Chapter Text
Another day of silence began on Qing Jing Peak, until Shen Qingqiu decided to allow his disciples to speak again simply because he could do with a fresh source of annoyance. His disciples were still quiet, always attuned to their master’s severe moods. They knew Shen Qingqiu would snap at the first disciple who made a misstep. Or perhaps simply the closest disciple to hand.
That afternoon, Shen Qingqiu left for the Warm Red Pavilion. He intended to drink until he forgot how Yue Qingyuan had groaned as he spilled into his mouth. Instead of returning the same day, as would be proper, Shen Qingqiu spent the night there. Why not? Yue Qingyuan would cover for him like he always did. Besides, Bai Zhan Peak didn’t leave Shen Qingqiu with much face to lose.
Shen Qingqiu didn’t leave. He paid for another day, this time with the finest musician in the house. She was skilled enough that his headache faded to a dull throb. He continued to drink, chasing after the mindless, warm glow that came with it. His cultivation made it harder; once, the madame had tried to cut him off, worried that the rich immortal master was poisoning himself.
He was preparing to sleep for the night when the door opened. Shen Qingqiu’s inner robe was sliding off his shoulder, the musician was nestled in bed with him, and Yue Qingyuan was in the doorway. Yue Qingyuan was probably looking at exactly what he’d expected. Shen Qingqiu had no intention of explaining.
“I see the madame does not understand that her customers want to be undisturbed,” Shen Qingqiu said, rising to his feet.
Yue Qingyuan averted his eyes from Shen Qingqiu’s exposed skin.
“We’re both men,” Shen Qingqiu said. “You don’t have to preserve my modesty.”
“Come back to Qing Jing Peak.”
“Why, do my disciples miss me?”
“You are a Peak Lord,” Yue Qingyuan said. “Staying here for days embarrasses the sect.”
“Get out,” Shen Qingqiu told the musician. Yue Qingyuan gave her ample room to pass by him, then shut the door.
“This has gone on long enough.”
“Or you’ll what? Continue your mild disapproval?”
Yue Qingyuan sighed. “Even if you don’t care for the sect, don’t you care for yourself?”
“Why should I?” Shen Qingqiu demanded. “The one person who cares for me let me spend years thinking that he’d abandoned me. Do you know what it did to me, to look at your face and be reminded that you never came back, and not know why? To listen to you ask me if I was well, and think it was mockery? You’ve ruined me, Yue Qingyuan! You made me feed on bitterness.”
Looking crushed, Yue Qingyuan replied, “When have my reasons for anything been good enough for you?”
Shen Qingqiu pressed on, needing to hurt Yue Qingyuan more. “You never gave me a chance! Because you’re a coward. You’d rather hold something in than risk rejection. Look what it did to me. Look what the Sect Leader’s indulgence has done to me—I’m the Peak Lord of the Warm Red Pavilion. Maybe I’ll never come back. It would be a gift to my disciples.”
“Would you like me to be harsh with you?”
“Do you have it in you?” Shen Qingqiu asked. “You’re too heartsick to do anything about me. It doesn’t matter how I treat my disciples, or how much face I lose for the sect and Qing Jing Peak!” Shen Qingqiu gritted his teeth. “Give me one reason that you care for me, because I can’t see why.”
“Because I never stopped.”
Shen Qingqiu’s eyes stung. “Scram!” He threw a wine bowl at Yue Qingyuan, only to have it shatter to pieces as Yue Qingyuan blocked it with his scabbard. “I said scram!”
He raised his hand to throw another bowl, but Yue Qingyuan caught his wrist. Shen Qingqiu had barely seen Yue Qingyuan move—his cultivation was truly superior.
“I know how I’ve offended shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said.
Shidi? Not Xiao Jiu? When did Yue Qingyuan care how Shen Qingqiu wanted to be addressed? “You’re like a dog that doesn’t know it’s been kicked.”
“I deserve it.”
Sneering, Shen Qingqiu replied, “Then let me hit you this time.”
Yue Qingyuan released him. Shen Qingqiu suddenly felt tired to the bone. He was tired of his frustration, of the old wound that Yue Qingyuan had reopened. Would it always have to be like this between them? Could Shen Qingqiu really not have anything? Shen Qingqiu was tired of himself, all the bitterness he’d nurtured over the years. There wasn’t any point to hurting Yue Qingyuan; it wouldn’t satisfy him. Nothing could.
Shen Qingqiu reached up to touch Yue Qingyuan’s face, brushing his fingers over his cheek. For the first time, Yue Qingyuan flinched. Then Shen Qingqiu held him by the collars, gripping tightly as he rested his head against Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder.
He missed Qi-ge.
Yue Qingyuan wrapped his arms around him. “Qi-ge is here.”
