Shen Qingqiu pets Luo Binghe's head, cuddling closer. He knows Binghe means it, and that that part, even if nothing else, will remain true: now that they've slept together, in some small way Shen Qingqiu is his, even if not fully, even if not the way he would be if this were Proud Immortal Demon Way and if Shen Qingqiu were a woman. His to protect, and his--if he so chooses--to destroy.

"Thank you," he says, and it comes out a little thick--like this conversation matters more than just discussing hypothetical homophobia that will probably never touch him here, considering how gay everyone else is, and would never touch him anywhere else, either, because here is the only place he's done anything that could be considered gay. (He understands that maybe not everyone is familiar with the concept of BL pollen.)

There's so much more he should say. He needs to set some boundaries--explain that this was a wonderful experience but that he has to go back to being straight now, but can they please hang out for real this time--but he's so bone-deep tired, worn out by sex and laughter and the sudden hollowing return of shame, and Binghe is breathing so soft and sweet against his shoulder. So he just lets his eyes close, instead, running his fingers through Binghe's hair and selfishly basking in the experience, however brief, of being adored.