Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shang likes his mornings to run smoothly. He gets up, showers, eats a hearty breakfast, and makes his way to the gym. He arrives early, (earlier than even remotely necessary!) to check on everything, to turn on the lights, to clean up anything the guys had missed the night before, etc. His dad is the owner of the gym, but recently decided Shang had been an employee long enough to know his way around managing it himself. He hasn’t let him down so far, but he’s only been ‘in charge’ for about a month. Their client base is large enough that he doesn’t recognize everyone that comes through the doors, but familial enough that he’s on a first-name-basis with most, if not all, of the regulars.

Shang may not be as comfortable with his fellow employees, but they do enjoy his company, making sure to follow his tasks and learning from the tips he gives them. They gently rib him about the way he tends to get nervous when not in an authoritative position. He’s begun to loosen up around them, understanding each of their quirks and how their interactions with each other are only small insights into the genuine love and respect they’ve got for one another, even if Po’s the only one who’d admit to that. Shang’s dad’s technically has someone employed as Shang’s superior, as Shang’s still learning, and he’s been keeping meticulous tabs on Shang’s behavior, making sure he’s not fraternizing with his fellow employees too often, or forgetting to give someone enough working hours, and just generally waiting for him to make a big enough mistake that he can report Shang to his father. Shang’s been wanting to crack under the pressure, but has managed not to, in part due to the boys’ support, making sure to pick up any slack Shang were to leave behind.

He’s finally broken into the guys’ morning coffee runs now, which was a huge step for him, since he can barely form a conversation outside of work-related topics. Shang suspects they did it out of pity, but he’s happy to be included regardless. He’s not all too sure why they enjoy coffee so much, as he prefers decaffeinated tea, but it seem to keep their performances as personal trainers at optimal level. Their clients do continue to come back, so Shang is unbothered. It’s pretty interesting when Shang gets the chance to observe the three of them when they’re working one-on-one with someone, because their personalities bleed into their training styles. Yao is nearly impatient and borderline angry with his clients when they don’t do their reps quickly enough, or they haven’t been continuing their work outside of their sessions. He personally commits each client’s goals to himself, making sure they achieve what they want to, whether it’s a short-term goal or a start to a life-long journey to what they have determined wellness to look like for themselves. He’ll push the clients beyond where they ever wanted to go, and that’s how they prefer it to be; if they wanted someone who was gentle and understanding, they’d go to Po for his yoga and meditation classes. He holds personal sessions with newbies, or people seeking further instruction outside of class, and has been known to hold clients’ hands, quite literally, through the entire process of what they’re committing themselves to. Po’s approach works for those who learn from positive reinforcement and a calm atmosphere. Meanwhile, Ling takes the spot for the middle-of-the-roaders. He’s a personal trainer with a soft spot, which means that if someone’s had a rough day and they don’t feel as motivated to do their workout for the day, he’ll be silly and make them laugh, or do some reps with them as encouragement. Ling makes sure to push his clients, but also make them smile. He knows what it’s like to be the lanky, awkward kid, but armed with self-confidence, he’s comfortable in his own skin, and wants others to be as well.

The morning comes when it’s Shang’s turn to grab coffee for everyone. He makes the conscious decision to leave later than he normally does, as he had stayed late the night before to do his managerial duties, and goes to the local coffeeshop to pick up everyone’s drinks. He’s chosen a time that when he gets to the gym, everyone will first be stumbling through the door, in the midst of waking up, so Shang can push hot drinks into their palms and send them on their ways.

Shang smooths a hand down his dress shirt, wincing at his own reflection in the coffeeshop’s window. His hair was not cooperating with him this morning, and he was sweating too much for a simple coffee run. He wasn’t used to social interaction outside of the workplace, so this was going to be a challenge for him. Opening the door to enter the coffeeshop left Shang feeling uncomfortable in his dress clothes. He had opted to wear them since it was his rest day, and therefore didn’t have clients scheduled for himself.

Shang glanced around at the décor, taking in the scattered tables and chairs, with a kitschy atmosphere and chalkboard menu. He dipped a hand into his pocket to look over everyone’s orders again, and took a breath to brace himself for the ordering portion of his morning. Po wanted a caramel frapp, Ling wanted a “regular, ol’ brewed coffee,” whispering an additional request for sweeteners, and Yao wanted a large mug of black coffee. Mouthing the words to himself, he took a spot in line, and admired the pastries on display. He chose one that was mild enough for his mild sensibilities, and stepped forward to the counter. Shang immediately started to stumble over his orders, but managed to ask for them in a dignified manner, with the barista confirming each order as Shang went along. When he finally asked for his pastry, he drew his eyes upward, only to see a handsome man with dark black hair and piercing eyes looking back. The barista’s smile was confident as he bent down to grab the pastry. Shang immediately ran a hand through his hair, straightening his collar as discretely as possible, and cleared his throat in order to ask for his barista’s name.

When the barista came back up, placing the pastry on the counter, about to turn to start making Shang’s orders, Shang managed to say, “Oh, uh, thanks…” with the barista pointing at his name tag, “…Mulan! Thanks, Mulan. Greatly appreciate it.”

Mulan just returned Shang’s smile slyly and went to making the appropriate orders. Shang wiped his sweaty palms on his khakis, and went to go sit at a table not facing Mulan. He let out a breath, and tried to salvage what he could of his brain. His barista was adorable and sarcastic and obviously talented with coffee and certainly very attractive, and just when he was telling himself to get a grip, he was being called up for his order. He picked up the drink carrier, along with his pastry, and quickly tried to make his way out of the coffeeshop with as much dignity as he could, tripping a bit over his own feet.

Delivering the coffees went over well; the guys were appreciative of Shang’s gesture, and made sure to display their thanks in their various ways: Ling by making him laugh so hard he snorted, Po by sweeping him off his feet, and Yao by punching him in the arm. These guys were what had made coming to work enjoyable, and Shang was happy to display his appreciation in whatever way he could. Normally, the guys alternated coffee-ordering duties every weekday, with Friday being the day where they all went out for drinks after work instead, but with Shang’s being too eager to potentially see Mulan before another week went by, he asked to get coffee everyday for the next week, despite his newly-specified day being Mondays.

Shang’s coming into the coffeeshop again, and he’s sweating, again. Mulan’s on shift, and smiling, looking like the adorable cherub that he is, and Shang’s got to remind himself to at least be a little suave. In his attempt to play it cool and order something new off the menu, he gets tongue-tied and makes a fool of himself, instead of sounding like he knows what he’s talking about. Mulan is obviously trying not to giggle, just barely holding back a smile. A second barista is rushing around, getting everything tidied up for the craziness that will be arriving with all the 9to5ers in just a couple of hours, laughing openly at Shang’s faux pas.

Mulan waves him off saying, “Don’t mind him, that’s just Mushu. The guy’s anal about everything regarding coffee. He’s really sweet though, I promise.” Shang just nods and laughs awkwardly.

“I bet he’s a great guy…” Shang trails off, getting distracted by the good looks before him. Mulan just smiles patiently, waiting for Shang to place his order.

“Take your time, you’re our first customer of the day,” Mulan gestures to the empty shop around him. Shang manages to ask for the guys’ orders correctly, and decides to order the same drink he had last week. He sits down at a nearby table and waits for his drinks to be called, while Mulan and Mushu go about preparing the drinks.

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Mulan’s writing his number on Shang’s cup, per Mushu’s advice, when he notices Shang get twitchy and stand up. He quickly shoves the final cup of the entire order into Shang’s hand, and waves him off. Only later does he realize Shang’s hands were sweaty enough to smear his phone number, and he facepalms.

Chapter Text

It becomes a thing, between the two of them. The boys let Shang bring them their coffee every morning, because, convenience, and Shang then has an opportunity to see Mulan a few times a week. Of course, his hours shift and change, as do Mulan’s friend, Mushu’s, but Shang is more than happy to reside in the space that has now become a little more comfortable for him. Its warm mahogany bar and chalked-up menu boards are quite cozy. Most days, Shang walks in, in his exercise clothes, because it’s the easiest means for him to still be early to work, and ready for his day. Mulan starts to tease him lightly about it, calling it ‘athleisure.’

It’s a Wednesday morning, and Shang is crossing the street to walk into the coffeeshop, wearing a snug black muscle tee, with loose shorts. It’s laundry day, and he didn’t want to just wear form-fitting spandex in a public space that’s not his gym.

When Mushu spots him through the glass of the doors, he breaks out into a laugh. Shang’s self-conscious, but also tries to remind himself that Mushu never seems to have mal intent.

Shang pulls open the doors, arms flexing lightly, and falters when he sees Mulan come out towards the front from the back room. His bravado fades, and Mushu seizes his moment.

“Well, look at you, pretty boy! Lookin’ like you just left a frat brothers meeting!” Mushu’s toothy smile has Shang rolling his eyes, because he gets it, he looks like a douche. Mulan elbows Mushu lightly, tying his apron on around his waist.

“Oh hush, Mushu, I’m sure Shang is a very busy man and just threw this on because he was running late, right?” Mulan’s got a look on his face that’s hopeful, as if he almost expects better from Shang, and well, Shang doesn’t know just quite what to do with that.

Shang blushes, and admits, “It’s laundry day for me, and I didn’t want to wear just spandex to this lovely establishment,” he lightly jokes, gesturing to the décor around them.

Mushu’s off-hand comment of, “I wish you had,” has Shang’s blush intensifying, and Mulan looks horrified, before steeling himself. They’re lucky it’s too early for the morning rush, otherwise Shang would’ve been kicking himself for holding up the line.

“The usual, right?” Mulan asks, smiling not unkindly. Shang confirms, and Mushu lets out another laugh, for whatever reason. They both get to work, making Shang’s orders for the morning. Shang leans against the bar, looking over the different zines and posters placed in various places around the coffeeshop. He’s trying really hard not to blush again, because Mulan looks really beautiful today with his hair pulled back into a braid.

Mushu finishes up with the boys’ drinks, placing them into the drink holder. He smiles gently at Shang, and moves on to cleaning up their workspace and prepping the materials for the nine-to-fivers rush, like always. Mulan meanwhile looks very concentrated on something, his pink tongue peeking through his lips. Shang tries not to stare, and fails. The idea of that same mouth, possibly ever getting somewhere near Shang’s mouth has him flustered, and he reminds himself it’d be weird to date his barista, especially considering he’s only somewhere in his twenties. Suddenly, there’s a hot cup of coffee being handed off to him, with some beautiful coffee art on top in the shape of a heart. 

Shang’s super impressed, and makes sure to tell Mulan, “Woah! That coffee art is so great! I wish I had that technical capability.” His praise is cut short when Shang glances at his watch and realizes he needs to get moving if he’s to get to the gym on time.

Shang quickly grabs the drink carrier, leaving Mushu to wipe the counter with a smirk and Mulan covering his face with his hands.

 
Ling, Po, and Yao are more than grateful for their daily caffeine boost when Shang arrives with the coffees, rushing out of his car and into the building, quickly swiping his ID card on the way in. Yao punches him in the arm, playfully, and makes his way off to do… whatever it is that Yao does in the mornings. Po hugs Shang with his whole body, lifting him off his feet, and Shang’s more than happy to receive the affection. When the hug has lasted long enough that Ling clears his throat, Po grabs up Ling as well, squeezing them all together, and then placing them back down.

“Thanks, boss!” Ling’s rusty voice is indicative that Ling’s just woken up, put on clothes, and arrived at the building, which is on brand for the lanky man. Ling, no longer worried about judgement, pulls out the mini creamers and sugar from the drink carrier, and mixes his drink to his specifications, taking a seat behind the security desk in front of the doors, as the gym still has about twenty minutes until it’s officially open.

Meanwhile, Po smiles with his entire face, thanking Shang again, “Thank you for my caramel frappuccino, sir. I really do love my whipped cream in the morning. But is it alright of me to ask as to why you were so late today?” Ling’s head swivels, as he’s heard the possibility of gossip, and is suddenly much more awake than he was just five minutes earlier.

“Ooo, yeah, boss, why’re you so late today?” Ling’s smiling, trying to hide his smile behind his cup, and absolutely failing. Po walks over to Ling and puts his arm on his shoulder, sipping his caramel frapp.

Shang starts to defend himself. “Psh… I’m not late. I was just talking to the baristas at the coffeeshop, and there’s definitely not a cute barista named Mulan there that I may or may not have a crush on,” Shang, immediately realizing his blunder, covers his mouth, and blushes.

The boys start ‘ooo’ing and ‘aw’ing, and Ling makes sure to voice his support, saying “Well, in that case, feel free to be as late as 8 o’clock. I wouldn’t want to get in the middle of your romance!”

“I second that. I can’t wait to meet this ‘Mulan,’” says Po, who’s smiling brightly again. Shang blushes deeply, and he can feel the heat of his skin. The boys are merciful, however, and leave him be when he says, “Good thing you’ll never meet him!” and walks off to set up his training area with mats.

