Work Text:
Shen Yuan doesn’t know a lot of things about Shen Jiu.
Shen Jiu doesn’t talk about his family. Shen Jiu doesn’t mention any other friends. Shen Jiu keeps quiet about the Red Warm Pavillion. Shen Jiu doesn’t like being asked where he grew up.
But Shen Yuan knows enough.
Shen Yuan knows how Shen Jiu’s heart softens at the mention of the things he enjoys.
Shen Yuan knows that Shen Jiu is shy, but fond of the small acts of affection that Shen Yuan shares with him.
Shen Yuan knows Shen Jiu quietly aches at night, and there would be tears clinging to his lashes.
Shen Yuan knows that Shen Jiu is happy whenever he is around to support and cherish him.
Shen Yuan knows that Shen Jiu truly… Shen Jiu genuinely loves him.
Shen Yuan who barged in his life one day when Shen Jiu became a disciple.
Shen Yuan who rudely announced his presence by befriending him.
Shen Yuan who, decidedly and stubbornly, stuck himself to him and never left.
Shen Yuan, who loved him first, and continued to love him every second, every day, weeks, months, and years that Shen Jiu grew alongside him.
But Shen Yuan… regretfully, doesn’t know the birthday of his beloved. Something that is engraved deeply within him to acknowledge, celebrate, and cherish. In the modern world, not a loved one’s birthday has passed without a single person remembering.
Shen Yuan still carried those sentiments in this different world, longing for the fateful day when he could be grateful that the one for him had been born.
Even so, it is not so important. Shen Yuan already guessed, as he had with most of the things he never knew, that his lover himself does not know of his birthday. It is of no matter, in the end.
He is already grateful whenever he wakes, simply that someone as lovely as Shen Jiu exists, and exists with him.
Clumsily, Shen Yuan prepares a sloppy version of a cake. He is untalented in this aspect, but as someone with a lover obsessed with sweets, his efforts would be fruitful enough.
“A-Yuan?”
Shen Yuan felt hands snake around his waist from behind, a short, sleepy head coming to rest on his shoulder.
Shen Yuan hummed and pressed a kiss to his beloved Qingqiu’s forehead, rewarded with a brief smile that bloomed on Shen Jiu’s face.
“What are you making this time?” Shen Jiu rasped behind him, swaying them both in a slow side-to-side dance.
“A cake layered with cacao. You know, the one I requested from Shang Qinghua a few months ago?”
“Mmh. It smelled bitter back then. Does it taste good?”
“I was just plating it up, try it?”
Shen Jiu nodded, and Shen Yuan took that as the cue to hand-feed his beloved with a small spoonful. Shen Yuan waited nervously for Shen Jiu to give his feedback, although Shen Jiu had never said that any of the things he made was bad.
“How is it?”
“Sweet. It’s lovely.” Shen Jiu smiled softly, picking up the spoon to grab more for himself.
Shen Yuan’s heart celebrated once again, the love he feels for this man so overwhelming. He thinks his heart might beat out of his body.
Seeing his shy and victorious smile, Shen Jiu leaned up to kiss him, only to chuckle as he drew back.
“My bad,” Shen Jiu said, cradling Shen Yuan’s cheek and rubbing it gently.
“What for?”
“I smeared the filling over your lips,” Shen Jiu replied as he wiped the corner of Shen Yuan’s lips with a finger. Shen Yuan only chuckled in return, completely enamored with his beloved.
“What is it for?”
“Hmmm?” Shen Yuan asked, distracted at the lovely Shen Jiu he has every morning.
Shen Jiu flicked his forehead, “This cake. You said before that you want to make them when there are occasions.”
Shen Yuan thought carefully about his answer. There was nothing particular that is remembered by everyone at this date. It's just…
The fateful day in early autumn, when Shen Jiu had looked so beautiful. He had stood among the vast landscape of Qing Jing, but he alone had outshone them all.
Shen Jiu’s presence was like the lick of the cooling breeze, and also the gentle warmth of the last rays of sun. Shen Yuan had asked him then, if he was happy.
Shen Jiu had said he was not.
He had been named ‘Shen Qingqiu’ then, which stood for ‘Clear Autumn’.
Shen Jiu’s heart had been void, so Shen Yuan told him: “Then let me tell you. Shen Qingqiu is the most important person to me. The sentiment behind his name does not matter, it is the person who bears it. He is the sole person who fulfills my heart, and who taught me how to part with my pains.”
“To this Shen Yuan, Shen Qingqiu is the fiery person I fell in love with.”
Shen Yuan had seen then, how Shen Jiu let go of his fears and doubts, embraced his authentic self, and succumbed to the sharp winds of emotion.
Shen Qingqiu had cried. Shen Qingqiu embraced him. Most importantly, Shen Qingqiu loved him.
It was as though he had been reborn. The gait in his shoulders grew steadier, less with the burdens he carried. His steps were light, but stronger and more assured. Shen Qingqiu’s smile was more genuine, more frequent, his entire being slowly returning to its true freedom.
Now Shen Qingqiu waited patiently for his answer. But instead, Shen Yuan tightly held him. Shen Qingqiu must have thought he would not speak, until he heard Shen Yuan whisper, soft and true:
“It’s the day you became the loveliest person in the world.”