Chapter Text
When they were thirteen Binghe called out “Yuan-er” as he held a bag of loquats, fresh from the market, his trembling hands holding them out for Shen Yuan to taste, like he was scared Shen Yuan wouldn’t take them.
They tasted sweet and sour in his mouth, his teeth breaking through the thin skin to consume soft insides.
…
When Shen Yuan was fourteen Binghe sang “Yuan-er” with more confidence as he held a gift behind his back. Shen Yuan stared at him unamused until Binghe, laughed and helplessly handed over a travel novel, unwilling to deprive Shen Yuan from something Shen Yuan wanted.
“Binghe”, Shen Yuan called back with excitement as he snatched the novel from his…his Binghe’s hands. He always found the best things for Shen Yuan to read; this looked like the continuation of the ramblings of a brilliant but lunatic botanist who documented his findings in great detail in the form of travel notes
“I’m happy you like it,” Binghe said, his voice gentle as he ushered Shen Yuan to sit by the table of the garden they found themselves in. Binghe had made a habit of sneaking inside Shen Yuan’s courtyard to see him.
Shen Yuan’s eyes remained glued to the text as he opened it and started reading, trusting Binghe to catch him if he tripped in his distraction.
…
When Shen Yuan was fifteen Binghe crooned out “Yuan-er” as he slid one more gold hairpin into Shen Yuan’s elaborate hairstyle. “Beautiful,” Binghe whispered into Shen Yuan’s ear.
Shen Yuan blushed, his cheeks coloring sweetly like cinnabar or red apples, ripe and ready for harvest.
…
When Shen Yuan was sixteen Binghe’s honored parents, people Shen Yuan had seen for scant moments during marriage negotiations and garden viewing parties, died. A bandit attack combined with a bad storm, ending with a carriage that went off the side of a cliff. An unlucky series of events for a couple who was coming back from a pilgrimage to some temple in the West. Shen Yuan’s wedding was postponed so that Binghe, as the first born and only son, could observe mourning for a full three years.
Shen Yuan’s mother, when she heard the news, sent her condolences in public and bit her handkerchief in private. She hoped that Binghe would still marry Shen Yuan after 3 years of mourning and worried about what would happen if Luo Binghe, without the pressure of his parents, changed his mind and Shen Yuan became one of the “left-overs” in his generation.
“Men in mourning can’t be trusted”, his “mother” muttered into her tea, her hand holding the cup with a grip so tight Shen Yuan feared the cup would crack.
“They go to brothels, smoke opium, and marry concubines by the dozen. Bai Chen ruined himself and strung along that poor Yu girl only to leave her unmarried at twenty-one. Her family sent her to be a nun, thankfully, but she could have had a great marriage…now the best she can hope for is the temple”.
Shen Yuan wasn’t sure how thankful that was but he held his tongue, gently arranging his skirts. He knew better to ask why she didn’t just break his engagement if she was so worried, not that he wanted her to, but still…
It would be much harder to arrange a good match if a first, long standing one fell through. It reminded Shen Yuan of Granny Mu’s second daughter-in-law whose initial match died, leaving her “older” and unsuitable for anything but questionable matches or second marriages. It was deeply unfair but a reality of the world he lived in.
In other moments his mother was happy that if Shen Yuan married Luo Binghe, despite the wait, Shen Yuan wouldn’t have a mother in law.
His “mother” slammed her teacup onto the table and said, “Before your honored grandmother died life was very different. Lucky is a wife who enters an empty house, do not listen to anyone saying otherwise they want you miserable or want Duke Luo for themselves. Unlucky… hah ….most of them wish for such misfortune”.
“Of course A’Niang”.
And Shen Yuan…Shen Yuan didn’t know how he felt about the wait. He was fairly sure he wasn’t disappointed, that feeling in the pit of his stomach and his throat was indigestion, it had to be.
He sipped his tea before setting it down and moving to refill his mother’s cup.
…
When Shen Yuan was seventeen a servant “accidentally” startled Binghe’s horse during a race, days before Binghe made his way to Shen Yuan. Over the table in Shen Yuan’s parlor, Shen Yuan slid over a box containing a dagger he had commissioned towards Binghe. Shen Yuan hid behind his fan but he watched intently as Binghe tested the blade against own thumb, watching the blood well up.
“Thank you,” Binghe replied, his eyes never leaving Shen Yuan, oddly intense.