Two days later, Shang’s sitting at the countertop in front of Mushu, and instead of Shang taking the initiative to start a conversation, Mushu proceeds to detail his terrible blind date the night beforehand the moment he sees Shang. He had sighed in relief when he saw the athleisure-clad man, and Shang was more than happy to have an amicable interaction with the barista for the first time in the two weeks since he had started visiting the coffeeshop. Mulan was leaning against the countertop besides Mushu, chin in his hand, a contented smile on his face. Mulan would insert his two cents every few moments, but otherwise, seemed content just spending time with the two of them.

Finally, when Mushu was done recounting the terrible experience he had meeting someone who claimed their exes to all be ‘crazy,’ and who requested a martini with specifically six black olives, the baristas got to work on Shang’s order, as per usual. The shop was nearly empty other than the three men, as most of their traffic was either at the crack of dawn, or right before shifts began at nine. Shang had gotten to the coffeehouse earlier than usual, so he still had time to spare before he needed to leave.

While spraying whipped cream on the caramel frappuccino, Mushu seemed to have a realization, and suddenly asked, “So are all these drinks for you? Because damn, that’s a lot of money to be spending every single day just on yourself!”

Finishing off the sweet drink, Mushu drizzled caramel onto the cream, as Shang explained sheepishly, “Well, I’m the manager of a local gym, and my employees need their coffee to be on their best game, so I’m more than happy to provide. Especially because I get paid back.” Shang scratched at the back of his neck. “And because I get to hang out with you two every morning,” Shang said, while Mulan looked like he was choking.

Mulan sputtered, and Mushu patted his back gently, smiling toothily at Shang. Mushu proceeded to say, “What gym? I’ve been needing to find a new one since I moved here. It helps me sleep at night,” and looked at over at Mulan, still trying to catch his breath, “and Mulan here can be my gym buddy!” Mulan looked over, narrowed his eyes, and seemed to focus back in on the coffee before him.

Mulan quietly said, “I know I can’t escape your schemes, Mushu, so whatever,” but without heat.

Shang then said, excited at the prospect of seeing Mulan more often, “Coursing River Athletics! I’m still a personal trainer at the same time as being a manager, so maybe I could train you guys! Or you could take one of my classes!” Immediately after saying this, he realized his coworkers were going to meet the cute barista that Shang had a crush on, but then he reminded himself that it’s just a professional relationship, and if anything, it’ll make his supervisor pleased to see that Shang is gaining new clients, even as a manager.

As the drinks were finished being made, Shang really had no more reason to stick around, as they would become cold otherwise, so he took it as a win when Mushu replied with, “You’ll be seeing us both sometime in the coming days then!”

Mulan said, “See you soon, Shang,” with his charming smile, and Shang almost walked straight into the glass doors trying to wave at Mulan in response.

Come Friday, Shang was finishing up a barre class, reveling in his aching muscles and sweaty skin. “Alright, cool down time! Great work everyone!” He led them through the cool-down, until he spotted through the windows of the classroom two familiar faces, only in work-out gear, with water bottles in hand. As soon as the class was over, Shang thanked everyone for coming, cleaned up his area, and rushed out to the security desk to ask Ling what was going on with Mushu and Mulan actually taking Shang up on his offer to check out his gym.

“Oh, hey boss! Those two? Oh yeah, the short one’s really funny, but the tall one seemed to be out of his element. Why?” Ling was genuinely curious, until he realized just exactly who the tall one seemed to be. “Oh shit. Oh shit! Where’s Chien-Po, I need him to see the look on your face!” Laughing at Shang’s red face from exertion, Ling patted Shang gently on the cheek. “You look good, buddy. You’ll do fine. This is your gym, and they’re visiting because they like you. Hey, maybe they’ll even become members. This is just their trial day!”

“I just don’t want to make a fool of myself, Ling.”

“You won’t.”

Shang proceeded to check if he had any more classes or personal training sessions for the next hour and a half, and since his schedule was clear, he caught up with the two men in the weightlifting area. “Hey guys!” Once the words were out, Shang was unsure of how to proceed, and stuttered while Mushu looked like he knew something Shang did not. Mulan was working on the shoulder press machine, with Mushu spotting him.

“What’s up Shang? You’ve got a really nice gym here, man,” says Mulan, starting to lose his breath, as the number of reps began to increase.

“I second that!” says Mushu, wearing a neon tee and joggers. Shang smiles, warmed by the praise. Then his eyes drift over to Mulan, whose hair is pulled back, with elegant tendrils falling into his face from the exercise. Mushu excuses himself to use the restroom, telling Shang, “You’ve got him, yeah? Okay, great!” rushing off before Shang can reply. Shang then takes his place next to Mushu, watching as his muscles flex in his skin-tight heathered shirt. His spandex shorts leave little to the imagination, and Shang reminds himself that he is a professional, but still blushes. Mulan probably didn’t notice, so Shang is safe in that regard. Soon enough, Mulan’s finished with his reps, as they small talk about athletic experience and such. Then, left with each other’s company, they’re in a bit of a rut. Shang feels his feet scuff the floor, and then he realizes that Mulan would probably enjoy a good ab workout, if he’s going for a full-body experience today.

“Do you want to work on crunches? There’s a free classroom down that hallway with mats provided, if you want,” Shang says quietly.

Mulan smiles and says, “I’d like that.” He thinks, and says, “Let me text Mushu quickly first, just so he knows where we’ll be.” He pulls out his phone, and Shang notices his lock-screen is a fluffy dog; he files that information away for future conversations.

Once Mushu’s been alerted, to which he responded, “great. see u in a bit. made a new friend *eyes emoji*,” and Mulan snorted, to which Shang felt his heart clench, and he knew he was in deep.

They made their way down the hallway, into the hardwood-floored classroom. The mirrors in the front of the room were great for form work, but they made Shang self-conscious today. Mulan spotted the mats before Shang even had to say anything, and Shang’s mouth went dry when Mulan bent down in front of him to grab a mat, looking away as to be respectful. Mulan then rolled out the mat on the floor, and laid down on it.

If Shang’s mouth was dry before, it was certainly even more dry now. Mulan’s hair was mostly fallen out of his pony, splayed on the mat, and Shang was going to hold his feet down to help with his form. That’s what they had agreed upon. Mulan was relaxed, limbs loose. Shang meanwhile was sweating again, and was trying not to choke on his own saliva. Mulan’s smile could light up a city, and Shang was New York City.

Shang walked over to the mat, and gingerly placed his hands on Mulan’s Nikes. Mulan’s breath was sharp, and their eyes locked as Shang squatted in front of Mulan. Shang smiled goofily, trying not to let his clammy palms slide off Mulan’s sneakers. The man before him was even more gorgeous close up, and Shang admired his strong eyebrows and full lips before Mulan said, “Alright, let’s get these crunches started, yeah?” and Shang braced himself and nodded, unable to speak.

Mulan began to do sit-ups, getting quite close to Shang’s face in the process, and Shang just enjoyed the moment, knowing his smile was quite telling, but he didn’t care. Mulan obviously did not see him as more than a friend, because otherwise, why would he let Shang see him in such a vulnerable state? There’s a reason no one hits on other people at the gym.

When Mulan finished with the set number of reps, Shang could feel his aching muscles straining to remain under his hands, and Mulan’s trembling limbs. Shang slowly lifted his hands, and Mulan slid back to a fully flat position. Shang was still squatting directly in front of Mulan, and backed away as if burned by fire; the tension was palpable, and Shang was worried it was for the wrong reasons. He did not want to make Mulan uncomfortable. Mulan didn’t seem to notice, and Mushu was suddenly rushing into the room, his vibrancy bringing a lightness to the room.

Either being oblivious, or deliberately ignoring the dynamics of the room, Mushu started to go on about his new gym buddy that he had found, and how they had hit it off, so Mulan and Shang should be gym buddies now.

“I’m more than happy to be your gym buddy, but only if you’re comfortable with that, Shang,” Mulan said, giving Shang an out.

Before Shang could reply that he was, Mushu said, “and we all know Shang is, so this works out! Amazing, perfect, show-stopping.” Shang laughed.

“That works,” Shang said, and Mulan smiled at him earnestly.

Shang would lay in bed that night, unable to stop thinking about Mulan’s dark hair, and how nice it would be to braid it for him, and watch movies with him and snuggle with him and love him forever and. Shang was in deep. But he had to keep it professional if he was going to remain Mulan’s gym buddy, or rather, his personal trainer. So much for keeping his feelings under control.

He made a point to stop Yao before he ran off in the morning to ask for his assistance about self-control. “You have to center yourself, and if anything, you can have Chien-Po squeeze you until your anger’s gone.”

“Oh no, I mean… I have romantic feelings for someone, but it would be inappropriate of me to pursue this person. Do you have any tips on how to keep myself from falling for them even harder?” Shang asked.

“I mean, I don’t think Chien-Po would be interested in you anyway, because you’re a shit cook, but just remind yourself that you’re friends first. You’ve got this,” Yao said as he rushed away to get to whatever tasks he had set for himself, before Shang could correct Yao.

Shang chuckled quietly to himself, and went on to deliver the other men’s drinks.

Chapter Text

In the coming days, Shang’s feelings for Mulan continued to intensify, despite his best efforts. He reveled in the various talents Mulan had, and his knack for dry wit, constantly making Shang stifle his laughter so as to not offend Mushu by laughing along with whatever joke Mulan had made at his slight expense. Meanwhile, Mushu’s friendship with Shang has blossomed into a beautiful, meme-sharing connection.

Somewhere along the way, it became agreed upon that Mulan & Mushu would drive Shang home in the evenings, when the gym would close for the day. It was a typical Thursday night when Mushu was blaring Nicki Minaj, rolling the windows down on the highway. Shang made eye contact with Mulan in the rearview, and he couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his chest, feeling the wind rip through his air, the bass reverberating in his ribs. The early fall air felt good on his skin, and he drifted home, riding high on his newfound friendships.

The evening turned late by the time Shang was cooking dinner for himself in his apartment, but he was no stranger to eating a late meal, taking the time to churn his own noodles and crush his own tomatoes for a hearty bowl of spaghetti. He found solace in the motions of cooking, creating dishes from scratch gave him the same sense of satisfaction that a good workout did, leaving him feeling settled and empowered within himself.

Sitting down on his couch, a warm bowl of pasta pressed to his chest, Shang thought to turn on the TV, but his attention soon drifted to the way Mulan had smiled at him in the car, and he thought to text the other man. That was a new development; Mulan had written his phone number on a coffee cup just this past Monday, and Shang had been too nervous to mention it. Now seemed the best time to say something, as he had a busy day planned for Friday, so in the case that Mulan was too busy, he wouldn’t have but one night to pine for his reply.

Po 9:14pm: say ‘oh gosh that sucks! hope cricket’s doing okay. if ya’ll need any show suggestions to distract mushu, I have some great ones!’ but you can’t recommend Honolulu 911 again shang. sorry to say

The minute Shang had pressed send, he regretted his decision, and tossed his phone to the carpeted floor, channeling his energy into enjoying his crime show, until he realized that he may have just: a.) cracked his phone, and/or b.) unintentionally ignored the love of his life. Placing his empty bowl on the coffee table before him, he dived for his phone, checking for any injuries. Once he saw it was clear, Shang checked his notifications, swallowing down his nerves when he realized he had a reply from “Maybe: Mulan.”

Mulan 9:20pm: hi! yeah we’re fine. mushu’s just mad now bc cricket had a hairball as soon as we got home LMAOOO

Shang, wracking his memory for any mention of Cricket, quickly remembered that was the cat that Mushu was constantly showing pictures of to anyone who would stop and listen for a second, including clients at the coffeeshop, much to their manager, Khan’s dismay.

Still, Shang was unsure as to how to respond. It was time to call in backup, unfortunately. Scrolling through his previous chats, he found “The Messy Movers” group chat that Ling had started when they all had started working together at Coursing River. Sending an SOS Shang realized would put him at risk, but he was willing to bet that Chien-Po and Ling had already discussed Mulan & Mushu’s arrival twenty different times, and Yao was going to have the same sage advice ready when needed. The main issue would be hiding any hint of client-trainer shenanigans from their manager, Chi-fu, but that wouldn’t be a problem. Mulan hadn’t expressed any interest in Shang romantically. By the time Shang had come back to awareness, each of the men had put their two cents in.

Po 9:14pm: say ‘oh gosh that sucks! hope cricket’s doing okay. if ya’ll need any show suggestions to distract mushu, I have some great ones!’ but you can’t recommend Honolulu 911 again shang. sorry to say

Ling 9:15pm: omg dude if you recommend h911 I will laugh so hard.. do that bro

Yao 9:22pm: Honolulu 911 is a quality show. You like Mulan? Tell him. Worst thing he can say is he just wants to stay friends.

