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Chu Wanning had made three critical mistakes tonight.
One: He left the house.
Two: He assumed fate would let him buy some ice cream in peace.
Three: He wore the hoodie with the stupid cat on it.
He doesn’t remember where he got this hoodie. All he knew was that it was big, soft, and comfortable to wear around the house. He hadn’t thought much of it. It was late, he wanted ice cream, and the store was nearby. The chances of running into someone he knew was near zero.
So here he was, staring into the freezer section and trying to decide between cookies and cream or mango ice cream. Both maybe…?
But the universe did not seem to like his decision.
He was just done kicking the freezer doors closed with his foot and a pint of ice cream occupying both his hands when a familiar voice echoed near the entrance.
“Mengmeng we don’t need more energy drinks just get the ramen—”
Death. Immediate death. Chu Wanning whipped around, heart hammering in his throat, and there he was. Mo Ran. Unfairly tall. Handsome as always. Laughing, bright, and… and properly dressed unlike himself! And because he had done something seriously offensive in one of his previous lives, next to Mo Ran was Xue Meng. So not one, but two witnesses to Chu Wanning’s atrocious wardrobe choices and his greedy sweet tooth.
Chu Wanning dove back around the end of the aisle and crouched down, glaring at his feet— because of course to top it off he had also decided to go out in sandals.
This is fine, he lied to himself. They haven’t seen me. They’re here for energy drinks and noodles. I just need to stay here until they leave. If it comes to it, I will drop the ice cream and run. Move cities. Fake my death. Anything.
Mo Ran’s voice was drifting closer. Chu Wanning peaked around the corner and realized something was terribly, irreversibly wrong.
This is the noodle aisle.
His heart stopped. His entire brain went blank for a moment, like a badly loaded webpage.
The shelves to his left were stacked top to bottom with instant ramen, soba noodles, and udon multipacks. Dead ahead was the distinctive, garish red of the spicy ramen Mo Ran always ate.
“No no no no—” he hissed, half under his breath, scrambling backward and hitting his elbow on the shelf behind him. A small plastic packet of somen slid off and bonked him in the shoulder.
Abort mission. He had to move. Now.
Why did he decide to hide in the noodle aisle? Why not the tampon aisle? The adult diapers? Somewhere Mo Ran would never, ever wander into on a normal day?
He stuffed the two pints of ice cream on a random shelf, hesitating only for a moment before choosing flight over dairy.
He spun on his heel, intending to slink out through the back aisle and never speak of this night again, when he heard the squeak of footsteps rounding the corner.
Too late. Too late.
He grabbed a random pack of ramen, and with luck, Mo Ran would dismiss him as just another grocery shop civilian. He will stay very still until he blends into the shelf, and once Mo Ran leaves this aisle, he can make a run for it.
“I’m telling you, the black garlic one is better,” Mo Ran was saying, loud and clear, getting closer. “And don’t even bring up that shrimp flavor again, you’re the only person in existence who likes it—”
There was a rustle. A pause.
“Wait… is that mango?”
Chu Wanning tensed.
Mo Ran’s voice tilted up into surprise. “Who left mango ice cream next to soba noodles? And cookies and cream too?”
He heard Xue Meng snort a few aisles over. “Some idiot with no organizational skills. Are you done over there? You’re taking forever!”
He stood perfectly still, back stiff, hoodie cinched halfway over his face, holding a packet of what he now realized—to his mounting horror—was a packet of ultra spicy ramen.
He blinked at the packaging, which had a cartoon chili pepper breathing flames and a warning label in bold red text: “EXTREME HEAT. NOT FOR THE WEAK.”
I can’t even eat black pepper without coughing, he thought numbly.
But he couldn’t put it down. Not now. Not while Mo Ran was right there.
Chu Wanning wasn’t a deeply religious man, but right now he was praying really, really hard to be struck down and evaporated.
“...Wait.” he heard Mo Ran mutter.
His tone had changed.
Chu Wanning heard the exact moment recognition hit. It echoed through the aisle like a funeral bell.
“That’s not—hold on—is that…”
Then Mo Ran’s voice, hushed, a little disbelieving, way too close: “Wanning?”
I want to die. Chu Wanning contemplated making a run for it, but Mo Ran had already seen his face. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, finally looking up at Mo Ran. Mo Ran, who hadn’t said a word, and instead was just staring. It was not a normal stare. It was a full-body, speechless, cosmic-event level stare. Mo Ran looked like he’d just witnessed the most diabolical, mind-boggling, incomprehensible thing ever and Chu Wanning just really wanted to die.
“Mo Ran. Hello.” Chu Wanning could feel his cheeks burning with humiliation, the heat creeping up his neck and spreading across his face. He’d never been this mortified in his life. His horrible personality and looks were not something he could easily fix, but at least he had always made sure to wear appropriate and decent clothing. He wasn’t used to being seen like this, certainly not by Mo Ran. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of dignity, but it was a lost cause.
Mo Ran blinked. Then blinked again.
“…You’re holding spicy ramen,” he said, as if the words had been dragged out of him against his will. “You can’t handle spicy food...”
