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It was with a sullen sort of pessimism that Shen Yuan watched the snow fall in gentle waves around him—crisp and cold and thick enough to hide the rotting stench of leaves below.
Winter had arrived seemingly overnight, overtaking the decay of autumn with a sudden and cruel usurpation that transformed the quaint city park into an achingly beautiful picture of clean purity.
Shen Yuan, who was sitting amongst this vision of false virtue, shivering in his too thin jacket and glaring out at the beauty around him, wished he was anywhere but here.
Anywhere but in this unfamiliar cold, in this unfamiliar city, on this unfamiliar bench.
With this unfamiliar name.
Breathing out into a visible plume of white, Shen Yuan closed his eyes and leaned back. His thoughts swirled in his mind, winding and winding and winding around as unease bloomed in his chest and memories resurfaced unbidden.
He thought of the past.
He thought of the present.
He thought of the consequences of involuntary manslaughter.
…Well, okay, not the usual consequences.
His consequences.
He was well aware of the fact that not everyone got sent to a foreign—and much colder —country by witness protection because of their overprotective (and admittedly rather rich) father.
…But really, it wasn’t like he’d meant to do it.
It was involuntary manslaughter.
Hell, not even! Because—thanks google—involuntary manslaughter usually insinuated some criminal or generally reckless behavior or activity.
He only…. accidentally killed a man.
…
Look. He was just scooping icecream!
How was he supposed to know the guy was allergic to peanuts?
And how was he supposed to know this guy with an unfortunate peanut allergy was also a highly influential evil corporate criminal mastermind genius billionaire?
It was his first job!
Anyone could mix up the peanut and the chocolate labels!
The horrific memory of the poor man wheezing and choking on the black and white tiles of that small ice cream shop had the Shen Yuan of the present groaning loudly, covering his face with red, knitted mittens that scratched unpleasantly at his skin. They were still slightly damp from the snow he’d brushed off the bench earlier, but he continued to hold them pressed to his frozen cheeks regardless, pushing them into his eyes until his vision went red and splotchy behind his lids.
It had been a month and nine days since the agent had dropped him off in this horrible, cold country. All he’d been allowed to take from home in the rush to escape had been a small duffel bag that had had to be pre-approved and thoroughly checked. Nothing with his old name could remain. He’d had to get a new phone, a new laptop, he’d been given new papers, a new passport, new cards.
A new life.
Gone was Shen Yuan.
He was, now and for the foreseeable future, Shen Qingqiu.
Feeling immensely sorry for himself, Shen Yuan breathed the cold winter air deeply into his lungs—until they ached in protest—and then exhaled with a rough, harsh sound. Only then did his mittens slide away from his face to drop to his lap, and he blinked open his eyes to watch the resulting white air float away and dissipate with detached disinterest.
His nose was cold.
His feet were frozen.
His butt had long since gone numb.
His apartment was shitty.
The food here tasted weird.
He missed his mom.
Not for the first time, Shen Yuan felt his throat ache and his eyes go hot with the threat of tears.
He sniffed.
He blinked fast.
Fuck.
Fuck his life.
Fuck the cold.
Fuck this fake—
“Hi,” said a voice, warm and deep and cheerful. Shen Yuan jolted in place, pulled back to the present.
Oh god.
Seriously?
Right when he started crying?
Hastily blinking away his tears and scrubbing furiously under his nose with a scratchy mitten, Shen Yuan turned towards the voice and immediately found himself looking up, up, up.
The stranger, the man, was tall and handsome—almost devastatingly so—and bundled up in a sleek black coat. He was smiling, friendly and open, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold. He looked like he should be on the cover of some fashion magazine, Shen Yuan thought, not talking to a random, miserable stranger.
Shen Yuan sniffed suspiciously.
Just to be sure, he quickly checked over his shoulder to see if this guy was really talking to him and not some equally devastating beauty behind him. When he found no one, he turned back to face the stranger in confusion—whose handsome face was now decidedly amused.
It made him, if possible, even better looking.
Fuck.
“Hi—” Shen Yuan croaked out eventually, voice rough with disuse. He quickly cleared his throat and said, more clearly this time, “Sorry. Hi. Can I help you?”
“I hope so,” was the response, just as warm and dulcet as before. That smile widened a fraction, flashing white teeth, as the stranger wiggled the expensive looking phone in his hand. “See, I’m waiting for someone. They’re a bit late, so I was hoping I could share your bench until they arrive.”
“Oh,” said Shen Yuan, fingers curling in his mittens. “Look, uh, I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I’d be the best company right now.”
“Ah. I see, I see,” said the stranger with a laugh. He squinted off into the distance, smiling to himself. “I understand. You’re dull.”
What.
“What.”
“You know. Boring. Drab. Uninteresting.”
“I know what dull means. I’m not—”
“No, no. It’s fine,” the stranger said, shaking his head as he absently kicked at a clump of snow. When he looked back at Shen Yuan it was with a somber sort of smile. “Boring people can’t help being boring.”
Shen Yuan laughed weakly. Then, when this man simply continued to stare at him with an almost pitying look, he furrowed his brows with a frown.
“You're serious. You don't even know me."
A shrug. "What can I say? I'm a pretty good judge of character."
“I’m not boring.”
The stranger's smile transformed, turning into a cheeky grin. “You wanna scootch over and prove that?”
Feeling a bit like he was walking into a trap, Shen Yuan eyed the man up and down suspiciously. Finding nothing particularly damning—aside from the dangerously well fighting coat—Shen Yuan sighed in defeat and slid over. As he did, he made an exaggerated wave towards the now vacated half of the bench.
The stranger bowed grandly. “Why, thank you.”
As he made a bit of a show of sitting down, Shen Yuan let out a huff. “You know, I wish I was boring.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. It’s too bad I’m such a fucking delight. I’m about to rock your world with the most interesting conversation you’ve ever had when you clearly deserve mundane weather talk. I haven’t talked to anyone in far too long and I have a backlog of amazing topics ready to blow your mind.”
“Rock my world, huh?”
“Yes.”
“And blow my mind?”
“I am scintillating.”
The stranger tilted his head and smiled wider, toothy and captivating. “In that case I better try and keep up.”
It was perhaps wiser, given the circumstances of his situation, for Shen Yuan to suggest to this handsome stranger that he move to any other of the free benches in the park.
Shen Yuan should probably also question why this stranger even wanted to sit on a wet, snow covered bench in the first place.
Shen Yuan could even point out that there was a much more comfortable coffee shop just around the corner that would serve as a perfect meeting spot.
But…Shen Yuan was lonely.
One month and nine days was a long time not to talk to anyone.
And this handsome stranger was oddly charming and beautiful and was paying attention to him.
So Shen Yuan stopped fighting his smile.
They sat together on that frosty bench in the park for thirty minutes.
Then they moved to the coffee shop and stayed another two hours.
The ‘friend’ never arrived.
Shen Yuan forgot to question it.
“What’s your name? We’ve been talking all this time. I can't believe I haven’t asked yet.”
“Ah. Sorry, it’s, uh—it’s Shen Qingqiu,” Shen Yuan said, his smile faltering for the first time in what felt like hours. “And you are?”
The handsome stranger grinned, chin balanced in one palm as he studied Shen Yuan from across the table.
“Luo Binghe.”
