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Mobei Jun was, for lack of a better word, spoiled. 

His father hadn’t really known what to do with him when his wife had died, and had thrown himself into his work more vigorously than ever in an effort to overcome (or stamp down) his grief, so he’d simply given… everything to his son. 

New toy? Got it. Expensive sneakers? Get two pairs. The best private school? Already done.

(He had, of course, neglected what would be perhaps the most important part – time with his own son – but by the time that thought crossed his mind it was already too late.)

As a result, Mobei Jun had grown up cold, disconnected, and with the conviction that regardless of any blockers, his father’s money would always get him whatever he wanted. 

College was no different – money had gotten him into one of the best universities of the country, had gotten him access to the most expensive books and even tutors, and he’d graduated top of his class with only one or two acquaintances who he deemed to be almost at his level.

Getting an internship at Cang Qiong Corp had been easy with his credentials.

His father had, of course, immediately suggested he just intern at the family company – Northern Desert Enterprises. Instead, Linguang Jun – his uncle, his father’s younger brother – had said “why not get experience at a different company first?”, and his father had promptly fallen for it. 

No matter. There was nothing Mobei Jun couldn’t do.

It was with this mindset that Mobei Jun arrived at Cang Qiong Corp, only to quickly find out not everyone bent to his will now that he was no longer under his father’s circle of influence.

He was just an intern, which– fair. He’d been prepared for it. He was at the bottom of the food chain, he needed to be polite and work his way up. 

That, he’d been ready for. 

What he hadn’t been prepared for was Shang Qinghua.

He met Shang Qinghua in his third week.

After two initial weeks of training along with the rest of the new interns, he’d finally joined the rest of his department – Operations, in line with his Business degree and with the aspirations his father had for him.

His manager was alright – not too micromanagey but also not super disinterested –, and had given him a small project to get him started.

He’d needed some numbers though, but he wasn’t quite sure where to get them. There wasn’t a database with these sorts of financials and he hadn’t spotted any intern for the Finance department during his training period.

However, as soon as he started asking around, everyone pointed towards the same person: Shang Qinghua. 

“Shang Qinghua will definitely help you!”

“You can find him on the 11th floor, he’s a cool dude.”

“You need financials? Shang Qinghua is your guy.”

Great! That was easy! He could definitely go to the 11th floor and get some numbers out of that guy, no problem.

He set out immediately; it was still mid morning and with any luck he’d be able to start analyzing those numbers before lunch and have the entire analysis completed by the end of the week (even though he had a week extra of deadline).

He’d be so competent, so efficient, that he would put all the other interns to shame, and by the time his internship was over he would get a full fledged position as an Associate and he could scrub that in his uncle’s face and demand more money to join Northern Enterprises and–

“Did you need something?” he heard someone say, effectively breaking him out of his reverie.

Belatedly, he realized he’d been in auto pilot the entire way to the 11th floor, and he’d been standing next to the elevator, right before entering the open space, intensely thinking to himself about how we would one up his uncle six months from then. 

“I’m looking for Shang Qinghua,” he said. The woman standing in front of him only looked at him curiously, probably trying to figure out which floor he was from, but led him to an office anyway, a few feet away from the open space. 

Shang Qinghua

Head of Finance

“Here you are,” she said. “I don’t think he’s in a meeting at the moment, but make sure to knock first anyway.”

How interesting that the Head of Finance was apparently the guy who did everything for everyone, if his coworkers were anything to go by. He was surer than ever that it would be easy to get these numbers from him.

After knocking on the door, he didn’t have to wait long to hear a muffled “come in” from the other side. 

The man in front of him was… not what he’d expected. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected – maybe one of those typical corporate bros who liked to charm everyone and ‘delegate’ everything (a.k.a. give all their work to their direct reports), with desks that had nothing but a laptop and two screens and endless time on their hands who thought their only job was to ‘have meetings’ and treated every other free slot as free time.

Instead, what he got was a short man who looked tired and overworked and had a desk littered with papers and folders and empty coffee mugs, filling up every free space.

“Can I help you?” Shang Qinghua asked, eyeing him oddly. “Am I late for a meeting or something? I don’t have anything in my calendar.”

“I was directed here,” he explained, in what he was sure was a smooth manner, “to get some numbers for a project.”

Shang Qinghua looked at him with an even odder look. “You didn’t need to come here. We have… the internet.”

Mobei Jun’s confidence faltered slightly, but he didn’t let that deter him. “I figured in person would be faster.”

“How?” Shang Qinghua asked, clearly exasperated. “The numbers are all in documents online. You coming here doesn’t get you anything faster.”

Okay, so maybe Shang Qinghua was not as easygoing as he’d been led to believe, but he could work with that.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “Any chance I could just give you my request in person anyway? Since I’m already here.”

Shang Qinghua didn’t answer, opting instead to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. Mobei Jun, on the other hand, was starting to lose his patience. How hard could it be to just get him what he wanted?

“Listen… What's your name?” Shang Qinghua asked, opening his eyes again. 

“Mobei Jun.”

“And you are?”

“I work in Operations,” he said. “I’m an intern, started two weeks ago,” he added, in the hope that would somehow mellow things out between them.

“Cool– look Mobei Jun, I’d love to help you but you’ll need to send in an actual request so it can be registered as a ticket. There’s a form – I’ll email you.”

“But I need those numbers today,” he said, trying not to sound like a whiny child. “I have a project–“

“I’m sure you do, and I’m sure it’s very important,” Shang Qinghua interjected, in what was probably meant to be a pacifying tone but ended up coming across as condescending, “but there are processes for this kind of stuff.“

Seeming to realize his tone hadn’t been the best, Shang Qinghua tried to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“What I mean to say is, there’s a queue and different priorities and a whole Finance team, really, and I can’t help you – but if you follow the process and fill in that form, someone will.”

Mobei Jun was… a little out of his element. He could count by the fingers in one hand the amount of times someone had denied him something so outright, especially in such a condescending way. 

This wouldn’t do.

Still, his ego had been damaged enough; he nodded and quickly let himself out of Shang Qinghua’s office. 

When he made it back to his floor, he felt so humiliated that he could barely stand to make eye contact with the people who’d told him to go to Shang Qinghua.

Had they known he would react like that and tell him he needed to fill in a form? Or had the problem been him ? 

