Chapter Text
His foot beats an uneven rhythm in the waiting room of the train station, the glasses he has become accustomed to slipping down his nose, and he nervously puts them back in place. Shang Qinghua is damn late. Or rather, the train arrived sixteen minutes ago, but they're in a stalemate and he's waiting like hell for another transmigrant (or are they no longer transmigrants? why did the System give them two seconds to say goodbye and then they came back? what's going on? he promised Luo Binghe not to leave him again) to skin him.
'Bro, just don't freak out please', Airplane texted him without a single mistake, and Shen Qingqiu, no... Shen Yuan is definitely starting to freak out.
Finding each other online wasn't a big deal when they woke up again; as it turned out, remembering how to use messages was like riding a bicycle, if not even easier. True, it turned out that Shang Qinghua had no money, I mean, literally no money at all. It took a few more hours before Shen Yuan could remember what his bank account looked like, what his pin number was, and how to transfer money to someone. Shen Yuan only then realized that he could have just flown behind Shang Qinghua on their family's private jet (Airplane bombarded him with messages when he noticed it, barraging him with questions about how rich he was; Shen Yuan only rolled his eyes, he personally knows five families that are richer than him), but then his parents (gods, his parents, his brothers, his sister is here, he can see them, he can hug them) would know about it, and Shen Yuan is Is not ready to meet them. Not now.
Suddenly, Shen Yuan heard a squeak from behind in the seats and a voice behind him:
“Don't make a scene, Cucumber-bro”, he would have recognized that voice out of a thousand; which wasn't surprising since he was married to a man with that voice. But he had never heard this intonation before. Shen Yuan turns around and sees the face he expected to see, his glasses almost flying off from the inertia. “Bro, take it easy! Hush, it's just me”, says (not) Luo Binghe, with his hands raised and a nervous (so charming) smile.
Shen Yuan stares and stares, gulping air with his mouth, unable to find words.
His eyes are black instead of red, his forehead is without demonic markings, his wavy hair is shorter than he's ever seen and a shade closer to dirty orange, so far from black, and there are more piercings and earrings in his ears than he ever thought to see.
“Airplane?” he didn't quite spit out that name, he didn't mean to be rude, but he'd be more likely to believe that now Liu-shidi would suddenly appear on the other side and tell him it was all one long weird dream than to believe that.
“Cucumber-bro?”
“Why...” his throat is dry, licking his cracked lips, and his (not) husband's eyes aren't even following his movements, ”why do you have Luo Binghe's face?”
“Technically,” begins awkwardly not his husband, something Shen Yuan has never heard in that voice, ”it's Luo Binghe who has my face, you know? Father and son, that sort of thing...”
О.
Oh.
It's clear.
Shen Yuan has figured it out.
He'll kill him.
“Shang Qinghua!”
“Bro, we're at the train station, no scenes, bro! Don't yell!”