When you skate, you become as free as a bird…

Luo Binghe takes a deep breath before leaping…and lands perfectly on his toes before spinning so fast it would make an untrained person dizzy for days. Leaning into the momentum of his spin, Luo Binghe slowly bends his body, lifting one of his legs and reaching for it with his arms. The stretch of his muscles feels welcome after not practicing for a few days. The start of the semester is always a little hectic. And he’d almost encountered a problem when it came to registering for classes. 

Luckily, his status as one of the university’s star athletes helped him get what he wanted. He turns out of his spin with a smile on his face, glancing at the clock outside the rink. The relaxation he finds in skating wears off when he realizes what time it is. Shit, I’m going to be late! 

Luo Binghe quickly makes his way to the edge of the rink. He makes quick work of taking his skates off and putting on his tennis shoes. He’d originally planned to change out of his practice gear before the class, but if he doesn’t want to be a minute later, he has to go now . He ignores the shouts from the coach as he gathers his bags and books it out of the ice rink. 

Luckily, the ice rink isn’t far from the mathematics building. By the time he’s outside of the lecture hall door, Luo Binghe is slightly out of breath. He quickly calms his breathing and fixes his hair into a neater bun at the top of his head, before opening the door. 

As expected, everyone turns to look at him, including him . Luo Binghe feels his cheeks heat and he gives a small bow as an apology for disrupting class. 

“Try not to make this a habit this semester, Luo Binghe,” the person responsible for Luo Binghe being here says, and Luo Binghe is sure he’s imagining the small smile on his professor’s face. 

He nods quickly before sliding into his usual seat toward the back. Professor Shen Qingqiu lets him settle in before continuing to go over the quiz they had earlier that week. Luo Binghe doesn’t even pretend to listen, instead focusing on how Shen Qingqiu uses his hands as he addresses the class. From experience, Luo Binghe knows those hands are larger than they look, with a few callouses, and long fingers. It’s been almost a decade, but Luo Binghe could never forget the man that saved him from that place . 

Luo Binghe shakes his head to rid himself of those thoughts and pulls out a sketchbook. He’s not much of an artist, but he’s gotten better at drawing the object of his affections. He flips to a fresh page and starts with Shen Qingqiu’s delicate hands. He doesn’t notice when class ends. It takes someone tapping on his shoulder to realize and when he looks up at who tapped him, he chokes on his spit coming face to face with Shen Qingqiu. 

Unlike when he teaches, his eyes are unobscured by glasses, and Luo Binghe can make out the subtle greens in Shen Qingqiu’s eyes more easily. He files the color away for later (since sometimes he colors in his better sketches), and quickly shuts his sketchbook before Shen Qingqiu can give it proper consideration. Luo Binghe shoots Shen Qingqiu a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry about that,” Luo Binghe says, giving a little bow in his seat. 

“Thinking about your match this weekend?” Shen Qingqiu asks, eyes crinkling at the sides. It’s muted, but it reminds Luo Binghe of the smiles Shen Qingqiu flashed him when he was younger.  

“Yes,” Luo Binghe says quickly, taking the change in topic as an out. He’d die of embarrassment if Shen Qingqiu knew that he spends his time in his class (that he doesn’t need to take) drawing him. 

“Well, I’m looking forward to this season,” Shen Qingqiu says, shouldering his bag. “Let me know if you need extensions at any point this semester.” And with that, Luo Binghe’s left alone in the lecture hall. 

His heart thumps in his chest at the implication that Shen Qingqiu knows that he’s an athlete. Shen Qingqiu’s math lectures are popular; Luo Binghe had to exhaust all his connections to get into the section of Shen Qingqiu’s class that wasn’t filled to the brim. Even in this “smaller” class, there were over fifty students. 

And he still knows that it’s ice skating season! 

Luo Binghe feels a balloon of hope slowly fill inside his belly. Last year, when he’d entered university, he happened to get assigned to Shen Qingqiu’s introductory math course. And though it had been eleven years since Luo Binghe had seen Shen Qinqiu, he’d recognized him immediately. However, to his great disappointment, it was clear that Shen Qingqiu didn’t remember him. At first, the realization had stung and Luo Binghe had skipped a week’s worth of classes to wallow in his sadness. But then, when he finally returned to class, he saw that Shen Qingqiu still had the small skate figurine that Luo Binghe made back at the orphanage as a thank you. He’d resolved then that he would keep taking Shen Qingqiu’s class until the man remembered who he was.  