When he was finally back at his desk, with one hour to go before his lunch break, he looked at his email and– there was an email from Shang Qinghua.

‘Hi Mobei Jun, here’s the form I told you about. Make sure you fill it in correctly so it’s prioritized accordingly. Good luck and welcome to the company!’

Mobei Jun sulked as he filled out the form and then he sulked even more throughout the rest of the day, as he grudgingly worked on what he could without the numbers he needed. 

Two days later, he got an email from someone else in the Finance department with a couple of documents attached. 

True to his word, he completed his project before the end of the deadline, though not a full week earlier as he’d imagined. 

His manager was happy about it and promptly gave him another one, and soon he was fully acclimated to his new job and gained regular responsibilities. 

In the meantime, he couldn’t help but keep noticing Shang Qinghua.

He saw the Head of Finance somewhat frequently; Finance and Operations went hand in hand and Shang Qinghua was often on their floor to take part in meetings with some of the managers. 

He wasn’t sure why he noticed him so much, but he did.

At first he’d assumed it was annoyance; he often replayed those condescending words in his head and tried to imagine how he could one up Shang Qinghua – an honor he often bestowed upon his uncle, but never anyone else.

But then he had interacted with him again.

It had happened completely by chance – they’d happened to take the same elevator one morning, along with two other people who got off on earlier floors.

“Hey you’re that kid from the other day,” Shang Qinghua had said, and Mobei Jun fought valiantly to keep from narrowing his eyes at him in annoyance. “Did you fill in that form like I told you?”

“I did,” he managed to say, between gritted teeth. 

“And?”

“I got the numbers,” he confirmed, refusing to look at Shang Qinghua. 

“Ah, see?” Shang Qinghua seemed– smug. Fucking– “It all worked out!”

Indeed. Shang Qinghua somehow kept the conversation going, and surprisingly got off on the Operations floor with Mobei Jun.

“I have a meeting here now,” he explained, noticing Mobei Jun’s confused look. “Have a nice day, kid!”

Kid . He hated that Shang Qinghua looked at him and saw a little kid.

He wasn’t! He was 23! He had a bachelor’s degree in Business and was writing his dissertation! How dare he?!

It wasn’t until later, much later, after his work day had ended and he was back home in his apartment, replaying his scarce interactions with Shang Qinghua in his mind as he showered, that he realized why the other man annoyed him so much.

He wanted him. 

He’d never actually wanted anyone, not quite this way and not even during his experimentations in college, and the realization was enough to make him pause in his movements. 

He wanted Shang Qinghua – so naturally, he was going to have him.

He just needed to figure out how.

* * *

The first time Mobei Jun set out to seduce Shang Qinghua wasn’t planned.

He’d been agonizing for days on how to make his move – should he try having lunch at the same spot as the other man? Should he try catching him on the elevator at the end of the day? – without ever settling on one. 

Instead, the solution fell headfirst, completely unprompted, into his metaphorical lap.

Sometime during his second month at Cang Qiong Corp, on a very normal Friday morning, Mobei Jun got a slack message from one of his coworkers.

drinks tonight? 🍹 

we’re getting some ppl together

His initial instinct was to say no; he wasn’t particularly interested in making friends with his coworkers and rather preferred having a separation between his work life and his personal life.

On the other hand, he’d noticed management sometimes went out for drinks after work with the rest of the staff, which meant he’d be in a better position to be hired at the end of his internship…

It was a no brainer. He said yes.

By the time 6pm rolled around, he was done with his work and only slightly dreading the next few hours.

However, as soon as he and some of his coworkers made it to the bar only two streets down from the office, he quickly forgot what his goal for the evening had been.

Shang Qinghua was there.

He hadn’t had the chance to interact with him over the past few days, having seen him only in passing.

After how much he’d brainstormed over which ‘accidental’ situations he could create between the two of them, he figured it was surely divine intervention that they were both at the same bar, at the same time.

(The fact that this bar was the usual after work hangout spot for Cang Qiong Corp was very easily brushed aside by his brain.)

In any case, Mobei Jun didn’t immediately pounce. He’d watched enough nature documentaries to know that how it went:

First, he’d need to give his prey enough space – a wide enough berth that they felt comfortable, secure in the knowledge that nothing could possibly happen to them.

Only then could he make his move and catch his prey completely unaware and unguarded.

Therefore, “Shang Qinghua,” he greeted, nodding his head politely as he walked past the older – but shorter – man on his way to the bar.

Shang Qinghua nodded back politely, and immediately returned to his conversation with– well, Mobei Jun didn’t know who they were, but he was sure they were no one of importance. 

Step one was complete. He’d greeted Shang Qinghua without immediately dragging him into a longer conversation.

Step two would be tedious, but extremely important – he would need to go to his group of coworkers and proceed to ignore Shang Qinghua, while naturally keeping tabs on him to make sure the other man was still around and wouldn’t leave before he got to him.

He needed his prey to be secure, but not so secure that they would leave before the hunt began!

(If Mobei Jun had bothered with actually dating anyone back in his teens or in college rather than the occasional hook up just to say he’d tried it, he would have known his behavior was very much like that of a teenager trying to get their crush’s attention by pretending they were completely unbothered by their presence.)

Step two was, as he predicted, tedious. He listened to the conversation around him, occasionally contributed with short sentences or grunts of agreement and he even bought a round for their table at one point.

Through it all, he kept an eye on Shang Qinghua’s table, silently gauging what would be the best time to swoop in and move on to step three.

As it turned out, this opportunity, too, presented itself on a platter to him. 

He went to the bathroom at one point, too full of cheap beer to hold it in any longer. 

As he washed his hands, Shang Qinghua walked out of the stall next to his.

“Hey,” he said, unsure if talking to someone in the bathroom was appropriate or not. “How’s it going?”

Shang Qinghua startled a little when he did, but was quick to respond. “All good! How have things been for you at Cang Qiong? It’s been a while now, no?”

They’d finished washing and drying their hands then, and were standing awkwardly in front of the bathroom door, unintentionally blocking it.

“Six weeks,” Mobei Jun confirmed, taking notice of the way Shang Qinghua seemed to be stealing nervous glances at the door. “It’s been alright, definitely an interesting experience.”