—————
The next time Shen Yuan ran into Luo Binghe it was entirely by accident. He’d been studying the various packs of ramen at a local convenience store—reading the unfamiliar labels and trying to decide whether or not he would prefer beef or pork—when a voice arose far too close to his ear.
“Is it really so hard to decide?”
Shen Yuan shrieked, clutching the ramen to his chest as he whirled around to find the handsome stranger from yesterday staring down at him with a smile.
“Binghe? ” he asked after his heart had calmed somewhat.
“You remember.” He sounded pleased by this.
“Shit, you scared me.”
“I get that a lot,” Luo Binghe said with a grin, as though he was laughing at an inside joke only he knew. He held up a jug of milk in his hand. “I was buying milk when I spotted you over the aisle. You’ve been staring down at those noodles for the last fifteen minutes so I thought I’d see what the fuss is about.”
“I’m just not used to these brands,” Shen Yuan admitted, looking back down at the colourful packages. “I don’t know what they taste like.”
“Do you always have so much trouble?”
“I’m a picky eater. I don’t like choosing new things unless they have a character on them I like. Also I’m allergic to a bunch of shit so I have to read the labels of things before I buy them. Which definitely sucks, but not as much as hospital visits.”
“I see,” Luo Binghe said. “What do you mean by a character you like?”
Shen Yuan rummaged in his basket and pulled out a Pokemon themed chip bag, brandishing it proudly in front of Lup Binghe.
“Togepi,” he said in explanation.
Luo Binghe tilted his head. He looked amused. “Fun.”
Satisfied he’d gotten his point across, Shen Yuan dropped the chips back into his basket. “I can’t always eat them, mind you, but they’re fun to collect.”
“Do you collect many things?”
“I used to,” Shen Yuan said, frowning at the reminder. Then, once his brain caught up with his ears and remembered he was actually on the run and that people wanted to kill him, he looked up suspiciously at the man beside him. “How do you know I’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes? You haven't been staring this whole time, have you?”
Luo Binghe didn’t answer at first, merely watched him with dark, unreadable eyes.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
When he spoke, it was with his usual warm amusement. “That was hyperbole, I assure you. I only just spotted you over here. Though by your reaction, I take it I wasn’t far off?”
Shen Yuan studied Luo Binghe’s expression, trying to figure out whether he was telling the truth. It was weird to see the man again so soon after their first meeting.
As he did so, Luo Binghe’s smile only widened.
Finally, finding nothing of note on that unfairly handsome face, Shen Yuan allowed his shoulders to relax.
“Like I said, hospital visits suck.”
“Mm. Well, if you’re looking for a lunch with ingredients that are easier to pronounce, I was about to head over to the noodle place across the street. Freshly made, hand pulled in house.”
Shen Yuan frowned, considering the offer. He looked back down at the ramen in his hand. “I suppose I would be less likely to get sent to the hospital.”
A shoulder bumped against his own, and Shen Yuan nearly jumped out of his skin at the companionable—yet unfamiliar—action.
“And if you do end up swelling up like a balloon, I promise I’ll be there to drive you to the ER.”
Despite himself, Shen Yuan snorted. “My hero.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Well after that promise, how could I say no?”
—————
“Waiting for the bus?”
Shen Yuan looked up, squinting through the icy raindrops pouring down his face to find a dark figure approaching him. A moment later the rain halted as a black umbrella covered his head.
Luo Binghe smiled down at him.
Shen Yuan wiped his eyes. “Wha—? Binghe? How the hell do you keep finding me? This is the fifth time this week.”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“That’s my line,” Shen Yuan laughed weakly. “You’re like my knight in shiny armour every time I see you. Knowing you, I bet you’re about to offer me a ride home.”
Luo Binghe chucked. “If you like. Though maybe ‘knight in rain soaked sweatshirt’ is more apt.”
“What?” Shen Yuan looked down at what Luo Binghe was wearing. “Why don’t you have a raincoat ? And you’re not even under the umbrella! Are you a child? Here, take this.”
Before Luo Binghe could protest, Shen Yuan pulled off his scarf—kept dry beneath his hood. And reached up to wrap it securely around Luo Binghe’s neck—not seeing the flash of surprise that sparked in those dark eyes. He then repositioned the, admittedly small, umbrella so it also covered Luo Binghe, forcing Shen Yuan to step even closer.
“Honestly, Binghe—did you get the smallest umbrella you could find?”
“Not the smallest.”
Shen Yuan laughed. “You’re terrible—ah shit, that was definitely lightning. Okay, hurry up and offer me that ride before we both get sick.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
—————
10:23 am
Unknown number: Hey, are you feeling okay this morning?
10:49 am
You: wtf who is this?
10:50 am
Unknown number: Luo Binghe. How’s the headache?
10:58 am
You: dude howd you get me numbr?
10:58 am
You: it fucking sucks, i wnt 2 die
10:59 am
Unknown number: Last night. You were pretty drunk.
11:14 am
You: oh. I dnt remembr but that sounds about right. i dont usually dirnk that much. feel like shit
11:15 am
LBH: I’ll be over with soup and medicine.
11:34 am
You: wait wut
11:35 am
LBH: Outside! :)
—————
“Will you go out with me?”
Shen Yuan choked on his mountain dew, turning in his computer chair to stare at Luo Binghe, who was leaning over the back of the couch, expression neutral, face in his hands.
“What?”
“Will you go out with me?” Luo Binghe asked again.
“Wha—? I heard you the first time!”
At this, Luo Binghe’s lips twitched upwards slightly, before setting back into an artfully crafted pout.
“Well?”
“I—”
“Do you not like me?”
“Of course I—”
“So what’s the issue?”
Shen Yuan stared at the man opposite him—emphasis on man —and tried to do anything but sputter uncontrollably. When he finally managed to calm somewhat, breathing out shakily and clearing his throat, he tried again.
“It’s not that…” he began, only to immediately trail off as his mind raced a mile a minute trying to rationalize his thinking while simultaneously processing the fact that Luo Binghe—once again, a man —was asking him out and also that Shen Yuan might be okay with this despite never before even considering it and that he might even like the idea and, and, and —
He paused.
His mind glitched.
Restarted.
Okay.
Gay awakening successfully processed.
But—
“I just don’t get it,” he said finally. When Luo Binghe opened his mouth, Shen Yuan rushed to add, “It’s not the gay thing, I promise. It’s more a you thing. Well. Me thing.”
Luo Binghe raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ talk right now?”
“No! No. Well… maybe. But also not really! Oh, don’t give me that look. I’m trying to give you the…” Shen Yuan paused, thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers and pointed at Luo Binghe. “I’m giving you the ‘you’re freakishly attractive and I’m maybe a six if you’re drunk and being kind about it’ talk.”
A grin. “You think I’m freakishly attractive?”
“Binghe!”
Luo Binghe laughed before gracefully rising from the couch. He sauntered towards Shen Yuan, and with each step Shen Yuan felt his mental HP bar receding. It was when Luo Binghe was one step away that Shen Yuan realized he wasn’t going to win this one.
Luo Binghe finished closing the distance separating them, sliding his knee between Shen Yuan’s as he did so.
He leaned down. Soft hands cupped Shen Yuan’s face.
A smile.
“Say yes, darling. Just say yes.”
Shen Yuan swallowed thickly. His throat was dry. His palms were clammy. His pulse like rapid fire.
