Work Text:
Jiang Cheng has tried to read this page for the last forty minutes, and nothing is sticking. Not a damn word. He’s on board with Shakespeare. There’s blood, and there’s beauty (which he knows he’s not supposed to notice, not in class anyway, where anyone can hear). He related more strongly to Cordelia than he cared to admit, though he is glad Shijie and Wei Ying are nothing like Goneril and Regan.
But this metaphysical nonsense? Comparing one’s lover to a flea? Jiang Cheng does not get it, and he does not get why Ms. Carmichael is so into these poets, and he’s gonna get an F on this essay, and he’s gonna have to explain to his parents why he failed English, and he’s—
“Moon cake!”
Jiang Cheng looks up at Huaisang. He sits across from Jiang Cheng at a table in their favorite cafe. He should be studying for his history exam, but his book remains unopened.
“What are you talking about? They don’t serve moon cakes here.”
“No, A-Cheng, that’s what I’m going to call you. Moon cake! So beautiful and golden on the outside, so salty on the inside.”
“What? No.” Jiang Cheng closes his book. “Nope. That’s not going to happen.”
“A-Cheeeeng, you’re my boyfriend! It’s my right to call you something lovey-dovey.”
“And it’s my right to veto it.” He picks up his cup and discovers it’s empty. “Do you want another drink? My treat.”
“Aw, my lovely moon cake, you spoil me.”
Jiang Cheng pushes his chair away from the table. “Aaaand you ruined it. No mocha for you.”
Huaisang reaches out and snatches Jiang Cheng’s hand as he maneuvers around his chair. “No, no, I promise, I won’t call you that any more.”
Jiang Cheng stares Huaisang down. Huaisang meets his gaze with all evident sincerity, and Jiang Cheng’s resolve softens. He leans down and gives him a brief kiss. “Alright,” he whispers, “I’ll get your mocha.” He straightens and winks at Huaisang. “My lovely little blood-sucking flea.”