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“There’s one thing I still don’t understand.”
Those words come in the voice of a young man. It’s pleasant to the ears, the perfect balance between youthfulness and a certain maturity that can only come after a life of hardships—or rather, several lifespans of hardship.
Those words find an answer in an equally pleasant voice; the only difference between them, this second young man found a kindness too deep to put into proper words and was saved from the worst parts of himself. “And what is it?”
A sigh. It sounds tired but not quite. It’s hard to precisely describe the nuances of a centuries old demon emperor. Years of knowledge and pain that Luo BingHe did not go through and, in his love-filled reality with the Shizun he loves, would never go through.
“Why did you agree to this?” There’s a frown on Bing-ge’s face. It looks so out of place with his imposing figure and the menacing aura he carries at all times it’s jarring.
Luo BingHe falls silent. The only sounds filling the bamboo house are those of a knife cutting through the meat and the gentle stirring of a pot. It looks and smells twice as deliciously as the usual. Unsurprising, considering there are two skilled pairs of hands working on the meal. His meal. All, all for Shizun’s sake.
“I think...” Luo BingHe takes a sip of the congee they’re preparing. He hums in approving. Behind him, Luo Bing-ge pours the cut meat into the soup. “I just didn’t want Shizun to be sad.”
Luo Bing-ge glances at the wall behind them. On the other side of this wall, a man clad in white and teal robes lies on his bed, surrendered to peaceful slumber. “I don’t understand.”
Luo BingHe chuckles. He flashes Bing-ge a grin. “And you think I do?” When Luo BingHe continues, however, his voice also turned softer. “I guess... The Shizun who was willing to sacrifice himself to save me would never just stand by and see you, another me, suffering alone.”
Luo Bing-ge closes his eyes. He remembers rummaging through Shen QingQiu’s memories the first time he visited this world. He remembers the yearning, the despair, the love, each and every emotion so vivid he choked through their shared dream. There were foggy parts, too. The reason for his fear and despair, one that went far beyond anything Luo BingHe could do, fear for Luo BingHe—not even Luo Bing-ge could decipher most of it.
Perhaps it’s due to Shen QingQiu’s mind. He put all those memories in a box and refuses to remove the seal. What Luo Bing-ge doesn’t know is whether he did so consciously or as a means to keep his sanity.
He bites his lip. In the end, does it truly matter? He already knows this Shen QingQiu isn’t the same as the Shen QingQiu who abused him. Luo Bing-ge doesn’t care if he had a change of heart or a change of soul—not as long as this man still looks at him with those fond eyes.
“It’s just how he is, huh?” Luo Bing-ge moves on to prepare tea for his Shizun. Shizun, yes. That’s safe enough. It’s never a good thing to raise hopes.
“You’ll get used to it,” Luo BingHe reassures lightly. Despite his words, his eyes are dull. “I just wish... I realized it earlier.”
Luo Bing-ge knows there’s no way Luo BingHe could have know, not when Shen QingQiu didn’t know, either. Or, at least, wouldn’t admit it to himself. He’s a difficult man to read, and even harder to understand. A surprise and a shock, considering his affection is anything but complicated.
He loves who he loves and isn’t scared of protecting them. Those he dislikes, he can remain courteous enough to be considered polite. For those he hates... Luo Bing-ge isn’t sure. He doesn’t think there’s anyone Shen QingQiu truly hates in this world. Luo Bing-ge can’t help but find it amusing, how this oblivious man’s kindness saved even those who didn’t deserve it.
He thinks of the incident a month ago, the shock of seeing a man who looked exactly like him stepping into his throne room through a portal. Luo Bing-ge was convinced he’d never return to that world, that the other XinMo was destroyed forever, but that wasn’t the case. Not only did it still exist, that Luo BingHe used it to find him. To bring him back with him.
“Please cooperate. But if you won’t, it’s no trouble either. I’ll just drag you back,” he had said with all the confidence only a brat could muster. For the better or the worse, Luo Bing-ge was also a brat, one seasoned with all the spite accumulated over three hundred years.
They fought. Neither won. Both stepped through the portal covered in blood and injuries. Both were received with a fan smacking them on the head and gentle hands tending to their wounds. Luo Bing-ge watched with his own eyes as they broke both versions of XinMo and listened in silent awe to this Shizun’s promises of getting him a new sword.
Since then... Luo Bing-ge really didn’t know how to classify their relationship. Luo BingHe didn’t seem to resent him. Shen QingQiu didn’t spare efforts to make him feel included, either. When people from all of Cang Qiong Mountain barged into Qing Jing Peak, Shen QingQiu defended him, both him.
And yet, his affections were not quite the same as the ones the other BingHe received. He never kissed Bing-ge, or held him like he did to BingHe, nor did he allow Bing-ge to touch him like a lover. He’s welcome. They made sure of it. And yet...
We’re not the same.
“The congee is ready. Don’t forget Shizun likes his tea green. Make sure there are leaves. Shizun likes it when there are some. He likes it even more when they float. Oh, and make something warm for lunch. It’s getting colder these days, and—”
“Where will you be?” Bing-ge interrupts him.
“Where did you spend your days when you were away from home?” Luo BingHe arches an eyebrow.
Bing-ge narrows his eyes. MoBei-Jun it is, then. Probably killing off unruly beasts. Or so he hopes. He had to attend one too many parties with the demon court and Bing-ge certainly doesn’t wish that kind of torture not even to his worst enemy.
As if reading his thoughts, Luo BingHe grimaces. Bing-ge pats his shoulder in same person solidarity.
“If Liu... shishu comes again, please beat him up in my stead. Not too much, though, or Shizun will be mad.” His voice sounds almost like a whine. His saving grace, Luo Bing-ge likes Liu QingGe just as much as him. Which is to say... Not at all.
“Thank you,” is all he says before he leaves Bing-ge to his own devices.
Bing-ge sighs, and immediately occupies himself with finishing off Shizun’s first meal of the day. He’s in the middle of putting water to boil when he has a shocking realization: this is the first time Luo BingHe left him all alone with Shizun.
He purses his lips and pushes the onslaught of emotions to the back of his heart. Later, he’ll have all the time in the world to dwell on them. Now, he has a Shizun to tend to.
In all honesty, Shen QingQiu’s favorite sleeping place is still the bamboo house at Qing Jing Peak. Don’t take him wrong. He loves their cottage on a remote mountain and he definitely appreciates the luxury of Luo BingHe’s palace in the demon realm. But the bed in his bamboo house is already shaped to his weight, a safe, familiar heaven where he can sleep soundly long after Luo BingHe leaves the bed.
Perhaps, that’s why Luo BingHe insisted that they come back here. Not just for Bing-ge’s sake, who’s still somewhat at odds with this reality, but so that Shen QingQiu can have an undisturbed rest. That little shit. Shen QingQiu’s little shit.