It’s been three semesters since Luo Binghe “reunited” with Shen Qingqiu, and Shen Qingqiu isn’t any closer to recognizing him. But Luo Binghe has resolved to change that this semester. And his first step is already complete: make sure that Shen Qingqiu knows he’s an athlete. It’s a bonus that Shen Qingqiu figured out that it was in-season for him. Next, I just have to get him to come see me skate! I’m sure he’ll remember then! 

The chance arises one day after class. 

There’s a large tournament coming up, the competition one of the four for qualifiers for the end of the season. Though Luo Binghe had been bone tired from practice, he still made his way to Shen Qingqiu’s class. If you ask him what they discussed that day, he won’t be able to tell you, but he finds an opening when he watches the different students ask Shen Qingqiu different questions after class. That’s it! 

Luo Binghe quickly packs up his things and practically runs down the steps to the front of the lecture hall. He waits in line behind a few students, tapping his foot impatiently. He ignores the glares from those in front of him in favor of staring at Shen Qingqiu’s hands as he uses them to explain another concept to a confused student. When it’s Luo Binghe’s turn he realizes that he doesn’t know quite what to say. 

“Luo Binghe? Is this about your first exam? You did a fine job, just some careless–”

“Come to my competition,” Luo Binghe shouts, interrupting Shen Qingqiu. In the sudden silence, Luo Binghe’s face heats up and the flush spreads to his neck. 

“Competition?” Shen Qingqiu’s thin eyebrows pull toward the center of his forehead. It’s a cute look and Luo Binghe’s heart squeezes. “What do you mean?”

“I, um, ice skate? And I noticed that you seem to uh, like…ice skating?” Luo Binghe wishes he could kick himself for how stupid he sounds, but that would make him look even more stupid. 

Shen Qingqiu’s confusion clears and Luo Binghe’s blessed with the sight of a genuine smile. It lights up Shen Qingqiu’s countenance and Luo Binghe’s heart flutters in his stomach.

“I’m shocked that I didn’t know you were on the team,” Shen Qingqiu says, still all smiles. “I try to come to as many meets as I can, but being a professor is a lot busier than they make it seem.” The last part is said good naturedly and Luo Binghe feels like he could die on the spot and still say he lived a fulfilling life. 

“Ihavepracticetomorrowyou’remorethanwelcometocomeifyoucan’tmakethecompetition!” Luo Binghe rushes out before he loses his nerve. All he knows is that he has to get Shen Qingqiu to see his skating. He knows that once the man does, he’ll remember that little kid back at that orphanage that thought he was a goddess for being able to glide across ice so gracefully. 

“Assuming I understood that properly, you’re offering to let me watch you practice?” Shen Qingqiu’s smiling face turns into a calculating one. “Is your program decided already?”

Luo Binghe’s face heats up and he shakes his head no. Shen Qingqiu lets out a breath before smiling again, though there’s something in his eyes that Luo Binghe can’t identify. “I’m busy tomorrow, but I will definitely be at the meet. It’s next weekend, correct?”

Luo Binghe nods, his excitement tampered down that he has to wait another week of pretending to be strangers to Shen Qingqiu.  “I’ll email you with all the information!”

Shen Qingqiu nods and Luo Binghe knows that he’s being dismissed. He offers another smile before turning on his heel and practically running out of the lecture hall, feeling hot and cold all over and a little faint as he recalls his conversation with Shen Qingqiu. He bumps into a few people but can only mutter half-hearted apologies as he makes his way back to the ice rink. Luo Binghe has Shen Qingqiu to impress after all.

The day of the meet finds Luo Binghe so nervous he’s run to the bathroom three times and it’s barely been an hour. The stands are slowly filling up, but it’s still too early to expect Shen Qingqiu to be there. It still doesn’t stop Luo Binghe from looking for him in the stands. 

“Luo Binghe, you’re looking a little stiff!” His coach yells from the stands and Luo Binghe cringes, checking the stands again to make sure that Shen Qingqiu isn’t among them. Just like before, he doesn’t see sign nor hair of his teacher and muse. So, he sighs and decides to lose himself in his routines for the time being. 

However, by the time the announcers begin the meet, there’s still no sign of Shen Qingqiu. Luo Binghe feels heavy in his limbs at the realization. He just acted interested so that I would eventually leave him alone. 

When he’s called to begin his program, it’s with a heavy heart. He skates to the center of the rink and gives one more cursory look to the stands. He first sees his coach pulling at his cheeks and mouthing the word “smile.” Luo Binghe tries, but his face feels too stiff for it to look graceful. The music starts to play and he has no choice but to start his routine. He closes his eyes and leans into the first movement. 

