Work Text:
“Grease is the word, is the word that you heard, it’s got a groove, it’s got a meaning, DUN DUN DUN!” Shang Qinghua sings, his hands slapping the dashboard along to the beat.
Liu Qingge throws him a shady look of disinterest; brows furrowing, a shadow seemingly grows across the top half of his face. He smacks Shang Qinghua’s hands away and hisses at him. “Don’t pound on the dash!”
Shang Qinghua pointedly shoves his tongue out in return. “Excuse me, princess, but who pissed in your Cheerios this morning? A little tap ain’t gonna hurt it!”
“And a little tap ain’t gonna hurt your face,” Liu Qingge spits.
In the backseat of the car, Shen Yuan sighs. It’s the same old with these two: Shang Qinghua is too much trouble for what he’s worth (plus he can be really annoying) and Liu Qingge is, more-or-less, a wet blanket. He fiddles with the straps of his backpack, silently preparing himself for the two to completely ruin his morning.
However, he’s not an idiot. Pissing off Liu Qingge is always a bad idea, and Shen Yuan would rather not have his ass beat so early in the day.
So.
“Knock it off, you knucklehead,” Shen Yuan says, delivering a swift smack to the back of Shang Qinghua’s skull. “Last thing you need is to head to class with both of your eyes swollen shut.”
“Cork it, four eyes!” Shang Qinghua argues back. Twisting around in his seat, he clutches the back of his head and sends a glare Shen Yuan’s way. “Don’t take his side! I wasn’t doing anything wrong! You two are just sticks in the mud!”
“Yeah, and for what? You’re sticking out your tongue. What are you, 12?”
“Sticks! In! The! Mud!” Shang Qinghua proclaims, each syllable squeezing through his teeth. A sudden shout bursts from his throat as the car screeches to a halt; Shang Qinghua flies forward and snaps right back into place, though without cracking his back against the seat.
He turns to Liu Qingge, a curse readying itself on his tongue. “You…!”
Liu Qingge merely flashes him a miniscule smirk. “The light turned red.”
Shen Yuan has to stifle a laugh, and he manages to send Liu Qingge a grateful look through the rearview mirror. The chatter gradually dies down (it’s mostly Shang Qinghua huffing in silence while clutching his neck) and the rest of the ride is peaceful.
Within moments, the car rolls into the parking lot of Twelve Peaks University. A number of cars already lines the spots, and a flood of people make way towards the building while others remain at their cars, either sitting on the hoods or barking at each other through the open windows.
Liu Qingge smoothly pulls in next to a black Chevy before throwing the car into park and fishing his key from the ignition. He then promptly turns to Shang Qinghua, his hand flying out to shove the other against the car door. “Alright, get the fuck out.”
Shang Qinghua mutters an asshole under his breath, yet he does as told. Shen Yuan follows in suit, his slender fingers nimbly pushing his glasses higher up his nose.
“Hey, hey, Cucumber-bro,” Shang Qinghua says, hooking around the car and slinging his arm around Shen Yuan’s shoulders, “I say we beat feet and leave this frosted fuck in our dust!”
“You want another black eye, candy ass?” Liu Qingge gripes, the sound of his car door slamming shut following after. Reaching out, he grasps Shang Qinghua’s wrist and removes his arm from around Shen Yuan’s shoulders. “I’d be more than happy to let you walk yourself home.”
“Or,” Shen Yuan cuts in, forcing his way in between the two and throwing his arms around either one’s shoulders, “you two don’t have another fight. That seems better, no?”
Shang Qinghua snickers in Liu Qingge’s direction. Liu Qingge, on the other hand, grumbles and lets himself be pulled in the direction of the school.
Twelve Peaks University is a large brick and mortar building nestled in the mountains of the town of Cang Qiong; surrounded by voluminous pine, oak, and fir trees, the university is oddly well hidden, yet serves as a peaceful, otherworldly place. The smell of sap and chrysanthemums hangs heavily in the air. If anything, the location would serve better as a nature reserve or some detached sect from the historical novels Shen Yuan reads.
The trio make way towards that very building, dreading the early onslaught of lectures and piles of homework awaiting them. That is, however, until Shang Qinghua jolts to a stop and rips Shen Yuan backwards from the step he’s taking.
“Shit, shit, code red!” Shang Qinghua hurriedly whispers. “I didn’t think he’d be this close to the front entrance!”
Following his friend’s line of sight, Shen Yuan spots a black hot rod just up ahead. The sides are painted with an intricate design reminiscent of crackling ice. The car sticks out like a sore thumb, yet it’d be a lie if Shen Yuan were to say that it was an ugly car. No, no, it’s not the car that Shang Qinghua is afraid of, it’s the owner who terrifies him.
Mobei-jun sits idly in his seat, seemingly smoothing down his hair while studying himself in the rearview mirror. While handsome, his neutral expression is just about as icy as his ride’s paintjob, plus his attitude is much to be desired. He’s more-or-less approachable than Liu Qingge.
Despite not being in high school anymore, it seems as though Mobei-jun never got over some of his bullying tendencies… He’s rather apathetic and frosty towards others, but when it comes to Shang Qinghua, it is declared war. Even to this day, no one knows for sure why he’s Shang Qinghua’s personal bully.
Hence why Shang Qinghua turns into a complete chicken shit when the other is around.
Rolling his eyes, Liu Qingge clicks his tongue. “Oi, would you mind getting a move on? I ain’t got all day.”
“Hey, come on…” Shen Yuan pleads, “We don’t need Shang Qinghua having another accident…”
Shang Qinghua pales. “That was one time!” he screeches.
Apart from Mobei-jun, two others sit in the car: another male up front, and a pretty girl in the back. The girl, Sha Hualing, is easily one of the most popular girls in the school, yet she, too, is rather hard to approach. From her spot, she examines her pristine nails – painted in blood red, of course. She’s known to be the feisty type, always ready to pick a fight and rub others into the ground with the sole of her shoe.
Finally, there’s Luo Binghe. Much like his two companions, he’s undeniably attractive – seven parts feminine, three parts masculine, 100% beautiful. Most of the girls on campus have a crush on him to some degree, whether it’s because of his looks, his immaculate physique, or the way he can dominate an entire room with a single glance…
There is, however, one thing about the three of them that makes the average person’s hair stand on end.
They’re all greasers.
Granted, Liu Qingge is a greaser himself, and he has the attitude and language to back it up. But no, these three – the Luo Devils – are something else entirely. They’re known to be a vicious bunch, their numbers ranging in ages and sexes. It’s said that if you were to see one bearing the mark of the devil, it’d be better to turn the other way.
As Shen Yuan and his friends shuffle their way closer to the school’s entrance, they try to remain small, unnoticeable. (Besides Liu Qingge, but no one dares to pick a fight with them when he’s around.) The weight of a heavy gaze lands on Shen Yuan, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. Liu Qingge’s hand flies out and catches him by the arm; Shen Yuan is quick to thank him before timidly turning his head in the direction of his onlooker.
Luo Binghe’s eyes are trained on Liu Qingge, the irises cold and dark. They then flicker to Shen Yuan and the ice immediately melts away, revealing doe eyes that glimmer like the stars. A hint of a smile forms on Luo Binghe’s full lips, but it turns into a frown when Shen Yuan is hastily tugged away.
“Don’t pay attention to him,” Liu Qingge grunts. “Luo Binghe is bad news.”
“Says you,” Shen Yuan responds, giving a quirk of his eyebrow.
The three finally ascend the steps leading into the university; the scent of sap and chrysanthemums fades into one of old books and floor polish, and the chattering of students grows tenfold. Shang Qinghua pulls a face. Liu Qingge’s eyebrows twitch in irritation. Shen Yuan gives a single clap of his hands.
“Alright. We’re meeting back here for some grub later, right?”
“You got that right,” Shang Qinghua tells him. “After all this accounting crap, I wanna hang and get some burgers.” And, just as he takes off, he offers the other two a quick salute. “See you later, alligator.”
“After a while, crocodile!”
“God, you two are such nerds,” Liu Qingge drawls. He lightly punches Shen Yuan in the shoulder and leaves.
And, just like that, Shen Yuan is all alone. Straightening his backpack straps, he takes off in the direction of his first class of the day.
Get into education, they said. It would be fun, they said. Go to university and make some goddamn money, they said.
Yeah, right.
It’s only late in the morning and already Shen Yuan feels as though he’s been put through the ringer. And no, it doesn’t help that Shen Yuan spent hours of the night reading the latest novel of a fantasy series he’s a huge fan of. He’s a die-hard fan, his future and sleeping routine be damned.
In fact, he’s so sleep deprived that he doesn’t notice a certain someone’s gaze focused on the back of his head. Luo Binghe only sits one row behind him, yet instead of concentrating on the writings on the chalkboard and the professor’s lecture, he merely stares at the person in front of him. With a hand propping up his chin, his long eyelashes flutter as he slowly blinks. Like this, he’s more reminiscent of a sweet doll staring longingly at her crush (which he is, mind you) instead of the big bad hood people have made him out to be.
Truthfully, he spends every one of these classes he has with Shen Yuan like this. He’d prefer to sit directly next to him, but Shen Yuan is so timid, so small. Luo Binghe would love nothing more than to hold Shen Yuan in his hand and hide him in his pocket.
Luo Binghe has no problem sitting behind Shen Yuan like this. This is his seat, and he’ll be damned if someone else gets to it before he does. By this point, he’s committed each strand of hair to memory, the fabric of the sweaters, the twitch of Shen Yuan’s shoulders whenever he feels restless.
Shen Yuan stifles a yawn. He’s rather fond of this particular class, and his professor, Yue Qingyuan, is his favorite. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the class, he’s simply exhausted. He struggles to keep up with his notes, his vision blurring in and out of focus. Before he knows it, he falls asleep sitting straight up.
He only awakes when a hand is gently shaking his shoulder and his name rings out in a deep voice. Blinking himself awake, Shen Yuan is met with a pair of dazzling doe eyes set in a too-perfect face. Long, curly hair is swept back in a ponytail, the front portion styled into a pompadour. The grease in the hair shines under the light, making it look as though the other person is glowing.
“Shen Yuan,” they say. Their voice is deep, melodic.
Beautiful.
Rousing himself further awake, Shen Yuan gives a mighty yawn and stretches his arms high over his head. He pauses, then, as reality sets in. He fell asleep in class! Shit, as a top-ranking student, he cannot afford to be so careless!
Shen Yuan’s eyes flick to his so-called savior; his heart stills in his chest as his breathing falls flat. The one to wake him up was no one other than Luo Binghe. The Luo Binghe.
His mouth feels way too dry. The cottony sensation makes it difficult to swallow; his hands, however, sweat profusely. Binghe’s stare holds a power that makes Shen Yuan want to curl up at his feet and beg for mercy.
But why… Why is he here? Why is he waking him up like this?
“The professor wants to speak with you,” Binghe tells him.
If possible, Shen Yuan’s gut drops even further. Now he’s done it. He’s truly done for!
Nodding profusely, Shen Yuan gathers his belongings, his backpack being slung over his shoulder as he scurries over to Yue Qingyuan’s desk. Clutching his textbook tightly, he draws to a shaky halt. Binghe merely rolls up next to him, movements slow and fluid. The heat radiating off his body serves both as a comfort and a thinly veiled threat.