He stirs and opens his eyes. Usually one couldn’t tell his pupil and iris apart; right now, however, the Sun rays shine upon him making his eyes look like a pair of multi-colored tiger’s eye stones. This look coupled with his pitch-black hair, the loose white robes, the marks littering his chest and shoulder, and the softly flushed cheeks make for an extremely endearing, utterly alluring picture.
Shen QingQiu sits up slowly, a soft sigh escaping his lip. A couple strands of hair slip over his shoulder. Shen QingQiu pulls them back and tucks a few more behind his ear. His definitely-not-a-pout disappear when he notices he’s not alone in the room.
Luo... Shen QingQiu tilts his head, eyes narrowing on the man. Black clothes. Loose hair. Demonic mark... Oh. Black earring on right ear. Bing-ge it is. Shen QingQiu smiles, “Good morning.”
He glances around. BingHe isn’t anywhere to be seen. So he really left, huh. Shen QingQiu can’t help but remember how—secretly—mad being left behind made him. But he wasn’t left behind now, was he? He’s not alone... Bing-ge is right here with him.
He takes his seat across Bing-ge. There’s warm congee and a tea set. Shen QingQiu’s gaze lasts longer at the cup; Bing-ge promptly pours tea for him. With a small nod of gratitude, he picks the cup. He stares at the liquid for a long moment before his expression eases into a smile.
This seems to pick Bing-ge’s curiosity. His voice remains neutral enough, though. “I never saw someone so happy at tea leaves.”
Shen QingQiu pauses, then remembers there are many parts of their culture that Airplane-bro left outside of the original text. He could forgive leaving out more modern things, but this? This is treason! Tea is one of the few things appreciated across the world, and one of the even fewer things that warrant countless traditions and superstitions too!
He scoffs mentally at his fellow transmigrator. His voice is still a little rough with sleep. “Where I came from, they’re considered a sign good fortune.” He twirls his cup in his hand. His eyes lock on a bubble that formed on the liquid’s surface. “It’s also used as a form of fortune telling... Not only the leaves. The bubbles too. See? This one very close to the edge? It means I’ll get a kiss today! Oh, two, actually. This never happens. Interesting,” he murmurs.
Shen QingQiu didn’t notice it, but he leaned closer to the table, and Bing-ge, closer to him. The first thing he sees when he rises his eyes from the cup are Bing-ge’s eyes, very, very close to his own.
Luo Bing-ge doesn’t pull back. Instead, he watches Shen QingQiu with unreadable eyes. “Tell me more?” he asks in a whisper.
Shen QingQiu blinks. He swallows. “You... Want to hear?”
Not many people did. Not when he went on tirades about his favorite books from the library, or the different sword techniques across the jianghu, or the fascinating beasts lying beyond the demon realm’s borders. Most of them excuse themselves for one reason or another, while others simply stomp out of the room. After some time and a number of similar rejections, Shen QingQiu learned to hold it all inside. Even from BingHe, who he’s sure will listen to everything he says. He just can’t help but be afraid... That BingHe will just endure it for his sake. That he doesn’t want to hear, that he wants to be anywhere but at Shen QingQiu’s side during those moments.
But Bing-ge’s voice doesn’t waver. “I do.”
And Shen QingQiu simply smiles. He pats on floor. Luo Bing-ge takes the spot on his side. His shoulder is warm against Shen QingQiu’s when he leans closer, curiously watching the tea cups—or, maybe, he’s just watching Shen QingQiu’s hands.
“Well...”
“And that’s how you figure out your astral map. It’s fun.” Shen QingQiu’s voice sounds light and almost amused, if a bit muffed. He’s probably hiding his smile behind his fan again, Yue QingYuan thinks to himself. It’s an endearing habit his shidi picked up some years ago, as opposed to the sneers he used to hide before.
He raises his hand to knock on the door. Any more listening like this and it’ll be far from appropriate, after all. He stops a mere cun away from touching the wood, a second voice coming through.
“So that means I’m a Scorpio with...” There’s a short pause, as though the man is frowning, deep in thought. “Ascendant in Libra?”
“Yes! That’s exactly it! And it actually explains a lot!”
“Are you calling me a jerk, Shizun?” The words linger between a teasing remark and an offended offense. Yue QingYuan shivers, even more at the laugh that follows it. Shen QingQiu sounds happy, happier than he’s ever been with Yue QingYuan. And the realization, it hurts. “I’m still not sure how this can help beating enemies or predicting the future but I’ll take it.”
“Who said this is about any of that?” Shen QingQiu clicks his tongue. The action is rude, but his companion doesn’t seem to mind. “Listen here, silly child: it’s all about learning more about yourself. In other words, understanding yourself, the good, the bad, what can be improved. Didn’t you know? The best way to ensure victory is knowing yourself and the enemy!”
“How about you, then? Why don’t you tell me yours?” There’s a hint of a challenge in those words.
“... Irrelevant.” Footsteps. Someone’s moving. From the sound of it, Yue QingYuan is sure it’s Shen QingQiu. “Don’t look at me like that! Even I have things I’d rather ignore, you know...”
“So it’s that bad.”
“Yes, it’s that bad.”
“Amusing. Shizun is really good from my perspective.”
A sharp inhale, audible even through the muffling of walls. Yue QingYuan heart sinks at the next words: “For you, I have to be.”
He swallows. Unwilling to listen any more, he resolutely knocks on the door. Hiding his shaking hands behind his back, Yue QingYuan awaits. The door slides open.
Shen QingQiu is as beautiful as ever. His robes—light green and silver with specks of white flowers along the collar—contrast beautifully against the dark hair and eyes. A silver headdress sits on top of his head, an elegant, clean-cut jade stone decorating it. There’s a fan in his hands. Yue QingYuan doesn’t recognize the pattern. A recent gift, probably.
“Zhangmen-shixiong,” Shen QingQiu greets him. He doesn’t bow, but the tone of his voice is more than enough to relay his respect. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Behind Shen QingQiu, crouching over a multitude of paper sheets smudged with black ink, is Luo BingHe. His eyes are fixed on Yue QingYuan. They’re not exactly cold, but not welcoming either. The look of someone who’s thinking you shouldn’t be here. It makes him realize: this is that Luo BingHe.
Yue QingYuan still remembers the shock he felt the first time he saw both Luo BingHe standing side by side. He remembers Liu QingGe urging him to take action, to take the impostor down before more harm could be done. He remembers his own fear locking him in place, unable to properly face the man that defeated Liu QingGe every day for five years. Not as one, but as two.
None of them could compare to seeing Shen QingQiu, his beloved shidi, standing in front of them, putting his life and honor on the line for their safety. Yue QingYuan blames his weak heart for not being able to resist Shen QingQiu’s pleas and allowing this other BingHe to come and go as he wishes.