Chu Wanning stiffly opened his mouth. “I… have grown stronger.”
Mo Ran made a noise like a laugh that got caught in his throat and choked halfway out. “You can’t even eat medium salsa without crying.”
“That was one time,” Chu Wanning snapped, cheeks flushing crimson.
“You sneezed for ten minutes. I had to Google if it was medically dangerous.”
Chu Wanning gave up and shoved the ramen back on the shelf. “Fine. I don’t like it. Happy?”
Was it really supposed to be this hard for a man to get some ice cream in this economy? Why? Why him?
But when he looked up again, he saw Mo Ran—still standing there, that strange, disarming look still in his eyes.
It wasn’t the usual teasing gaze. No, this was different. Mo Ran was looking at him as if something about him—his messy hair, the oversized hoodie, the way he was standing there in the grocery store, all flustered and embarrassed—was the most precious thing in the world.
Ridiculous. Of course, perhaps Chu Wanning’s brain was just conjuring up all of this to make himself feel better. He knew he looked like a red faced homeless person who had personally dug up a six foot hole to die in and all of this just really had to happen in front of the guy he was seeing, huh?
“LAOSHI?!”
Chu Wanning winced, he had almost forgotten that Xue Meng was also in the same grocery store. “Mo Ran… Chu-Laoshi’s wearing a hoodie…”
Great. Chu Wanning truly loved Xue Meng, but did he really have to state something so obvious at the moment?
“Extremely adorable,” Mo Ran added.
But his own personal hell did not stop there. “And sandals…” Xue Meng continued to speak, almost in a daze.
Mo Ran didn’t turn, didn’t even flinch. He just looked at Chu Wanning with that infuriating softness in his eyes, like this was the best part of his day and not the absolute collapse of Chu Wanning’s pride in front of his boyfriend and ex-student.
Chu Wanning cleared his throat, refusing to make any further eye contact with either of them. “Hello Xue Meng. Nice running into you both. Goodbye.”
He said it as quickly as possible and turned on his heel to make a run for it. He really should have done this ages ago. Does his brain refuse to work when he’s around Mo Ran?
He’d barely made it three steps before Mo Ran pulled him back by his arm, chuckling like this entire ordeal was amusing to him. “Ah, Wanning. What am I going to do with you?”
“Shut up and let go of me,” Chu Wanning mumbled. It didn’t come as a surprise that Mo Ran didn’t listen to him and instead pulled him into a hug, ignoring all of Chu Wanning’s protests. Mo Ran kept muttering about how Chu Wanning would be the death of him and Chu Wanning didn’t even try to make sense of his boyfriend’s delusions.
At least Xue Meng had managed to snap out of his confused daze, looking progressively more exasperated than anything else.
“Stop bullying Chu-laoshi!” Xue Meng exclaimed. Chu Wanning couldn’t help but agree, for once. Yes, he loved being in Mo Ran’s arms but not in public and definitely not when he’s ridiculously dressed!
Chu Wanning, now thoroughly trapped in Mo Ran’s embrace and drenched in humiliation, let out a frustrated grunt, hoping it would somehow erase the moment from existence. It didn’t.
Mo Ran’s laughter filled the air, as if the world’s most ridiculous scenario was unfolding right before him, and he was thoroughly enjoying every second of it. His hand rested lightly on the back of Chu Wanning’s head, as though anchoring him in place for the full weight of this embarrassing encounter.
Xue Meng, thankfully, had wandered a few steps away to give them some room, mumbling about how nothing in this universe ever makes sense and how he had the weirdest brother ever.
“Mo Ran, let me go,” Chu Wanning muttered, his voice thick with embarrassment. “I’m going to die of shame.”
“No you’re not,” Mo Ran said, but he did finally release Chu Wanning from his cage of embarrassment. “Not before I die of cuteness aggression.”
“Cuteness aggression…?” He repeated, the absurdity of Mo Ran’s behavior barely registering in his mind. “I am not cute. If you are done making fun of me I’d be leaving.”
“Oh my god I want to eat you,” Mo Ran said, opting to cup Chu Wanning’s face in his hands. Fearing that Mo Ran would attempt to do something as shameless as kiss him in public, Chu Wanning struggled out of Mo Ran’s hold and turned away.
“Wait, wait! Don’t leave without your ice cream!” Mo Ran called out, a smile evident in his voice. “Or rather, ice creams?”
“Leave me alone, Mo Ran!” Chu Wanning felt like he would spontaneously combust on the spot, which was admittedly a better option in this scenario. He was never leaving his house ever again. He was almost at the exit now. Just a few more steps. Freedom. Dignity. A vow to never leave the house in anything less than full formal wear ever again.
“Alright baobei,” Mo Ran said, still laughing softly. “I’ll stop by your place later with these ice creams— just promise you’ll still be wearing that hoodie!”
Chu Wanning didn’t reply, couldn’t reply. He just marched out of the store and into the night, the echo of Mo Ran’s laughter chasing him all the way home—ice cream-less and absolutely never wearing this hoodie ever again after this day. Well, unless Mo Ran does indeed stop by with the ice creams tonight, then he might reconsider.