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Mu Qingfang had wanted Shen Qingqiu from almost the moment they met. He could still remember waiting for an inter-peak training match to start and glancing across the field to see a new face. Dressed in the soft greens and whites of Qing Jing Peak, Shen Qingqiu had looked as soft and delicate as a fairy. When he drew his sword though, Shen Qingqiu was vicious and unbending. Even against a clearly stronger opponent he fought like his life was on the line. As Mu Qingfang watched him spar Liu Qingge, a familiar warmth grew in his gut and he knew he was in trouble.
Mu Qingfang was probably the closest to Shen Qingqiu out of all their martial siblings. At the very least, his cold shixiong would actually speak to him without a snap of derision or a sneer. It hadn't always been that way. Something had shifted after a night hunt gone wrong. He'd seen the scars lining Shen Qingqiu's back, the brand in the shape of a nine that could only mean one thing.
Mu Qingfang had never said a word, and Shen Qingqiu had never explained. But after that, whenever they saw each other, Shen Qingqiu would incline his head in acknowledgement.
After they had become Peak Lords, it was Mu Qingfang that Shen Qingqiu would come to if he needed some herb or decoction to help him sleep or for his reoccurring problem: the qi deviations. Mu Qingfang had better solutions than herbs and tinctures, ones he would have been personally more interested in. But he already knew Shen Qingqiu would never accept such a solution.
Or he'd thought that until now.
"You look awful," Mu Qingfang said as he slid a wet cloth across Shen Qingqiu's nose to wipe away a streak of dried blood. It smeared, soaking the white cloth in a deep red. Shen Qingqiu flinched but he didn't move away.
"I just need something to sleep. Maybe the pollen from the Blue Shade Lily."
Mu Qingfang beckoned for Shen Qingqiu to lift his chin and Shen Qingqiu did so, even as his pale eyes cut towards Mu Qingfang. Mu Qingfang ignored the glare and started to wipe the blood from Shen Qingqiu's chin.
"This was a qi deviation, shixiong."
"I'm aware."
"A bad one."
Shen Qingqiu did not respond. Mu Qingfang's gut twisted. The rest of the Peak Lords save perhaps Yue Qingyuan, would likely not care if one day Shen Qingqiu was found dead from a qi deviation, but Mu Qingfang did not agree. This was his shixiong. Even if he was cold, reclusive, and quick-tempered, Mu Qingfang did not want him to die. Shen Qingqiu's qi deviations had been worsening recently and Mu Qingfang had become something he wasn't often: worried.
"Shixiong," Mu Qingfang began, stepping away to rummage through his cabinets. "I have a solution that may give you more lasting results."
Shen Qingqiu still said nothing, but he could feel his shixiong's gaze on his back as he pulled out what he needed.
"Why are you hesitating?" Shen Qingqiu cocked a brow. "What's wrong with it?"
"You won't like it." Mu Qingfang offered him a smile as he turned around.
Perhaps it was a testament to how bad this particularly qi deviation had been, or how weary Shen Qingqiu was, but his shixiong didn't immediately decline. Instead his face twitched then he looked away.
"If it will hurt, then that is fine."
"It won't hurt," Mu Qingfang said. He already new Shen Qingqiu could deal with pain better than most. That was not where his concern lay. "But you will need to be asleep for it."
Shen Qingqiu's jaw twitched then he reached into his robes to withdraw his fan, raising it to hide whatever expression had come across his pretty face.
"What are you going to do?"
Mu Qingfang watched the fine wispy hairs flutter along Shen Qingqiu's hairline as he waved his fan. He wanted to weave his fingers into this dark silky strands, to pull Shen Qingqiu towards him and seal their lips together.
"Does it matter?" Mu Qingfang asked. "Either you'll let me or you won't."
He watched Shen Qingqiu's whole body tense, fingers tightening enough to creak the wood of his fan as his eyes stared straight at the wall. He was quiet for long enough that Mu Qingfang started to run through alternative solutions.
Then at last, just once, he nodded.