He licked his lips, watching dark eyes drop down at the action.
Okay.
Okay.
—————
“You have a what?”
“Don’t make me regret telling you,” Shen Yuan said into the mic attached to his headphones as his fingers danced across the keyboard. “And can you please not stand behind the pillar when I’m trying to heal you?”
“Wait, wait, wait. No. Shut up. You literally ghosted me for four months and now suddenly you come back with a boyfriend? What the fuck, bro?”
“I told you I was sorry.”
“I thought you were dead,” snapped his sometimes friend into his ear. “And that’s not what we’re discussing at the moment. Boyfriend? Bro, I didn’t even know you were gay.”
“Actually that was a bit of a surprise for me too.”
“So this guy just, what? Came up to you and turned you gay?”
“Kind of?”
“...Dude, I was joking. That was sarcasm.”
“Look, I can’t explain it. He was very, uh… persuasive. And wouldn’t I be bisexual?”
“Cucumber-bro, the most remotely sexually turned on you’ve ever been to anything in your life was when you got to insert that fancy ass computer part into your PC. You’re clearly gay.”
“...I don’t think that’s—”
“Gaaaaaaaaaaay.”
“Why are you like this.”
“You love me. Now explain ‘persuasive’. Was it like pushy persuasive or more of creepy persuasive?”
“Definitely creepy. He's got the whole 'I would eat you alive so no one else could look at you' vibes.”
"Kinky."
"If you're into that, I guess."
"Well it sounds like you certainly are."
Shen Yuan sighed. "Like I said, he's persuasive. Besides, the whole thing is still pretty new."
“Hm. I thought you said he was hot.”
“Wha—? I never told you that!”
“Maybe not, but I can tell by how flustered you are that the dude is smokin’.”
“I’m not—!”
“Which begs the question—why did he bother being pushy with your nerdy ass?”
“Dude. Rude.”
“Seems sus. Tell me everything immediately.”
A sigh. “There isn’t much to say, we kept running into each other randomly, and he always insisted on chatting and following after me wherever I was going until finally we just exchanged numbers one night and—”
“Okay. Enough, enough! I don’t want to hear about your whirlwind romance—Ah. Fuck. I died. Why didn’t you heal me?”
“The pillar, dude.”
“TMI, Cucumber-bro! I may be kinda sorta fond of you, but I don’t want to hear about your sex life!”
“That’s not—ugh, nevermind. Just respawn already.”
“Fiiine.”
“I’ll meet you at the checkpoint.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
There was a pause, the rumpling sound of a chip bag opening, a subsequent telltale crunch.
“....So how big is his pillar?”
“SHUT UP!”
—————
The first time Luo Binghe genuinely laughed it surprised Shen Yuan.
Now, it should be noted that this wasn’t the first time he’d ever heard him laugh. But this was definitely the first time he’d actually believed the emotion behind the action.
Because it wasn’t…. perfect.
It couldn’t be rightly called ugly. Nothing Luo Binghe did was ever less than absolutely beautiful, but it was…
It was human.
His grin was kind of crooked, and he showed too much teeth as he snorted and guffawed with his head thrown back. His nose wrinkled and his eyes closed as he was lost in the euphoria of laughing at Shen Yuan’s expense.
Shen Yuan—who was currently covered in flour after an unfortunate noodle making disaster—stared at him, stunned for a moment.
It wasn’t beautiful, but he was somehow captivated nonetheless.
He couldn’t look away if he tried.
And then, when the laughter finally stopped and died away, Luo Binghe abruptly froze—like he also realized he had been less than perfect for the first time since they’d met. Wide eyes darted to Shen Yuan.
Shen Yuan had thought his eyes would have shown panic—or perhaps embarrassment at being caught acting anything less than golden. He knew Luo Binghe put on a bit of a front. He figured it came with being so good looking and naturally perfect all the time (and also a bit of a creep).
But it wasn’t panic that painted Luo Binghe’s expression. Nor was it embarrassment.
It was…confusion.
Interest?
Fascination.
(Obsession.)
—————
“So what do you do, anyways?” Shen Yuan asked one day, five months after he first met Luo Binghe. Both of them were cuddled together on the couch, their legs tangled as Shen Yuan leaned against his boyfriend’s chest. His eyes were half closed as he focused on the screen of his Switch, though he paid more attention to the feeling of Luo Binghe breathing behind him, to the feel of long fingers gently stroking through his hair.
At Shen Yuan’s question, those fingers faltered for a moment, but they were fast to continue—careful and rhythmic and soothing.
“You’ve never asked before,” was the reply, warm lips brushing against the skin of his ear. The hand around his waist curled beneath his sweater to rest comfortably against his stomach. “Does this mean you love me?”
Shen Yuan rolled his eyes despite the sudden heat in his face. “Why do you always ask me that? It’s just a question.”
Luo Binghe hummed and Shen Yuan felt the thrum of it at his back. The fingers that were in his hair now moved to Shen Yuan’s temple, the rough pads of his fingers stroking down the length of his face, up over his cheek, back down the tip of his nose.
Shen Yuan wrinkled it.
“Perhaps I’m waiting for a response.”
“I’m waiting for a response.”
Luo Binghe laughed, and the action blew warm air against Shen Yuan’s hair. Lips moved to his temple and Luo Binghe pressed a kiss there before answering.
“I…take care of people.”
Shen Yuan thought on those words as he absently paused his game. He let the console fall to the cushions beside them as he reached his fingers up to tangle with the ones caressing his face. “So like…old people?”
“Mm. Sometimes.” Shen Yuan’s hand was squeezed and a second, longer kiss was pressed to his skin. “Sometimes I also take care of innocent young men who attract far too much trouble for their own good.”
“…Are you referring to me with that last bit?” Shen Yuan asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’re ‘taking care of me’ now?”
“Are you saying I don’t?”
“I’m saying—wait, what do you mean trouble?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Luo Binghe began fondly, indulgently. “You easily attract more trouble than anyone I’ve ever met. Keeping you out of it is a full time job.”
“Wha—”
“Last week you almost got scammed twice and the week before you got pushed into a pond and called asshole by the homophobic piece of shit you call nieghbour.”
“Hm. I will maybe admit that you have a point but only because you helped me get the pond smell out of my clothes.”
“I live to serve.”
Shen Yuan snorted. Then, as a memory sparked in his mind, he said, “Oh. That’s right. I forgot to tell you.”
“Hm?”
“It’s about homophobic neighbour. He moved out. I was chatting with the apartment manager and he asked if I knew anyone who wanted to rent a suite. And when I asked which one, guess what he said?”
“Oh, I couldn’t begin to imagine.”
“Don’t be coy. You know where I’m going with this.”
“First time I’ve been called coy,” Luo Binghe mused, almost absently, playing with Shen Yuan’s fingers, “but please do go on. I haven’t the faintest idea what you could mean.”
“You’re a buzzkill and I want you to know that,” Shen Yuan said. “He said 202! Asshole neighbour suite!”
Luo Binghe smiled against his temple. “How fortuitous.”
“Fuck, I’ll say. That guy was a pain,” Shen Yuan sighed. “What were we talking about?”
“You were saying how much you love and adore me and how you’ll let me do that thing with my—”
“Right. Your job. Which you have yet to explain.”
Luo Binghe snickered. “Like I said. I take care of people.”
