you’re biting your nails after touching that stuff.”
Wei Ying shoots her a dirty look; he’d sanitized his hands immediately upon returning to the ship of course--well before he started chewing on his nails. “Are you sure that--”
She doesn’t even bother to reassure him again, just rolls her eyes and goes back to her PADD.
But Wei Ying finds his sister in the lab and transfers all the readings from the tricorder. “Would you look into it in more detail, jiejie? Please?”
Jiang Yanli smiles at him in that understanding way only she can and pats his cheek. “Of course. Even if it isn’t dangerous, we still might find something interesting about the plant itself, mighten we?”
Wei Ying has the best sister in the galaxy. He also has the best captain. Captain Nie hadn’t even asked about the Chenqing until he got Wen Qing’s all-clear. But once he knows that his landing crew isn’t going to be adversely affected by the encounter with local flora, he requests a report from Wei Ying.
Being able to honestly say that the Chenqing performed exactly as hoped does buoy Wei Ying’s mood quite a bit, despite the annoyance of paperwork. By the time he finds Lan Zhan in the mess hall, his anxiety has faded.
“Well, Captain Nie was pleased,” he says, plopping down across from Lan Zhan and pouring chili sauce onto his bowl of replicated noodles. “He wants to get in a few test runs on a few different planets before I report back to Starfleet, but I really think this prototype is the winner!”
“Mn.” Lan Zhan has a bowl of that gross plomeek soup in front of him, but it doesn’t look like it’s been touched. He is sitting bolt-upright, just like he always does, but his hands are in fists on either side of his bowl and he’d been staring blankly across the room before Wei Ying joined him.
“It’s funny that this is the one that worked because I was so sure about 31, but obviously that was a bust--literally--and then when I started on 32, the only reason I switched to a simpler induction coil was because I was so frustrated with dealing with the other one, but now--” He chokes on his words as his chopsticks clatter to the table. “Lan Zhan! Are you okay?”
Wei Ying can’t keep the alarm out of his voice because one of Lan Zhan’s hands has unclenched and he’s tapping his fingers on the table. Wei Ying stares in horror at that hand, the long, familiar fingers that feature in so many of his dirtiest dreams, and tries to remember if he has ever, in their six years of friendship, seen Lan Zhan fidget in any way. He’s quite sure he hasn’t.
Lan Zhan notices the horror on Wei Ying’s face and looks down at his own hand. His fingers still. “I...am fine,” he says, but he sounds way less convinced than he usually does. A frown wrinkles his forehead for a moment, then he pulls his arms back and tucks his hands into his lap under the table.
“Lan Zhan…”
“I am fine.” This time he says it with his usual firmness.
“Maybe you should go see Qing-jie again, I--”
“Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying blinks, almost hurt at the sharpness of Lan Zhan’s voice. He forces himself to laugh, though, because he knows how much he hates it when people don’t believe his own protestations that he’s fine. “Okay, Lan Zhan, okay.” He’ll just have to watch him closely, that’s all. He takes another bite of his noodles, even though they are suddenly less appetizing than usual. “Anyway, we’ve got a couple more stops before we get to the next starbase--I think our next one is dropping off medical supplies on that colony in the Benecia system--and Captain Nie says I can run some more tests on those planets. I want to see how it works in a variety of environments because there’s still probably some tweaking I need to do…”
He carries on chattering even as he eats, but he barely tastes his noodles, barely knows what he’s saying. He’s watching Lan Zhan from under his eyelashes, even as he pretends not to be, and an unsettling feeling, halfway between an ache and an itch, is gathering between his shoulders. Lan Zhan still isn’t eating, is still just sitting there, and though his eyes are on Wei Ying, they look a little glazed. Lan Zhan’s gaze is usually so intense, so focused no matter what he’s looking at but especially when he’s looking at Wei Ying. It has been, right from the beginning, and it always sends a charge of electricity through Wei Ying’s body. Jiang Cheng has always been horrified at the way that Wei Ying acts around Lan Zhan--louder and brighter and more flirtatious, talking and moving even more than he already does--but Wei Ying has never been able to help it. When Lan Zhan is looking at him--when the full force of Lan Zhan’s attention is directed at him--he feels like he could explode from the intensity of his own feelings.
The way Lan Zhan is looking at him now wouldn’t be strange coming from anyone else. In fact, it’s the way many people look at him when he really gets going: like they’ve checked out completely but are too polite to say so. Wei Ying is used to it, used to his own feelings of irritation with himself because even when he knows people want him to shut up, he often can’t. It still stings, of course. But it’s a sting as familiar as the one he feels when Admiral Yu yells at him. A lot of people look at him like that.
Lan Zhan has never looked at him like that. Not even back at the Academy, before they were friends, when his eyes would flare with fury or go cold as ice at Wei Ying’s antics. Even when Wei Ying was certain that Lan Zhan hated him, he has never doubted that he had the entirety of Lan Zhan’s attention.
“At this point, I’m just so ready to be done with the whole thing.” Wei Ying is still talking, even though he doesn’t have much idea of what he’s actually saying, his whole being focused on the distant look in Lan Zhan’s eyes.
“So be done with it and shut up!”
Cold, deep as space, surges through Wei Ying’s body. The chopsticks have fallen from his hands again. Throat dry, he croaks, “What?”
But Lan Zhan doesn’t hear him. He stands upright in a sudden, violent motion, sending his chair flying back. It falls to the floor with a clatter, loud in the room that’s been silent since the second Lan Zhan raised his voice.
