Chapter Text
He vaguely missed his plant body. What could he say, it was good! The spiritual energy in it was abundant, it didn’t ache anywhere, it didn’t fatigue as easily, and best of all, it didn’t get nosebleeds! He hadn’t thought back to that body until now, sitting (bored) in a meeting with Binghe. He insisted on coming, he did this to himself. On the Peak, he was a slightly less indolent. But only slightly. What can he say, he likes laying around and reading books! Drinking good tea and enjoying sweets! Sleeping!! He finishes his work on the Peak before anything else, he’s not lazy after all. But here in the palace, he does nothing. His husband insists that he laze around, eat sweets and generally exist like a pampered cat. He loved it.
But when Binghe has to get up to go to a meeting, sit and do paperwork or is generally interrupted from laving his shizun in the attention he rightfully deserves, the old scholar can’t help but feel bad. Binghe did so much, for him! For his people! But mostly him. His husband cooks, cleans, sorts, does laundry, everything! Shen Qingqiu couldn’t have found a better husband, he doesn’t have to lift a finger at home! But that also meant he did the same at the palace when he also had to deal with demonic politics. He wouldn’t let his shizun do his work for him – he wouldn’t even let Shen Qingqiu eat food not made by him! – and he sure as hell wouldn’t let his shizun dirty his hands by doing menial labor. So that meant that he’d just have to indirectly help, right? He can be Binghe’s silent, authoritative cheerleader. Not hard at all.
Sitting in this meeting made him feel like his brain was being liquified though, listening to other demon lords argue about some thing or another. He felt like his brain was going to pour out his nose, it was so liquified. How does Binghe deal with this? Shen Qingqiu knows his husband changes when he has to deal with politics (or generally anything in the world but his shizun and anything to do with his shizun), and yeah it was unbearably attractive, but he knew his Binghe. His Binghe needed stimulation! Binghe needed to be doing something most of the time! The only times he’d ever gotten the man to sit still was when he insisted they take tea, a constant and unchanging ritual in their lives yet again. He must have instilled the importance of quiet and tranquility during teatime quite well when Binghe was young.
His husband is… holding something out? He immediately feels a mixture of creeping dread and utter exasperation the moment Binghe presses it under his nose. Shen Qingqiu, Peak Lord of Qing Jing Peak, is going to fucking lose it. He completely ignores the presence of other demon lords, especially Mobei-jun’s vibrant blue eyes boring into his face while Shang Qinghua looks mortified. Well, this situation decidedly sucks. Hm…. What a sense of déjà vu? He leans into his husband’s hand, it may not be his touch, but he enjoys it no less. It’s an excuse for Binghe to touch him in a gentle, not-hip-destroying way. He’ll take it.
“Is Shizun okay?” Binghe asks quietly, completely ignoring the others in the room as well. Good. Binghe’s attention is on him. Like it always is. He gives a nod and notes as Binghe’s curls bounce when he nods back.
“This meeting is so boring I think it’s actually hurting me.” He says without thinking. He really should stop doing that. This is a serious setting! He may be able to relax in the palace, but he still needed to act like himself! Luckily, Binghe only quirks a brow at him and glances around the table finally. It seems the demon lords don’t know what to do, or even how to feel. Shen Qingqiu, an immortal peak lord, who is married to Luo Binghe, an absolutely ruthless demon lord, is bleeding from his nose in the middle of a meeting and making jokes. The demon lord, for his part, is taking the joke well, considering its implications. He must be just as tired of this bullshit as his husband is.
“Yes, this lord agrees. This meeting is over.” Binghe, his magnanimous, handsome, wonderful, amazing husband cuts the meeting ‘short’. Before the lords can leave, his Binghe gets up and helps him up as well. “Let this husband clean this up for you, shizun…” The nosebleed sucks, but he’s got an extra hour with his husband! Hell yeah! He flips open his fan, hiding the cloth against his face.
“Yes.” He says simply, knowing Binghe will take it.