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Shen Yuan’s just acquired the headache of a lifetime.
The seemingly inconspicuous demon-lord in front of him is squirming nervously in Shen Yuan’s recliner. “Is it that obvious?”
He gets the urge to face palm so hard his brains fly out. Yes, it is that obvious! Who the hell wears this kind of garb with that much self-assurance anymore unless you're cosplaying! And what's with that luscious head of hair!? He’s pissed off.
Except, he says none of that. Shen Yuan, trying to channel his inner cucumber, offers, “Way too obvious.”
“Oh.” There's some more shifting. “Do you… know who I am?”
“Uh,” Shen Yuan says, looking him up and down. Does he? He feels like he should. He squints. “What's your name again?”
“My name…” The guy in front of him looks like he just got his dog stolen, expression forlorn. Something wrenches in his gut. “My name is Luo Binghe.”
Luo Binghe. Huh. Shen Yuan ignores the chill that runs down his spine as he looks Luo Binghe up and down once more. He seems enough of a protagonist, and if you know one then you know them all. “Shen Yuan,” he says in response, bowing his head.
There's too much reverence in Luo Binghe’s voice as he repeats his name. “Shen Yuan,” he says slowly, nodding in time. His fist curls on his knee. “I like your name here.”
Shen Yuan bites the inside of this cheek. An hour ago, he got a stranger—tall, dark, and handsome, but still a stranger!—on his doorstep with weeping eyes, blubbering about something or the other, completely throwing off the vibe Shen Yuan had constructed as he delved into his daily stallion novel read after stealthily avoiding his mother’s phone calls.
I like your name here. Here. As if there's somewhere else he is, or was; as if he and the young man sitting on his couch, who he's certainly older than, have some long, winding history that he isn't privy to.
He nods absently, arms crossing across his chest. He’s been standing near the door all the while, too anxious to sit and ready to bolt if things get too weird. Here. Where else would he be?
There’s a sharp intake of breath that makes Shen Yuan’s gaze turn back to him. There's barely concealed rage in his eyes, something despairing in his tone as Luo Binghe says, “You don't know me.” It sounds like it's supposed to come out as a question but ends up a statement, one that Shen Yuan winces at.
He feels bad for him as he nods once, quietly, because what is there to say? I’m sorry your transmigration was a bust, but you've got the wrong guy? He would probably choose to end it all right then and there if it were him. Thankfully, he has a cleaning service in his contacts if things get too messy. Shen Yuan is bad with blood.
Except, when Luo Binghe stands solemnly and unsheathes the sword at his side, the warning bells in his head start going off because Shen Yuan wasn't actually expecting the guy to go ahead and kill himself in the middle of his living room!
Luo Binghe raises his arm, sword in hand, poised on what seems like a downward movement. “Wait,” Shen Yuan gets out, “Shit, don't—”
The sword cuts downward into the air. Shen Yuan freezes, having sprinted halfway across the room to grip Luo Binghe’s forearm, whatever he was going to continue saying forgotten because a portal just opened in front of him, what the fuck.
The portal, the ripple in the middle of his living room, whatever it is, reminds him of a hot summer day, the ones where all you can do is squint into the distance to parse out how many heatwaves you're actually seeing. Something that looks like it could be there, but maybe it isn't.
Of course this guy, this Luo Binghe, would open a portal in his living room, because what else would he do after sitting there for over an hour and a half looking absolutely miserable.
Luo Binghe very confidently says, “I’m going to make things right,” and faster than Shen Yuan can process that, has him lifted over his shoulder. He’s lightheaded, and more than being able to focus on the implications of whatever ‘making things right’ means, all he feels is Luo Binghe’s arms, strong and reassuring, like he's done this hundreds of times, around his middle.
And then he can't object or ask any questions at all because Luo Binghe steps through the portal, and the pressure in his head from inter-worldly travel comes to a crescendo as he simply passes out.