“I just wished to see you, shidi,” he says honestly. Luo BingHe’s eyes narrow threateningly. “Our friends from Tian Yi Monastery sent a new blend of tea as a gift. I wondered if you wanted to share.”
Shen QingQiu blinks. “That’s really kind of you, but I already had my morning tea and I’m afraid I’ll spend the afternoon filling reports. Maybe another day?”
Yue QingYuan forces himself not to bit his lower lip. He nods slowly, fixing the smile on his face. “Of course, shidi. I hope your day goes smoothly.”
“Thank you.” Lines appear on the corner of his eyes when he smiles at Yue QingYuan. Yue QingYuan can’t help but feel stupefied. He didn’t realize his shidi had crow’s feet. He didn’t realize that smiles became a part of his daily life to this extent. And, above everything, he realizes he will never be the reason behind those smiles.
“Shizun can still be cruel, I see,” Luo Bing-ge comments with clear amusement in his voice. His hair is now pulled up in a ponytail, a braid on each side. The incontestable display of Shen QingQiu’s crafty handiwork and sheer stubbornness. He almost pities the disciples fretting over the written test in front of them. “I thought you’d be softer on this part too.”
Shen QingQiu gives him a look. He decided the day was good enough for an outdoors exam and therefore he and Bing-ge are sitting on an elevated hill, far enough for their chatter not to disturb the disciples yet close enough to catch any cheater.
“This is me being soft on them. It’s far better than running twenty laps on the mountain.” He huffs.
Luo Bing-ge arches an eyebrow. The action is painfully familiar to Shen QingQiu. “Laps? That’s what you consider harsh?” Despite the teasing tone, there’s a hint of disbelief in his voice.
“As a punishment? Yes.” Shen QingQiu gives him another look. “What else would I do? Send them to kneel? I don’t like it. Make them do extra chores? I don’t want them to think helping is a punishment...”
“And no beatings?”
“The thing that made you kill the other Shen QingQiu? Sorry, I’m not stupid,” he scoffs, then adds: “Besides, it doesn’t teach anything, only generates resentment and pain. I refuse to do it.”
Luo Bing-ge doesn’t try to hide his smile. He’d beg to differ that Shizun is a bit stupid, yes, but for a completely different reason. He’s kind. Far too kind for this world of theirs. It’ll kill one day—already killed him twice, but at the same time it changed everything, for BingHe and everyone else. Kindness had been young Bing-ge’s curse; kindness is the blessing that gave this Shizun his happy ending.
Happy ending, huh?
“I still don’t understand you,” he says honestly. Shen QingQiu hums in encouragement, waiting for his next words. Bing-ge takes in a deeper breath. “If you know I killed you in that world... And hurt you there, too... Why would you still want me here?”
Silence is all that meets his words. Luo Bing-ge purses his lips. Right. He should’ve expected it. He already knew from Shen QingQiu’s memories and Luo BingHe’s words that he’s not one to speak much of his own feelings, just as they don’t know, maybe will never know, the origins of this kinder soul.
He exhales lightly. His eyes narrow at one of the disciples who’s very, very carefully peering at his shixiong’s test. He’s ready to point it out to Shen QingQiu when the man speaks in a small voice, “Because I couldn’t go with you.”
Luo Bing-ge blinks, eyes wide in surprise. Shen QingQiu isn’t looking at him. His eyes are downcast. His fan is closed between his fingers. His lips—and Bing-ge has to avert his gaze quickly before he wants—curve into a small, sad smile.
“That wasn’t a request,” he says. On that day, he just... “It was just the heat of battle.”
“Was it, really?” Shen QingQiu’s voice sounds oddly like that of a big brother trying to bring his little sibling out of their shell. He huffs. “Maybe you’re right. We all say things we don’t mean to when under stress. And that was your first defeat in centuries, was it not?”
Luo Bing-ge’s lips curl downwards in displeasure. Scrap everything he thought. Shen QingQiu isn’t kind nor gentle nor anything! Just a little green gremlin without any sense of self-preservation, that’s all.
Shen QingQiu taps the tip of his fan against his lips. His smile looks a little more mischievous now. “But you know what, Bing-ge? Just because you don’t mean to say something it doesn’t make your words any less true.”
He really doesn’t have any argument against that. Even if he had... Bing-ge realizes he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to hide, nor lie to the man in front of him. He bites the corner of his lower lip. Is it his imagination or did Shizun just gulp? “It still doesn’t make much sense, though. You couldn’t go, so instead you bring me?”
“Yes? Isn’t that the easiest way?” Shen QingQiu tilts his head again. Bing-ge wonders if he even notices he’s doing it again. For some reason, Luo Bing-ge finds it cute. “Besides, I’d much rather live in a world where my peak is still intact, thank you very much.”
Something falls. They both turn back to the disciples. The boy who was spying on his shixiong’s answers apparently leaned a little too much and lost his balance. He now stares at them, eyes wide in terror and face purple. Absolutely caught.
Shen QingQiu sighs. He raises a finger. The disciple’s test flies right into his grasp. His voice resounds clear across the clearing, “You’re dismissed for today. Remember to study twice as hard for the recovery exam.” Luo Bing-ge raises an eyebrow at that. Shen QingQiu explains calmly, “For those who miss the first chance for whatever reason, I give a second test on a separate day. The level of difficulty varies depending on the reason they’re taking it. It was supposed to suppress the cheaters but, ah, new disciples are always harder to discipline.”
“You... Really like teaching, don’t you?” Luo Bing-ge noticed it earlier, when Shen QingQiu explained everything about tea leaves and palm reading and the cosmos itself. There was a distinctive glint in his eyes that betrayed how much he was enjoying himself. It was surprising, in a way, and utterly heartwarming.
Luo Bing-ge can’t remember the last time someone smiled like that in his presence. Not so free, not so real, so...
He swallows. Shen QingQiu nods slightly, his cheeks colored pink. He parts his lips, completely oblivious to Luo Bing-ge’s thoughts, “I think it’s all about being part of someone’s life... And helping them learn and grow. Make sure they’re better people. It makes me happy. But also... I want to think they’ll never forget me.”
It’s impossible to forget you. The thought flashes in Bing-ge’s mind before he can properly register his feelings towards Shen QingQiu’s words. He swallows again. Shen QingQiu still isn’t looking at him. Perhaps he doesn’t expect an answer. Luo Bing-ge isn’t sure he can give one, either, not without exposing his deepest thoughts and desires.
“I’ll go back first,” he says instead, and can only hope his voice sounded normal enough not to arise questions.
Shen QingQiu looks... Disappointed? Luo Bing-ge isn’t sure. He’s not as good at reading Shizun as BingHe is. “Okay...”
Oh, shit. Bing-ge clears his throat. “It’s almost lunchtime. Shizun must be getting hungry by now, right?”
“Oh.” Shen QingQiu blinks. And beams. “You’re cooking for me today?”