Everything is going well. And then he opens his eyes before taking a jump. His eyes immediately snag on a thin figure standing at the bottom of the bleachers. Their hair is long and their skin is pale. And though they’re far away, Luo Binghe’s gut tells him that it’s Shen Qingqiu. 

The knowledge invigorates him, and he leans into his next sequence, flying across the ice so gracefully that he hears a collective gasp from the audience over the music. He tries not to let the satisfied smirk he feels grace his lips. Luo Binghe bites the inside of his cheek to keep his face “stoic, yet beautiful” and he goes for his final spin sequence. 

When he finishes, only then does he let himself find Shen Qingqiu in the audience and only then does he let himself smile. He doesn’t even pay attention to the score, skating off the ice to hurry to the kiss and cry so that he can meet Shen Qingqiu in the stands. 

“I don’t know what got into you,” Meng Mo growls, gripping Luo Binghe’s shoulders tightly, “but you did magnificent, my boy!” 

Luo Binghe’s smile gets larger as Meng Mo pulls him into a real hug, and he closes his eyes only to block out the flashing lights from the cameras, and not because he’s a little teary eyed. A microphone is shoved in his face but Luo Binghe simply pivots away and starts walking toward where he last saw Shen Qingqiu. He hears Meng Mo shouting about his skates and he knows he’ll pay for it later with extra drills, but he can’t be bothered to care. 

Everything becomes background noise and his vision tunnels once he spots that long hair standing at the bottom of the stands a few feet ahead. Luo Binghe wishes he’d changed out of his skates, if only to be able to run to Shen Qingqiu without fear of breaking an ankle. As it stands, Luo Binghe puts a little pep in his step to get to Shen Qingqiu faster. 

Finally he’s in front of the man and he opens his mouth only to have Shen Qingqiu beat him to the punch. 

“You’re a fantastic skater, Luo Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu’s smile is bright, but there’s still a polite edge to his gaze, like his words are more perfunctory, even if they might be true. Some of Luo Binghe’s excitement dies. 

“Thank you for coming,” he says slowly, ducking his head down. Luo Binghe bites his quivering lip to prevent any sounds or tears from escaping. It’s okay that he doesn’t remember… He’s probably just so impressed he hasn’t put it together yet… Yeah, that’s it!

Luo Binghe looks up again, feeling more hopeful than seconds before. Shen Qingqiu is smiling at him and Luo Binghe is sure this is the second best day of his life. The first being when he first meets Shen Qingqiu. 

Luo Binghe’s stomach aches from hunger. It’s been days since he’s last eaten, and his mother hasn’t left her bedroom for even longer. It’s gotten so bad that the house reeks, the smell clinging to Luo Binghe’s skin. Sometimes he tries to go out and beg for food, but his appearance and stench often offend passersby to the point of them ignoring him.

Today seems to be no different with everyone actively avoiding him at the farmer’s market. He resolves that today is the last that he can take, and that he’s going to steal his food. Sure, it’ll mean his soul will be marred by this action, but otherwise he’ll… die. He scopes out the stall in front of him from his hiding spot. It’s squash of all things, but it’ll have to do.

Just as Luo Binghe is talking himself up to  approaching the stand, a pair of tall legs block his view. They’re clad in some sheet material that makes them look too smooth and shiny to be natural. Fearing the worst, Luo Binghe looks. It’s a young man rather than a policeman, which relieves Luo Binghe somewhat. However, on closer inspection, Luo Binghe isn’t sure this young man is quite right in the head. For one, he’s wearing a tutu. It’s dark black, with spots of glitter here and there. Looking up further, and the young man wears a tight fitting top that covers his arms all the way to his wrists. Luo Binghe has never seen someone dressed so strangely. 

“Are you hungry, little guy?” The young man asks, squatting so he and Luo Binghe are eye level. 

Luo Binghe nods his head yes before remembering his mother’s one and only rule: don’t talk to strangers. But you didn’t really talk… 

As if reading his mind, the young man holds out a large hand with delicate fingers. “My name is Shen Qingqiu, what’s yours?”

Luo Binghe opens his mouth but the sound of his rumbling tummy interrupts him. He feels his face try and flush, but the sudden blood rush makes him dizzy. The world goes black. 

“Why don’t I treat you to some coffee? Or do you prefer tea?” Shen Qingqiu asks.

