<blockquote>The weather on Qing Jing Peak was never just boring. It was either gloriously sunny, with a blazing blue sky and charming little birds twittering among the bamboo, or dramatically storming, rain pounding against the walls, the perfect backdrop for a furious confrontation or declaration of all-consuming love (read: lust). So when Shen Qingqiu woke up to a light, uninteresting drizzle falling from a dishwater sky, he knew instantly that something was wrong.
Binghe was plastered against his back, too big, too warm, his palm pressed to his chest over Shen Qingqiu’s heart as if needing, always, the confirmation that he was alive. Shen Qingqiu could feel his erection pressing against the curve of his lower back, knew that if he wanted to he could shift his hips, grind backwards, and Binghe would wake and be on him in moments, pulling the sleeping robes from his shoulders and latching his teeth into the column of Shen Qingqiu's throat, marking him, over and over, as his.
So that was all normal. There was something else, something more abstract, that was off.</blockquote>
➤ the one where sqq is forced into the realization that the plot is over, he now just...lives in a normal world with real actualized people around him, including both himself and binghe, and then has to handle this idea through the means of sexy roleplay because he he can't actually admit to himself that he can be a person with wants and desires and for that to be okay; it's both very funny and very tender
