Title: by the fancy tie 'round your wicked throat
Fandom: City of Streamers (mods: you can use the Cdrama tag)
Pairing: Feng Shizhen/Rong Jiashang
Warnings: no spoilers past the first episode, spies and the way their relationships get complicated, manipulative romance between two adults (ages 26/20) but the older one has been hired as a tutor to help the younger get into a better university
Length: ~500 words

Summary: Flirting is part of the plan. Feelings are not.



“Miss Feng? I don’t understand this part.”

Shizhen looks up at Jiashang’s quiet question, startled. The questions in his workbook were simple extensions of yesterday’s physics problems, which he’d practically flown through. She’d planned today’s lesson with that in mind, intending to compliment him with how well he’d learned the material.

But Jiashang doesn’t wait for her to come to his desk in the small classroom; he’s already carrying the workbook to Shizhen’s desk at the front. His expression is mischievous once he stands and his sisters can’t see his face.

Shizhen knows she should stop whatever he’s intending to do. But her plan calls for him to be motivated for her attention and approval; she can’t shut him down too quickly.

So she just nods as he moves a chair to join her on her side of the desk -- ostensibly so they can both look at the workbook at the same time, but not-so-coincidentally putting the bulk of the desk between them and his younger sisters. Not that Fanghua and Fanglin are looking; both are studiously poring over their own workbooks. It would never occur to them that their brother and their teacher would behave poorly in public.

Shizhen shouldn’t think of them as naïve. She really shouldn’t be doing this while they’re here. It furthers her own goals, but endangers her position in the household.

But she lets Jiashang move the chair close to her, and lean his head over her shoulder. He uses his right hand to point out something on the page, and starts to ask a question.

Whatever he’s saying melts into mere noise as his left hand finds its way lightly to her thigh. It burns through the thin silk of her dress.

Shizhen’s mind locks up. She can’t decide if she should pull away roughly or encourage him further; somewhere in this dance of push and pull, she’s lost her way. It’s too thrilling: bright summer sunshine coming through the windows, the girls serious and proper on the other side of the room, oblivious. Jiashang’s hand on her, tentative and secret.

“Miss Feng?”

Jiashang’s smile has slipped into a smirk. Shizhen wants to slap it off his face. She wants to kiss him, here, in front of everyone.

It’s alarming, how impulsive she wants to be, in a house full of enemies.

She sets aside both impulses, and follows the plan. She lets her own hand drift down to cover Jiashang’s and threads their fingers together. A flush rises up his cheeks, and the smirk falls away.

“It’s similar to the physics problem you solved on the previous page,” she points out, keeping her voice as steady as she can. “Let’s talk through that one, and see what’s different about this one.”

Shizhen squeezes his fingers once, and lets go. She refuses to acknowledge the pang of disappointment when he pulls away. She can’t afford to develop feelings for her target.