No. Qi-ge was gone, as surely as if he’d died. Shen Qingqiu had gotten his wish that way. Breathing in Yue Qingyuan’s clean scent, Shen Qingqiu allowed himself to be held. It felt like something inside him was threatening to uncoil. He’d clung to his resentment for so long that he didn’t want to let it go.
It was too late for Shen Qingqiu to have Qi-ge, but he could bring the Sect Leader down to his level. Stepping back, Shen Qingqiu pulled Yue Qingyuan towards the bed, yanking Yue Qingyuan on top of him as he lay down.
“Will this make you happy?” Yue Qingyuan asked.
Shen Qingqiu laughed. “Do you think I was happy our last time?”
“I don’t want—”
Shen Qingqiu cut him off with a vicious kiss. Nipping at Yue Qingyuan’s upper lip, he grasped Yue Qingyuan by the chin as he forced his tongue inside. Whatever protest Yue Qingyuan had tried to make, he wouldn’t finish it now—not as he caressed Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder and pulled his robe open wider. Yue Qingyuan kissed his way down Shen Qingqiu’s neck, clumsy and rushed enough that Shen Qingqiu felt his teeth. All it took was Yue Qingyuan grinding their hips together before Shen Qingqiu was gasping, clutching at Yue Qingyuan’s robes. Shen Qingqiu was losing control of the situation; he was thrusting up against Yue Qingyuan without any thought except how unfair it was that he was still wearing so many layers. Meanwhile, Yue Qingyuan was peppering Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder with kisses, his hands sliding underneath Shen Qingqiu’s robe to trace the muscles of his chest.
“Take everything off,” Shen Qingqiu said, pushing Yue Qingyuan away.
Dazed, Yue Qingyuan asked, “Have you ever done this before? With a man?”
Shen Qingqiu had never done this with anyone, but he’d cough up blood before he admitted that. Let Yue Qingyuan think that Shen Qingqiu was deigning to share some of his experience. “Have you?”
“I’ve focused on my cultivation.”
“How kind of Sect Leader Yue to make this sacrifice for his shidi.”
“I’d do more, if he allowed it.”
Shen Qingqiu wanted to throw another bowl at him, but he’d run out. Instead, he gave Yue Qingyuan a stormy look until he started to strip. It seemed to take forever, and Yue Qingyuan was awkward with the catches of his clothing. Despite what they’d been doing only moments before, Yue Qingyuan seemed embarrassed under Shen Qingqiu’s attention. Shen Qingqiu wanted to be indifferent—Yue Qingyuan was a fellow man, he had nothing that Shen Qingqiu didn’t have—but he couldn’t restrain the desire that rose up when he saw Yue Qingyuan completely naked.
“Come here,” Shen Qingqiu said.
Yue Qingyuan returned to the bed, leaning over Shen Qingqiu obediently. Dragging his eyes up to Yue Qingyuan’s face, Shen Qingqiu reached up to let Yue Qingyuan’s hair down. He struggled with the pin, his hands suddenly unsteady. Yue Qingyuan’s hair fell forward, brushing against Shen Qingqiu.
“What else does shidi want?” Yue Qingyuan asked.
Every ‘shidi’ was starting to frustrate him, and Shen Qingqiu couldn’t think of why. Perhaps because it meant Yue Qingyuan still had enough presence of mind to remember.
“Search for some oil in the chest of drawers by the bed,” Shen Qingqiu said, his heart beating faster. There must be something in there.
Yue Qingyuan looked lost. “Which drawer?”
As if Shen Qingqiu would know! “Just find it,” he muttered.
While Yue Qingyuan was searching through drawers that seemed mostly to have hair brushes in them, Shen Qingqiu took off the rest of his clothes. Yue Qingyuan’s gaze flicked over to Shen Qingqiu. “Focus on the oil,” Shen Qingqiu said.
Yue Qingyuan finally found the jar and turned back to Shen Qingqiu. But instead of doing something with the oil, he felt Shen Qingqiu’s pulse. Before he could decide what it meant, Shen Qingqiu snatched away his wrist and wrapped his legs around Yue Qingyuan.
“Prepare me,” Shen Qingqiu said. He’d heard taking the woman’s part hurt, so that was what he wanted. This wasn’t supposed to be about his pleasure.
Yue Qingyuan spread some oil over his fingers and tentatively dipped his hand between Shen Qingqiu’s spread legs. Nothing Shen Qingqiu did could prevent the fiery blush that spread across his features at being touched there. Yue Qingyuan used his free hand to caress Shen Qingqiu’s cheekbones, as if calming him before he pushed in one finger.