"If it's you," Shen Qingqiu said, voice barely above a whisper. "If it's only you. Then alright."
Mu Qingfang's heart fluttered, heat beginning to pool low in his gut. He suppressed the triumphant smile that wanted to cross his lips then held out what he'd taken from the cabinet. A small red fruit with tiny little seeds around its shining flesh.
Shen Qingqiu looked at it, brows drawn together. He took a few deep breaths, then with the fierceness he'd had in that first fight, his hand whipped out and he shoved the whole thing in his mouth in one go.
Mu Qingfang watched the haze come over his face, his brows draw together.
"Mu-shidi—" he started, then collapsed forward. Mu Qingfang gathered his shixiong into his arms, holding him close as he made his way out of his private exam room and into the bedroom proper. Shen Qingqiu's head fell against Mu Qingfang's shoulder, and Mu Qingfang breathed in the soft scent of camellia oil from his hair the way he'd wanted to since they were disciples together.
Shen Qingqiu looked perfect laid out in his layers and layers of delicate robes on Mu Qingfang's bed. Like he belonged there. He may have been reluctant to agree to this sort of treatment if he'd known, but he trusted Mu Qingfang and so Mu Qingfang would do his best for his shixiong.
Perhaps one day Mu Qingfang might even get the chance to treat him when he was fully aware.
He waved off the thoughts and set to work gathering his supplies. He was well-stocked. All of Qiao Cao Peak was. A necessity when any night hunt or training exercise could end in the necessity for dual cultivation. He brought everything back to the bedside then, stripped the robes from his own body with practiced precision, folding each and setting it on his low table.
The bed dipped as he climbed on, kneeling next to Shen Qingqiu's slumbering body. His long lashes dusted his cheeks, breath coming soft and slow. Mu Qingfang snapped his fingers in front of his shixiong's face and when he didn't get so much as a twitch, he nodded. The little fruit he'd fed Shen Qingqiu had worked exactly as expected.
Shen Qingqiu was beautiful in his robes. The care he took in choosing each layer was clear, from the plum blossoms picked out in silk floss around his sleeves, to the matching inner robe in the same soft pink. He was even more beautiful as Mu Qingfang untied his sash, setting it aside to unwrap each layer of fine silk. First a gauzy jade green, then a deeper green silk, soft pink, and cream, and then the innermost layer of delicate white linen. Each slid away to reveal more and more of the parts of Shen Qingqiu that he showed to no one.
No one until Mu Qingfang.
Mu Qingfang smoothed his hands over each layer of smooth fabric, folding it and setting it aside until Shen Qingqiu was completely bare save for one surprise. Mu Qingfang knew that his shixiong was often cold, but underneath all those layers he'd apparently still found it necessary to don a pair of socks, pulled all the way up to his thighs. The sight made want simmer low in Mu Qingfang's gut.
Shen Qingqiu's cultivation had healed the scarring he'd had as a disciple, though Mu Qingfang wondered if that brand was still on his back. He ignored the familiar twist of anger at the thought. Enough dual cultivation could solve many issues. Not just the qi deviation. He could focus on more remedies in the future.
He reached up to unwind the xiao-guan from Shen Qingqiu's bun, setting it aside and letting his ink black hair fall free across the sheets. Mu Qingfang sat back to take a look at his work. Shen Qingqiu's long pale limbs sank against the bed, his muscles loose. His flat chest sloped towards a narrow waist, willowy and lithe in the lines of his muscles. His legs were only accentuated by the white stockings Mu Qingfang had left on.
Mu Qingfang swallowed, reaching out to drag his fingers over the jut of bone on Shen Qingqiu's hips. He slid his fingers lower, over the smooth skin of Shen Qingqiu's thighs, right next to a half-softened cock. Heat stirred low in his gut, thoughts flitting through his head. He couldn't resist taking a moment to spread Shen Qingqiu's long legs, fingers wrapped around the soft fabric of his socks, and press his lips against the warm skin of his thigh. He pressed another kiss to the other, then up farther to his hip bone, fingers ghosting along his shixiong's hips.
