#also other twoset watchers: if you can play it slowly you can play it quickly

[vermillioncrown]

look verm… all i wanna know is exactly how does lxc know univers-ity!zyx is a dancer and what kind of chaos he wakes into bc from what we know, she goes full thot while dancing… and if lxc spontaneously combusted when witnessing it

it's a long story, and you've uncovered a snippet! x10!

=

from the early, early stuff on oblivious university, it's noted that a source of conflict between lwj and zyx involves her dance group

the dance group isn't an official school dance team, so they don't have official practice space or schedules. the group was formed in this 'renegade' manner to specifically counter the competitive nature of university-level dance teams, or just dance teams following the popularization of competitive streetdance.

(while zyx loves doing it, the fact that the group isn't competitive puts a chip on her shoulder in that everything she does isn't 'good enough')

but back to the topic, the fact that the dance group (let's just name them 'the renegades') don't have a practice location means that they scout around campus or other places nearby that can: 1) hold a bunch of young people, 2) tolerate loud noises, 3) has smooth flooring, 4) has something reflective and large (mirror, windows, etc) nearby, 5) gives a modicum of privacy, be it due to the hours of practice (sometimes at 3am) or being out of the way

unfortunately, there was one month where the renegades picked a practice spot near the old music rooms. lwj enjoys the acoustics of the old music rooms compared to the uni's newer facilities. the renegades interrupted lwj's music practice (his 'late night' practice at 8pm to make his 10:30pm bedtime) (what fucking modern student sleeps at 9pm unless they don't have friends???) (oh no lwj :( ) so lwj was extra grumpy, came out to get rid of the noisemakers, realized too late he knew one of the people and could have talked it out more diplomatically

so on lwj's side he's also a bit embarrassed about his second impression on zyx as she is with him.

=

the whole time lwj is laying siege to zyx in the practice rooms, he thinks he's getting through to his (possible?) friend and has a chance to work things through

so he talks to lxc about her.

that's how lxc knows about her dancing.

=

to know is one thing, to witness is another.

=

this coincides with the first time lxc gives zyx a ride home. she's staying late on campus, crawling out from the crevices between the social sciences buildings that the renegades used for practice that night

lxc just finished up a late-night faculty meeting (he's a golden boy of his dept, so even as a younger grad student he gets to sit in on stuff)

sees her dragging her feet to take the bus home, no one's around, she looks exhausted and unalert

'i can't let my brother's friend find her own way like this'

(for as 'normal' as lxc seems compared to lwj, you bet your ass there's some weird standards of behavior for both brothers; being genuinely and overly concerned for your brother's friends is one)

lxc outmaneuvers her that night, and drives her home. bc zyx is tired, she ends up answering his questions with actual detail despite her vow to never let him learn anything about her

(set in-between these two blurbs)

=

once she finishes the current semester, lxc has offered to drive her home enough times that it's not too weird. (it's fucking weird but none of them are aware enough to notice)

he notices that she spends a lot more time on campus, and later at night. he catches her out at the drugstore near his apartment past midnight, and after his gentle but insistent pressing she admits that she was overdoing things a bit with practice ("it's not even a sprain, I was just looking for tape!") because the renegades expected her to choreograph something for them.

lxc is confused. "is no one helping you? why are you doing this after hours? how much are you expected to do?"

it's their first heart-to-heart on the curbside of the 24 hr coffeeshop.

zyx, for once, is honest and vulnerable. she owes lxc that much. and it's not like they haven't had conversations of substance before. and it has nothing to do with lxc, which in a way, is freeing.

"do you ever feel like a fraud?"

those words sucker-punched lxc.

"people think you're one thing, but you're not really that. you wish you were, though." zyx doesn't touch her drink at all, which is a first. "i like dancing, i really do. but i don't feel like a dancer like the rest of the renegades. a lot of them will probably join the uni team when they outgrow us. they actually watch dance videos, learn guest choreo, it's a thing. i don't do any of that."

"you feel like you're not a real dancer, because you're not doing things like them." lxc puts his drink down, and looks away. "i get it. and you feel pressure to at least pretend to be like them, that they can discover your... 'duplicitousness' at any time."

she gives a short laugh that's more like a scoff. "senior, how can someone like you know that feeling?"

he doesn't answer.

zyx sighs. she stirs the straw around, takes a sip, and mulls over his words. "well. yeah. so... it's not like i know how to come up with choreography. i also don't feel - i feel nervous if i have to come up with shit in front of other people. like, once i have something i'm fine with showing it, but i have to have something first. it needs to be worth looking at, first."

lxc knows. the perfect eldest son of the main lan family, there to right the wrongs of his wayward father. their family would have hidden away in shame for the rest of their lives if either him or wangji weren't worth watching.