It felt like nothing else. Shen Qingqiu was determined not to let the strangeness show on his face, the discomfort mixed with fullness. If this was what his finger felt like, what would Yue Qingyuan’s cock do? Looking down at Yue Qingyuan’s full erection, remembering how heavy it had been in his mouth, how he’d had to strain his jaw to take it in, Shen Qingqiu already had his doubts.
Yue Qingyuan added another finger, going deeper this time. Shen Qingqiu clenched his jaw instead of throwing his head back. It felt good. It was starting to be painful, but good.
“Does it hurt?” Yue Qingyuan asked.
“Sect Leader can stick his finger up his own ass if he wants to know.”
Yue Qingyuan furrowed his brows and looked conflicted enough that Shen Qingqiu finally said, “It’s fine. Keep going.”
Experimentally, Yue Qingyuan moved his fingers, pressing inside him as he thrust them in and out—stretching him for his cock. How had Yue Qingyuan’s confession led to this? Shen Qingqiu was supposed to be venting his fury, not tightening his legs around Yue Qingyuan’s waist, trying to relax when his body was starting to feel like it was on fire.
He had to take charge again.
“Get on your back,” Shen Qingqiu said.
Shen Qingqiu straddled Yue Qingyuan the moment he was on his back. He took the oil and slicked Yue Qingyuan’s cock with it, then lifted his hips so he could align the head with his entrance.
Yue Qingyuan’s eyes were still on Shen Qingqiu’s face. He didn’t know whether to feel insulted or flattered. Too much about tonight felt like two things at once: anger and affection, pleasure and pain.
“Please tell me if it hurts,” Yue Qingyuan said, stroking Shen Qingqiu’s thigh.
Shen Qingqiu started to lower himself down, slowly. There was the pain. “It doesn’t,” he lied. It wasn’t much, anyhow, and there was pleasure with it too.
Yue Qingyuan gasped when he was fully inside, while Shen Qingqiu held back a wince. This was the possession Shen Qingqiu had wanted: Yue Qingyuan helpless beneath him, waiting for Shen Qingqiu. Bracing his hands on Yue Qingyuan’s stomach, Shen Qingqiu lifted his hips a second time, feeling strangely empty. As he relaxed his thighs and let Yue Qingyuan fill him again, Shen Qingqiu realized that he needed more. It didn’t matter that it still stung—it felt better than anything else. Shen Qingqiu moved faster, wrenching a groan from Yue Qingyuan.
“Is this what you hoped for?” Shen Qingqiu asked.
Sliding his fingers between Shen Qingqiu’s, Yue Qingyuan replied, “Some of it.”
What else did Yue Qingyuan want? For them to go back to the way they were? For Xiao Jiu’s useless, pathetic loyalty, that he’d kept alive for years until he threw it away the day he finally met his Qi-ge again? Yue Qi’s failure had doomed them both. But Shen Qingqiu could give him this, bring their bodies together after everything else between them had fallen apart.
Shen Qingqiu buried his fingers in Yue Qingyuan’s hair and pulled him up for a kiss. He didn’t care that he couldn’t get the exact right angle to be fucked anymore, not when it felt like he could get drunk on Yue Qingyuan’s mouth. Yue Qingyuan adjusted their position, pulling Shen Qingqiu into his lap and using his hands on Shen Qingqiu’s hips to guide him on his cock. Suddenly it was perfect again, and Shen Qingqiu gasped. Yue Qingyuan was sliding against something that sent an extra jolt of pleasure through him, drawing shameful, needy sounds from Shen Qingqiu.
“Xiao Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan murmured, pausing to kiss the side of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth, “I wanted to be closer to you.”
Shen Qingqiu didn’t protest. Like this, he could hear his old name without feeling betrayed by it, by everything Xiao Jiu had felt for Qi-ge. Yue Qingyuan changed their position again, pausing to press Shen Qingqiu down against the bed before reentering him. Shen Qingqiu began to feel sore, but he didn’t care. He hooked his legs over Yue Qingyuan’s shoulders, drawing him in deeper as he kissed him, cradling Yue Qingyuan’s face in his hands.
Yue Qingyuan reached between them to stroke Shen Qingqiu, startling him into breaking the kiss. He felt overwhelmed by the pleasure of it all, feeling the name he couldn’t call out trapped between his teeth. Yue Qingyuan kissed Shen Qingqiu’s throat, then along his shoulder. There was a light press of teeth on his skin.
“Do it,” Shen Qingqiu said.
Yue Qingyuan sucked a bruise into Shen Qingqiu’s skin, so much gentler than Shen Qingqiu had been. But Shen Qingqiu still had a mark that would last beyond the strange time they’d slipped into, and he didn’t know yet whether he’d regret it.