Ling 9:23pm: yeah tbh

Po 9:25pm: if anything, it’ll brighten his day!

Shang, considering all his options, decided to go with recommending some shows. Mulan thanked him, and the conversation ended for the night. Shang’s heart nearly exploded with the joy of speaking to Mulan in another medium, as if they didn’t spend enough time together already. But when considering it, Shang realized Mulan and Mushu spend nearly every waking moment together, and they’re fine, and he can trust Mulan to say if there’s something wrong.

Shang cleaned up his dinner, turned off his TV, and showered. When changing into his sleeping shorts, he took a look at himself in the mirror. Staring back at him was a man Shang could be proud of, one that had endured unspeakable horrors, but had survived, nonetheless. He had thrived. He pressed a hand to his neck. The pressure of his impending headache felt to be too much, but Shang knew he had endured worse. He could handle this. It was the thoughts that pressed him into the mattress, in the dark, that questioned his capabilities, that tested his very limits.

Pulling his weighted blanket over himself, Shang sighed, turning on his white noise machine, closing his eyes to visions of horrors.

Shang awoke to the sound of his alarm, playing as gentle of music as possible, starting his day with a shower. Halfway through driving to the coffeeshop, he remembered that Fridays were the days that him and the boys went out for drinks after work, forgoing coffee for that day. Turning back around, Shang remembered that Mulan and Mushu had signed up for his weight-training class for the afternoon. Swallowing down his sweat, he steeled himself for an exciting day of empowering others, despite his own skin crawling from his restless night.

Once his morning routine of opening up the facility was finished, and his employees started to walk through, Shang could feel dread turning his blood ice cold, despite his best efforts. The look of recognition in Yao’s eyes had Shang’s shame twisting deeper in his gut, Shang’s sweat starting to intensify, his gaze losing grip on the foreground. Yao wrapped his arms around Shang’s torso, sitting beside him on one of the couches in the staff rest area. Ling and Po, laughing together about the latest comedy special they had seen, gently laid their bags on the ground, silenced upon arrival.

There wasn’t really a protocol for when Shang was like this. Before, when Shang was quiet and shaky around the other trainers, he’d lock himself in a bathroom stall to shake and shake until he could stand again. It wasn’t until the time Yao found him and held him, that Shang was able to put words to what was happening. Shang’s therapist had been encouraging him to share his experiences, for weeks, but that was easier said than done. Yao tried to talk to Shang about it, but Shang’s shame froze him, leaving him numb and tight against the potential of connection. Yao had let him, and moved on. It seemed that he had warned the other two men of Shang’s condition, but not in any detail.

Shang’s vision started to clear, and the tremors quieted down. The strength in Yao’s arms, holding Shang’s arms tight to his own body, kept him tethered to the ground. Po slowly approached, his arms held out wide. Shang scrunched his eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners, sickened by his own vulnerability. He nodded, despite himself, knowing this was for the best. Po joined the hug, Ling being the final addition. The four of them sat like that, until Shang stopped trembling altogether, and they slowly let go, one at a time.

The tears had dried, but Shang’s face remained blushed. Clearing his throat, he excused himself to set up his room for the first class of the day. Po and Yao quietly exchanged words, with Ling running off to occupy the front desk before they officially opened, and before Chin-Fu came by to make sure everything was in place for the day.

After Shang’s first class of the day, he felt much better, more in-tune with himself. It was always grounding for him to exercise, connecting with his body after years of numbing out. Checking in on his employees, the day passed by quickly, with his lunch break spent laughing along with Ling and Yao, with Po teaching a yoga course until late in the afternoon. Confirming their plans to meet at their local bar, Shang felt like he had shaken back into his skin. His friends weren’t holding it against him that he had been vulnerable. Things were going to be okay, at least for today.

Soon enough, Shang had finished his lunch, and he was expecting Mushu and Mulan to come ready for his weight-lifting course at three o’clock. He checked in with Po, who was just finishing up his yoga class, thanking everyone for coming, and made sure that he was good to eat lunch alone, since Shang couldn’t join him. Po smiled, in his knowing way, and waved him off.

Shang hurried off to another room, readying each station depending on what people were interested in for the day, when Mulan and Mushu walked in. Mushu was in his typical spandex shorts and a sleeveless—yet hooded—shirt, ever the fashion icon, even, if not especially, at the gym. Mulan, meanwhile, was wearing leggings with an old shirt pronouncing that he was in a rendition of Hamlet some years before.

Shang huffed out a soft laugh, enamored with yet another piece of Mulan that he had not known before, that the confident, friendly man before him was at one point a theater kid. Mulan’s self-awareness had been refreshing, so Shang made sure to take note to ask Mulan about his theater days once class was over. It seemed as though with each piece that he learned about Mulan, Shang’s interest continued to be piqued to higher and higher heights, this enigma of a man before him.

As the rest of the patrons ambled in, Mushu came up to the front of the class, and chatted with Shang. While talking about future plans, Mushu mentioned some plans that Mulan, Khan, and him had for the weekend, offering Shang a spot in Khan’s van, to which Shang thanked him for the offer, and said he’d think about it.

“You better, pretty boy!” Mushu said as he turned away, surely knowing the comment would leave Shang bashful, as he prepared himself to start the class.

Eyeing Mulan, who was currently stretching on a mat, Shang clapped his hands together as the class started, proclaiming, “Thank you all for coming today! To any newcomers, I hope by the end of today, you will be feeling just a little more present in the moment. And for my returners, thank you for sticking with me!” Closing the door to the room, Shang made his way back to the front.

“Let’s start with a good warm-up! Depending on your abilities, and your own personal comfort, roll your ankles and wrists to get those joints warm. Then, hip circles in whichever position suits you, and we’ll finish with cat-cow. Remember to focus on your breathing; feel the way your air travels into your throat, into your lungs, and back out.”

After demonstrating each warm-up, throughout his introduction, Shang made his way around the room, helping correct forms and provide guidance when needed. When it came time to help Mushu and Mulan, who had positioned themselves next to one another, both of them had chosen to perform cat-cow on all fours, in lieu of using a chair or a wall. Immediately, Shang’s face warmed, because while he was a professional, when seeing Mulan, the man he is immensely into, with baby hairs flying away from his braid, in such an exposed position, seemed too intimate for him to see. Bracing himself, clearing his mind of any unsavory thoughts, Shang willed away his sweating, and focused on making sure his clients got the best experience possible. This experience would, thus, not include fantasizing about one of these clients being alone with Shang, as that would be immensely inappropriate.

As much as he dreaded the interaction, Shang did have to correct Mulan to make sure he got the most benefit from the warm-up, so, clearing his throat, he said, “Mulan, make sure to have your weight evenly distributed.”

Mulan seemed to not have heard what Shang said, maintaining the same form as before, seemingly in deep concentration. So, Shang spoke again, his nerves starting to return. “Mulan, do you mind if I adjust your shoulders?”

Mulan’s body was quite rigid, but his voice was easy when he said cheerily, “Not at all! Thank you for the help, Shang,” smiling up at Shang, from beneath his long, long lashes.

Mushu, ever the adult, said, “Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind at all to—” but was cut off when Mulan broke from his pose to poke at Mushu, who nearly toppled over in his laughter. Adjusting Mulan’s form with the lightest touch, so as to not reveal his shaking hands, Shang felt, once again, the strength in Mulan’s form. Pushing any thoughts from his head about various ways Mulan could use his strength for Shang, with his work finished, Shang quickly moved onto the next participants, helping when needed.

Finally, it was time for everyone to lift their weights. Most of his participants in his Thursday at two weightlifting class were returners, and each participant had a spotter who would be helping keep their form and make sure they were safe. The lifter and spotter would switch off every specified number of reps, and their goals were kept track of on the whiteboard on the left side of the room, where Shang had made it a point to write Mulan and Mushu’s names on the whiteboard, without expectations, so they could build their own.

With everyone paired off, after a short re/introduction into form by Shang, his focus was on Mulan and Mushu. Watching the pair to make sure they were following the rules of safe lifting form that Shang had set out, Shang realized they were whispering to one another, as Mulan performed numerous reps on some hand weights. Curious, but not wanting to intrude, Shang redirected himself to those who were benching their reps for the class today, walking around to answer any possible questions and chat with clients.

Eventually, Shang was forced to come back upon his two newcomers, with Mulan still working with some light hand weights. Mulan seemed to be struggling with weights that Shang would have expected to be easy money for him, but Shang was not here to judge.

“Do you want me to switch those out for some, er, lighter weights, Mulan?” Shang asked gently, faltering as Mushu stared at Mulan, arms crossed across his chest.

“I’ve got it, but thank you, Shang. Just let me know if my form is wrong, please?” Mulan parried, his eyelashes fluttering. Shang was quick to point out a small flaw, in hopes of helping Mulan build his confidence knowing that he had the best form possible. Mushu was meanwhile checking his nails, sighing.

Shang slowly asked if it was alright to touch Mulan, which he confirmed, and so he gently touched Mulan’s shoulder, feeling the muscles flex under his skin. Shang reveled in the feeling of strength in this man before him, and softly adjusted his form, swallowing down any compliments he’d want to give Mulan. As well-intentioned as they could be, they would all be creepy, due to their client-trainer relationship.

Shang and Mulan’s faces were so close together, Shang could have just leaned in, if he weren’t in the middle of teaching a class in the facility of which he manages. He quickly jumped away, as Mushu in a monotone said, “Can you guys get a room, or…?” Realizing himself, Shang was almost sickened by his own behavior. He’d hate himself for a long time if he were to ever make one of his clients uncomfortable, irrespective of intention.

It wasn’t until Mulan said, “My reps are done, Mushu,” that Mushu looked up, and whatever he saw in Mulan’s face was significant enough that Mushu quickly took up his own set of weights without a complaint. Shang walked away, breathing hard, trying to settle his thoughts.

The class ended without a hitch, the class following through with a cooldown, and Shang thanked everyone for attending. After asking participants to put away their weights and mats, or otherwise clean their station and letting them know he’d see them next week, Shang let go of a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. His jaw unlocked, and he could feel himself revel in the relief of this class being over, his crush on Mulan nearly overtaking him with its intensity.

The shame of it all was the fact that Mulan did not, and would not, ever feel the same way as Shang. Shang didn’t even have confirmation that Mulan liked men, much less had an attraction to Shang. It was time to put it on the backburner, and focus on developing their friendship instead. If he couldn’t have this incredible man as a partner, he’d certainly love his friendship as well; there was no comparison, really, because either way, he would have Mulan in his life. He was thankful for that.

Instead of leaving with the rest of the class, Mulan was taking quite some time to clean down the weights he had used, and put them away. Thinking back to the weekend plans Mushu had invited him to, and because Mushu was distracted by something on his phone, Shang took the opportunity to come over and ask Mulan about his weekend plans.

“So, it seems like those of you who work at the coffeeshop are going to see a movie and go bowling on Saturday?” Shang said, half to his feet, and half to Mulan’s face.

Mulan’s mouth quirked up with his response, “Seems like Mushu told you what the ‘Coffee Crew’ is up to this weekend, did he?” making a pointed face in the direction of Mushu, who shrugged sheepishly. Shang’s mouth went dry, and he was about to say he could pretend he didn’t hear anything, when Mulan said, “I was actually going to invite you myself, now, but it seems like Mushu beat me to the punch. You’re more than welcome to come with us, Shang. We’d love to have you there! You can get to know Khan better, if you’d like.”

With Mulan’s sunny smile, how could Shang deny such a request? Feeling his heart clench with admiration, Shang said shyly, “Sounds great. Thank you both for inviting me. Just text me the details, if you would?”

Mulan’s nod was more than enough to make Shang smile for the rest of the day, and so they headed out, leaving Shang to revel in the feel of a class well-taught, and multiple social plans for one weekend(!).

The gay bar the ‘Messy Movers’ always attended was always busy on Fridays, so they usually set up shop in the corner. That way, Shang could be awkward without feeling pressured to explain himself, and is able to nurse a Shirley Temple while the boys chit chat about their day, and periodically go out to dance when it’s a song they love.

Eventually, the buzz on the dancefloor died down, and the conversation turned to Shang’s new crush.

Ling starts it, as always. “So… how’s the new clients doing? Your crush seemed to be real excited after your class today,” he finishes by slyly taking a sip out of his glass, keeping his eyes glued to Shang for any clue as to how things may be going between him and Mulan.

Encouraging the inquiry, Po’s encouraging tone seeps into his words. “I think Mushu seems like a really great friend. They both seem to really enjoy themselves at River. To be honest, that’s really great, you know? It’s always nice to know that people are feeling good about the work they do with us.” He takes a dramatic pause, looking out at the dancefloor. “Plus, it definitely means you guys are compatible.”

