Work Text:
1.
Luo Binghe is dreaming about that world again. The one where he’s a cultivator, where he used to be Shen Qingqiu’s disciple at Qing Jing Peak rather than a freshman that Shen Qingqiu tutored when he was a senior in high school. That was many years ago, now, after Shen Qingqiu had pushed him to go to the most prestigious (and cutthroat) university, but before Luo Binghe struck it rich as the long-lost heir of Tianlang-Jun, who had disappeared a long, long time ago, but whose fortune and status had effectively been frozen in time until Luo Binghe was discovered to be his only son. Now, he and Shen Qingqiu live comfortably in a humble apartment in the center of the city, one Shen Qingqiu had been living in by himself until he invited Luo Binghe inside to stay for one night and then all the rest.
It’s with a sense of strange nostalgia for another world that Luo Binghe wakes, wanting the quaint bamboo house that he kept neat and tidy out of love, the same way he keeps Shen Qingqiu’s apartment neat and tidy, despite it not yet...not quite being their apartment. Luo Binghe couldn’t presume that much from Shen Qingqiu, who shows his affection in the smallest of ways, the most casual of touches. Luo Binghe knows that Shen Qingqiu shows his affection in the way things that Luo Binghe says or does can move him, sometimes, to a point where he hides behind his fan, revealing nothing, except the pleased sparkling of his eyes and the red tint to his ears tells all.
Shen Qingqiu beside him feels the shift in Luo Binghe’s body against the mattress as he wakes. As ever a light sleeper, Shen Qingqiu, too, wakes to see Luo Binghe looking at him with what Luo Binghe knows is the full weight of his adoration, because Shen Qingqiu can’t bear it and turns his eyes to Luo Binghe’s broad chest, poking his t-shirt with one elegant finger. Shen Qingqiu stifles a yawn with his other hand, waking slowly but easily, his low-lidded eyes lifting a bit higher and higher with every passing minute. The finger against Luo Binghe’s chest turns to a fist grabbing the fabric of his shirt and tugging Luo Binghe closer, demanding as Shen Qingqiu could get sometimes.
“What has woken Binghe this time?” he says, gently.
“I was just thinking…” Luo Binghe doesn’t know what he was thinking. He looks at Shen Qingqiu, and suddenly every thought he’s ever had flies out of his head as he gazes upon the perfect lines of his Shizun’s face, scholarly and graceful.
Shen Qingqiu taps Luo Binghe’s nose. “Binghe got distracted again.”
“Shizun is so beautiful, how could I not get distracted?”
Shen Qingqiu laughs softly, and he kisses Luo Binghe. “Binghe is the one that’s beautiful.”
“My beauty can’t compare to Shizun’s!” Luo Binghe rains kisses on him.
Shen Qingqiu pulls away far enough to watch as he tucks a curl behind Luo Binghe’s ear. “What was Binghe thinking?”
“I was thinking that…” I love you. “It doesn’t matter what world we’re in, my feelings will never change.”
“I see.” For his part, Shen Qingqiu sighs. The only thing on his mind is the ferocity of Luo Binghe’s hatred that drove the original Luo Binghe to ruining the original goods’ life. In the original realistic fiction novel, Luo Binghe--with his newfound status and money and power--tore Shen Qingqiu’s reputation as a private tutor to bloody ribbons, blacklisting him from every potential highbrow client he had, destroying his only source of income in such a public way that made every potential employer suspicious, from the very highest to the very lowest. Such hatred wouldn’t go away with even a year of cohabitation and gentle touches. Maybe not even in five years, ten years. But maybe one day, Luo Binghe will love Shen Qingqiu the same way that Shen Qingqiu loves him. “I can only hope they will.”
On his end, Luo Binghe’s heart breaks. Still, Shizun won’t accept his love. Shizun hopes that Luo Binghe will stop loving him. He doesn’t want this to be forever, not like Luo Binghe does. Shizun is only indulging him temporarily, because even now he thinks Luo Binghe will grow out of it. His eyes sting.
Shen Qingqiu holds Luo Binghe in his arms, hooking his chin over Luo Binghe’s shoulder. “Shh, no more talking, let’s sleep. Goodnight, Binghe.”