And then he’s gone, striding out of the room, leaving Wei Ying colder than he’s ever been.
“Wei Ying!” Qing-jie’s voice is usually sharp, but right now it’s knife-hard. Wei Ying doesn’t feel its bite at all, his nerves still frozen through. “I told you, I ran every diagnostic it’s possible to run, and there was nothing wrong with Lan Zhan.”
“There wasn’t then, maybe, but I’m telling you, there’s something wrong now!” He can hear the desperate edge to his own voice, but he doesn’t care.
Wen Qing crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “Because he got annoyed with you? Because he drummed his fingers on the table?”
“Yes!” He wants to scream in frustration; why can’t he make Wen Qing understand how worrisome that useless movement was? How terrifying hearing Lan Zhan yell was? Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong, and she’s not listening to him. “Qing-jie.” He grabs her hands and maybe it’s the panic in his voice or the way his own hands are trembling, but for once she doesn’t jerk them back. “There is something wrong. I know it.”
She holds his gaze for a moment, then sighs. “You’re ridiculous,” she says. “But I’ll run everything again. Send him back up here.”
The relief he feels isn’t total, but it’s giddy for all that. He tears out of med bay and down the corridors, dodging crewmembers and mostly not slamming into walls. No one yells at him to slow down; they’re all used to him. His fingers jitter as he waits for the turbolift, and when it arrives, he spends the whole ride bouncing and muttering, “Come on come on come on.” He runs full out once he reaches Lan Zhan’s floor, thankfully abandoned at this hour of alpha shift. When he slides to a stop in front of Lan Zhan’s quarters, he slams his hand over the buzzer, heart thrumming. There’s no answer from inside, so he pushes it again, then starts pounding on the door.
“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, open the door! Please!”
Silence answers, but Wei Ying knows he’s in there. After a display like that, Lan Zhan would go to the one place he knows he can be alone. Wei Ying rings the buzzer five more times, pounds some more, and then rips the front panel off the door controls. Getting the door to open is simple for an engineer, even with his fingers so unsteady, and it’s only seconds before it slides open.
“Lan Zhan!”
Lan Zhan is sitting in the middle of the floor in lotus position, clearly meditating. Without thought, Wei Ying falls to his knees beside him and grabs him by the shoulders.
The next second his back is slammed into the floor, all the air forced out of his lungs so abruptly he can’t breathe. “Get. Out,” Lan Zhan says, face millimeters from Wei Ying’s own. His eyes are glassy but furious, his voice taut. Even if Wei Ying had the breath to speak, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to point out that he can’t very well leave the room when Lan Zhan has him pinned like this. Or to say that it hurts, Lan Zhan’s arm pushing down on his solar plexus, his knee digging into Wei Ying’s thigh.
Lan Zhan is breathing hard, harder than he does after he and Wei Ying have sparred for hours. Even in the low light of the room, Wei Ying can see the green flush to his cheeks.
“Lan Zhan,” he croaks through the pain in his chest. “You’ve got to go see Qing-jie.”
Air surges back into Wei Ying’s lungs as Lan Zhan releases him, and coughs wrack his body. Lan Zhan throws himself across the room, and even as Wei Ying scrabbles to turn over, Lan Zhan’s fist slams down on the top of his computer monitor, crushing it in one blow.
The tears in Wei Ying’s eyes aren’t from the coughing or from the pain. He pushes himself to his knees, a sob hitching his chest. “Lan Zhan…”
There is no other word for it. Lan Zhan roars. “GET OUT!” And then he grabs the heavy monitor and hurls it across the room. It flies over Wei Ying’s head and slams into the wall with a horrible crunching, grinding sound. His heart throbbing in his throat, Wei Ying tries to push himself to his feet, one arm reaching out like his body needs to reach for Lan Zhan even if his mind knows it’s a stupid idea.
Lan Zhan takes one long stride back towards Wei Ying, leans down, and grabs him by the front of his uniform jacket. In a show of strength that would leave Wei Ying helpless with lust in any other situation, he picks Wei Ying up from the floor and hurls him through the open door.
By the time Wei Ying manages to fight through his sobs and pain enough to get to his feet, the door is shut, and Wei Ying doesn’t try to open it again. Pain zigzags through his body as he runs down the corridors now, and he’s gasping by the time he makes it to the turbolift.
Captain Nie jumps from his seat in alarm as Wei Ying stumbles onto the bridge.
“Lieutenant Commander Wei!”
“It’s Lan Zhan,” he gasps, clinging to the back of Jin Zixuan’s chair. “He’s got to go to med bay but--”
Commander Lan leaps to his feet and is to the lift doors faster than Wei Ying has ever seen a Vulcan move outside of combat.
“Lieutenant Jiang,” Captain Nie shouts into the intercom. “Get your three strongest officers to Lieutenant Commander Lan’s quarters now.”
Nie Huaisang has jumped up from his navigator’s chair and has his hand under Wei Ying’s elbow. “We need to get you to med bay, too,” and Wei Ying would protest that he doesn’t need any medical attention--he’s going to be bruised, sure, but what could that possibly matter right now--except that med bay is where Lan Zhan is going to be, and so he wants to be there.
He isn’t aware of the pain he knows his body is feeling as he lets Huaisang’s strong arms guide him to the turbolift. He raises a trembling hand and swipes at his tear-stained cheeks. “Something’s wrong,” he finds himself insisting. “I don’t know what but--something’s wrong with Lan Zhan.”