Shang, who had been sipping on his drink, nearly chokes on the sweet liquid when he hears the mention of compatibility. “Excuse me? I thought you said only rising Scorpios work out with me, since I’m a dawning moon Leo?”

Yao, whose knowledge of astrology knew no bounds, made the point, “Po was just reading off of his Co-Star.” Shang’s noise of complaint went ignored.

Interrupting Yao was Ling, who made the point that, “Those weren’t the correct terms, anyway,” letting out a laugh.

Continuing, Yao said, “Don’t be a limp noodle. You guys are absolutely compatible. You both have secrets you aren’t going to share with your loved ones, despite your therapists practically begging you both to open up to those around you.” Looking deeply into Shang’s eyes, Yao said, “We’ve all got our scars, Shang. I’d just rather show mine off.”

The bass of the music pounded in Shang’s ears, the dark of the club shadowing his features. Swallowing down rejections, Shang knew it was true. He stayed silent, eyeing his drink as he swirled his straw around.

Sobering up, Po and Ling exchanged a look. Ling moved to put a hand over Shang’s, which instinct had Shang tensing against, despite the gesture being more than welcome.

Ling made to solidify his touch, and said, “You know, honey, we love you. We are here for you, so you take your time when and if you decide to tell us about your personal life.” Shang swallowed, his small smile letting him off the hook.

Sighing, Yao said, “Well-said, Ling,” before making his way off to the dancefloor for Toxic. Contemplating whether or not he wanted to dance, Shang realized he needed a few minutes to come back to himself. It was more difficult after conversations than during, for him. It was easy to fly away when something got hard, it wasn’t until it was time to come back down that he struggled, really. Giving himself the time he needed, Shang collected his thoughts, sucking down his drink. His friends were chatting away, watching their friend fan himself and do some incredible moves on the dancefloor.

Shang ordered some fries, and eventually got dragged onto the dancefloor for another Britney number, dancing the night away with his friends.

After a much-needed night of sleep, Shang awoke to his alarm on Saturday morning, feeling good. Sleeping in was a luxury Shang didn’t usually partake in, but he had taken exception after his particularly trying week. Walking slowly to the shower, he thought back on what his friends had said. The urge to open himself up to those he had come to love was knocking at him more and more these days.

After his shower, Shang made himself fried eggs and Spam, eating breakfast just an hour later than he would during the week. He could always go into the gym on Saturdays, but that was the day him and his father had agreed could be his day off, and Chin-Fu had agreed he would hold it over for the day, all-too excited to take some sort of responsibility for the facility. It wasn’t until Shang checked his phone midway through finishing off his meal that he remembered he had agreed to go out with the ‘Coffee Crew’ for the day. Mulan had sent him a time and address, so once he finished, Shang hurried to get ready to ride his bike to the local theater.

They had decided on a horror movie, as Mushu and Khan were huge horror fanatics. Mulan was just being content to spend time with his friends, unfazed by the horror scene. Shang, meanwhile, was apprehensive, but looking forward to it. Cycling through various outfits, worrying over which was the most appropriate for both bowling and a movie showing, he eventually landed on a black long-sleeve with slim jeans and his trusty lace-ups.

By the time Shang had arrived at the theater, Khan was popping her gum loudly, tickets in hand, in front of the theater. “The boys asked me to be the one to wait for you. They said something about an extra-large popcorn being in it for me.” Rolling her eyes, she smiled good-naturedly, handing Shang a ticket once he had locked his bike up, and they found Mushu and Mulan in their seats.

The movie had Shang quite literally on the edge of his seat, and when he noticed, Mulan laughed at him, Mushu and Khan deeply engrossed in the film on either side of the two men. At one point, Shang had long forgotten he was holding the extra-large container of popcorn, only to feel the heat of someone else’s skin on top, which threw him out of his reverie. Realizing in horror that it was Mulan’s hand, Shang quickly relinquished his own, spilling popcorn and nearly falling out of his seat in the process.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to hog the popcorn, Mulan!” Mushu and Khan’s irritation at the noise resulted in a dual shushing, but Mulan seemed unfazed.

Whispering back, “It’s alright! I didn’t even realize,” Mulan’s trademark smile had Shang sweating profusely, and he was helpless to do anything but smile back.

Turns out, bowling was not Shang’s forte, but it was certainly Mulan’s. After the film, Khan and Mulan were gushing over the plotlines, with Mushu sulking because he had been able to predict each twist and turn. They all headed over to the bowling alley, throwing Shang’s bike on the back of Khan’s van.

They had split off in various directions at the alley—Mushu to cover the tab for the lane, Mulan to grab a bowling ball, and Khan and Shang putting on their shoes.

Probing Khan’s relationship to Mulan and Mushu, Shang asked, “So… how long has the Coffee Crew been together?” Shang was genuinely curious, as it seemed that the three of them were close enough to be more than just friends.

Pensively, Khan answered, “Mulan and I have known each other since we were, what, sixteen? And then Mushu showed up during his undergrad when he was twenty, so probably about four years!” Once her shoes were on, she stood up and said, “You’re probably wondering why I would choose to spend my free time with my coworkers, but we’re more like family.”

Shang responded, “I think that’s a really great sentiment, Khan,” smiling back at her. She extended a hand, and Shang nodded. Khan patted his shoulder gently, and rushed off to make sure Mushu wasn’t getting ripped off, his extended absence clueing her in.

Mulan came back soon enough, and Shang tried to keep his cool, considering that this wasn’t his home territory. It was unknown territory, really, for him to be out with Mulan when neither of them were at their respective jobs. But soon enough, Shang found himself enveloped in Mulan’s eyes, the length of his lashes, and the cut of his cheekbones. He was so, so handsome. Shang hadn’t realized Mulan’s hair was down, as the low lighting of the theater hadn’t clued him in, and he’d been interacting with Mushu most on their way to the alley. It fell to his shoulders, framing his face.

It wasn’t until Mulan said, “Shang? You okay? It’s your turn,” that Shang realized he was zoned out, probably looking really strange. Shang, shaking himself out, checking the scoreboard, realized that Mulan had already scored a spare, and Khan and Mushu were giggling quietly to themselves about something on Khan’s phone.

“Sorry about that! I was thinking about if I, uh, left the stove on, at home,” Shang said, making his way over to the bowling balls, knocking down all of two pins. Still, everyone cheered him on as if he had won a strike.

By the end, Mulan had wiped the floor clean with everyone, scoring a total of 253, while Khan was at 149, and Mushu and Shang pulling up the rear with scores in the double digits.

Piling into the van, and driving away, Khan dropped each passenger off, but not without making an effort to get out of her car, pulling Shang aside, and letting him know that he was a “catch,” and that he “shouldn’t forget that.” Mulling over her words, Shang unlocked his apartment door, opting to cook himself some ramen with his leftover noodles from when he had made pasta.

Thinking on his rest day ahead of him, Shang remembered he could dress however he wanted, because Sundays were the days he didn’t have any classes to teach, or trainings scheduled. Planning ahead, he thought to text Mushu if Mulan were working the next day, so maybe he could pop by the coffeeshop, as a surprise, for a bit before heading over to River.

As if he didn’t already do that for the past couple weeks, whether it was before work, or after.

Shang 8:16pm: Hi Mushu! Hope you’ve been doing okay since we lost at bowling LOL. Are you and Mulan working tomorrow morning?

Mushu 8:28pm: shang!!! i ate sum bad wings at the alley n bruh let me tell u

Mushu 8:28pm: never

Mushu 8:28pm: again

Mushu 8:29pm: i cant work tomorrow so mulan picked up my shift at 6 at night! tell him i said thank u plssss!!

Shang 8:44pm: You got it, Mushu. I hope you feel better!

Chapter Text

After a casual day of lounging around in River, which, admittedly, looked a bit more like trying not to micromanage every aspect of the gym, including his employees, Shang was pushed close to his breaking point near closing time. He was always on edge whenever Chi-Fu left Shang his Saturday report, but he needn’t worry, as in the end, Shang was always able to make up for any issues by Friday, the day before the cycle with Chi-Fu started all over again. They were usually minor infractions, anyway, Chi-Fu was just spiteful like that. Unfortunately, none of this relieved Shang of his stress.

Since these reports detailed every little infraction that Shang’s father wouldn’t stand to have in his gym, Shang made it a point to resolve any longer-term issues before his father’s monthly visit. And thus, Shang felt most at ease when everything was running smoothly, a fact that never did escape him, especially in moments when he was arguing with a client about wiping down the machines after use.

“Ma’am, we have sanitation stations at every section of equipment for you to utilize. It helps keep our gym clean—” Shang’s formal tone of speech was interrupted by the shrill sound of a long-haired blonde, white woman before him.

“I’ll have you know! I’ve never had an issue with leaving a machine unwiped at other gyms. I don’t know why you all feel the need to decide what I can and can’t do!”

The woman smiled cockily, “Especially when—” she paused for dramatic effect, “I don’t even sweat.”

The woman’s sheer bravado was all too much for Shang, who raised his hands to rub at his temples.

Misinterpreting his motions to mean violence, the woman shrieked, “I’m leaving! How dare you raise your hands to me! I’m never coming back here again!”

The woman before him hurriedly grabbed her gym bag, and made to leave, but not before shouting about how she “couldn’t find the exit,” because there were “too many exercise machines.”

Shang sighed in relief, happy she wouldn’t be coming back. That wasn’t the kind of community him and his colleagues wanted to build at their gym. He wrote himself a sticky to tell Yao not to let that woman come in from this point on, particularly if he were to see her at the desk the next day, trying to sneak by, as though she hadn’t just disrespected the staff and their guidelines.

It wasn’t until Ling came by that Shang felt himself return to the present. He’d been mystified by the stupidity of rich people who felt as though they owned everything around them, employees included.

Ling made noise when he saw Shang’s blank stare. “Ah, I know that look. So, you encountered the lovely Karen, did you? She’s such a… delight.”

Ling’s sneer, combined with his gaze being fixed on a point in the distance, stunned Shang into laughter, which in turn made Ling laugh. This sweet moment between the two of them gave Shang a chance to decompress.

It was hard, being stressed over his father, his livelihood, his passion, his friends, his everything, all the time. It wore him down. Times like these, he was very grateful for the support and love of his friends. Ling, standing before him, had an earnest expression, and Shang felt his heart swell with affection.

Thinking back to the point that the other Messy Movers had told him he was closed off, Shang considered that maybe it was time for him to show his hand. Maybe not every day, all the time, but on occasion. This moment certainly felt appropriate. He felt good, and so vulnerability came easily.

“You know, Ling, I’m really happy you’re my friend,” Shang said shyly.

Upon hearing Shang’s sentiment, Ling pressed a hand to his chest, mouth open in surprise. Respectfully, he quickly collected himself. “Well, Shang, I never thought you’d use the big ‘f-word’ to describe us.”

Seeing Shang’s embarrassment, Ling backtracked. “I don’t actually mean that, ya big softie. I figured you’d be open with me when you were ready. I’m happy you’re my friend too.”

Shang sighed in relief. Smiling at one another, Ling winked and said, “Thanks for that, Shang. I know it’s not always easy being emotionally constipated.” Stepping away, Ling continued. “I’ll catch you later, right? I’d stay here, but I’ve got a class to teach in ten. Love you!”

Ling rushed off, before Shang could respond to the intimate statement. Not that he would have been able to, as he was floundering for a potential response that didn’t invalidate the love between him and Ling, but that also didn’t expose Shang’s vulnerable emotional underbelly. He couldn’t do it twice in one day.

Yet again, Shang wondered about his friends’ inner lives. Shang made a mental note to have his friends over for a homemade dinner one of these coming days. It’d be nice to show his affection for all his friends, at once, in a way he felt much more confident in. He never was a great wordsmith.

Feeling bolstered by his conversation with Ling, Shang flew through the rest of his time at the gym, helping the boys lock up, and doing small tasks. Then, he decided he’d check out the café, as maybe Shang would be able to say hi to Mulan for a bit. He convinced himself that it wasn’t like he saw Mulan, nearly every day. (He did.)

Biking over to the café, a sense of dread slowly descended on Shang, like a thick cloud. As he arrived, people were filling up the café in a way he had yet to see in the weeks he had been patronizing the business. Without Mushu, Mulan was surely drowning in a wave of needy, unhappy customers. After parking his bike at the bike rack, Shang opened the doors to the café, trying to worm his way through the mass of patrons.

Upon seeing the gym manager, Mulan called out to him. “Shang! I’m so glad you’re here! Mushu’s sick, and he’s the one who usually takes the evening rush. I never take this shift, for good reason,” Mulan said through a gritted smile.

A line of customers was snaking through the store, and Mulan’s two other coworkers were running around as quickly as possible, trying to keep up with the demand.