Yue Qingyuan offers the two of them a smile. Thankfully, he’s the kind, patient type, and he’s always seemed to have a particular soft spot when it comes to Shen Yuan. Bearing this in mind, Shen Yuan maybe, just maybe, will be let off the hook.
Yue Qingyuan gently taps his papers even on the desk before bringing himself to a proper stand. “Binghe, Yuan,” he begins, “there’s something I’d like to discuss with the both of you.”
Shen Yuan’s brows twitch. His professor isn’t bringing up the “sleeping in class” subject, so…
He turns to Binghe. “Luo Binghe, I’m sure you’re well aware, but your grades in this class are rather… lacking. Normally, other people would’ve dropped you from the class by now, but I like to give my students a chance to redeem themselves first.”
Oh.
Oh.
So that’s what this is about.
Binghe (surprisingly) flashes a bashful expression. “Apologies, sir. I’ve been distracted.”
Yue Qingyuan continues. “I know you’re bright, Binghe. You just have to reach your full potential! You’d pass with flying colors if you’d set your mind to it! However, a distracted mind means that one isn’t learning properly.” He then switches his attention to Shen Yuan. “Shen Yuan, my dear boy, I would like you to be the one to tutor Binghe.”
Simultaneously, Binghe releases a sharp gasp while Shen Yuan sputters a what?!
Putting his hands up, Yue Qingyuan stops them before either one can carry on. “Shen Yuan, you’re the top student in this class; there’s no one else more suited than you! Plus, tutoring Binghe would be on your record, and you would be compensated for your time.”
“Er, sir, I’m not too sure,” Shen Yuan says hesitantly, “I’ve never really tutored anyone before.”
A large hand suddenly clutches onto his shoulder. Luo Binghe looks to him with large, glittering eyes. “Please, Shen Yuan? I can’t afford to be kicked out. My mother worked so hard to pay for my tuition, I can’t possibly let her down…” His full lips push themselves into a pout, and a sheen of tears glazes his eyes.
Shen Yuan’s never seen such a sincere puppy-dog expression in his life. His insides twitch at the sight.
His ears feel oddly warm as he forces himself to look away from Binghe’s pleading gaze. “Alright, fine,” he says. “I’ll do it.”
“Many thanks to Shen Yuan!” Binghe chirps. He sounds… way too excited about this.
Just… what exactly has Shen Yuan gotten himself into?
Some days, Shen Yuan’s group meets up in the library after classes; they have a book club (as said by Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua) or a nerd circle jerk (as Liu Qingge likes to put it). Frankly, it’s no one else’s problem that Liu Qingge is such a blowhard and can’t stand being around the other two, yet here he is.
Despite pursuing a major in accounting, Shang Qinghua craves to become a worldly renown author. It’s often during these “meetings” that he spends his time typing away at a typewriter, his fingers flying across the keys. He has an insane ability of completely missing any typos; Shen Yuan finds it rather impressive, truthfully, but the only issue is that he has a love/hate relationship with Shang Qinghua’s writing.
“This is ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Shen Yuan whisper-yells. He’d have no problem otherwise if he weren’t in the library, but, as they are, he’ll settle. “Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky my ass! There are more plot holes here than there is in Swiss cheese!”
With a flurry of papers, Shen Yuan slaps the manuscript down onto the table. Liu Qingge glances up from his notebook and shoots Shen Yuan a glare. He goes ignored. Shen Yuan promptly shakes a fist at Shang Qinghua.
“How dare I be subjected to such crap?! I feel like I’m going to choke on my own blood over this!”
There’s a sharp cling! that echoes as the typewriter’s carriage slides home. Although Shang Qinghua doesn’t look away from his work, he still rolls his eyes. “Then quit reading it, then. I never forced you to be my proofreader.”
How shameless!
Shen Yuan guts a thumb at Liu Qingge. “You think he will do it?”
“Fuck that. Leave me out of this,” Liu Qingge grunts.
“You greasers have no class,” Shang Qinghua retorts. “You wouldn’t know great literature even if it hit you in the keester.”
“You wanna go, candy ass?” Liu Qingge seethes. “Mobei-jun isn’t the only one who can kick your ass.”
Shang Qinghua flinches, yet his fingers still don’t make a mistake. “…Forgive me, sir.”
The three fall into a silence, then. The rhythmic tap tap tap of keytops help to keep Shen Yuan awake, thankfully. Glancing at Liu Qingge from the corner of his eye, he mulls over the word greaser, tossing and turning it around in his brain. Funny how a term about greasy hair came to be acquainted with hoods.
“Oh!” Shen Yuan suddenly perks up, “I forgot to tell you guys – I’m tutoring Luo Binghe now.”
The pencil in Liu Qingge’s hand snaps in two while Shang Qinghua curses at his abrupt typo.
“What,” Liu Qingge says through clenched teeth.
Shang Qinghua’s eyes turn comically large. “You’re tutoring Luo Binghe?!” he shouts. The librarian loudly shushes him, and he hastily apologizes. Shang Qinghua repeats himself, although this time quieter.
Honestly… it’s not that surprising for this kind of reaction.
“Yeah,” Shen Yuan says. “Apparently, he isn’t doing too well in Yue Qingyuan’s class. I was asked to be his tutor, and I’ll be getting paid, so…” He shrugs. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
“Wouldn’t hurt? Wouldn’t hurt?!” Shang Qinghua parrots. “Are you crazy? This is Luo Binghe we’re talking about! The guy can twist you into a pretzel with one arm! You’re seeking certain death if you hang out around him! And don’t forget about Mobei-jun!”
“You shouldn’t hang out with him,” Liu Qingge cuts in. There’s an odd undertone to his voice.
“It’s not like I’m deliberately trying to be friends with him,” Shen Yuan explains. “It’s only tutoring. If he’s too much of an asshole to me, I’ll end it. He could flunk out for all I care.” The answer seems to be enough to satiate Liu Qingge, yet a deep scowl remains on his handsome face.
Again, they fall back into that silence from earlier. Shen Yuan plays what he said on loop in his mind, yet something doesn’t feel right. Although he said Luo Binghe is an asshole, his heart doesn’t feel it. That puppy-dog expression springs to his mind’s eye, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Someone who can make a face like that can’t have a shitty personality, right?
…Right?
The tutoring begins the next day.
Which is a shame, really, since the weather outside is so pleasant, the trees swaying with the chrysanthemum-scented breeze. Shen Yuan sighs, his vision focused on the other side of the window. He wonders what Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge are doing right now. Are they grabbing burgers? Are they at that one joint that makes Shen Yuan’s favorite steamed buns?
Talk about a bummer.
“Shizun, I’m here.”
Shen Yuan startles. His head whips to the side (which ow, he did it too fast) and he’s met with the bright red fabric of Luo Binghe’s shirt. Shen Yuan flinches; when did Binghe get so close without him noticing? Binghe is anything but small, so he shouldn’t be that sneaky.
Craning his neck back, Shen Yuan’s gaze meets Binghe’s. His eyes dazzle with mirth, his lashes elegant and long – the perfect frame to perfect art. It’s almost unfair how pretty he is.
It takes a moment too long for Shen Yuan to realize he’s staring. Hastily clearing his throat, he motions for Luo Binghe to take the seat across from him. Binghe, however, sits squarely next to him.
“It’d be better for Shizun to teach me this way, yes?” Binghe drawls, voice light.
Shen Yuan blinks owlishly at him. Never mind the size difference between them – what’s with this Shizun business?
“Uh… Binghe, why are you calling me that?”
The corners of Binghe’s mouth twitch. “What, Shizun?” He chuckles slightly. “Considering you’re my teacher now, it’s only appropriate.” His eyes gleam. “I’d like Shen Yuan to be in that position.”
Position? Position?
“Ah,” Shen Yuan says dumbly. “Very well, then.” Turning away, he fishes his supplies from his backpack and sets it on the table. “Alright, Binghe, did you bring your work?” he asks, looking to his… student with an expectant eye.
“Yes, Shizun, this disciple has brought what he needed.”
Shen Yuan’s brain short-circuits.
He can only watch on in a stupor as Binghe sets his textbook down and flips his notebook open. Binghe’s posture is straight, his feet flat on the floor, a pencil perched easily in his hand. He… really is acting like a star pupil. As far as Shen Yuan knows, Luo Binghe would slump in his seat during class, so what gives?
“What… What is it that Binghe has the most trouble understanding?” Shen Yuan asks, lips going on autopilot. His throat feels weirdly cottony.
“This disciple tends to get distracted during Yue Qingyuan’s lectures,” Binghe replies easily. “It’d be best for Shizun to explain everything to me in excruciating detail.”
“Everything…? Even the things we’ve learned at the beginning of the semester?”
Luo Binghe nods.
It wouldn’t be useful at the moment since Yue Qingyuan’s current lectures focus on an entirely different chapter, but there’s the final that lies in the distance… Absolutely superb, Binghe! You’re thinking of the future of your course!
It’s at this moment that Shen Yuan realizes that Binghe is serious about this. Who would he be, to decline such an optimistic pupil! Shen Yuan’s very livelihood of being an educator is riding on this!
He slips into his Shizun persona easily. To be a great teacher, one must have the right aura about them! One must be dignified and respectable! One must be clear and concise with their words!
Before he knows it, Shen Yuan is explaining in great detail about chapters past, his lithe fingers drawing attention to certain lines of text in the book. Under his guidance, Binghe creates notes so lovely that they’re worth salivating over!
Thankfully, Binghe takes it all in stride, his fingers quick with his pencil and his questions straight and meaningful. Yue Qingyuan was right – Luo Binghe is bright, he just needed the right push!
Who would’ve guessed? Luo Binghe is a star student!
Having such a wonderful student under his wing only makes Shen Yuan more enthusiastic about his lesson. In fact, he becomes so heated with passion that he needed to fold a piece of notebook paper into a fan!
The tutoring session finally comes to end sometime in the late afternoon. Binghe’s notebook is completely full, much to Shen Yuan’s satisfaction. With a delighted humph, Shen Yuan snaps his textbook closed and sets a hand on Binghe’s shoulder.
“Wonderful work today, Binghe! You’re a lot smarter than I originally anticipated!”
A happy blush erupts across Binghe’s handsome face. “This disciple thanks Shizun for being a fantastic teacher.”
Shen Yuan grants him a smile and a pat on the shoulder. He then collects his belongings and slips them into his backpack before drawing to a stand.
“Shizun,” Binghe hurriedly says, “are you leaving? Now?”
“I have my own work to do, you know,” Shen Yuan tells him. “We’ll have our next session in a day or two.”
At that, Binghe visibly deflates, and he purses his lips in disappointment. “Then… Does Shizun need a ride home?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Liu Qingge’s voice abruptly barks. Fortunately, the librarian left a while ago, so there’s no need to control his volume (not like he would, anyway).
Binghe’s eyes drop into narrow slits when he sees Liu Qingge. “Can I help you?”
Liu Qingge throws him a sneer but focuses his attention on Shen Yuan. “C’mon, germ. You said to collect you on the hour, yet you ain’t come outside yet.”
“Maybe because he’s busy with somebody other than you,” Binghe quips.
At his side, Liu Qingge’s knuckles crack when he tightens his hand into a fist. “You itchin’ for a switchin’?
Scoffing, Binghe stands from his seat and steps before Liu Qingge. Although Luo Binghe has a couple centimeters on him, both men possess the same intense air of hostility. “I’d offer a chance at a group fight, but I don’t aim for lone wolves.”