Luo Binghe must be dreaming. There’s no way Shen Qingqiu would ask him on a date…! But as he stands there looking dumbfounded, Shen Qingqiu simply smiles and nods his head toward the exit. “Is that a no or–”

“YES!” Luo Binghe practically shouts, and doesn’t have the decency to be embarrassed when people walking by them shy away and glare. 

Shen Qingqiu laughs and it’s like listening to a long forgotten song and realizing you still know all the words. Shen Qingqiu begins walking to the exit and Luo Binghe is quick on his heels, almost stepping at the literal heel of Shen Qingqiu’s shoes. He has to remind himself several times to calm down and that even if it’s a date (which he really hopes so), it still doesn’t mean Shen Qingqiu asked because he’s remembered Luo Binghe. But Luo Binghe’s determined now to make Shen Qingqiu remember that little boy he took under his wing that winter, and showed him the sport that they both now love. 

“How long have you been skating?” Shen Qingqiu’s question snaps Luo Binghe out of his thoughts. His newfound energy withers a bit. 

“Well…actually, I–” Luo Binghe cuts himself off, thinking better of revealing such a bombshell so casually. “I think for about nine years or so?”

Luo Binghe looks at Shen Qingqiu’s face carefully for any sign of recognition but finds none. Instead, Shen Qingqiu looks impressed, like he can’t imagine it. Luo Binghe preens at impressing Shen Qingqiu and he chooses to take this as a win in the series of battles in the war to make Shen Qingqiu remember. Luo Binghe just hopes that the battles will eventually come to an end. 

“Class dismissed.”

Luo Binghe blinks himself awake, his ears registering that the lecture is over. It’s a science class and no matter how hard he tries to stay awake, he’s always lulled to sleep. Something about the comfort of the chair, the cool temperature of the lecture hall, and the droning voice of the professor. Though his grade in the class definitely suffers from his naps, at least he’s wide awake for his final class of the day. 

When he gets to Shen Qingqiu’s lecture hall, he smiles to himself seeing that the first and second row are still pretty empty. Usually by the time he gets to Shen Qingqiu’s class, the front rows have enough people he wouldn’t bother. But today is different. 

He doesn’t sit in the first row, though he wants to, but goes for the middle of the second row instead. Luo Binghe waits patiently for Shen Qingqiu to enter the hall, planning to corner him into agreeing to another date (because that’s what the first one was, he’s convinced, because Shen Qingqiu paid after all). 

However, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t come into the lecture hall. In fact, no one comes into the lecture hall. Confused, Luo Binghe pulls out his phone and checks the syllabus. We’re still supposed to have class… And then he notices an email alert. 

Dear class,

I apologize, but I must cancel class for today. See you next week. 

Shen Qingqiu

Sent from Android

Luo Binghe’s heart drops. Shen Qingqiu’s one of the few professors that doesn’t cancel class. The strangeness of it makes his teeth hurt. He opens a new email and quickly types a response. He doesn’t read it before pressing send. In the minutes that pass, he can only bite at his fingernails and wait. 

When more than fifteen minutes pass, he reads over what he wrote and his stomach drops to his feet. 

Reply to: All

[name for teacher/master],

Laoshi!!!!! r u alright? do u need somth, i culd get it 4 u!!!! let me kno!!!!!

LUo Binge

Luo Binghe wishes the ground would swallow him up whole and digest him down to his very bones. He can’t bear to look at his email again. Never send anything without rereading it again!!! 

(Un)luckily, no one in his class responds, but Shen Qingqiu eventually does respond. It’s a short and succinct response but it makes Luo Binghe’s heart swoop. 

LBH,

Thank you for the concern. It’s just a cold. 

SQQ

Luo Binghe feels one part relieved and two parts even more worried. Shen Qingqiu is a delicate man. A cold could take him down for days if not treated properly. So, Luo Binghe resolves to get all the materials that Shen Qingqiu will need to get better faster. The only problem is… He doesn’t know where Shen Qingqiu lives.

By the time Luo Binghe gets a hand on Shen Qingqiu’s address (he doesn’t want to think about the favor he owes in exchange), the sun has begun to set. His arms are weighed down with shopping bags from the market down the street. He’s got ingredients for congee as well as some green ginger tea, and a plethora of medicines that are sure to have Shen Qingqiu back on his feet in no time. 

Luo Binghe looks at the small townhouse in front of him. For some reason, he always assumed that Shen Qingqiu would live in some ritzy apartment that screams of modernity and high-function. Instead, the townhouse is homely looking, made of old brick. There’s even a slightly rickety gate. Luo Binghe pushes against and it creaks open. 