"so... you need somewhere private to practice. easy to access, better hours."

"that's the dream, i guess."

here, at least he can do more to help. "my apartment complex - it has nice gym facilities, but no one uses it because they either go onto campus or go to private classes."

"not broke-ass undergrads, got it," zyx nods seriously.

lxc laughs. "well. yes, putting it unkindly, i suppose. but that means it has the space and privacy you need to... work things out." he thinks it's a great idea. they already carpool every week. eat lunch together. have overlapping gaps of free time. work adjacent to one another, even if they aren't studying at the same level or the same subject at all.

(lxc will pay her to come to tutoring if she takes art history again. never will he ever let her study like... that.)

zyx jumps up. paces around. looks at the storefront, does a weird... measurement of space with steady footsteps and arm span.

"... how big? does it have mirrors?"

=

eventually it becomes a regular enough thing. whenever zyx needs private time to dance, either to choreograph something new or practice something privately, she'll ask to come to lxc's apartment. he doesn't ask more than she offers to tell. he doesn't ask to watch.

the complex has a moderately sized yoga studio, as pristine as the day it was built because anyone into yoga that lives in the complex is rich enough to attend classes at the upscale boutique downtown.

and the borrowing of gym access turns into

"hey, you look tired; i have some tea brewing if you want to catch your breath before biking home"

to

"if you don't mind staying a bit longer, i can drive you back to campus" "... i can do some homework and wait. oh, let me tell you about that show you should watch -"

to

"hey, mind if i use your shower? i need to change into something for shop class that's not short-shorts" "sure, i have extra towels in the closet - yeah, that one -"

(there's even a day that she spends the night. not on purpose. but after a particularly grueling week, running back to back with things, dealing with both a lwj and wwx interaction, separately, that left her with hives but no one injured nor dead - it's no wonder she falls asleep at the couch in the minute it takes lxc to pack his oboe for orchestra.

from what zyx said about her midterms, she should have a break this weekend. so he leaves her on the couch w a blanket, and heads off to practice. if she wakes up when he returns, he'll drive her back to her apartment.

she's still asleep when he comes back, legs dangling and back contorted in an impossible position. lxc feels... off until he decides to move her onto his bed, and take the couch instead.)

=

the prelude to seeing something thotty was lxc catching the renegades during practice on campus. this week, they were in their rotation near his building.

=

He catches them at the tail end of everything, when members are lying around on the ground heedless of filth, some draped on the random assortment of chairs all over, and others were going through moves in a lackluster and joking manner.

"Yunxun, your ride's here!"

"Quick, speedrun any percent complete!"

Zhu Yunxun is one of the dancers still upright. She and her friend mirror each other, performing their choreography so quickly that it's more rambunctious arm waving and enthusiastic vibrations than any semblance of form.

"If you can do it slowly, you can do it quickly!" one of them yells, and Lan Xichen has to cough from a surprised laugh. The cough turns into a full-blown laugh when Zhu Yunxun and her partner grab one of the chairs for a part of the dance, and in their exhausted enthusiasm they end up falling over each other instead, and start kicking at one another.

"Is that how it goes?" he interrupts their 'practice'.

"You'll see at the festival," Zhu Yunxun groans, picking herself up. "Thanks for the ride, like always. I'll buy boba."

"Please come!" her partner calls out from the floor. "Tell your friends and family!"

"I will!" Lan Xichen promises. He's actually very excited for the fall festival - all his years attending this university, hearing of The Renegades but nothing in detail, this will be the first that he sees of their performances.

=

"Hey, I never noticed."

"Hm?" Lan Xichen looks up from the frying pan. Instead of sitting at the counter like she does after helping him prepare the mise-en-place, he sees Zhu Yunxun stalking around his modest dining table. Her eyes are narrowed at the furniture in a considering manner. "Noticed what?"

"These chairs are so... perfect."

What?

Lan Xichen turns back to the pan, noting that the mushrooms were done, and turns off the stove. They can wait a bit before serving.

"What does that even mean?" he prods her with a laugh. After these last few months, she has loosened up to speak her mind. Lan Xichen considers his life much poorer for the lack of her conversation before.

("'Why don't I like this?!' Limp noodle shit! Look at them! My grandma does taichi with more life than this!" she says with heated criticism. His TV is playing a dance that he caught her complaining about to her teammates, and he asked out of curiosity.

It's very much like martial arts, in a way. He doesn't understand it, but Zhu Yunxun is not the fraud she keeps labeling herself as. Not if she feels like this.