“Alright, alright, don’t throw a hissy fit,” Shen Yuan says, quickly stepping between the two and placing a hand on Liu Qingge’s chest. He sends his friend a pleading look. “He’s trying to get a rise out of you. Ignore him, okay? Let’s just go.”
Finally, Liu Qingge’s eyes fall back onto Shen Yuan. The harsh edge to them softens, and he gives a curt nod. Shen Yuan throws a casual goodbye over his shoulder and leads Liu Qingge out of the library, much to Binghe’s chagrin.
“Guys, you know Luo Binghe. Binghe, this is Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge,” Shen Yuan says, albeit awkwardly.
Here they are again, in their trusty meeting spot (a.k.a. the library); it is time for another book club meeting, and there just so happens to be a plus one. Granted, Shen Yuan did tell Binghe that their next tutoring session would be in a day or two’s time, but he hadn’t exactly anticipated this.
At the end of Yue Qingyuan’s class that day, Shen Yuan told his lovely little student that he had plans for afterhours. Binghe seemed to take that quite… personally, for he immediately pouted. Can’t I just come along? he asked. We can hold our session afterwards, right, Shizun?
Initially, Shen Yuan was going to tell him no, but then Binghe flashed those irresistible puppy dog eyes and he quickly found himself giving in.
And so… this.
Liu Qingge is the first to crack a comment. “Why is this bozo here?” Venom drips from his words, his tongue lashing harshly in his mouth. Hell, even his glare is worse than usual.
Shang Qinghua shifts his eyes between the three of them, his gaze lingering on Luo Binghe. He hasn’t said anything yet, but Shen Yuan can tell that he’s expecting Mobei-jun to materialize out of thin air.
Shen Yuan pointedly ignores them both and offers Binghe to sit at the table. “Feel free to ignore us. Catch up on your reading.”
Binghe’s eyes have yet to move from Liu Qingge, but upon Shen Yuan’s words, he merely nods his head and sinks down into a chair. “Yes, Shizun.”
Liu Qingge’s eye twitches at the title. What’s more, Binghe even does exactly what Shen Yuan told him. Silence takes over the small group as he opens his textbook and begins to take in its contents.
Shen Yuan claps his hands together and takes his usual spot. “Boss Airplane, how is the atrocious tale coming along?”
And, like if it were any other meeting, Shang Qinghua disregards Luo Binghe’s presence and sends Shen Yuan a deeply lined sneer. “Atrocious? Who do you think you’re talking to? Every time I supply you with an update, you practically eat it out of my hands! If anybody is the culprit here, it’s you!”
“Shang Qinghua! Quiet!” the library squawks from a bookshelf nearby.
“Sorry, sorry!” he hastily replies, consciously dropping his voice to a whisper. His eyes scream nothing short of fury when he redirects them to Shen Yuan. “Proud Immortal Demon Way is going to take the world by storm, just you watch!”
Liu Qingge rolls his eyes. “Because of the blatant sexuality and naked women, right? It’s definitely going to catch attention.”
Shang Qinghua gawks at him. “Hark! Do my ears deceive me? Have you finally read my manuscript?”
Liu Qingge juts a thumb at Shen Yuan. “No. This asshole complains too much about it in our free time.”
“Womanly charm wins every man’s heart!” Shang Qinghua declares. “Risqué is the way of the future! Imagine – thousands of people flocking bookstores everywhere to get a glimpse at the unrivaled beauty of it all! Praises will be spilling from their lips!”
“You’re delusional,” Shen Yuan deadpans.
“You’re a virgin,” Shang Qinghua spits back.
Luo Binghe silently chokes in his seat.
Shen Yuan’s face flares up, yet he refuses to back down. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Simple.” Shang Qingyuan pauses, clears his throat. “To the virgin eye, slivers of skin are tantalizing. The imagination is such a powerful, vast thing. So, if you apply that ideology with the push my writing gives, this book will be a hit.”
“And if they’re not a virgin?” Liu Qingge interjects. Even he is taking an interest now? What gives???
“Ohoho, a wonderful question, my friend! In this day and age, sex is such a taboo in media! Virgin or not, plenty of people secretly engage in the delights of porn. They know the delights and satisfaction of a good orgasm, and when put in an artistically tasteful way… It’s a win-win for everyone!”
“You’re saying that your writing is artistically tasteful?!” Shen Yuan quietly shrieks. “Your writing is worse than the dirty mags you keep under your bed!”
“You still enjoy it!”
“I’m not some sex-craved imbecile!”
“Get bent, Shen Yuan! I’ll prove you wrong!” Shang Qinghua abruptly turns to Luo Binghe, his eyes large and wild. “Pssst! Luo Binghe!”
Binghe glances up from the text that he was pretending to read. “Yes?”
“I need your opinion on something,” Shang Qinghua continues. “If you were to read a book full of absolute beauties, your ideal taste, doing something like… Like scandalously taking off their socks or flashing some thigh under their skirt, wouldn’t you enjoy it?”
Shen Yuan smacks his friend’s shoulder. “You idiot! You don’t just ask someone a stupid question like that!”
Liu Qingge grunts his agreement.
Luo Binghe, however, looks thoughtful. A delicate shade of pink takes over his cheeks, then, and Shen Yuan is left sputtering at the sight. What could he be thinking of to make him blush so cutely????
“I would very much enjoy it,” Binghe says, his tone coy.
Even Liu Qingge can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Shang Qinghua nearly barks out a laugh, but he quickly catches himself, his eyes searching for the librarian. Seeing that she’s nowhere in sight, he hisses his laughter and jabs his finger into Shen Yuan’s ribs. “What’d I tell you, Cucumber-bro? I will invoke even the manliest person’s fantasies!”
“Doesn’t change the fact that your plotlines are less endowed than your protagonist’s harem,” Shen Yuan seethes.
“Don’t be jealous, my dear friend,” Shang Qinghua coos. “Green is your color, but not in this shade!”
“I am surrounded by idiots,” Liu Qingge grumbles. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Last I checked, this isn’t the debate club.”
Shang Qinghua looks to him. “What about you? What are your tastes? What gets you going?”
Liu Qingge spares a glance in Shen Yuan’s direction, but then he rolls his eyes. “The little germ here is right. A dumb question isn’t going to fix your plot holes.”
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe pipes up, “is this… usually how your club meetings go?”
Liu Qingge snaps his neck in Binghe’s direction. “Didn’t he tell you to read your fucking textbook? Who the hell are you calling Shizun anyway?!”
Binghe trills his lips at him. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“Jealous, my ass! I don’t appreciate some narcissistic ass wipe invading my territory!”
“Your territory? Don’t you need a gang for that?”
There’s a loud bang as Liu Qingge’s palms slam down onto the table as he shoots up from his seat. “Say that again to my fucking face.”
“Ice it, Liu Qingge!” Shen Yuan exclaims.
Liu Qingge points an accusatory finger at Luo Binghe. “Why you gotta take this punk’s side?”
“I ain’t taking nobody’s side, you dunce!”
“Uh, guys?” Shang Qinghua squeaks. He nods his head in a certain direction.
Both Shen Yuan and Liu Qingge grimace when they meet the librarian’s irritated stare. “Out,” she hisses.
There’s a flurry of yes ma’am and the shuffling of papers as the group hurriedly grabs their belongings and hurries out the library.
Liu Qingge is positively seething the entire way towards the parking lot – which, to be honest, isn’t much different than how he usually is. Shen Yuan hastily catches up him, his stride long and rushed. Curse Liu Qingge’s long legs!
“Liu Qingge,” Shen Yuan says, tone exasperated. “Liu Qingge-“ he reaches out and snatches the other by the arm, “-will you take a moment and calm down?”
Whipping off his arm, Liu Qingge turns on his heels and shoves Shen Yuan away. “Calm down?! What, are you some type of idiot?!”
Binghe immediately swoops between the two, his arms outspread. “You want your arms ripped off?” he growls.
Liu Qingge points a finger at him again. “And you, Luo Binghe, watch your fucking mouth! Just because you got some lackeys to back you up doesn’t mean shit!”
“Liu Qingge,” Shen Yuan tries again, but Liu Qingge cuts him off.
“Can it. I’m going home.”
Shang Qinghua, who has been quiet this entire time, balks at Liu Qingge. His feet carry him over to Liu Qingge’s side, an apologetic expression etching his face. Shen Yuan can’t blame him – he needs a ride, too, but now… Yeah, his chances are squashed.
He can only watch on helplessly as Liu Qingge stalks away, Shang Qinghua in tow. Talk about a bummer way to end the day.
Binghe huffs. “Leave him be, Shizun. He’s not worth the time.”
It’s funny because Luo Binghe is right. Liu Qingge’s always had a short temper, and his patience is next to nonexistent. It’s actually a miracle that he hasn’t been on a murderous rampage yet. Still, although Liu Qingge is a frosty bitch, the blow stings.
Shen Yuan kicks at the floor. “Binghe… do you have a ride home?”
Now that Liu Qingge is out of the picture, Binghe’s hostility has subsided. Rubbing the back of his neck, he sends Shen Yuan a sheepish smile. “Would Shizun be disappointed if I told him that Mobei-jun was busy this afternoon?”
“Oh, Binghe,” Shen Yuan coos, much like he wasn’t the one just complaining about not having a ride home. “It’ll take a little while, but we can walk to my place, okay? We still have to get your studying session in!”
Binghe falls quiet, his expression absent.
“…Binghe?”
He then abruptly drops to the floor, seemingly out for the count.
“Binghe!!”
When Binghe finally comes to, he finds himself in a house that he doesn’t recognize.
His head feels too heavy as he sits up, both mouth and mind flooded with a cottony feeling. A murmur of voices comes from the next room over; he recognizes Shen Yuan’s instantly, but as for the others… He can only assume that they belong to his family members, perhaps?
“I still can’t believe you brought such a hunk home!” a young girl’s shrill voice squeaks. “Do you know if he’s seeing anybody?”
“Yingying!” Shen Yuan’s mother snaps. “He is way too old for you! Don’t ruin any chances Yuan has for new friends!”
“Mom!” Shen Yuan complains. “I have friends!”
“Who? That delinquent Liu Qingge? He’s going to get both of you in prison if you keep hanging out with him!”
There’s something said too low for Luo Binghe to understand, but then the door opens, revealing Shen Yuan. His eyes widen behind his large glasses, creating a look too similar to that of a bug. He hurries over to Binghe’s side, relief apparent on his face.
“Binghe, thank goodness you’re alright! I was so worried you gave yourself a concussion!”
Binghe must’ve died if he’s able to have Shen Yuan leaning over him like this, face close and expression concerned.
“Shizun,” Binghe croaks, “where am I?”
“You’re at my house,” Shen Yuan tells him. “You suddenly collapsed, so I called my mom and had her drive to the university to take us here…” As he trails off, he presses the back of his hand to Binghe’s forehead. “Are you feeling alright? Your skin is hot and all red.”
“Many thanks to Shizun for his help,” Binghe gulps.
He reluctantly retracts his gaze from Shen Yuan, turning his head to scan his surroundings instead. The room is rather serene, the walls a pale cream and the furniture simple and light in color. Stacks of books pile on the bookshelf and framed posters line the walls. It’s obvious that Shen Yuan didn’t have a choice in the room’s décor, but he sure as hell added his own personal twist to what he could.