Luo Bing-ge doesn’t point out that he did for almost a month now. Surely, he only ever assisted BingHe in his kitchen endeavors, but it was still his cooking that Shen QingQiu ate these days. Instead, he nods. “Is there anything you wish to eat?”
“Something I want... I don’t know. Oh, wait. That ink snow-frosted pork rib soup!” The ink snow frost is a specialty of the demon realm, a special power with the same texture as snow, with the same color ink. Its taste was surprisingly sweet, and went particularly well with meat-heavy soups, for it enhanced the meat’s taste. Luo Bing-ge discovered that recipe a couple decades ago, yet never made it to any of his wives. It just didn’t feel right. Something so special... Should only be shared with someone special, right? Shen QingQiu lets out a soft oh. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable! And—I don’t even know if we have the ingredients and...”
“I’ll make it,” Bing-ge interrupts him. He doesn’t look at Shen QingQiu’s eyes. “For Shizun... I’ll make it.”
“This is delicious, Bing-ge.”
Though Shen QingQiu still looks as regal and composed as ever, and his voice low and polite, his eyes betray the almost childish excitement burning inside him. He stares at bowl of soup lovingly, not any different from one admiring their beloved. His lips are smeared red, a product of the broth he just sipped from.
Luo Bing-ge leans over the table, watching Shizun eating his—only his!—food with delight. He refuses to think too much of what this sight does to him, nor why his heart beats so fast without his consent.
“I’m glad Shizun likes it.” Surprisingly, he really is. Shen QingQiu smiles back at him. Bing-ge’s gaze falls to the man’s lips once again. “I suppose he never made it to you before.”
Shen QingQiu swallows the soup in his mouth before answering. “BingHe’s and MoBei-Jun’s clans are still at odds with the Western clan, so they don’t have access to any of their goods yet.” He picks another piece of meat and chews it down before adding, “I’m more impressed you had it at all.”
Bing-ge taps at the small bag on the left side of his belt. It’s small and discreet enough not to ruin his aesthetic. “A gift from one of MoBei’s relatives. It can carry quite a lot of things despite the size. Really convenient.”
“Oh,” Shen QingQiu is now looking at the pouch curiously, “what else do you carry there?”
“The usual. Medicine, bandages, spices, lube—” There’s a gasp and a small, choked sound. Luo Bing-ge looks at the bright red Shizun with amusement clear in his eyes. “What? Don’t tell me you’re shy.”
“I, no! I mean, you, ah—” Oh, no, he’s really cute. Luo Bing-ge really wants to kiss him now. Shen QingQiu pouts. “Stop teasing me.”
Bing-ge can’t help but think it’s easier said than done when Shen QingQiu is so easily flustered. However, a knock on the door catches his attention. His eyes narrow at the door. Whoever dares interrupt his fun... Well, Bing-ge will make sure they’ll remember what it means to anger a demon king for a good time to come.
He raises his hand to stop Shen QingQiu from moving. “Shizun should enjoy his meal peacefully,” he says as he stands up.
He opens the door. Just as he thought and Luo BingHe warned him, Liu QingGe stands on the other side. The man’s face grows immeasurably darker at the sight of him. Luo Bing-ge raises an eyebrow. This man comes to their door and has the audacity of being mad when the one to receive him isn’t Shizun? He really can understand why BingHe dislikes him so much now.
Liu QingGe scoffs and walks past Bing-ge, his shoulder hitting Bing-ge’s hard. Before he can reach Shen QingQiu’s room, however, Bing-ge is already walking ahead of him, his face not betraying a hint of effort in outspeeding Liu QingGe. Bing-ge initially considered returning to his original spot but now, seeing Shen QingQiu look up at him with quizzical eyes and lips even redder than before, he changes his mind.
Liu QingGe’s voice is barely a groan. “You...!”
“Me?” Luo Bing-ge smirks at him. He rests his face against Shen QingQiu’s shoulder, his hands sneaking around his Shizun’s hips. He can feel Shen QingQiu’s warmth against him, hear the way his breath catches and his increasingly fast heartbeats. A certain sense of satisfaction blooms within Luo Bing-ge’s heart. So Shizun isn’t entirely unaffected by him... “Am I doing something wrong? Can’t I even hold my husband in my own house?”
Seeing Liu QingGe’s face turn paler and then purple, Shen QingQiu waves a hand between the two of them. “Shidi, please don’t make that face. And you, stop messing with your shishu. I taught you better than that.”
Oh. So Shizun is willing to play with him? Luo Bing-ge wishes the realization didn’t make him feel so... happy. “Sorry, Shizun.” He’s not sorry at all. “I was wrong.” Was he really?
Shen QingQiu exhales lightly. He reaches to pat Bing-ge’s head—oh, the head pats really feel nice—and relaxes further into Bing-ge’s hold. He shifts his hips slightly so that the jewelry on Bing-ge’s sash isn't poking into his skin anymore. Then, he turns back to Liu QingGe, “So, what matters bring shidi here?”
Liu QingGe looks somewhere between a mad fit and absolute heart break. Luo Bing-ge almost feels sorry for him. Almost. He really can’t spare any feelings or thoughts to this ‘shishu’ of his when Shen QingQiu feels so small and comfortable in his arms. The sensation is almost maddening.
“Are you really going to waste your day with that—”
“Of course I’ll spend my day with him. And I’m very happy doing so.” Is it Bing-ge’s ears or did Shen QingQiu’s voice grow a tad bit harsher? A shiver runs down his body at the change in tone. Shen QingQiu lets out an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, first Zhangmen-shixiong, now you... what’s with all of you today?”
There’s a pause. Liu QingGe stubbornly averts his gaze, his voice unnecessarily harsh. “Well, maybe we just want you to actually enjoy your birthday with normal people.”
Shen QingQiu blinks. Luo Bing-ge is equally surprised. Shizun’s birthday? Today? He never knew when the other Shen QingQiu was born, and he didn’t spend long enough in this world to actually wonder about it. But something simply doesn’t add up—would Luo BingHe really leave Shizun alone on his birthday? Bing-ge doesn’t think so. Shizun’s reaction, too, makes he think he’s completely detached from the date.
The now empty bowl of soup meets the table with a loud thud. “Here’s what I’ll say: who are you to say who is and is not normal? Last time I checked the only really normal cultivator around was GongYi Xiao and he’s dead now. Second, so what if I want to spend this day with my husband? It’s what makes me happy and you should respect that. If it really bothers you so much, please do tell and we’ll leave right away.”
This kind of answer definitely isn’t what Liu QingGe expected. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. He glares at Luo Bing-ge. He points at the door, “Outside, now,” and stomps out.
Luo Bing-ge glances at Shen QingQiu, silently asking for the man’s approval. Shen QingQiu sighs. “Mu-shidi will cry if he gets too hurt.” Do as you wish, but don’t hurt too much, the words go unsaid.