"Ugh, they're only getting away with this because they're hot and skinny," she scowls. "The Renegades have people three times that size with ten times more energy and appeal.")

Zhu Yunxun pulls out one of his chairs. "I keep telling Yan Xichao that we need to find better chairs for the choreo. The ones we're borrowing are 1) too flimsy, and 2) ugly as fuck."

"Sit down?"

Lan Xichen sees no reason to not listen.

"You got some real adult chairs, here, senior. Do you mind -" she kicks gently with her heel, demonstrating for him to push backwards, "- nice, padding the feet and all that, you must pay your taxes, too -"

"Would you like to borrow my chairs for your performance, Yunxun?" Lan Xichen stops her muttering; as entertaining as it is, dinner is getting cold and he'd rather cut to the chase.

"May I?" She starts doing the Nervous Fretting Thing, "I mean, you don't have to, I don't want us grimy goblins ruining your nice furniture, none of us have the money to pay you back - I can probably get Shen Yuan to pay, he owes me his life - but -"

"It's fine," he interrupts her with a chuckle. "I wouldn't offer if I wasn't sure."

"Okay, okay, okay," she accepts. "Um, just... can we check height?" Zhu Yunxun stands next to him, and squats to his seated depth. She frowns and does it again. "I don't wanna take your chairs if they're just gonna be too awkward."

He sits there as she moves around him, hovering over his thighs, reaching forward with her arms to occasionally check distance. It's rather awkward, with no discernable purpose to her motions.

"Wouldn't it be better to actually perform the moves?" Lan Xichen asks dryly.

"I just showered and borrowed clothes, don't wanna get sweaty," she complains, but still moves to start over.

Lan Xichen listens to her quickly explain his part - he doesn't have to do much but sit there, reclining leisurely, until she gives the cue for him to push back.

"I'll push, too, but you need to do the hard work." Zhu Yunxun steps away and puts on her earbuds. Once she fiddles with her phone and starts the song, the only cue Lan Xichen gets before she starts is a quiet "five, six, seven, eight -"

With the music in her ears and perfect execution on her mind, it's as if he becomes a prop for her performance. Not that she ignores him - she makes eye contact that sells the mood, she is unafraid to walk up to him directly, and she puts her hands solidly on his thighs.

It takes everything to not yelp when she makes contact, and even more of himself to keep steady when her sharp motions before are juxtaposed with the languid arch and drop Zhu Yunxun does in front of his seat. The pressure of her hands on his thighs change as her weight distribution shifts, he notes - she pushes his legs apart, a bounce on her heels, knees out then in, and another sinuous roll that ends with a toss of hair. That twists back into a standing position without any instability or effort, closing his legs along the way.

(For as clumsy as she is as her typically sleep-deprived self, her balance and physical control are quite apparent now.)

The next test of Lan Xichen's control over his reflexes is after a few more beats, and she seats herself on his lap with legs swept to the side. He hears her counting under her breath, "- lean in, six, seven, eight, then -" her left hand slides up, hovering over his chest.

"Loosen up my buttons, babe, uh huh -" she murmurs, as the hand then slides down and emphasizes the cadence of the lyrics with mock-pulling, as if she were ripping his shirt open.

When she pushes away, Lan Xichen has a not a moment of rest before she turns and swings her legs open, straddling his lap while facing away. Her thighs keep her from truly touching onto his legs like before - even as she does body rolls, arms and hands cutting through the arm in intricate poses ("It's called 'voguing'"), hair whipping close enough that the pink strands almost brush his nose with the scent of his own shampoo -

Then the arch of her back goes lax and she abruptly sits down onto his knees.

"Uh -" His face feels ice cold, but his ears feel like they were doused with gasoline and lit with a match.

"So tired," she complains, pulling the earbuds out and pocketing them. "I think that's most of the chairwork. If I have clearance, then so does everyone else. Or they can lean more, I don't care. I like these chairs."

Zhu Yunxun gets up, finally showing her fatigue in the slight sway of her posture. Lan Xichen reaches to steady her automatically, but flinches as he touches the exposed skin of her hip. The borrowed pants, his own sleepwear, started low and rode even lower over the course of the dance. Zhu Yunxun's own fitted t-shirt ("Always have freebies from school giveaways," she jokes) didn't cover that gap.

"If you like the chairs, just borrow them," Lan Xichen says, standing up quickly to get back behind the kitchen counter and plate their dinner. "Let's eat?" He glances over at her for a moment.

Zhu Yunxun is busy moving the chair back and setting the table. "Appreciate it - dinner and chairs," she says with cheer.