Even better, Shen Yuan’s scent clings heavily to everything surrounding Binghe. It takes him too long to realize that he’s lying on Shen Yuan’s bed. It feels almost too small compared to his massive size, but he’d still find the room to have both himself and Shen Yuan squeeze together.
Glancing back to Shen Yuan, Binghe notices the light sheen of sweat clinging to Shen Yuan’s forehead. He wants to lick it.
“You know, Binghe,” Shen Yuan starts, “although you’re skinny, you’re pretty heavy! I didn’t realize how muscular you were until I had to pick you up!” He gives a light laugh. “You’ll have to share your tips on how you got so big!”
Oh, Christ.
The urge to pull Shen Yuan down and kiss him silly is way too strong. Shen Yuan picked him up, carried him to his mom’s car, then did it all again to put him in his bed… Binghe could pass out again.
Binghe then yawns and curls in on himself, willing his expression to turn into something pretty. He can only imagine how he looks like this, hair splayed over the pillow, face flushed and prettier than any girl’s, body so welcoming…
“Shizun took such good care of me,” Binghe says, voice low.
Shen Yuan furiously nods his head. “Of course! Binghe’s safety is important! How is your head? Do you need me to test you for a concussion?”
“Not everyone is a wimp like you,” the girl’s voice from before pipes up.
Looking over to the doorway, Binghe is met with the sight of a young girl with delicate features and her dark hair pulled into pigtails. In her hands sits a tray of tea and snacks, courtesy of Shen Yuan’s mother. Her disinterested expression twists into a dazzling smile when her gaze lands on Binghe.
“I’m glad to see you’re awake!” she chirps. “Brother here is on the weaker side, so I thought he’d hit your head on something while carrying you up the stairs… It’d be a shame if you got hurt!”
Shen Yuan huffs. “Well, maybe if someone helped like I asked her to, you wouldn’t have such an issue, no?” He clears his throat, then, and gestures between her and Binghe. “Binghe, this is my younger sister, Yingying. Don’t mind the stupid things she says.”
“I do no such thing!” she shrieks. After she places the tray down, she crouches next to the bed, her pretty mouth pushed into a pout. “Brother Yuan is such a bully, A-Luo! I try to be such a good sister to him, but this is how he treats me!”
“Shi-… Shen Yuan isn’t a bully,” Binghe tells her, “He’s one of the nicest people I know.”
Yingying only furthers her pout. “If he’s so nice, then how come he only hangs out with greasers and hoods?” She motions to Binghe’s greased up pompadour. “It’s okay, A-Luo! I don’t think you’re a bad guy! Compared to Liu Qingge, you have a nicer face!”
Upon hearing that name, Binghe’s mouth curls into a sour scowl. Shen Yuan shoos his sister away, saying that Binghe is here for a reason, after all – not to be fawned over like he’s some rocker idol Yingying follows. Once she’s gone, Shen Yuan shuts the door closed and heaves a sigh.
“I’m… sorry… about that. Yingying isn’t this way with Liu Qingge or Shang Qinghua, so…” He shrugs, pushes his glasses up his nose. “Do you think you’re still able to study or should we skip the session for today?”
That’s right. Between getting kicked out of the library and passing out from excitement and disbelief, Binghe totally forgot about the tutoring session.
Binghe could deal with the lesson – he feels perfectly fine – but then there’s the chance of Shen Yuan doting over him…
“Shizun,” Binghe whines, his eyes turning wet and gooey. “My head hurts from the fall. I don’t think I’ll be able to learn properly.”
Shen Yuan visibly panics. Eyebrows pinching together, he worries his bottom lip; crossing over to the desk in the room, he picks up his paper-made fan and hastily fans himself with it.
“Does Binghe need medicine?” he asks. “A warm towel? Here, here, see if you can sit up and have some tea.” All the while, he’s scurrying to and fro in the room, socked feet padding against the hardwood floor. He helps Binghe slowly sit up in his bed, then quickly grabs one of the cups of tea. “Here – drink it slowly.” Clutching onto the back of Binghe’s neck, he helps the other take a sip of his beverage.
“This disciple thanks Shizun,” Binghe says lightly. “Could… could he ask Shizun to rub his neck? It feels awfully stiff from that fall.”
“Absolutely!” Shen Yuan exclaims. After setting the cup down, he worms his way behind Binghe, chest pressed in close to his back. “Let me know if it gets to be too much, okay?”
And then there he goes, fingers digging into the cording of muscle lining Binghe’s back. Thankfully, both his jacket and shoes were already off (did Shen Yuan strip him??), allowing Shen Yuan to have an easier time. It takes all of Binghe’s strength not to moan or pop a boner – he’s just so happy, and now that Shen Yuan is openly touching him…
Shen Yuan is pretty easy to manipulate, huh?
Again, the desire to kiss Shen Yuan breathless comes and grows, much like an insatiable beast. Binghe knows better, though; he knows Shen Yuan will grow into it, that he’ll be at a point where he’ll never want to be without Binghe again.
Binghe swears to himself at that very moment that he will make Shen Yuan his, and he’ll become the perfect little wife if need be…
He looks to Shen Yuan over his shoulder. “Thanking Shizun for everything.”
Shen Yuan’s face is flushed an adorable pink, yet his gaze is distant. “Anything for Binghe…”
Oh, Shizun, if only you knew what that entails.
As time continues to pass, Shen Yuan’s skills as a teacher – along with Luo Binghe’s grades – improve greatly. It’s almost ridiculous how intelligent Luo Binghe is, actually…
Whilst his grades aren’t hovering over the edge anymore, Binghe is still in the “danger zone,” as their professor Yue Qingyuan puts it. The main problem is Binghe’s inability to focus during lectures, thus leading him to skipping out on notes and falling behind once again. Shen Yuan constantly says it’s no big deal, as long as Binghe grows to understand the material and keeps on his schoolwork.
Binghe, his darling star pupil, can do no wrong.
Binghe continues to join Shen Yuan during his book club meetings under the pretense of tutoring afterwards (which they do, Liu Qingge, quit being a bitch about it), along with escorting Shen Yuan back to his house. Naturally, Liu Qingge refuses to give Binghe a ride, and Shen Yuan is too terrified of Mobei-jun, so they’ve settled for the happy medium of walking together.
And it’s weird, Shang Qinghua tells his friend, how the two are becoming nearly inseparable. Which, no, Liu Qingge quickly refutes, it’s because Luo Binghe won’t leave Shen Yuan alone.
Yingying, on the other hand, is thrilled that Binghe comes over so much. Little hearts fill her eyes the second he steps into a room, her face erupting in an attractive blush. It makes Shen Yuan sick.
It’s not like they’re friends. No, Shen Yuan is Binghe’s teacher only. The novels he reads often describe how a beloved disciple is close to their teacher, usually ready at their beck and call. Luo Binghe is ready to learn at any given moment, and it’s Shen Yuan’s responsibility to lead him in the right direction.
If they hang out together, what’s the problem? Binghe can’t learn if he’s not around a constant source of education!
Today is like any other day – Binghe, dressed in his usual jeans and tightly fitted shirt, sitting at the dining room table; Shen Yuan, wearing only loungewear, sits across from him. It’s the weekend, thankfully, so there’s no need for stuffy sweaters and pleated trousers. Shen Yuan would rather sit around in a t-shirt and his boxer shorts, but uh…. No can do.
Binghe diligently works at writing his notes – they’re still as gorgeous as ever! – as Shen Yuan creates his next teaching plan. Yingying sits next to Shen Yuan, chin placed in her hands as she gazes longingly at Binghe. At this point, it’s a regular occurrence, much to Shen Yuan’s distaste.
“A-Luo,” she says, “do you have a girlfriend by any chance?”
Shen Yuan gives her the side eye. “Mom said you can’t date older men.”
“Hah?” she snaps, sitting straight and directing a glare right back. “Only by a couple years! Once I’ve graduated and go to college myself, I can date all the guys I want!”
“Yingying, you’re 16,” Shen Yuan sighs.
“Better than your old butt!”
Luo Binghe laughs to himself. Gently setting the pencil down, he looks up at the two siblings, a glint in his doe eyes. “I’m actually not seeing anybody at the moment,” he says, voice smooth. “How about you, Shen Yuan?”
Shen Yuan’s face instantly lights up. After having Binghe refer to him as Shizun for so long, hearing him call him by his proper name feels too… intimate.
He hastily waves a dismissive hand. “That’s too personal of a question. This is a time of learning, not gossip.” How he managed to keep his cool and reply like a totally composed, intellectual teacher is beyond him. It’s becoming ingrained, he tells you!
Binghe’s way-too-pretty-for-a-human lips push themselves into a moue fit for the silver screen. His long lashes flutter enticingly. “But Shen Yuan, I want to know more about you.”
Oh, curses.
Yingying flashes a sly expression. “Didn’t A-Luo know? Brother Yuan is a virgin.”
“Yingying!” Shen Yuan screeches.
“What?” she shoots right back. “The girls at school talk about necking with their boyfriends all the time, and you’ve never came home with a girl in tow. You never talk about them, either! You’re hopeless!”
Shen Yuan’s eyes flicker back and forth between his sister and Binghe. It’s bad enough that Shang Qinghua exposed that little fact, but to get ratted on by his sister?! This is discrimination! An outrage! He wants a refund on his dignity!
“Cut the gas!” he squeaks. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Phone a girlfriend or something?”
“You’re just embarrassed that you can’t bag a beauty! When are you going to give Mom some grandkids?”
“I- You- You shut your trap!” Shen Yuan bellows. Shooting up from his chair, he takes off; he runs straight out the front door and down the street, his slippers slapping loudly against the concrete.
Talk about humiliating. Yingying has no right exposing him and making such a mockery out of him, especially in front of Luo Binghe! Oh, Binghe, what’s he going to think of his teacher now? As someone as cool and suave as him, there’s no doubt he’s a muff diver. How pathetic he must think Shen Yuan is!
“Shizun! Shizun!” a voice calls from afar.
Shen Yuan draws to a stop at the familiar voice. Turning around, he watches Binghe run up to him, expression alarmed. It’s only then that he realizes how hard he must’ve been running, for his chest heaves and his side aches. A sharp sting pangs in the back of his eyes as Binghe comes to a halt before him, his eyes scanning Shen Yuan’s face.
“Shizun,” Binghe says, voice so soft and sweet, “you ran out so fast that you forgot to put shoes on…”
Shen Yuan glances down at the slippers adorning his feet. Great, not only did he get humiliated, but he also looked stupid in his escape. Nice.
“Don’t mind what your sister said,” Binghe continues. “She’s just tryna get a rise out of you, that’s all.” Then, much to Shen Yuan’s surprise, he unexpectedly drops to a knee. “What she did wasn’t cool at all.”
“Binghe-“
Shen Yuan goes completely silent as Binghe takes a leg and sets his foot in his lap. From behind him, Binghe pulls out a loafer – turns out he brought them along with him and Shen Yuan didn’t even notice. He can only watch as Binghe slowly removes his slipper, body stiff in place.
Binghe’s gaze feels too heavy on his foot. He swears he hears Binghe’s breath hitch, but then decides that it’s only his imagination. He’s been running too long and without thought, and his heaving breathing has yet to cease. Hell, the hitch in breath was probably him.