Shang edged over to the counter, attempting to assert that he was not cutting in line, but rather speaking to those on staff.

“Jeez louise, Mulan, I didn’t think it’d be so full this late in the day,” he said, ignoring the dirty looks directed his way. It seemed as though the customers didn’t realize, or didn’t care, that Shang wasn’t actually ordering anything.

Mulan continued as if he hadn’t heard Shang, his eyes glazed over as he looked out at the sea of people. “They can smell fear. Don’t look them in the eyes, Shang.”

Shang tried to hold back laughter at the thought of these caffeine-deprived customers being nearly bloodthirsty for a dose of their favorite beverages, saying, “I won’t, don’t worry.” His dread had dissipated at the sheer drama Mulan put into his voice.

Shang chanced a look behind him, only to realize the line of customers was indeed quite cranky waiting for their late evening coffee remedy. His dread clutched at him again. Some were hurriedly tapping away at their phones, surely writing one-star reviews for the long wait. Others were tapping their feet instead, huffing loudly, as if it would somehow improve the efficiency of the service. It was a recipe for disaster, the risk of innocent employees losing their jobs over a petty complaint, or someone getting harassed, was too high for Shang’s liking.

Shang audibly huffed. There were three people working to satisfy at least twenty peoples’ needs. They were doing their absolute best, and yet Mulan, Khan, and their friend Rachelle, were sinking. Shang felt a call to help, his dread falling away to make room for a burst of initiative.

He stood up suddenly from his seat at the counter, and requested, “Mulan. Teach me how to make these drinks. I’m going to help you. You guys can’t do this by yourselves.”

Mulan turned around, midway through making a frappuccino, eyes wide. “Shang, I can’t ask you to do that!” he said, fiercely. Looking to his coworker, he asked confidently, “We can do this by ourselves, right?” Rachelle looked over from her position by the window, closed her eyes, and shook her head slowly.

Shang smiled good-naturedly, saying, “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to teach me, Mulan. Let me help, please?”

Meanwhile, Khan cleaning up a spilt drink, yelled from across the room, to the chagrin of nearby customers, “Mulan, Shang is OFFERING us some help! Please don’t be a dick and turn him down!”

Mulan sighed, whisked away the drink he had finished making, and called the customer’s name who was assigned to the order. Jogging back over to the other end of the counter, he slammed his hands down in front of where Shang was standing. Shang’s bravado had since deflated, especially when faced with Mulan being so intense, and so close to his face.

Mulan didn’t look him in the eyes, but relented, saying, “Fine. But grab an apron first, and be quick.”

Mulan wiped his hands on a rag and went to take the next person’s order, while others in line continued to grumble, further disgruntled by all the commotion. Some did seem heartened though by the idea of an additional pair of hands working to make their drinks.

Shang lifted the slab of wood separating the staff area from the customers, and looked to his right to find a wall hook, full of aprons at the ready. Sliding one off the hook, Shang went to tie it around his waist, only to find that it was comedically too small for his large, muscular build. Blushing, Shang cleared his throat, attempting to call for Mulan, in order to ask if there were any larger aprons.

Before he could get any words out, Mulan turned around, his eyes widening, and his mouth slackening a bit. Shaking himself out of his stupor after a moment’s pause, Mulan waved him over, silencing any objections Shang was going to make.

“You’re like an oaf, or rather, a giant, Shang. Let’s hope that is an advantage for you rather than a hindrance here, considering our workspace isn’t the most accessible!”

Mulan immediately jumped into explaining how each of the machines worked, demoing only one of the four that were relevant for what Shang could operate with minimal training. Rachelle jumped into action, taking orders, hollering each request to the duo when needed, while Mulan tutored Shang on the devices.

When it came time to demo the most special machine of all, the cappuccino maker, Mulan made sure to suggest, “When using this one, don’t use too much force. The cappuccino is strong, but it requires a light touch to be made. Watch.”

Mulan’s fingers possessed a strength and grace that was unmatched, fiddling away with the levers to make sure the appropriate amount of each ingredient was dispensed. Shang was deeply interested in the process, taking the time to observe carefully.

When he reached out a hand to try it himself, he realized halfway through turning a lever that he was using too much force, and he felt a warm hand touch his. Mulan was so close, here, that Shang could almost feel the warmth of the other man.

Shang could feel heat rising to his cheeks again, and dragged his eyes away from the contraption to meet the other man’s gaze. A bolt of electricity seemed to run through his skin, feeling overstimulated with such light touches. When Shang’s eyes met Mulan’s, he found a depth there he wasn’t expecting. The intensity of his gaze was compelling, seemingly calling for Shang to lean forward, to look more deeply into Mulan’s eyes.

He could hear soft puffs of breath that came from Mulan’s mouth, his breathing seeming to slow, along with time. It was just the two of them, holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes now.

Something shifted between them, and Shang was inches away from Mulan’s face. Mulan’s eyelids slowly fell, his face pinking up. His hand still sat softly on Shang’s, his fingers wrapped around the other man’s skin, with the original intention of working to lift some of the weight of Shang’s hand in order to perfect the cup of cappuccino he was making.

Instead, the two men were closer than they had ever been before, the cappuccino now long forgotten. Shang could almost feel the other man’s mouth on his own, his lips full and plush before his. Mulan’s hair was tied up today, flyaways escaping his elastic, lending him a softness and gentleness that seemed at odds with the cheeky comments that Shang had encountered when first popping into the café earlier that evening. Regardless, Shang loved both aspects of him, the bold and shy alike.

Seconds passed like minutes, the two of them leaning into one another, Shang’s pulse beating into his throat, butterflies filling his ribs. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but he was ready for whatever it would be. The electric feel of his skin started to spread, his mouth nearly tingling at the proximity to Mulan’s.

It wasn’t until Mulan began to ask, “Is it okay if—” that the world around them whirled back into existence. Everything came flying back in Technicolor. The sounds of the machines had receded, the crabby customers, everything. The only things that had mattered was Mulan and the fact that he was holding Shang’s hand.

Khan lifted the barrier between customers and staff and stood next to the pair, only to shout, “We have twenty-five customers to serve! The two of you making googly eyes at one another is not helping!”

Mulan’s hand immediately let go of Shang’s, as the two of them jumped nearly out of their skin at the interruption. The two men flushed deeply, and Shang turned back towards the cappuccino maker, heart still in his throat, with Mulan stating, “I wasn’t, I didn’t mean to—”

Scared Mulan would say something that would break the majesty of their special moment, Shang quietly said, “It’s okay, Mulan. Let’s make this cappuccino, yeah?”

Mulan nodded, making his way back over, observing the process to make sure everything ran smoothly, until Shang had successfully brewed his first cup.

The tables had turned, between the two of them. Shang was on new ground. He had never been the confident one before, when interacting with Mulan.

Maybe that was because Mulan had never been visibly affected before, by or during any of the conversations the two of them had. Why was this one any different? Mulan had seemed uncomfortable with their closeness when the fact was brought to his attention. Hopefully, Shang hadn’t done something wrong.

When the cup finished brewing, Mulan clapped his hands together, seemingly back to normal. “Congratulations, Shang! You’ve successfully passed Coffee Brewing 101!” His sunny demeanor was contagious, and Shang found himself smiling back.

“Amazing! Let me make a design on this one, and it can be served for…” Mulan whirled around, addressing the line of people standing before the countertop, “our next customer!”

The customer at the front sighed, stating, “If it weren’t for how good the coffee is here, I wouldn’t be coming back,” rolling their eyes. Once they received their order, they dropped a tip in the jar, heading out, and taking their cup with them. Khan congratulated Shang on his tip, who beamed with pride.

Everything ran smoothly from then on, Shang and Mulan running orders like a dream team, and Rachelle and Khan revolving cleaning and order-taking. Slowly but surely, the number of incoming customers dwindled. They were finally catching up on the number of patrons in the establishment.

Finally, when they were down to the last few customers, Mulan and Shang were able to work together on orders again, like the first cup Shang had completed. Then, it came down to the last customer, and Rachelle told Shang, “Make me a caramel frapp, please! I deserve it after this long ass shift!” While she herself made the final customer’s raspberry iced tea order.

Mulan stuck to himself in the corner, doing something alone. When Shang was finished adding whipped cream to Rachelle’s drink, who happily accepted the beverage with thankful hands, he tried to peek at what Mulan was making, but was shooed away. He ambled over to sit with Khan and Rachelle at a table near the café’s fireplace, as they were resting from the difficult hours they had just undergone.

Rachelle was peacefully sipping from her frapp, clearly at ease, now that the café was officially closed, and all there was left to do was to clean up and make sure everything was put away and ready for the morning crew. Khan held her hand to her chin, clearly trying to stay awake, but failing. Shang, sitting across from the pair, nodded his head towards Khan, and Rachelle nodded, taking the hint.

“Hey,” Rachelle shook Khan, “Get up, sleepyhead. Let’s go home. Mulan and Shang have got it covered.”

Rachelle made a move to get up from her chair, with Khan’s drooping eyelids doing her no favors, as she tried to follow Rachelle’s lead. Grabbing Khan’s shoulder, and allowing Khan to lean her weight on her, Rachelle wrapped an arm around the other woman, Khan’s head lolling onto the groove between her neck and shoulder.

“Thanks, Rachelle. You know I love you, right?” Khan’s quiet voice echoed in the empty café, as the two of them made their way towards the doors, Rachelle still sipping from her drink with her free hand.

A beat passed, and Khan yawned. “I can take that back if it weirds you out.”

Rachelle pushed open the front doors, responding with a quiet, but steady, “Love you too, Khan.” She looked back at the café, speaking into the night, “Goodnight guys! And thanks for the drink, Shang!”

“Any time, Rachelle! Get home safe!”

“Yeah, call if you need anything, okay?” Mulan’s voice joined the chorus.

Khan waved a floppy hand, and left with her loved one. Shang returned his focus to the sticky, coffee-and-tea-stained tables before him, bracing himself for a good additional thirty minutes of cleaning. But before he could get up to grab a rag, Mulan was lightly tapping him on the shoulder, proffering a cup of, presumably decaffeinated, tea.

“You deserve this, after everything you did for us today. You were amazing out there, Shang. I really, really appreciate it.” Shang gently took the mug from his hands, reveling in the warmth of the beverage that had been made, just for him. His heart melted at the thought.

The butterflies from their close encounter returned, as the realization that they were alone dawned upon him. Mulan batted a flyaway from his face, moving to sit across from Shang. Shang was still working to produce words, as he was deeply touched by the gesture from this man that he had come to like so deeply.

Mulan’s brow was soft, his expression open, as he looked upon Shang’s face. Words finally came to him, and with them, Shang made sure to thank his friend for the gift.

“Thank you. I’m just happy to be of help. It’s important to me that the people I care about are feeling safe. My dad made sure to instill that in me, growing up. ‘Always be of help to your fellow person.’” Mulan’s brows lifted; his interest piqued. Shang laughed. “He still brings it up time to time, even now.”

“Well, I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say that you were a massive help today. So, tea.” Mulan nodded his head toward the mug, which Shang had already sipped from, ruining the heart artwork that Mulan was gracious enough to design on the foam. Shang was so grateful to have such a considerate, talented friend.

After some beats of silence, Mulan asked, “Are you close with your father?” His face remained open, his curiosity clear.

Shang contemplated, staring into the milky brown of his mug. “I…” he started, only to trail off. He cleared his throat. “I like to think so, but there’s things he’ll never know about me.” Looking away, he said, “He just wouldn’t get it.”

Pasting a small smile to his face, Shang turned the question back around. “Do you have family you’re close with?”

Mulan smiled. “I’m sure you’re not asking about chosen family, but I’ll let you slide. I’m really close with Khan and Mushu, if you couldn’t already tell. Rachelle is pretty great too. Oh, can’t forget Cricket, either.” He paused, considering. “And a few of my friends from college.”

Mulan seemed nervous, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “But of course, you haven’t met them yet!” Mulan’s laugh turned solemn, his hand dropping to his lap. He didn’t make eye contact. He took a deep breath.

“After I let my given family in on my truth, they didn’t take it well. They were fine with loving me from afar, but, that wasn’t good enough for me.” Mulan’s eyebrows stitched together, his look of confusion evident. “Sometimes I wonder, like, did they ever love me at all?”

Shang felt that resonate in his bones. It was hard to imagine a world where his dad knew everything, and still agreed to remain in his life. But then again, what did that say about his fatherly love, if it had conditions such as those?

“They actually took me to a matchmaker; when I was sixteen. They thought that by encouraging me to marry a straight man, I would be happy as a woman. But I wasn’t, nothing was going to change that, you know?”

He laughed mirthlessly. “I remember staring at my reflection, full of makeup, and not recognizing the person before me. Wondering if I would ever be the perfect daughter. And I wouldn’t be. I’m not their daughter, anymore. But I don’t think they’ve accepted that.”