Shen Yuan looked down at the bracelet on his wrist made from their entwined hair and said, “...Stay safe…I don’t want to be a widow before we even marry”.
Binghe’s smile lit up his face.
…
When Shen Yuan was eighteen they went to the Lantern festival.
Luo Binghe’s face was split into a boyish grin, “Yuan-er” he crooned, careful to help Shen Yuan out of the carriage. He’d invited Shen Yuan to the annual Lantern Festival months before, going through the proper channels, a letter bearing his seal asking Shen Yuan’s “parents” and then Shen Yuan about his availability.
A’Tan and a handful of serving maids followed as chaperones but made themselves inconspicuous. All of them paid enough on the side to not report the overly familiar address of “Yuan-er”.
Too many meetings with one's intended spouse was frowned upon, rumors of being deflowered spawning with relative ease, though, provided there was a marriage to be, usually no one made much of it. Too few meetings, and the marriage was seen as cordially arranged.
Binghe was getting taller every year, almost an adult by Shen Yuan’s standards. He stood head and shoulders above him, with scant baby fat clinging to his cheeks. His hands were calloused now, Shen Yuan noticed as they began to walk through the well lit streets.
“I reserved a table at The Golden Turtle,” Binghe said, carefully leading Shen Yuan through the streets, “In case you don’t find the street vendors as interesting as you did the previous year. I thought we’d go to the puppet show first. This year a troupe from the North came, and I’ve heard their costumes are novel”.
Shen Yuan squeezed the hand holding his and hid a smile behind a fan. Binghe was the only person in his life who accommodated his interest in trying street food, planned a back-up with his favorite restaurant in case his stomach turned or he didn’t like selection, and took every interesting thing he thought Shen Yuan would like right to Shen Yuan. If he had his choice of who he’d want to marry in this ancient world it would be Binghe every time. This boy with a sweet smile, careful hands, and careful plans.
“Can I have some tang-hulu?” Shen Yuan asked, spotting one of the many vendors in the streets.
“I thought you’d start off with some of the meat skewers, or tofu brains? Granny Mu came out with her daughter-in-law,” Binghe replied.
“I thought Granny Mu put away her meat skewer business? She has a new daughter-in-law? Didn’t the last one just die?”
“She’s still selling during festivals, and her son remarried”.
Whatever Shen Yuan thought about Granny Mu’s son, he also loved Granny Mu’s meat skewers. The sauce was sweet and spicy and just right. Tang-hulu could wait.
Shen Yuan didn’t ask but Binghe knew him enough to know that he’d want to know, “She’s a young lady whose marriage was put off a few years, her husband-to-be passed away and as you know Granny Mu’s previous daughter-in-law died this winter from a cold. Her family had been expecting a hefty dowry, she was engaged to the second son of the clothing shop, the one beside your favorite pastry shop.”
Shen Yuan let the gossip wash over him as Binghe told him this and that about people he saw every once in a while, keeping him abreast of the outside world.
When Binghe let go of his hand he immediately placed it on Shen Yuan’s lower back. Binghe’s hot palm felt like it was burning him through the cloth. The scent of something fresh like pine and cleanliness, wafted from his shoulders and Shen Yuan once more thought, if he had to marry anyone it would be Binghe.
He remembered when they first met, Binghe had been thirteen and wide-eyed. A blushing, stuttering mess of a boy. Shen Yuan thought he was adorable. He loved the young man he was becoming too.
It almost broke his heart to think of the inevitable concubines he’d have to share Binghe with. He supposed he’d better appreciate the moments he had and the care he received in the moments he received it.
He didn’t hold to any delusion that there wouldn’t be wives after him. He just hoped that the starry-eyed boy inside the man survived.
“Does Binghe have anything he’d like to eat?” Shen Yuan interrupted to ask, brushing off his thoughts with practiced ease. If Binghe said “nothing”, he’d direct them to the place around the corner that sold dragon’s beard candy. It was one of the few sweets Binghe actually liked.
….
The wedding, when it came, was a massive affair, and Binghe clearly made sure that everyone knew Duke Luo was satisfied with his match. However, despite the honor of a large wedding, Shen Yuan would be happiest when everything was over. He’d spent the day nibbling on the food, s itting behind his screen and nibbling on the food A'Tan and Binghe's own servants had brought him as the celebration went on"
One of Binghe’s young servants even brought him a miniature travel journal that was clearly made so that it could be tucked into his sleeve. It allowed him to maintain the appearance of propriety and still be entertained while playing the role of a demure bride hidden behind a silk screen for the majority of the celebration. Shen Yuan wondered if it had been made specially for him, Binghe pushing a scribe to create something entertaining and portable or if it was a fortuitous find. It certainly helped the wait.
