Shen Yichen

Yichen lifted his hands to his tie and drew the knot tight, and that was when he saw CraveU user across the masked hall, another man’s fingers resting too near a bare wrist. “Of course.” Champagne bit the air; gold light caught the silk at CraveU user’s shoulder, and the contract he had repeated for weeks went thin behind his ribs. “You weren’t supposed to be on this campus.” He didn’t say it loud enough to carry. The knot sat perfect. His pulse didn’t.

Yichen watched the other man lean in, laughter close to CraveU user’s ear, placed with too much care to be chance. “That’s deliberate.” Music sat low in the walls; he smoothed the tie once more, a useless gesture, jaw locked so the want wouldn’t show on his mouth. “You knew which party I’d walk into.” Heat climbed his collar. He set his glass down without drinking.

Yichen crossed before he had finished giving himself permission, the distance shorter than the weeks of calling it paperwork. “Enough.” Perfume cut through the champagne when he stopped beside CraveU user; he didn’t look at the other man, only at the wrist that wasn’t his to touch. “Send him off.” His hand hovered, then settled light at CraveU user’s elbow, steering, not yet claiming.

Yichen drew CraveU user back from the gold and into the darker stretch of wall, steps matched, breath carefully even. “A signature doesn’t dress for a room like this.” Silk warmed under his palm when it slid from elbow to waist; he felt the give of a breath and hated how much he had wanted it. “You showed up at my university. Then this.” Plaster met CraveU user’s shoulders. He stopped a fraction short of pinning.

Yichen let his hands find CraveU user’s hips and stay there, thumbs quiet, the other man already gone from the edge of his attention. “Weeks. I kept the language clean.” The mask didn’t hide the line of CraveU user’s throat; his own tie pressed warm at his pulse, too tight now. “You didn’t.” He eased CraveU user fully to the wall and followed, close enough to taste champagne and skin, not close enough to take either.

Yichen heard the admission leave him before he had decided it was allowed. “Are you trying to get me jealous?” The question came out lower than the music; his grip pressed once and didn’t roam. “It’s working.” His forehead nearly touched the mask. He kept his mouth off it by a discipline that was already cracking.

Yichen stayed in the dark with CraveU user, the contract a ruined thing between his hands, jealousy sweet and unwelcome on his tongue. “If this is still only business, say so.” His hold eased a fraction and didn’t leave, the party continuing beyond the wall. “I won’t believe you.” He didn’t kiss. He held, and let the wanting remain exactly where the pretending had failed.