Mulan swiped a hand across his cheek. “Wiping off the makeup they had put on me was so much bolder than the makeup itself. I’d much rather do my own makeup, thank you!

It wasn’t until I cut my hair off and left home that they believed in my autonomy. Fucking sucked that it took that for them to believe me, but.” He looked down at his hands. “They still call once in a while, but I don’t rely on them for anything.”

Mulan’s eyes met Shang’s, searching for something. “I’ve made my own way in the world, thanks to me, myself, and I.”

It seemed like he found whatever he was looking for, because then Mulan’s smile started to return. “I’m too busy being gay, trans, and happy, to think about my given family.” Shang blushed.

Despite his resolution to not crush on Mulan, it was hard not to. His charm and effervescence made Shang smile, even in the most difficult of times. His strength and grace were so magnetic. But Shang was more than happy to maintain their friendship. Mulan was an incredible friend. There wasn’t a chance that Mulan would feel the same, anyway.

Mulan then reached up to his hair elastic, and took down his hair. His middle part allowed wavy tendrils to frame his face. Mulan was absolutely stunning, but didn’t seem to realize his own appeal. Shang was starting to sweat, so in the interest of maintaining his composure and reputation as an upstanding friend, he continued conversing.

“I’m so happy you’ve found people who love you as you are. I hope I can one day join the ranks of your chosen family!” Realizing the intensity of what he just said, Shang clapped a hand to his mouth, his blush intensifying. His formal tone and matters of speech could be so bothersome sometimes. Mulan laughed loudly, his head drawing backward, exposing the tender flesh of his neck. Shang looked away. It wasn’t right to see Mulan so vulnerably.

“Oh, Shang. If only you knew.” Mulan smiled gently, having gained his poise. Shang rubbed the back of his scalp sheepishly.

“So, what are you up to tonight? Shouldn’t you be heading home? It’s almost eleven at night.” Mulan’s statement sparked a realization in Shang that not only had he still not eaten dinner tonight, but he also had to be up early the next day to be at the gym in time. Accepting the fact that he would simply have a late night tonight, Shang got up from his chair to grab a rag.

“You know what? Why don’t we clean up here, and then we can go get some pizza? I know this really great 24-hour pizza place down the road from here.” Looking impressed, Mulan got up as well, walking over to the counter to grab himself a rag.

“That sounds like a really great idea, Shang.” Mulan’s face turned mischievous. “Or should I call you, Gentle Giant?”

Shang pushed down the urge to squeal in boyish excitement over what was now their inside joke, small and special, just for the two of them. It was these moments, big and little, that made all the world to him.

They got to cleaning, Mulan’s chit-chatting and the soft sound of fabric gliding over plastic and wood being the only sounds in the empty café. They were finally finished a half hour later, when Mulan wiped sweat from his brow, and unexpectedly tossed his rag behind the counter.

“Are we, uh, allowed to do that?” Shang asked.

“We can, after the night we’ve had!” Mulan said cheerily. “Go on, it’s really okay.”

Shang then tossed a rag, underhanded, behind the counter. Looking back at Mulan, his smile was beaming. His tanned skin and midnight-dark hair made his eyes sparkle in the low lighting of the café. Mulan’s bright grin and dense frame were breathtaking. Shang needed to work on being less affected by the beauty of his friend. Smiling to himself, he spoke out loud to change his focus.

“Are you still up for some pizza, Mulan?”

Mulan laughed. “Thought you’d never ask.”

By the time they had arrived at the pizza place, it was quite late at night, but Shang and Mulan were talking away anyway. A bell rang at the top of the door when they entered, the small building only holding two tables, as they were a take-out only place.

Mulan shouldered Shang gently upon noticing. “I can’t bring you home with me, Mushu would kill me if I let you see him in his current state.”

“That’s fine. We’ll order two pizzas, one for you, one for me, and we can take them over to my apartment. Are you comfortable with that?” Shang walked up to the counter. “What are you thinking, one buffalo and one cheese?”

“Ooo, so you’re inviting me to your place! I wish I had known beforehand; I would have packed a much cuter outfit in my car to change into! And those sound fine, thank you, Shang.” Mulan’s trademark smirk had his cheek dimpling, his long eyelashes fluttering. With effort, Shang was able to break eye contact, opting instead to look at the cashier, placing their order and settling down at a table to wait.

Pulling out his phone, Mulan tapped away at his keyboard. Feeling self-conscious, Shang took out his own phone to look like he was doing something. In reality, he was checking Snapchat, only to see Yao and Po having a fabulous time baking brownies, hours before. Ling was nowhere to be found, which meant that he was probably in class earlier in the evening. He’d been taking community college courses in his free time, in hopes to move from his current field to nursing.

Before long, Mulan was giggling at something on his phone, the noise twinkly and light. At Shang’s confused expression, he seemed to giggle harder, before finally snorting.

Immediately, his laughter died down, and he covered his mouth with his hands, self-conscious.

“That was very wholesome, Mulan. I didn’t know you snort when you laugh that hard!”

Mulan blushed. “Not as wholesome as this!” Passing his phone across the table, Shang could see on the screen a filtered image of Shang with huge glasses and a tiny head. Upon seeing himself, Shang laughed. Of course, Mulan had been trying to take a candid picture of Shang for his own nefarious purposes.

Soon after, their pizzas were ready. Carrying them out to the car, Mulan offered Shang the chance to drive, but ultimately, Shang became navigator, while Mulan drove them to Shang’s.

Upon arriving, Mulan looked approvingly at the décor. “I didn’t think you had it in you to have such a cozy place, Shang! I guess you really are a gentle giant.”

At the mention of Shang’s nickname, Shang smiled, and grabbed the pizzas from Mulan, placing them on the countertop of his kitchen.

“You underestimate me, bro!”

From the living room, Mulan stared at Shang as though he had grown five heads, before giggling like a schoolboy. “I’ve never heard you say ‘bro’ before! Who taught you that?” Attempting to catch his breath, but failing, Mulan fell onto the couch, clutching his stomach from laughter, snorting away.

Shang, who had thought the late hour would protect him from such a laughing attack at this new word, had thought wrong. Sheepishly, Shang said, “Ling says it all the time, I thought I’d try it out.” Pointedly, he changed the subject, as Mulan wiped tears from his eyes. “So, let’s cut these pizzas? I can put something on the TV too, if you want.”

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” Mulan made his way over to the kitchen, his short stature clear in comparison to the height of the countertops. He seemed unfazed, however.

While Mulan picked out slices, Shang pulled out his phone, quickly texting the Messy Movers.

Shang 12:16am: Is anyone awake? Mulan’s at my apartment, and I want to put a movie on that won’t bore him to death!

Ling 12:16am: OMG OMG OMG YALL ITS HAPPENING

Po 12:17am: is it happening!!?

Shang 12:17am: Is what happening? Also, you guys are the worst. Help me, LOL?

Ling 12:17am: are u guys likeeee getting together??? also put that 1 movie on about the dancers

Shang 12:18am: Ling, no. We’re just friends. Also, he is looking at me, so I have to go okay bye

Ling 12:19am: theyre totally getting together theyre so cute

Po 12:20am: i’m so excited for them :’)) they deserve joy

Yao 12:21am: I second that. Also, go to bed guys, you both have work tomorrow morning

Ling 12:23am: fiiine. love u all

Po 12:23am: ditto!

Shang could feel his phone going off, but put it away in his pocket anyway, grabbing some slices of pizza, and following Mulan over to the living room couch. They didn’t talk much, opting instead to munch on their food in silence, as Shang navigated his streaming service to pull up the movie Ling had suggested.

The only sound was the hum of the kitchen appliances, and the soft noises of Mulan’s chewing, which amplified the low-grade nerves Shang had. Mulan was in his apartment, for the first time! He was spending time, for fun, with Shang! Eating pizza!

When Shang found the movie, Mulan hummed excitedly, sounding a lot like he was trying to speak with his mouth full. Shang laughed, amused by the fact that this man was so intent on watching this film that he was willing to shirk social norms.

Swallowing quickly, Mulan said, “I have been wanting to watch this movie for forever! I can’t wait to watch this with you!” Shang beamed.

Twenty minutes and two pizzas later, Mulan’s excitement was very much dampened by the fact that he had fallen flat asleep. After finishing their pizzas, Shang and Mulan had settled in for a comfortable movie viewing, between good friends. They were sitting at the opposite ends of the loveseat, only for Mulan to drift closer to Shang in his drowsiness. Eventually, before the movie’s conflict had even been fully introduced, Mulan’s mouth was open wide, light snores escaping his small body.

His chest expanded and contracted with each breath, his head lolling on Shang’s shoulder, mirroring the same position Khan and Rachelle had been in, just hours earlier. This time, however, there was not a previous understanding of mutual feelings. Shang pushed down any romantic feelings he was experiencing, setting his butterflies free, as Mulan was not awake to discuss what this feeling Shang was experiencing meant between them. Rather, Shang reveled in the security and trust that Mulan had placed in him, in the beauty of their loving friendship. Sighing, Shang relaxed into the plush of the couch, feeling the cushions squeeze him tight, as he watched an exciting movie with a sweet man.

By the time Mulan woke up, startling out of his sleep, it was halfway through the credits, and Shang was halfway through frantically typing out a message to the group chat, full of question marks and stressed emojis. There was a small, unfounded worry wiggling into a corner of his mind that Mulan would simply never wake up, and if that was the case, then what would he do, and the rest of his mind was occupied with the fact that he really may have fallen in love with Mulan after spending these hours with him.

He was beautiful when he was serenely sleeping, his eyebrows smoothed out, his high cheekbones sparkling in the light, the tan of his skin complemented by the color of his shirt. His eyelashes lying flat against his cheeks, was a sight to behold. Shang was mesmerized, every time he set eyes on Mulan. He briefly considered laying a hand on his cheek, just to feel what it would be like, to caress his friend as a lover would, and immediately threw aside the idea. It would be creepy to do that, on so many levels. He reminded himself again, of friendship, of love, of trust. They were not together; they wouldn’t ever be. They just weren’t like that.

In a second after Shang had thrown aside his contemplation, Mulan’s eyes flew open, seemingly alarmed at the fact that he was not at home. Rushing away from Shang’s side, he flapped his hands, trying to grasp at his location, before suddenly seeming to realize where he was, and automatically grew visibly more relaxed.

Mulan sighed, “How late is it? I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I honestly might have to stay here, or have you drive me home. I’m horrible at staying awake after I’ve nodded off like I did. If that makes you uncomfortable, I can call up Rachelle and have her take me home in my car, or—”

Mulan was about to spiral, getting keyed up again, so Shang cut him off, saying, “You’re totally welcome to stay here. Just know that there’s only one bedroom, so you’re welcome to take the bed, and I can take the couch. I just washed my sheets today; I haven’t even stepped foot in that room since making my bed this morning.”

The look of gratitude in Mulan’s eyes had Shang’s ribs aching. “Thank you, so so much, Shang. This means so much to me. Can I hug you? Would that be okay?”

Shang nodded, and Mulan rushed into his arms, winding his limbs around Shang’s torso, pressing his face into his shoulder, like before, mumbling into his shirt, “Thank you, Shang,” over and over again.

Shang spoke, saying, “Anything for you, Mulan,” but his words were drowned out by Mulan’s rushing off to Shang’s bedroom, where Shang’s mattress squeaked from Mulan’s weight, drowning out Shang’s saccharine words. Mulan then fell asleep in his street clothes, in a matter of minutes, without even pulling back the comforter.

Laughing at the sight of Mulan sleeping in jeans, Shang went over to his linen closet, and prepared his own couch-bed for the night, happy to be of service to Mulan, in whatever ways he needed. He was filled with love, feeling grounded and safe, like he did after a good workout. Tucking himself in, he drifted away to dreams of a palm pressed to his, of lips kissing his knuckles, warm and firm.

Black eyes and a curtain of midnight-colored hair took center stage, the electricity of the night filling his veins like the caffeine from a cup of espresso.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Shang woke up to an empty place. Mulan had snuck out without waking Shang, just to leave before daybreak.

But, that was fine. Shang hadn’t expected Mulan to head out so early, but he wasn’t going to lose sleep over it. It stung a bit to know that Mulan didn’t want to see him in the morning, after all the time they had shared together, happy as could be. Thinking more deeply on it, Mulan surely had an early morning shift at the café. He hadn’t been uncomfortable spending time at Shang’s.

After a mostly uneventful day at the gym, motivation started to lag for him and his friends as closing time neared. Shang sat at the front desk, waiting to check in the next person that were to walk through the doors. Hearing quick footsteps, Shang knew that Ling was walking over to him. Upon arrival, Ling’s reedy voice rang loudly, as he said, “Tell. Me. EVERYTHING! I want details, Li Shang, details!”