When he gets to the door, Luo Binghe isn’t sure if he should knock. If I do, then he’ll have to get up! What if he faints from the exertion?! But then how else will I get to take care of– give him all these things so he can get better?!

Finally Luo Binghe decides that it’s better to knock to get Shen Qingqiu’s attention and for him to come to the door. He knocks three times, each knock progressively getting louder. He waits a few seconds and when nothing happens, he lifts a hand to knock once more. He hears shuffling before the door cracks open. A bloodshot and bleary eye meets Luo Binghe’s eyes.

“Luo… Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice sounds thin. “What are you doing–” His sentence is cut off by a fit of coughing. Luo Binghe immediately drops the groceries he’s holding and barges in, putting his arms around Shen Qingqiu. 

“Laoshi!” Luo Binghe takes in their surroundings and locates the couch a few meters away. Unsure if Shen Qingqiu should be walking, Luo Binghe decides to carry him to the couch. 

“Put me down!” Shen Qingqiu’s face flushes and Luo Binghe holds him tighter to his chest.

“No way Laoshi, you’re flushed with fever and your cough!” Luo Binghe gently lays Shen Qingqiu down on the couch. “Stay put, I’ll get your medicine!”

Once Luo Binghe gets the medicine out, he makes himself at home in Shen Qingqiu’s quaint kitchen. It’s easy enough to find utensils and he whips up some congee along with an assortment of pills and vitamins he’d purchased just hours before. 

In his time away from Shen Qingqiu, Shen Qingqiu had fallen into a state of half sleep. When Luo Binghe places the bowl down, Shen Qingqiu opens one eye slowly to look at him. “You’re…really here?”

Luo Binghe finds the display endearing. “Yes, Laoshi, I’m here.” He places a hand on Shen Qingqiu’s forehead and frowns at how warm it feels. 

“I once… Knew someone that always called me…” Shen Qingqiu trails off, appearing to succumb to sleep. Luo Binghe’s heart thuds like a racehorse in his chest. He remembers!! 

The excitement fizzles out though when he replays Shen Qingqiu’s words in his head and realizes that he didn’t say Luo Binghe’s name, just that “someone” used to call him “Laoshi.” Before he can get too depressed, Shen Qingqiu groans in his sleep and his eyebrows draw together as if he’s in pain. Upon seeing this, Luo Binghe shakes his head and slaps his cheeks. Laoshi needs me now; everything else can wait! 

When Shen Qingqiu next wakes, Luo Binghe immediately rushes to his side. “How are you feeling?”

Shen Qingqiu blinks, bleary eyed, before squinting at Luo Binghe. “You’re still here?”

“Of course! Laoshi doesn’t show signs of being on the mend yet!”

Shen Qingqiu squints further to where his eyes become slits of obsidian. Luo Binghe feels like that gaze is picking him apart, only to try and piece him together again but in a different arrangement. He gestures to the bowl of congee he’s reheated at least two times since first making it. “Laoshi needs to eat.”

Luo Binghe makes himself at home on the side of the couch, stirring the congee before lifting a spoonful toward Shen Qingqiu’s mouth. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, likely to ask what Luo Binghe is doing, but Luo Binghe takes advantage and shoves the spoon into Shen Qingqiu’s mouth. He watches as Shen Qingqiu’s mouth closes around the spoon and something about it makes his neck heat. 

“I can feed myself, thank you very much,” Shen Qingqiu says snappishly, though the effect is weakened by how he wheezes through the sentence. 

“But Laoshi needs to rest,” Luo Binghe insists, feeding Shen Qingqiu another spoonful. Despite his protests, Shen Qingqiu still takes what he’s offered. 

They finish the bowl of congee this way; Shen Qingqiu complaining every few spoonfuls that he can do it himself yet unable (unwilling?) to stop Luo Binghe .  Once the bowl is finished, Luo Binghe is satisfied that he’s done at least one thing right by Shen Qingqiu. He reaches for Shen Qingqiu’s forehead. This time, Shen Qingqiu doesn’t move away or insist that he’s fine. He leans into Luo Binghe’s cool touch instead. 

“You’re still warm,” Luo Binghe says hoarsely, trying to ignore how adorable Shen Qingqiu looks, how soft his skin is, how pale…

Luo Binghe stands up abruptly and heads into the kitchen. He splashes cold water on his face first before finding a towel and wetting it for Shen Qingqiu. When he returns to his side, Shen Qingqiu seems a bit more alert. He allows Luo Binghe to place the cold towel on his forehead before lying back down. 