Luo Binghe is about to protest, but then Shen Qingqiu strokes his hair until he feels sleepy. “Goodnight, Shizun.”
2.
Luo Binghe misses his Shizun. Luo Binghe spends most of his time cultivating various martial arts and doing househusband type things like laundry, cooking, and cleaning. It takes a lot of time to make Shen Qingqiu’s packable lunches and dinner for the two of them, as well as time to keep the house neat and clean when Shen Qingqiu naturally gravitates towards untidiness. Luo Binghe doesn’t mind it at all, though. It lets him pretend that he is Shen Qingqiu’s husband, in truth if not in name, and this thin fiction is enough to keep him happy when he’s at home all alone and unloved.
Luo Binghe has just taken a shower, done practicing his martial arts for the day, laying in bed in his boxers curled up under the blankets on Shen Qingqiu’s bed. He’s laying on Shen Qingqiu’s side of the bed because it smells more like him. The sheets are fresh and clean and crumbless, because sometimes Shen Qingqiu asks for Luo Binghe to bring him breakfast in bed, and who is Luo Binghe to deny his Shizun’s request? He wishes Shen Qingqiu were here, holding him, so at least he could feel wanted.
Shen Qingqiu has been out all day working, and Luo Binghe is feeling lonely. It’s just past 9PM, which means that Shen Qingqiu has just finished with his last appointment and is on his way home. This client is a short distance away from Shen Qingqiu’s apartment, and the weather is good, so he must be walking home. Luo Binghe’s offered to walk Shen Qingqiu home before, but Shen Qingqiu said that his clients probably wouldn’t be comfortable with a stranger knowing where they lived. Luo Binghe understands, it’s just that sometimes...well, often, he feels like when Shen Qingqiu leaves the house in the morning, he’ll leave forever and never come back. So Luo Binghe always wants to see him the moment he’s free, just to affirm his place in Shen Qingqiu’s life.
Because he feels so heartsick, Luo Binghe takes out his Samsung phone and decides to text Shen Qingqiu some sign of his love. If it’s small enough, it might be accepted. He decides to send a blue heart and the beaming face with smiling eyes. It’s casual and direct. Their romantic relationship (the heart) makes him happy (the happy face). Or, Luo Binghe loves him, and is happy with him. Even though Luo Binghe is currently missing Shen Qingqiu, on the whole, whenever Shen Qingqiu is there, he is ecstatic, he is delighted, he is in love and overjoyed to be so. This message conveys that sentiment plainly and simply. Luo Binghe feels as though there is no way that Shen Qingqiu could misunderstand a gesture this pure-hearted and simple. He presses send.
Shen Qingqiu, in the fair year 2016 on his Apple phone, receives a text. He’s on his way home, and it’s a nice autumn day, comfortable in his blazer, button-down, and slacks. His wing-tip shoes point the way home. Shen Qingqiu lives downtown, but his client lives in one of the high-rises that’s just a few blocks down from the high-rise that Shen Qingqiu himself lives in, a building that looks much nicer on the outside than it is on the inside, although it’s still very much comfortable living, just not luxurious . He sees the building on the horizon when he receives the message from Luo Binghe.
It appears to be a red heart, which isn’t surprising, coming from Binghe, but then there’s what appears to be...a grimacing face? What does this mean? Is Binghe...disgusted with him? If Shen Qingqiu takes the heart to be their relationship, and the grimacing emoji to be his feelings, Binghe...feels bad about their relationship? What has Shen Qingqiu done! Was this...some kind of threat? Was Binghe that angry with him! If he wanted to, Binghe could snap his arms and legs without even breaking a sweat! Was he that upset with him about their relationship? He could just talk to Shen Qingqiu!
Breaking into a sweat of his own, Shen Qingqiu texts back, haha, you’re kidding, right?
Luo Binghe receives the text, and he lets his hurt show because there’s no one to see it. Even in this, even in this, something as inconsequential as a sequence of emojis, Shen Qingqiu rejects him. This doesn’t even matter, but it means that trying to tell Shen Qingqiu something that does matter will only be met with worse reception. Luo Binghe just tries to keep from crying into Shen Qingqiu’s pillow. Shen Qingqiu thinks it’s a joke that Luo Binghe would even try to show him his affection. He thinks it’s a joke.