He could only come out during the bows before he’d be relegated to the bridal chamber while the party continued.
Hours later he heard footsteps approach their door. He’d know the sound of that walk anywhere but perhaps that was his sentiment playing tricks on him and it was just a servant. His musings broke as Binghe entered the room, a vision in red, made obscure by the veil over Shen Yuan’s aching head. The sheer weight of the hairpins was intolerable.
“I’m sorry the festivities took so long,” Binghe whispered as though he were afraid Shen Yuan would startle.
“It’s fine,” Shen Yuan whispered back “Weddings always take forever”. It would feel strange to speak normally.
“I wish I could have spent these hours with you,” Binghe replied as he walked forward.
“May I?” He asked, gesturing to Shen Yuan’s veil and what could Shen do but nod?
Shen Yuan’s head felt heavy as Binghe lifted his veil, the pearl-drop that hung from a gold chain to dangle at the center of his hairline trembled with each breath.
“Yuan-er is so beautiful,” Binghe said, carefully cupping his cheek with a calloused palm. His own face was slightly flushed from excitement or the wine he’d been plied with, Shen Yuan didn’t know.
A thumb dragged down Shen Yuan’s plush bottom lip, “So soft,” Binghe breathed out.
Gently, Binghe removed his hand and the veil completely. Shen Yuan closed his eyes and stayed seated as Binghe removed hairpin after hairpin, carefully massaging Shen Yuan’s scalp a bit before Binghe once more cupped his cheek.
“My wife is a great beauty, this husband does not know what deeds he did in his last life to deserve you.”
Shen Yuan tried to tuck his face into the palm that held his cheek, too embarrassed to say anything. He looked like himself and he was no great beauty but to Binghe…well…Binghe had always liked how he looked. Since they were children. He also held back laughter at the thought of the life Shen Yuan suspected a version of Luo Binghe to have lived. You were a Demon Emperor in another life, he didn’t say. Though he wasn’t sure if that was meant to accrue blessings or resentment, he was sure that Duke Luo would live. The sole surviving member of the Luo family. The protagonist.
“So shy?” Binghe chuckled, “That doesn’t matter, I’ll take care of you.”
Gently, ever so gently, his robes were peeled back exposing a body Shen Yuan didn’t think of regularly save the first year where he had to adjust to the maids helping him bathe.
Binghe’s gaze burned into him and reached both hands down to press against Shen Yuan’s chest and grope it the same way someone might grope a woman’s breast before he trailed down to circle Shen Yuan’s ribs, his thumbs pressing into Shen Yuan’s nipples.
Shen Yuan yelped as Binghe drew gentle circles in sensitive flesh, Shen Yuan’s nipples hardening and plumping under his ministrations.
“My wife has such pretty breasts,” Binghe stated leaning down to press a kiss against Shen Yuan’s forehead as he squirmed, heat building in his belly. Luo Binghe took away his hands for a moment only to scoop Shen Yuan up and bring him to their marriage bed, careless tossing his own guan behind him and untying the front of his robes.
“Pretty,” Binghe cooed before he leaned down to take one plump nipple into his mouth. Shen Yuan yelped and clung to his newfound husband’s hair. Why were they so sensitive? A flush of humiliation ran through him but he pushed it aside. He was, after all Binghe’s wife now.
Luo Binghe’s fascination with his chest didn’t abate, as the man plucked and played with him until he ached.
“Binghe, Binghe stop,” he called out in a breathy whine, tugging at Binghe’s curls.
Binghe pinched his right nipple, carefully tugging the flesh upwards, “Why? Yuan-er likes it and they’re beautiful.”
Shen Yuan looked to the side ignoring the man as he kissed his way down Shen Yuan’s belly. The maids hadn’t put him in a dudou tonight, giggling about how he wouldn’t need it and it seemed they were right.
Parting more ties, Binghe gained access to the crux of Shen Yuan’s thighs and there he inhaled sharply before blurting out, “I knew you’d be small but not like this… Yuan-er is so delicate, even here. So sweet and pink, like a freshly peeled lychee.”
Shen Yuan wanted to die a little, because he was pretty sure his cock was the same length it was in his original life and while it wasn’t massive it wasn’t… it wasn’t a fucking delicate fruit, it was serviceable….but not according to Binghe’s standards, apparently?