He wriggles his toes and plants a hand on the top of Binghe’s head. The latter jumps, his eyes snapping upwards to meet Shen Yuan’s.
“Shizun,” Binghe breathes. A jolt shoots up Shen Yuan’s spine.
His face is feeling too hot again, so he hurriedly looks away. “Stop staring and do what you were going to do already,” he murmurs. “I’m only using your head for balance.”
Binghe’s head moves underneath his hand. Dropping his gaze, he slips the loafer onto Shen Yuan’s foot. He then does the other foot, though this time his hands are noticeably shaking. Binghe stands, then, an unreadable look on his face. He shrugs off his leather jacket and drapes it around Shen Yuan’s shoulders.
“This disciple doesn’t want Shizun to grow cold,” he says, voice strained. “Why don’t we get something to eat? That way Shizun won’t have to see his sister?”
Luo Binghe… You doll!
Shen Yuan could nearly weep. He takes back everything and anything relatively bad he’s ever said about Luo Binghe. This boy is heaven sent!
Feebly nodding his head, Shen Yuan falls into a daze as Binghe takes hold of his hand and drags him in the direction of the town’s diner. Granted, Shen Yuan has lithe hands and long fingers himself, but compared to Binghe’s, his hands are tiny. Binghe’s are calloused and warm, strong and protective – a true man’s hands.
The diner is already packed with a sea of college students by the time the two show up. Binghe parts through the crowd and clouds of smoke with ease, directing Shen Yuan towards a table in the back. Now that he’s surrounded by the clamoring of others, Shen Yuan snaps back to reality. The hairs raise on the back of his neck as he remembers that he’s wearing Luo Binghe’s jacket and holding his hand.
“Here, Shizun, take a seat,” Binghe says once they arrive to the table. He pulls out a chair and motions for Shen Yuan to sit before taking the one on the opposite side. “I’ll cover the cost, too, okay? Just enjoy yourself.”
Enjoy himself? Yeah, right.
As he scans the faces amongst the crowd, Shen Yuan spots two things: for one, Mobei-jun and Sha Hualing are here, as is Liu Qingge and Shang Qinghua. Things are just… not looking up, are they?
In a fit of panic, Shen Yuan hastily grabs the two menus lying on the table and props them up so that he can duck down, away from any prying eyes. Binghe cocks his head.
A waitress with graying hair saddles up to their table, a small notepad in hand. “What can I get you kids?”
Before Shen Yuan can say anything, Binghe beats him to the punch. “Two burgers and a chocolate milkshake, please.”
The waitress tweaks an eyebrow. “Just the one?”
Binghe sends her a charming smile. “Yes ma’am.”
Just a single milkshake?? Binghe, what are you doing????
“Uh, Binghe,” Shen Yuan starts, “we could have ordered more than one drink…”
“Cucumber-bro, you son of a bitch, you didn’t give me back that comic book I lent you!” Shang Qinghua’s voice rings from the side. So much for playing on the low-low.
Chairs screech against the checkered vinyl flooring as both Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge pull up beside Shen Yuan. Instantly, Liu Qingge narrows his eyes in a nasty glare at the jacket draped over Shen Yuan’s shoulders.
“Why the hell are you wearing that thing for?” he practically spits.
“If you have a problem with our jackets, say it to my face,” a new voice says.
And, as luck would have it, the voice belongs to Sha Hualing. Even with a snarl on her face, she’s still immensely beautiful; her bloody claws tap her hips, an expectant gleam in her eyes. It’s a miracle she hasn’t flipped the table yet. Mobei-jun stands silently by her side, his massive figure foreboding. Shang Qinghua shrinks in his seat.
“Hualing, don’t start any trouble,” Luo Binghe throws over his shoulder, his voice colder than Shen Yuan has ever heard it.
Sha Hualing merely huffs, but she doesn’t say another word. Both her and Mobei-jun then drag over their own chairs, joining Binghe on his side of the table. She knocks the menus down and twists a strand of hair around her finger.
“Luo Binghe, what makes you hang out with these guys, hmm?” she purrs, tongue rolling over Binghe’s name.
“Don’t like it? Too bad,” Liu Qingge snaps.
“Alright,” the waitress says as she comes back around, “two burgers and a chocolate milkshake.” She sets the food down and flashes a smile. “You kids enjoy.”
Shang Qinghua’s eyes go comically wide at the sight of the food. He turns his baffled expression towards Shen Yuan, his eyes clearly screaming What the hell?!
Shen Yuan clears his throat and wills his face to remain stoic. “Binghe offered me lunch, so I accepted.”
Plucking two straws from the dispenser on the table, Binghe rips the covers off and sticks them inside the milkshake. Mobei-jun quirks an eyebrow.
“I only have money for one,” Binghe explains, though his tone suggests something else. He casts a side eye to his fellow gang members. “I thought Shizun and I could enjoy our meal in peace.”
“Understood,” Mobei-jun says. He and Sha Hualing stand up, then, and give a simple bow before taking their leave.
Shen Yuan can’t believe his eyes. Are they part of a gang or are they Binghe’s servants?? What strange behavior!
Binghe’s eyes flicker to the other two offenders that remain. “Do you two mind? I doubt Shizun wants people breathing down his neck while he eats.”
Liu Qingge pulls a face. “Now listen here, you little punk-“
“Ice it,” Shang Qinghua says, grabbing hold of Liu Qingge’s shoulder. “Let’s just go, okay? We’ll catch you later, Cucumber-bro.” Forcing Liu Qingge to a stand, Shang Qinghua quickly salutes to Shen Yuan before dragging the other away.
And, just like that, Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe are finally alone.
Clearing his throat, Shen Yuan sends Binghe a look that’s both shy and grateful. “Thanks for that.” Picking up his burger, he sinks his teeth into it; his mood instantly brightens when the taste spreads across his tongue.
Binghe leans forward, his chin rested in his palms and elbows flat on the table. His eyelashes flutter dreamily. “Anything for Shizun. I didn’t want them ruining our date.”
Shen Yuan chokes.
Date? Date?! When did this turn into a date?!
It’s a simple meal between a teacher and his student! Something to relieve the stress and tension of the day!
Still, Shen Yuan shoots forward and takes a straw into his mouth, hoping that the thick beverage will ease his coughing fits. Binghe only smiles (adorably, too, curse him) and takes the other straw into his mouth as well.
Heat floods Shen Yuan’s face. Binghe is so close, their noses only centimeters apart…
Binghe pulls away with a soft ah! and licks his beautifully full lips. “It’s delicious, isn’t it, Shizun?” he coos. “I hope you don’t mind that this disciple only had enough money for the one… I just wanted to treat Shizun to something sweet to lift his spirits.”
Curse you, Luo Binghe!!! How dare you say something so considerate!!!
Binghe continues. “This disciple enjoys spending time with Shizun very much. Perhaps… Shizun would like to catch a movie at the drive ins next weekend?”
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan says with a sigh, “I can’t just…” He trails off when Binghe pulls out his puppy dog expression, his eyes glassier than usual. “I can’t just… let you go by yourself! A break every once in a while is good for the mind and spirit, yes, yes. Can’t have you frying your brains out!”
“Thanking Shizun!” Binghe chirps. “Does Saturday night sound okay?”
Shen Yuan swallows thickly. “Yeah. Saturday sounds great.”
Saturday night comes faster than anticipated.
Frankly, Shen Yuan doesn’t know why he’s so worked up, he just is.
Maybe it’s because he and Binghe are becoming friends? Which, no, that still feels weird to say. They hang out for educational purposes only. And, like Shen Yuan said, it’s good to relax the mind every once in a while to avoid burnout.
But still, Shen Yuan finds himself in front of the mirror, constantly smoothing his hair down and wiping his lenses over and over until they’re squeaky clean. His trousers are neat, sweater fresh, socks and underwear changed because he is not sitting in a car with Binghe and smelling like B.O.
As far as he’s concerned, does Binghe even have a car? Shen Yuan’s never seen it. Maybe he’s borrowing Mobei-jun’s? No, scratch that – Mobei-jun isn’t the type to lend his car out to anybody, even if that person is Luo Binghe.
The door rings at a time that is both right on time yet way too early. It’s gotta be Shen Yuan’s nerves. He’s not sweating. There’s no reason to sweat. Why is he sweating?
“Brother! That dreamboat A-Luo is here!” Yingying singsongs from downstairs. She’s so shameless.
Okay, and yeah, maybe Binghe looks good from the top of the stairs, dressed in his usual ensemble of dark jeans and a tight shirt that looks seconds away from splitting apart.
Luo Binghe’s eyes land on Shen Yuan immediately. “Shen Yuan,” he greets, voice silky, “you ready?”
Yingying bats her eyelashes at him. “A-Luo, we should go to the movies sometime! Brother Yuan can be a bit bland sometimes, and it’s always nice to make new friends.” She flashes a charming smile. “I’d love to go with you.”
“In your dreams,” Shen Yuan grumbles as he makes his way downstairs. Stepping into the doorway, he slips on his trusty pair of loafers and a gabardine. “I have dibs on Binghe tonight.” He then turns to his student/friend/whatever. Binghe, however, is flushed a bright red – something he wasn’t a few moments ago. “Binghe! Are you alright? Do you have a fever?” Shen Yuan rambles, hastily sticking the back of his hand to Binghe’s flushed forehead.
Binghe quickly shakes his head. “N-no… Just a sudden heat flash.” He clears his throat. “Shall we be going?” He offers an arm for Shen Yuan to take. “It’s dark out, so it’d be best not to lose each other,” Binghe explains.
Naturally, Shen Yuan buys this excuse.
His arm slips around Binghe’s easily, almost like they were meant to do this. Yingying mumbles her goodbyes, though not without glancing at their interlocked arms with a curious look.
The drive-in theater is, if not one of, Cang Qiong’s most popular spot(s). By the time Shen Yuan and Binghe pay for their tickets and walk onto the plot, rows upon rows of cars line the space. A mixture of rambunctious teens and college students hoot and holler at each other, whilst families sitting with their children remain in their cars. Popcorn already litters the ground, as does various candy bar wrappers and empty soda cans.
It's gonna be a lively night.
Previews and commercials play on the large screen at the end of the field. Shen Yuan is thankful; he’s not the type to wait patiently for a film, per se. Besides, commercials suck. Binghe casually nudges Shen Yuan and points to the screen.
“Shizun, you belong up there. You’d be incredible on film.”
And dammit, he says it so casually, so earnestly, it gives Shen Yuan a toothache.
Binghe offers to buy drinks, snacks, the whole shebang. Shen Yuan doesn’t want him to be the sole buyer here – the notion goes politely declined, by the way – and they eventually make way towards the chain link fence away from the cars, yet close enough to hear the various speakers spotted across the plot.
It should feel weird, really, how Binghe guides Shen Yuan in the proper direction with a hand on his lower back. Even through his gabardine he can feel the heat radiating from Binghe’s palm. Dare he say it, but it’s comforting. Shen Yuan feels safe, secure.
“Shizun likes movies, right?” Binghe chirps, expression reminiscent of an excited pooch. “This disciple always notices the posters in your room when we study.”
“Good eye, Binghe. The fictional aspects of life are better than the real ones,” Shen Yuan says with a nod.
Binghe cocks his head. “How’s that, Shizun?”
“Real life is boring. With books, anything can happen, you know? I get to escape the real world and its problems for a while and focus on what’s happening then and there. Besides, isn’t it really cool that people create entire universes with their own imagination?”
