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It takes Shen Qingqiu nearly a year to realize it.
In his defense, it had been a very busy year! Ever since their impromptu wedding in the bamboo house, Luo Binghe had doubled - no, tripled down on his general fussiness. Shen Qingqiu was taken to restorative springs and given countless cultivation treasures acquired by Luo Binghe or his subordinates, not to mention the constant snacks and heavenly meals he was plied with…
Okay, perhaps the past year hadn’t been all that busy for Shen Qingqiu himself, given how much he’d been pampered by a certain sticky disciple of his. But his mind had been busy, okay! It’s a lot of work to be married to Luo Binghe, you know!! One person can only handle so much close proximity to a pretty man like that and not spend a good chunk of everyday thinking about him!!
Regardless, nearly a year passes in relative marital bliss before Shen Qingqiu realizes it: somehow, he is not the wife in this relationship.
Which makes!! No sense!! Sure, Luo Binghe calls him ‘husband,’ and cooks and cleans and dotes on Shen Qingqiu and certainly looks pretty enough to be a wife, but - well, that is - bedroom activities are supposed to be the real indicator of these things, aren’t they?!
(“Oh, bro,” Shang Qinghua laughs, when Shen Qingqiu goes to whine to him about his recent revelation. “I’m going to have to find you some better porn if that’s what you think.”
“Given your track record I wouldn’t dare touch anything you think is a decent yellow book,” Shen Qingqiu spits back, and Shang Qinghua only laughs harder.)
But… if Luo Binghe takes care of him like a wife, and - and he had said it, back when they’d gotten married, hadn’t he? That he’d willingly marry Shen Qingqiu, if Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t marry him. They’d never really clarified it - Shen Qingqiu’s face isn’t nearly thick enough to have an actual conversation about their marriage, thank you - so perhaps Luo Binghe… really had become Shen Qingqiu’s wife, that day?
The thought makes him flush scarlet.
Well, if - if that’s true, Shen Qingqiu has to - he has to take responsibility!
It takes him three whole days to work up the nerve, but on the evening of the third day after this (frankly earth shattering) revelation, Shen Qingqiu clears his throat to catch Luo Binghe’s attention. Luo Binghe looks back at him over his shoulder from where he’d been putting away the remains of their dinner, already smiling just to be looking at him, and Shen Qingqiu ducks his head to stare at his tea, resting on the table in front of him.
Shen Qingqiu clears his throat again, this time feeling a bit more strangled. He can do this! He can… he can just -!
“Wife,” Shen Qingqiu manages to call softly, and then promptly loses the nerve to say absolutely anything else.
Luo Binghe makes a small, shocked noise in the back of his throat and promptly drops what he’d been holding. Shen Qingqiu chances a glance up at him; his face has gone almost as pink as Shen Qingqiu assumes his own is, and the grin he’s broken out into is some cross between maidenly embarrassment and absolutely feral.
“What was that, husband?” Luo Binghe calls sweetly, like the absolute devil he is. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”
Shen Qingqiu shoots him a disgruntled glare. They both know quite well how easily Luo Binghe had heard Shen Qingqiu, with all his senses enhanced from both his cultivation and demonic heritage.
Luo Binghe, only laughing under Shen Qingqiu’s glare, carefully resettles whatever it had been that he’d dropped before coming over to sit by Shen Qingqiu’s side. He leans into him, a careful press of his weight against the line of Shen Qingqiu’s body, angling himself so he can peer up at Shen Qingqiu through his lashes despite being the taller of the two of them.
It is, unfortunately, a look that Luo Binghe knows damn well has gotten him a fair number of things he’s begged sweetly for.
“Husband,” Luo Binghe calls again, still flushed pink and pleased with it, “This Binghe of yours has come close, now, so you can just say it quietly and I’ll still hear.”
“You heard before,” Shen Qingqiu grumbles, but Luo Binghe only looks at him, waiting for him to cave.
Fuck. Shit. How is Shen Qingqiu supposed to stay strong, when someone like Luo Binghe is looking at him like that!!
He glances away, feeling his face grow even warmer. He wishes very, very badly he hadn’t left his fan in the other room.
“...Wife,” he finally manages to get out, and Luo Binghe all but preens up against him.
“Husband!” Luo Binghe chirps back, looking at Shen Qingqiu with stars in his eyes when Shen Qingqiu risks a glance at him. “Husband, please forgive this hard of hearing fool, but perhaps you could repeat it just once more -”
Shen Qingqiu cuffs him over the head, huffing and turning away once more. Luo Binghe laughs again, sitting up straight so he can wrap his arms around Shen Qingqiu’s waist and drag him into his lap.