So Luo Binghe lets it be one, replying, “Of course!”
3.
After breakfast, with daylight streaming in through the curtains, Shen Qingqiu sits on the bed, and Luo Binghe sits behind him, brush in hand. They’d both started growing out their hair after Shen Qingqiu had suddenly and inexplicably turned a new leaf, actually teaching him instead of yelling at him and inventing punishments for him that, in retrospect, were quite clever. They were constrained to Luo Binghe’s bedroom, and they were both only teenagers, even if Luo Binghe had been fifteen, and Shen Qingqiu had been eighteen. Shen Qingqiu at first had been nothing but cruel to him, but so elegant and intelligent around Luo Binghe’s caretakers that he’d convinced them he was the best tutor for Luo Binghe. It had been hellish.
But, one day, Shen Qingqiu had undergone a complete transformation. All of a sudden, he’d started being kind to Luo Binghe, really, truly, genuinely kind and understanding and accommodating. It was as if he was a different person, as though his soul had been replaced with another. Luo Binghe didn’t understand it, but he didn’t question it, either. Once Shen Qingqiu had started teaching by example, performing a task and narrating his thought process while doing it, Luo Binghe had caught onto all of his material like wildfire. It suddenly started to make senss. He stopped floundering in fear of punishment and a desperation to be liked by someone so much better than him, and realized that this boy was just a boy. Even if he knew so much more, he wasn’t hoarding this knowledge anymore, he was reaching out a helping hand and sharing it with Luo Binghe, teaching him methods of learning and recall and wisdom, too.
One day, while they were just having a warm-up conversation about their days, Shen Qingqiu mentioned offhand reading a horrible xianxia novel in Chinese.
“Oh, I’ve heard of those,” Luo Binghe said. “I can’t read Chinese, though, and I never knew where to start with the online novel translations--the books are so long they’re intimidating!”
“Ahh, I have a real soft spot for them. My mother says I’m getting too old to read trash, but it helps me practice my Chinese, and it’s much more fun than reading--” Shen Qingqiu sniffed, “ literature , so I just keep on reading these xianxia novels.”
“What’s your favorite part of them?”
Shen Qingqiu laughed. He had such a gorgeous laugh, soft like a babbling brook. “To be honest, I just love the idea of everyone having extremely long beautiful hair. It makes me want to grow out my hair that long!”
“You should do it!”
“Oh, I’d look stupid.”
“I think you’d look wonderful,” Luo Binghe said, a little shyly. “And if you don’t want to do it alone, I could do it with you.”
“Would you really?”
“I would.” That would mean we’d be friends for a really long time. I’d love to have him in my life for as long as I can. “My hair wouldn’t look as nice as yours because mine’s all curly, but it grows really fast for curly hair, so I think I’d still be able to keep up!”
Shen Qingqiu chuckled. “You know what, why not? Let’s shake on it. No cutting our hair anymore.”
Luo Binghe shook Shen Qingqiu’s hand and let his grip linger in Shen Qingqiu’s warm, broad palm, and then they’d gotten back to work.
Now, years later, both their hair fell down their backs, about waist-length, though, not quite to the hips yet. Because his hair was curly, Luo Binghe could get away with not doing much to his hair other than washing and conditioning it. Shen Qingqiu, on the other hand, had silky, fussy hair that tangled up into big clumps at night or in a stiff breeze, so he usually carried a brush with him in his backpack and had a travel-sized one on his keys. Nowadays, though, whenever they were at home, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t the one to brush his hair.
It was Luo Binghe. Every morning, after breakfast, Luo Binghe would sit behind Shen Qingqiu in bed and brush the snarls out of his hair. Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders drop slowly from their usual level of proper tension in holding his spine straight in the picture of perfect posture to something more relaxed. Luo Binghe gently brings the brush through Shen Qingqiu’s hair from the crown to the tangles in the middle, pulling at them with the brush bit by bit until they are undone. Luo Binghe knows that Shen Qingqiu is much harsher with himself, carelessly ripping hair, saying he has so much of it, it’s okay if a little of it comes out, but Luo Binghe treasures every hair on Shen Qingqiu’s head, so he brushes very carefully and with such tenderness and love he hopes that Shen Qingqiu feels it.