“Shang Qinghua is writing his novel. Does Shizun… like his works?” Binghe asks, though his tone turns light.
Shen Yuan doesn’t pick up on the change of tone. “Are you kidding me? His writing is full of plot holes, and he tends to spend too much time detailing unimportant things! I should be getting paid to read such garbage! Shang Qinghua, damn him!!”
At that moment, the two of them walk by a car – a way too familiar car. A classic hot rod, sleek and with a shapely body that’s painted pitch black, but it’s the insanely detailed ice cracks painted onto it that makes it stand out. Shen Yuan could recognize that car anywhere. It’s Mobei-jun’s car.
And it’s rocking.
Okay, maybe Shen Yuan is too curious for his own good, or maybe he’s just too damn nosy, for he peeks over the side and nearly drops the soda and popcorn in his hands.
Shang Qinghua lays flat on the backseat with Mobei-jun on top of him; his arms are wrapped around Mobei-jun’s neck, fingernails digging lightly into his back while the two furiously make out. Heat floods Shen Yuan’s face when he notices Mobei-jun’s knee tucked between Shang Qinghua’s legs.
“Shang Qinghua?!” Shen Yuan splutters.
Immediately, Shang Qinghua’s eyes snap open and he pushes Mobei-jun away. Scrambling to sit up, he looks to Shen Yuan with a petrified face. He hurries to fix his shirt, but his swollen lips and ruffled hair give it all away.
“Cucumber-bro, hi!” Shang Qinghua greets awkwardly, his voice cracking. He hastily clears his throat and forces his expression into something cool and unbothered. “How… how are you?”
Shen Yuan blinks rapidly. “You’re playing backseat bingo with Mobei-jun?! What the hell has gotten into you?!”
“Wait, wait, Cucumber-bro, it’s not what it looks like-“
“We’re dating,” Mobei-jun cuts him off. Shang Qinghua flinches.
Shen Yuan is literally seconds away from passing out. “You’re dating?! How come you haven’t said anything, you ass?!”
“Because I didn’t know what you were going to say!” Shang Qinghua cries out. “How was I supposed to know if you were going to accept it or not? I can’t just go around telling everyone that I like guys!”
“What about your continuous dawdling about sirens in your writing?”
“Women are hot too!” Shang Qinghua huffs. Reaching out, he clutches onto the hem of Shen Yuan’s gabardine. “Please, Cucumber-bro, you cannot tell anyone! I’ll make it up to you! I’ll pay you! Just, please, please, please don’t let anyone know!”
This is too much. Shang Qinghua, his best friend, into men… Into Mobei-jun, specifically!
Shen Yuan licks his lips. “I… We’ll talk about this later, alright? I just need a moment to process everything…”
Binghe finally steps in. “Sorry about that, you two. We’ll keep our lips sealed.” He winks at Mobei-jun. “Tell me more about this later, you sly dog.”
Mobei-jun mutters something under his breath, but neither Shen Yuan nor Binghe hear it. Again, Binghe places his hand on the small of Shen Yuan’s back and directs him away.
Once they’re at a faraway enough distance, Binghe shrugs off his jacket and places it on the grass; he motions for Shen Yuan to take a seat, his eyes glittering. Shen Yuan numbly nods his head and settles down onto Binghe’s jacket, only to have Binghe plop right down next to him. They’re closer than what would be appropriate for two friends, but Shen Yuan is too distracted to think about it properly.
The beginning credits of the movie sprawl themselves across the scene, accompanying the opening sequence. Shen Yuan merely stares vacantly at the screen.
“I can’t believe it,” Shen Yuan whispers. “Shang Qinghua has been dating Mobei-jun this entire time…”
“Does Shizun have an issue with it?” Binghe questions. Normally, if it were anybody else, the question would sound accusatory, but not with Binghe. Never with Binghe.
Shen Yuan finds himself shaking his head. “No. It’s just… His relationship with Mobei-jun never hinted at that kind of thing, you know? I always thought Mobei-jun hated his guts.”
“Not all relationships are as they seem,” Binghe says softly. “Some people care about others in a way that can be hard to explain.”
Shen Yuan scoffs. “Not by bullying.”
Binghe’s breathing is hot against the side of his face. “Maybe he wants his true feelings to be shown but knows that others won’t accept them. It’s not easy liking someone of the same sex in this day and age.”
Eyebrows crinkling, Shen Yuan turns to Binghe. He jolts in place when he realizes how close the latter is. Swallowing thickly, he glances back and forth between Binghe’s eyes. “Binghe… What do you mean?”
“Shizun, if it were this disciple and Shang Qinghua in that situation, how would you react?”
How would he react? Actually… how would he react?
Shen Yuan falls silent as he thinks about it. His mind conjures up the image of Binghe on top of Shang Qinghua, knee between his thighs and lips pressed against his throat…
Unease settles in his chest. He doesn’t like that thought. At all.
“I... I wouldn’t like it,” Shen Yuan says, his voice now just as quiet as Binghe’s.
There’s an unknown gleam in Binghe’s eyes. “Is it because two guys are kissing or because it’s one of us?”
Binghe, you… You really know how to corner someone. Shen Yuan doesn’t want to think of his beloved student in such a way, least of all with Shang Qinghua. Binghe should share intimate moments with someone he trusts. It’s only fair that his partner should be someone who truly cares about him and his wellbeing, after all.
Binghe smiles, his pearly whites on full display, and it’s only then that Shen Yuan realizes he said his thoughts out loud. “This disciple really, really… trusts Shizun.” He pauses for a brief moment. “Does Shizun truly care about me?”
Shen Yuan’s brain completely short circuits. “Of course I do,” his mouth automatically says. A large, warm hand cups the side of his face.
“Will Shizun permit me to kiss him?”
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan murmurs, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“Please, allow me…”
Binghe’s words trail off as his lips capture Shen Yuan’s. The kiss is slow, tentative, like Shen Yuan will shatter at any moment. And Binghe is just so warm, his body leaning in even closer, the scent of his cologne filling Shen Yuan’s nostrils. Shen Yuan remains stiff as he lightly presses back; his heartbeat thunders in his ears, loud enough that it’d be a miracle if Binghe didn’t hear it himself.
It feels as though hours have passed by the time Binghe pulls away. His pretty face is dusted with pink, and his bedazzling eyes are heavy lidded. “Was that okay?”
Yeah. Yeah. It was more than okay.
“Can Binghe do it again?” Shen Yuan whispers.
Nothing needs to be said. Binghe kisses him again, although this time he leans his head to the side. It doesn’t take very long for his tongue to sweep across the seam of Shen Yuan’s lips; Shen Yuan lets his mouth part a small sliver, but it’s enough for Binghe’s tongue to snake its way inside.
He tastes like cola. It’s a weird sensation, the heat and moisture of their mouths mixing together, but Shen Yuan likes it. He likes the way Binghe holds him close, how safe and small he feels. Binghe’s tongue maps out the inside of his mouth, swirls around the other one. A tiny whimper sounds in the back of Shen Yuan’s throat when Binghe suckles on his tongue.
“Shizun,” Binghe murmurs, voice desperate.
“Hey, check out the fucking faggots!”
Shen Yuan’s heart leaps to his throat – this time for not a good reason – as he swivels his head around. On the other side of the chain link fence, a small group of teenage boys quickly gather at where the other two sit. They’re most likely students from the local high school if their class rings and letterman jackets have anything to say. The one up front – most likely the leader and the one who talked – sneers.
“Don’t you fags have anywhere else to go? Fucking gross,” the guy says.
Perspiration gathers at Shen Yuan’s hairline.
A hand gently pushes him behind Binghe’s hulking form. “Stay behind me, Shizun,” Binghe mutters. His voice is still low, though instead of holding that desperate rasp, his words come out closer to a growl.
The leader continues. “There are kids around! Or do you two faggots plan on going after them too?” Turning to his little posse, he jerks his head at Shen Yuan and Binghe. “I say we give these guys a lesson, eh?”
There’s a collective round of snickers and the cracking of knuckles. White teeth gleam through the night, hungry and monstrous. All Shen Yuan can think about is how the devils have come to collect their due.
Binghe brings himself to a stand and wipes down his jeans. “I don’t like being interrupted,” he says. “Actually, I despise it.” He cocks his head, his long ponytail swaying with the movement. “Apologize to Shen Yuan.”
One of the teenagers scoffs. “Apologize? You two should be the ones apologizing for making us see that!”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Binghe whispers. Rolling his shoulders back, he takes a single deep breath before disappearing in a blur. He scrambles up and over the fence with ease and lands in front of the group before anyone can properly blink. And yeah, Luo Binghe is tall, but towering over these guys like that… Shen Yuan is reminded just how tall Binghe is, how broad his shoulders are.
“What the hell?!” some guy squawks. “Get him!”
It should be considered lucky that the speakers are playing the movie at full blast, that this is all happening away from the crowd of moviegoers. Shen Yuan can only watch as the first fist flies out; Binghe catches it with ease, twists the guy’s arm. There’s yelling, swearing, and the blur of colored letterman jackets as the teenagers swarm onto Binghe.
It takes Shen Yuan too long to finally process what’s happening. Scrambling over to the fence, he hooks his fingers around the links and watches on with wide eyes. Despite his large build, Binghe moves fast. It’s borderline terrifying.
Is he… is he not getting hurt?? Does Luo Binghe have a protective halo hovering above his head, hidden from sight??
“Binghe, be careful!” Shen Yuan calls out, voice cracking halfway through.
Bad decision – Binghe looks his way for a split second, but it’s long enough to have a ringed fist collide with his face. Shen Yuan cries out in alarm, the chain links clanking as he clutches onto them harder.
“Ain’t so tough now, are ya?” the teenager leers. One moment he’s laughing, the next he’s on the ground, seemingly knocked out cold.
Pulling away, Binghe reaches into his back pocket and whips out a knife; as it flicks open, its pitch-black blade reveals itself. Shen Yuan pauses. Even though he’s not on the other side of that blade, he can’t stop the shudder that wracks his body. The other guys instantly back away, their eyes glued to the blade.
“I really don’t want to use this,” Binghe says, voice flat. Hell, he even sounds bored. He clicks his tongue. “However, if you choose to continue to harass Shen Yuan, then I have no choice.”
His fingers spin the knife in his hand and his body shoots off again. This time, though, Shen Yuan can see with perfect clarity the arc of Binghe’s arm coming down towards the closest teen. Everything moves in slow motion, too slow, come on, he’s gonna kill them-
“Stop it, Binghe!” Shen Yuan yells.
Binghe’s arm stops in midair. The group of teenagers blink rapidly, their gazes switching between the knife and Shen Yuan.
“Look at me,” Binghe mutters.
The group obediently does as told. Shen Yuan can’t see Binghe’s expression from where he stands, but the pure horror is reflected on the others’.
“Get out of here and never talk to Shen Yuan again,” Binghe continues, words slow and methodical. “If I catch any of you harassing someone ever again, I will end you.” He then drops his arm and shoos them away. The teens collect their unconscious friend and scurry off, their tails tucked between their legs.
With another sigh, Binghe slips the knife back into his pocket and smooths his hands over his hair before turning back to Shen Yuan. His face instantly lights up, the corners of his mouth curling into a sheepish grin. “Is Shizun alright?”