“It’s not that small,” Shen Yuan huffed and Binghe chuckled at him patronizingly, the smug ass.
His husband sat up between his spread thighs and tugged out his own pillar massive, thick, and red veined. Binghe smiled dotingly as he rubbed the engorged head against Shen Yuan’s cock, barely a fraction of the size, significantly lacking in bulging veins, and rocked them together.
“Yuan-er is pretty everywhere,” Binghe declared, focusing on the contrast of their pillars. Shen Yuan’s delicate jade stamen engulfed by the monster-dick Shen Yuan did not know Binghe was packing. Well…he suspected but still, clearly Binghe’s standards were bullshit.
“That won’t fit,” Shen Yuan blurted out. He’d never been more confident of anything in his life. He’d also never cursed himself out for sounding more like the virgin on his wedding night he was.
Binghe chuckled again, “Yuan-er was made to take me, it might ache a bit at first but you’ll be fine… if it truly is too much we can stop at any time.”
Which meant they were trying unless Shen Yuan threw a bigger fit right now and that wouldn't put off the fact that they’d have to do this at some point. Closing his eyes he exhaled and tried to remind himself that this shitty web novel should make things fine. No one’s guts literally spilled out in web novel sex scenes. At least not in the genre he was pretty sure he was in.
“...Slowly.” He grudgingly agreed.
Binghe leaned down to kiss his lips, his tongue parting Shen Yuan’s mouth as he plundered inside. Shen Yuan could feel Binghe grind against him, thick precum spilling onto Shen Yuan’s groin, the rasp of Binghe’s public hair scraping against sensitive skin.
Shen Yuan swore he saw the galaxy in Binghe’s eyes.
“Yuan-er needs to spread his legs,” Binghe ordered, helping him raise his knees and settle so the tip of his cock rubbed against slick folds. An uncomfortable warm feeling built in Shen Yuan’s lower stomach and he felt… he felt something.
His toes curled as Binghe grasped his pillar and traced his entrance. “Does Yuan-er want his husband to claim his maidenhead?”
Shen Yuan wanted to throw something at him, what maidenhead? What… did Binghe really want him to admit that he wanted this? That he was, indeed, as they all knew Binghe’s precious virginal bride surrendering his body to his husband? He saw the determined look in Binghe’s eyes and felt the grip of his hands, one on his waist the other petting one of Shen Yuan’s knees.
He assumed the flush on his face couldn’t get brighter but it felt like it did, like a sunburn, as the rocking of Binghe’s cock sent sparks up his belly each time the tip slid over a sensitive area.
Gritting his teeth he nodded and looked to the side, unable to get away but at least he could stop looking at the man above him, his husband. He wasn’t saying it, a nod was all he’d give.
“Yuan-er is so perfect for me, thank you for letting your husband know you want him, that you want him to have your maidenhead. This husband is grateful for such a gift, such a perfect bride”.
That wasn’t at all what Shen Yuan said! In fact, he didn’t say shit. Plausible deniability and all that. Urgh, whatever, it didn’t matter at this point, whatever Binghe had to say to get them through this. Shen Yuan squirmed in place and clung to the sheets on either side of his head, still looking away.
Binghe leaned over, removing one hand from his waist to turn Shen Yuan’s head before pressing his lips onto Shen Yuan’s and snapping his hips forward in one fluid motion.
“Ahh,” Shen Yuan gasped into Binghe’s mouth, his hands moving from the sheets to Binghe’s shoulders, his nails digging into the flesh as struggled to stop the kiss to gather some air. Binghe pulled back his mouth but stayed rooted deep inside him.
Shen Yuan took in a gulp of air and bit his lip to stop the sounds from coming out. A small hiccuping-half sob left him despite the fact that it wasn’t really all that bad. It had felt like a sharp piercing pain that was still fading into an ache but the sudden-ness of it all caught him off guard.
His arms trembled as he flexed his claiming hands and took in air.
“Shhh, shhh Yuan-er you’re doing so well,” Binghe crooned, nuzzling his face, rubbing their noses together and pressing soft kisses to his cheeks. “My wife is so brave, so perfect, taking me in”.
Shen Yuan wanted to laugh but didn’t, instead closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of Binghe’s hands, gently petting any part of him they could reach, of his plush mouth carefully pressing against him.
Of his voice murmuring sweet nothings at him, and the soft noises he was making as though calming a startled child.
