Work Text:
Let it be known that the only reason Luo Binghe and Mobei-Jun would only ever be in close quarters with each other without Sha Hualing acting as both buffer and instigator was during times of national emergency.
Presently, they are watching Shang Qinghua smack a hand on Shen Yuan's arm with a practiced pout from behind the Starbucks line, all hushed laughter and secret smiles. They're pushing and shoving at each other like children, comfortable in a way that both Mobei-Jun and Luo Binghe have not seen from them in other (their) company. Usually, Shang Qinghua was too fidgety, and Shen Yuan, according to Luo Binghe, was too dignified.
It's an embarrassing position to be in. Mobei-Jun was definitely raised better than to lower himself to this. Sha Hualing always found a way to excuse Luo Binghe's behavior, because Luo Binghe was, in the fondest way possible, off the rails, but Mobei-Jun could never get away from her judgmental eyes.
He opens his mouth, ready to say something simultaneously scathing and passive-aggressive, as is the way with close relations and family, but Luo Binghe is already bringing up his pointer finger in the universal motion for Mobei-Jun to shut the fuck up. He does, because Luo Binghe does not look very well right now. The poor boy could probably use a break.
"Look. Shen Yuan canceled our tutoring session this week. He never does that. Ever."
Mobei-Jun fails to understand what that has to do with the situation at hand. He didn't particularly care for their codependency bullshit. "So?"
"So? So?!" Luo Binghe growls, as though Mobei is the slow one here. "Look. He's canceling to hang out with Shang Qinghua. Canceling on what was supposed to be our private bonding time."
Okay. There were many things wrong with that statement. First off, though-- "You're paying him a disgusting amount of money to tutor you."
Unless times have changed, then that definitely didn't count as any kind of bonding. It sounds so much more like a college student looking for an extra buck. It also sounds so much more like gross misuse of the Luo fortune, but he guesses that Binghe isn't in the mood to debate on such trifles.
"Yeah. And?"
"In Math."
He picks at his glossy black nails, dismissive. "I don't see your point."
"A subject that you're already good at." Mobei continues, relentless.
"Then that's due to shizun's patience."
Bullshit. "Didn't you score a 98 in last year's finals?"
"Be quiet." Having had enough, Luo Binghe points an accusatory finger at him. "Don't think I don't know about you funding Shang Qinghua's stationery."
"So? It's just stationery."
"Ah yes, just stationery. And his half of the apartment rent, and most of his lunches, and all of this you do in secret, too, because all he pays you in return you give back to him via his fucking P.O. box, like some weirdo, when you could actually--"
Mobei's mouth closes with a click. "He'd never let me do it otherwise," he confides in Luo Binghe, because if anyone here would know about courting a person totally oblivious to said advances, it would be him.
Luo Binghe hums at him, sympathetic. "Shen Yuan is the same," he mutters. Silence reigns for a few moments until--
Stricken, Mobei says, "Shang Qinghua did say that if he were to ever date a man, it'd be Shen Yuan."
Luo Binghe blinks before he covers his face with his hands and screams into his palms at that. Mobei-Jun stares at his dramatics with a blank stare. The civilians who only wanted to enjoy their today steal looks at them, clutching their bags tighter to their sides as though to keep them safe and secure.
Mobei huffs. As if. He still has his late mother's collection of Alexander McQueen handbags in a closet at home. Why would he care for slim pickings from a department store?
Still, he understands that this is probably why Sha Hualing insisted that both of them should only really convene with someone there to act as stonewall during times of emergencies. They've talked about this at length. It's for the greater good, they said, considering how they only enable each other to go absolutely batshit.
The last time Mobei-Jun imparted his romantic wisdom Luo Binghe apparently grew a gray hair. The enforced distance is probably the only reason why neither of them is in prison yet. Binghe is kind of unhinged, and that's impressive, coming from someone who grew up in a household where his uncle stabbed his father once and his father retaliated by stealing his wife and having a son through her.
(Qinghua had turned pale the second Mobei-Jun brought up that story in passing, but both Binghe and Hualing only nodded, because what was family without a little blood debt in between them?)
The Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan thing? It isn't technically an emergency, but it's as good as one in Binghe's lovesick eyes.
"They're dating," he is mumbling now, appropriately horrified and verging on positively manic. "They totally are. I'm going to have to die old and alone because the love of my life is dating Shang Qinghua."
"Are you serious? You're telling me Qinghua and your tutor--" Mobei pauses then, as though he couldn't bear to even think about it, much less say it; Luo Binghe, with his teary eyes and sniffing, isn't any better, "--are dating?"
