producer watching luo binghe softly hip-check shen yuan to remind him to lift the whisk out of the eggs followed by shen yuan gently pinching the spot where a love handle would be if binghe had bodyfat: is this Christmas? is it fucking Christmas right now? is there a genie granting wishes?

binghe is realizing that there may be a salient difference between his half-closeted disasters and the Narnia-closeted man in front of him. those other men had known they wanted sex before they were ready to want love. shen yuan is falling in love before he's ready to know he wants...anything.