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It was 1:59 p.m. Shen Jiu touched up his lip gloss, tugged the hem of his dress into proper place, and adjusted the green silk bow at the base of his ponytail. Folding his hands, he gazed casually yet elegantly at nothing in particular and waited.
It was 2:00 p.m. The door swung open to let in a gaggle of high school girls. Shen Jiu readjusted his bow.
It was 2:01 p.m. Shen Jiu glared at his phone.
It was 2:02 p.m. Grace period over; there was no more reason to wait! Shen Jiu set his phone facedown on the table and flagged down the waitress: a cute young woman with twin braids.
“Hello! What can I get for you?”
He smiled at her. “I’d like the jasmine green tea.”
“Hot?”
“Yes.”
“Alright! It will be just a few minutes.”
It was 2:04 p.m. Scowling, Shen Jiu blew softly across the steaming surface of his green tea and took a sip. Mm. At least the tea was good. But if he wasn’t here in the next few minutes, Shen Jiu was going to pour it right over his head.
It was 2:05 p.m.—
“Jiu-ge!”
Shen Jiu looked up. There was the offender with his wire-rimmed glasses and sheepish smile and green knitted sweater—the exact same shade of green as Shen Jiu’s own. Boyishly handsome. Stupidly handsome. Shen Jiu pierced Shen Yuan with a glare. “You’re late.”
There was something wrong with Shen Yuan’s eyes. It wasn’t that they couldn’t see or that they hurt. Rather, it was that he couldn't seem to tear them away from Shen Jiu’s own sharp brown eyes, impeccably lined and narrowed straight at Shen Yuan; Shen Jiu’s perfect brows drawn down in displeasure over his adorable, ever-so-slightly scrunched nose; Shen Jiu’s beautiful silky hair caressing the sides of his face and cascading down his back in an unbroken spill of ink; Shen Jiu’s slim waist in cream-white fabric, peeking out from underneath the hem of his cropped sweater.
And the table was quite rudely blocking Shen Yuan’s line of sight now, but he could picture clearly the glimpse he’d gotten as he walked in of Shen Jiu’s smooth, tender thighs extending from the bottom of his dress—his knees flushed the faintest pink where the skin was thin and fragile. The fluffy knitted cotton of Shen Jiu’s legwarmers brushed Shen Yuan’s leg.
Shen Yuan was staring so dazedly at the vision of utter perfection and beauty before him that he missed what the vision of perfection and beauty said.
“Ah?”
“I said, you’re late.”
Oh, yeah. Shen Yuan lowered his head in shame and pouted at Shen Jiu through his lashes. “I’m sorry, Jiu-ge. There was a lot of traffic in this area.”
Shen Jiu sniffed. “Then why wasn’t I late?”
… He had him there. And besides, Shen Yuan was of the opinion that Shen Jiu was always right. “Jiu-ge is right,” he declared aloud. “I’m really sorry… Let me make it up to you?”
He gave Shen Jiu his most winning smile.
Shen Jiu’s cheeks pinkened, though his glare didn’t relent. “And how, precisely, would you do that?”
“There’s that mall near here,” Shen Yuan said, pressing his advantage. He rested an elbow on the table and leaned forward, smirking in his best approximation of debonair charm. It was a failure, though nevertheless successful in making Shen Jiu’s mouth twitch with restrained laughter—Shen Yuan’s true goal all along. “Let’s go shopping, everything on me. Jiu-ge deserves it.”
“Oh?” Shen Jiu’s raised eyebrow warned Shen Yuan that his bullshit detector was on. “For what?”
“For being perfect,” Shen Yuan answered; it was one hundred percent true, no bullshit, may the heavens strike him down if he lied. “And for being mine.”
After Shen Jiu had finished kicking Shen Yuan under the table for his embarrassing words, they finished the tea and accompanying snacks and went to the nearby mall. Inside, gleaming storefronts rose up seven stories high.
Shen Jiu walked straight past the more affordable stores by the entrance, beelining towards the nearest luxury brand. He dragged Shen Yuan along by the hand. With Shen Yuan being the way he was, and with Shen Jiu… also being the way he was, it had taken them months to muster up the temerity to hold hands in public. But now that they had started, Shen Jiu was never going to give it up.
“Welcome,” greeted a suited attendant with a smile as her eyes flickered quickly between the two of them and their clasped hands. Visibly clocking Shen Yuan as the tagalong wallet, she directed her words towards Shen Jiu. “Are you looking for anything in particular today?”
That’s right, Shen Jiu thought smugly under her respectful gaze. MY boyfriend is holding my hand, and MY boyfriend would buy me everything in this store if I said the word.
“Just looking,” he answered, tugging Shen Yuan over to the closest rack of clothing. He touched a pale blue sweater, feeling its dreamy softness—cashmere. “A-Yuan, would this look good on me?”
“Yes,” Shen Yuan said without hesitation. Like a well-trained dog, he held out his hands so that Shen Jiu could deposit the sweater in his hold.