Having received permission, Luo Bing-ge nods. Shen QingQiu smiles faintly, and once again Luo Bing-ge’s attention falls to those red lips. Unable to control his urge any more, he presses his thumb against Shen QingQiu’s reddened lips, gently wiping the broth away. Shizun’s breath is warm against his skin, and his lips soft against his fingertips. Luo Bing-ge recalls the first time he came to this world, how good it felt to have those lips under his own.
He wants it again.
He stands up and walks towards the door. In his mind, he’s already conjuring a hundred ways to mess with Liu QingGe when he hears Shen QingQiu’s call.
“Bing-ge?” Shizun’s voice sounds a little shaky. Luo Bing-ge turns around to face him. Shizun looks small, so small Luo Bing-ge wants to hug him again and never let go. This thought, the unrestrained longing behind it makes him feel naked in front of those pitch-black eyes. “Don’t get hurt.”
Luo Bing-ge smirks with the confidence only a centuries old emperor can muster. “As Shizun wishes.”
“I told you not to go too harsh on him,” Shen QingQiu admonishes gently. He’s sitting on his study table, correcting the tests from today’s morning. The reports lie in another neatly ordered pile to his left. They’re filled with an elegant calligraphy Shen QingQiu came to appreciate over the last weeks.
Luo Bing-ge shrugs from where’s leaning against the bed. “I didn’t get hurt. I thought that was Shizun’s priority, too.”
Touché. Shen QingQiu really cannot deny that. May Liu-shidi forgive him one day, but between him and Luo BingHe—any of the two Luo BingHe—he would always take Luo BingHe first. It’s just how he is, how deep his love runs.
He smiles lightly. “You’re the worse, you know that, right?”
“You brought me here. Deal with it.” Oh. Snarky brat. Shen QingQiu shakes his head fondly. “Aren’t you done yet? I even did the other half for you.”
“And I thank you a lot for your help,” Shen QingQiu replies easily. He’s almost done, now. Only three more to go and he’ll have finished everything. He glances over his shoulder at Bing-ge, “I didn’t expect you to start that kind of play, though. I was surprised.”
He still can’t quite push the way Luo Bing-ge felt against him out of his mind. One would think it was no different from his BingHe, for they were the same people, but Shen QingQiu knows in his heart they couldn’t be more different. BingHe’s hold was one filled with protectiveness and a deep sense of yearning, the kind that can only be born from the fear of abandonment. Bing-ge’s hold, however, was steady yet tentative, a promise of safety and protection. Shen QingQiu can’t help but feel thrilled at the prospect of feeling it again, of discovering how his touch will evolve and differ from the him of now and from BingHe’s.
It’s an exhilarating thought.
Luo Bing-ge pauses at his words. His voice sounds distant and uncertain, “Is that all that was for you?”
No. It was way more than just a play for Shen QingQiu. He puts his brush down and turns around to face Bing-ge properly. “And what was it for you?”
Shen QingQiu had hopes when he asked BingHe if it was possible, if Luo Bing-ge could return to their world once more. The love he had for his husband, he wanted to share it with Bing-ge too. And as the days progressed and Bing-ge grew into their daily lives, the lingering fear Shen QingQiu still felt of him disappeared, and his desire to be more also grew more and more.
He wants Bing-ge to look at him the way BingHe does, to touch him, kiss him, take him just as his husband does. He wants Bing-ge to love him. He wants it so much his heart aches.
But Shen QingQiu was aware from the start that it may have been a lost cause, that Luo Bing-ge may never develop such feelings for him, who wore the face of his past abuser. And yet, he clung to that thin thread of hope that Luo Bing-ge’s last words became.
Bing-ge stares at him intently. The weight of his gaze makes something inside of Shen QingQiu warm up. Finally, “If I said I want you, what would you do?”
Shen QingQiu’s breath catches on his throat. His hands tremble under his sleeves. He bites his lip and forces himself not to stutter. “Then I’d give you all I am.”
One moment, Luo Bing-ge is leaning against Shen QingQiu’s bed. The next, he’s hovering over Shen QingQiu. The the ink spills over the table in an all-consuming, pitch-black mess. It sticks to Shen QingQiu’s hair and stains the edges of his robes. His eyes wide and lips parted, he’s convinced he must look like an absolute mess.
Luo Bing-ge couldn’t see it more differently. Shen QingQiu lays underneath him, open and vulnerable, without any intention to pull him away. Shen QingQiu is the embodiment of temptation, and Luo Bing-ge has long since grown tired of his pretense of resistance. His eyes flutter close and he leans down.
Luo Bing-ge is the emperor of two worlds. He had countless wives with vastly different personalities yet one common goal: please him, however that may be. He’s not one to hold back. He’s not a gentle lover. He’s a selfish, arrogant man who takes and takes and lets everything to rot when they’re no longer useful to him.
But now—now his lips move lightly against Shizun’s, careful not to let his fangs cut skin. His hands find home on Shen QingQiu’s hips, gently pulling him closer and pressing their bodies together. Slow, so slow it would’ve driven him insane if it were anyone else. Too slow to even be considered an strategic move.
Because it isn’t, a small, annoying voice speaks in the back of his mind, it’s all because...
A hand sneaks around his neck. Those long, delicate fingers, the way their nails scratch against his skin—Luo Bing-ge shivers. Shizun’s other hand clutches the front of Bing-ge’s robes. He doesn’t pull him closer, nor push him away. It’s just there, keeping him in place. His hold is shaky even through the layers of clothes keeping him from touching Bing-ge’s skin directly.
Oh. He wants this so badly. Bing-ge bites on Shen QingQiu’s lower lip, and sighs in contentment when the man parts his lips obediently. He licks Shizun’s lips, and deepens the kiss. Shen QingQiu gasps lightly against his lips. His tongue tentatively touches Bing-ge’s. It reminds Luo Bing-ge of all the wives whose first kiss he stole. The uncertainty, the shy desire, the inexperience—he can feel all of them coming from Shen QingQiu now. The only difference, he knows Shen QingQiu is far from inexperienced, even if his counterpart isn’t a prodigy at these matters. In a weird, completely new way, it makes something soften in Luo Bing-ge’s heart.
It’s because it’s him. For Shen QingQiu, this is no different from a first time because it is. It’s the first time he kisses this Bing-ge while knowing exactly who he is, knowing that he is who Bing-ge wants, that his feelings are reciprocated.
That unbridled exhilaration, Bing-ge feels it too, deep inside his heart. It’s this feeling that makes his hands slip Shen QingQiu’s upper robes open layer by layer, that drives small, pleased grunts out of his mouth.
He parts the kiss. Shen QingQiu’s eyes are still closed, his lips parted as he desperately seeks for air. His chest rapidly rises and falls and his lower body’s starting to react against Bing-ge. Luo Bing-ge gently brushes Shen QingQiu’s hair away from his face. His Shizun’s dark eyes finally open. His eyelashes cast a gentle shadow over his cheek and make his gaze look even more hazy. His lips glisten with saliva—his, and Bing-ge’s—and red blooms across his face and neck.