Luo Binghe is just about done brushing Shen Qingqiu’s hair completely smooth and shiny, so he brings the brush through Shen Qingqiu’s hair one more time, and then he sets the brush on the nightstand. Then, he runs his hands through Shen Qingqiu’s hair, just feeling the fine, soft texture of it in his hands. It’s so different than his own faintly coarse, voluminous curls, but Luo Binghe loves it not only because it’s new to him, but because it’s Shen Qingqiu’s.
“All done! Phew, that took a while.”
“Thank you.” Shen Qingqiu laughs, reaching out one hand to the side, grasping at air.
Luo Binghe takes his hand, threading their fingers together. With one hand, Luo Binghe still continues to stroke Shen Qingqiu’s hair. He spots a tangle that he hadn’t caught, so he picks up the brush again and starts working at it.
“I could do this forever, you know,” Luo Binghe says, trying to keep his voice from breaking with how much he means it and his next question. He can’t help himself, huh, from doing and saying these things, from trying to tell Shen Qingqiu he loves him. He can’t stop himself from getting his heart broken, again and again, every time. He still, stupidly, hopes it’ll be different this time. Because he learned how to be an incredible actor at the hell of his university, his voice is light when he says, “What would you do without me?”
“Oh, I’m sure I could manage on my own,” Shen Qingqiu says. Shen Qingqiu thinks Luo Binghe is just teasing again about Shen Qingqiu being unable to take care of himself, what with Luo Binghe spoiling him the way he does with doing the cooking and the cleaning and the kisses. Sometimes, he thinks Luo Binghe worries about him, whatever would Shen Qingqiu do without him? Shen Qingqiu’s been around for a while, now! He’s lived without Binghe! He can take care of himself, thank you very much!
To Luo Binghe, it’s so thoughtless and true that it hurts. Shen Qingqiu could and will manage on his own when he leaves Luo Binghe. He won’t fall apart the same way Luo Binghe inevitably will. It’s not going to hurt him as much as it’ll hurt Luo Binghe, devastate him. He’ll be able to manage just fine, as though Luo Binghe never entered his life, but Luo Binghe will never be able to have anyone else. No one could compare to his Shizun. But Shen Qingqiu, he’ll manage just fine.
Luo Binghe doesn’t cry, not even when he kisses Shen Qingqiu, wondering when it’ll be over.
4.
Luo Binghe has been cooking the congee all day, making sure the broth is marrow-sweetened and perfect for his Shizun. He’d woken early to start the broth, and he was almost finished cooking the rice now. He made his own broth from a cornish hen he bought at the supermarket--the local Meijers had them for cheaper than the local Chinese market. He’d tucked a bit of ginger inside the hen before covering it with water in a large pot he’d let simmer with a couple of scallions for a few hours. Once the broth was done, he’d added the rice, which was almost done at this point. Now, he adds salt and white pepper and shiitake mushrooms. Once the mushrooms are done, he reaches for the container of shredded cornish hen and fresh scallions he’d chopped earlier today, carefully arranging them on top of the congee so it’s picture perfect.
The oven beeps, a sign that the youtiao is done heating up. Shen Qingqiu steps into the room, his bare feet quietly padding on the laminated floors. He looks as beautiful as ever, even with his waist-long hair all sleep-knotted. Luo Binghe will brush it out later, after breakfast, as he does every morning. Luo Binghe doesn’t know how to describe Shen Qingqiu’s face as anything but perfect--the long line of his nose, the gentle curve of his lips--especially as they smile at Luo Binghe--and the warm light in his eyes, all of it just makes Shen Qingqiu the most perfect man alive.
“I can get that,” Shen Qingqiu says.
“Shizun doesn’t need to trouble himself!”
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu admonishes. “It’s no trouble.”
Shen Qingqiu gets the youtiao from the oven. He cuts the fried breadsticks into small, bite-sized pieces, putting them on plates that he takes to their dining table, which is an elegant glass table near the balcony where sunlight streams into the apartment through the glass doors. They don’t have much of a view, mostly only of corporate buildings nearby, but Luo Binghe doesn’t mind. He wouldn’t mind anything, if it meant that he could stay with his Shizun.
