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Chapter Text

“Motherfucker!”

Luo Binghe, having been attempting to fall back asleep, reluctantly opened his eyes. His phone showed that it was just after 1am: a normal time for college students to be still awake, he assumed, but his morning shift at the bakery started in threehours, and fuck, he was so tired. 

“No, I gave the wrong gift – Airplane you fuck. That’s my boyfriend!! Get the fuck away!!”

Luo Binghe had not seen his neighbor once since the semester started. His door decorations said his name was Shen Yuan, but they seemed to have opposite schedules. The only time Luo Binghe even knew his neighbor was alive was at night, when Shen Yuan began… doing whatever he did at night that caused so much cursing.

Usually, Luo Binghe tried to ignore it. He wanted to be a good neighbor, he wanted to make friends, he wanted–

“MARNIE, WHY THE FUCK AREN’T YOU HOME?”

–to get some goddamn sleep.

Grumbling, a headache forming behind his temples, Luo Binghe slid out of bed and shuffled out to the hall. He knocked on Shen Yuan’s door hard enough to rattle the frame.

“Ah! Fuck. Hold on, I think someone’s knocking.”

A clattering noise from behind the door. What sounded like a body hitting the floor. A muffled curse. And finally, the door opened.

Behind Shen Yuan’s door, at ass-o-clock in the morning, was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Dark curls cascaded down his shoulders, which were bare - the man was wearing black-and-red flannel pajama pants, and nothing else. His abs looked actually sculpted. Like, there was no way real living people looked like that.

The man was just staring down at Shen Yuan. His eyes were a peculiar shade of brown that almost looked more red in the fluorescent hallway lighting, and combined with his long lashes, he reminded Shen Yuan of a deer. But like, in a positive way! A very handsome deer! Not that Shen Yuan thought he was handsome – he was handsome, objectively, but –

Oops, the handsome deer man was speaking (with a very nice voice, deep, a little growl-y but maybe that was the time of night) and Shen Yuan absolutely did not catch any of that.

“Aha, sorry, can you repeat that? I was, uh… lost in thought.”

“There was a lot of yelling,” Handsome Deer Man said, “and I was trying to sleep.”

Oh! “Oh, shit, sorry,” Shen Yuan’s hands began fluttering as he laughed nervously. “I was playing a game - you know Stardew Valley? Maybe you don’t, you look like you probably play sports or go to the gym instead of gaming, which is good, exercise is great–” What the fuck am I saying?!

Handsome Deer Man cut him off, for which Shen Yuan was immensely grateful. “It’s alright. I work mornings, though, so I’d appreciate if you could yell a little quieter.”

“Absolutely. Only very quiet yelling from now on.” Shen Yuan’s voice was approaching a not-very-quiet yell, and he tried to reign in his nerves to avoid blowing out Handsome Deer Man’s ears. “Sorry again. Are you one of the rooms next door then?”

“Yes, I’m to your left. Luo Binghe.”

“Oh, hi! Yes! I’ve been wondering who you were. I mean, I see the name on your door every day but haven’t seen you at all, so it’s nice to put a face to the name! I’m Shen Yuan. But you probably saw my door, haha.”

“I did,” Luo Binghe said with a small (absolutely devastating, put that thing away!) grin. “But likewise. I need to go back to sleep, but maybe one day you can show me your game?”

“Oh sure! Any time! You know where to find me, haha. I’m really sorry again for keeping you awake!!”

“It’s no problem. Nice to meet you, Shen Yuan.” With that, Luo Binghe gave that little grin again and a wave, and retreated to his own bedroom.

Shutting the door, Shen Yuan leaned against the back of it, his heart beating oddly fast. Probably just from the shock of a social interaction when he wasn’t expecting it. He tried to take a couple deep breaths, then picked up his chair from where he’d tripped over it in his haste to get up and put his headphones back on.

“Hey, I’m back. …Yeah, I woke up my neighbor. Well maybe I wouldn’t be yelling if you’d keep your hands off my crops!”

“Our crops, comrade,” said the tinny voice from his headphones. “So, this the neighbor you’ve never seen?”