He’s so, so beautiful it makes something in Bing-ge snap.
He dives for Shen QingQiu’s neck. He litters his skin with kisses, hickeys and lovebites. Bing-ge doesn’t take breaks for breath. He doesn’t need it, not really, not when everything he wants is already within his arms.
Shen QingQiu gasps and squirms softly under him. It would be endearing, if his movements didn’t make their erections press together. Bing-ge is almost tempted to hold him down and make him stop, but another, bigger part of him wants so see it, to see how Shizun is when pleasure strikes him. He bites down on Shen QingQiu’s collarbone hard enough to bruise, hard enough to make him keen. Luo Bing-ge smiles at Shen QingQiu’s mortified face.
He pouts and looks away. “... Why do you two like teasing me so much...?” His voice is low enough no other human would be able to hear, but Bing-ge isn’t human. At least, not entirely.
He chuckles, and kisses the spot he just bit in a silent apology. He then moves back up Shen QingQiu’s neck, only stopping when his lips brush against the shell of his ear. “Maybe it’s because you’re adorable,” he whispers before licking Shen QingQiu’s lobe.
An indignant gasp that borders on a moan is all the answer he gets. Luo Bing-ge grins. He kisses Shen QingQiu’s jaw, his cheek, the corner of his lips... “I told you. You’ll have to deal with it, Shizun.” He drags out the last word, savoring the title the same way he plans to savor the man underneath him. Shen QingQiu shudders. He refuses to look at Bing-ge.
“The papers... They’ll get ruined like this,” he murmurs.
Indeed, the ink stain is slow, but steadily spreading out towards both piles of tests and reports. Luo Bing-ge flicks his writs, and they’re all sent flying. Shen QingQiu blinks at the slowly falling sheets before a disbelieving chuckle escapes him. “You’re really...”
Bing-ge will never know what his next words would be, for their mouths are connected once more. He uses both hands to maneuver Shen QingQiu into a sitting position. The half-open robes slid off his shoulders with the movement and pool around his elbows.
Luo Bing-ge lets his gaze fall to the expanse of pale skin, watches with fascination the way Shen QingQiu’s lean muscles contract under his fingertips. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful, and with each portion of his skin Bing-ge unveils, the more beautiful he gets. This feeling is almost maddening in its addiction.
He lowers himself back to his knees and presses lips against Shen QingQiu’s chest, right over his heart. His heart, that kept beating for Luo BingHe for years now; his heart, that also beats for Luo Bing-ge now. His lips only leave that spot to reach for something a little more down.
“Ngh!” Shen QingQiu immediately covers his lip to muffle the sudden, surprisingly loud moan.
His other hand reaches for Bing-ge’s hair. The gentle pressure of his fingers along with the knowledge that the intricate hairdo Shizun made for him earlier is most likely ruined by now only spurs Bing-ge further. He sucks on the dark nib harder, rolls it with his tongue and scrapes the tip of his fang against it. It’s light enough not to hurt, but real enough Shen QingQiu’s fingers twist in his hair.
Luo Bing-ge is half-tempted to play with the other nipple with his fingers, but decides it better not. Instead, he works on removing Shen QingQiu’s sash. It falls to the floor with a muffled thud from the attached jade piece. He pulls Shizun’s pants down next. His penis jumps out of the constraint of his clothes, already fully hard and reddened. Luo Bing-ge parts from the nipple to stare at it. Shen QingQiu isn’t big my any means, but, hell, is he perfect. How could anyone resist him?
He thinks of Sect Leader Yue, who left with dejection clear on his face after Shen QingQiu’s polite refusal. Of Liu QingGe, who refused to buck and give in despite the glaring difference in their powers, all for the sake of a foolish hope. He thinks of the countless men and women Luo BingHe told him about, all of which desperately yearned for Shen QingQiu’s lovely gaze. He smiles around Shen QingQiu’s perk nipple.
The answer is clear enough: no one. No one can resist this man. No one is immune to the perfection that’s Shen QingQiu.
“Bing-ge,” he calls out breathlessly. His hazy eyes watch Luo Bing-ge descend further, his lips scattering more marks along his torso. None of them cover the ones previously left by Luo BingHe. Instead, they cover where BingHe couldn’t mark, an addition rather than a disruption. “What are you...?”
Luo Bing-ge lets a long, gentle kiss on the junction of Shen QingQiu’s hip and thigh. He can see the mark of fingers along the lines of his hips. Too rough, that other him was. Luo Bing-ge really wants to know what it’d feel like to be inside Shen QingQiu, if that pleasure will also drive him mad and leave seemingly permanent marks on Shen QingQiu’s body.
He closes his eyes. His lips part slowly. A sharp, startled scream leaves Shen QingQiu’s mouth. Luo Bing-ge would have smiled if his lips weren’t as stretched as they are. Now, there’s no denying what they’re up to in this idle bamboo house. Any disciple roaming around would know... And Luo Bing-ge really wishes someone will hear, that they know for sure that Shen QingQiu belongs to him, to them.
Bing-ge moves his head up and down, sucking and twirling his tongue around Shen QingQiu’s penis in an intermittent pattern. He can taste his precum on his tongue. The taste is different from anything he tasted before, yet it’s far from being a bad thing, especially when he can hear Shizun’s melodious moans and feel the desperation in the way he pulls on Bing-ge’s hair.
Shen QingQiu has all but curled into a ball around Bing-ge now. Trying to stifle his moans against his palm didn’t work, so he started biting his hand instead. That, too, only barely muffles the sounds the escape him. His skin glistens with sweat under the setting sun, painting a particularly awe-inspiring image.
It only makes Luo Bing-ge want more.
He silently reaches for the spatial pouch tied to his sash. It doesn’t take more than a bit of fumbling to find the small pot of lube he keeps inside. Luo Bing-ge opens it with ease and dips his fingers into the slicky liquid. He parts from Shen QingQiu only long enough to speak, “Shizun?”
“W-Wha’ now?” Oh. There are tears in his eyes. All because of Bing-ge, the pleasure he brought to him...
Luo Bing-ge resists the urge to palm his erection through his clothes. It’s so tight it’s almost painful, and yet—His voice sounds hoarser than before. The demonic mark on his forehead burns. “Your legs. Open them for me.”
Shen QingQiu’s breath visibly hitches. He doesn’t answer verbally, instead choosing to spread his legs further apart. There’s no sign of hesitancy in his actions, only a silent trust that shakes Bing-ge to the core. Shizun’s dark eyes fall to Bing-ge’s slicked fingers. “You... Don’t need to go slow... I’m used.”
