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It’s late in the afternoon when Luo Binghe returns to Qing Jing peak. On another day, he might have waited. He doesn’t want to cause any trouble for his husband, so he usually prefers to join him away from the prying eyes of the meddling sect, elders and disciples alike.
But he has not seen Shen Qingqiu in almost a week now, and the ache of separation is almost unbearable. Demons are meddlesome creatures, and he has a role to fill, an image to uphold. The conference has dragged on longer than expected and, now, every second spent apart feels like too much.
Still, Luo Binghe is clever enough not to get caught on the way to the familiar bamboo house. It’s always nostalgic to come back here, a reminder of years when things were easier. There was a time where he longed for those days. He prefers the present now.
Lost in thoughts, he pushes open the door not really expecting to find anyone besides his husband inside.
Ming Fan and Ning Yingying stare at him, clearly just as surprised as Luo Binghe feels. He doesn’t have to ask what they are doing here, Ming Fan is brandishing a broom and Ning Yingying is on her tiptoes dusting off Shen Qingqiu’s impressive fan collection. There’s an instinctive growl at the back of his throat, a pang of red-hot jealousy in his blood but then Ning Yingying beams at him, while Ming Fan gives him a curt nod and the feeling dissipates.
“A-Luo, it’s good to have you back here,” Ning Yingying greets him with the same contagious cheer that always made it so easy to talk to her. “Shizun missed you greatly,” she adds, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
Predictably, Ming Fan lets out an affronted noise. “You shouldn’t talk about Shizun like that.” He’s glaring at Luo Binghe with the ease of having done the same thing for years. It feels more like a habit than actual resentment at this point and Luo Binghe flashes him a sharp grin in response.
He’s about to say something even more outrageous when Ning Yingying steps forward with a small smile, deceptively gentle and full of mischief. “Have you met the new disciples yet? One of them reminds me a lot of you when we were young.” Although it’s Ning Yingying telling the story, Luo Binghe’s gaze flickers to Ming Fang who looks increasingly panicked. “He’s dreadfully attached to –“
Before she can finish her tale, Ming Fan pushes the broom at her interrupting her steady chatter. “Ning Shijie has become quite the gossip ever since she started spending a lot of time at Xian Shu Peak.” He talks a little too fast, a little frazzled around the edges as he very obviously tries to distract Luo Binghe from whatever delightful news Ning Yingying has for him.
He doesn’t mind all that much though, because Ning Yingying shuffles at the mention of the other peak, a delicate flush rising in her cheeks.
Luo Binghe raises his eyebrows at them; his fellow disciples have secrets now. He wonders if Shen Qingqiu knows. If not, Luo Binghe will find out for him. But more than their absolute incompetence at keeping secrets secret, he notices something else. They are happy, relaxed and so very obviously comfortable with his presence that his heart aches.
Ning Yingying shakes her head at his silent question, placing the broom in its proper corner. “Another time, A-Luo. Shizun should come back soon, so we’ll take our leave. You’ll stay a little longer this time, won’t you?” She turns to him with hopeful eyes, and his throat feels a little raw.
“That depends,” he drawls, after a brief moment of silence. It’s telling, but they don’t call him out on it. “Will you run off and tattle to that brute?” The question is directed at Ming Fan, who is caught between taking offense on Liu Qingge’s part and denying the accusation.
“He won’t,” Ning Yingying tells him with an air of finality, grabbing Ming Fan’s arm to steer him towards the door. “You won’t, right?” She adds in a sweet voice that reminds him of Sha Hualing. The mental image is jarring.
Ming Fan grumbles, looking everywhere but at Luo Binghe as he nods. “I’ll send someone if he catches wind of you,” he mutters and Luo Binghe has a hard time to keep his grin contained. Ming Fan has come a long way from the mean, jealous person he once was. On some days, Luo Binghe almost likes him.
From the way Ming Fan glares at him over Ning Yingying’s shoulder as she gently guides him out, he’s sure the feeling is mutual.
Then they’re gone, and the little bamboo hut is quiet except for the soft noises drifting in from outside. Luo Binghe takes a moment to look around. The place has barely changed over the years and it’s so quintessentially Shen Qingqiu that Luo Binghe almost can’t breathe with how much he loves it. It’s been his home for many years, and he still can’t quite believe that he is welcome here again.
“Binghe.” The voice startles him. It’s rare that someone manages to sneak up on him but then again Shen Qingqiu has always been his weakness.
“Shizun.” He turns around to greet his husband. His cheeks are almost hurting with the smile that pulls at his lips the moment he sees the other. He opens his arms, taking a step forward and –
Shen Qingqiu surprises him again, crashing into his arms with the desperation of a drowning man, hugging him tightly. Luo Binghe opens his mouth to tease, to ask if his dearest husband missed him when Shen Qingqiu gives that answer readily. “This master has missed you,” he whispers into Luo Binghe’s shoulder and his heart clenches.
Just hearing those words, fills him with so much happiness that he threatens to burst with it. His eyes are feeling suspiciously wet already and he hides it pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his husband’s head. He smells like rain and bamboo, like love and home.
“This one missed you as well, Shizun.”
Shen Qingqiu’s hold around him tightens and warmth swells in his chest. He’s welcome here and, more than that, he’s wanted by the one person he adores more than anyone else. They stay like that for a long moment. Outside the wind is brushing through the bamboo leaves, the noise familiar and comforting just like Shen Qingqiu, warm and loving in his arms.
He’s finally home again.