His life is perfect in every way for having his Shizun in it, except for the part where Shen Qingqiu doesn’t love him. To him, their relationship is temporary, fleeting. He hopes that Luo Binghe will one day stop loving him, even as he enjoys Luo Binghe’s company for the present moment. They’ve had a life together for three years after three years of Luo Binghe at university, having finished early. Luo Binghe thought for a long time that Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t want him. Luo Binghe now knows that Shen Qingqiu does want him, but he doesn’t want a future with him.
But Luo Binghe will accept all the love he can get from his Shizun, even if it won’t last.
There’s a fluttering in his chest as he sets out the congee at the table, Shen Qingqiu closing his eyes as he smells it. Shen Qingqiu smiles at the aroma, but Luo Binghe’s thoughts are preoccupied. Maybe he could do it again, try telling Shen Qingqiu he loved him. In just a small way, maybe one way that Shen Qingqiu would accept. If it was small, maybe Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t be put-off by it? Maybe, in these little ways, Shen Qingqiu could accept Luo Binghe as part of his future? Luo Binghe’s heart thuds in his chest.
“I want to cook like this for you every day,” For the rest of our lives, Luo Binghe says, palms sweating.
Shen Qingqiu takes dips a piece of youtiao in the congee, slurping them up from his soup spoon. “Ahh, but then I’d have no motivation to learn how to cook for myself. What am I going to do when Binghe is gone, after all?”
Shen Qingqiu knows that one day, Luo Binghe’s hatred for him is going to win over his love. And on that day, Luo Binghe will exit his life as suddenly as he came back into it, and Shen Qingqiu will have nothing left to do but regret the fuckup the System made of his life by forcing Luo Binghe into that hellscape of a university. Even if it was the System that forced his hand, it was still Shen Qingqiu’s hand that drove the blade into Luo Binghe’s chest. He could’ve found another way, should’ve. But he didn’t. So this is the life he has to live. With the one day Luo Binghe inevitably removes himself from Shen Qingqiu’s life, leaving Shen Qingqiu the poorer for it. He tries to lose himself in the deliciousness of the congee, savoring it while he can.
When Binghe is gone. Luo Binghe knows he means, When I leave him.
Luo Binghe tries not to cry--he’s gotten better at it, much better at it, enough that Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even notice--and pretends that any tears in his eyes are from burning his tongue. A life with Shizun at all, even if it’s temporary, is enough.
5.
The way Luo Binghe found out that Shen Qingqiu returned his feelings was when Luo Binghe had slept over, and neither of them wanted to banish the other to the couch, so they agreed upon sharing Shen Qingqiu’s enormous bed. That night, Luo Binghe had a lucid dream of Shen Qingqiu where Luo Binghe kissed him. Luo Binghe’s morning began with Shen Qingqiu waking him up by stroking his cheek, Shen Qingqiu’s touch tentative, like it’d be rejected. Luo Binghe had been ecstatic that Shen Qingqiu was touching him, because he was ever so reserved with his touch that it had been a blessing to simply sleep beside him, so close. To have his touch at all was truly a miracle.
Shen Qingqiu had cleared his throat and started to pull his hand away, but Luo Binghe had held Shen Qingqiu’s hand on his cheek.
Shen Qingqiu said quietly, “I had a strange dream last night about Binghe.”
“I dreamt last night about Shizun, too,” Luo Binghe said, just as softly.
Shen Qingqiu blushed. “Binghe should go first.”
Luo Binghe had smiled. “Shizun will hate me if I go first.”
“I could never hate Binghe!”
But you couldn’t love me, either , Luo Binghe had thought. “Shizun is the one who spoke first, so he should go first.”
Shen Qingqiu sighed, stroking his thumb across Luo Binghe’s cheek as Luo Binghe leaned into it. “I had a dream that Binghe…”
“That I?”
“That Binghe...nevermind.”
Impulsively, knowing that Shen Qingqiu would hate him but needing to, somehow, just--needing to do it, Luo Binghe slid a hand behind Shen Qingqiu’s head, fingers threading into his hair, and pressed his lips to Shen Qingqiu’s, just a whisper of a kiss.
“That I did this?” Luo Binghe said.
