protagonisthalo | [closed post] date night

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[closed post] date night

By the mansion's calendar, it has now been about six months since that first time Luo Binghe cooked for Shen Yuan. He had been terrified then, desperate to be with Shen Yuan but entirely unable to read what he was thinking. They barely knew each other—Luo Binghe had only just found out his beloved's name—but already, the glimpses he'd stolen of what was underneath Shen Yuan's easily-flustered façade had him frantic with the need to know more.

That intensity has barely dimmed. Now he knows Shen Yuan much better, between what Shen Yuan has told him, what Luo Binghe has guessed from his expressions, and what they've shared through dreams. Yet his greed remains ravenous. He needs to fill his eyes with Shen Yuan every day, to hear his words, to kiss him until they're both gasping for air. He needs to know what troubles him, what delights him, what Luo Binghe might do to keep him interested and affectionate. He has long split his obsessions between power, marriage and revenge. Now all his focus is narrowed to one target, like a beam of sunlight concentrated to a pinpoint hot enough to burn.

And now that Dark is over, he can once again channel some of that focus into cooking. Even though he cooks for Shen Yuan daily, he has put no less effort into this meal than that first one back in the month of Idas. Since they are celebrating the end of Dark, he has made longevity noodles with prawns. To accompany them is stir-fried amaranth greens with ginger and minced tofu, pork jiaozi with a black vinegar dipping sauce, fried mushooms, tea-pickled lotus root, and for dessert, almond jelly with slices of ripe persimmon. To the side, he places a jar of warmed green plum wine.

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Shen Yuan isn't nervous. It would be silly to be nervous for a date night with Binghe, when basically all they do is have dates. But it's—kind of a little bit their anniversary. Right? And when he'd suggested dating to Binghe it had been—not like a test, really, but a sort of stopgap measure, to make sure it's really what he wanted—that Shen Yuan was really what he wanted, and not just the first, like, easy pretty boy who was nice to him.

It's been six months, now, and somehow Binghe is still his. Just his, has never even really flirted with anyone else where Shen Yuan can see.¹ Isn't it—shouldn't he, like, do something?? About it?? He doesn't know what—he doesn't know what he can give Binghe that Binghe doesn't already have, or tell him that he doesn't already know. But it's making him—not nervous, but a little excited. Plus, they've both been a little bit excited in general lately, ever since they started actually talking more, ever since Shen Yuan cut his hair, like he'd managed to sever himself from Shen Qingqiu in some more major way than before, and in the process brought himself closer to Binghe's side.

As he comes into the little dining room, and into the heavenly cloud of delicious food smell, he can hear someone in another room, distant but distinct, start playing music—on a record player, maybe, or whatever Dionysus had been using at the end-of-Dark party. He recognizes the song—it's Faye Wong's Zi Gei Zi Bei²—and somehow it settles him, hearing it. He breathes in the delicious smells, the familiar music, and then opens his eyes to smile at his boyfriend. "Hi."

¹ Putting aside, firmly, everything that had happened with Sagramore—he's refusing to think about Sagramore entirely tonight.
² "Know Oneself And Each Other."

"Beloved," Luo Binghe says, a little breathless at the sight of Shen Yuan even now. It's the haircut—it has forced him to learn the planes of his sweet lover's face anew, like how Shen Yuan's presence once forced him to look at Shen Qingqiu's visage with fresh eyes. Again, Luo Binghe has taken advantage of the Mansion's accommodating nature to find them a room closer to his accustomed style, with a low table and no chairs. He is about to gesture to Shen Yuan to kneel, but cannot resist first closing the distance between them with a few quick strides and kissing him, soft and sweet. Unlike their first date, Luo Binghe is not a newcomer in Shen Yuan's life, and he is not uncertain of his place. He is allowed.

Shen Yuan kisses him back, laughingly, fondly, and then presses firmly down on his shoulders so he'll kneel at the table. "Sit, sit." If he lets Binghe get carried away they'll never eat, and while neither of them really need to he does worry that Binghe won't unless they eat together. Sometimes he worries Binghe won't do anything that brings him joy, that grounds him in his body and his life rather than his endless worries, unless they're together.

But he puts the thought aside, crossing to the other side of the table. He's working on it - they're building out Binghe's other friendships, figuring out the things he likes. It'll be okay. He kneels across from Binghe and pours himself some of the chilled wine, humming along to the music under his breath. "My mom loves this album," he says, quietly. "That's so weird—I wouldn't expect anyone else here to know it. Maybe someone just pulled it up at random, but. Weird coincidence."

"Your mother?" Luo Binghe is careful how he says it—with interest, but lightly. Shen Yuan never talks about his family, and Luo Binghe wants to know about them more than anything, but it's for Shen Yuan to decide when and how much he wants to say.

It's stupid, but Shen Yuan thinks the haircut might make talking about this easier, too. "She used to play this album when she missed my dad. He was away a lot—traveling for work—and she'd play this in the kitchen when we were waiting for him to get home. I didn't know who it was by, I just knew all the songs, so then when I got really into Final Fantasy VIII—that's, um, a video game, this singer did a song for it—I went to her like hey, have you heard of Faye Wong, and she laughed so hard at me." He shakes his head at himself and leans out to serve himself some longevity noodles. "You know how kids are, always thinking they're the first person to ever—" he stops. One of the longevity noodles has slithered out of his grip onto the tabletop, and he stares at it. "What—"

Edited (forgot how roman numerals work!!) 2024-05-22 19:27 (UTC)

Luo Binghe is knocked out of the longing ache he feels at the thought of family—any family—and Shen Yuan's family, missing each other and missing Shen Yuan—

"What?"