“Dr. Wen will take care of it, Wei-xiong, you know how good she is.” Huaisang is trying to be reassuring, but it doesn’t reach Wei Ying.
“No, you don’t understand! Something is wrong.”
Not for one second does Wei Ying consider that it might be pon farr.
“It’s pon farr,” Lan Huan says, voice flatter than Wei Ying has ever heard it. The two of them are in med bay, waiting. It seems like it’s been hours since Jiang Cheng’s men dragged a furiously fighting Lan Zhan through the door. Wen Qing had jabbed her hydro into his arm as soon as he was inside, and though it didn’t knock him out as it should have--another worrying sign--Lan Zhan had slumped in the security officers’ arms, eyes bleary. Wen Qing had them maneuver Lan Zhan into the examination room, but she had stopped Wei Ying and Lan Huan from entering.
“No.” Her voice had been sharp. “Nurse Wen, look after Lieutenant Commander Wei,” she said, and then she disappeared into the examination room with Lan Zhan. Wen Ning had been endlessly patient as he checked over Wei Ying, ignoring Wei Ying’s attempts to get away from his competent hands. Wei Ying’s entire focus had been on the closed door, and it still is now that Wen Ning has finished tending to him. He and Lan Huan are alone now, and it’s probably only been a quarter of an hour since the door closed, but for Wei Ying it’s been an eternity.
At first Lan Huan’s words don’t connect. Then Wei Ying’s head whips around so fast his neck twinges in protest. “What?”
“I got to his room first,” Lan Huan says, and though his face is as tranquil as it always is, his eyes are more anxious than Wei Ying has ever seen them. “I touched him. It’s pon farr.”
That doesn’t make any sense. “But that’s not for two more years!”
Lan Huan shakes his head, but it’s not in disagreement. “Nevertheless, that is what it is.”
Wei Ying’s head feels like it does that split-second after he’s been beamed somewhere, only it doesn’t dissipate when he shakes his head to clear it. “That’s why you told Captain Nie to set course for Vulcan?”
As soon as the door closed behind Wen Qing, Lan Huan had called up to the bridge and made a request that didn’t sound much like a request at all. Captain Nie had been silent for a moment, then said, “Very well, Commander,” and it was a sign of just how absolutely Captain Nie trusts Commander Lan that he had not asked for an explanation.
“Yes.”
Wei Ying is silent for a while, trying to wrap his mind around this new understanding. Once he gets a fair grip on it, he can’t stop himself from asking, “Does Lan Zhan have someone there to...help him with it?”
He would wince at the rawness of his own voice, the patheticness of the question, but he just feels sick. He’s tortured himself before, thinking of Lan Zhan having a betrothed back on Vulcan, someone just waiting to complete koon-ut-kal-if-fee with him and be his consort. But he’s gotten good at putting it from his mind--it was still years away, there was no point in burning with jealousy or heartache at the thought of that unknown Vulcan.
“No,” Lan Huan says. “Our parents did not arrange betrothals for either one of us, and Lan Zhan has been delaying making a choice himself.”
Those words shouldn’t make cool relief flow through Wei Ying’s veins. “Then what will he do? He has to have a partner!”
Lan Huan doesn’t seem surprised that Wei Ying knows this much about a phenomenon that is so taboo that even Vulcans rarely talk about it amongst themselves. “I will contact the elders as soon as we hear from Dr. Wen. They will make an appropriate selection.”
“He doesn’t even get to choose?”
Lan Huan finally turns to look at him, blinking at the fury in Wei Ying’s voice. “He can choose if he wishes, and of course he can refuse anyone the elders select. But the plak tow is nearing at an accelerated rate. I do not think he will be in much of a state to express a preference by the time we reach Vulcan.”
Wei Ying just barely keeps his lunch down at those words. He’d only eaten an hour or so ago, maybe less. How was it possible that that was such a short time ago? He feels as though his planet has slipped off its axis since then.
“But--”
That’s the moment that the door slides open. At once he and Lan Zhan’s brother take a step closer, but it’s Wen Qing who steps out and closes the door behind her. Her face is unreadable, but then it usually is when she’s doing her job. Wei Ying’s stomach is still churning.
Wen Qing nods to both of them. “Commander Lan, let’s go into my office.”
“It’s all right, Dr. Wen,” Lan Huan says. “You can speak in front of Lieutenant Commander Wei. He already knows it is pon farr.” Wei Ying is so grateful he could cry.
Lan Huan hadn’t asked a question, but Wen Qing answers him like one. “Yes, it’s pon farr. It makes no sense given what I know of Lan Zhan’s cycle, but it’s undeniable. I have Commander Jiang analyzing the pollen from that flower. It’s the only thing I can imagine causing this, though I don’t understand how. I’m no expert on Vulcan physiology, but there’s no known substance that can induce pon farr in our databank.”
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter,” Lan Huan says. His eyes are closed and he sounds weary. “He’s almost to plak tow already, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Wen Qing confirms. “My estimation is that he’ll reach that state in less than a day. Everything is moving at an accelerated rate. Under normal circumstances, he would have eight or nine days from the onset of pon farr before his body gives out. But in this situation, I think we’re looking at three or four.”
Something Wei Ying doesn’t understand flickers in Lan Huan’s eyes as he looks over at Wei Ying before he turns back to Wen Qing. “And until then?”