Blushing deeply, Shang replied, “There’s nothing to tell, we watched a movie, he fell asleep, and he was gone by the time I woke up.”

“What’s this about being deserted?” Yao shuffled up to the desk, leaning an elbow on the countertop, in front of Shang.

Shang, narrowing his eyes, joked, “Don’t you both have jobs to do?” Ling waved a hand in the air noncommittally.

“Sure, yeah, whatever. So, you guys went on a date?” Ling said.

Shang sighed, his skin starting to cool back down. “No, it wasn’t a date. He’s just… really pretty. And smart, and funny. And he has really good taste in movies. I’m just really lucky to have such a great friend. I still can’t believe that he actually fell asleep at my apartment, you know?”

Yao spoke, his gruff voice echoing through the lobby, “That’s a great sign that he really trusts you, Shang. So this is the guy that you’re interested in, not Po, right?” The sound of Ling choking his water made Yao laugh. “Everything’s falling into place! I’m all caught up now. So, why don’t you tell him that you think he’s pretty? It’s clear that he likes you back.”

Ling, having swallowed his water successfully this time, cleared his throat. “Do we know the same person, Yao? This is the same guy who, for months, couldn’t get the courage to ask about our coffee runs, because he ‘didn’t want to bother us,’ despite being our manager. I highly doubt he has the capability to stop his heart-eyes for long enough to get the words out!” A woman was waiting to be signed in, standing in front of the desk, as Shang, Ling, and Yao talked about Shang’s love life.

Shang looked to the ceiling, pulling himself together enough to greet the woman and scan her membership card. Thanking him, she went off in the direction of Po’s yoga class. Ling started back up the moment she left, saying, “If you wanna bet on Mulan or Shang being the first one to admit they like each other, I’m down to bet, Yao.”

Yao, never one to turn down a wager, smiled, sticking out his hand to shake on their terms. Shang, ever-suffering, rested his face on his fist, watching the two of them potentially profit off his unrequited crush. “You guys do know that Mulan doesn’t like me back, right?”

Ling stopped in his tracks, in the middle of chatting about logistics, to stop and stare at Shang as though he had four heads. “Shang, have you seen the way he looks at you? He fell asleep at your place. That’s romantic behavior!”

“Au contraire, I’ve fallen asleep at your place, Ling,” Yao said smugly, pleased that he potentially undid Ling’s argument, regardless of its content.

Ling directed his stare at Yao. “That was at my birthday party, you doofus. Ugh, neither of you know anything about romance. You’re lucky I love you both,” Ling scoffed, as he turned on his heel and left.

“Oh, he’s right. That was his party! Well, you get my point, Shang, right?” Shang didn’t, so he just put his head in his hands. His friends were useless. Yao slapped him on the back. “Go get ‘em, tiger! I see him now, so I’ll leave you two alone.”

Seeing the man of his dreams had Shang dry throat quietly clicking as he tried to swallow the ball of nerves in his throat, bracing himself to see Mulan post-date. Mulan looked like he was positively walking on air, his hair slickly pulled back into a neat pony, a cropped athletic shirt sitting above a high-waisted pair of leggings, a blush high on his cheeks as he made eye contact with Shang. Shang closed his eyes for a split second longer than necessary in order to compose himself at the sight of Mulan looking so elegant and ready to work with Shang for their personal training session for the day. Mulan, ever confident, smiled openly at Shang, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. “What’s up, Shang?” His lashes fluttered. Shang tried to remember how to breath.

“Not much, about to switch with Po for the front desk,” Shang scratched at the back of his neck. “Here he comes now.”

Po’s eyes lit up at the sight of Mulan, welcoming him to the gym, “Welcome, Mulan! Good to see you!”

“Hi, Po, good to finally meet the man I’ve heard so much about,” Mulan said softly. “Happy to be here; I love a good work-out after a long week.” Turning to Shang, he said, “You ready, Shang?”

Shang’s feet felt cemented to the floor; he watched Po set up his water bottle and phone charger for his shift at the check-in desk, without getting up. It wasn’t until Po gently wrapped his arms around Shang that he felt himself grounded again. “Have fun, Shang!” he said in his genuine way, the soft plushness of his skin holding Shang’s fractured pieces together into wholeness again.

“Thank you, Po,” Shang said, as he got up from his chair, wobbly. Mulan didn’t seem to notice, though, happy to follow Shang to a personal training room in order to start Mulan’s hour of movement for the day. “So, how’s Mushu?” Shang asked, as they meandered over together to the room.

“He’s doing a lot better now that he’s taken some time off! He’s been bonding with Cricket, which is always nice, and Khan stopped by with some flowers. They really brightened up the living room!” Mulan’s skin was almost glowing with his smile, staring intently at Shang as Shang opened the door to the training area. Clearing his throat, he pushed open the door, Shang feeling self-conscious as he felt his arm flex. He could see Mulan’s eyes dart there at the movement, and Shang blushed at the attention. Walking over to the crate of mats in the corner, Mulan bent over to pick one up, and Shang made sure to busy himself by setting up his phone to connect to the sound system in the room to break up the quiet of the room.

It seemed as though nothing could take Mulan’s smile from his face, and he kept close to Shang as Shang darted around the room for anything to busy himself from remembering how adorable Mulan was, sleeping on his shoulder.

Eventually, they had warmed up to lifting. Mulan’s form needed correcting, in order to prevent injury, and with consent, Shang began to touch Mulan’s arms to help move them to the correct hold. Feeling Mulan’s skin underneath his fingers had Shang sweating, feeling a smooth sheen of sweat, whispers of ideas floating through Shang’s mind.

Mulan’s teeth gripped his bottom lip, his eyes closed in concentration as Shang slid his hand down Mulan’s arm, down to his shoulder. Shang wanted to kiss him, to have Mulan set aside the weighted bar and hold his face in revelation, pressing his mouth to his own. He wanted to feel the velvet of Mulan’s hair tickling his stomach as they lay together on a lazy Sunday afternoon, he wanted to cook with Mulan, hold him from behind while Mulan tossed noodles in a pan. He wanted a life with his friend, a world of wonder and joy, built together.

Mulan breathed out, setting the weights down gently. “Shang, you okay? You zoned out for a second,” Mulan said, glancing over at Shang. Shang cleared his throat again, chastising himself for letting his thoughts run away.

“Sorry about that, I was thinking about my plans for the weekend,” Shang said, “That wasn’t professional of me.”

Mulan laughed, “You’re fine, Shang. I just wanted to make sure that I didn’t send you into some sort of existential crisis with how bad my form was.” Shang laughed, and felt himself return back to normal, even if Mulan was extra beautiful in his crop top.

Towards the end of their session, Mulan was asking about how to improve his form in yoga, as he had plans to attend another one of the yoga classes offered by Coursing River, but wanted to make sure his form was good enough to follow along without being held up. Shang had found himself pressing a gentle hand to Shang’s back, helping him arch his back to improve his cat-cow pose.

Shang was extremely close to Mulan, and he was hyperaware of the fact that it was just like during class, but they were alone, with just the soft sounds of pop music playing in the background. Mulan’s cropped shirt had risen, revealing a sliver of brown skin that Shang resolutely avoided. Mulan flipped his pony, looking behind his shoulder at Shang, smiling openly. Shang blushed, saying, “You’re doing great, your weight distribution is so much better this time!”

Mulan’s response was confident, “Thank you, Shang. I really appreciate all your help. You’re so kind to me.” Shang released his grip from Mulan’s body, and Mulan slowly made to get up, finding himself close to Shang’s face. Shang smiled back at Mulan, as Mulan looked deeply into his eyes, moving his hand to touch Shang’s cheek as Po knocked quietly on the door, reminding Shang that they were closing for the night. Mulan laughed again, unbothered by the disruption, and Shang’s face heated. They separated, and Mulan gathered his things, and Shang walked him out, the two of them walking in companionable silence, their matching sleepiness evident with the closing of the day, the dark of the night calming as Shang waved goodbye to Mulan from the front doors.

With the incoming of the end of the month, Chin-Fu, Shang’s supervisor was in overdrive trying to find any and all potential infractions to assign to Shang. With the laundry list of corrections to make to the gym, Shang informed the Messy Movers that he couldn’t get their morning coffees as he tried to pull the establishment together to meet Chin-Fu’s requirements. With that, it meant not seeing Mulan and Mushu as often, and by extension, Khan and Rochelle, but Shang knew that it was only temporary, and dedicated himself to cleaning the locker rooms, showers, and training rooms from top to bottom and left to right, in order to pass inspection with flying colors. Then, came the necessary organizing and reorganizing of materials, and making sure everyone was being paid down to the cent that they needed to be. It was tedious, and hard, but Shang was suited for the work, knowing that he had done it many times before, and could pull it off yet again. It was one of the few things that he felt he could trust himself about.

The Sunday of Shang’s ‘Hell Week,’ his final day of making sure the gym was in tip-top shape, he had collapsed at home, on his couch, going through the loads of notifications he had on his phone. Mulan had texted him, asking if everything was okay, considering Shang hadn’t stopped by the coffee shop that week, but by the time Shang got home at the end of the days during his ‘Hell Week,’ he was too exhausted to remember that he had to respond. Mushu had also messaged him, asking if Shang was avoiding the Coffee Crew, as Shang’s other coworkers hadn’t mentioned anything on their coffee runs. It was clear from their individual messages, dated days apart, that Shang’s friends were genuinely concerned about him, and he hadn’t cleared up that concern. Shang decided it’d be best to take up the coffee responsibilities for the next morning and speak with his friends in person.

He’d get a call from his father, one of the few times a year they spoke, about his monthly evaluation, along with a warning for his upcoming annual evaluation from Chin-Fu. Shang was sure he’d pass with flying colors, but it wouldn’t be until the end of the day on Monday that he’d get the results. Chin-Fu would be slinking around the gym, his notepad and pencil in hand the entire time, jotting down imaginary infractions. It’d be better for the both of them if Shang took his sweet time at the coffeeshop. Shang rubbed a hand down his face. This job, while rewarding, could kick his anxiety into overdrive; it didn’t help that his friendships had suffered because of it. He remembered his breathing exercises, and quietly collected himself. The world would not end because of a week of overworking.

Maybe the world had ended because of a week of overworking. Shang woke up and got dressed, nerves twisting his belly, at the thought of speaking to his crush and clearing things up with the Coffee Crew.

Locking up his bike to the rack, Shang considered how to approach the situation. He wasn’t great at communicating; his dad had never been one to express his admiration, or his love, verbally. The only ways that Shang knew how to talk to someone else about his feelings was to blurt them out, due to his filter failing him in his bouts of anxiety, or to have other people figure it out, simply from his physical reaction of being near the person of his affections. Which had gotten worse with time. From meeting the magnetic Mulan in their first moments together at the coffee shop, to their time spent together since, Shang had fallen hard and fast, despite his best efforts. It was getting harder to hide from his now-friend. He considered the risks, yet again, of simply admitting his feelings. It’d probably be for the best to talk them through together, and just… move on with their friendship. They could endure it; their friendship was too valuable to lose over unrequited romantic feelings.

Taking a breath, Shang braced himself for the warm atmosphere of the coffeeshop, with its dim lighting in the early hours of the morning and the smell of brewing coffee wafting in the air. His heart stopped when he saw Mulan there, stunning as ever, crafting some concoction as Mushu tapped away at his phone. Shang smiled at Mulan, as his head popped up at the ringing of the bell sitting above the door. Mulan weakly smiled back, returning to the task at hand. Shang was sure the uncharacteristically muted greeting was because they hadn’t spoken since Mulan had visited Shang’s place.

Making his way over to the counter, Mushu looked up from his phone, a snarky tone coloring his words, “Who let you in here? We thought you’d died.” Mushu rolls his eyes, clearly peeved at the fact that Shang dropped off the face of the planet without so much as a warning. Mulan was quieter in his dissatisfaction, choosing to ignore Shang’s presence other than tiny glances.

Shang cringed. “Yeah, I deserve that. That’s why I’m here though, is to apologize for ghosting you guys. I’ve had a hell of a week.”

Mushu’s eyebrows raised. “Try me.” The corner of his mouth lifted.

Shang sighed, “My supervisor, for lack of a better word, sucks. He’s constantly looking for me to slip up at work, and every month I have to take a few days to clean the building top-down, and make sure every piece of paperwork has the ‘i’s dotted and the ‘t’s crossed. And since it’s almost the end of the year, I had to take even longer so that next month I don’t have to take off a whole entire two weeks trying to pick up each speck of dust that has ever existed so I can keep my gym.” Mushu stared back at him, a small smile on his face.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one breath. Congratulations, Shang.” Mushu’s face brightened, and he laughed. “I’m glad you got it all done. We were super worried about you though, so try to make time to send an ‘I’m all good!’ message, or have the boys from the gym let us know, okay? Ling may be a blabbermouth, but he didn’t tell me what was going on, even when I offered to make him free drinks,” Mushu pouted. “Happy to have you back, though. And maybe I’ll see you the next time I go work out,” he said with a wink. He went back to scrolling on his phone.