Shen Qingqiu stared at him, wide-eyed, for just a second. Then, he held Luo Binghe’s face in both his hands and kissed him, his mouth clumsy but intent, and it wasn’t long before both of them found just the right angle and just the right depth of kiss to send frissions of heat through their bodies. They kissed a long while before they spoke again. It was Shen Qingqiu who pulled back first.
“Binghe, too?” Shen Qingqiu said, suddenly shy.
Luo Binghe pretended that Shen Qingqiu meant, Binghe loves me, too? because he couldn’t, he couldn’t possibly, not after pushing him away the way he did, to a university he didn’t want and didn’t belong in, and with that in mind, trying to maintain the fragile fabric of his fantasy, Luo Binghe tried to say I love you back. “I have always felt strongly about Shizun.”
Shen Qingqiu’s heart stung because Binghe was just being kind. Maybe at some point, Luo Binghe adored him, felt the love of some kind of friendship between them in high school, but now, that strong feeling, it must have been hatred. It could only be hatred. Shen Qingqiu didn’t understand why Luo Binghe was kissing him if he hated him, why Luo Binghe had been so sweet to him lately, ever since they reunited, but Shen Qingqiu missed him so badly that he was willing to take anything he could get. Maybe one day, Luo Binghe’s feelings would change, but even if they never did, even if, Shen Qingqiu would treasure what they had.
Instead of saying anything, Shen Qingqiu just kissed him. He didn’t know what to say, of course Binghe still hated him. But if Binghe would give him this, that was enough.
Luo Binghe interpreted Shen Qingqiu’s silence as a subtle rejection of his feelings, Shen Qingqiu too gentle to outwardly reject his confession, or to really respond to it at all. If he felt something back, he would’ve said something, wouldn’t he have? If someone didn’t have anything nice to say, they wouldn’t say it at all. Shen Qingqiu didn’t have anything nice to say to Luo Binghe confessing the depth of his emotion for Shen Qingqiu, so he didn’t say anything at all.
So Luo Binghe just kissed him back.
+1.
Shen Qingqiu finds Luo Binghe sobbing in bed when he comes home this evening. He immediately drops everything and goes to him, curling his body around him, behind him, Shen Qingqiu’s body the big spoon the way he knows Luo Binghe likes, even though Luo Binghe is the bigger man. Shen Qingqiu wraps his arms around Luo Binghe’s waist, hugging him as he cries, pressing kisses onto his shoulder through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He has no idea what’s wrong, Luo Binghe was fine just yesterday and the day before, seeming as sticky as ever when Shen Qingqiu got home and before Shen Qingqiu left home. He’s been normal this whole week, brushing his hair as usual, making breakfast and lunch and dinner. Shen Qingqiu has no idea what’s wrong.
It hurts Shen Qingqiu’s heart to see Luo Binghe like this because he knows, he knows Luo Binghe gets like this sometimes, his heart so big that there is nowhere for any of the emotion to go except for out. Sometimes, it’s small things that set him off, like Shen Qingqiu giving Luo Binghe a neutral face rather than a smile one morning when he’s distracted, and Luo Binghe not being able to read that as anything but some kind of sign that Shen Qingqiu hates him, is angry with him, doesn’t want to see him ever again, although Shen Qingqiu has no idea where he got that last one. Shen Qingqiu’s been his friend for years! He’s his lover, now! Even if they broke up--and it would shatter a piece of Shen Qingqiu’s soul if they did--Shen Qingqiu would still be his friend. Sometimes, he can get Binghe to believe that, and other times, he can’t.
He hopes today is one of the times he can.
Shen Qingqiu squeezes his arms around Luo Binghe’s waist. “Binghe, look at me.”
“Shizun...I can’t.”
“Binghe, please. Please look at me. Let me see you.”
Luo Binghe curls in on himself. “Shizun said he doesn’t want to see me cry.”
Binghe! “Binghe, I meant that you shouldn’t have to feel so bad that you’re crying. I don’t want to see you cry because I don’t want you to be sad. I know you have to be, and that this’s just how your brain is sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it’s not hard for me to see you going through a hard time. Let me help.”
“Okay...” Luo Binghe turns in Shen Qingqiu’s arms, and his face is awful , even his ridiculously handsome features are blotchy and swollen with crying. Snot drips from his nose. He’s an ugly crier, but Shen Qingqiu still looks upon him with such love in his heart that it hurts to see him rendered so low. “Shizun, I have to tell you something awful.”