Shen Yuan huffed back, then let out an outraged squawk as Luo Binghe pulled him ever closer in a tight, suffocating hug, blowing loud raspberries into the softness of his cheek as he tickled his sides.
Which was awful.
Really, really awful.
He didn’t like it at all.
…Fuck.
Fuck.
—————
It was easy to fall in love with Luo Binghe, in the end.
Hard to admit, perhaps, but easy enough to do.
It was definitely weird at first. He wasn’t used to so much attention—and Luo Binghe was nothing if not… attentive. Creepily so, even.
The affection Luo Binghe showed him at each interaction, each conversation, each meeting, each date —needy and longing and obsessive and desperate —was like a wave of warmth as it crashed against Shen Yuan.
And it killed the cold, dark loneliness inside him.
—————
Three years was a long time to be in a relationship.
The honeymoon period was over, the glitz and the glam and the excitement of the new. You began to learn the ticks of your partner, the ins, the outs of their character. You learned how perfect they were, how imperfect. You experienced an intimacy—one beyond the bedroom—that left you whole and undone and raw.
It was beautiful and terrifying and wonderful.
And infuriating.
“I’m just buying groceries,” Shen Yuan snapped, trying to step around Luo Binghe. He released an aggravated breath when this movement was copied.
Luo Binghe crossed his arms. “You’re going to the convenience store to buy ramen.”
“It’s food. ”
“Hardly. Besides, we have food here.”
“I want ramen,” Shen Yuan whined, even as he was picked up and collected into strong arms. He gave a useless wiggle of protest before giving up and slumping over Luo Binghe’s shoulders sadly.
This wasn’t his first time being refused junk food.
“I hate you.”
“You love me,” Luo Binghe countered, stroking down his back—always so touchy —as he walked them both away from the front door and into the living room. Then, carefully, he deposited Shen Yuan down into his gaming chair. “And you will have a nutritious meal to show for it that won’t send you to the hospital.”
Shen Yuan smacked away overly touchy hands as he glared up into dark, amused eyes.
“That was one time.”
“One was enough.”
“You know, just because you’re bigger doesn’t mean you can push me around.”
Luo Binghe leaned down, bracketing his hands on either side of Shen Yuan’s chair. He flashed his teeth in a wild grin. “Doesn’t it?”
“I want ramen. And chips,” Shen Yuan complained. “I’m an adult. I’ve earned these things!”
“Hm. Lunch will be ready in half an hour,” Luo Binghe said, leaning down further to kiss Shen Yuan’s forehead. “Play your games.”
“Why do you always say it like that—”
A buzz cut him off.
It took a moment for Shen Yuan to realize it came from Luo Binghe’s phone.
Luo Binghe’s expression faltered somewhat as he stood upright, which made Shen Yuan realize this was probably one of his infamous work calls. This was confirmed a moment later by the dark expression on Luo Binghe’s face as he stared down at the screen of his phone.
“Something’s come up,” Luo Binghe said after a pause. The darkness was suddenly gone from his face, covered by a dazzling smile. “I need to head to the office.”
Shen Yuan froze. “Again?”
“Mm,” Luo Binghe hummed, bending back down to kiss Shen Yuan’s cheek, who instinctively leaned into the familiar press of lips.
“But it’s your day off,” Shen Yuan protested as Luo Binghe moved away, eyes already back on his phone.
“Yes. It is rather rude of them,” his boyfriend agreed over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. As though in afterthought, he added a moment later, “I’ll make sure they know you’re displeased.”
Shen Yuan scratched his cheek, the spot that Luo Binghe had kissed, before deciding to stand and follow. When he arrived at the front door of their apartment, he found Luo Binghe already putting on his shoes.
“Does this mean I can go to the convenience store?” he asked, leaning against the wall.
“There’s food in the fridge from last night. You can heat that up.”
“Yeah, I won’t be doing that.”
Luo Binghe pocketed his phone, turned that smile on him, and with his usual casual confidence he took the two steps that lay between them.
“Won’t you?” he purred, tilting his head, sugar sweet. He reached up to cup warm palms against Shen Yuan’s face, stroking the apples of his cheek with rough thumbs. “For me?”
Shen Yuan glared.
In response Luo Binghe squeezed Shen Yuan’s cheeks together, squishing his face comically between his large hands.
“I hate you,” Shen Yuan mumbled through his puckered lips.
“You love me,” Luo Binghe countered, kissing him soundly with lips that tasted like a wicked smile. “Heat up those leftovers. I’ll be back tonight.”
“Don’t stay out late,” Shen Yuan said as they parted, kicking at one of the shoes by the door with his toe. “And be safe—mmff!!”
It took his boyfriend five extra minutes to finally detach himself and leave.
—————
“Oh, yeah. He’s def cheating on you, bro.”
“What the fuck, dude?”
“I’m just saying how I see it.”
“He’s not cheating on me.”
“Look, I have been listening to you complain about this for the last hour. He leaves at random times? All of a sudden? Calls from the ‘office’? Cucumber-bro, I hate to break it to you but that’s textbook cheating.”
Shen Yuan frowned. He tapped an absent finger against his mouse, unable to help the way his eyes darted to his phone—which had been silent for the last three hours.
He’d received no texts from Luo Binghe.
Not since he left.
It was…not like him.
It hadn’t been like him, anyway.
Shen Yuan forced his eyes back to his screen, pushing the thought to the back of his mind.
“Would you shut up and tank properly? I swear if we die again I’m killing you myself.”
“You’re delusional.”
“And you're dead.”
“Wha—Ah, fuck! ”
—————
It was late when Shen Yuan was woken by the tell-tale dip of the mattress.
He blinked open his eyes just as familiar arms moved to wrap around his waist beneath the covers, pulling him soundly against a broad chest. His gaze darted in sleepy confusion to the clock on the nightstand.
2:35 am.
“Binghe…?” he mumbled sleepily just as a cold nose pressed against the back of his neck.
Damp hair brushed his cheek.
Luo Binghe had showered.
Shen Yuan felt him inhale, felt the way his fingers crawled beneath Shen Yuan’s shirt to stroke up his stomach, felt his arms—sturdy and warm—wrap around him tighter, tighter, tighter until he grunted from the pressure.
Normally when Luo Binghe did this, Shen Yuan protested and wiggled until he was free from the painful grip.
But now…
Now, he felt the urge to cling back, to latch on to the supposed meaning of the act—the neediness, the clinginess, the desire to still be this close to Shen Yuan even after all this time—and swallow it whole.
It was this urge that made him suddenly freeze, that made him realize that deep down suspicions had truly taken root inside him, filling his lungs and clogging his airways until he couldn't breath from the ache of it.
He felt uncertain…
He felt sick.
—————
“Can you grab that chest?”
…What if he was wrong?
“Dude, I told you to grab the chest.”
What if all the signs—all the clues—were just coincidences?
“Dude. Are you ignoring me?”
What if he was making it all bigger than it actually was?
“Cucumber-bro! ”
Shen Yuan jerked in his seat, pulled from his mind as he blinked dumbly at the bright red words on the screen telling him 'YOU’RE DEAD'. He sighed, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms.
“Hey, Airplane?”
“Dude, I hope you have a good excuse for that bullshit play. You just lost me 300 gold and a chance at those fancy ass snakeskin gloves with the dope defense boost.”
