Work Text:
Jinshi’s desire has been growing harder to ignore with every recent interaction he has with Maomao. Granted, most of his meetings with Maomao have been work related, but his mind still finds ways to wander.
It’s gotten to the point he can feel his eyes glazing over when he watches her speak. Jinshi just hopes he’s not so obvious when others are around watching the two of them interact.
He doesn’t count Suiren and Chue.
Today, Maomao surprises him with a visit to his office.
The medical office is supposed to send someone to deliver a report on an official who recently fell ill. Apparently, they decided to send Maomao.
Basen opens the door for her, shutting it once she’s inside. She stands a few feet away from where he’s sitting at his desk. Closing the door she’s inside, Basen waits diligently behind it. The two are effectively alone in his office. Baryou is out for his lunch hour, sure to be back any minute.
Padding over to his desk, Maomao drops a scroll onto the hard surface, then takes a few steps back.
“I’m surprised they sent you, but I can’t say I’m upset.” Jinshi admits.
“It was a matter of chance. I happened to be the first to finish my tasks for the day.” Maomao clarifies with a shrug.
“How serendipitous.” Jinshi says dryly, opening the scroll.
He scans the information, but still chooses to ask her for verbal confirmation, accustomed to trusting her knowledge.
“Is this accurate?” Jinshi peeks up at Maomao.
She responds with her typical inflection, “The patient is stable. His condition has not worsened, but he hasn’t necessarily improved. We have him on a strict regime of medicine and care, and hope to have a better update in the next week.”
Jinshi heard what she said. He did.
Yet, none of it registered.
He liked to think he was better than this. Presently he feels no better than any of the men who frequent the brothels in the pleasure district.
In the short expanse of time where she explained the condition of the patient, his eyes drifted. Having focused on her nipples poking underneath her layers of clothes, along with the slender column of her exposed neck– he can’t help but feel like a cretin. One of his eyes twitches, as he attempts to find his words.
Clearing his throat he sits up in his chair, “Then I will look forward to the updated report next week.”
Maomao furrows her brow, and gives him a look that is reminiscent of her looking down at a bug. It makes his body heat, impossibly more than it already is.
“Are you feeling alright, Sir?”
Jinshi is now at a crossroads. He can choose to navigate her question safely, or he could answer her honestly.
Truth be told, he’s not sure how much more of this he can take before he snaps. From more recent events of hoisting Maomao over his shoulder, to her drawing a damp finger down his wrist, his thoughts have been venturing into more heated waters. So to speak.
It’s taking him an awkward length of time to answer. Jinshi can feel his underarms grow slick with sweat, as his anxiety eats at him.
Before he can stop himself and navigate this better, he answers her.
“May I speak freely?”
Maomao scrunches her brows further, but still nonverbally gives him a cue to go on. He knows the second the words leave his mouth, that he’s made a grave error.
“I’m utterly distracted by my lust for you.”
Unable to meet her eyes, he stares down at the scroll she delivered.
An awkward amount of time passes, and with no other choice but to peer up, he finally looks at her. Maomao is staring back, seemingly having been waiting for him.
“I’m relieved.”
That was not the response he had been expecting.
“Why is that?” His voice comes out at a higher pitch than typical.
“I was beginning to think you lost interest.”
Jinshi’s mind whites out.
Was his respect for Maomao coming off as disinterest? The idea of her feeling like he didn’t think about her, and revere her at all times of the day and night, would not do. Despite his overwhelming fear of appearing overbearing, and in turn treating Maomao poorly, he has to clear this up.
Emotional, and fired up, Jinshi pushes his chair out from under him, slamming his palms atop his desk.
“I want you all the time.” Jinshi voices firmly.
“Do you now?” She counters blandly.
A knock sounds on his door.
They both pause, Jinshi red in the face, and Maomao skeptical. She fixes her expression much more quickly than himself. Brushing her skirt twice, she stands straighter, and steps over to the door. Standing before it, she turns enough to look over her shoulder at him.
“Perhaps you should make good on your word sometime.”
Maomao grabs the handle, opening the door, and letting a waiting Baryou enter.
–
Failing to acknowledge either of the Ma brothers on her way out, Maomao walks off the beaten path and leans against a nearby tree. She will be expected at the medical offices soon, but she needs a moment to calm her rapidly beating heart.
It’s not necessarily a warm day, but she’s fanning her face as if it is.
Hoping to distract herself with whatever tasks they assign her at the medical office, she continues on her path.
She had failed to mention that while yes , she had finished her initial tasks first, she also semi-offered to deliver the missive to the Moon Prince. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. She knows where his office is, and everyone else appeared busy.
Now that she’s alone and reckoning with herself, she can’t help but replay the look on his face when she had been explaining the official's prognosis. She’s not stupid. She grew up seeing that very look on countless customers' faces growing up.
Maomao had been under the impression, for many years, that she would never have that particular look directed at her.
But then along came Jinshi.
This isn’t even the first time she’s seen him make that face. Maomao knows after years that his affections for her are pure, and when sharing affection for another it was natural to feel longing. Or as he put it, lust, along with these affections.
She feels it for him too.
If their conversation had not been interrupted, maybe she would have told him so.
A ways down the stone path, the medical office comes into view. Shaking her head, she tucks her thoughts into the back corner of her mind, instead choosing to visualize what else needs to be done today.
–
Hours later, when Maomao is sitting at dinner with her dorm mates, Chue discreetly delivers a handwritten note from the Moon Prince. She tucks away the note into her sleeves until she knows that no one else will try to read over her shoulder.
After freshening up before bed, she pulls out his note. It’s a simple message, even so, it still makes the back of her neck heat to an uncomfortable degree. Written in his familiar handwriting, she reads the three words over and over until she eventually falls asleep.
All. The. Time.