A few tears spilled down Shen Yuan’s cheeks and Binghe moved to lap them up with his tongue, “My brave, sweet Yuan-er, so good for me,” he murmured.
Leaning up a touch, Binghe pushed Shen Yuan’s sweaty hair from his forehead, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay…. I think….It doesn’t hurt much anymore”.
“That’s good,” Binghe replied, “We can stay like this as long as you need”.
That being said he sat up more fully and Shen Yuan hissed at the change in posture.
“Sorry bao-bei, I do need to do one thing,” Binge reassured.
Shen Yuan stared in confusion before spotting the handkerchief Binghe was bringing towards the crux of their thighs. It must have been shoved under a pillow.
Shen Yuan watched as Binghe’s gaze turned sharp and hungry as the man leaned down to gently pat at the place his cock entered Shen Yuan, bright red blood stains transferring to the handkerchief.
Shen Yuan focused on the ache, the feeling of Binghe’s cock swelling inside him, and the feeling of being stuffed to the brim instead of reconciling to the fact that the servants would spread the word that he had been a virginal bride on his wedding day. A confirmation of an established belief.
Binghe then took the bottom of the sheets under them but not the edge and did the same, making sure there’d be some traces on the blankets. The handkerchief would have been presented to an old servant and then the parents, if Binghe’s parents had lived, and the sheets were for the servants to gawk over.
Shen Yuan felt the pillar inside him throb, a clear indication that Binghe was enjoying the sight.
Binghe folded the handkerchief and placed it to the side, somewhere above Shen Yuan’s head, staying inside him the entire time.
Shen Yuan felt like a butterfly pinned under glass, like an animal being butchered as Binghe stared down at him, hungry and waiting. One of Binghe’s massive hands pressed down on his stomach gently and Shen Yuan cried out, “Ah,” as he felt the cock inside him throb at the contact from the outside, at his angle, and with Binghe blocking him, he couldn’t quite see but he’d be willing to bet his belly was distorted from the shape and size of his husband’s cock.
Shen Yuan’s hands which had fallen off Binghe’s shoulders at some point in all of Binghe’s movements once more found the sheets and gripped them tight. The candles gave a soft ambiance to the room, and Shen Yuan’s eyes struggled to focus as he gazed intently at Binghe’s face. A realization came over him, like pieces of a puzzle slotting together.
He could feel the slick and blood running down his trembling thighs, his own cock standing at half mast, and with downturned eyes, Shen Yuan whispered, “Binghe can start moving now.”
He wondered if this was what it was like to agree to set himself on fire. As Binghe moved, Shen Yuan burned.
…
Shen Yuan woke up the next morning pressed to Binghe’s chest, his cheek resting on solid muscle. Blearily nuzzling closer he sank deeper into the hold.
Absently he categorized his sore back and clean nightclothes. He certainly hadn’t been the one to change himself so that meant his now husband did it for him. How sweet.
Shifting his legs, he hissed at the residual soreness.
He felt Binghe pat his back gently, and finally titled his head up to see Binghe’s eyes, open and aware, gazing down at him with adoration.
“Good morning,” Shen Yuan whispered.
“Good morning,” Binghe whispered back.
…
Life as Madam Luo wasn’t too bad, Shen Yuan had to say, as he luxuriated on a daybed.
A’Tan was to his right, fanning him with two other servant girls, a bucket of ice cooling the heat of summer in front of him.
He had no in-laws to respect and more freedom than he ever had in his natal home to spend his days sprawled out, reading books that had the literary merit of a piece of firewood. He could walk anywhere in the compound without bowing respectfully to his parents or brothers. He had been given pretty immediate control over the household expenses which were already accurate but Shen Yuan strove to improve them as best he could with whatever modern knowledge of accounting he recalled.
His attire was significantly more sumptuous, which was, perhaps, the only downside, but Binghe made such sad puppy-dog eyes in his direction when he tried to wear simpler clothing.
The man had purchased rolls of brocade and colorful silk in preparation for their marriage, alongside whatever Binghe’s own mother had set aside as part of the bride price from her collection, and whatever Binghe’s paternal grandmother had set aside from the family coffers. Shen Yuan had to try very hard to ignore the malevolently glowing sword that was not at all inconspicuously tucked in a corner of the treasure room while Binghe showed him the tasteful heirlooms inherited from her. He ignored it, much like he ignored certain birthmarks that Binghe let slip during their nights.