Shen Yuan can’t help but gawk at him as Binghe slings himself back over the fence. “Binghe, you…” He immediately stops when he sees the line of red on Binghe’s cheek. “You’re bleeding!” Hastily fishing out the handkerchief in his pocket, he presses it against the cut. “It must’ve been from that guy’s rings… Oh, Binghe! That was so scary! I thought you were going to get hurt!”
Funny how he says that though Binghe literally just tried to stab someone, but it’s whatever.
Tears well up in Binghe’s large eyes, and his bottom lip begins to tremble. “Shizun! I’m sorry!” he cries. “I’m not like that usually! I didn’t want you to get hurt!”
This guy… really is something.
Still, Shen Yuan wraps his arms around Binghe. “Shh, shh, there, there, I’m here and I’m okay. You saved me, Binghe. You scared away all those bad guys.”
Binghe nuzzles into the crook of Shen Yuan’s neck. “Does Shizun think that this disciple deserves a reward?”
“Will that make Binghe feel better?” Shen Yuan receives a hum into his neck for an answer. He sighs. “Alright, fine. What would Binghe like?”
Drawing away, Binghe flashes Shen Yuan his (totally irresistible) puppy eyes. “May this disciple have another kiss?” His face scrunches up when Shen Yuan flicks his nose.
“What am I to do with you, Binghe? I can’t get a read on you sometimes.”
Binghe pouts. “Does Shizun not believe me?”
“No, you dummy. Just promise me you won’t go picking fights, okay? And no knives!”
“Yes, Shizun…”
Shen Yuan pats the top of Binghe’s head. “Good boy.” He pauses, licks his lips. He can feel his face getting warm again. “…And I guess I can comply to your request for your reward.”
“Thanking Shizun!” Binghe chirps, right before meeting Shen Yuan’s lips with his own.
Shen Yuan… has made another mistake.
Once again, Luo Binghe has somehow roped him into doing something deemed inappropriate between a teacher and his student: “bonding time,” as Binghe liked to call it.
Ever since their… little incident at the drive ins, Shen Yuan’s mind (and heart) has been a complete mess. His chest holds a constant airy flutter, his heart loaded with an unknown joy he has never experienced before. It’s bad enough to the point that both Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge have made comments about it. Naturally, Liu Qingge was more miffed than anything. Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, has no goddamn right to say anything. So.
The studying sessions have also been more complicated than usual. Whenever Binghe steps into the room, Shen Yuan’s heart goes into overdrive. It’s rather silly, really, to have such… palpitations over seeing his beloved student. He’s always been happy to see Binghe! Binghe is so precious! His perfect little lamb!
Needless to say, it shouldn’t come as much of a surprise when Binghe asked (begged) Shen Yuan to accompany him for the day. Binghe deserves a reward every now and again! And yes, even if that entails Luo Binghe rolling up to Shen Yuan’s doorstep and escorting him to his mother’s car! (Behold, Binghe can drive! Who knew?)
The drive ended up bringing the two of them to the next town over – the amusement park, specifically. Flashing colors and crackling music greets them as they step through the park’s gates, bright red stamps placed on the backs of their hands. A sea of people crowds the place, the ringing of children’s laughter and consistent chatter blending with the park’s music.
Immediately, Shen Yuan steps back, his eyes widening in panic. A warm hand encloses his own, and Binghe’s glittering eyes fill his vision.
“Shizun, it’s alright. I’m here, see?” he says, a giggle following his words. He brings their hands up for Shen Yuan to see.
Heat rushes to Shen Yuan’s face. “Binghe! You can’t just say something like that!”
Binghe’s smile turns into a pout. “Does Shizun not want to hold my hand?”
“I didn’t say that!” Shen Yuan screeches.
His complaint falls on deaf ears. Binghe then drags him through the crowd, his ponytail bouncing behind him. His entire body screams with excitement, his face flushed and eyes wide and bright. It’s ridiculous how they reflect the lights beaming from the surrounding attractions or how his grin rivals those of the kids around them.
Absolutely ridiculous.
…And cute.
“Shizun, what do you want to ride first?” Binghe asks over his shoulder.
You, Shen Yuan initially thinks, but then shame creeps up his face and he hastily shakes his head. He awkwardly clears his throat, wondering why the hell he just thought of such a vile thing. He means Binghe’s shoulders, dammit! The man is so large and broad that he could be an attraction himself!
“That one,” Shen Yuan says, randomly pointing at the first ride he spots.
Which, oops, horrible idea because the very ride he pointed at is a drop tower. In large, blood-red letters, the sign alongside the ride says “Maigu Ridge: The Fatal Fall.” And yeah, Shen Yuan totally feels a shiver going down his spine, but it’s whatever.
Binghe’s head cranes backwards as he gazes up at the tower. “This disciple never expected Shizun to be a thrill seeker.” Dropping his head, he looks to Shen Yuan. “Shizun has great taste!”
Curses.
Dread plagues Shen Yuan’s insides. He feebly lets Binghe pull him along to the line; the dread only continues to grow and spread throughout his body as the line shortens and they make their way closer to the front. Soon, it’s their turn to climb onto the bench and let the attendant properly strap them in.
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan croaks, “this was a bad idea.”
Binghe comfortingly squeezes his hand. “Just focus on me, Shizun.”
“Binghe…”
Shen Yuan doesn’t get much of a chance to say anything else; the seats of the tower unexpectedly shoot up, leaving Shen Yuan’s soul stuck to the earth and his feet dangling midair. His hand clamps around Binghe’s in an iron clench as the seats come to a stop and hover in place.
“I am not a thrill seeker!” Shen Yuan wheezes. “I wanna live!”
A blood-curdling scream escapes his mouth (amongst others) as the seats drop. Air whistles through his ears, both his hair and shirt ruffling with the passing wind. Squeezing his eyes tight, he focuses on the never-ending warmth of Binghe’s hand.
Binghe, on the other hand, keeps his attention fixated solely on Shen Yuan. Even when he’s yelling his heart out, face scrunched with fear, he’s stunning.
Afterwards, the trembling of Shen Yuan’s legs refuses to part ways for a while. The two visit ride after ride (much to Shen Yuan’s chagrin, but the smile on Binghe’s face makes up for it) before hey, their stomachs collectively growl. The saying is, “when in Rome, do as the Romans do;” hence, amongst the numerous kiosks and games, they settle for a corn dog stand.
The food tastes heavenly on the tongue and even better when in the stomach. Binghe, sweet, sweet Binghe, offered to pay for the food once more. Shen Yuan can’t shake the thought that Binghe is spoiling him on purpose, but, well, free food is free food.
Shen Yuan should’ve known better, he really should’ve. But, as by pure luck (more like Binghe’s sneakiness and Shen Yuan’s general lack of attention) Binghe eats his corn dog in a rather… particular matter. Perhaps he’s been spending too much time with Shang Qinghua, that filthy pervert. Shen Yuan can only stare as Binghe shoves the entire corn dog into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the popsicle stick at the end. And, as if to make things worse for Shen Yuan’s pathetic little mind, Binghe promptly tucks loose strands of his curly hair behind his ear.
He hums as the popsicle stick emerges from his mouth, now completely clean. His cheeks puff up as he chews on his treat, his doe eyes glimmering as he stares down Shen Yuan. Hastily turning away, Shen Yuan wills the unwarranted heat in his lower gut to dissipate, along with his shameful blush. Really, he is spending too much time with Shang Qinghua. It’s disgraceful.
“Shizun, look over there!” Binghe exclaims, carrying on like he just didn’t give Shen Yuan a chub. “A claw machine! Is there anything Shizun would like?”
Clearing his throat, Shen Yuan glances at the claw machine and then back to Binghe. “Surprise me.”
With a nod, Binghe scurries over to the claw machine and slips a coin into the slot. It doesn’t come as a surprise to see that Binghe is a master with the claw; like anything else he does, he masters it right away, his skills never failing to impress. His face splits into a smile as he fishes out his prize: a cat plushie with dark hair, teal robes, a grumpy face, and a miniature fan in paw. It’s ridiculously adorable, almost to the point of being completely absurd.
“This one looks like Shizun!”
Shen Yuan sputters. “Why- You- It doesn’t look like me! Binghe!”
“Of course it does! It’s so cute, and it matches Shizun’s expression!” He cocks his head, the smile still displayed on his handsome face. “You have the tendency to scrunch your face or scowl when you’re focused. Besides, Shizun would look great in traditional garb!”
Dear lord, when can Shen Yuan’s poor face catch a break?! It feels as though he’ll cause a wildfire at this rate!
Binghe hands the cat plushie to Shen Yuan, who takes it with tentative hands. The plushie itself is rather well made, its fur soft and the robes satiny. It’s squishy to the touch and the weight implies it’s well stuffed. Shit, it really is adorable.
“Shizun this, Shizun that,” Shen Yuan grumbles. “Binghe, haven’t you ever thought that you would look great in traditional clothing? You would fill it out nicely.”
.
.
.
Wait.
Wait.
Binghe’s eyes glaze over, and his hands hurriedly cup his mouth. He… really looks like a high school girl meeting her celebrity crush.
“Don’t overthink it!” Shen Yuan yelps, his face burning hotter than ever. “I was just saying something silly! Binghe! Binghe!”
Too late – Binghe’s thick arms are already around him, pulling him in close. Like this, Shen Yuan’s face is squished against Binghe’s neck, his heady cologne flooding his senses. It reminds Shen Yuan too much about the kiss they shared at the drive in.
The weight of numerous stares bore into his back, causing Shen Yuan to squirm. “Binghe, we’re in public!” Shen Yuan desperately says. “People are looking at us weird!”
“Let them look,” Binghe mutters. “I want everyone know who Shizun belongs to.”
Oh. That shouldn’t make Shen Yuan’s insides squeeze the way they do.
Shen Yuan clears his throat. “Binghe,” he tries again, this time his voice more level, “if we keep standing here like this, how are you going to win me more prizes?” It’s a rather pathetic attempt to make Binghe pull away, but it seems to do the trick.
“Anything for Shizun!” Binghe exclaims. “This disciple will win everything Shizun’s heart desires!”
And so, the rest of the date day entails of Binghe scurrying from kiosk to kiosk, winning Shizun practically every prize in sight. Bags of popcorn? You got it. A goldfish? Not really Shen Yuan’s cup of tea, but it sure is for the kid next to him (he ended up giving it away, much to Binghe’s chagrin). A booklet named The Regret of Chunshan? …A weird choice, and Shen Yuan thinks he recognizes the girl vendor’s voice, but the face mask she wears obstructs her face.
The two finally make their way back to the car once the sun sits on the horizon. The sky is an endless sea of brilliant hues, made up of oranges, pinks, and yellows. Shen Yuan has the sudden urge to paint the sight, yet he’s knocked from his thoughts when Binghe bumps his shoulder into his.
“Does Shizun enjoy watching the sunset?”
Shen Yuan hums his reply. “Doesn’t Binghe?”
“I’d rather watch Shizun.”
Naturally, Shen Yuan nearly trips over his own feet.
Binghe, being the gentleman he is, opens the car door for Shen Yuan and closes it after he slips inside. Turning the corner, Binghe follows suit and slides into the driver’s side, yet he doesn’t slip the key in the ignition yet. Instead, they gaze at the sunset, a comfortable silence falling over them.
“Thanking Shizun for today,” Binghe says, voice quiet. His lips pull back in a small smile. “I had a lot of fun.” He looks to Shen Yuan. “Did… Shizun have fun?”