“They don’t go with your kit.”
“Yeah but they look nice.”
“But—no. I don’t care. Can you—”
“Wow, rude.”
“Can you please just listen for a second?”
“Not if you make fun of my boss ass gloves.”
“I think you’re right.”
“About the gloves?”
“No. Airplane. Not about the gloves.” Shen Yuan’s hands dropped down away from his face to his lap as he tiredly leaned his head back against his chair. Blinking up at the white speckled ceiling, he swallowed thickly. “I think he’s cheating on me.”
“...Oh. Your boyfriend? Shit.”
“...Yeah.”
“Can you prove it?”
“What?”
“Well that’s the next step, isn’t it? You have to catch him. You can’t just dump the guy or else you’ll forever wonder if you were wrong.”
Shen Yuan glanced down at his phone—silent and dark. “I suppose talking about it with him isn’t an option?”
A sardonic scoff came from Airplane-bro’s end. “Dude, no. Not if you want him to lie to your face. Besides, once they know you’re on the case, they clam up. You won’t find anything after that.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“You gotta get his phone. Unlock it when he’s sleeping.”
“How? I don’t know his password.”
“Does he have facial recognition set up?”
“I think so? But—”
“Just hover it over his face while he’s sleeping. A friend of mine swears by it.”
Shen Yuan wrinkled his nose. “....That sounds fake.”
“Try it tonight. I promise it’ll work.”
“Maybe,” said Shen Yuan. He picked at his fingers, cradled in his lap. “If he comes home tonight.”
“Ah, shit. That bad, huh? I’m sorry, dude.”
Despite the ache splitting his heart in two, Shen Yuan found himself somehow smiling.
“You getting soft on me, Airplane?”
“Oh fuck off. Now come on, already—you still owe me those gloves!”
Shen Yuan laughed, even as he leaned forward to position his fingers once more over his keyboard and mouse.
“Mm. Fine. But only because it will amuse me greatly to see you accomplish the impossible feat of making those gloves look even gayer .”
“I try my best.”
—————
Shen Yuan wanted it on the record that Airplane-bro was a no good rotten horrible LIAR.
Holding his breath, as he had been doing for the last minute, Shen Yuan crept away from the slumbering Luo Binghe—whose closed eyed face failed to unlock his sleek phone from its own slumber. Mentally cursing out his ‘friend’, Shen Yuan had decided to escape to the bathroom and regroup, Luo Binghe’s phone still in hand.
Once inside, having gently turned the lock after closing the door, Shen Yuan had shut the toilet seat and slumped down onto the lid.
Now, rubbing his face tiredly with a heavy sigh, he tried to think what to do.
You know, aside from murdering Airplane-bro.
…Fuck.
Now his only chance was to somehow guess the password.
Shen Yuan’s own phone password was his birthday. Not horribly secure, of course, but it got the job done—also he had a shit memory. Could Luo Binghe’s be that simple?
Chewing on his lip, Shen Yuan keyed in the numbers for Luo Binghe’s birthday.
The phone shook slightly in his hand, erasing the code.
Nope.
Maybe someone else’s birthday?
Unlikely. As an orphan, Luo Binghe didn’t have much by way of family—only a foster mother who had died when he was fairly young. Not that he knew her birthday, so it was a bit of a moot point.
As for friends, Luo Binghe didn’t seem to have any. Though he was always messaging silently on his phone, he didn’t seem to have anything beyond a few acquaintances, weirdly enough. Shen Yuan had assumed it was because he was always so hyper focused on Shen Yuan.
Well….until now, he supposed.
Shen Yuan swallowed thickly, feeling a sudden ache in his chest.
He had to get into this stupid phone.
Tapping a finger against the side of the plastic case, he considered possible passwords.
Then, without really thinking, he typed in the date for his own birthday.
And the phone screen lit up.
Shen Yuan froze, wide eyed.
…Well fuck.
That was…sweet?
Should he feel….guilty?
…
Fuck it….he’d feel guilty later.
With reckless abandon, Shen Yuan tapped into the messages app, swiping furiously through past entries. And—
And...
And.
Slower this time, Shen Yuan checked the photos once more.
Then he checked a third time.
He closed the screen. Opened it. Unlocked it.
He checked a fourth time.
Repeat.
And then, fingers trembling, breathing rapidly, Shen Yuan proceeded to check the emails, he checked notes, he checked the fucking internet history.
It was filled with—
There was—
Flashes of blood.
Stains of red.
Pictures of—
Names. Ticked off.
Emails—brief. Incriminating.
Trackers.
Recordings.
Videos.
So fucking red. How could it be that red?
Luo Binghe had always been weird. Always too perfect, too put together. Was this why?
Fuck.
How many had there been?
Too many.
Fuck.
The phone dropped to the bath mat below.
Fuck.
—————
“Damn. Nice heal, dude. You saved my ass there.”
“I try,” Shen Yuan replied, leaning back in his chair, satisfied after a battle well fought.
He was about to suggest another game when Airplane-bro cleared his throat awkwardly in his ear.
“Uh. So. You’ve kind of uh… you’ve been quiet about your boyfriend lately. As your on and off again BFF I feel I am duty bound to ask how that’s going. Did you find out if your man’s a cheater?”
Shen Yuan froze.
“Uh. No.”
“…No you didn’t find out or no he’s not a cheater?”
“Um.” The word came out in a higher pitch than intended, Shen Yuan cleared his throat. “He’s not… cheating.”
“Hmm. Sus. Did you at least find out what he’s doing when he leaves?”
“Um. Yes.”
“Well ?”
“Hypothetically speaking. What would you do if you, uh, suspect , that your boyfriend is a… smrrrl krrllr .”
“A what?”
“A smerial kmller.”
“Dude, you’re mumbling. Stop it.”
Shen Yuan sighed, glancing over his shoulder quickly despite the fact that he knew Luo Binghe wasn’t home yet. Finding no surprise, large, lurking boyfriends, Shen Yuan turned back to face his laptop and, half cupping the mic, softly whispered into it.
“I think my boyfriend might be a serial killer.”
A beat passed.
“What.”
“I should probably…leave him,” he said, and even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “Right?”
“…Dude.”
“I should probably… want to leave him.”
“You’re joking, right? When did you first start to suspect this?”
“When I checked his phone.”
“When was this?”
“…Two days ago.”
“BRO. Dude, you are an actual moron. I mean— fuck. Are you joking with me? You aren’t serious, are you?”
Shen Yuan opened his mouth.
And…paused.
He felt the pounding in his chest.
He reached up to rub at the spot—which had felt like a constant ache the last few days.
He closed his mouth.
“...Yeah. I’m shitting you,” he said after a moment, forcing a smile so it would sound convincing.
He looked down at his lap, where his fingers tangled together, gripping tightly, his nails digging into the backs of his hands.
“He’s actually planning to propose,” he lied. “Sorry for being weird about it, I was a bit shocked at first.”
“What the fuck? Don’t joke about shit like that, dude.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re such an asshole.” A loud, muffled sigh. “Congrats I guess?”
“Thanks,” Shen Yuan said, his tone carefully neutral.
He glared down at his hands. They started to shake. His eyes felt hot.
“Fuck, my heart is going a mile a minute. You can’t scare me like that, I’m old.”
“You’re twenty-seven.”