Luo Binghe nods in confirmation, a miserable frown marring his features, his expression the very picture of moody contemplation. Mobei-Jun thinks about how their high school's most venerated student council president is really a child in all but actual age. Mobei-Jun thinks about a lot of things in those three seconds-- from strangling himself and Binghe to luring Shang Qinghua into a box with noodles and never letting him back out again until he's sure there's no more Shen Yuans left in the vicinity to try and take him away-- never let it be said that he didn't have range.
"Don't make that face! I obviously hate it too!" Luo Binghe whisper-shouts in Mobei-Jun's general direction. Spiteful, he makes the same face again and elbows Binghe in the direction of his ribs for good measure. He never quite makes it, though, because the brat has already evaded the attack. Binghe's smirk after that is one that Mobei-Jun wants to burn off his face. Painfully.
God. Fuck this brat and his crazy agility. Fuck this brat and everything he stands for. Fuck this brat and his preppy little tutor, most especially.
"Oh, that's rich." Oh, so he said that out loud? Oops. "Calling shizun--"
"Shizun?" Mobei-Jun repeats, his face remaining impassive even as his voice conveyed just how disgusted he was.
"--preppy, when your family has only really made do because you've had years of generational wealth to back you up."
Mobei-Jun raises a hand to smack him but realizes that it only brings his Rolex, a shiny little thing that he's inherited from his father, into view.
Luo Binghe smirks at him because he's a vindictive little shit and Mobei-Jun definitely just proved his point like that. He definitely would've already pummeled this disrespectful brat to his death if Luo Binghe wouldn't have him on the floor in the same three seconds.
Priorities. He could think about physical violence later. Currently, he had bigger fish to fry, and it was a slippery little carp with glasses and a very carefully pressed Lacoste polo shirt. Mobei-Jun scoffs. Does Qinghua like it when his men dressed like suburban fathers going off to play golf? Since when? Last he'd accosted Qinghua's writing notes for clues on his ideal man, it had still been about that ice king that he has yet to name.
He imagines Qinghua modeling that black-haired and extremely tall man in his many stories after Shen Yuan. Mobei-Jun is very suddenly overcome with the need to break something.
"Why him?" he spits out, a little bitterly.
Now Luo Binghe looks insulted, turning to him with a scowl. "Why not him?" he demands like they weren't explicitly here to mope and be pathetically heartbroken.
Why not Shen Yuan, Luo Binghe asks. Why not Shen Yuan! Mobei-Jun tries to remember the breathing exercises his very expensive therapist got him into to help with his anger management issues. His uncle was not very pleased about that expense, but Mobei-Jun likes her. She's professional and talks to him like an adult and is extremely put upon whenever his uncle tries to push his agendas when they do the monthly family therapy circle. It's not a happy time, that's all he's saying. Not a happy time at all.
Unfortunately, Mobei-Jun finds that when he's in close proximity with the heir of the Luo fortune, all the progress that he's made towards patience and self-improvement all turns to smoke. That's probably why most teachers they share try to keep them apart. Together they have the shared impulse control of a toddler.
Said heir of the Luo fortune seems to have taken his silence for something else entirely because he continues, "Shizun's a real looker, you know? You're lucky it's him and not some rando off the street!"
"You're saying Shang Qinghua's the type to date some rando off the street?" he fires back, cold.
When the question comes out, he already knows it's a lost cause. Luo Binghe must have some loyalty for his friends, though, because that actually makes him pause, even if it takes considerable effort from him not to flat out say yeah, he doesn't look like he has high standards, let me be real honest with you.
"No," he strangles out, looking very put upon, "but y'know he could do a whole lot worse!"
"Oh, sure." Mobei-Jun scoffs, because just because it's true doesn't mean he won't fight to preserve Qinghua's questionable honor. "I'm sure Shen Yuan's bowl cut is a real hit, Binghe."
Binghe makes a noise like Mobei-Jun's insulted his whole ancestral line and then ran off with their family heirloom.
"Well, guess what!" he shoves him so that Mobei falls off his center and loses his footing a little. "It is! Wish I could say the same for Shang Qinghua's haute couture eyebags!"
Mobei steps forward and presses a finger to Binghe's chest. "You take that back," he snarls.
Luo Binghe is hysterical. "You take it back!"
Mobei-Jun is nearly ready to launch himself at him, Luo Binghe's years in martial arts training be damned, but:
"What is going on here," comes a voice, and when they turn around simultaneously to look at the speaker, both in similarly ridiculously fighting stances, they see Shen Yuan raising an eyebrow at them, looking very unimpressed as he pushes his glasses up his nose. Behind him, Shang Qinghua is latched to his arm, looking equally confused as he takes a sip from his iced coffee.