Shen Qingqiu kisses Luo Binghe, tasting the salt of snot running down his mouth. “It’s okay. Nothing you can say will upset me.”
“You haven’t heard what I have to say yet.”
“Whatever it is, we’ll make it through. Together.” I love you. Shen Qingqiu wants to say it, but Shen Yuan has never said it before, not even to his parents, not to his siblings, not to his beloved sister, not when he had them. So he doesn’t know how. And to say it now would sound like a lie, wouldn’t it? Binghe wouldn’t even believe him. He’d think Shen Qingqiu is just trying to console him. So Shen Qingqiu doesn’t say it. Instead, he says, “I care for you more than I’ve cared for anyone in my life.” In either of my lives. “And I want to stay with you--” For the rest of my life , “for a long time.”
“You don’t and you won’t when you hear what I have to say.”
“Binghe, just say it.”
“I love you.” It chokes out of Luo Binghe’s throat, and he breaks down sobbing in Shen Qingqiu’s arms. Shen Qingqiu feels his heart soaring. This? This was the awful thing that had Luo Binghe crying? It wasn’t bad at all! It was good! Binghe, this is good! Shen Qingqiu wants to laugh, he feels so ecstatic that the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with loves him back. But it takes time to settle Luo Binghe down quietly enough that Shen Qingqiu can speak. In the meantime, Shen Qingqiu rains kisses down upon him and rubs his back, pressing his face against the fabric of Luo Binghe’s shirt.
“Is that all?” Shen Qingqiu says gently. “Binghe, is it bad that I feel so happy?”
Luo Binghe turns in his arms and looks up at him. “Shizun?”
“I love you, too.” Shen Qingqiu kisses him. “I love you, Binghe.”
Tears stream down Luo Binghe’s face as he just stares at Shen Qingqiu, bewildered. “But you don’t.”
“Who are you to tell me I don’t?”
“You...you’ve rejected me every time I’ve tried to say I love you.”
Luo Binghe explains all the times, and Shen Qingqiu feels simultaneously like the biggest idiot to ever walk the earth and the worst kind of scum that’s isn’t even worth the regard of being spat on. “Binghe, I thought you still hated me. From when I pushed you to go to that university far away.”
“I never hated you,” Luo Binghe said, shaking his head. “Never. I could never hate Shizun.”
“Well, I was convinced you did. Anyone would.”
“Why?” Because the original Binghe did! But Shen Qingqiu couldn’t say that. “Because I would have hated you.”
“Oh.”
“Shh, shh, Binghe, I don’t hate you now, not even close to it. I love you so much that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, in your arms, your cooking on my table, your hands brushing my hair every morning, your kisses every night. I know I might be moving too fast, since you never said, well, actually, I--too late to take that back, huh, but--”
“Shizun doesn’t need to say anything else! I want the same! I just thought--” Luo Binghe’s voice turns small. “I just thought there was no way that Shizun wanted the same things. I thought that you wanted this to be temporary, that it wasn’t going to last, that...that you were going to leave me.”
“No, Binghe, I’ll never leave you.”
“I won’t leave Shizun, either. Not ever, not ever."
“I love you so much,” Shen Qingqiu says.
“I love you, too. I love you more,” Luo Binghe says.
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu admonishes. “I love you the most.”
“No! I do!” Luo Binghe laughs, his throat still thick with crying.
Shen Qingqiu laughs, too. His heart is fluttering with how glad he is that Luo Binghe loves him. He is going to spend forever with this man, and he will be more in love than the world has ever known. He is happy. For Luo Binghe’s part, he is happy, too, happier than happy. He is elated, soaring higher than high. Shizun loves him, loves him, loves him, Shizun wants to spend forever with him, this is more than he could’ve ever imagined, would’ve ever dared to guess, would’ve ever deserved to want. And he wants it more than anything else. And he gets to have it, he gets to have forever with this man.
Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu are in love. And now, they both know it.
“We both love each other the most,” Shen Qingqiu says, settling into Luo Binghe’s arms.
“Shizun is right as ever.” Luo Binghe smiles, radiant even with a face full of tears.
Shen Qingqiu smiles back. “Of course I am.”
Of course he is.