“I’m sure I’ll be better in a few hours,” Shen Qingqiu says, closing his eyes again, “you don’t have to stay here all night.”

Luo Binghe sighs in exasperation. “Getting Laoshi to listen is like trying to do a triple axle without a proper warm up.”

Shen Qingqiu makes a sound like a dying cat. Startled, Luo Binghe looks down and sees that Shen Qingqiu’s gone even paler in the face, and his small mouth is open wide. Luo Binghe looks at his person and sees nothing askew and looks back at Shen Qingqiu. “Is there something wrong?”

“You… Are you… A-Luo?” Shen Qingqiu’s voice wavers over “A-Luo.”

Luo Binghe’s heart falls to his feet and his knees buckle from the shock. The moment he’s been waiting for is finally here– his savior, his Laoshi, finally remembers him. 

“Yes,” he says, eyes stinging. He falls into a kneel beside Shen Qingqiu. “Yes, it’s me, Laoshi.”

Shen Qingqiu rises into a sitting position, the towel sliding down his face. He lets it flop into his lap in favor of staring Luo Binghe down. Luo Binghe tries not to feel too self conscious now that Shen Qingqiu knows who he is.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Shen Qingqiu sounds winded. 

Luo Binghe opens his mouth to explain, but suddenly all his reasons seem stupid and something a child would do. But Shen Qingqiu looks at him expectantly, clearly waiting for some kind of answer. So, Luo Binghe says the truth.

“I thought you would remember me.”

Shen Qingqiu blinks at him slowly before slapping his arm lightly. “Idiot! It’s been over a decade and you’ve grown several feet since then.” Shen Qingqiu’s face softens as he takes in Luo Binghe once more. “You look…good.”

Luo Binghe blushes and his boxers start to stick to the tip of his dick. As if realizing how odd it was to say that, Shen Qingqiu blushes as well, though he resembles the reddest of tomatoes. Even in his own embarrassment Luo Binghe finds this endearing. 

“I-I-I mean that you, uh, look like you… Eat?” Shen Qingqiu’s flush spreads to his collar and Luo Binghe can’t tear his eyes away even if he wanted to do so. 

Luo Binghe smiles at Shen Qingqiu. “Yes, Laoshi, I eat plenty.”

“Good, good…” Shen Qingqiu looks away. “Thank you for…taking care of me today.”

“Laoshi cared for me when I was younger, so this is nothing.”

Shen Qingqiu laughs to himself softly. “I should have known it was you from your stubbornness alone.”

Luo Binghe flushes again, but from pleasure. Shen Qingqiu used to call him stubborn all the time when he was younger. Even though it’s not supposed to be a compliment, it always sounds like one coming from Shen Qingqiu’s lips.   

“How is Laoshi feeling?” Luo Binghe reaches for Shen Qingqiu’s forehead and again, he leans into the touch. His forehead feels cooler than before, but still a touch warm. 

“Let me get you some medicine.” Luo Binghe gets up and sorts through the grocery bags for some medicine. When he finds what he’s looking for, he opens the bottle and pours out two pills. He pours a glass of water and heads back to the living room. 

Shen Qingqiu still sits up and takes the glass and pills with a smile. “Thank you, A-Luo.”

Luo Binghe’s pants tighten. “It’s no problem, Laoshi.”

“But it’s so late…”

“That’s alright, I can sleep on the floor.”

Shen Qingqiu looks appalled. “At least take the guest bed. I’ll be–”

“I’ll be fine on the floor.” Luo Binghe flashes Shen Qingqiu a razor sharp smile. 

Shen Qingqiu opens his mouth to protest, but yawns instead. In no time, he’s asleep.

“Are you sure you don’t need help, Laoshi?” Luo Binghe finishes lacing up his skates. He looks up to see Shen Qingqiu’s stopped stretching and stands at the door to the rink. 

“I may be old, but I still know how to do the basics,” he says, looking confident. 

Luo Binghe laughs to himself and follows Shen Qingqiu onto the ice. And as predicted, Shen Qingqiu nearly falls. Luo Binghe comes to his rescue, holding Shen Qingqiu’s hips to steady him. 

“It looks like the student has become the teacher,” Luo Binghe teases, starting to move slowly, guiding Shen Qingqiu’s movements. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah; don’t think I don’t notice that .”

Luo Binghe sputters as Shen Qingqiu starts to laugh, a laugh so free and loud that Luo Binghe swears to make Shen Qingqiu laugh this way at least once a day.