Shen Jiu wandered to the next rack and held up a blouse. “What about this?”
“Yes,” came Shen Yuan’s instant response.
Another. “This one?”
“Yes.”
“You hardly even looked,” Shen Jiu accused, putting both blouses back.
Shen Yuan coughed, ears tinted red. “Well, Jiu-ge looks good in anything.”
Shen Jiu’s face flamed just as red. “Since when did you become so shameless?” he hissed, pinching Shen Yuan’s arm.
Shen Yuan covered his flushed face, whispering: “I don’t know, it’s your fault for being too beautiful—aiya, it hurts, mercy ah Jiu-ge!”
Shen Jiu finally stopped pinching him. “Hmph, you’re so embarrassing.”
“Me? You’re the one attacking your poor boyfriend in public,” Shen Yuan complained, exaggeratedly rubbing at his arm. Shen Jiu held up his index and thumb in a gesture of warning. Shen Yuan lifted his hands in surrender. “I was wrong, I was wrong. What Jiu-ge says is right.”
“Exactly,” Shen Jiu sniffed. He could see Shen Yuan restraining a laugh, the same way a smirk tugged sweetly at the corner of Shen Jiu’s lips. He never had this much fun with anyone else. Shen Yuan was really… really good. Shen Jiu cleared his throat and turned to the next rack. “Now come over here and look properly this time: would these pants suit me?”
Two hours and countless stores later, Shen Yuan’s left hand held seven or eight bags filled with luxury goods (plus one with newly released manga), while his right hand held something—or rather, someone, infinitely more precious. Shen Jiu’s cheeks were pink and his eyes bright with satisfaction.
Contrary to what one might assume, Shen Jiu had plenty of his own money. Though his income as an architect was somewhat less consistent that that of Shen Yuan’s familial sinecure, his work was highly sought after and he certainly reaped the benefits.
But Shen Jiu liked being taken care of, as Shen Yuan had found. He liked to cling to Shen Yuan’s arm like a bratty little brother, liked to bat his eyelashes to get Shen Yuan to do what he wanted (though Shen Yuan would do so anyway), liked to be spoiled and indulged with Shen Yuan’s money. And, well, Shen Yuan liked it too. Could you blame him?
“I want ice cream,” Shen Jiu demanded, squeezing Shen Yuan’s hand.
Shen Yuan was in danger of heart failure. Fuck, my boyfriend is so cute! “Okay,” he agreed immediately. “Let’s go.”
As they walked towards the ice cream shop, Shen Yuan felt a prickling gaze from the side. He glanced past Shen Jiu to see a young man with bleached blond hair staring at Shen Jiu. His gaze, showing a hint of admiration, roved over Shen Jiu’s face and pretty outfit—and lingered on his bare thighs. The young man looked toward his companion, mouth opening to comment—and accidentally caught Shen Yuan’s eye.
Shen Yuan pinned the pathetic toad with a glare holding all the vengeful wrath of Zhongdian’s biggest hater. The young man’s expression crumpled into anxious confusion, like he couldn’t figure out why he felt so threatened by a 172-centimeter man wearing glasses and a knitted sweater. He quickly averted his eyes.
Good—such people were unworthy of gazing upon Shen Jiu’s perfection.
Shen Yuan had forgotten all about such unimportant matters by the time Shen Jiu received his cone, piled high with scoops of vanilla and matcha. The white and green matched his outfit and swiftly increased Shen Yuan’s risk of heart failure. My boyfriend… is really too cute…!
“Come here,” Shen Jiu ordered.
Shen Yuan obediently held out his chocolate ice cream for Shen Jiu to take a bite—or rather, to lick at it with his wet pink tongue. … Fuck.
“Mmh,” was Shen Jiu’s soft, pleased sound of enjoyment, which did not help. Shen Jiu licked a stray droplet from his bottom lip.
Shen Yuan swallowed. “Jiu-ge, let me try yours.”
“Fine.” Shen Jiu raised his cone, but Shen Yuan gently tugged it out of the way and leaned down to taste his lips instead. “Mmfh?!”
Shen Yuan laughed as he pulled back, accepting Shen Jiu’s red-faced and indignant smack to his shoulder.
“Sticky,” he commented.
“What did you expect?” Shen Jiu whispered furiously, glaring up at Shen Yuan. “Obviously, lip gloss and ice cream would be sticky—it’s your fault for stupidly kissing me out of nowhere!”
Shen Yuan tucked a strand of hair behind Shen Jiu’s ear, a cliché and sappy gesture he’d never understood until he started dating Shen Jiu. “I wasn’t complaining, Jiu-ge.”
Shen Jiu scowled. “How was that not complaining?”
Shen Yuan grinned as he gently clasped Shen Jiu’s hand. “Well, I think it’d be nice,” he said, fifty percent overblown charm, zero percent bullshit, and one hundred percent sincerity: “if we could stick together forever.”
Ah, Shen Jiu was so beautiful when he blushed. “Shen Yuan!!! ”