This makes Bing-ge click his tongue. He buries his teeth on the nearest part of Shen QingQiu he can reach—which ends up being those deliciously supply thighs. Shen QingQiu gasps, but doesn’t argue further as Bing-ge gently starts to massage his entrance. In the back of his mind, he resolves to have a good talk with BingHe about it later. He can excuse that brat’s inexperience and more-than-likely fetishes, but he draws the line at making Shizun feel any pain that’s uncalled for. Of course, if that’s something Shen QingQiu is into he won’t complain. On the contrary, it’d be a very pleasant surprise.
But those are thoughts for later. Luo Bing-ge moves his fingers in and out of Shen QingQiu in a slow rhythm. He realizes the sensation is nothing like lying with a woman; Luo Bing-ge can only rely on the scarce similarities and his own instinct to proceed. He silently curses himself or never even contemplating the thought before only to immediately shut that thought down.
Isn’t this that makes it all the better? Bing-ge can’t remember when the last time he felt underexperienced was. The thrill of trying something, of learning something he never knew before—isn’t it what makes this so special? Just like Shen QingQiu’s touches were still tentative, experimenting, Bing-ge understands, they’re the same.
He curls his fingers inside Shen QingQiu. A sharp intake makes him look up at Shizun. At some point, he fell back on the table. Luo Bing-ge can barely see what expression he’s making, but those wide eyes are far too easy to spot. Before he can fear, Shen QingQiu reaches for him with a shaky hand.
“There,” he mutters, his voice cracking and breaking, barely audible even to Bing-ge’s sensitive ears. “F-Felt good... Again.”
Oh. Luo Bing-ge curls his fingers. This time he can see the effect it has on Shen QingQiu clearly: his tightly shut eyes, the arch of his back, the increasing speed of his breath, they’re all etched into Bing-ge’s memory.
“You’re so beautiful,” the words escape him before he can hold them back, “Shizun, can I take you?”
It’s a silly question to make with his fingers are still inside Shen QingQiu’s body. Luo Bing-ge doesn’t really care if it makes he look stupid, not when Shizun looks at him like that. His lips curl into a smile and he reaches to pat Bing-ge’s head. “Didn’t I tell you already?”
Then I’d give you all I am.
Later, Luo Bing-ge won’t remember taking off his robes, nor coating his erection with lube. He’ll only remember the feeling of Shen QingQiu’s skin against his own, his arms around his neck, their breaths mingling together in the enclosed space created by Bing-ge’s now loose hair. He’ll remember Shen QingQiu’s lips, the taste of his moans as Bing-ge pushes his member inside him. He’ll remember Shen QingQiu, and that’s all that matters.
Luo Bing-ge gasps. Shizun is... tight. So, so fucking tight it takes everything he has to keep some semblance of restraint. He never felt like this, not even with his hundreds of wives... Maybe that’s why. He had hundreds of women, yet only one Shizun. Of course they’d never compare. Of course...
He reaches for Shen QingQiu’s face and gently wipes a tear away. He doesn’t look like he’s pain, just overwhelmed. Bing-ge can’t blame him. No matter how many times he may have done it in the past, it’s just impossible to be unaffected by that massive size. Bing-ge kisses him, his lips, his cheek, his temple, as gentle and caring as he can. “Are you okay?”
Shen QingQiu nods slightly. Really, he is more than okay. He’s happy. And safe. With Bing-ge’s arms around him, keeping him warm and close, Shen QingQiu feels loved. That feeling is so much alike what his BingHe makes him feel yet so completely different at the same time. He assumes it’s because their stories, the way they found their way to each other and to this moment was also completely different.
And yet, Shen QingQiu thinks they’re both equally precious.
“Ah,” Shen QingQiu exhales softly. Bing-ge is all the way inside now. He feels so full, filled to the brim with his—with Bing-ge. It’s almost like he’s finally whole again.
And then Bing-ge is pulling back, and Shen QingQiu’s arms tighten around him in pure reflex. Don’t leave me, he thinks, a tinge of desperation painting his thoughts. Bing-ge kisses his cheek again, running his hand up and down Shen QingQiu’s back in silent reassurance. Shen QingQiu loosens his hold on him slightly.
“It’s okay, Shizun,” Bing-ge all but purrs in his ear. Gentle and slowly, he pushes his cock back into Shen QingQiu. The rocking motion is grounding in a strange way. Shen QingQiu notices he’s really not feeling any pain. And that alone makes him lose his breath. Bing-ge smiles at him. “Shizun,” he calls once, twice, thrice, and Shen QingQiu realizes—it’s not a call, but a prayer.
“Bing-ge,” he answers that prayer with his own. Their voices mingle and rise in volume in time with Luo Bing-ge’s thrusts. He hits that sweet, sweet spot inside him every now and then. A blessing, for Shen QingQiu isn’t sure he’d be able to last much if he aimed specifically for that spot the way BingHe takes pleasure in doing. He wants this to last. He wants more. And maybe, just maybe, being able to acknowledge this deep desire shows how far he’s came over the years.
A particularly deep thrust makes Shen QingQiu shudder. A familiar warmth pools in his gut and overflows, washing over him in the form of tidal waves of pure pleasure. His semen paints his chest and belly white, the undeniable proof of Shen QingQiu’s pleasure.
He reaches for Luo Bing-ge and pulls him into a needy, messy kiss. Just as their tongues meet, something warm fills Shen QingQiu’s insides. Oh, he thinks almost giggly. That, too, is a proof in its own right. Bing-ge wanted him, too. Shen QingQiu collapses under Luo Bing-ge, his breath ragged and body covered in sweat and semen and saliva and more marks than he can care to count.
And he laughs. He laughs, loud and unrestrained, laughs until his lungs burn and tears fill his eyes. Bing-ge laughs with him, perhaps out of incredulity, perhaps out of genuine happiness. Shen QingQiu doesn’t really care. All that matters is...
You’re here.
“Bing-ge?” Shen QingQiu calls out of a sudden. His voice is barely a whisper, but the house is silent enough that Luo Bing-ge, standing a few meters away, can hear it perfectly.
“Yes, Shizun?” He stands up from where he was collecting the scattered papers and putting them back into neat, organized piles.
Shen QingQiu is lying on his bed, only a thin robe covering his body. Bing-ge placed a warming spell on the house earlier—a gift he learned from the lands BingHe is yet to conquer—that allowed him to get more comfortable with himself. The collar is loose enough that Bing-ge can see the bite mark he left on Shen QingQiu’s collarbone. It’s satisfying, in a way, to see the product of Bing-ge’s work.
Shizun pats on the spot next to him. Bing-ge swallows. This is the first time Shen QingQiu invited him to sit on his bed. He sits down slowly, careful not to put too much weight against Shen QingQiu’s body. As soon as he settles down, however, Shen QingQiu leans against him, his head resting cosily against Bing-ge’s shoulder. For some reason he can’t really describe, Bing-ge is sure that he won’t ever be able to forget this moment.