He swallowed. He needed to focus.
Pulling away was difficult but he managed to force himself to open the vial of oil he had chosen. He slicked his fingers up with the rare oil from the Spring Sunlight Camellia that he saved for the most desperate of cases. Or for a special occasion like this one. It would loosen muscles and heighten arousal all at once. Even if the fruit he'd used to drug Shen Qingqiu would keep him deeply asleep, it was still important to Mu Qingfang that he received some pleasure from the act.
Mu Qingfang knelt between Shen Qingqiu's legs, lifting one to place over his shoulder and pushing the other to the side. He marveled at his Shixiong's easy flexibility, watching his face for discomfort as he continued to sleep on. Mu Qingfang traced fingers along the curve of Shen Qingqiu's ass before pushing further to drag across his entrance.
Mu Qingfang groaned at the tight furl of muscle, pleasure simmering through his body. How many times had he taken himself in hand thinking of this? Imagining pulling Shen Qingqiu into his room at an inn or even just behind the various flowering trellises on Qiao Cao, imagined stripping his shixiong down and pushing into the tight heat of him. How many times had Mu Qingfang been unable to resist the urge for release even on a night hunt, ducking into some quiet corner or balling his robes between his teeth to stroke himself to completion while his martial siblings slumbered nearby?
To finally be touching Shen Qingqiu already made his head swim with desire. But he knew the proper way to do things. He wouldn't leave his shixiong with any lingering discomfort. He didn't want to risk hurting him or risk Shen Qingqiu deciding to never trust him with his sleeping body again.
He went to add more oil to his fingers, then his eyes fell upon Shen Qingqiu's fan, forgotten on the bed where it must have fallen out of his robes. A shiver ran through Mu Qingfang's body. Shen Qingqiu's long and elegant fingers were always wrapped around this piece of wood and fine paper and Mu Qingfang had spent many a Peak Lord meeting watching him flutter that fan and wonder what those fingers would feel like wrapped around his cock.
He looked at the fan, then looked at Shen Qingqiu, still gently sleeping, body relaxed and ready for whatever Mu Qingfang did. His eyes fell to the fan again. It was sturdy in his fingers, the wood on the end smooth and worn. Mu Qingfang lifted it and pressed it to his lips where Shen Qingqiu had held it. A boiling heat scattered his thoughts as his heart raced. His cock hung heavy between his legs, aching with the desire to be inside Shen Qingqiu.
The decision was easier than he thought. He poured the oil along the end of the fan then pressed it against Shen Qingqiu's entrance. Mu Qingfang sucked in a breath, watching in rapt fascination as Shen Qingqiu's body tensed then relaxed swallowing the slicked smooth wood. Shen Qingqiu made a soft whimper in his sleep, fingers clutching at the sheets under his hands as Mu Qingfang pressed in and in up until the fine paper began.
Shen Qingqiu's toes curled over Mu Qingfang's shoulder, his brow furrowing. Mu Qingfang pressed another kiss to his thigh as he pulled the fan slowly back out before pressing in again. Shen Qingqiu keened softly in his sleep, lips parting as his breath came short. His cock hardened further and Mu Qingfang had to stop for a moment, closing his eyes to center himself. Soon, he'd be able to feel exactly what Shen Qingqiu's body was like around his cock soon.
Mu Qingfang drew the fan in and out a few times, the wet slick sound of it echoing around the room along with soft gasps from Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu was completely hard now, the effects of the fruit keeping him asleep while the oil heightened his pleasure. He leaked pre-come across his belly in a glistening string that Mu Qingfang couldn't resist. He bent, pressing Shen Qingqiu's leg further up so he could drag his tongue along the heated flesh.
He groaned, his own cock twitching at the bitter salty taste filling his mouth. Heat blazed in his gut and he realized he could no longer wait. He withdrew the fan, setting it to the side, then he slicked up his cock with oil. The effect was immediate as shivery pleasure rushed through his body in a staticky pulse.