“How so?” Shang Qinghua asked curiously, before twitching slightly as the door opened and someone – unfamiliar, at least to Mobei Jun – barreled in, throwing them an odd glance. 

This – this was his chance.

“It seems we’re blocking the door,” he said, smoothly. “Why don’t I tell you about it over a beer?”

When Shang Qinghua agreed, following Mobei Jun to the bar and happily thanking him for the offered beer, Mobei Jun thought he was the smoothest, slickest guy in that bar.

When Shang Qinghua eagerly listened to his retelling of his first six weeks at Cang Qiong Corp, clearly interested in whatever gossip Mobei Jun had unintentionally stumbled upon as a fresh intern, Mobei Jun thought, surely, it would be very easy to get Shang Qinghua to give him his number; he was probably flattered at all the attention he was receiving from a younger guy, even.

He was therefore wholly unprepared for the way he was swiftly rejected as soon as Shang Qinghua finished his beer.

“Maybe you could give me your number,” he’d suggested. “That way I can keep you up to date on Zhou Hai’s attempts to impress our manager.”

Shang Qinghua’s eyes widened minutely then, but he quickly recomposed himself. 

“That’s alright,” he said, standing up from his seat and slipping his phone into his pants pocket, “you can tell me next time we run into each other,” and before Mobei Jun could even think to protest, he was already across the bar, saying goodbye to his original table and waving at some of their other coworkers, before quickly running out of the bar.

Mobei Jun… had let his prey escape.

Well.

* * *

The second time Mobei Jun tried his luck was two weeks after what he’d deemed ‘the incident’.

If he’d seen Shang Qinghua scarcely before that evening at the bar, he saw him even less after that. In fact, he was 99% sure the Head of Finance was avoiding him.

Unfortunately, Mobei Jun was just an intern, and his excuses to talk to a Head of department that wasn’t his own were very flimsy (not to mention inexistent).

Therefore, he needed to go back to the drawing board, which meant he was back to feeling as despaired as he had back before the night at the bar.

His opportunity arrived on a gloomy Wednesday afternoon.

“Can you take these down to the 11th floor?” Tian Meilin, one of the managers in his floor, asked. “I’m really sorry to ask you this but I have an emergency and–“

“I’ll do it,” he said, trying not to sound too eager. 

He barely heard the name of the person he was supposed to give the documents to in his haste, worried only about how he would find a reason to walk all the way over to Shang Qinghua's office and talk to him.

"Thank you so much," Tian Meilin said, walking away. 

Five minutes after she left, Mobei Jun headed to the elevators. 

When he got to the 11th floor, he quickly noticed Shang Qinghua's office door was closed, which meant he was probably in a meeting – but not surely – and as he walked over to the person he was supposed to be handing the documents over to, his mind was going through 3 or 4 very unlikely scenarios in which he would casually run into Shang Qinghua.

"Are you listening to me?" the guy in front of him asked, annoyed. "Did she tell you how she wanted the reports?"

"Uhm." Probably. Tian Meilin had said a lot of things, but Mobei Jun hadn't been listening very closely. "What are the options?"

The guy rolled his eyes, and Mobei Jun narrowed his eyes in response. The nerve of this man.

"I can email them to her with the full analysis or just give you the raw numbers now."

"I'll take both," he said, and the guy huffed as he picked up his employee card. 

"I'll be right back," he said, before walking over to what must have been the copy room.

He was back not five minutes later, and Mobei Jun was no closer to figuring out how to talk to Shang Qinghua that day.

Out of time and being chased out by the frazzled guy in front of him with a very curt look, Mobei Jun did the only thing he could think of: he walked directly into Shang Qinghua's office.

"What are you doing here?" Shang Qinghua asked, clearly surprised.

"I got lost on my way back to the elevator," he said, keeping his expression completely straight. 

Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, was not as discreet about his emotions, and was clearly gaping at him in a way that made him feel very... inadequate.

"You were here not that long ago," he pointed out. "My office is on the opposite side of the floor and in full view of the open space."

"I didn't notice."

Shang Qinghua made a small choking noise in the back of his throat, but didn't point out his very unsuccessful lying attempts anymore. 

"So what are you doing here?" he asked, eyeing the folder in his hand curiously. "Trying to get more 'urgent numbers' from me?" he asked, teasingly, with air quotes included. 

Mobei Jun snorted in response. "There's a form for that, don't you know?", reveling in the way Shang Qinghua's eyes widened in amusement. "I came to deliver a report and– get some numbers back?"

Shang Qinghua laughed, gesturing at the chair in front of his desk in invitation. "I'm worried about how unsure you sound about that."

Thirty minutes later, Mobei Jun prepared to exit Shang Qinghua's office feeling very satisfied with himself. 

They'd had a nice chat, some nice laughs as well, and Shang Qinghua had teased him in a way that made him believe he wasn't the only one who was interested.

It was already the end of the day, and they walked to the elevator together – Shang QInghua to leave for the day, and Mobei Jun to go back to his floor to get his things.

"Maybe we could get coffee sometime," he suggested, cautiously looking at the closed elevator doors in front of him and not at Shang Qinghua. "Maybe tomorrow after work?"

The elevator dinged then, and the doors to the elevator that was headed downstairs opened. Mobei Jun only had time to look at Shang Qinghua's slightly panicked face.

"I'm busy," he said, getting into the elevator and barely looking him in the eyes. "I'll see you around, kid!"

And then the doors closed.

Belatedly, Mobei Jun realized they hadn't been alone; the three people behind him getting ready to enter the next elevator had heard everything, and were trying (unsuccessfully) to muffle their laughter.

The elevator dinged again – the one in front of Mobei Jun this time, heading upstairs – and Mobei Jun stepped into it, glaring at the three people who quickly paled and tried to pretend they hadn't been laughing at him.

With his ego severely bruised, Mobei Jun went back to his floor, dropped off the numbers in Tian Meili's desk and gathered his things, before gloomily making his way back home.

Shan Qinghua was... much more of a challenge than he'd thought.

Maybe it was time to raise the bar.

* * *

After having failed at both getting Shang Qinghua’s number and securing himself a coffee date, Mobei Jun went back home, feeling increasingly frustrated. 

For once, it seemed, he wasn’t getting his way, at least not as easily as he did with everything else, and he wasn’t happy about it.

