The private room was quieter than the main floor, the air cooler and faintly scented with polished wood and the clean metallic trace of high-end jewellery. Soft recessed lighting washed the cream walls in a warm glow.
Zhang Yichen and Mo Fei followed the assistant inside and settled onto the low crimson sofa facing a long glass table.
A moment later several staff members entered in a neat line, each carrying slim black boxes. They arranged them across the table with practised care, then stepped back.
Mo Fei leaned forward at once. His eyes lit as he opened the first box, then the next, fingertips hovering just above the pieces without quite touching.
Diamonds caught the light and scattered it in sharp little flashes across his hands. He made a small, delighted sound under his breath as he examined a pair of earrings, then a slender ring, turning each piece this way and that.
Yichen watched him in silence, one arm resting along the back of the sofa.
Eventually Mo Fei exhaled and closed the latest box with a soft click. "They're pretty," he said, "but I'm sure they're expensive as hell."
"Don't worry about the price." Yichen's voice was calm. "Pick whichever you want."
Mo Fei's gaze moved over the remaining boxes. It stopped on one near the end of the table— a smaller case containing a fine diamond necklace so delicate it looked almost like a strand of light, paired with a matching bracelet. He pointed.
"That one."
A staff member stepped forward, opened the box fully, and passed it to him. Mo Fei lifted the necklace first, letting the tiny stones trail across his palm. They were cool against his skin and caught every shift of the overhead light.
Yichen gave a small wave of his hand. The staff bowed and filed out, closing the door behind them with a quiet, expensive click. The room fell into a deeper hush.
"I'll help you put them on," Yichen said.
Mo Fei glanced up, then stood and walked over to the tall display mirror that occupied one wall. The glass reflected the soft lighting and the two of them standing close.
Yichen followed, took the open box from Mo Fei's hands, and set it carefully on the nearby ledge.
He stepped behind him.
For a moment neither of them spoke. Yichen reached up and gently brushed a few strands of Mo Fei's violet hair aside, the ends silky against his fingers.
Yichen unhooked the delicate clasp. The fine diamond chain was cool as he settled it around Mo Fei's throat, letting the tiny stones rest lightly against his collarbones, thumbs brushing the edge of the chain. The diamonds rested lightly against his collarbones, sparkling with every small breath.
Mo Fei's eyes met his own reflection. The necklace looked different on him than it had in the box— finer, somehow. More deliberate.
He's watching me in the mirror. Don't make it weird. Just… breathe.
Yichen's hands remained steady as he fastened the clasp.
Mo Fei's breath hitched—small, almost inaudible. In the mirror Mo Fei watched his own ears turn red for no reason he could name. He lifted his gaze and found Yichen already looking at him through the glass— steady, unreadable, closer than he had realised.
Yichen leaned down a fraction. His breath stirred the fine hair near Mo Fei's ear. It had been weeks since they were this close. That was why he pulled him out of the group and brought him here. Away from the noise. Away from everyone else.
"It looks good on you," Yichen said quietly.
Mo Fei's face warmed. The blush crept up his neck beneath the new necklace, then Yichen's fingers suddenly tightened on the chain and gave a short, deliberate yank backward.
Mo Fei gasped. The unexpected pull unbalanced him, his body fell back against Yichen's chest, solid and warm.
Yichen's arms came around him just enough to steady him. For a moment they stood like that—Mo Fei's back pressed to Yichen's front, the diamonds cool between them. Yichen lowered his head and breathed in the scent of Mo Fei's hair, then rested his lips lightly against the necklace itself, right over the pulse at the base of Mo Fei's throat.
"Keep this," he murmured.
Mo Fei's voice came out smaller than usual. "…Okay."
Yichen turned him around with careful hands, Mo Fei's back met the mirror with a soft sound. The glass was cool through his clothes. Yichen stepped in until there was almost no space left between them. Neither spoke.
The longing sat heavy and obvious in the narrow gap— eyes lingering, breath shared, the quiet stretch of seconds where either of them could have stepped away and neither did.
Mo Fei moved first. He reached up, fisted a hand in the front of Yichen's shirt, and dragged him the last inch into a kiss.