Shen Qingqiu sighed, a fine tremor running through his body, lashes fluttering. He was really so beautiful. How would he look if he were awake, eyes glazed with pleasure as his fingers scrambled not on the sheets but along Mu Qingfang's back? Would he cry out when Mu Qingfang entered him, would he try to hide his pleasure behind his clenched teeth until he finally broke and begged Mu Qingfang to fuck him harder? Would he arch his hips and drag Mu Qingfang down for a kiss as his pleasure crested?
One day Mu Qingfang was determined to know. But there was something perfect about this moment too. Something transfixing about Shen Qingqiu's pleasure even in sleep; of the trust he'd given to Mu Qingfang to take care of his body. Mu Qingfang lifted his other thigh and placed it over his shoulders then pressed in.
He groaned loud and long at the tight heat around his cock. Shen Qingqiu's inner walls fluttered around him, squeezing like a vice and drawing him further and further in until his hips hit the soft curve of Shen Qingqiu's ass. He breathed deep. Pleasure rushed through him as he tried not to spill inside Shen Qingqiu immediately. Shen Qingqiu's lips parted, the furrow between his brow deepening, but he still showed no signs of waking even when Mu Qingfang drew a whimper from his lips as he slid back out.
The second thrust was even better than the first. Mu Qingfang's fingers tightened around Shen Qingqiu's hips, dragging him up into a better angle as pleasure shot through Mu Qingfang's veins like lightning. He wanted nothing more than to hold Shen Qingqiu steady, to dig his fingers into his shixiong's hips and drive into him without restraint. But he wasn't doing this just for his own pleasure.
Mu Qingfang grasped onto the last of his control and reached out with his qi, threading it through the rapid pulse of Shen Qingqiu's meridians, smoothing them out like river rapids pouring into a calm stream. The connection wavered, Shen Qingqiu's qi coiling and arching, but Mu Qingfang just breathed through the little pulses of pain that shot through him. The connection stabilized and Mu Qingfang let out a shuddery breath, Shen Qingqiu's qi cycling through him, the force of it calming as it poured back out to start the cycle again.
Only then did Mu Qingfang let his control snap. Shen Qingqiu's body was tight and hot around him as he pulled out and snapped back in. His fingers dug into Shen Qingqiu's hips and Shen Qingqiu let out a quiet whine, his hands twitching along the sheets. Mu Qingfang pressed his forehead to Shen Qingqiu's chest, breathing in the scent of his skin as he set a swift pace, fucking hard into Shen Qingqiu's body. He felt like he was boiling. His thoughts scattering. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, but it was better than every fantasy he'd ever had. Better even than any of the partners he'd taken.
He wanted it to go on forever. To stay wound together with Shen Qingqiu as he climbed higher and higher towards the inevitable fall. He gasped against Shen Qingqiu's skin, teeth dragging across his shixiong's collarbone. It earned him a shiver and a soft moan from Shen Qingqiu.
He felt Shen Qingqiu's body tightening around him, then a warm heat spill between them. Mu Qingfang froze for a moment staring up at Shen Qingqiu's flushed face and fluttering lashes. He looked between them, at the mess of come across both their bellies and Shen Qingqiu's softening cock. Then he drove in again, pleasure coiling as he thought of how Shen Qingqiu had come, how he'd been so sensitive, even in sleep, that he had come untouched.
It would never last. Mu Qingfang knew that. No matter how much he wanted to string the moment out, to never leave Shen Qingqiu's body, he could already feel himself nearing the edge. He gasped as his pleasure crested, dragging Shen Qingqiu down hard onto his cock. Shen Qingqiu's toes curled in his socks as Mu Qingfang buried himself as deep as he could go, spilling hot and wet inside of Shen Qingqiu's relaxed body.
He collapsed on top of his shixiong, panting in the aftermath but not willing to pull out. He stroked a hand down Shen Qingqiu's hair, looping their hands together so he could lift it and press a kiss to each of Shen Qingqiu's knuckles. His mind was hazy, thoughts floating in hard to grasp arcs as he caught his breath. The thread of their qi rippled together when Mu Qingfang came back to himself enough to push at it. The connection was still in tact, a strong and steady flow, easing the jagged edges left by the qi deviation and the past Shen Qingqiu kept secret.
