Work Text:
One of the first things he had learned about his husband after they were married (other than the fact that his protagonist halo somehow did not extend to papapa in this universe—System what the fuck) was that Luo Binghe did not know how to take care of his hair.
He hadn’t noticed when Binghe was younger—he would give Binghe head pats because how was he supposed to resist that cute, fluffy head, but he wouldn’t dare to run his fingers through the long wavy locks. There was no way he would have done it right after Binghe had left the Abyss. While he knew now that is husband wasn’t out to kill him, the Shen Qingqiu of the past did not know that.
Binghe’s hair had always looked fine. Sure, it looked a little frizzy sometimes after they bathed and he had dried his hair quickly, but he had never thought too much about it.
Now though, watching his husband yank a comb through tangled locks trying to get the gore and viscera of their latest enemy out of his hair, Shen Qingqiu knew better.
And now it all made sense. Why his husband always kept his hair up, why he never let Shen Qingqiu do his hair despite insisting on always styling Shen Qingqiu’s. His husband didn’t know how to take care of his own hair.
A travesty! There was no way that Shen Qingqiu could allow this to continue.
“Binghe,” he barked from where he was sitting by the bank of the stream they were washing up in once he saw the water run clean of blood. “Come here. This husband has an idea.”
Binghe shot forward, water splashing as he rushed out of the stream and up the bank to where Shen Qingqiu was sitting like a dog rushing to greet their master. Shen Qingqiu tried (and failed) not to get distracted by Binghe’s chest glistening with water. It wasn’t his fault that Binghe had such a beautiful body.
“Yes Shizun?” His husband asked, now kneeling in front of Shen Qingqiu.
He internally cooed, his husband really was so cute. While Binghe was no longer his little white lotus, his husband still never failed to remind him of a fluffy black sheep. Absolutely adorable and precious, despite how much vinegar he chugged.
“Turn around and hand me the comb,” he spoke softly, holding out his hand.
He watched as Binghe’s expression warred between emotions. He could see the initial elation at the idea of receiving his affections (his husband really was so simple minded sometimes, he still didn’t understand why Binghe fell in love with him of all people, but he treasured it all the same) but also a slight hesitation when he realised that Shen Qingqiu wanted to brush the mess of tangles he usually hid with a ponytail.
“It seems to this master that Binghe does not know how to properly care for his hair,” Shen Qingqiu once more spoke softly, tilting Binghe’s head straight to face the river. “Allow me to teach him.”
“Thanking Shizun for enlightening this husband,” Binghe said slightly breathy as Shen Qingqiu began to gently run his fingers through Binghe’s still wet hair.
“This won’t do,” Shen Qingqiu murmured to himself, pausing his ministrations to reach into the qiankun bag beside him.
He had already finished his bath and had stashed away his bathing supplies since he had been covered in significantly less gore than his husband had been. He had learned early on when he became Shen Qingqiu that he must never look anything less than the lofty immortal he was supposed to be, and since the skinner mission so long ago he had started to carry with him a pouch of extra clothes and any other needed supplies that would help uphold that image.
While he had not expected to be covered in gore from a Tri-horned Fox Bear while he was looking for Weeping Glass Flowers that he thought would be a nice addition to their bamboo cottage that wouldn’t induce sex pollen papapa, he was glad he had come prepared to clean up.
He reached around within the bad, pulling out a vial of hair oil and an absorbent rag. He gently began to scrunch Binghe’s hair to dry his dripping locks a little, hoping he was remembering the right method to dry wavy and curly hair (he had never met anyone with curly hair before coming to this world, but he had a vague memory of someone in the PIDW forums mentioning something about proper hair care for curls after wife 218 or something).
When Binghe’s hair was just barely dry enough that he wasn’t going to soak his sleeves or lap, he began to finger comb his husband's damp hair. He uncorked the vial, pouring some of the oil into his hands and gently began to work it into Binghe’s hair.
He hummed a little under his breath, gently untangling the knots that littered Binghe’s usually fluffy expanse of hair. He could feel Binghe relaxing more and more under his ministrations, his body near limp as Shen Qingqiu continued to work. Good, his husband deserved to relax.
He used the comb to untangle the worst of the knots, trying not to use it too much because he had a feeling that the comment on wife plot 218 also said something about how her hair would be a frizzy mess if it was bushed the way it was described.
Once he was through with the tangles, he began to gently play with Binghe’s hair. He couldn’t help it; it was just so soft and smooth now. Who could resist running their fingers through the protagonist’s hair.
Eventually he began to braid Binghe’s hair, weaving some of the flowers that lined the bank around them into the braid. It was silly, but there was just something so soft about Binghe sitting so vulnerably like this while he let Shen Qingqiu braid his hair that felt like it deserved flowers.
He took his time with the braid, making sure each section was an even tightness and that the flowers were arranged just right within Binghe’s long fluffy locks.
Done with the braid, he spread his legs and pulled Binghe against his chest, nuzzling slightly against the side of his head. His husband was just so cute, he couldn’t help it.
“Husband?” Binghe made an inquiring sound, nearly melting against Shen Qingqiu’s chest.
“Shush Binghe, just relax,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Binghe’s waist.
He snuck a hand out, grabbing a few flowers and began to weave them into a crown. This wasn’t a skill he had had in his previous life, too much of a homebody to know how to make flower crowns or braid hair, but it was one he was grateful had transferred over from Shen Jiu’s life.
He gently placed the crown on top of Binghe’s head once he was finished with it, placing another kiss against Binghe’s forehead once the crown was in place. Sue him, his adorable demon lord husband deserved a fitting crown.
“Shizun?” Binghe hummed, turning slightly in Shen Qingqiu’s hold to properly look at him.
Shen Qingqiu just booped his nose, unable to resist with how soft his husband looked right now. He saw Binghe’s eyes light up at the action, and before he knew it Binghe was fully turning in his arms and launching himself to wrap around Shen Qingqiu like the sticky little husband he was.
He began to pepper Shen Qingqiu’s face with kisses, leaving a lingering one against his husband’s lips.
That’s pretty gay Binghe, he thought to himself with a slight chuckle. But I guess maybe I’m a little too if this is what love feels like.
Never before had he thought he would be in this situation—married to the protagonist of the novel he loved hated, or that the blackened protagonist he had originally loved could fall in love with him, but here he was married and braiding his maiden-hearted husband's fluffy hair with flowers.
“Apologies to Shizun, but this Binghe thinks he may require some extra lessons,” his husband spoke against his lips before pressing into another long, lingering kiss.
Shen Qingqiu just huffed, weaving a hand carefully into Binghe’s hair so as to not disturb his work, before pulling his sticky husband closer. He would teach his silly husband as many times as he wanted if it got to end like this every time.