Dramatically, Mobei Jun was forced to reassess his previous dating experience – which was basically none at all – and he finally reached the conclusion that he had no idea what he was doing.

As much as he hated asking for help, it was time to concede.

Therefore, he called Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe was……. a friend. Maybe. An acquaintance from college, really, but he supposed by standard terms they would be considered friends.

Not only that, but Luo Binghe had managed to somehow get his old tutor from high school, who was 10 years older than him and had known him back when he’d been 14, to go out with him. Clearly, he knew something he didn’t, and he’d need to enlist his help.

The next day after work, he and Luo Binghe met for drinks.

“My, my,” Luo Binghe drawled out, looking at Mobei Jun with an impossibly smug look when he finished telling him about his recent affliction, “I never thought I’d see the day the stone cold Mobei Jun would come asking for my help.”

Mobei Jun remained impassive, simply taking a sip of his beer. “And? Will you help me?”

Luo Binghe hummed consideringly, eyeing Mobei Jun. “This should be interesting, so– why not?” he declared, shrugging. “Now tell me all about this man.”

So he did. He told him about how they’d met at the office when he’d rejected helping Mobei Jun with his numbers, and all about how he’d rejected his advances twice since. Through it all, Luo Binghe seemed deeply amused.

“So let me get this straight,” he started, once Mobei Jun had finished his story, “you thought you were doing okay because you bought him a beer and he accepted it,” he recounted, to which Mobei Jun nodded.

“And you bought him this beer at the bar you were already at,” another nod, “with all of your coworkers,” nod, “where you were already all buying each other drinks.” Another nod, though slightly more hesitant.

“But we were talking–“ he started to defend.

“About work,” Luo Binghe interjected. “The same way you’d already been talking with your other coworkers.”

Mobei Jun remained silent. He had a point.

“And because this wasn’t enough, you asked for his number completely out of the blue so you could give him more office gossip?”

Mobei Jun refused to answer.

“And then for your second attempt,” Luo Binghe continued, enjoying himself immensely as he continued to crush Mobei Jun’s spirits, “you barged into his office for no reason, proceeded to talk about work for the rest of the day and then got turned down for coffee in front of your coworkers? Is that what happened?”

“If you’re just going to sit there and humiliate–“ he started saying, nearly growling from how embarrassed he was feeling.

“Easy there,” Luo Binghe interrupted, the amusement nearly dropping from his voice completely. “I just wanted to get my facts right. Now I can–“

“Mobei Jun?” someone called out, moving over to their table.

Incredibly enough, it was none other than Shang Qinghua.

Mobei Jun had decided to meet Luo Binghe at the same bar he’d gone to before with his coworkers, not realizing he could potentially run into anyone on a Thursday. 

But there he was – Shang Qinghua, walking away from a group of other men who Mobei Jun vaguely recognized as other Heads of department at Cang Qiong, and crossing the bar to go say hi to him.

So these had been his plans…?

“Shang Qinghua,” he greeted, stoically ignoring the delighted look on Luo Binghe’s face. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

Shang Qinghua let out a small laugh, before stealing a quick glance at Luo Binghe.

“Yeah, I had a Head meeting and we always come here after…” he said, trailing off. “Anyway, I won’t interrupt you and your friend, I just came to say hi!”

“Leaving so soon?” Luo Binghe interjected, before Mobei Jun could open his mouth. “You haven’t even introduced yourself – how do you know Mobei?”

“We work together,” he cut in, turning to glare at Luo Binghe before fixing his eyes on Shang Qinghua once again. “Sorry, this is Luo Binghe, we know each other from college.”

“So impersonal,” Luo Binghe said, donning a fake pout. “We’re very close friends,” he purred out, much to Mobei Jun’s dismay. 

“Oh,” Shang Qinghua said, in what was a clipped sort of tone, “I see. Uhm, well, I’ll leave you to it then,” and he ran back to his coworkers before Mobei Jun had a chance to intervene.

“Why would you do that,” he gritted out, so angry at Luo Binghe he could barely see straight. Luo Binghe had been so– so– so flirtatious , making it seem as though they were closer than they really were, and now Shang Qinghua had gotten the wrong idea–

“To see how he would react,” Luo Binghe said, casually ignoring his anger, “and he seemed bothered, so I would say you haven’t completely butchered your chances yet.”

Mobei Jun’s quick anger suddenly paused at that, seeming to boil down to a simmer, staying dormant as he processed his friend’s words. 

“You think he’s interested?”

“A little bit,” Luo Binghe conceded with a shrug. “Now, here’s what you need to do…”

Over the next hour and a half, Luo Binghe thoroughly explained to Mobei Jun what he should do. From casual conversations to casual touches (which he proceeded to demonstrate on him, much to Mobei Jun’s mortification, who couldn’t even see if Shang Qinghua could see any of it, since his back was facing the rest of the bar) to small gestures, everything was covered by Luo Binghe.

By the time they left the bar, in which Mobei Jun waved goodbye to Shang Qinghua only to yelp as Luo Binghe’s hand slowly grazed his backside – that, he was sure Shang Qinghua had seen, along with the rest of the Heads, if some of their reactions were anything to go by –, Mobei Jun was feeling confident that he could put a plan together and thoroughly seduce Shang Qinghua.

Over the next few weeks, he put his plan in action.

The third time Mobei Jun tried to seduce Shang Qinghua, he actually thought it’d worked until he realized it didn’t. 

He and Shang Qinghua had gotten closer over time – a few chats in hallways here and there, one Slack message or another with some gossip, more beers in the usual hangout on Fridays after work where he didn’t try to ask for his number or ask him out for coffee, carefully planned so he could build up their relationship and not freak out Shang Qinghua again when he finally asked him out.

It wasn’t until his fourth month at Cang Qiong Corp that he tried again. 

They chatted almost every day at that point, even having gone for lunch when their breaks aligned a few times, sometimes even just the two of them. Some people definitely found it odd – why was the Head of Finance so close to an intern who wasn’t even in the same department? – but Shang Qinghua seemed happy to ignore them, happy to look past any rumors and always ready to humor him. 

One day, after Mobei Jun stayed late in the office on a Thursday to meet two different deadlines and had said he wouldn’t be joining his coworkers for drinks the next day either, he found Shang Qinghua downstairs in the lobby waiting for him.

