Forevermore

ONE

There he was again. In all his cold, brooding glory that nearly had Shang Qinghua frothing at the mouth. In front of him, less than a foot away, separated by a mere counter, was Shang Qinghua's ideal looking man who, without fail, would come every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday to the bar he worked at, at exactly six.

The first time this mysterious (insanely attractive) man walked in, Shang Qinghua's jaw, quite literally, dropped. His coworker and best friend, Shen Yuan had to kick him in the shin when he was frozen in place while the ridiculously handsome man sat down right in front of him. He had tried his best to formulate coherent thoughts and words to ask him what his order is but instead, all that came out of his mouth was nonsensical sputtering.

Looking confused (or as confused as a person with a face that looked colder than an iceberg could be), the man who was clearly favoured by God lifted one perfectly sculptured eyebrow at him. "Sorry!" He squeaked, finally able to form actual words. "You're just so hot—" Shang Qinghua slapped a hand around his mouth before he said anything else he might regret.

"Wait—I mean, me want you—no not that either. What I mean to say is," he took a moment to steady himself. "What would you like me to get you?" From the side of his eye, he could faintly see his Cucumber-bro holding onto the table while bent over in laughter. He was never going to let him live this down.

With slight amusement, the stone faced man's lip twitched slightly.

God, that smirk made him look even sexier.

"Hm, nice to know how attractive you think I am." Oh shit—he totally said that out loud, didn't he? "I believe you did." Fuck, he did it again.

"I am so, so, so, so, sososo—"

"That's enough "so's"."

Shang Qinghua coughed. "R—Right, I'm so sorry I'm acting like this. This—this has never happened before. I don't know what happened to me, ha ha. . . ha." Deep blue eyes looked at him and at that moment, Shang Qinghua wished the world would swallow him whole, right on the spot.

"Just give me the strongest thing you have."

Phew, the image of pure beauty that is gracing him with its presence thankfully ignored his massive fuck up. Turning around to avoid having his redder than red face seen, Shang Qinghua went to look for the strongest alcohol he could find: an old bottle of almost pure vodka and a small shot glass. He brought it back to where the peerless beauty was sitting and set the shot glasses down.

"No." He said as Shang Qinghua was about to start pouring. The look of confusion on his face caused the hunk to elaborate. "Just give me the bottle." Shang Qinghua blinked at him.

The—The whole bottle? Ha ha, I must be hearing things, there's no way he said that.

"No, that's exactly what I said. Give me the whole bottle."

"What?!"

"The whole," every word was carefully enunciated, "bottle."

"But—But, are you sure? Like, sure sure. Not the kind of, yeah, why not sure. But the yes I definitely know what I'm doing by buying a crazy expensive bottle of vodka that will leave me drunk for at least two days and with a bitching hangover after sure."

The look Shang Qinghua got in response to his rambling was enough to shut him up. Pursing his lips together, he handed the bottle over to the man with some hesitation. And oh god, oh god, their hands brushed each other's. He had physical contact with this masterpiece in front of him. He's never going to wash that hand, he'll even put a plastic bag over his hand forever, just to savor the touch.