He gave one last look at his door before picking the controller back up. “Yeah. He seemed nice. He probably hates me now, though.”

Luo Binghe’s only thought, as he walked away from Shen Yuan’s door, was: “I want to be that man’s wife.”

This was an entirely new thought for him. If you asked any woman on campus, Luo Binghe was a player. A heartbreaker. He was always down to clown, so to speak, but he was in it for a good time, not a long time. Rarely had he been seen with the same girl for longer than a week, and never longer than a month.

Now in his second year of university, Luo Binghe didn’t mind his reputation. If anything, it made his life easier; people knew him, knew of him, and it was clear what they expected from him. To other guys, he was someone to envy: his good looks, his full ride scholarship as an athlete, his perfect grades that seemed effortless. To women, he was the ideal boyfriend: hot, attentive, excellent in bed. To teachers, he was the perfect student, a pleasure to have in class. No interaction was a surprise to Luo Binghe; he could read people as easily as any book, and he always knew how to present himself as exactly as he wanted to be seen.

Somehow, the cute little nerd next door had scrambled his brain. He noticed how Shen Yuan looked at him, and yet during their entire conversation, he could only think of how badly he wanted Shen Yuan to never look away. He could see behind the smaller man how messy his room had been; Luo Binghe wanted to clean it. He wanted to tidy up the clothes from the floor so Shen Yuan wouldn’t trip over them, wanted to make him a nice meal to put some meat on those bones and go on walks outside so Shen Yuan wouldn’t be quite so pale. Yes, he wanted to fuck Shen Yuan, but he also wanted to kiss him gently and wrap him in a blanket and snuggle up together to watch a movie.

These weren’t urges Luo Binghe had really had before. Sure, he’d cared for others before – when his mother was undergoing chemo, he’d happily helped take care of her, but he didn’t feel the urge to do so like he did now. That was a need; this was a want .

Well. Luo Binghe was nothing if not adaptable. He’d figure out how to make Shen Yuan see him as wife material, mold himself into the perfect man to fit at Shen Yuan’s side. How hard could it be?

Chapter Text

Shen Yuan kept his promise: he “quiet yelled” while he was playing video games, and did not further interrupt Luo Binghe’s sleep for the rest of the week. If Luo Binghe pushed his bed against the wall to better hear Shen Yuan’s muffled voice, well, that was his own business. 

Still, with nothing interrupting his sleep now, Luo Binghe had a new problem: he had no real reason to talk to Shen Yuan at night. Oh, talking to him during the day would’ve been fine, of course… if Shen Yuan was ever home. After three days of trying to catch Shen Yuan returning to the dorms and never quite seeing him, it became clear that their schedules were just too opposite; trying to arrange a “natural” run-in was not going to work.

Thus, Luo Binghe accepted his first casualty in the war to become Shen Yuan’s wife: his sleep schedule. At eleven at night, four days after having met him, Luo Binghe simply knocked on Shen Yuan’s door. In his hands, he held a platter of leftover baked goods: half offering to his future husband, half convenient excuse.

“Luo Binghe!” Shen Yuan looked excited to see him, though his face quickly turned repentant. “Did I wake you up again? I’m so sorry, I’ll be quieter.”

“No need to apologize, you didn’t wake me.” Luo Binghe held out the plate. “I work at a bakery, and we had a lot left over that was just going to be thrown out. I thought maybe you’d want some?” Really, it wasn’t even a lie. Binghe had gone back to the bakery after his shift and his afternoon classes, let himself in with the spare key, and whipped up a few extra things. They wouldn’t have been sellable anyway – half of them weren’t even on the menu.

Shen Yuan’s eyes were wide as he eyed a particularly large cookie sitting precariously at the top of the pile. “That’s so nice, Binghe! Should I just grab one?”

Binghe! He called me Binghe! Luo Binghe worked to keep his face neutral. “Honestly, if you want the whole plate, go for it. I’ve eaten myself sick of baked goods.” Also not a lie; he had to make sure everything was up to his standards before it could be served to his future husband.

Shen Yuan took the cookie with one hand and the rest of the plate with the other. Luo Binghe was glad he was no longer holding it, because he was absolutely not prepared for the noise that came out of Shen Yuan’s mouth when he took a bite. That noise was going to haunt his dreams.