“Did you work late today as well?” he asked, frowning. 

“I didn’t,” Shang Qinghua said, offering him a small smile. “But I know you did, and you have , for the past week, so I thought we could go get a drink to clear your head.”

Mobei Jun was so tired that he didn’t even take that as anything more than a friendly drink between coworkers. Later, however, as he drank his second beer and realized Shang Qinghua had waited for him on purpose to take him out for drinks, he decided it was finally time to shoot his shot again.

“We should have dinner after this,” he suggested, carefully watching Shang Qinghua’s reaction. 

Unlike the first two times, Shang Qinghua grinned brightly and said, “I know just the place.”

And so they had dinner together. Shang Qinghua led him to a noodle joint not far from the office which, according to him, was “not the best one I’ve had but it hits the spot pretty well, don’t you think?” and, afterwards, they walked back to the office, where they’d left their cars, feeling the cold breeze hit their warm cheeks, chatting about everything and nothing at the same time.

“Thank you,” Mobei Jun said, when they were in the garage about to part ways, leaning in slightly closer to his crush – if he bent down a little, there wouldn’t be much distance between their lips. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Ah it was nothing,” Shang Qinghua said, waving his hand casually and already fishing out his car keys from his pants pocket, “I remember when I was an intern – and even afterwards – and I’d get those tight deadlines. Nothing cheered me up more than a couple of drinks and some hot noodles, so I figured you should do something too.”

Oh. So it hadn’t been a–

“Bye, kid! I better see you at the bar tomorrow!”

And he was gone. Mobei Jun… was slightly disappointed, but. It had been progress, right?

* * *

The fourth time Mobei Jun tried to seduce Shang Qinghua was an accident.

Even though Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua’s friendship continued progressing much the same way it had before, with Shang Qinghua being much more open to invitations from Mobei Jun for small things such as coffee or dinner or even drinks outside of their Friday after work habit, he never dared again to think of them as anything more than friendly interactions between coworkers. 

He wasn’t giving up! He was just… at a loss on what to do.

“Maybe you should make your intentions clear,” Luo Binghe had suggested, after Mobei Jun had told him about their night of drinks and dinner where he’d been swiftly ‘coworkerzoned’ right afterwards.

Mobei Jun naturally rejected that idea; how much more obvious could he be, really?

So life went on, with Mobei Jun pining from afar and Shang Qinghua gently keeping him at a reasonable distance, and suddenly his internship had ended and he'd been hired full time as an Associate, and his father had tried to poach him but Linguang Jun had once again dug his claws in and said 'just a little bit more experience', and suddenly it was one year after he'd joined Cang Qiong and he was going on his first business trip. 

It wasn't anything big; Cang Qiong was a large corporation specializing in the manufacturing of medical equipment. They'd just negotiated a contract with a new client and a few key members – including Mobei Jun, who had been involved in the project from the beginning – had been asked to visit the client's headquarters to close the deal and work out any last kinks. 

It wasn't a far away trip and, by no means, a long one. It was a simple 2 day affair, with a flight leaving on Wednesday night and a return flight on Friday evening. It was a novelty for Mobei Jun but, what stood out to him the most, was that Shang Qinghua was also going. 

He'd explained it to him; someone else from his team was supposed to go but then they'd gone on maternity leave and the other senior person was on holiday, so in the end he'd just decided to go instead and spare everyone the trouble of thinking too hard about it. 

Even though he knew it was pointless, Mobei Jun couldn't help but feel his stomach churning in anticipation the entire week leading up to their departure. 

"Mobei!" Shang Qinghua called out to him, waving at him from his seat near their gate. “Over here!”

Mobei Jun was quick to join him, noticing they seemed to be the first ones there.

“Where is everyone else?” he asked, trying to spot them. “We board in 30 minutes.”

“There was a slight mishap with the bookings,” Shang Qinghua said, taking his phone out so he could show him. “Turns out the rest of them are only flying out tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.”

So he and Shang Qinghua were going to be completely alone for one night…

Well. That would be fine. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.

Mobei Jun was fine the rest of the night. 

He was fine when they boarded the plane and realized their seats were next to each other;

He was fine when their taxi from the airport to the hotel kept taking sharp turns and sliding them closer together;

He was fine when they checked in at the hotel and got rooms right next to each other;

He was slightly not as fine when Shang Qinghua claimed to be super tired so “would you mind if we just ordered room service and ate in one of our rooms?”;

He was definitely not fine when he arrived to Shang Qinghua’s hotel room only to find him dressed more casually than he’d ever seen him – “I hope you don’t mind, I just couldn’t stand being in stuffy work clothes anymore” – and with only the ambient lights turned on, with the small table set for two already.

“Are you okay?” Shang Qinghua asked at some point during dinner, noticing how clearly distracted Mobei Jun was. “Do you want to go rest?”

“I’m fine,” he said, though he was decidedly even less fine when they finished eating and Shang Qinghua roped him into watching a movie with him because he “really didn’t feel like reading the book” he’d brought. 

Which– would be fine! Really! If it didn’t mean they needed to stretch out on his bed together, side by side, because the hotel rooms didn’t have more than a small table, a closet and a bed facing the TV. 

Really, if Mobei Jun didn’t know any better based on all of his past attempts, he would’ve really thought Shang Qinghua was putting him through hell on purpose. 

However, as it stood, he knew he really just didn’t know better. 

He somehow made it through the night, ignoring every impulse in his body that told him to take a chance and just– do something, like kiss him or, even worse, tell him how he felt.

When he finally returned to his room, after Shang Qinghua fell asleep on his shoulder, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The next day, thankfully, they were joined by the rest of their coworkers, and in between meetings and business lunch and then a business dinner and a call with his manager, they barely had any time to spend alone, though they traded the occasional text between meetings trying to make the other one distracted.

On Friday afternoon, as he packed his carry-on to take back to the airport, Shang Qinghua knocked on his door.

“Bad news,” he said, though he didn’t seem particularly worried, “HR just called me – they made another mistake with our flights and you and I need to stay an extra night. They’ve already reached out to the hotel and extended our stay for another night, we’re flying out tomorrow morning.”

“And the rest–?”

“Their flights are still today.”

Mobei Jun didn’t remember their HR department being so incompetent, but here they were, apparently.