“Until then he’s going to try to keep it under control through meditation. He’s agreed to have himself restricted to med bay and I’ll of course keep close watch. He--”
She cuts off as the door slides open and Captain Nie strides into the room. Lan Huan gives the impression of straightening even though his posture had been perfect before. “How long till we reach Vulcan?” Lan Huan asks.
The creases of Commander Nie’s sagittal crest deepen. “We aren’t going to Vulcan.”
The fear that flares in Wei Ying’s gut is more muted in Lan Huan’s eyes, but still discernible. “But Captain--”
“I’m sorry, A-Huan,” Commander Nie says, like that’s an appropriate way to talk to his first officer, like Wei Ying and Wen Qing aren’t even there. “There were orders. The medical supplies we have for the colony are time-sensitive. Starfleet hadn’t told me before, but there’s an outbreak of Zavarian fever. People are dying. I trust that you have excellent reason to want to go to Vulcan, but it isn’t possible, not until after we unload at Benecia.”
A green flush is rising high on Lan Huan’s cheeks. “Da-ge, if we don’t get my brother to Vulcan in the next few days, his cortical levels will continue to fluctuate as his serotonin levels become unbalanced.”
“And if that happens?” Captain Nie asks Wen Qing.
“If that continues for too long, he will die,” she says in her straightforward way.
Captain Nie looks very grave. “Dr. Wen, will you join us in my office? We need to discuss our options.”
“Can I come, Captain?” Wei Ying knows he sounds like a child, but he can’t stop himself from asking. It’s Lan Zhan.
Captain Nie looks at him for a long moment and then reaches out to rest his hands on Wei Ying’s shoulders. It makes Wei Ying’s chin wobble; Captain Nie has never done anything remotely like that before. “Wei Ying,” he says, and he’s never called Wei Ying that before either. “Go check on Commander Jiang’s progress in the lab. We will call on you if we need your expertise in any way.”
He’d known that would be the answer, but it doesn’t make him feel any less panicked to hear it. The thought of them upstairs, making decisions that affect Lan Zhan’s life....
He knows that Lan Huan will be the best advocate for Lan Zhan. He cares about his brother as much as Wei Ying does, and he knows more about pon farr than anyone else aboard. Wei Ying and Lan Huan aren’t close, but he is the only person Wei Ying would ever trust to fight for Lan Zhan as hard as he deserves to be fought for. And Lan Huan will do it in a measured, logical way; he will see clearly where Wei Ying is buffeted by emotion. It wouldn’t do any good for Wei Ying to be there. He’d just yell and plead and Captain Nie would dismiss anything he has to say. He knows that. But it’s hard to hear it.
“Fine,” he says tersely instead of ‘yes sir,’ but the Captain doesn’t chastise him for it. Wei Ying turns towards the examination room door. If he can’t be up there in that office fighting for Lan Zhan, he’ll just have to be beside Lan Zhan.
But Wen Qing catches his arm immediately. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Lan Zhan--”
“--needs to be alone right now,” she interrupts. “Under no circumstances are you to go into that room. Do you understand me?”
“Consider that a direct order from your captain,” Captain Nie adds, but his voice isn’t harsh.
There are three pairs of eyes staring him down, so Wei Ying clenches his fists, swallows down everything he’s feeling and chokes out, “Yes, sir.” And then he runs to Jiejie.
Jiejie is the only person in his life who’s ever held him as he cried. Before her, he’d had nobody, and even now he doesn’t have anyone else, not for that. A couple of times when he’s cried about something real and serious when Jiejie wasn’t around, Jiang Cheng has awkwardly patted his shoulder and gruffly tried to comfort him instead of just yelling at him. But Jiang Cheng is a sympathy crier and very bad at comforting, so it’s just not the same.
So Wei Ying hates crying in front of people who aren’t Jiejie; they just look uncomfortable and make him feel even worse. In their final year at the Academy, when Wei Ying had gotten into so much trouble and was sure he was going to be kicked out, Jiejie was already serving on the Cultivator and was too far away to comfort him. Wei Ying had run to the storage closet in the back of his favorite lab, certain that if he couldn’t have Jiejie, he didn’t want anyone.
When the door opened and Wei Ying looked up to find Lan Zhan looking down at him, he’d swiped frantically at his face, hiccuping as he tried to gulp down his sobs. But Lan Zhan just closed the door, shutting them in merciful darkness, and sat down beside him on the floor. He didn’t say anything, but Wei Ying was just so glad that he was there that he was too weak to hold the tears back. He’d been sure that righteous Lan Zhan would be horrified by his decision to speak out against Admiral Jin and that their friendship would shatter. That friendship was still so new then, but more precious than anything in Wei Ying’s life other than his siblings, the thrum of an engine, and his dream of Starfleet.
He’d been certain he was going to lose two of those things. Half of the things he cared about, the only things he’d ever had in his life, swept away because of one decision. But they weren’t. Lan Zhan had stayed there with him for three hours till Wei Ying had cried himself into exhaustion, then led him back to his own room and tucked Wei Ying into his own bed. Wei Ying slept for thirteen hours, and when he woke up, the insubordination charges had been dropped.
Wei Ying still doesn’t know what happened. The brass hadn’t accepted his explanation before, had refused to view him as a whistleblower. Even with Huaisang’s help, he hasn’t been able to figure out what exactly made them change their minds. But when he woke and found Lan Zhan in the chair beside his bed, ready to explain that he wasn’t going to be punished and he definitely wasn’t being expelled from the Academy, Wei Ying had realized that he got to keep all of it. His siblings, and engineering, and Starfleet, and Lan Zhan.