“Binghe! This is fantastic , holy shit!!” The cookie disappeared in seconds. Shen Yuan looked at his empty hand with dismay. Luo Binghe considered dropping out of school and shackling himself to Shen Yuan’s bed. “What’s the name of the bakery?”

Shen Yuan, visit the bakery? Where there were multiple bakers, and he might not get Luo Binghe’s cookies?? Like hell that was going to happen. “Actually, I made these earlier; if you really like them, I’ll bring more.”

“What?? No, you don’t have to do that!”

“It’s no problem, really. I bake in the kitchenette all the time.” That one was a lie, but he didn’t think Shen Yuan was around during the day enough to call him out on it. Luo Binghe hated the kitchenette. It was a dreadful place, eternally a little greasy no matter how much it was cleaned (which was not often), with moldy leftovers loose in the fridge and housing the world’s strangest collection of utensils. The first and only time he tried to bake in there, he’d seen that the singular cake pan had a hole burnt through the center, and had walked directly back out.

But Luo Binghe would brave the dorm kitchens for Shen Yuan. The things he did for love.

“That… I mean, if you’re already baking… But I wouldn’t want to mooch off you!!” As he spoke, Shen Yuan ate little pieces off a croissant mindlessly, not even noticing he was still eating.

“Well…” Luo Binghe pretended to think. “I was curious about that game you were playing. I’ve never played a video game. Maybe you could teach me?”

“You’ve NEVER played a video game? That’s– NEVER?? We HAVE to fix that.” And with that, Shen Yuan finally stopped eating and pulled Luo Binghe into his room by the sleeve. “Never played a video game! We’ll have to start you with the classics, like Pokemon. No, wait, maybe something competitive? I wonder who’d you main in Smash…”

As Shen Yuan rambled, Luo Binghe couldn’t help but smile widely. This had worked so much better than he ever could’ve planned.

Chapter Text

To become Shen Yuan’s wife, Luo Binghe devised a three step plan.

Step 1 was to figure out what Shen Yuan wanted in a wife.

Honestly, after the Cookie Incident, this step was the easiest to complete. The more he baked for Shen Yuan, the clearer it was that the way to the man’s heart was through his stomach. Shen Yuan also clearly wanted someone he could praise, judging by how often he accepted Luo Binghe’s baked good offerings with effusive complements and, if Luo Binghe was very lucky, a pat on the head.

Luo Binghe would die to get more headpats. He began mentally cataloguing when he got them, trying to figure out what the throughlines were. Figuring out that Shen Yuan pat him more often when his hair was down was a massive breakthrough; Luo Binghe happily gave up wearing ponytails and braids and let his natural curls grow more unruly. He threw his hair straightener away with a look of disgust; he wouldn’t be using that ever again.

Ultimately, it seemed Shen Yuan was happiest when he was being fed; when he was getting to praise Luo Binghe; and when he got to teach and share his interests, as Luo Binghe learned from their video game “lessons.” Luo Binghe wasn’t a total caveman– he’d played some games growing up, usually at other classmates’ houses, but had not really seen the appeal, and certainly had never had the chance to get good at them. After several weeks of nightly game time with Shen Yuan, though, he felt he could hold his own against his future husband. Luo Binghe won Mario Kart about every third game, now (and got several headpats and compliments each time).

It was during one such gaming session that Luo Binghe discovered his most powerful weapon in the war to win Shen Yuan’s heart. His curls, left untamed and growing out, had begun to get in his face. One curl in particular was insistent on getting in his eyes. Desperately trying to keep his eyes on the screen, he tried not to blink, and combined with the curl poking his eye, he began to tear up right as Dry Bowser crossed the finish line in second.

“Ha!” Shen Yuan gave a little fist pump as he threw the controller down. “3 to 0, one race to go! That one was close though, good job–” and he looked over at Luo Binghe, his eyes widening as he reached out to touch a palm to Luo Binghe’s cheek, Shen Yuan’s thumb wiping away the wetness from his eyes. “What are these tears for, hmm? Surely a grown man like you doesn’t need to cry over a game,” he fussed, his other hand brushing the hair out of Luo Binghe’s face.