“Yuan-er deserves the highest respect,” Binghe had replied, showing him several chests worth of clothing made to measurements Binghe shouldn’t have had. That was likely A’Tan’s doing.
So here Shen Yuan lay on his daybed, swathed in a light pink confection of a ru-qin and gauze over-robe. Butterflies and peach blossoms were embroidered all along the skirt. The bu-yao in his hair shook gently in the manufactured wind and the jade bangles on his wrists made clear, high, tinkling sounds as whenever he moved.
He’d enjoy every day like this, that he could before he had to deal with the inevitable introduction of concubines. That likely wouldn’t happen yet. Until he had his first child, at least, and maybe not even for several years after.
Binghe always told him that Shen Yuan was enough but he hadn’t seen this world or witnessed Shen Yuan age. History told him that Binghe would get tired or he’d find a fainting maiden in need of help. Binghe hadn’t ever been mocked in court for being afraid of his wife, or faced jeers from his peer group. Shen Yuan could only await the inevitable no matter what Binghe said. No matter if this Binghe was also that Binghe…it was inevitable.
Shen Yuan sighed and ordered the servants to bring him some tang-hulu from a shop in the city. Something sweet and sour for his tongue to match his thoughts.
…
When the seasons changed from summer to winter to spring once more, the Emperor called for Binghe to leave for the border to serve as a General in the army as his father once had. Shen Yuan saw his husband off, a caravan filled with supplies and a skeleton crew of soldiers at their door.
“Be safe Binghe, don’t take any risks and come back to me. No matter what you do, come back to me” Shen Yuan repeated for what felt like the fiftieth time.
Shen Yuan’s hands flushed over the collar of Binghe’s han-fu and his fingers trembled. Binghe would be okay, he had to be okay. Shen Yuan knew Binghe would be okay but still, he worried. What if something went wrong, what if Binghe failed to account for something, what if he was poisoned in his bed? And if he didn’t, what if he still faced starvation and exposure to the elements?
“Yuan-er,” Binghe crooned out, grasping Shen Yuan’s fingers with his calloused hands, engulfing Shen Yuan’s hands with his own.
“Yuan-er, I’ll be safe. I’ll come home. I promise.”
Shen Yuan nodded, his lips pursed tightly together so he could maintain some form of dignity.
Binghe stepped closer to him, let go of his hands and encircled his waist, pressing him close.
“Binghe,” Shen Yuan hissed out, mindful of the eyes on them.
“Yuan-er shouldn’t mind what the servants think. Yuan-er should focus on me instead,” Binghe teased.
“Binghe should mind propriety,” Shen Yuan chided back.
Binghe laughed and leaned down to press his lips to Shen Yuan’s forehead and kept them there. Holding them still for a moment that felt like hours. The soft, dry skin of Binghe’s lips felt like a brand. Shen Yuan’s shoulders shuddered and he shut his eyes, willing himself not to cry.
…
When Binghe returned a year later, it was to raucous festival sounds from the city and a trail of victories under his belt.
Shen Yuan had the estate clean and ready, before he stepped foot through the door. Binghe’s letters, though infrequent, let Shen Yuan know he’d be back.
Shen Yuan dressed himself, sumptuously as preferred by his husband, carefully layering soft green, embroidered with yellow flowers before he stood in their courtyard.
When the doorman opened the gates and Binghe came through on his stallion Shen Yuan waited patiently and did not run. He clenched his fists under his long sleeves.
Gone was the young boy, and in his place stood a man.
Binghe was taller somehow, no more baby fat on his face and he looked… weathered. Dangerous. A broad smile filled his charming face and Binghe, unlike Shen Yuan, chose to dismount quickly, passing the reins of his ornery horse to a footman before making quick strides to where Shen Yuan stood.
“Wife,” Binghe called as he pulled Shen Yuan to his chest, cradling him close, “Wife, my Yuan-er, you’ve grown”.
Shen Yuan really hadn’t. Binghe was the one who had grown and Shen Yuan knew that Binghe hadn’t changed in any way that mattered. That his changes were just physical but it still hit him like a weight to the chest. He had not seen his husband for a year.
Binghe swept Shen Yuan up, off his feet and nuzzled his hair, inhaling the scent of the jasmine oil Shen Yuan’s maids combed into his hair deeply.
“You’re the one who grew taller Bing-er,” Shen Yuan replied, not bothering to chide Binghe for lifting him in daylight, in full sight of the courtyard and partially open door. Shen Yuan spotted a vendor or two gawking from the road and hid his face in Binghe’s shoulder.