So what if he didn’t get to have Lan Zhan in quite the way he wanted him? He still had him. He’d thought, at that moment, that he would always have Lan Zhan.
Which is why he’s crying in Jiejie’s arms now. She’s whispering things into his hair, comforting things about how Commander Lan and the Captain and Wen Qing definitely won’t let Lan Zhan die, no matter what, but it’s the warmth of her arms around him, the familiar scent of her, the awareness that she’s here that are keeping him from losing himself entirely.
When he finally stops crying, throat raw and eyes gritty, Jiejie tenderly wipes his face with her jacket sleeve and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I know you’re scared,” she says, cradling his face in her hands.
“I’m so scared.” He never admits that, even when he is, but right now there’s no point in lying, no point in pride. It’s Lan Zhan. “I...Jiejie...he told me to shut up.”
To her great credit, Jiejie doesn’t laugh at him. But Jiang Cheng does, stomping into the room. It’s a bitter, incredulous laugh.
“He smashed his monitor to smithereens and threw you like a springball, but you’re scared because he told you to shut up?” He throws himself down into a chair, arms crossed.
There is absolutely no point in trying to explain this to Jiang Cheng, of all people. He would never understand that while all of it scared him, it was the way that Lan Zhan had spoken to him that had scared him the most. Even before they were friends, when Lan Zhan had told him often to be quiet, he had never sounded like that. A Lan Zhan who throws people and things around is disturbing, but a Lan Zhan who talks to him like that is unrecognizable.
“A-Cheng.” There’s a warning in Jiejie’s voice and Jiang Cheng scowls but lapses into silence. “We are all very worried about Lan Zhan, A-Ying,” she says to Wei Ying. “But we can trust Captain Nie and Commander Lan to do the right thing.”
“But what if they decide the right thing is to go to the Benecia colony? Those are the orders. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” How often has Lan Zhan told him that? Though it’s the needs of the many versus the needs of the one in this case. Wei Ying is suddenly, fiercely glad that Lan Zhan is out of it enough that he won’t be involved in the decision-making process; there’s no doubt in his mind that Lan Zhan would say that his own life is nothing in comparison to the hundreds on the colony who might die if they don’t get their medicine. He’d insist on going to Benecia.
“Wen Qing will figure out a way to keep him alive. I isolated the microbe that triggered this reaction,” Jiejie says, gesturing towards her PADD. “We know for certain what it is, and Wen Qing has already started work on figuring out a way to reverse its effects or at least slow them down. You know how brilliant she is. I’m certain she’ll figure out some way to...delay things until we can get to Vulcan. You won’t lose your Lan Zhan.”
He lets her fuss over him some more, then tells his siblings that he’s going back to his quarters. Jiejie gives him a compassionate look as he leaves, but even though he’s sore in body and heart, scared and wrung-out, he knows she’s right.
Because he knows what he’s going to do. He’s known it since he heard Captain Nie say that they couldn’t go to Vulcan right away. Maybe since Lan Huan told him that Lan Zhan doesn’t have a betrothed back home. It’s not a choice, really, just something that Wei Ying had known he would do the way he knows his heart will keep beating.
It really will be insubordination this time. He’ll be violating a direct order from his captain, and there’s no way he’ll escape court martial. But Lan Zhan will be alive, and what in the entire universe can matter in light of that?
He does head to his room, actually, because he needs time to think. He’s got to figure out a way to get to Lan Zhan and get him out of med bay without anyone seeing them. That would take some doing under normal circumstances because Wen Qing watches her unit with a sharp eye and there are always people passing in the busy corridor outside. But it’ll be especially difficult now, when Lan Zhan is out of control and lost to his beloved logic. It might take a few hours to come up with a workable plan, and by that time Lan Zhan might be into plak tow, the blood fever. Wei Ying scrubs his hands over his face, brain thrumming furiously as he tries to concoct a plan.
When he opens the door to his quarters, Lan Zhan is there.
Wei Ying can’t stop his incredulous laugh. Lan Zhan is here.
Lan Zhan’s head snaps up at the sound and his eyes go wide as he stares. “Wei Ying,” he breathes, and it feels so good to hear him saying his name that Wei Ying could start crying again. But then Lan Zhan looks around, like he’s never seen this room before, like he has no idea how he ended up here, and something frantic--scared?--flares in his eyes. “No! No no no!”
The words make no sense to Wei Ying and he’s so confused that Lan Zhan almost makes it past him before Wei Ying realizes he’s about to leave. Wei Ying darts back, manages to slap his fingers against the biometric lock, and the door slides shut right before Lan Zhan reaches it. Lan Zhan jerks to a halt a meter away from Wei Ying, shoulders heaving.
“Wei Ying. Let me out.”
“No,” Wei Ying says. “No, I was just coming to get you.”
“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan’s skin is the greenest he’s ever seen it, and is that actual sweat slicking his forehead? “Let me out!”
“No!” Wei Ying shouts back, then gentles his voice immediately. “No. Lan Zhan, I’m going to help you.”
Lan Zhan’s stare is uncomprehending. “You cannot help me.”
“Of course I can.” It takes more courage than just about anything Wei Ying has ever done, but he has to step forward, has to lay his hand against Lan Zhan’s cheek. “Lan Zhan, let me help you.”
Those beloved light eyes, pupils dilated, stare and stare at him, and Wei Ying can see the moment that what he’s implying penetrates the hurricane inside Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan flinches back from Wei Ying’s hand so fast that he almost trips, panic all over his face. “No!”
