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“Not to say I hate your friend, but your friend is quite hateful.”
Shang Qinghua shook his head, hastily pulling Shen Yuan behind him and shushing him before he could make things worse. “Hahaha, don’t worry, he’ll grow on you.”
It wasn’t a scoff that Mobei-jun made, for no sound technically came out of him, but his glare was judgmental enough that Shang Qinghua was sure Shen Yuan could feel it despite behind hidden behind Shang Qinghua’s bulk.
Proof that Shen Yuan didn’t feel the glare? He spoke up from behind Shang Qinghua. “I was just being honest!” he said, as though that wasn’t the most assholeish thing he could say at that point. When had that statement ever fixed anything, really.
Shang Qinghua elbowed him, to no avail. It didn’t help that he didn’t want to hit too hard considering that Shen Yuan had nearly killed himself recently eating barely expired food and Qinghua was not going to be the one to send him to the hospital again.
“Don’t shush me, I’m right and he deserves to hear some constructive criticism.”
Shen Yuan finally managed to face Mobei-jun and wasn’t even fazed by the half a foot the man had on him. “Your art’s pretty decent in general you know. We’ve been walking around for like 20 minutes, and there’s a lot to be said about your choice of colour, or lack thereof, and especially the contrast in term of emotions between the abstract pieces and the normal ones.” He frowned a little at himself and continued. “The ones with people I mean. Every single representation of a person you’ve put on there feels so cold and emotionless, which is hella weird, and also why I kinda hate those. The one in the back room, though-"
Shen Yuan raised his eyes to the sky and made a noise that was probably meant to show appreciation. As it was, he nearly choked on his own saliva and sounded like a death rattle. “I love the painting in the back room at the gallery. Some of your paintings I hate, but I would do a lot of things for this one. It truly is amazing, and it just-”
Mobei-jun interrupted him. “The painting in the back room.”
“Yeah, you know. The demon lord, with the sword, and the hair, and the blood…”
Mobei-jun simply stared as Shen Yuan trailed off, which Shang Qinghua knew his friend would take as a sign to elaborate. He probably even thought what he’d just said was the best compliment ever. Anyone familiar with Mobei-jun would know silence wasn’t a sign to continue, it just meant the man wasn’t interested in continuing this conversation further. Not Shen Yuan though! That guy had never had a conversation he couldn’t bulldoze through, which Shang Qinghua actually liked about him. It was far easier to filter through feedback when you actually had something to filter through, and Cucumber-bro always delivered.
“Yeah, there’s a fire in that guy that isn’t present in any of your other pieces, and it gives so much life to this painting! I can tell there’s a story behind him, and I want to know more, and I want him to succeed in whatever he puts his mind to. I think about 5 of those 20 minutes we spent in here were just me staring at that painting and trying to absorb every detail; that painting’s better than anything you’ve ever made of that I’m sure, right Qinghua?”
Shang Qinghua wasn’t at all invested in this conversation, too busy looking at Mobei-jun’s face and trying to understand how he was taking Cucumber-bro’s flood of information. It… didn’t seem too bad? In fact, if he stared more intently, Mobei-jun almost seemed… could that be pride he was seeing? And maybe a bit of relief?
Shen Yuan had continued in the absence of an answer from Shang Qinghua, and one of his enthusiastic flailing limbs caught him on the shoulder, which brought the author’s focus back into the conversation.
“Honestly, I’m not gay but if that man was real I would understand how some men could be attracted to men, because look at him! Such a shame these kinds of men only exist in fiction, because no real man could ever reach that level of-”
“If you’d like to meet him, he is in fact right there behind you.”
Both Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua turned on their heels to follow Mobei-jun’s pointing finger, and Shang Qinghua immediately took a step back even as he heard his best friend squeak behind him.
In front of them stood the most menacing man Shang Qinghua had ever met, and yes that included the first time he’d met Mobei-jun, when he’d thought the man had been sent by debt collectors to murder him. He shouldn’t have looked terrifying, was the point. Shen Yuan was right, the man was objectively beautiful and if he hadn’t been standing in front of them Shang Qinghua wouldn’t have thought he could be real. He was even genuinely smiling, like today was the best day of his life or something. That same smile was making Shang Qinghua feel like he was in the mire of a hunter, and one who wouldn’t even care if he died.
Backing off did nothing though, as the man kept creeping closer, smile widening as Shang Qinghua ended up going past Shen Yuan and straight behind Mobei-jun. His friend’s bigger bulk hid him just enough from sight to make him feel safe, though it still let him see the stranger’s approach. He seemed entirely focused on Shen Yuan now, and Shang Qinghua was torn between hiding even further or rescuing his friend.
“Hi, I’m Luo Binghe!” the stranger said, and wow, his voice sounded like he was freshly out of highschool and filled with hope for his future, disgusting. “I’m so glad you like Mobei’s painting, do you want to hear about how it got made? If you’d like we could go in front of the painting and I’ll tell you all about it!”
Shang Qinghua tried his hardest to communicate mentally with Shen Yuan, sending him vibes of danger and alert, but it seemed that skull was still as thick as ever. Ignoring all the basic tennets of stranger danger as well as the fact the actual artist was right there! Shen Yuan instead happily agreed and waved Shang Qinghua away to leave to parts unknown with that stranger Shang Qinghua was sure was homicidal in some way.
He didn’t know how long he stood there frozen, but eventually Mobei-jun pulled him out from behind himself and patted him on the head. It should have felt demeaning, to be treated like a pet like that, but instead all Shang Qinghua could feel was relief. He was probably being stupidly judgmental after all, maybe this was just a bad first impression like he’d had with Mobei-jun? That Luo Binghe was probably normal.
“That Luo Binghe’s not secretly a serial killer, right?” he still asked Mobei-jun. “I’m not gonna find Shen Yuan in pieces in some back alley?”
“Your friend will be fine,” Mobei-jun replied, pulling Shang Qinghua towards the entrance of the gallery with a hand between his shoulders. “Luo Binghe won’t harm him.”
Shang Qinghua was just going to ignore all the leeway Mobei-jun had left himself with that answer. For his own peace of mind.