“Shut up. I’m serious. Fuck you, bro. Dick move.”
Shen Yuan sniffed quietly, looking to the side as he rubbed his nose.“Yeah. Sorry.”
“But you’re happy at least? About the proposal?”
“I…honestly don’t know what to think.”
—————
For whatever reason—perhaps out of some sort of self preservation, a search for a semblance of hope, or even to satisfy some sick twisted curiosity inside him—Shen Yuan did some research while Luo Binghe was away one morning.
He opened his laptop, feeling paradoxically like a guilty housewife, and googled serial killers.
He read news articles, wiki pages, even checked the serial killer reddit page (and why did that even exist?)
He read excerpts of interviews—about how their partners and family and friends never knew, never suspected. How they never even realized the truth until it was too late.
He read about how perfectly normal they seemed, how pleasant, how charismatic.
He read about the cruelty of someone capable of such bloody atrocities.
It left him weak.
—————
That night Shen Yuan stared up at the ceiling, wide awake.
He had always been a fairly anxious person, but with his new found knowledge…the anxiety became nearly unbearable.
He couldn't eat.
He couldn’t focus.
He couldn't sleep.
Luo Binghe had no doubt noticed, but he had thankfully not yet mentioned it. Which was honestly anxiety inducing in itself…
As though he knew what was on Shen Yuan's mind, Luo Binghe, for once nestled beside him, cuddled ever closer. His hand had found its usual spot beneath Shen Yuan’s sleep shirt, his fingers spread wide and possessive against his stomach.
Shen Yuan thought of moving it, thought of rolling away, thought of doing anything apart from just laying there.
He should.
He really should.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t know why he didn’t.
“...There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t be with you. You know that, right?”
The words, warm and soft and sweet in his ear, made Shen Yuan freeze.
Many serial killers are able to successfully hide out in plain sight for extended periods of time. Those who successfully blend in are typically also employed, have families and homes and outwardly appear to be non-threatening, normal members of society.
“What’s wrong?”
Shen Yuan blinked, jerking to awareness to find Luo Binghe leaning on his elbow, looming over him in the dark.
“I—what?”
“You went still. Is everything okay?”
Shen Yuan looked up into that face he knew so well, his heart pounding like a war drum beneath his ribs, his throat tight and aching.
“I….yes, I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine. Lay back down.”
….He couldn’t do this.
—————
Shen Yuan stared down at his luggage, laying innocently on the bed, packed tight with all of his possessions.
He’d already contacted his father.
He would be here any moment.
Everything was set.
All he needed to do was grab the bag, put on his shoes, and leave.
…He’d been staring at the bag for about ten minutes now.
Unmoving.
Because whenever he went to grab the handle, a memory sparked in his mind. A face. A voice.
He remembered the charismatic man he met in a flurry of snow on a bench in a cold, cold park.
He remembered the way he found him again and again and again.
He remembered when Luo Binghe first asked him out on a date, full of charm and smiles and smooth words.
Then he remembered the first time he made Luo Binghe actually smile—actually laugh —how his boyfriend had looked surprised by this fact when it happened. Like he wasn’t used to smiling when it didn’t serve a purpose.
He also remembered Luo Binghe crying—and crying and crying and crying. Over little things, over big things, but always over Shen Yuan.
He remembered the clinginess, the downs, the lows, the really lows, the weird, the creepy, the normal, the highs, the joy, the heartbreak, the sorrow, the love.
He remembered the feel of his hand, wrapped warm around his own.
…Fuck.
Fuck.
He was such an idiot.
An actual moron.
He ran an aggravated hand through his hair, his heart running a mile in his chest as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to just… think.
But every time he tried, all he saw—all he knew —was Luo Binghe.
And wasn’t that telling?
Shen Yuan took a breath.
Held it.
When the air began to ache in his lungs, he released a loud sigh.
And then, tiredly, he began to unpack.
Like a suicidal idiot.
…Or at least one in love.
Unclasping the lock on the luggage with more force than necessary, Shen Yuan grumbled to himself as he grabbed a pair of pants from the top of the pile, turning to put them in the closet. Damn, he really needed a gossip session with—
Shen Yuan froze.
Standing opposite him, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and staring down at the floor with a seemingly bored expression on his face, was Luo Binghe.
And he was covered in blood.
“Bing—“
Luo Binghe still did not look up from the floor, and his tone was carefully casual as he interrupted Shen Yuan.
“You want to explain yourself?”
Though his legs trembled beneath him, Shen Yuan still found it in himself to spur on the spark of outrage in his chest. “I—do you?”
“I’m not the one packing my bags.”
“I’m not the one covered in blood.”
At this, Luo Binghe finally looked up, his eyes flashing with an intensity that Shen Yuan couldn’t place. It was odd, because Shen Yuan had thought by this time he knew every expression that face could make.
His heart suddenly felt like a stone in his chest.
“You don’t seem surprised. Isn’t that curious,” Luo Binghe mused, head tilting. He raised one hand to examine his red stained fingers. “I suppose I should apologize for the mess, but really, it’s your own fault. I had to take care of the people you called.”
“My father's men—”
“Won’t be coming anymore.”
Luo Binghe’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
He took a step closer.
Shen Yuan swallowed thickly. Cautiously, half joking, he said, "...Sounding an awful lot like the villian there, Luo Binghe."
"Feeling an awful lot like one, Shen Yuan."
So he knew his real name.
...Figures.
Shen Yuan's feet shuffled back on their own, but the backs of his knees hit the bed. "Look. Binghe. It's not what it looks like."
“Oh? Then please tell me...”
Another step.
Another.
“What exactly is this supposed to look like?”
Shen Yuan felt his breath falter, looking up into dark eyes.
The bloodied evidence from Luo Binghe’s phone, the texts, the emails—they all flashed in his mind.
He was brought back by the feeling of familiar fingers on his face, barely brushing the skin, teasing with the facsimile of a gentle caress.
“If you’re going to run,” he murmured into the space between them, “be sure to make it count. You won’t get a second chance.”
“Binghe—”
“Would you like me to count down from three?”
“Bing—”
“Three …”
Spitting out a curse, Shen Yuan shoved Luo Binghe away with as much force as he could muster. It wasn’t much, but he managed to slip through the small window he created, lunging forward as clambered towards the exit of their bedroom.
His arm was grabbed after the second step, wrenching him back in place. In retaliation, Shen Yuan kicked out with a foot at Luo Binghe’s shin, earning a grunt. Twisting his arm as he did so, Shen Yuan once more slipped free.
And then he was running again, skidding through the bedroom door and racing towards the apartment exit, pulling down their lamp and side table behind him as he did so.
Shit, shit, shit.
Breathing fast, Shen Yuan didn’t dare look behind him, didn’t dare think.
He just moved.
Crashing roughly against the wall by the entrance way, Shen Yuan didn’t bother with his shoes as he hurried towards the door. He was close to escape. Close to freedom. Whatever that meant.
Desperate hope filled him.
His fingers touched the doorknob.
A body slammed into his, shoving him against the door.
Shen Yuan gasped in pain, the chest behind him pressing him solidly against the wood. Hands moved up his sides, he felt lips against the skin of his ear.
“That was the only chance you’ll ever get,” Luo Binghe hissed hotly into his ear.
A damp cloth suddenly covered his mouth and nose, smothering him.
His world went dark.
