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thestoriesthatweweave · 5 years

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Liushen Week Day 1 - Firsts (Meeting)

Day 2

AO3

“Shen Jiu,” Liu Qingge roared, slamming his fist against the door. It was solid wood, several inches thick, but if Liu Qingge failed in breaking it down, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.

The tortured noises on the other side quieted. There was some shuffling, the sound of footsteps, and then the door swung open to reveal - not Shen Jiu. Not quite. The man standing on the threshold looked very similar to Liu Qingge’s insufferable train-wreck of a neighbor, but Shen Jiu had a sharpness to his features that this one lacked; his cheeks were rounder than Shen Jiu’s, the line of his jaw softer, his eyes bigger and darker, fringed by thick, dark lashes.

“Hello,” Not-Shen-Jiu said, with jarring calm, “You must be looking for my brother. I’m house-sitting.”

“It’s half past midnight.”

Not-Shen-Jiu winced. “Sorry. My students have a recital tomorrow and they wanted to get some last-minute practice in. My brother said it wouldn’t be a problem if a made noise.” He seemed to realize the idiocy of the statement as he spoke, and flushed.

It was surprisingly fetching on him.

“Your students sound like strangled cats.”

Not-Shen-Jiu coughed a little, covering his mouth with his hand. It disguised the curve of his lips, but his smile showed in the crescent of his eyes. “They do their best.” He stood aside. “Come in. The least I can do is offer you tea to make up for the disturbance.”

Liu Qingge had to open the gym by seven o’clock in the morning, which was why he’d come banging on Shen Jiu’s door in the first place. He was already dressed for bed, in a tank top and loose pants, his shoes slipped on almost as an afterthought; the only reasonable thing to do, now that his admonishment had been delivered, was to return to his own apartment and make for bed.

Instead, he followed Not-Shen-Jiu in.

The layout of Shen Jiu’s apartment was similar to Liu Qingge’s own. The front door led into a foyer, painted in a muted green, which in turn opened into a living room, where a boy and a girl in their late teens, presumably Not-Shen-Jiu’s students, were packing up their instruments.

“You’re as ready as you’ll ever be,” Not-Shen-Jiu was saying brightly. “Now the most important thing is to get a good night’s sleep.”

“You know we heard him,” the girl muttered darkly, snapping the lid of her guqin case closed. “We’ll do horribly, so what does it matter whether or not we sleep?”

“Nonsense, you’ll do great,” Not-Shen-Jiu said, with more faith than good sense. “It’s late. Ming Fan, make sure Ying-er gets home safe, won’t you?”

The boy - Ming Fan - nodded with great gravitas. He moved closer to girl, as though he was going to start escorting here even while they were still inside the apartment, though this apparently vital task didn’t keep him from shooting an extremely lingering look to Liu Qingge’s bare arms on his way out. Liu Qingge could’ve sworn he heard the words could bench-press a truck being uttered, once the two students were out of the apartment.

“Today’s youth, uh?” Not-Shen-Jiu commented, his mouth twisting a little, as though he was trying to suppress a smile and not quite succeeding.

It did not seem to be the sort of question that actually required an answer, so Liu Qingge just grunted, following Not-Shen-Jiu into the cramped kitchen. He stood awkwardly at the door as Not-Shen-Jiu busied himself with the electric kettle and hunted down a tin of tea; his lips moved as he worked, forming words too quiet for Liu Qingge to hear.

Eventually, a cup of over-steeped tea was thrust into his hands. He sipped from it, trying not to grimace at the taste, because when he’d hesitated, Not-Shen-Jiu’s face had twisted into something mortified and a little crestfallen, and that had been unacceptable, for reasons Liu Qingge wasn’t going to examine too quickly.

Or possibly ever.

“I’m sorry I don’t have snacks. Jiu-di keeps his kitchen criminally understocked. I found a packet of biscuits in one of the cupboards yesterday, but they were six months past the expiry date. There was no mold on them, so they probably would’ve been alright to eat, though.”

He paused expectantly at the end of his speech, so it probably required some sort of response from Liu Qingge. Something simple like it’s unwise to eat expired food would’ve been perfectly fine.

What passed Liu Qingge’s lips was, “I have unexpired biscuits in my apartment.”

Not-Shen-Jiu blinked. “That’s… good?”

“We can have tea again tomorrow. In my apartment. To repay you for tonight.” Liu Qingge added. There. That was polite. His mother would’ve been proud.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Not-Shen-Jiu demurred. “Tonight was my apology for keeping you awake, there’s no need to repay it.”

“It’s fine,” Liu Qingge said. Obviously. He wouldn’t have extended the invitation, if it hadn’t been fine.

“If you’re sure…” Not-Shen-Jiu said, chewing at his bottom lip. A short pause, then, . “Which one’s your apartment?”

“On the left of this one,” Liu Qingge replied, then he added, after a moment’s thought, “Liu Qingge.”

Not-Shen-Jiu blinked at him again, face scrunching up in confusion for a moment, before his features smoothed out. “I’m Shen Yuan,” he said. And then, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then he smiled.

He had the sort of smile that transformed his entire face, as though a flame had been lit beneath his skin. The warmth of that smile stayed with Liu Qingge, like a burning coal beneath his heart, all the way back to his apartment, to his cold and empty bed.

#liushenweek #liushen #My writing #the scum villain's self-saving system #liushenweek day 1

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