The man in question was too shocked to correct Shen Yuan’s misunderstanding. Shen Yuan was touching his face. He was pinching his cheeks and running his fingers through his hair and looked a second from climbing into Luo Binghe’s lap to hug him.

He tried to bring a few more tears to the surface, and could tell he was successful when Shen Yuan tsked and put his arms around Luo Binghe, tucked his chin over the other’s shoulder, and made soothing noises. “There’s still a race left, Binghe. But even if you lose, it’s okay. I’ll teach you ‘til you’re even better than me.”

“Not possible,” Luo Binghe muttered, trying to disguise how he was smelling Shen Yuan’s neck. “Sorry, laoshi.”

“Laoshi! What!” Luo Binghe mourned the loss of Shen Yuan’s warmth as his future husband bopped him on the head gently with his open palm. “I’m not your laoshi!”

“You’ve taught me so much about games, though. It seems fitting.”

Shen Yuan was getting a little red in the cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no need for all that. Laoshi, what nonsense.”

“Alright… then, perhaps, can I call you A-Yuan?”

Shen Yuan– his A-Yuan– made a noise not unlike a teakettle. It took several rounds of back-and-forth, winning the last race, and well-timed tears to get Shen Yuan to agree to the name. Luo Binghe considered it his greatest accomplishment yet.

Step 2 in Luo Binghe’s plan was to show Shen Yuan how good of a wife he could be. 

Baking often, while integral to his plan, was only the beginning. At first, Luo Binghe started small: things like smoothing out the blankets before sitting on Shen Yuan’s bed, or relocating snack wrappers to the trash can (though there were less wrappers now that Binghe was cooking for him). 

Slowly, as Shen Yuan got more comfortable with another person in his space, Luo Binghe ramped up his efforts until he was singlehandedly keeping Shen Yuan’s room neat and tidy. A-Yuan complained often that Luo Binghe was doing “too much, Binghe, you aren’t a housemaid” but now that he’d discovered the power of his tears, those complaints quickly withered.

Luo Binghe also began interacting with Shen Yuan in the light of day. Sometimes this meant coaxing his future husband into getting out of bed for lunch, instead of rolling out of bed with just enough time to make it to his afternoon classes. Other times, it was to get Shen Yuan to go on a walk together when the weather was nice.

Truly, this was the easiest part of Luo Binghe’s plan. Which was good, because the next part was the hardest, and he’d need all the strength he could muster.

Chapter Text

The most important part of his plan was Step 3: under no circumstances must Shen Yuan find out about his reputation. This would, Binghe feared, spoil their relationship entirely. Shen Yuan might get the wrong impression about Binghe’s intentions! It might jeopardize Binghe’s role as A-Yuan’s future wife!!

When they were alone together, keeping his reputation on the down low was no problem. But now that they were regularly going to lunch, Binghe had quickly discovered a major downside to spending time with A-Yuan during the day:

“Junshang.”

Other people.

“Mobei.”

“Cucumber-bro??”

“Airplane! Oh, do I have words for you–”

It turned out, both Binghe and Shen Yuan had friends (or, in Binghe’s case, teammates) who ate lunch in the same dining hall. And they would not. Leave. Them. Alone.

Mobei-Jun (why they called him that, no one was certain) was apparently dating Shen Yuan’s… friend? Nemesis? Shang Qinghua, who was also the person Shen Yuan liked to yell at while he was gaming. They were both part of the same club, which streamed video games to raise money for charity. 

Shen Yuan’s beautiful face, combined with his sailor’s mouth, was a big draw for donations. Binghe tried (unsuccessfully) not to be jealous of strangers who had given money to children with cancer.

Mobei and Shang Qinghua became regulars at lunch, with a rotating cast of others who dropped by throughout the week. The only benefit to this – and he begrudged that it was a benefit at all – was that Binghe was quickly learning a lot more about his A-Yuan, more than he would’ve discovered just playing games with and cooking for the other man. He learned Shen Yuan was a grad student and teaching assistant thanks to Ming Fan and Ning Yingying, two first-year students who looked at Shen Yuan with stars in their eyes when they were invited to sit at their lunch table on Wednesdays. He learned that Shen Yuan had graduated early thanks to Mu Qingfang, a medical student, who had apparently shared a class with Shen Yuan in undergrad and was happy to reconnect at lunch on Fridays.