Wei Ying ignores the hurt. There will be time to feel it later, once Lan Zhan is safe. There’ll be a whole galaxy of pain to swim in then, but Lan Zhan will be alive and not anyone else’s, and Wei Ying has always been a good swimmer. He’ll live with it.
“Lan Zhan, we can’t go to Vulcan,” Wei Ying tries to explain, hoping that Lan Zhan isn’t so far gone that he won’t understand. “If we do people will die. But if we don’t, you’re going to die,” he says and doesn’t even choke over that word for all this throat is so tight he doesn’t know how he’s able to speak. “I know you don’t want me like that, but let me do this for you.”
Lan Zhan is shaking his head like he doesn’t know how to stop, sweat dripping from his temples. He looks terrified and furious and he is so, so beautiful. Just as beautiful like this, desperate and fraying, as he usually is when he’s serene. “No! No! Vulcan--I will hold on till Vulcan, I will--”
Wei Ying’s heart is dying in his chest like a supernova, but he keeps his voice steady, even if he can’t do the same thing with his hands. He reaches out for Lan Zhan again. “Please.”
The next moment, Lan Zhan’s hands are fisted in Wei Ying’s uniform, and he shoves Wei Ying back into the door. There are tears in his eyes as he begs, “Not as a favor no no no no let me out don’t make me do it to you not to you not to you not to you Wei Ying not like this--”
Wei Ying closes his own hands around Lan Zhan’s, holding them as tight as he can. They’re both shaking. “I want you to, Lan Zhan. I don’t want it to be anybody else but me.” He realizes tears are sliding down his own cheeks as he looks up into that beloved face, transformed by a desperation that is shaking Lan Zhan apart. “Please don’t let it be anyone but me. It should be someone who loves you, Lan Zhan, and nobody could ever, ever love you like I do.”
Lan Zhan’s mouth falls open a bit, incomprehension all over his face as Wei Ying gently pries Lan Zhan’s fingers away from the fabric of his uniform. Lan Zhan lets out a gasp and his eyes fall shut as Wei Ying guides Lan Zhan’s hands up to his face. Lan Zhan’s fingers fall into place at Wei Ying’s qui’lari, and it feels better than it did in Wei Ying’s fantasies. “My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts,” Wei Ying murmurs, the words an invitation, stroking Lan Zhan’s fingers where they cradle him, and then Lan Zhan lets out a sob and sags against him and their minds are melding.
For a moment, Wei Ying loses himself in the ferocity of what Lan Zhan is feeling, helpless as the fire engulfs him. Eventually, he gets a handle on himself again and focuses on his own feelings, determined to prove to Lan Zhan that he wants this. He pours his love over Lan Zhan, wanting to make it undeniable. It’s almost too much, letting loose years and years of repressed longing, a dam-burst of desire.
And yes--yes he can feel it, coming from Lan Zhan: just as much as he himself has felt, Lan Zhan has felt too. Every moment of yearning, every flicker of lust, every heart-stopping pulse of affection: Lan Zhan has his own to match.
It’s ridiculous and infuriating and beautiful: they were feeling the very same things all along and never knew it. Wei Ying feels a hysterical surge of fondness for the naive, ignorant Wei Ying of a few moments before, the Wei Ying who thought Lan Zhan didn’t love him as Wei Ying loves him. Of course he did. Of course he does. Of course he has all along.
When Wei Ying remembers that he has a physical body--that such things as physical bodies exist in the universe--he finds that he’s sobbing and Lan Zhan is too. Wei Ying’s sobs transform into laughter as soon as he becomes aware of them, and he strokes his fingers across Lan Zhan’s again, making Lan Zhan shiver. Wei Ying lets out another helpless shout of laughter, choked with joy, and then he kisses his love.
There isn’t any space for sweetness or gentleness; right now, Lan Zhan isn’t capable of that, even though in the middle of the cyclone of approaching plak tow, Wei Ying can feel the embers of Lan Zhan’s yearning for sweetness. Lan Zhan’s lust is a gale-force wind, and Wei Ying hurls himself into it, doing his best to keep up.
The kissing is better than any kissing anyone else has ever done, Wei Ying is sure. He knows part of that is the telepathy, the mirroring of their feelings, the way they’re feeding the desire back and forth to each other, but part of it is just the fact that this is Lan Zhan and not any other one of the other trillions of beings in the galaxy. It’s Lan Zhan.
“Wei Ying, I did not want it like this,” Lan Zhan gasps when they pull back to breathe. “This is not how I wanted it.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Wei Ying says. “But it’s okay.”
And then the plak tow crashes over Lan Zhan like a wave.
Later, Wei Ying will discover that Lan Zhan actually ripped both of their clothes off before throwing Wei Ying down on the bed. But in this moment all he knows is that they’re on the bed and they’re together and this is happening. His dreams for years and years: they’re real.
Lan Zhan’s hands are all over him, his mouth is always touching Wei Ying, sliding everywhere. When Wei Ying finally manages to get his hand down between them, Lan Zhan is slick in a way that wouldn’t be possible for a human. He wants to look down, to see Lan Zhan, but Lan Zhan won’t stop kissing him long enough to let him. Lan Zhan’s strong hand pushes Wei Ying’s away, and it takes Wei Ying a moment to understand why, till Lan Zhan’s slickened fingers--the fingers that had scared him so much, drumming on the mess hall table a few hours ago--prod at him.