"Look," says Shen Yuan, nodding at the tabletop, where the longevity noodle has unmistakably looped in on itself in a stylized but still recognizable capital letter A. Frowning, testing, Shen Yuan lifts more noodles and lets them fall, one at a time, not directing them with either his fingers or his qi, and they flop onto the table, as if by chance, not drawn by any other hand, in the shape of an O, and then an R, and then an N, and then an I—

Luo Binghe starts sharply, scrambling to his feet. "Aornis¹. Like in the library—"

¹Ping!

Edited 2024-05-22 20:11 (UTC)

Shen Yuan stands, too, pushing himself back from the table, and the suddenness of the movement makes him lightheaded, a sensation he hasn't felt for—for over six months, since last time his meridians were blocked, since before he and Binghe slept together and Binghe cured his incurable poison. It passes quickly, though, and he raises his eyes to his boyfriend's. "Binghe. What's going on?"

Luo Binghe dashes to Shen Yuan's side, immediately pulling him close and slipping a hand into his own sleeve, where he has Xin Mo hidden in a qiankun pouch. "This may be some magic she has. She must be nearby."

Aornis steps lightly into the room at this point, hair and nails perfect, expression inscrutable. "If it isn't my two closest friends," she greets them, her tone bordering on cheerful.

Shen Yuan backs away from her, keeping himself between her and Binghe, one hand around Binghe's wrist to keep him from drawing Xin Mo—not yet, it isn't worth the cost. She's just a person. Right?

The music is still playing from the other room, but the song has changed—a cover he doesn't recognize, quicker-paced and modern, slightly distorted. "What the fuck is your deal?" he demands. "What do you want?"

She is likely trying to provoke Luo Binghe. She has done so before, and she knows doing anything to bother Shen Yuan is a fast way to stir his ire. Luo Binghe glowers at her, tightening his arm around Shen Yuan's waist. "I have told you it's unwise to make an enemy of me."

"As I've told both of you before," Aornis replies calmly, with emphasis on both and turning slightly while responding in turn, "There's not one specific thing I want -- and I've already made an enemy of you. We even talked about it last night." She takes in the whole room now. Oh, a date night. How adorable.

"Last night?" Shen Yuan demands. They'd been together last night, like they were most nights, and Aornis had definitely not been there. And what the fuck did she mean she's told them both before?? She hasn't told him shit. He lowers his voice slightly, but doesn't take his eyes off her. "Binghe. Did you visit her dreams? Why didn't you tell me?"

Luo Binghe shakes his head. "I didn't. She's bluffing. Or trying to turn us against one another—"

Aornis scoffs slightly at this interpretation of her words. "Why would I lie to turn you against each other when I could just tell the truth? You've been a real thorn in my side recently, Luo Binghe. You just won't leave me alone. It's been rather impolite."

Luo Binghe has fought villains with the power to alter memory before, but they are rare, and villains who lie are common as dirt. He narrows his eyes. "Tell me what you claim I have been doing."

Shen Yuan stays quiet to listen, his fingers still looped around Binghe's wrist, but he's taking stock of the room around them, figuring out what he could use as an improvised weapon should the need arise. Except—something else about the room is bothering him, distracting him from the tactical notes he should be taking. He can't place what it is, at first; it looks the same as it had when he'd entered it, the low table piled with all of Binghe's wonderful food, the cabinets at the sides, the door, the window out onto the Mansion lawns. His eyes catch especially on the window: he can't shake the feeling that the view out of it is wrong; that he should be able to see city streets and high-rises, not the first green shoots of spring.

And then he realizes: this room is exactly the same layout as his dining room back home. The furniture isn't the same, but it's all placed in exactly the same places: the table, the cupboards, the window, the door. And through the door should be his kitchen, where he would wait with his mother and his siblings, listening to this same song.

"Hmm, let's see," Aornis begins, ticking each item off on her fingers as she mentions them. "You've invaded my dreams upwards of twenty times -- though don't worry, you forget about it the second you wake up. You've brought up that horrendous Thursday Next woman every single time you've done so. You insulted my brother this most recent time."

Though a touch irate now, she seems perfectly at ease in spite of the fact that both other individuals in the room are physically more powerful than her. She knows that. Perhaps she's even resigned to whatever's going to happen in this meeting, thanks to the realization that either something needs to change and something drastic needs to happen -- or she's going to rot away in a narrative loop. How ironic would that be?

"My love, write this down," Luo Binghe says urgently. "Write something down, quickly, in case she—" Oh. Write something down, like Shen Yuan must have done in the library. Aornis III. The third time she had done something to Shen Yuan—and that was months ago. His blood runs cold. His grip tightens on Xin Mo's hilt, but he doesn't yet draw it; he does not intend to do so until he's ready to use it. "Remind me of the insult, so I may say it again."

Oh, shit, right, of course—Shen Yuan blinks himself out of thinking about the fucking furniture and lets go of Binghe's wrist to rummage in his own qiankun pouch—hanging from the belt loop of his nice date jeans—for the pen Crowley had conjured for him so long ago and his notebook. Aornis can erase memories, he writes, Binghe confronted in dreams—

"No, I'm not going to rise to your bait," Aornis admonishes Luo Binghe, giving Shen Yuan writing in his notebook a mild that's cute look. "Not when it gives me an edge in this rather lopsided confrontation. I know everything about you and Shen Yuan. The two of you barely know anything about me. Not that that matters." An idle threat, dropped at the end.

"Then, if we cannot know anything about you, and we cannot stop you from altering our memories"—or more likely, there is a way to stop it that Aornis is unlikely to divulge—"what is your purpose in distracting us? The food is going cold."

Shen Yuan continues to write: Has erased conversations with me at least three times, probably more. Likely behind Magnus stabbing. His mind is working overtime, trying to connect things up before he forgets again, but he still has frustratingly little information. "You were in the closet with me. What happened in there?"

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