Chapter Text
When Shen Yuan gets home, he’s still considerably peeved, to say the least. Biting his lips, he runs through his usual afternoon tasks with an unmitigated fury only befitting that of a particularly violent MMA fighter. After he nearly punches a hole straight through a cup of instant noodles, (read: dinner) his disheveled roommate, Shang Qinghua, finally pipes up.
“Say, Cucumber-bro,” he says, raising an amused eyebrow, “what’s got you all hot and bothered?”
Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. He continues to violently assemble his instant ramen, albeit still with enough restraint to not pour boiling hot water all over himself. “Don’t call me that.”
Shang Qinghua snickers. “Aw, don’t be like that! Won’t you tell your best friend what’s wrong?”
“Who’s your- ugh,” He grabs a pair of chopsticks and starts twiddling the cooking noodles. “Ok, fine. You know how I nicely asked you to get those flowers from the shop for me?”
“Bullied.”
“Whatever! Anyway, that person working there messed with my bouquet and then blatantly insulted me to my face! Simply appalling!” He punctuates this with a particularly heavy-handed jab of his chopsticks, which results in said chopsticks finally ending the suffering of the abused instant noodle cup. “Fuck.”
“You know, Cucumber-bro, you totally sound like a stuck-up rich dude right now.”
“Shut up-”
“Well, what did he say to you, then?”
“He- said-” Shen Yuan grits out while wrestling his meal into a bowl, “he- called me- a fart.”
Shang Qinghua places his chin on his hands and peers at Shen Yuan inquisitively, “Really.”
“Yeah! Something about being a fart and blowing him away.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re… mad?”
“Yeah?” Shen Yuan turns to Shang Qinghua to level an eyebrow at him. “What’s up with you? Got something in your ears?”
“Ahahaha! No, no! I just didn’t think you were… uh… like that.”
Shen Yuan’s eyes sharpen and pin on him like homing beacons. “Like what?”
“Like… er… dense-”
Shen Yuan’s chopsticks go soaring through the air, veritable forces of nature that only barely miss Shang Qinghua’s head and clatter against the wall as he jolts away with a shriek. “Who are you calling DENSE?!”
________
That night, Luo Binghe receives a text from one of his acquaintances.
10:46
Shang Qinghua: hey bro
what you doing traumatizing my roommate like that lmao
10:46
You: ?
10:47
Shang Qinghua: ghasjdfhdsfjshd
were you not the one that
like
called him a fart
10:47
You: Oh.
Well.
10:47
Shang Qinghua: ahahhahaghah
i mean
no harm done
10:48
Shang Qinghua: i just think
hes never had anyone flirt with him before
especially not
like
that
10:48
You: I find that rather hard to believe.
10:49
Shang Qinghua: what
you actually like him
10:49
What’s there not to like?
10:49
Shang Qinghua: ehhhhhh i didnt mean it like that
he just doesnt hang out with a lot of people
you know
10:50
You: I wanted to give it a try. Well, until I messed it up.
10:50
Shang Qinghua: bro
do you need me to help you like
set you two up
10:50
You: I don’t think he would be comfortable with that, would he?
10:50
Shang Qinghua: nah dude
you r e 100% his type
10:51
You: oh
10:51
Shang Qinghua: so ur good at cooking right
10:51
You: I’d like to think so.
10:52
Shang Qinghua: ok look
all the man eats everyday is instant ramen and takeout
if you cooked him something hed probably lose his mind and fall head over heels for you
10:58
You: a
10:58
Shang Qinghua: lol
you good
10:59
You: Yes. Very.
11:00
Shang Qinghua: noice
so are you available around 5 tmrw
we’re free then
ill keep him busy
you can just ask mobei for the address
he knows where it is hehehehehehehhhhghghehghheghhf
11:01
You: Okay
See you tomorrow?
11:01
Shang Qinghua: yeah
see yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Luo Binghe puts down his phone on his bed stand, his eyes aching slightly from the bright white of the screen. Unbidden, a huge smile splits across his face, and his heart starts racing from giddy excitement. He burrows his head in his blankets to muffle the quiet squeal he lets out, grinning into the covers. Oh! Shit!!!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!
He’s going to- to cook for that man?
Luo Binghe pauses for a split second to think about it. Really push that around his noggin. Cooking… for… him! WaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH-
He then promptly starts his freak-out session all over again.