—————
When Shen Yuan woke, he was sitting on one of the dining room chairs, slowly being tied up. Luo Binghe was close as he fastened the ties around his wrists. Too close. Not close enough.
God. Fuck his brain.
Shen Yuan watched him silently, unsure what to say, what to do, as the emotions stormed within him.
He felt angry.
He felt tired.
He felt betrayed.
“Are you going to kill me?” he found himself asking.
Luo Binghe paused for half a second, looking up through his lashes at Shen Yuan. Then, expression still carefully neutral, he looked back down and continued his task.
“No, A-Yuan, I’m not going to kill you.”
A frustrated tear fell fast down Shen Yuan’s cheek, and he blinked angrily to keep more from coming. He didn’t know what to think. And he didn’t know how to feel. The whole thing was frankly stupid and his even stupider heart hurt with an unbearable ache that clenched his throat and twisted his lungs.
Eventually, a pair of finger’s found his chin, gently lifting his face up. His eyes opened to see Luo Binghe watching him.
For several moments all Luo Binghe did was stare.
Then, amazingly, he smiled. Soft and fond as he reached over to wipe away Shen Yuan’s tears with a blood stained thumb.
Shen Yuan shuttered at the touch.
“Was it all fake?” he asked next, before he could stop himself. “Did you ever love me?”
Luo Binghe's fingers froze, and his smile faltered. Then, after a moment, he pulled away—expression a blank mask once more.
“I suppose I could ask you the same thing.”
“You’re a murderer,” Shen Yuan said, feeling hysteria threaten to rise from his chest. “You’re a murderer and I—was any of it real?”
Luo Binghe’s upper lip twitched, hinting at a snarl. “...You dare ask me that? After what you’ve done?”
“What do you mean, what I’ve done? You’re the one who—”
“You were going to leave me!” Luo Binghe suddenly thundered, his furious expression far from his previously come demeanor. “You were going to walk out that door knowing I would never see you again. You dare ask if I love you? If what I feel for you is real?”
“Binghe—”
“Shut up!” he seethed, chest heaving. “Just—shut up. ”
Silence echoed between them then—a weighted sound as Luo Binghe visibly struggled to smother his anger. A moment later he released a haggard sigh and rubbed his face.
“You know,” he began, calmer, but no less terrifying. “Sometimes I hate what I feel for you. I actually…I actually hate myself for loving you this much.”
Shen Yuan could only stare. Another tear fell unbidden.
Luo Binghe watched him in return, uncaring or unaware of the pain his words caused.
“Hating you would be simpler. Apathy? Apathy would be a fucking dream.”
“B—”
“Do you know why?”
Shen Yuan faltered, licked his lips. He tried to ignore the knife in his heart, twisting with each word. “No,” he croaked.
“The truth is that you would be better off with someone else. And I hate that I love you because I’m the type of person who would never let that happen.”
“I don’t—”
“Would you just—Quiet, A-Yuan. Please. Do you even understand what I’m telling you? Do you realize the position you’re in right now? The position I’ve put you in? You are never leaving, and I am never letting you go. The part of me that hates my feelings for you? Darling, it’s the only good in me.”
Shen Yuan stared, wide eyed up at his boyfriend, wordless.
Luo Binghe stared back, face void of expression, his eyes vacant.
Then, a moment later, his lips twitched.
“Well,” he said silkily, head tilting as he regarded Shen Yuan. “At least there’s a silver lining in all this.”
“...What?” Shen Yuan asked, because Luo Binghe seemed to be waiting for him to respond.
As afraid as he was, and as nervous as this side of Luo Binghe made him…Shen Yuan couldn’t help the sudden thought that this was probably going to become a thing in bed.
You know…if their relationship survived the kidnapping and murder.
Not that he wanted it to!
Fuck.
“I don’t have to pretend anymore.”
This had Shen Yuan blinking back to the present. “Pretend?” he echoed.
Luo Binghe folded his arms, one brow raised. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to be perfect for you? To make sure I didn’t ruin everything? How I had to hide myself every time we were together?”
What.
What.
Something in Shen Yuan snapped, pushing through the anger and fear and betrayal.
Something born of a three year relationship composed of domestic bickering and fond annoyances and indulgent, tiny grudges.
Something ripened by the irritation that arose when your partner was a creepy bastard but you loved him anyway.
“Perfect?” Shen Yuan sputtered. “What do you mean perfect? We’ve been together three years, Binghe. You think I don’t know what a nasty little creep you are? You’re controlling and possessive and a neat freak. You’ve never been perfect, not even when I thought you were!”
Luo Binghe narrowed his eyes. “If I showed even a hint of my true feelings, you would leave me in a second. So yes, I was perfect for you. How could you even begin to know—”
“I know you use my toothbrush when I’m not looking!”
Luo Binghe faltered. “That’s—that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“You have video surveillance in our bedroom!”
“What —”
“And I have my suspicions that you’ve spat in my soup multiple times.”
“That—”
“And knowing you that wasn’t the only substance!”
“...”
“...”
“Look. The point is—”
“No! The point is you need to stop acting like you’re some big mystery!” Shen Yuan hissed back, wiggling beneath the ropes. “You think I don’t know you? You think I don’t see who you really are? I know you! I know you better than—”
“I was going to kill you.”
Shen Yuan froze.
“When we first met. It was snowing in the park and you were sitting alone. I was planning to sit with you, buy you a coffee, and follow you home to slit your throat.”
“Wha—”
“See, that’s how I do it,” Luo Binghe said then, flashing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I get them to like me. Charm them. Butter them up. It’s easy enough at the end of the day. And once they do? Once I’m sure they think I’m their next best friend or next lover? I kill them.”
He took a step closer.
“Not always the same way. I like to keep it fresh. As an assassin, it’s always good to—”
Shen Yuan frowned. “Assassin?”
Luo Binghe blinked, seemingly confused at having his monologue interrupted. “Yes?”
“I thought you were a serial killer.”
“I suppose there’s not much difference in the end,” Luo Binghe mused, crossing his arms. “Though I do get paid for it. Or rather, I did. Before you put me into an early retirement.”
“Retirement?”
"Well, you kind of killed my former employer. Rumour has it you have a talent for scooping the wrong flavour of ice cream."
"Ah...well—wait, he was your boss?"
"Yes, Tianlang Jun. He was also my father, if you care to know."
"Oh god. Binghe I—I am so sorry."
"I'm not," Luo Binghe said simply. "I was due for a change. Besides, looking after you is a full time job, remember?"
"...Is this in reference to the fact that I didn't clean the toilet when you asked last week?"
The grin was back, but it was not pleasant. “You’re doing that thing again,” Luo Binghe said. “That thing where you’re so distractingly adorable that it takes away from the fact that I’m genuinely very upset with you. Furious, actually.”
“...Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.”
Luo Binghe took another step closer, until their legs brushed together and Shen Yuan had to look up, up, up.
“I’ll admit,” he began, “it is nice to hear you say all those fond words. To hear you say you know me, despite everything. Especially when it’s so difficult to get even the smallest bit of romance from you.”
“Wha—”
“Who knew I had to tie you up to do it?”
Shen Yuan shivered at the undertone of those words, all that silky charm that he was used to. This was definitely going to be a new bedroom thing…
“But, you see, if you really meant all that. If you really chose me… you wouldn’t have packed your bags to leave.”