Shen Qingqiu, against his better judgment, goes willingly. Damn the sticky thing that marriage has turned him into, ah -!
“Husband doesn’t have to,” Luo Binghe says, lips pressed into the side of Shen Qingqiu’s head and laughter still clear in his tone. “Your wife is just teasing you.”
Somehow, he hadn’t managed to get as far as imagining Luo Binghe calling himself ‘wife.’ It makes Shen Qingqiu squirm with embarrassment, but Luo Binghe holds him close.
“What brought this on?” Luo Binghe asks, after Shen Qingqiu has had enough time to settle back into himself somewhat.
Shen Qingqiu tenses up, just slightly. “If you didn’t like it I won’t -”
“If I could be called Shizun’s wife every day for the rest of my life I would be quite happy,” Luo Binghe interrupts, his grip squeezing tight for a moment to pull Shen Qingqiu out of the panicked spiral he’d been about to nosedive right into. “But it’s rare for Shizun to do this sort of thing on his own.”
Shen Qingqiu frowns, pinching meanly at Luo Binghe’s side. Luo Binghe snorts, then corrects himself:
“It’s rare for Husband to do this sort of thing on his own.”
“Better,” Shen Qingqiu grumbles, and then clams up again right after. Ah, why is it so much easier to scold his husband into affection than it is to just open his mouth and say even a single word back!!
Luo Binghe shifts his grip on him to move one hand up and down the length of his back, soothing. “Husband doesn’t have to say. I’m happy regardless of the reason.”
Shen Qingqiu frowns harder. He… really hates it when Luo Binghe says things like that. Luo Binghe is so good, he shouldn’t have to be happy with scraps.
“It’s how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?” Shen Qingqiu manages to get out, smushing his face into Luo Binghe’s shoulder to muffle the words. “If I’m the husband, and we’re married, you’re - that is, Binghe is, ah -”
“This Binghe is your wife,” Luo Binghe finishes for him, sounding far too amused for Shen Qingqiu’s liking. He muffles an irritated curse into Luo Binghe’s robes.
Luo Binghe, the monster, just nuzzles gently into Shen Qingqiu’s hair, sweet as anything. Cruel and unusual punishment, that’s what it’s like to be married to Luo Binghe - absolute cruelty, because there is no way someone could survive the happy, squishy feelings that Luo Binghe’s affection inspires.
“It can be that way, if you’d like.”
Shen Qingqiu blinks, confused at the seemingly nonsequitur.
“Husband said it’s ‘supposed’ to be this way,” Luo Binghe clarifies, “And it can be, if you’d like. This wife of yours certainly likes it.”
Shen Qingqiu pinches him again for the pure smugness radiating off of Luo Binghe in that last sentence, but otherwise falls quiet again for a moment, thinking.
“...What other ways can it be?”
Luo Binghe hums, the feeling of it vibrating through Shen Qingqiu’s skull pleasantly.
“We can both be husbands.” Shen Qingqiu pulls back slightly to look up at Luo Binghe, unsure, and Luo Binghe’s expression turns a bit teasing. “Or we can both be wives -”
Shen Qingqiu reaches up to whack him upside the head again, despite the laughter it encourages.
(Maybe because of it. He’s found, unfortunately, that he is hopelessly weak to the sound of Luo Binghe’s happiness.)
“Call me a wife again and you’re sleeping in the side room for a week,” he grumbles, and Luo Binghe hums again, pulling Shen Qingqiu back in close. Luo Binghe has gotten very good at coaxing Shen Qingqiu through these sorts of emotionally demanding conversations ever since he realized how pliant Shen Qingqiu goes when he can just curl up against him. Damn.
“Husband it is, then,” Luo Binghe agrees easily, and Shen Qingqiu relaxes, just a bit. “And Husband is okay calling his Binghe ‘wife’?”
Shen Qingqiu squirms again, just a bit. It isn’t like the idea of calling Luo Binghe ‘husband’ isn’t embarrassing, so it’s… probably no difference between ‘husband’ or ‘wife.’ Still…
“We are both men,” Shen Qingqiu starts hesitantly, despite how hard it is sometimes to say that out loud. We are both men, both in a homosexual relationship, both - He cuts the train of thought off. It’s - he does love Luo Binghe. Even if it’s embarrassing, he loves him, and they are both men. Those are just facts. Shen Qingqiu can be perfectly normal about facts. “We’re both men, so if we really can both be ‘husband,’ then…”
“That’s fine too,” Luo Binghe allows, just as easy as always, even though he’d clearly been thrilled when Shen Qingqiu had called him ‘wife.’ Something in the tense line of Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders must give his uncertainty away, because Luo Binghe clarifies quickly. “I like them both; I like being married to Husband, whatever that makes me. Whatever you like best, I like that one best too.”