And that was how he found himself, a few hours later, in the hotel bar with Shang Qinghua after dinner, getting drinks on company budget.

“We haven’t really been using it much this trip,” Shang Qinghua had justified. “Just don’t tell the Head of Finance.”

Mobei Jun had snorted and gladly accepted another drink.

Three hours later, he was supporting a very drunk Shang Qinghua by the waist, trying to find his keycard so he could put him in his room and let him sleep it off.

“Mobei, noooo,” he said, speech clearly slurred. “I can just stay with you, it’s easier.”

It was easier, but not on Mobei Jun’s sanity!

He did eventually find the keycard, and after forcing Shang Qinghua to change /in the bathroom/ (after he tried to undress right in front of him), he put him to bed, and forced him to unlock his phone so he could set 5 different alarms for the next day to ensure he would wake up on time.

“You wake me up,” Shang Qinghua had demanded with a pout, and Mobei Jun knew he would only be too happy to oblige the next morning, though he still set the alarms anyway.

When he was finally ready to leave, after placing an aspirin on the bedside table next to Shang Qinghua with a bottle of water, Shang Qinghua had already fallen asleep.

He looked peaceful, though he still had a slight pout to his lips, and Mobei Jun had the sudden impulse to lean in and–

No. He couldn’t do that. Shang Qinghua was asleep.

Mobei Jun was sober enough to fight with himself, but drunk enough to give in. Before he could think about it too deeply, he was already kneeling next to the bed and leaning in towards Shang Qinghua.

It was a very quick kiss, with barely any pressure, but Mobei Jun was so flustered he could barely stand upright afterwards.

So his fourth attempt was an accident, but luckily it also happened when Shang Qinghua was asleep. He would never know.

The next day, when he knocked on Shang Qinghua’s door to wake him up, he could barely look him in the eyes.

After that, when they returned home, Mobei Jun started avoiding Shang Qinghua.

* * *

The fifth time Mobei Jun tried to seduce Shang Qinghua was not an accident, but Mobei Jun promised himself it would be the last time.

A few months had gone by since their business trip; Mobei Jun had been promoted, Linguang Jun was still trying his hardest to avoid having his nephew at the family company, and Mobei Jun had failed in his mission to avoid Shang Qinghua.

He’d been successful for a while , meaning, approximately two weeks. He’d taken to having lunch by himself and he took too long to respond to Shang Qinghua’s texts, and Friday drinks were completely removed from his calendar.

But then Shang Qinghua had gotten sad ; he’d cornered him after a meeting and he’d turned to him with tears in his eyes asking “have I done something to make you mad?” and Mobei Jun’s resolve had immediately come crashing down. 

It was difficult, knowing what Shang Qinghua’s lips felt against his while knowing he would never get to feel it again, but– it was doable.

And then the summer party had arrived; a semi casual event where alcohol flowed freely and so did gossip, and Shang Qinghua had been close to him all night even though his fellow Heads were sending him blatant looks of incredulity and– it had to mean something, right?

So he’d taken Shang Qinghua by the hand and led him to an empty hallway and–

“What are you doing?” Shang Qinghua had asked, eyes wide as he looked at their joined hands. “Mobei–?”

“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time,” he’d said, and then he’d leaned down and kissed him – for real this time, while both of them were still relatively sober and aware and he’d gotten to feel Shang Qinghua’s lips again, and feel the slight taste of his peppermint toothpaste mingled with beer and all had felt right in the world.

Until it wasn’t.

“What the fuck,” Shang Qinghua had gasped out when they’d parted for air, looking up at him in shock, though Mobei Jun had clearly felt him kissing him back and his hands had found their way to Mobei Jun’s chest. “You–“

“Do you feel the same way?” Mobei Jun asked then, fully aware that his tone was slightly demanding, though he was also a little hopeful at Shang Qinghua’s slightly dazed look.

“I– I didn’t know– how do you feel?” Shang Qinghua finally settled for asking, and Mobei Jun looked at him in confusion. Wasn’t it obvious?

“I want you,” he said, confidently, missing the way Shang Qinghua seemed to deflate. “I’ve wanted you since you refused to give me those numbers when I was an intern and sent me a form instead. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.

“Want,” Shang Qinghua echoed, a little distantly. “You… want me.”

“Yes.”

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Shang Qinghua’s hands dropped from his chest quickly, as if burned, and Mobei Jun felt his chest go cold just as fast.

“I’m sorry Mobei,” Shang Qinghua said, though his eyes were fixed on a point somewhere behind Mobei Jun’s head, “I think we want different things,” and before Mobei Jun could process what happened, he was already walking off.

Mobei Jun didn’t immediately go back to the party. He stood there for a while, thinking about what had happened, how he’d confessed his feelings to Shang Qinghua and been rejected so outright.

There was no doubt now. At least he’d tried. At least, now he knew.

When he went back to the party, Shang Qinghua had already left.

* * *

Shang Qinghua took two weeks off work after the summer party.

He wasn’t being a coward, not at all! He had nothing to hide from! It’s just, well, he was disappointed.

When he’d first been promoted to Head of Finance and joined the other Heads in their weekly meeting, they’d been quick to warn him: while in-office relationships were not expressly forbidden, now that he was in that position he needed to be very cautious if he chose to enter one.

“It’s not uncommon for the young and the ambitious to try and take advantage,” Shen Qingqiu, the Head of Strategy, had told him. “Be it for corporate espionage, blackmail or just trying to get a better position – trust me, it will happen.”

He doubted it, though. He’d never been very popular and his previous relationships had been far and few between. Who would go to such lengths?

But then it happened; a young Finance Associate, Jin Liu, had asked him for drinks. In his innocence, he’d accepted. 

Four drinks later they were at Shang Qinghua’s apartment. 

The next day, Jin Liu asked for a promotion. When he expressed his confusion, Jin Liu sent him photos of the two of them on Slack.

“This won’t look very good for you,” he’d said. 

Shang Qinghua went to Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, then. Later that day, Jin Liu had been paid off and had left the company after signing an NDA.

“I warned you,” Shen Qingqiu said, at the bar, sliding a drink towards him. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t think–“

“That’s alright,” Shen Qingqiu interjected, effectively cutting him off. “You’ve learned from this, yes?”

And he had.