Qinghua is charmingly in hamster mode; a writing deadline must be near, because his hair is in a haphazard bun and some acne has formed on the cleft of his chin. Even exhausted as all hell, he still looks cute as shit. This realization kind of makes Mobei-Jun sort of want to kill himself.
"Shizun," Luo Binghe steps back from him, his voice turning sickly sweet. Disgusting. Two-faced. Absolutely wretched. "Hi."
Qinghua looks up at Shen Yuan. "Shizun?" he repeats, looking disgruntled. "Really?"
"Inside joke," Shen Yuan waves off. "I already told you this." Then, to Binghe, "What are you doing here? ... With Mobei-Jun."
Mobei-Jun tries not to glare at him. Qinghua's head turns in his direction, frantic, as though only noticing him now, which is saying a lot about how sleep-deprived he must be. Usually, he's the first to notice if Mobei is in the room. "My king!" he yells.
"My king, what the fuck," Shen Yuan says under his breath. Mobei-Jun hates him a little bit more.
Why does he sound so judgmental when his student is calling him shizun like this is one of Shang Qinghua's attempts at a danmei novel? Or ... is that just how Shen Yuan sounds like? No wonder Luo Binghe likes him so much, then. His degradation kink is no secret to anyone whose spent three minutes in the same vicinity (within five, it's no longer a secret and instead something he shoves down your throat, because that way it becomes your problem along with his).
"Inside joke," Shang Qinghua counters, though the real incident (which involved an extemporaneous two-man act, the theater club, and the loss of Qinghua's already questionable dignity) could be described as more of a hard-earned lesson in trauma bonding than an inside joke, "anyway-- my king, what's wrong? Don't you have finals this week?"
Mobei-Jun blinks. The truth is: he did have finals, and he's studied most of the material in a rage-induced blur after Luo Binghe told him about Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua, but he couldn't possibly tell Shang Qinghua about that without a blow to his ego.
"Yes," he affirms instead, because he does have finals.
Shang Qinghua tilts his head. "Why are you here, then? Not that you aren't allowed to be wherever you want, don't get me wrong-- you're free to go anywhere and--"
Shen Yuan rolls his eyes and flicks Qinghua on the forehead, which startles him out of his rambling. Mobei-Jun, who was always been inexplicably charmed by Qinghua's rants, frowns. Then, realizing he still has to answer the question, he frowns even harder.
He honestly didn't think that far ahead and had no excuses planned, especially because this whole operation was based on pure impulse. Mildly, he jerks his head towards Luo Binghe, content to let him take the fall for this whole situation seeing as he's the one whose dug them into this.
But because Luo Binghe is perfect in all things, including but not limited to lying, emotional manipulation, and being an absolute shithead, he says, smoothly, "We were going to find someplace to eat. We need our energy to study, after all."
Shen Yuan wrinkles his nose, incredulous. Beside him, way too close to be comfortable, Shang Qinghua snorts out a cute little snorty laugh. Luo Binghe glares at him. Mobei-Jun wants to scream himself hoarse and roll to the floor. His face probably stays eerily still, though. Something he got from his mother's side of the family. Bless her soul. Her genes save Mobei-Jun from extreme amounts of embarrassment every day.
"Were you going to fistfight for the honor of settling that decision?" Shen Yuan raises an eyebrow.
They both nod in unison, determined to see this lie through the end. Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua stare at them like they want to ask but are too tired to do so. Finally, Luo Binghe's tutor sighs.
Based on Luo Binghe's extravagant oversharing, Shen Yuan isn't a pushover, not in any sense of the word; he didn't do what he didn't have to, but he did what he should well enough, and while most people often asked more of him, Luo Binghe admired the way he did everything by his own terms, no matter what it was. There was … more purple prose in Luo Binghe's original statement, but Mobei-Jun is summarizing it for mental health reasons.
"Don't let Luo Binghe pull you into his schemes," Shen Yuan warns Mobei, as though he hasn't known this kid long enough to know that there was just no getting out of anything Luo Binghe wanted done. "He's a handful most days. When he gets ideas into his head, he's even worse."
Mobei-Jun only looks at him until Shen Yuan sighs again (damn, the suburban dad theory feels very, very real right now) and turns back to Shang Qinghua. Well. It's not Mobei's fault that he and Luo Binghe were constantly at odds and that they very often brought out the worst in each other. He wouldn't even be suffering in his company if it wasn't for--
"You should eat with us!" Qinghua chirps. Shen Yuan turns to him sharply at the suggestion. Instead of deflating as he usually does, Qinghua only frowns and tugs at his arm. "What? A-Yuan, come on! It'll be fine. It's close to lunchtime, anyway."