Zhang Yichen answered the moment Mo Fei's fist tightened in his shirt. He pressed forward, crowding him fully against the mirror, one hand sliding firmly around Mo Fei's waist to drag him in until there was no space left between them.
The glass was cool at Mo Fei's back, Yichen's body was solid heat against his front. Their mouths moved together in a slow, deliberate rhythm that still carried an undercurrent of urgency— lips parting, breath shared, the soft sound of the kiss loud in the quiet room.
Mo Fei's thoughts scattered. All he could register was the taste of Yichen, the controlled strength in the arm locked around his waist, and the way his own pulse hammered under his skin. He kissed back with equal intensity, fingers curling tighter into the fabric at Yichen's chest, then sliding up to the back of his neck. The fine diamond necklace shifted between them with every movement, cool metal warming quickly against his throat.
Yichen tilted his head and deepened the kiss further, tongue brushing against Mo Fei's in a slow, thorough stroke that pulled a quiet sound from the Mo Fei's throat. His hand at Mo Fei's waist flexed, fingers pressing into the small of his back, holding him exactly where he wanted him. When they finally broke for air it was only for a second— foreheads nearly touching, breaths uneven— before Yichen's mouth trailed lower.
His lips found the side of Mo Fei's neck, just above the necklace. He kissed the skin there slowly at first, then opened his mouth and dragged his teeth lightly over the sensitive spot.
Mo Fei's breath hitched hard. His head tipped back against the mirror with a soft thud, exposing more of his throat without thinking.
Yichen took the invitation, lips and tongue working over the same place until the skin felt hot and marked.
"Yichen— " Mo Fei's voice came out rough, almost unsteady.
Yichen's only answer was a low sound against his neck and the tightening of the arm around his waist. Then he moved with clear intent, his free hand slid down, caught the back of Mo Fei's thigh, and dragged one leg up against his own hip.
The shift changed everything. Mo Fei's balance tipped fully into Yichen, the new angle pressed them together from chest to hip in a way that made the slow grind of the kiss feel suddenly, sharply intimate. Mo Fei's fingers dug into Yuchen's shoulders for stability. A soft, helpless noise escaped him as Yichen kissed his way back up the side of his neck and claimed his mouth again.
This time the kiss was deeper, wetter, edged with the same restrained hunger that had been building for weeks. Yichen's hand stayed locked under Mo Fei's thigh, holding the leg in place, while the arm around his waist kept him pinned against the mirror.
Every slow roll of Yichen's hips drew another quiet, broken sound from Mo Fei. The room felt smaller. The air felt warmer. The distant noise of the department store beyond the private room might as well have belonged to another world.
Mo Fei's free hand slid into Yichen's hair, gripping, holding him close as he kissed back with matching intensity. He could feel the fine tremor in his own frame, the way his body answered every deliberate press of Yichen's.
The necklace at his throat caught the light each time he moved, Yichen's mouth brushed the chain more than once, as if reminding them both it was still there.
When they finally parted again, Mo Fei's lips felt swollen. His chest rose and fell against Yichen's.
Yichen's eyes were dark, fixed on him with an intensity that made the air between them feel charged all over again.
The hand at Mo Fei's waist flexed once more, possessive and steady, as if Yichen had no intention of letting the space return between them any time soon.
Zhang Yichen reached for the matching bracelet still resting in the open box. He lifted it between them, the fine diamonds catching the soft light. "I'm keeping this one."
Mo Fei glanced at it, then gave a small nod. "Mm."
Yichen's mouth curved. His gaze dropped to the side of Mo Fei's neck, where a fresh red mark bloomed just above the delicate necklace—evidence of how thoroughly he had kissed and bitten the skin moments earlier. Satisfaction flickered through him at the sight.
Voices rose outside the private salon. Footsteps, laughter, the unmistakable energy of the rest of the group finishing their own shopping and drifting closer.
Mo Fei turned at once. He lifted both hands and quickly smoothed his violet hair back into place, fingers combing through the strands that had been mussed by Yichen's grip. His ears were still faintly red.
Yichen looked down at himself.
The front of his trousers did nothing to hide the effect the last several minutes had left on him. He exhaled through his nose and muttered under his breath,
"Fuck."