Shen Yuan went still, watching his boyfriend carefully, aware of the fact that Luo Binghe’s agitation was increasing once more.
“Shen Yuan...you could do most anything to me, and I’d let you. Honestly, when it comes to you, there isn’t much I wouldn’t forgive.”
“Binghe—”
A finger, long and rough, stroked a line along Shen Yuan’s neck, just beneath his ears.
“You could ruin me,” Luo Binghe whispered like a secret. “I’d let you do it.”
“If you’d just—”
“And yet…and yet you were going to leave. Leave me. Leave us.” As Luo Binghe stared down at Shen Yuan, a cruelty grew in his gaze. “That I cannot forgive.”
“I wasn’t—I was—”
“You asked if I ever loved you?” Luo Binghe echoed, tone bland and eerily devoid of emotion. “Darling, by the end of this you’ll wish I didn’t.”
And then he turned away.
“Binghe, please. Would you just listen?”
Luo Binghe looked back, opening his mouth to respond—then suddenly froze, eyes darting up—
A crash resounded, glass exploding from the window.
Shen Yuan yelped, flinching in surprise. He turned behind him as best he could to see what caused the sound but, before he could come to a conclusion, he heard the dull sound of a body dropping to the ground.
Twisting back forward, he found Luo Binghe on his knees, a vicious snarl painting his features, a hand clutched to his side.
Blood—fresh this time—spilled from his fingers.
He’d been shot.
Shen Yuan screamed.
Blood spilled onto the carpet.
The apartment door made a loud crack, as though something heavy slammed into it. But Shen Yuan only had eyes for Luo Binghe, who was snarling furiously from his position on the ground.
“Binghe, what—!?”
The slamming at the door continued. The wood cracked, splintered.
“Binghe!!”
Shouting arose from outside, loud but muffled.
Another crack.
“Binghe!!”
The door broke, and Shen Yuan gasped as bodies shuffled in, running, shouting, guns in hand. They raced for Luo Binghe, slamming him down to the ground, who grunted at the impact.
“Don’t hurt him!” Shen Yuan screamed before he could help himself, struggling wildly against his bonds. “Please!”
Throughout the whole ordeal, those dark eyes never left his own, glaring back at him with furious determination.
Shen Yuan continued his futile attempts to reach him, till his skin was rubbed raw and red.
“Binghe!”
“Binghe!”
"BINGHE!!!!"
Something sharp was stabbed into his neck.
The last thing he saw was the vision of that burning glare, filled with unspoken promise.
And then everything went dark.
—————
They said it wasn’t his fault.
They said he was just a victim.
They said he could never have known.
They said it wasn’t love.
How could it be?
—————
The second time Shen Yuan was relocated—this time to keep him away from his obsessive (ex?) boyfriend who had recently escaped the authorities—he was sent somewhere warm. Somewhere the leaves had grown to their fullest, soaking up the rays from the over hot sun above. The pollen, rich from the abundant flowers and plants around him, irritated his nose and left it red and itchy and running.
Shen Yuan sneezed sadly.
Like the first time, he found himself feeling rather pessimistic.
And, of course, rather sullen.
And, as he sat on a different park bench, in a different part of the world, he found himself contemplating the consequences of serial homicide.
The usual consequences, anyway.
According to his father, who had been responsible for shooting his (ex?) boyfriend and the break-in at his apartment, over the course of their three year relationship, Luo Binghe had murdered everyone and anyone who had come after Shen Yuan.
Which was a bit weird considering he had been the first assassin hired to kill him.
And while it might arguably be a good thing that this assassin turned (ex?) boyfriend was taking care of other assassins, it turned out he had also been killing all the agents sent to protect Shen Yuan as well. Which, knowing Luo Binghe like he did—obsessive and controlling and needy—this was not entirely all that surprising.
Over the three years they’d been together, Luo Binghe had murdered over one hundred people.
And that was just what was recorded.
Shen Yuan sighed, rubbing tiredly at his face with the palm of one hand.
He was a moron.
An actual idiot.
Because, even now, he missed him.
Even now he was waiting.
—————
It was the fourth day after he’d been moved that it happened. His fourth time sitting alone at the park.
His fourth time waiting.
And it was about to be his fourth time being disappointed when—
“Hi,” said a voice, cheerful and warm. “Is this spot taken?”
Shen Yuan’s breath hitched, and he moved to spin around in his seat, but a tell-tale click stopped him in place. A moment later, the muzzle of a gun was pressed to the side of his head.
Shen Yuan froze.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” Luo Binghe began.
“Wha—?”
A hand clamped over his mouth, pulling his head back against a firm shoulder
The palm was clammy. Luo Binghe was shaking.
“You’re going to come with me. You’re not going to leave again. You’re going to choose me. Everything will be the same—Hrrk! Did you just slap me?”
Shen Yuan, who had indeed swung his arm back in attempt to smack Luo Binghe a good one, turned now to glare at his (ex?) boyfriend. Luo Binghe, in turn, stared at him with surprise from a tear stained face.
The sight, despite it all, made Shen Yuan smile.
“You’re late.”
Without another thought, he cupped that achingly familiar face and smashed their lips together. Luo Binghe made a noise of surprise, and Shen Yuan could taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips.
In response, he only deepened the kiss, pressing closer, closer, closer—until he was on his knees and the park bench pressed uncomfortably into his stomach.
But he refused to let go.
“I missed you,” he said when they finally broke for air.
Another kiss, pressed halfway on Luo Binghe’s lips.
“I forgive you.”
A third kiss to his cheek, damp with tears.
“I’m sorry.”
A fourth, to his nose. A fifth to his forehead.
“And I do choose you,” he added when he pulled away to look at his boyfriend. He smiled, somewhat ruefully, through his own brimming tears. “And I’m also totally going to pretend you didn’t threaten me just now.”
Luo Binghe watched him with a myriad of emotions, some sort of mix between surprise and awe, cautious hope and longing.
“You—“
Luo Binghe stopped himself. Opened his mouth, closed it again. Shen Yuan laughed as Luo Binghe finally sighed—a ragged sound—and fell to his knees with his head in his hands.
“I was ready to tie you up.”
“Ah…Maybe don’t tell me that.”
Luo Binghe laughed weakly. “I would do worse things to keep you. You should know that before you let me.”
Shen Yuan reached over to pull Luo Binghe up from his knees. When his (ex?) boyfriend finally looked up at him, damp faced and so uncertain—nothing like how he’d been that day—he took the chance to brush a strand of dark hair back from his forehead. Luo Binghe closed his eyes at the touch and Shen Yuan smiled.
“Are you giving me an out?”
“No. No, you’ve lost that chance,” Luo Binghe said. He at least sounded a bit apologetic as he said it.
Shen Yuan smiled. “Well, a life with you doesn’t seem so bad.”
“Do you still love me?” Luo Binghe asked quickly. “I know you—I mean. After everything…do you? Can you?”
“Would it make a difference if I didn’t?”
“No.”
Shen Yuan laughed at the candid answer. “Binghe, we already had this conversation. I already know you’re creepy. Maybe I didn’t know all of it. But I know you. And I love you anyway.”
“But—”
“I choose you.”
The hands gripped his waist tightened at this, trembled, then relaxed.
“...Yeah?”
Shen Yuan smiled.
“Yeah.”