“Bing-er?” Binghe replied, “Is that what I am to you Shen Yuan? Your Bing-er?”
“Mmmn,” Shen Yuan agreed.
…
“Wife, wife, my precious little wife,” Binghe chanted to the beat of his hips as they thrust inside of Shen Yuan.
“Mine, all mine,” He repeated, a hungry, starved look on his face that probably should have scared Shen Yuan but didn’t.
Shen Yuan smiled and reached a trembling hand up to touch Binghe’s cheek, “Yours,” he agreed.
“I should have never left,” Binghe complained, “I should have just moved us to a smaller village, so stupid, why did I choose this?”
Shen Yuan laughed and played along, “Binghe can’t say no to the Emperor”.
Binghe’s eyes went dark for a moment before he refocused on the person below him, “Yuan-er deserves more than an absent husband.”
Shen Yuan would have to deal with this, he noted, before being swept away by Binghe’s passion.
…
Shen Yuan watched as Binghe prowled through their estate and carefully didn’t mention the men he saw meeting with Binghe at night.
While he did benefit from the trappings of nobility Shen Yuan had a suspicion that he wouldn’t enjoy being on a higher dais than he already was on. While he wasn’t… entirely… sure what Binghe was doing… he at least wanted to talk about it. Ok, so maybe he had a good idea, but still.
Nervously, Shen Yuan plucked at the sleeve of Binghe’s sleeping attire. Binghe’s arms, as usual, were wrapped around him tightly.
“Binghe… Binghe doesn’t have to do all this,” Shen Yuan muttered.
Binghe, ever attentive to Shen Yuan’s needs replied, “Do what?”
Shen Yuan barreled forward, “I mean… you know… Binghe is already an Emperor, just not here … I really don’t think you want to—”
“What does Yuan-er mean by that?” Binghe snapped, the arms around him tightening, almost painfully.
“Did you know that you have Xin Mo in the coffers? It glows. And when we… when we’re together at night your huadian does as well.”
“Oh?” Binghe intoned, his grip refusing to loosen, not that Shen Yuan was fighting it.
“And your name is literally Luo Binghe and at first I thought it was a coincidence or you were some other Luo Binghe but you heal from wounds you shouldn’t, you’re stronger and faster than you should be, your claws don’t always retract and you have fangs and I don’t… I don’t know why I’m here and why you… you want me and for what… but I don’t think a second life ruling over a land you don’t even want is the answer unless I’m missing something here?”
“...You knew?” Binghe said.
Shen Yuan nodded and kept going, his hands still picking at the sleeves of Binghe’s attire aimlessly, “It’s not like you were hiding it well”.
“Yuan-er knew and said nothing?”
“... I… yes, that’s… was I supposed to say something? I don’t…”
“This Lord, this husband, forced you into this marriage and that’s all Yuan-er has to say?”
“You didn’t force me into—”
“Yuan-er thinks he’d be in this world if this Lord didn’t will it?”
Shen Yuan could feel Binghe’s breath and that was… that was new information, he always assumed he was some kind of coincidence?
“You chose this? You—why did you even want me? I’m nobody? You had so many wives, and well—not all of them were great but… but I’m just… I’m nobody , nothing special and you chose… why?”
Shen Yuan shuddered with confusion, not knowing if he wanted to lean back or forward. This made no sense. A core unchanging reality of his world was that eventually Binghe would find others.
Binghe was quiet for a beat or two before he forcefully turned Shen over to face him, his huadian glowing in the moonlight, “...I stole you from your world, I put you in this body, I brought you to this world and had be you my bride… and your complaint is that I should have chosen better?”
Shen Yuan blinked in confusion, “Yes?”
What was he meant to be upset about? Really? Binghe was a great husband, kind, considerate, and the sweetest person Shen Yuan knew. He was interested in Shen Yuan’s hobbies, saw to his needs with exacting standards, and even if he didn’t love Shen Yuan…he cared. He cared so much.
It wasn’t exactly the life Shen Yuan saw for himself once upon a time but people didn’t really plan for this kind of thing.
“Yuan-er, Shen Yuan,” Binghe repeated a bit hysterically in Shen Yuan’s opinion, “I put that tight little cunt between your legs. You can’t own property in this place, you have no choice but to depend on your husband, on me, you cannot work as a noblewoman, how are you not furious at me, not disappointed? I took everything from you.”