Mostly, though, Binghe hated lunch. He hated sharing Shen Yuan. And he quickly grew to hate Tuesdays and Thursdays especially, because on those days… he had to deal with his least favorite teammate and now, attempted husband-usurper.

“Hey.”

“Qingge! Good to see you. How are you? How’s your sister?”

“Fine.” Liu Qingge glared at Luo Binghe. They’d been on bad terms ever since Binghe had met (and slept with) Liu Mingyan, who he still considered a good friend, unlike her brother.

Liu Qingge could hate him all he wanted; as long as he didn’t go blabbing to Shen Yuan about his previous conquests, Binghe didn’t care. Thankfully, Liu Qingge was a man of extremely few words.

“And your classes are going well?”

“Fine. Here.” The stoic man pushed a bowl full of snap peas onto Shen Yuan’s tray. “You need green on your plate.”

“I’m not gonna keel over if I don’t eat a vegetable at every meal,” Shen Yuan grumbled, though he immediately began eating the snap peas with reluctance. Binghe fumed silently, piling his own offerings onto Shen Yuan’s tray as the other man sputtered.

“Binghe! Qingge! That’s too much!!”

Shang Qinghua snickered. He had a bad habit of talking with his mouth full, his cheeks puffed out like a hamster’s. “Glad to see someone’s looking after you, finally.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Shen Yuan bristled. “I can take care of myself!”

“Big words from the grad student that still lives in the dorms and has a meal plan.”

“It’s convenient!! And they’re quads, not dorm rooms! Tell him, Binghe.”

“They’re quads,” Binghe said obediently. “It’s different.”

“Literally the only difference is that you share a bathroom with four people instead of twenty. It’s a fucking dorm.”

Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan devolved into their usual bickering, and Binghe spent the rest of lunch glaring at Liu Qingge over Shen Yuan’s head. So, business as usual – until Liu Qingge broke his silence.

“Mingyan wants you at her party on Saturday.”

The argument stopped in its tracks as Shen Yuan looked over with a grin. “Right, it’s her birthday this weekend!”

“You know Liu Mingyan?” Binghe asked.

Surprisingly, it was not Shen Yuan who answered, but Shang Qinghua. “Everyone in the comparative literature department knows each other, Binghe.” He shivered. “Everyone.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Shen Yuan said with an eye roll. “But yes, we’re both in comp lit. She’s doing her capstone project with Professor Qingqi.”

“God, what a woman,” Shang Qinghua sighed. “If I were straight, it’d be her for me.”

“Don’t objectify people in my department!”

“I’m not objectifying her!!”

“There’s a party this weekend?” Binghe asked in an attempt to guide the conversation back on track.

“You weren’t invited,” Liu Qingge hissed, only to be lightly smacked by Shen Yuan.

“Nonsense, he’ll be my plus one. Besides, Mingyan will love him.”

Liu Qingge opened his mouth to say something, but Binghe quickly and “accidentally” knocked his now lukewarm tea over onto the other man’s pants. 

“Oh! So sorry, I’m so clumsy.” Binghe smiled with all his teeth showing. “My bad. You should probably go change and rinse those before the stain sets in.”

Was it dignified? No. But was it successful at shutting Liu Qingge up? Extremely. Liu Qingge left in a huff as Binghe and Shen Yuan quickly took everyone’s napkins to try and mop up the tea on the table. His A-Yuan reassured him that it wasn’t his fault (even though it was) and that surely Qingge wouldn’t be mad at him about an accident (he would, but Binghe didn’t care).

And, most importantly, Shen Yuan assured him that he’d bring Binghe to the party. It was great for Binghe’s plans that he assumed Binghe would go with him, as if they were an inseparable unit already. 

Mingyan had, in fact, invited Binghe as well… and, he knew, several other women who Binghe had previously had flings with. That was… less good.