The joining of their bodies is every bit as intense as the joining of their minds had been. It seems to last just as eternally, and Lan Zhan is a tsunami sweeping Wei Ying away and away and away.
It must be something about the mind meld, the way their orgasms crash into them at the same time. Must be the mind meld too, or something in Lan Zhan’s pheromones, that after coming so hard, so long, Wei Ying is still hard.
“Now me,” Lan Zhan gasps into his ear--or maybe everything they’re saying is happening in their minds. Wei Ying will never really be sure. “Now me now me now me please, Wei Ying.”
It takes Wei Ying’s brain an inordinately long time to figure out what Lan Zhan is asking for. “Oh! Lan Zhan? Really?”
“Yes, yes, I’m ready, please.”
He is ready, Wei Ying finds, when he reaches down. Another way he isn’t like a human: Lan Zhan is slick there, too, so ready for him. Wei Ying hasn’t done this before, but it isn’t difficult; Lan Zhan’s body knows what to do and invites Wei Ying in like a homecoming.
Lan Zhan pushes them over, and then he’s riding Wei Ying with a rhythm and strength no human could match. Wei Ying has gone to some place far beyond pleasure, dragged there by Lan Zhan, and he doesn’t fight it. He has always been willing to go anywhere Lan Zhan goes. Anywhere in the universe.
When Wei Ying wakes, Lan Zhan isn’t touching him. His bleary mind registers that first, long before he musters up the energy to open his eyes. He stares at the ceiling, trying to find the strength to turn his head or call Lan Zhan’s name, before he remembers that he doesn’t need to speak out loud.
Lan Zhan?
He’s right there; Wei Ying can feel him. Curled into a knot in the armchair on the other side of the room, his misery a steady throb through the link between their minds.
I’m sorry, Wei Ying.
Wei Ying’s internal laugh is smothered by Lan Zhan’s guilt. What could you possibly have to be sorry about?
Lan Zhan doesn’t exactly share what he sees, but somehow Wei Ying gets the impression of it: himself, sprawled out on the bed, body littered with bruises and marks, and then he understands.
Oh, Lan Zhan. I am not having this conversation with you if you’re not touching me, and I can’t even think about moving without wanting to fall over even though I’m already laying down, so you have to come to me.
Wei Ying--
Come here.
Lan Zhan comes. He’s still naked, and the low lights are on, so when Wei Ying turns his head just a bit, he can see him now, see all the ways that Lan Zhan is different than he is and all the ways he’s the same. Later, when he has a little bit of energy again, he wants to get acquainted with everything in detail, but right now he just appreciates the view. The green is different, but it’s beautiful, just like every bit of Lan Zhan has always been.
“Hold me,” Wei Ying commands, his voice a croak, when Lan Zhan lays down beside him. Normally he would just crawl on top of Lan Zhan and make Lan Zhan hold him, but he can’t even lift his head right now. Thankfully, Lan Zhan pulls him to him, wraps himself around him in just the way Wei Ying had wanted him to. Wei Ying lets out a long, happy sigh at the feeling of Lan Zhan’s hot skin against his, the smell of him enfolding him.
All right, sweetheart, tell me, Wei Ying thinks.
I could have killed you.
Okay, that’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?
Tucked up under Lan Zhan’s chin, Wei Ying can’t see his face, but somehow he knows Lan Zhan is pouting. No.
Wei Ying supposes it’s technically true--Vulcans are much stronger than humans. But though he’s aching all over, and he knows it’s going to take him a while before he’ll be able to get out of bed even to shower, Wei Ying doesn’t care. Well, even if you could have, you didn’t.
I hurt you, Lan Zhan insists, and there’s that image again, the marks all over Wei Ying’s body.
Only in good ways.
Wei Ying--
You did not hurt me, Lan Zhan. Not like that. I liked it. There aren’t words in any language for how much Wei Ying liked it.
I hate it. Pon farr. I hate it.
Of course he does, not being in control. Of course he hates it. He’s Vulcan, and he’s Lan Zhan. I know. But it’s only once every seven years.
I did not want it to--when we finally--if you ever--I did not want it to be like this. Because of this.
The surge of love he feels for Lan Zhan is so intense that it gives him enough strength to tighten his arms around Lan Zhan. I know that. He does know it, too: knows that Lan Zhan had fantasized about their first time every bit as often as Wei Ying had. Maybe even more. You wanted it to be because of love, not because of biology.
Lan Zhan’s relief at his understanding is like a spring breeze. Yes.
But it was because of love. It was, Lan Zhan. I wanted it to be me because I love you.
Lan Zhan’s feelings are so fierce as they surge into Wei Ying. I wanted to show you how much I love you, and all his fantasies are there in Wei Ying’s mind. Lan Zhan had wanted it to burn so hot and so long, so sweet and so slow. Not frantic and clawing, like it had been, but deliberate, so that Wei Ying would know with every single kiss, every single touch, that he was loved and chosen.
Tears well up in Wei Ying’s eyes, but he is not going to cry again, not after all the tears he shed yesterday.
Oh, sweetheart, we have so much time now. Let me sleep a little more, drink some water, eat something. Then we’ll do it like that. Okay?
They do. Lan Zhan brings Wei Ying some water, then they sleep again, then Lan Zhan carries Wei Ying to the bathroom, and when Wei Ying wobbles his way out, Lan Zhan is at the replicator, punching in their food orders. They eat on the mess of the bed, and Lan Zhan has to keep getting up to fill their water glasses, and they feed each other and kiss in between bites and then, stomach deliciously full, Wei Ying falls sleep again in Lan Zhan’s arms.