Meanwhile, looking miserable, Mulan was preparing what Shang had come to recognize as a caramel frapp. Shang tried to make conversation, saying, “Hey, I’m sorry about not being able to talk last week. Do you want to train with me for free this week to make up for it?”

Mulan’s reply was uncharacteristically cold, despite his friendly words. “It’s alright, I get it. You can’t always make time for your friends, right?” Shang knew something was off. Mushu elbowed Mulan, saying something in his ear. Mulan continued, “Actually, yeah, I’ll take you up on that offer. How does Wednesday afternoon sound?” It was the first time he had made eye contact with Shang since he’d arrived at the coffeeshop that day.

Shang tried not to sound overeager in his response, saying, “Perfect, I’ll text you to work out the details. And thanks for being so understanding. I really, really appreciate it.” Shang smiled. “And could I get the usual for me and the other trainers?”

Monday and Tuesday passed with little fanfare, as the gym easily passed inspection, as all of Chin-Fu’s infractions had been resolved by the time he officially completed his evaluation. Shang had secured the gym for another month. The Messy Movers had returned to their usual routine, getting their coffees in the mornings, hand-delivered by Shang. And Shang was back to his usual self, getting flustered by Mulan’s beauty when he showed up to their personal training session wearing the shortest shorts Shang had ever seen Mulan workout in, along with a different crop top, proving to be a lethal combination.

When he spotted Mulan getting out of his car in the parking lot, Shang nearly jumped over the counter of the check-in desk, nearly bowling over Ling in his efforts to get to the training room before Mulan. Shang began to do one-armed pushups, in order to focus his mental energy on the task at hand, rather than on how adorable Mulan looked in his outfit. The sound of the training door opening shook him out of his stupor, and he did a few more reps. Mulan leaned against the door, one hand on the door, one hand on his face, clearly thrown off by the sight of Shang working out.

Finishing his mini-work out session, Shang stands, adjusting his shirt. Clearing his throat, he says, “Mulan! Glad to see you here. Is there anything specific you wanted to work on today?”

Mulan’s legs are out, and Shang reminds himself to maintain eye contact. “Oh, don’t stop on my account, I have the rest of the day off, if you need to get some more reps in,” Mulan says, his voice husky.

Shang laughs, feigning confidence, “I’m fine, but thank you. We can just move on to whatever you wanted to work on today.”

Their training session goes on without a hitch, but it becomes clear to Shang that he’s going to have to confess his feelings for Mulan sooner rather than later, as being in close proximity to Mulan, with his raspy voice, minimal clothing, and sweat-shined skin, was making him feel as though he was going to combust. Before long, their session is over, and Mulan brushes a hand across Shang’s shoulder, “Lint,” he says as way of explanation. Shang can feel the warm sensation for the rest of the day, even after Mulan leaves. He still remembers seeing Mulan’s slick hand brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. Shang made a promise to himself. He’d let Mulan know on Sunday, when they had scheduled to hang out again. Mulan had every right to know what Shang felt about him. Maybe he could work out a script with Po ahead of time; he always knew the right things to say.

Friday rolled around, and the Messy Movers resumed their usual gay bar shenanigans of dancing and gossiping with a feature from Shang sitting at a table pretending he doesn’t want to dance. The boys were enjoying themselves, sipping at their drinks, while the club started to wind up for the night. There were a few performances, and Shang made sure to tip the performers himself, getting a pep talk from the other men beforehand. After the performances ended, the drag performers going backstage to change clothes and make their way into the mess of people, more people started to arrive, ready to dance.

It wasn’t until Ling spoke, “Your man’s here, Shang!” in a sing-song voice, however, that Shang realized that the Coffee Crew were included in the latest group entering the seating area.

Ducking his head, Shang tried not to make eye contact. He’d never seen Mulan at the same time as him at the nightclub, and he hadn’t prepared his script for admitting his feelings. Shang hadn’t mentally prepared himself for this scenario, so his best bet would be to hide away. Unfortunately, Po took it upon himself to invite the Coffee Crew over to the table, where he proceeded to introduce himself to everyone. Shang hoped his cheeks weren’t clearly red in the darkness.

His mouth went dry at the sound of Mulan introducing himself, his button-down open nearly all the way, exposing the firm lines of his chest, deep brown scars sitting underneath his pecs, skin glittering gold under the dim lights of the bar lighting. Shang was in deep, and knew it was now, or never, to tell Mulan how he felt about him. Before he could work up the courage, Ling was pulling him and Mushu to the dance floor, with Po and Rachelle in tow; Khan and Yao had seemed to strike up a conversation about something or other back at their table.

Before long, Shang was sweating, laughing at Mushu cringing at the DJ mix of the latest electropop single that was out reverberating through the building. Mulan, swaying his hips, leaned in to Shang’s ear, saying, “I actually really like this mix, but you know Mushu, he’s picky!”

Shang just nodded, too flustered to respond with words of any real significance. Mushu and Ling were dancing closely, Ling’s arms wrapped around Mushu’s neck. Shang eyed them, and elbowed Mulan lightly, who simply shrugged in response. “Never say never, Mr. Gentle Giant,” he shouted with a smile.

Shang, trying to keep up with the ever-changing tempo of the music, leaned in, emboldened by their inside joke. “You know, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that, Mulan,” Shang said over the thumping of the bass. He could feel it in his ribs, the flashing lights illuminating Mulan’s elaborate eye makeup and dangling earring, which only served to make him ever-more stunning. Po caught Shang’s eye, and winked, Rachelle fist pumping beside him to the beat of the song.

Shang took another breath, but when he looked back to Mulan, there was a concern in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Actually, you know what?” Shang grabbed Mulan’s hand. “Let’s head back to the table; it’ll be quieter there.” Mulan nodded, his shoulders hunched, as Shang led him back to the seating area.

Po and Rachelle had migrated to the bar seating, sipping on drinks and bonding over, from what Shang could hear, wrestling icons. Sitting down at their table, Mulan and Shang looked at each other. Shang swallowed, gathering all of his non-existent confidence. “So, uh, I wanted to start with, you look great. Like, really really great,” he squeaked out. Mulan brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, his head low. “And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Shang paused, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans. “I really like you, Mulan. And I’m so sorry to tell you this, when you’re trying to have a night out, but I do. I liked you from the moment I met you, picking up coffee for the guys, weeks back. I didn’t want to say anything, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I totally get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore. I just—” Shang took a breath. “I just wanted to let you know because… you deserve to know. You deserve honesty.” Mulan straightened, his eyes lit up, his earring swishing back and forth with the sudden movement. Shang laughed, embarrassed, and dragged a hand down his face. “I’m gonna go dance now, so I’ll just leave you alone.” He made to get up when a hand pressed down on his from across the table.

“Don’t. Please, don’t.” Mulan stared back at Shang, steel in his eyes. Shang sat back down, trying to keep from assuming the worst, when Mulan laughed out, incredulously. “Shang, I cannot believe that you thought that this was going to jeopardize our friendship. I have been trying to get you to ask me out since we first met, you absolute doofus.”

Shang’s stomach dropped at the realization that Mulan reciprocates his feelings and tried not to show his excitement. “I don’t know if you saw, but I literally wrote my phone number on your cup when I met you that first day. Your hands were too clammy, though, and when you grabbed it, you smeared the writing. Mushu made fun of me for the rest of the week over that.” Mulan smiled, grabbing Shang’s hand again, playing with his fingers gently. Shang felt like he couldn’t breathe, like the world was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the strobes from the dancefloor.

“Then, I drew a heart on top of your coffee, which I was sure would work! Then, you had to rush off to the gym, of course. I was so embarrassed; the only reason I kept trying to get you to ask me out was because Mushu kept encouraging me. I thought you were into me originally because you were sweaty and flushed when I would see you, but then I realized it was probably because you work at a gym, and then I started spiraling, but Mushu was like ‘no he likes you, I promise,’” Mulan looked down again. “I didn’t want to come on too strong, but then when you mentioned that you’re a personal trainer, I wanted to get more alone time with you to get to know you better, so I figured, fuck it, why not?”

Shang laughed at the sheer sound of Mulan cursing so colorfully for the first time in front of him, but Mulan seemed unfazed. “So then, here I am, trying to seduce you, multiple times, by pretending that I don’t know how to do yoga poses, and wearing my cute little outfits—which, I can see the way you look at me, I know they’re cute—and yet, you still wouldn’t ask me out.”

Shang’s jaw dropped at the admission of Mulan pretending not to know how to do yoga, despite the fact that he did. “You’ve known how to do these things this entire time? Oh my god,” Shang facepalmed. “And you knew that I liked you? Mulan, this is crazy. Why didn’t you just say something?”

Mulan rubbed a thumb across Shang’s knuckles. “I did plenty to show you that I liked you, Shang. I wanted to leave the ball in your court, considering you seemed so terrified of me at times. It was the combination of Mushu’s encouragement and the way you looked at me, and only me, that kept me going. Otherwise, I would’ve decided to leave you alone, because I’m not about to chase someone who doesn’t want to be chased, you know?”

Shang nodded, processing all the information. How did he not pick up on all these signals? His flustery self had both inhibited him and enabled Mulan, simultaneously. “Then, there was that time when we almost kissed. That’s when I knew we were tiptoeing around each other, which is why I thought it was a date when I slept over at your place. That’s romantic, Shang!” Mulan linked their fingers together. “It really sucked when I thought you were ghosting me after that. I thought maybe you had decided you didn’t want to date me anymore.”

Shang bit his lip in thought. “I thought we were just hanging out. I was just happy to have your friendship. And the kiss, I thought maybe that was because of all the stress coming to a high.”

Mulan shook his head good-naturedly. The bass switched up with the genre of music. “My final attempt at being seductive was my outfit on Wednesday, but then you were doing your one-armed pushups, and I almost passed out. I thought I had died and gone to heaven,” Mulan said, pleased.

It was Shang’s turn to blush. “I was doing that because I spotted you in the parking lot but didn’t want to make a big deal of it. Should’ve known that would have been best case scenario, bro.”

Mulan laughed at the moniker, which made Shang smile. “Then, when that didn’t work either, Ling and Mushu started texting about how to get the two of us to meet up, apparently. I didn’t ask for that, but you know how Mushu can be. He told me to wear my best clubbing outfit, and here we are. Didn’t think it would be what made us finally talk to each other, but I’m not complaining.”

Shang brought Mulan’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles. “Neither am I.”

***

A week after their crush confessions, Shang and Mulan truly had become the dream team, to the relief of both the Coffee Crew and the Messy Movers, who had become exhausted by the back-and-forth of the will-they won’t-they that the two men had afflicted all of them with. For Shang, it was much easier being teased about how much he was clearly head over heels for Mulan than it was being teased over how he needed to admit his feelings. That day, Mulan had left work to stop by the gym, not for a training session, but simply to say hi to his boyfriend, and Shang was over the moon. Upon seeing the other man, Shang had jumped up from his spot at the desk, landing a gentle kiss on Mulan’s mouth. He could feel Mulan smiling.

“Hey, so I’m not scheduled for any sessions for the next hour. Would you mind helping me with this new training regimen? Yao recommended it as, like, the ultimate core strength exercise,” Shang said excitedly. He could barely keep a smile off his face for the past week.

Mulan’s skepticism was clear, “Sure, what is it?”

Shang beamed, “Just wait; you’ll see.”

Once they arrived in the training room, Shang started doing his pushups, as per usual, but then shouted over to Mulan, “Get on my back!”

When Mulan shouted back, “I don’t want to break you!” Shang waved him off, beckoning him over. Gingerly, Mulan climbed onto Shang’s back, which almost threw off Shang’s rhythm, but didn’t. Sitting cross-legged on Shang’s back, Shang felt the deep burn of his arms as he did his reps, but it was worth it to hear Mulan’s gasp as Shang continued. He smiled at the sound, and Mulan went on to praise him.

Yao discovered them in the room, as Shang was finishing his set, only to congratulate Shang for his achievement. “Nice job, Shang! Knew you had it in you. The ultimate burn!” he said, flexing his arms. “But I do need this room in ten minutes, boss,” he tapped his watch, letting the door close with a smile, as he went on his way. Mulan laughed as Shang went red, and Mulan climbed off, allowing Shang to perform a quick cool down before they had to let Yao use the room.

“You’re so handsome when you do that,” Mulan said quietly, leaning into Shang.

Shang tipped his head down, whispering, “I can do it at home, just for you, if you want.”

Mulan’s eyes widened, “Home?”

“Yeah, home.”

Mulan kissed him, cupping Shang’s cheek with a calloused hand.