Shen Yuan kisses him back, laughingly, fondly, and then presses firmly down on his shoulders so he'll kneel at the table. "Sit, sit." If he lets Binghe get carried away they'll never eat, and while neither of them really need to he does worry that Binghe won't unless they eat together. Sometimes he worries Binghe won't do anything that brings him joy, that grounds him in his body and his life rather than his endless worries, unless they're together.

But he puts the thought aside, crossing to the other side of the table. He's working on it - they're building out Binghe's other friendships, figuring out the things he likes. It'll be okay. He kneels across from Binghe and pours himself some of the chilled wine, humming along to the music under his breath. "My mom loves this album," he says, quietly. "That's so weird—I wouldn't expect anyone else here to know it. Maybe someone just pulled it up at random, but. Weird coincidence."