That makes that same frustrating feeling curl through Shen Qingqiu’s gut, the one he feels whenever Luo Binghe defers so completely to Shen Qingqiu, whenever Shen Qingqiu thinks about how Luo Binghe deserves -
Well, ‘deserves more than scraps,’ was how he’d mentally worded it earlier, and it isn’t wrong now, either.
“Binghe should choose based on what makes him happiest, not me,” Shen Qingqiu argues, and Luo Binghe presses himself even closer to him.
“I love you,” he sighs, pleased and warm and sweet. It doesn’t even seem to be an argument, or a proper response at all; it’s just Luo Binghe saying it for the sake of it, because he wants to.
“Mm,” Shen Qingqiu says back, like a coward.
Nearly a whole year married, and he still can’t tell Luo Binghe that he loves him when it’s still light out, or when it’s not through writing, or -
“I - that is, to Binghe, I also -”
“Husband says it enough,” Luo Binghe interrupts, voice sticky sweet and indulgent. “And in different ways. You just told me to choose what makes me happiest, didn’t you?”
Shen Qingqiu frowns. “That much should be obvious,” he mutters, quiet enough even he can barely hear it, now that his face is back to being smushed into Luo Binghe’s robes.
“Husband proves me right, then,” Luo Binghe replies smugly, and Shen Qingqiu sighs, deciding to drop it for the time being. This has already been far too emotionally demanding of a conversation as it is. “So call me whatever is easiest for you. Even if it’s just ‘Binghe,’ I’ll also be happy.”
Shen Qingqiu lets out a long, stuttering sigh. The air bounces back up against Luo Binghe’s shoulder, ruffling Shen Qingqiu’s own bangs, and he makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat despite himself.
“I told you before,” Shen Qingqiu says, after there’s been a long stretch of comfortable silence between them. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”
Luo Binghe hums, pleased, and Shen Qingqiu can feel the shape of his smile pressed into his temple.
“You don’t have to follow quickly,” Luo Binghe says, quiet and reassuring. “You can still be following at your own pace.”
Shen Qingqiu wrinkles his nose. “Some husband you are,” he grumbles, in part just to test it, to see if it might be better or worse or whatever compared to ‘wife.’ “You say you love me in one breath, but then you call me old and slow in the other, ah?”
Luo Binghe laughs, and the serious mood lifts a bit. “This Binghe wouldn’t dare!”
“What ‘wouldn’t dare,’ ah?” Shen Qingqiu snipes back, hiding his own small grin in Luo Binghe’s shoulder. “Telling me I can follow ‘at my own pace,’ like I’m an old man who can’t help it!”
Luo Binghe snorts, bringing the hand that had been running soothing lines up and down Shen Qingqiu’s back to grip at his shoulder, digging in pleasantly to the muscle there.
“Ah, I’d better make sure your old man body is still faring well, then, perhaps we can start with a full body examination and -” Luo Binghe breaks off into a giggle, Shen Qingqiu pinching viciously at his side. “- and a massage, and -”
“You’re such a brat,” Shen Qingqiu grumbles, exasperated and fond, and Luo Binghe hums pleasantly in agreement. After a moment’s hesitation, Shen Qingqiu speaks back up, a bit softer this time. “You’re a good one, you know.”
“Hm?”
“‘Some husband you are,’” Shen Qingqiu repeats, “A - you’re a good one.” Husband, wife, whatever - whatever Luo Binghe wanted to be, he really is the best at it.
Luo Binghe preens, pushing himself further into the heat of their embrace. “Shizun as well,” he says, mumbling happily into Shen Qingqiu’s hair.
Shen Qingqiu lets out an over dramatic sigh. “And yet, despite all Binghe’s skill and efforts, he still -”
“Husband as well,” Luo Binghe interrupts, clearly amused. “Husband is the best, too.”
“Hmph,” Shen Qingqiu grumbles, even though he knows Luo Binghe can tell he’s smiling. “Well, that’s fine then.”
Luo Binghe laughs again, softly. It really is Shen Qingqiu’s favorite sound, and it’s been nice to hear it so much, this past year.
He’ll… he’ll work hard, to follow Luo Binghe just a bit faster. Luo Binghe deserves that, from the people who love him.
And Shen Qingqiu loves him far, far too much for his own good.