__________
Grumbling under his breath, Shen Yuan clambers onto the 7:20 bus, two wieldy shopping bags in hand. Shang Qinghua, that annoying hamster, had asked him to go to a shop 40 minutes away to buy him some vegetables that were only sold there, apparently. Firstly, that was very uncharacteristic of him, as vegetables rarely graced their plates (or more accurately, styrofoam ramen cups.) Maybe his roommate ate a little healthier than him, though, because of his boyfriend. Sometimes, he put chinese cabbage and eggs in his ramen! So maybe this was another health push from Mobei Jun. Under normal circumstances, Shen Yuan would not have agreed to do his errand, but he had made Shang Qinghua get those flowers for him. He might as well pay the favor back.
Seating himself on the relatively empty bus, Shen Yuan stares blankly at his reflection in the glass, too lazy to pull out his phone and fiddle with it. Gradually, he lets himself get lulled into a half-asleep state by the rumble of the engine, swaying with the gentle bumps of the bus. Distantly, he realizes he didn’t eat lunch. Maybe he’ll heat up the stir-fried noodles from last night’s dinner, if Qinghua hasn’t already eaten them.
5 stops later, it’s time for him to get off. The bus stop is a five minute walk from their apartment. By now, it’s pretty dark, and the streetlights cast warm beams on the sidewalk. Shen Yuan yawns. Well now, he’s tired and hungry! He really hopes the noodles are still in the fridge when he gets home. They’re probably the most delicious thing available right now.
As he walks towards their apartment, he catches a whiff of something good in the air. Ah, that smells nice. I wish that were me eating whatever that is, he thinks to himself. But as he nears his destination, the scent only grows stronger. He stops before the door. That’s… coming from their apartment… isn’t it? Perplexed, he slowly places his key into the lock. Is he still asleep on the bus? Is that it? Did someone break into the apartment and cook food to… bait him? He carefully unlocks the door and pushes it open.
His eyes bug open. He probably looks like a lizard right now, because- because- on the dining table- it’s-
Heaven?!
Plate after plate of food! So much food! Food??? FOOd???
There’s braised pork belly, fat and glistening and covered in a dark, rich sauce. There’s fried ribbon fish, crisp and clean. There’s stir-fried bean plants! Tomatoes sprinkled with sugar! Squirrel fish! Shen Yuan lets out a little whimper of happiness.
Shang Qinghua knocks him out of his food-induced stupor with an amused laugh as he pops out from behind the door like a deranged ghost. “You look like you’re going to pass out, Cucumber-bro.”
Shen Yuan’s head whips towards him, eyes wide open. “Y-you made this?? You know- you can- you can COOK?!??”
Shang Qinghua immediately raises his hands defensively. “Haha… not quite! I’ll explain while you eat! Dig in!”
Shen Yuan gives him a suspicious glare, but his stomach pulls him towards the irresistible dishes on the table, and he hurriedly snatches a pair of chopsticks and serves himself a bowl of rice.
Shang Qinghua stands there like a mannequin.
Shen Yuan raises an eyebrow. “Well, are you going to eat?”
Immediately, Shang Qinghua breaks out of his awkward stance and laughs in that jittery way of his, quickly saying, “Thank you, thank you, bro, I do want to eat!”
“Okay… so you really didn’t make all this?” Shen Yuan grabs a piece of braised pork belly and takes a bite. “Then who d- ooooooooooooooooooooooohh my gOD-” His taste buds are practically exploding, and he thinks he sees the gilded clouds of heaven for a second. It’s so GOOD- the fat practically melts on his tongue, and the meat falls apart in his mouth, perfectly accentuated with its sweet flavor. With no hesitation, he stuffs the rest of the piece in his mouth, and he can’t help but throw his head back and close his eyes, lost in pure ecstasy. He must… he must know what hands crafted such a godly delicacy. This is the best thing he’s ever eaten. He’s practically going to ascend right on the spot.
When he finally recovers from that ineffable moment, he looks Shang Qinghua directly in the eyes with an intensity rivaled only by an auntie making comments about how much taller you’ve gotten! His blood is determination! He must know what kind of deity kissed the surface of their dining table! “Shang Qinghua.”
The man blinks at him with his cheeks stuffed full of squirrel fish. “Mmph- yes?”
“Who did this.”