From that day forward, Shang Qinghua vowed to himself to never date another coworker again, especially if they were his junior and, even worse, if they were in his department.

Then, he’d met Mobei Jun.

Mobei Jun may not have been in his department, but he was definitely his coworker and he was most definitely his junior in every way. Nearly 10 years younger and fresh out of college, Shang Qinghua was quick to reject him once he figured out what the other – admittedly handsome and just his type – man wanted.

It worked. It worked so well they eventually even became friends.

At some point in their friendship, as Mobei Jun was hired as an Associate and started to make a name for himself in his own department, Shang Qinghua considered breaking his rule.

Their friendship seemed genuine and Mobei Jun seemed to still have feelings for him. Surely, if Shang Qinghua were to give him a chance, Mobei Jun wouldn’t turn around and try to use their relationship for his benefit.

So he changed their flights; HR was very quick to accommodate – he was in charge of the budget anyway, and surely if he needed to change a couple of flights it was for good reason – and Mobei Jun was none the wiser, and suddenly Shang Qinghua had earned himself an extra two nights with Mobei Jun completely alone, where he could maybe–

Mobei Jun was incredibly respectful. Shang Qinghua was only slightly frustrated, though it only solidified in his mind what he already knew – Mobei Jun wasn’t like that ; he could trust he wouldn’t want to use him.

But then–

“I’ve wanted to do this for a really long time.”

“I’ve wanted you since you refused to give me those numbers when I was an intern and sent me a form instead. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.”

When Shang Qinghua had been sure Mobei Jun would confess his feelings – that he liked him, maybe even loved him, and he wanted to be with him –, he instead confessed how much he wanted him.

So Shang Qinghua had fled.

“I’m not sure a two week leave on such short notice is acceptable,” Yue Qingyuan had said, helplessly, trying to look around for Shen Qingqiu – his right hand, who would undoubtedly support him and call Shang Qinghua out on his behavior – when Shang Qinghua had cornered him at the party before running off altogether.

“I’ve never had to ask for anything like this,” he pleaded. “I’ll send a complete handover document on Monday morning to the Managers but please– please.”

“Fine,” Yue Qingyuan conceded, in the indulgent tone he usually reserved for Shen Qingqiu. “Make sure to cc me in it.”

“I will,” he quickly agreed, and then he was running off, leaving the party, before Mobei Jun had a chance to find him and demand a better answer.

Really. What was Mobei Jun even after ? What could Shang Qinghua possibly give him that he couldn’t get for himself?

He’d looked into him, at one point – he knew he was from a well off family and would eventually inherit Northern Desert Enterprises, a much larger corporation than Cang Qiong. He was well liked by his manager and on the cusp of a promotion. What did he even want from him?

The answer, he knew, was not at the bottom of the empty bowl of cereal he’d been staring at for the past fifteen minutes. 

He was only startled out of his daze when his doorbell rang, quite unexpectedly. 

It was a Thursday morning, the fourth day of his two week leave, and he’d been expecting approximately zero people to visit him. 

What was even more surprising was that on the other side of the door stood Shen Qingqiu.

“Shen Qingqiu?” he greeted, still confused, as he opened the door wide for his coworker to enter. “Is something wrong at the Cang Qiong? Do I need to–“

“Good morning,” Shen Qingqiu simply said, stepping into Shang Qinghua’s apartment with a grace that was simply his, looking slightly out of place. “Have you had enough of feeling sorry for yourself or should we really only expect you back at work in 2 weeks?”

Shang Qinghua gaped at him, his brain scrambling to try and keep up. What the–!

“I am entitled to take paid days off!” he retorted, and rightly so! “That’s what they’re there for!”

“Requested in advance, yes,” Shen Qingqiu retorted, which– okay, fair.

“Am I needed back, Shen Qingqiu?” he asked, crossing his arms defensively. “Is there an actual reason you came here?”

Shen Qingqiu seemed to hesitate, but then he walked towards Shang Qinghua’s dining table and sat across from where he’d been sitting earlier, empty cereal bowl still in place.

“I know why you had to take this time off,” Shen Qingqiu admitted, much to his surprise. “I noticed your budding friendship with that intern–“

“Associate,” Shang Qinghua corrected, for– no reason, actually.

“–and,” Shen Qingqiu continued, in an odd display of patience, “I asked my… boyfriend,” he gritted out, which– really? He could have sworn Shen Qingqiu had something going on with Yue Qingyuan, “to tell me as much about him as he could.”

“Why?” he asked, confused. “Is your boyfriend a private investigator or something?”

Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes, trying to keep his patience in check. “He’s a chef,” he clarified, “but they’ve been friends since college.”

“Oh.” But then, “Wait, is your boyfriend Luo Binghe?”

So Shen Qingqiu was the tutor Luo Binghe had chased after for years! Mobei Jun had told him about it but Shang Qinghua would have never imagined–

“The point is,” Shen Qingqiu continued, after nodding to confirm Shang Qinghua’s suspicions, “I know I warned you about office relationships years ago and that you had a bad experience, but I hope you won’t hold yourself back because of it.”

Oh. That was… very unexpected. He could have sworn Shen Qingqiu didn’t care for him in the least. He only really seemed to care about two people – Yue Qingyuan, who he surmised was his childhood friend (and more, he’d thought, but he’d been very wrong, as it turned out), and Shen Yuan, his younger brother who did not work at Cang Qiong but had still managed to meet and eventually date Liu Qingge, much to Shen Qingqiu’s obvious displeasure –, not leaving much space for someone else.

He’d been wrong, apparently. Not only did he manage to make space for his former student, now he apparently had made space for him as well.

“I do appreciate your concern,” he said, with a small smile. “It’s true I decided I would never date anyone at work again, but I actually was willing to make an exception for Mobei Jun.”

“Then I don’t understand what the problem is,” Shen Qingqiu said, narrowing his eyes. “You rejected him after he finally made a bolder move and now he’s apparently going to resign and go work for his father for a lower pay.”

“What?!” he gasped out, shocked. “Why?!”

“You really can’t guess?”

Well. Fine, he could — obviously, Mobei Jun was embarrassed at having been rejected so blatantly. When he relayed this to Shen Qingqiu, the other man closed his eyes again and pinched the bridge of his nose, having effectively lost his patience.

