Shen Yuan (peerlesscucumber)

"It isn't--anyone would, that's just objective--it's different," insists Shen Yuan, muffled in Binghe's chest. He can't get the picture out of his head--Binghe crammed under his desk in his bedroom, big hot mouth wrapped around--while Shen Yuan typed out his stupid angry screeds to Airplane--it should be ridiculous. It should be insane, the idea that Binghe could ever fit down there, with how tall he was, and the breadth of his shoulders. It should be laughable. Instead, Shen Yuan is horrified to feel himself getting a little hard again.