“I was thinking... Ever since you arrived, I kept calling you Bing-ge. I thought it’d make it easier to differentiate you too, and since you’re the older one it made sense. But I just realized that I never asked you about it.” Shen QingQiu reaches for Bing-ge’s hand. Maybe he doesn’t realize it, but the fingers he’s playing with are the same fingers that touched him so intimately before. “Is there anything else you’d rather be called? Or... Can I still think of you as my Bing-ge?”
Luo Bing-ge doesn’t have a fast answer for that. From all things, this is the last one he’d think about. He can’t help but remember the day he came back to this world with BingHe. He remembers how careful Shen QingQiu was while applying medicine to their wounds and the clear annoyance behind his fan smacks. He remembers the first time Shen QingQiu called him Bing-ge and how wrong it felt at first. And yet...
And yet, without him realizing, he, too, started thinking of himself as Bing-ge. Before he understood it, that nickname became a special part of who he is, a reminder that he now has a place he belongs to, with people who’ll await for him.
He smiles. “I’d love to keep being your Bing-ge.”
Shen QingQiu smiles back at him and it’s perhaps the prettiest thing Luo Bing-ge ever saw. He moves until he’s lying down, one of his hands pulling Bing-ge with him. This, too, is new to Luo Bing-ge. The feeling of lying with someone just because, to know it’s his face that Shen QingQiu will see first thing in the morning... It’s priceless.
He thinks he can understand BingHe a little better now. He also would rather stay longer in bed with Shizun if this is what it feels like.
“We should talk to BingHe tomorrow,” Shen QingQiu mutters against Bing-ge’s chest. “He’s terrible organizing weddings. I think it’ll be amazing.”
Bing-ge pauses. “... A wedding?”
“Our wedding, of course.” Shen QingQiu yawns. He’s obviously tired. Maybe that’s why he’s saying these things without batting an eyelash. “I’m not one to fuck around and leave it at that, you know? Only my husbands can have that privilege.”
“Of course,” Luo Bing-ge agrees easily. “As long as I can choose Shizun’s dress.”
“Sure, sure,” Shen QingQiu’s mindlessly agrees. He relaxes against Bing-ge’s body and soon enough his breathing evens out.
Luo Bing-ge sighs fondly. With a gentle flicker of his hand, all lights in the bamboo house go out. He hugs Shen QingQiu closer and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. He closes his eyes and lets sleep claim him too.
Luo BingHe had many questions and doubts when Shizun first brought up the other him three months ago. First and foremost, was he not enough anymore? That question alone brought tears to his eyes and fury to his heart. Fury at himself, at his own utter incompetence.
But Shen QingQiu reassured him with gentle words and careful touches. He told him, “You’re everything I want, the only person I love in this world. That’s why I can’t accept that there’s another you out there still suffering.”
Luo BingHe still didn’t quite understand. He knew, if there was another Shen QingQiu, he’d be incapable of loving him for he’s not his Shizun. But he thought, maybe that’s the difference, that’s why Luo BingHe loves Shizun and no one else: because he’s kind, and he has too much love to give.
He still had his doubts, but Luo BingHe couldn’t really deny his husband’s wishes, not when Shen QingQiu rarely asked for the things he wanted. It didn’t matter that he had to go through hoops and loops to remake XinMo and find his way back to the other dimension—all of it was worth it the moment he returned with Bing-ge and saw the unrestrained joy in Shizun’s eyes.
Bing-ge proved himself to be more trustworthy than BingHe thought him to be, too. He already knew he wouldn’t dare try to hurt Shizun; BingHe wouldn’t hesitate in killing him if he did. But he the subtle changes in Bing-ge over the days. He noticed how he grew more receptive to Shizun’s kindness with time, how he silently grimaced whenever one of the annoying peak lords visited, how he seemed to take offense on Shen QingQiu’s behalf... Really, it was only a matter of time before he fell for Shizun too.
Luo BingHe thought he’d be madder at this fact but, really, he isn’t. Not even as he made up an excuse to leave for the day and let the way open for Bing-ge, he didn’t feel the jealousy he became so familiar with. He only felt a strange sense of happiness for Shizun and rather proud of Bing-ge for coming so far.
He smiles when he steps into their room. Shizun’s still asleep, comfortably tucked in Bing-ge’s arms. He looks small and vulnerable against Bing-ge. BingHe can’t help but wonder if this is what Shen QingQiu looks like when he’s with him. If he always looks this content and happy and safe—the mere thought of it makes his love for this man grow tenfold.
“How was MoBei?” Bing-ge’s voice sounds hoarse with sleep, yet his eyes are sharp on BingHe. MoBei? Luo BingHe frowns. It’s only when Bing-ge smirks that he realizes. Asshole. “Who would’ve thought lil’ Bing-mei was a liar?”
Luo BingHe huffs. He takes off the outer layers of his robes before crawling into bed too. He puts his hand on Shizun’s hip, which incidentally makes his and Bing-ge’s hands touch as well. It’s... Not bad. BingHe can definitely get used to it. He’ll probably have to figure out a good way to wipe off that annoying smirk off Bing-ge’s face, though. And the only way he can think of is... Definitely not platonic.
“It was for the greater good.” The greater good meaning Shizun’s happiness. Bing-ge seems to understand this rather well, for his smile softens. “Shizun really wanted you to be here.”
A soft inhale, a small, complicated smile. “He’s too kind for his own good.”
“He really is.”
“No wonder you need help to look after him.”
“I’m afraid even two of us won’t be enough.”
Silence. Two identical, equally pondering gazes fall on the sleeping Shizun, who unconsciously shifted as soon as BingHe joined them. With a hand still grasping Bing-ge’s robes and the other reaching for BingHe’s arm, he falls quiet again. Two pairs of crimson eyes narrow.
Bing-ge’s voice is resolute. “Two will have to do.”
“No more BingHes.”
“We could take turns?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Shizun said he wants a wedding.”
“We sure can can do that.”
“I’m picking his dress, though.”
“Wait, he actually agreed to using a dress?!”
“You’d be surprised how much you can get from him if you ask when he’s sleepy.”
“You’re the devil.”
“I’m you, you idiot.”
“Now you’re wrong.” BingHe sticks his tongue out. “If we really were the same, then you’d have no reason to be here.”
Their gazes fall one more on their sleeping Shizun. Unbeknownst to them, the thoughts and feelings they have at that moment are indeed the same. At least in their love, they are one.
It probably won’t be easy. The world certainly won’t let them in peace so easily, but it’s alright. As long as they’re together, they’ll make sure their little rule of three works. All for this one man, all for the sake of his smile—
They each kiss one side of Shen QingQiu’s head, the touch light and gentle enough not to awake him. They close their eyes, ready to return to whatever dream welcomes them. If only they kept their eyes open a moment longer, they’d see the way Shizun’s lips curled upwards. If only.
—Everything, it’s all for you, Shizun.