“He’s heartbroken, Shang Qinghua!” he finally snapped, to Shang Qinghua’s shock. “That kid has been chasing after you for over a year and you think he’s just embarrassed ?”

“He doesn’t have those sorts of feelings!” he snapped back. How dare Shen Qingqiu think he knew better just because his boyfriend was friends with Mobei Jun? He hadn’t actually been there when Mobei Jun broke his heart! “I would know, he told me and then he broke my heart along the way, so don’t you dare say that!”

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth dropped open – just a little bit – in shock, before he quickly snapped it back closed and resumed his lofty immortal air. 

“You’re both dumber than I gave you credit for, then,” he finally said. “What makes you think he doesn’t have feelings for you?”

Shang QInghua hardly wanted to tell him, but a part of him wanted to ask – wanted to know – what it was that made him think he did. “He told me he… wanted me. Just. Wanted me. Nothing else.”

Shen Qingqiu looked at him with something very akin to pity. “Is that what you believe?”

“What else should I believe?” he asked, because really, what else was there?

“That intern has been hanging off of you since, what, his first day at the company?”

“Third week,” he corrected, but Shen Qingqiu ignored him and continued regardless.

“Maybe that really is all it ever was at first, but after all this time and after all the time you’ve spent together, is it really so hard to believe there might be more?” Shang QInghua remained silent. Truthfully, it really was – but that was probably not Mobei Jun’s fault. It was his own inadequacy and trust issues that led him to believe– “If he truly didn’t care, would he be quitting his job after being rejected by– what, the third time now?”

“Fourth,” he corrected, swallowing dryly. As much as he didn’t want to admit it… Shen Qingqiu had a point.

Mobei Jun… really had very little to gain by seducing Shang Qinghua. In fact, by leaving the company, he had even less. But then, why hadn’t he said more?

“You’d do well to ask him,” Shen Qingqiu said flatly, standing up from his seat. “I’m tired of that brat hogging all of Binghe’s time; make sure you fix this.”

And then he was gone.

* * *

The sixth time Mobei Jun tried to seduce Shang Qinghua, he was asked to. 

He’d been finishing up his day – replying to some emails from clients and groaning at the meeting invite for the next day with both HR and his manager where they would undoubtedly try to get him to stay, again – when the whole floor seemed to go quiet all at once. 

That was a rare occurrence; the Operations floor was usually loud and filled with energy, on account of all the different phone calls and meetings happening at the same time with clients and suppliers and Logistics partners and everyone else, so only when there was something dramatic (as per Shang Qinghua’s definition) happened did the floor usually quiet down.

The dramatic occurrence ended up being Shang Qinghua himself.

Everyone had talked about them for ages – almost two years, but who was counting? Mobei Jun had, but that didn’t matter –, and everyone had seen the forlorn way Mobei Jun had reentered the summer party, only a few minutes after Shang Qinghua had cornered the CEO and completely disappeared. When the Head of Finance had ended up disappearing for more than that night, leaving behind some frazzled Finance Managers in charge of his work, the rumor mill had only increased.

And now…

“Mobei,” Shang Qinghua said, standing right in front of his desk. “Can we talk?”

As far as Mobei Jun was aware, all had been said and done between them. Still, he couldn’t help but follow Shang Qinghua to an empty hallway, reminiscent of the last time they’d been together in the office, with the difference that Shang Qinghua promptly found an empty meeting room and gestured for Mobei Jun to join him inside.

“I thought you were off for two weeks,” was the first thing Mobei Jun said when they went inside, staring intently at the older man. “Were you asked to try and persuade me to stay?”

“What? No,” he said, seemingly bewildered. “No, Mobei, I– listen, I heard you were quitting after what happened, and I think we need to clear things up between us.”

“There’s nothing to clear up,” Mobei Jun said, his jaw set in barely concealed anger. “I asked you out, you rejected me, and that’s it. What else is there to say?”

“You didn’t ask me out, though!” Shang Qinghua cried out, frustrated. “You kissed me and then said you wanted me, and that is very different from asking me out!”

Mobei Jun’s anger (and humiliation) receded in favor of leaving him confused. “How are those things different?”

Shang Qinghua sighed, increasingly more frustrated. “Saying you want me implies– implies that that’s it , nothing else, and I– that’s not enough for me.”

Nothing else? What did he– oh. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, quietly, trying to hide the desperation he felt. He needed to make things right, he needed to let him know that he wanted so much more– “I’ve wanted you for so long, we’ve been friends for almost as long… how could I not want more with you?”

“I haven’t had the best experiences,” Shang Qinghua said, which– Mobei Jun didn’t really like to think about Shang Qinghua’s past experiences at all, but to know that they were bad… “Especially with office romances,” he added. “I really did want to give you a chance, though,” he admitted, his voice lowering as he did.

Mobei Jun’s heart started beating faster at that. Surely then–

“Did you mean what you just said?” Shang Qinghua asked. “Do you really want… more with me?”

“I’m crazy about you,” he admitted, expressing his feelings more sincerely than he’d ever done before. 

“Ask me again, then,” Shang Qinghua requested. “Properly this time.”

They were close, much closer than they’d been before, reminiscent of the position they’d been in back at the summer party only the previous week. If he leaned in again… but there was something else he needed to do first.

“Shang Qinghua, will you go on a date with me?” he asked, staring intently at the man in front of him. 

Shang Qinghua nodded, before leaning in and slamming his lips against his, slightly forcefully. Mobei Jun responded enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around his waist and bringing him closer, impossibly closer.

Later, when they were at Shang Qinghua’s apartment, having skipped dinner and gone directly to dessert – including a very brief moment of confusion from Mobei Jun when realizing Shang Qinghua was expecting things to go a little differently than they usually did for him, after which he realized, actually, that didn’t sound bad at all, especially not when he pulled the “kid” on him that he hadn’t used in a really long time –, and after Shang Qinghua told him about Jin Liu and Shen Qingqiu’s visit and “have you really been hogging all of Luo Binghe’s time?”, and after Mobei Jun agreed to keep his job at Cang Qiong, he looked down at the man sleeping peacefully beside him, wrapped in three different blankets and slightly drooling on his chest, and silently pondered that, as it turned out and contrary to popular belief, sixth time was the charm (and he was very glad for it).