Luo Binghe looks like he's very close to murder, a tic in his eye ever since he heard A-Yuan from Shang Qinghua's mouth. Mobei-Jun understands the feeling. He doesn't even remember the last time Qinghua's smiled at him without looking a little shaky, but now he's apparently speaking his mind and calling Binghe's tutor A-Yuan. Hasn't Qinghua known Mobei-Jun longer than this A-Yuan? Why is Shen Yuan so high on his list, then?! It doesn't make sense!
"Hmph," Shen Yuan concedes. "Fine. But you're paying."
"The hell? Seriously? Bro, I'm broke."
"I'll pay for Qinghua," Mobei-Jun immediately volunteers as tribute. Qinghua blinks, processing, and then he turns red and splutters, "No! No, no, you don't need to--"
"Good. It's settled, then. To make things fair, I'll pay for shizun!" Luo Binghe says, catching his eye. Mobei-Jun gives him a minute nod. They're going to have to work together for this to work and experience (several group projects) has shown that they're practically unstoppable together.
"Fair, you say." Shen Yuan says, peering up at both of them from behind his glasses. Like this, Mobei-Jun understands why he might be attractive: sharp, hawklike eyes, and a genial, perfectly affable face, clear like a mountain stream.
Qinghua pops out from behind him. Chubby cheeked and soft and absolutely lovely, big eyes that didn't give away any of his razor-sharp intelligence and wry humor, the way even when he was tired and sad and upset, he could always hold his ground. Hair that always framed his face just right, and when done genuinely, a smile that could disarm anyone in its range. Firm, and absolutely beautiful, and the best ass that the world will ever get to see--
"Of course, shizun, I--"
"How is it fair? Aren't you both younger than we are?"
Qinghua makes a noise like a protest. "Dude," he whines, but Shen Yuan already barrels on, "I'll pay for us all."
Sour, Mobei-Jun says, "I don't need it." And he didn't. Shen Yuan is definitely way over his head if he thought that Mobei-Jun would concede just like that! This was a battle of wills!
"I don't either!" Luo Binghe insists.
Shang Qinghua frowns, because while everyone else in his group of friends was filthy rich, he, on the other hand, did need the treating. Mobei-Jun opens his mouth to tell him that his offer still stands, but Shen Yuan only nods, looking pleased as though everything is now in its natural order, before reaching out to take Qinghua's hand and dragging him along. "Let's go, then."
"Bro," Qinghua whines, pulling at his wrist, "bro, please, I have no money--"
"I'll cover you, okay," Shen Yuan snaps, frustrated like this was meant to be obvious. Maybe it was. Qinghua laughs then, crowding into Shen Yuan's space, suddenly so touchy now that his needs have been met, batting his eyelashes up at Shen Yuan. Why is it so easy for him to take freebies from Shen Yuan? Every time Mobei offered, it was always refused viciously!
"So you do love me."
"What-- shut up, get off me!"
"No."
"Leech!"
Beside him, he hears Luo Binghe take several big, shuddering breaths. "Mobei," and there. "If I kill the love of your life, will you forgive me?"
He thinks about it. And then he thinks about it some more. "No," is what he finally settles on.
Luo Binghe sneers, but it's an exhausted sort of sneer. "Figured."
"Luo Binghe! What are you lagging behind for?"
Luo Binghe softens almost immediately. "Coming, shizun," he calls out, suddenly playing the part of a tenderhearted maiden. Mobei wants to give him shit for that, he truly does, but he kind of gets it. Shang Qinghua's looking back at them with big, curious eyes. Mobei-Jun wants to punch his fist through the wall.
Dating. Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan, dating.
Oh. That's definitely gonna be hard to stomach.
"We gotta split them up," Binghe whispers in his direction, eyes shining with unconcealed determination.
Mobei-Jun stares at him. "You're a horrible, horrible person." Binghe looks unaffected, but that's not surprising at all. What did he expect from him honestly? "We don't even know if they're dating."
"True. There's no confirmation. We could be jumping to conclusions. But they have matching necklaces. You noticed."
"I did," it was disgusting and ugly and - you know what, "that could be like a friendship bracelet."
Binghe stares at him, unimpressed. "You don't really strike me as an optimist."
"Luo Binghe," Shen Yuan calls again, his voice sharper. "Come." Like whistling for a particularly disobedient puppy.
Binghe sighs. "We'll talk about this later."
Looking at Shang Qinghua tucked into Shen Yuan's arm, eyes crinkled and genuinely smiling, the kind of smile that knocks people out, Mobei-Jun thinks oh yeah, definitely.