He curled Shen Qingqiu into his arms, drifting in the entwinement of their qi, letting it heal bruises and aches until he was ready again. Shen Qingqiu felt too good around his cock to pull out. Too slick and tight and warm. He couldn't help but think how good it would be to do this again. Not just tonight, but on another night. What would it be like to have Shen Qingqiu sit with his legs wrapped around Mu Qingfang's waist as Mu Qingfang worked? How long would Shen Qingqiu let Mu Qingfang hold him, cock buried deep inside his body, until he snapped and demanded to be fucked?
Mu Qingfang groaned, nuzzling his nose against Shen Qingqiu's throat. He pressed his lips along the sensitive skin, dragging his teeth just enough to get Shen Qingqiu to shiver in his arms but not leave a mark. He could feel himself growing hard again. It was time then. One round of dual cultivation was good, but more than one would be better. He levered himself up, pressing one last kiss to Shen Qingqiu's forehead before settling into position.
This time he felt less desperate for it. He was able to take his time, hold Shen Qingqiu close as he rocked in and out of his sleeping body, Shen Qingqiu's muscles loose and head lolling to the side. Mu Qingfang's orgasm came just as fast though, sweeping through him like a hot spring overflowing until he was panting and groaning into Shen Qingqiu's hair, spilling inside him again.
Shen Qingqiu whimpered as Mu Qingfang pulled out, sighing again as Mu Qingfang flipped him onto his stomach to press his softening cock back in place.
As Mu Qingfang waited for the flow of their qi to ready him again, he traced his fingers down Shen Qingqiu's spine. He had been right that most of the scars were gone. But the worst of the ones Mu Qingfang had seen when they were disciples were still left. He pressed his lips and fingers to each: the one high on his shoulder that looked like it had been made with a knife, the long lines across his lower back, likely whip marks, the burns low near his spine just above the gentle curve off his waist. He saved the brand for last, pressing a kiss to the curving lines that read nine.
Shen Jiu. Not for black jade as his shixiong had always insisted with a sort of ice cold determination. No, Jiu for nine.
"Where did you come from, Shixiong?" Mu Qingfang whispered against Shen Qingqiu's skin. "I hope where ever it was, you made them pay for this."
Shen Qingqiu did not stir. The fruit kept him too deeply asleep to answer.
When Mu Qingfang was ready again, cock twitching inside Shen Qingqiu, he placed a few cushions beneath his Shixiong's hips to keep them up, then fucked into him long and slow, savoring each thrust of his cock, each whimper and groan, each gasp Mu Qingfang could pull from Shen Qingqiu even in sleep.
How sensitive his shixiong must be if was like this for him now. If he had been awake Mu Qingfang was sure he could get Shen Qingqiu to moan openly. Maybe he could even get tears to spring into Shen Qingqiu's eyes over his flushed cheeks, could get him to beg in his pretty musical voice.
Mu Qingfang muffled a groan against Shen Qingqiu's back. He could do it. He could get Shen Qingqiu to want him, too.
As Shen Qingqiu tightened around him again, his body pulled over the edge with a whine on his lips, Mu Qingfang followed after him, gasping into the quiet air, his own come dripping down Shen Qingqiu's thighs. The cushions he'd used would be ruined but he couldn't bring himself to care. The fruit he'd given Shen Qingqiu would keep him asleep until the morning. Mu Qingfang had plenty of time and a duty to complete. The cushions were just an unfortunate loss, but they could be replaced.
He ran a hand through Shen Qingqiu's silky hair, pulling his cock out slowly to watch the come dripping down Shen Qingqiu's thighs. Then he sat back and wrapped his fingers around his own cock, stroking himself so that he would be ready faster. Ready to press into the tight heat of Shen Qingqiu's body again and maybe finally get his fill for the night.