Shen Yuan blushed at the crude language. “Binghe likes women, so I guess the…”, Shen Yuan didn’t finish the sentence, “makes sense. Honestly, I think Binghe is over estimating how much I did or didn’t do in my original world… I mean I miss the internet but it’s not like I had a career or even a job, or something like that. I… I don’t really think Binghe took much from me, and you gave me a lot more than you took.”
Binghe sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still wild.
“I mean, I get that eventually I’ll be part of a larger harem and I’m not happy about that… at all… but I know Binghe cares for me…” Here Shen Yuan’s voice started to shake. He actually, really wasn’t okay with that but Binghe had a harem before him so Shen Yuan would just have to cope.
Binghe started to pull at his hair and laugh hysterically, his teeth bared. It bordered on a panic attack as the man started rocking back and forth a bit.
“You think I don’t love you?” Binghe roared.
Shen Yuan flinched, “I… I think Binghe cares a lot and—”
“It was you, it was always you, it was only ever you. I chose you, not anyone else. Plucked you from your bed. How do you not understand? In every world, and I looked—there is no harem, not after they tried to kill me—every world,” Binghe’s tears turned to sobbing, “You are the only thing that ever made me happy. I didn’t… I needed you. I need you . I will always need you.”
Shen Yuan… didn’t know what to do with the sensation of cotton in his throat or the deep relief that he wouldn’t be trading snide remarks with Xiao Gongzhu, it warred with the ominous implications of how exactly he ended up in ancient sort-of-China… but he did want to hold his stupid, awful, husband.
“I… Binghe is the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you”.
Binghe flinched as though he’d been hit. His body fully curled up, his arms around his knees and he kept sobbing.
“I was going to erase your memory,” he choked out.
Which… well… that wasn’t great, but Shen Yuan was surprised? No. Binghe was incredibly controlling. This melt-down was proof.
“I don’t think you’re horrible. I think you think you’re horrible and that you think I should think that as well. I don’t”.
“How?” Binghe howled out.
Shen Yuan scooted closer and moved to put his arms around Binghe, who flinched before relaxing, “I don’t really care that I can’t leave the estate without escort. I don’t care that your answer to getting me to marry you was… this. I… I think I would have loved you no matter what, but for the record… you could have just asked . People do that you know? They ask. I’m pretty sure I would have jumped at the chance to help Luo Binghe or to be around him… and I don’t know how anyone could stop from falling in love with you.”
Binghe laughed again from his weird little upright shrimp position. He was a large man, so Shen Yuan’s attempt at hugging him wasn't working out the best but he was trying.
Binghe looked up, tears streaking his impossibly handsome face, “Yuan-er should know that’s not true”.
“Then they were stupid,” Shen Yuan replied. He brought up one hand to wipe at Binghe’s tears.
“I love you,” Shen Yuan said once more, staring right at Binghe and hoping his impossible husband would see that it was true.
“I love you and also, please don’t kill the Emperor… if you want we can leave this world and go somewhere else so you don’t have to go to war for him… but I… uh… don’t want to deal with all the royalty nonsense as an Empress or concubine—”
“Empress, you’d be, you are an Empress. There is no one but Yuan-er and there never will be,” Binghe snapped.
“Empress. I don’t want it…” Shen Yuan shrugged before gently stroking his husband's cheeks with his sleeves, mopping up the tears.
Binghe sniffled before pouting, “...Yuan-er isn’t mad I married him?”
Shen Yuan pressed his finger to Binghe’s reddened nose, “No”.
Binghe’s eyes crossed as he tried to look at the slender digit on his face.
“Yuan-er is sure he’s not mad?” Binghe repeated.
“No,” Shen Yuan replied, rolling his eyes.
“Yuan-er will still be my wife?”
Where exactly was Shen Yuan meant to go? Also that was a bullshit question because it’s not like Binghe would take no for an answer. But fine, he’d entertained his husband’s nonsense this far, “Yes, I’ll still be Binghe’s wife.”
“I won’t kill the Emperor,” Binghe acquiesced.
“Thank you”.
“Even if he’s stupid”.
“Mnn”.
“And couldn’t understand a proper trade agreement if it smacked him in the face”.
“Binghe”.
Binghe huffed but moved to lay down again, gathering Shen Yuan into his arms possessively.
“I’m just saying I’d do a better job—".
“Binghe!”
Somehow, as Shen Yuan snuggled into Binghe’s chest, somehow he knew everything would be just fine.