Pinching the cat plushie’s cheeks, Shen Yuan huffs. “I still can’t believe you think I look like this thing…” He glances back at Binghe. “I did, Binghe. Thank you.”
Binghe then giggles, his chin tucking down towards his chest. “Shizun… Do you think we could kiss again?”
Immediately, a bright red blooms across Shen Yuan’s features. Despite the initial reaction, kissing Binghe doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Slowly, he nods; Binghe’s large hand caresses the side of his face, turning it gently in his direction. Up close like this, Shen Yuan can truly appreciate Binghe’s visage. The full lips, the doe eyes, thick, long eyelashes, smooth skin… He’s nothing short of perfection.
Binghe’s lips are warm when they capture his own. Things start off slow, gentle. Binghe cups Shen Yuan’s face like he’s crafted of fine porcelain, absolutely priceless and deserving of a tender touch. And yeah, it is nice, but Shen Yuan thinks he’s been spoiled. Despite the lack of experience, he recalls the raw passion Binghe exerted in their last kiss, how he clutched onto him and ravaged the inside of his mouth with his tongue. It was so messy, so wet, yet Shen Yuan craves it again. Jesus, he’s really turned into some fiend, hasn’t he?
It comes as a shock to the both of them when Shen Yuan presses his lips harder, hands abandoning the plushie in his lap as he opts for Binghe’s jacket. His head feels fuzzy. Everything is too hot. Control is about to slip from his grasp, yet Shen Yuan wills himself to remain steady as he clutches onto Binghe. His tongue licks the seam of Binghe’s lips, and oh, Binghe obediently opens up, his tongue greeting Shen Yuan’s with nothing short of enthusiasm.
Soon, the car fills with the sound of heavy breathing and wet noises. Shen Yuan’s desperate with his touches, his hands roaming down Binghe’s chest and appreciating the taught muscle hidden by that thin layer of fabric. Binghe’s hands aren’t any better; one grasps Shen Yuan by the chin, the other gripping his hair on the back of his head. It’s so good, so dirty, and Shen Yuan only wants more.
His cock stirs in his trousers. He has half the mind to grind the heel of his palm against it, yet he can’t quite find it in himself to let go of Binghe. He’s just so warm, his body solid. Shen Yuan wants to know what he truly looks like underneath those tight shirts he always wears.
“Shizun,” Binghe murmurs, his lips pulling just a hair back. “This disciple wants to do something. Another gift for Shizun, if he allows it.”
Shen Yuan wants to continue kissing Binghe so bad it hurts. Still, he can’t allow himself to disregard his beloved student’s request. “What is it, Binghe?”
Binghe’s pupils are completely blown out when he pulls away. His hands drop to Shen Yuan’s thighs, his fingertips just barely brushing against his erection. “May this disciple touch Shizun?”
They’re really going to do this, aren’t they? Any other time, Shen Yuan would shy away, but right now… Right now he wants it. He wants Binghe’s touch so bad.
Before he fully realizes it, Shen Yuan is nodding his head. Binghe cracks the tiniest grin for a split second before his hands undo Shen Yuan’s trousers. He watches on with bated breath, mind turning blank as Binghe frees his cock of his underwear. It kicks under Binghe’s heavy gaze; Binghe moans at the sight, the sound deep and guttural. It shoots straight down to Shen Yuan’s dick.
“Shizun, you’re so pretty,” Binghe hums. A quick glimpse at his face tells Shen Yuan that Binghe is drooling.
Shen Yuan has to bite back a curse when Binghe wraps his hand around his aching cock. This is the first time he’s ever been touched down there by someone else, and his entire body convulses. The callouses lining Binghe’s hand are rough, yet the sensation they provide is something Shen Yuan doesn’t entirely mind.
The movements are slow at first; Binghe watches on, completely entranced when the head disappears and reappears through his fist. Both Shen Yuan’s thighs and core are tensed, his chest heaving. As more precum beads from the tip, the easier the slide becomes. Eventually, Binghe’s fist moves at a faster pace, his stare never leaving from Shen Yuan’s cock. The schlick, schlick, schlick fills the car’s atmosphere, mixes with Shen Yuan’s ragged breaths and muttered curses.
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan murmurs, “fuck, that feels so good…”
The simple praise seems to flick a switch inside of Binghe. One moment, it’s his fist caressing his cockhead; the next, he’s ducking down over Shen Yuan’s lap, his tongue gliding over his slit. Shen Yuan’s hips jerk at the wet feeling, a moan slipping from his mouth. All he wants to do is crane his head back against the seat and shut his eyes, but the sight of Luo Binghe going down on him is something he must ingrain into his mind.
And oh, there Binghe goes, replicating what he did on that goddamned corndog from earlier. He sinks down onto Shen Yuan’s cock with ease, his lips wrapping lewdly around his shaft. A wet warmth surrounds his cock – it’s different from what Shen Yuan has ever felt, but fuck he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
Binghe’s tongue lavishes his cock, licking fat stripes against the flushed skin. Slowly pulling up, he hollows out his cheeks, his tongue swirling around the head and dipping into the slit. Instinctively, Shen Yuan slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle his moans while the other lands in Binghe’s hair. Binghe slips back down his cock, the head brushing against the back of his throat. He falls into a steady rhythm, his head bobbing to a silent beat. It’s so fucking wet, holy shit, Shen Yuan’s going to lose his mind-
His fingers clench onto the strands of Binghe’s hair when the latter purposely gags on his cock. The vibrations from Binghe’s moan shoot straight up Shen Yuan’s cock, settles in his lower stomach. He does it again, relishing in Binghe’s low groans and the desperate licks that follow. Shen Yuan tugs Binghe’s hair loose from its ponytail, his fingers raking through the curling strands before settling back at the scalp and yanking.
Turning his head slightly, Binghe gazes up at Shen Yuan, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks. Shen Yuan can practically see little hearts in his doe eyes. His face is so pink, his lips red and covered in spittle; they’re stretched wide around the cock in his mouth, and fuck Shen Yuan has to clench his insides to keep from cumming.
“So good for me, Binghe,” Shen Yuan praises, a hand caressing Binghe’s cheek. “It feels – ah – so good…”
Groaning once more, Binghe slips his eyes shut and swallows down Shen Yuan’s cock. He tucks his hair behind his ear, looking absolutely fucking stunning as he does, and it takes one last gag for Shen Yuan to cry out as he shoots his load down Binghe’s throat.
Binghe moans, louder than ever before, and he greedily laps at Shen Yuan’s cock, slurping down his reward and looking for possibly another.
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan gasps, “wait.”
Binghe then pulls away, a string of spit and cum sticking between his bottom lip and the tip of Shen Yuan’s cock. The wet pop he makes causes Shen Yuan’s cock to twitch.
“Thanking Shizun,” Binghe says, his voice now rough. His fucked-out expression seems like he was the one who just received head, not the other way around.
“I can’t believe you swallowed,” Shen Yuan tells him. “I’m so sorry, Binghe! I should’ve said something but it came so fast-“
“Don’t be,” Binghe interrupts. “I liked it.”
Glancing down, Shen Yuan finally notices the large bulge at the front of Binghe’s jeans. He gulps. “I… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Let’s take care of you too, okay?”
Before Binghe can have the chance to argue, Shen Yuan shyly undoes his jeans.
Oh.
Binghe’s gone commando.
And he’s big.
Jesus fucking Christ, he’s huge.
Binghe covers his face, mostly due to embarrassment, but Shen Yuan can’t help but stare. This… thing… is a freaking monster! No way that’s humanly possible! It’s easily got to be the same size as his forearm! How the hell can Binghe even move with that third leg?!
“Oh, dear… Binghe… Doesn’t that hurt?”
Besides… Did it get that swollen and purple from merely sucking Shen Yuan off?
Still, Shen Yuan clears his throat and braces himself. He wraps his hand around it – and no, his fingers cannot meet – and watches as a fat drop of precum beads at the tip and rolls down the side. It’s so heavy in his hand, smooth to the touch yet incredibly hard. The fat vein on the underside pulses against his palm.
Binghe bucks his hips into Shen Yuan’s fist, a whimper breaking past his lips. Hiding his face in the crook of Shen Yuan’s neck, he continues to hump into the grasp, his cock twitching madly. Shen Yuan decides to add his other hand, both fists making an iron grasp for Binghe to fuck as he pleases. His cock drools with precum, leaves Shen Yuan’s hands a sticky mess, yet Shen Yuan finds himself liking it regardless.
“Shizun, Shizun, Shizun,” Binghe mutters in a mantra.
“That’s it, Binghe, just like that,” Shen Yuan purrs. Now that he isn’t on the receiving end, he can feel his wits coming back to him. His beloved pupil (can he even refer to Binghe as that now?) needs his proper guidance, and he’ll do what he needs to do. “Keep thrusting your hips like that. You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Binghe? I can’t even wrap my hands around it.”
Binghe chokes on another Shizun as he abruptly cums; thick ropes of white shoot from the head, cover Shen Yuan’s hands and splash on the rough fabric of his jeans. There’s just so much, and Shen Yuan honestly can’t tell if he’s impressed or startled.
Binghe’s cock, however, remains hard.
“Please, Shizun, again,” Binghe whimpers. Whimpers. Jesus Christ, Shen Yuan doesn’t think he’ll ever get over that. “This disciple will do whatever Shizun asks. Please, sir, again!”
Shen Yuan’s cock twitches as it slowly comes back to life at the sight of tears streaming down Binghe’s face. He’s just so… cute. So submissive, so breedable.
…He really is fucked, isn’t he?
“Luo Binghe, your grades have improved dramatically! I’m impressed!” Yue Qingyuan gushes at the end of his class.
Now that the end of the semester looms overhead, just mere days away, Binghe’s grades have finally reached a point where he can pass. Shen Yuan nudges his shoulder and sends him a toothy grin.
Binghe smiles back at him before turning his attention to their professor. “Thank you, sir. I couldn’t have done it without Shen Yuan’s help.”
Yue Qingyuan nods enthusiastically. Reaching out, he pats both boys on the shoulders. “You two truly outdid yourselves. Shen Yuan, you’ll make an excellent teacher yet. Perhaps someday, I’ll be able to call you a coworker.”
Shen Yuan bows his head politely. “You flatter me, sir.”
After a few more moments of chatting, Shen Yuan and Binghe say their goodbyes and leave the classroom. As they slink down the hallway, Binghe’s hand finds Shen Yuan’s, his fingers lacing through the latter’s.
“Shizun truly is a force to be reckoned with,” Binghe hums.
Shen Yuan squeezes his hand. “Binghe is smarter beyond words. I’m proud.”
Further down the hall, Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge, Mobei-jun, and Sha Hualing talk amongst themselves. Naturally, Liu Qingge keeps his distance somewhat, but Shang Qinghua practically leans into Mobei-jun. He looks ridiculously small compared to the other, but the happiness shining in his eyes is clear as day. Sha Hualing looks more-or-less unamused by the whole thing.
“Hey guys,” Shen Yuan greets as he and Binghe draw in closer, “do you wanna go get some burgers or something?”
Liu Qingge scowls at their interlocked hands. He scoffs. Sha Hualing, Shen Yuan also notices, does not seem to like their togetherness as well.
Shang Qinghua shoots his friend a thumbs up. “The more grease, the better!”