…
When Shen Qingqiu came to, he was warm, head filled with fog. He twitched, and water sloshed around him. It splashed against his skin and only then did he realize he was naked, submerged up to his chest in warm soapy water. His heart started to hammer, breath coming short as his mind fought to clear the smoke clouding his thoughts. Where was he? How had he gotten here? How—
"Shhh, shixiong, you're alright." A hand stroked down his wet hair, the familiar voice coming from behind him. He sucked in a breath and his muscles untensed, a quiet calm settling over his hazy mind. This was fine. He knew this voice. It was someone he could trust.
Someone—
"Mu An?"
"You haven't called me that in a long time." A soft laugh echoed from behind him and he let his head fall back to rest against the person's shoulder, thoughts sliding syrupy slow through his mind. His lips curled up at the edges. He he had been right that he knew this voice. It was his shidi. The only person on this mountain who seemed to have even one fond feeling for him that wasn't soaked in pity.
Mu An… No that wasn't right. He'd been given another name. Shen Qingqiu's pushed at his mind, probing the edges until the name floated back to him. Mu Qingfang. His shidi blinked at him, cheeks coloring a soft pink.
"Pretty." The words fell from Shen Qingqiu's lips as easy as breathing and the flush deepened across his shidi's cheeks. He thought he was maybe supposed to care about saying that, but he couldn't remember why. His thoughts were running too slow, falling away as he grasped for them. He was so tired and so comfortable. What did it matter what he said?
He thought he had been tired when he came here earlier. After the… what was it? Something bad.
Oh. The qi deviation. That was it.
He'd been so exhausted, down to his very bones as he dragged himself to Qiao Cao Peak, body wracked with pain. He hadn't been able to stop the blood pooling in his mouth or pouring from his nose.
He'd been… had he been scared? He couldn't remember. The memory was too far away, fluttering away as he grasped for it.
He was tired and achey now, too, but it was different. He felt good, relaxed in a way he couldn't remember ever being. He let his eyes drift shut again, burrowing his face against Mu Qingfang's shoulder.
"Shixiong?" Mu Qingfang sounded a little strangled. How odd. He was always so calm.
"Mm?" Shen Qingqiu hummed. Mu Qingfang's hands were wet as they stroked down his bare shoulder. He must have been bathing Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu had a vague memory, of agreeing to some treatment without knowing the details. Mu Qingfang had said he wouldn't be happy about what it entailed, but he felt fine. Mu Qingfang had taken care of him as he always did.
"Mu-shidi is very good to this shixiong," Shen Qingqiu said, words drifting easily from the fog in his mind.
Mu Qingfang's hands stilled on Shen Qingqiu's arm and Shen Qingqiu pouted, cracking his eyes open to look up at Mu Qingfang's face. This reliable shidi of his. Mu Qingfang had seen the slave brand on his shoulder only a year into his being accepted to Qing Jing Peak. Shen Qingqiu had spent the next days in fear that Mu Qingfang would reveal this shameful secret, that his past would be cast out in the open and he'd be dragged back down into the dirt he'd spent years trying to climb out of.
But Mu Qingfang had never said a word, had never treated him any differently.
"I think I loved you a little for that," Shen Qingqiu murmured, sleep pulling at his mind. The lights shimmered as his eyes fluttered shut, casting dazzling patterns across his vision. He was so tired, and warm. He was sure he was supposed to be concerned. That he shouldn't be saying any of this, but he couldn't make the thoughts connect. It was all fine, wasn't it? He was safe.
"What?' Mu Qingfang's lips parted, hands trembling on Shen Qingqiu's shoulder. But Shen Qingqiu couldn't keep his eyes open, even if his shidi was really very handsome blushing like a shy maiden. He was a little sad about that. To miss such a sight. But even that was far away. He'd sleep just for a little longer, and then when he woke up, he could try to figure everything out then. Maybe Mu An— No Mu Qingfang, would still have that same look on his face and Shen Qingqiu could appreciate it more.
As he drifted back into the quiet soft dark, he felt the press of lips against his forehead, then he was gone, slipping away into a dreamless sleep.