But after that, when he wakes up for good, they do it just like Lan Zhan had always wanted: so slow and so sweet, and it’s just them, just Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, no hormones holding them at phaserpoint. They don’t even need the mind meld this time, which has faded away until it’s just them. Just the two of them and the choices they make. Deliberate. (Perfect.)
“Everyone must have been so freaked out when they found out you had slipped out of med bay.”
Wei Ying has no idea what time it is, how many hours or days have passed since he stepped into this room and found Lan Zhan waiting for him. He doesn’t really care. Maybe there is a court martial waiting for him, but he’s pretty sure Captain Nie will find some way around it. Wei Ying did save Lan Zhan’s life, after all. Surely that is worth some light insubordination and a few shifts missed.
“They were,” Lan Zhan says, sliding his fingers through Wei Ying’s wet hair and up to scratch his scalp. They’re in the tiny tub, which is barely a tub at all, so it’s not nearly big enough for both of them. Lan Zhan’s legs are sticking over the ledge and Wei Ying’s knees are up under his chin and their elbows keep digging into each other, but the water feels so good on Wei Ying’s aching body. (It’s good aching, though.) “After--after you fell asleep, I commed Xiongzhang. He had...deduced where I was, and told Dr. Wen and the Captain not to panic, but he was still concerned when he could not find me.”
Wei Ying tilts his head back and despite the awkwardness of the position, he can just see Lan Zhan’s left ear. The tip is green. Wei Ying loves him so much. “Awkward conversation.”
“Mn. But I did not have to tell him much.”
“No. And hey--he had to be the one to have the awkward conversation with Qing-jie and the Captain, not you!”
“I am thankful.”
Wei Ying laughs. “Me too! I bet Captain Nie won’t even be able to look at me for the next week! And Qing-jie will just glare at me.”
“My brother won’t say anything.”
“No, he’s good that way. So is Jiejie. She’ll just give me a knowing look and then smile and tell me she’s glad you’re all right.”
“Yes. Just like xiongzhang.”
“I’m totally going to rub it in Jiang Cheng’s face, though.” He hurriedly adds, “Not what we did,” because he doesn’t want Lan Zhan to think that he takes any of this lightly. It’s private, so private, and Wei Ying would never betray that privacy. “Just that I’m your consort now.”
Lan Zhan’s arms tighten around him and water sloshes over the side of the tub as he maneuvers Wei Ying around so that he can kiss him.
Later, Wei Ying tucks the wet hair behind Lan Zhan’s pretty pointed ears and runs his fingertips over them, making Lan Zhan shiver. “You know, on nights when I couldn’t sleep, I would torture myself thinking about whether you had somebody back on Vulcan. On what was going to happen when it was your time and you went back. I thought about pon farr more than any non-Vulcan has ever thought about it. And then it happened, and I was so selfish.” He laughs. “I knew I couldn’t let you go back to Vulcan. Just the thought of you with anybody else--I thought you didn’t love me, but I still couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else sharing this with you. I’m a terrible person.”
Lan Zhan snorts. And Wei Ying dissolves into giggles, overwhelmed: Lan Zhan snorted.
“Incorrect,” Lan Zhan says, ignoring the giggles. “Wei Ying is good.”
Wei Ying isn’t so sure about that, but he isn’t going to argue about it now. “Well anyway, it doesn’t matter because you came to me. You didn’t mean to, though, did you? Not with your conscious mind?”
“No. I made no such decision to come. When I saw you, I had no memory of leaving med bay.”
“But you still came to me.” Wei Ying can’t keep the smugness out of his voice.
“Of course I came to Wei Ying. Even if I had been on the other side of the galaxy, I would have come to Wei Ying.”
“Lan Zhan!” And more water is sacrificed as Wei Ying wails and burrows his face into Lan Zhan’s shoulder.
It’s a very uncomfortable position, so Wei Ying has to rearrange himself before he speaks again. “What would you have done?” he asks, hating himself for asking but unable to stop himself. “If I had let you go. If I hadn’t…”
Lan Zhan is quiet for some time, fingers combing through Wei Ying’s hair. “There is a kind of intense meditation. It does not work well off of Vulcan, but I might have been able to hold on until we reached home. And it would be easier once I got there. The elders would have helped me through it.”
Wei Ying jerks upright and now there’s barely any water left in the tub. “Wait, you mean there’s a way around it? Besides having sex or killing someone?”
Lan Zhan’s brow furrows slightly. “Yes. As I said, it is difficult away from Vulcan, but generally survivable for one whose mind is disciplined.”
“But the articles don’t say anything about that! And your brother said--” It takes a lot of effort and flexibility to get into a position where Wei Ying can see Lan Zhan’s face, but when he does, it’s tinged with a green flush. “Lan Zhan! Did your brother manipulate me into mating with you?”
Lan Zhan isn’t meeting his eyes. “Xiongzhang has long known of the regard in which I hold you…. I am certain he was genuinely concerned for me, but he may have considered this a reasonable opportunity to...that is, he may have concluded it would be logical to...lead you to believe…”
Wei Ying is still laughing ten minutes later when they finally manage to sort out all their limbs and extricate themselves from the tub. “Oh, Lan Zhan,” he says, leaning into Lan Zhan, grinning up into those adoring eyes. “I love Vulcans.”