“Qi—Qingyuan,” Shen Qingqiu gasped, barely catching himself in time. Yue Qingyuan pressed kisses to Shen Qingqiu’s face and stroked his hair. Shen Qingqiu clung to Yue Qingyuan’s back, wishing he could somehow bring him even closer.
“Don’t stop,” Shen Qingqiu urged.
Something this good couldn’t last forever. It felt like Yue Qingyuan was bringing Shen Qingqiu nearer to the edge with each thrust.
“Xiao Jiu,” Yue Qingyuan asked, his voice ragged, “can I come inside you?”
Shen Qingqiu’s first impulse was to spite him, but his face was burning and he couldn’t seem to get the word ‘no’ out. Why did Yue Qingyuan have to ask? Yue Qingyuan groaned, his expression strained. He was really going to try to obey Shen Qingqiu until he had permission. Shen Qingqiu nodded, his shame forgotten the first time Yue Qingyuan fucked him without holding back. All Shen Qingqiu could do was hope no one outside could hear the sounds he was making, every forced moan as Yue Qingyuan slammed into him.
Yue Qingyuan had to support Shen Qingqiu’s legs as they slipped off his shoulders, sliding over the sweat. Shen Qingqiu’s body felt like it was beyond his control; he was numb to everything but the feel of Yue Qingyuan’s cock and his own arousal. Shen Qingqiu was going to come without even touching himself. Yue Qingyuan’s hips stuttered and he started breathing in short gasps. Running his shaking hand down Yue Qingyuan’s side, Shen Qingqiu savored the growing tension in Yue Qingyuan’s body. Yue Qingyuan grabbed Shen Qingqiu’s arms, holding him firmly in place. Shen Qingqiu was overwhelmed. Shen Qingqiu came just before Yue Qingyuan slowed, making a mess of them both. Yue Qingyuan went still, resting his forehead on Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder as he finished with a muffled groan.
At first, neither of them moved to disentangle themselves from the other. But then the reality that there was come between Shen Qingqiu’s legs and on his stomach settled in.
“Get a rag,” Shen Qingqiu said, pushing Yue Qingyuan away. “There’s probably a basin around here too.”
“You don’t know?” Yue Qingyuan asked. Shen Qingqiu ignored him.
Yue Qingyuan got off the bed and found a basin in the corner. Even after what they’d just done, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t take his eyes off Yue Qingyuan’s naked body. He could almost laugh at not realizing he was a cut-sleeve earlier. It had been so unimportant compared to the gaping emotional wound that Yue Qingyuan had left behind.
Leaning down, Yue Qingyuan wiped Shen Qingqiu clean, then hesitated. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
“You know I won’t ask you to stay.”
Shen Qingqiu braced himself for Yue Qingyuan to slink away. He always did that—yielded to Shen Qingqiu’s displeasure, apologized, retreated, tolerated whatever was thrown in his face. But this time, Yue Qingyuan climbed back into bed and gathered Shen Qingqiu into his arms.
It was exactly what Shen Qingqiu could never say he wanted. How pathetic of him, to crave affection when it meant trampling his pride. For years, all he could bear towards Yue Qingyuan was a grudge. But now it was dying, and Shen Qingqiu didn’t know what to do. Who was Shen Qingqiu, if he hadn’t been forgotten?
Shen Qingqiu tucked his head against Yue Qingyuan’s neck. He couldn’t let Yue Qingyuan see how his eyes were watering. Shen Qingqiu held on to Yue Qingyuan, feeling like he’d fall if he let go.
“Never abandon me,” Shen Qingqiu said. “No matter what I do.”
Running his fingers through Shen Qingqiu’s hair, Yue Qingyuan replied, “I would rather die.”
Shen Qingqiu had spent years wishing Yue Qi had died. But now he found he wanted Yue Qingyuan to live. Not even Shen Qingqiu’s resentment could last forever. Qi-ge’s here now, Shen Qingqiu kept thinking. He’s here and he never forgot me. Someone wanted Shen Qingqiu, despite his harsh words, his cruel temperament, and all the abuse Qiu Jianluo had inflicted on him. Qiu Jianluo had said he didn’t even count as a human.
Well, Shen Qingqiu was human enough.
Shen Qingqiu awoke to the sound of the madame opening the door. Yue Qingyuan’s arm was draped over him, and what they’d done was undeniable.
“Is that Sect Leader Yue?” she asked.
“So what if it is?” Shen Qingqiu sat up, holding the quilt to cover himself and ignoring the feeling in his lower half. He blocked her view of Yue Qingyuan, not wanting her to stare at him.
The madame bent over and started picking up their clothes and folding them. “I’m starting to think that you have no idea what people normally come to a brothel for, Immortal Master Shen.”
“There’s enough silver in my purse to keep you quiet.”
She deftly fished the purse out of Shen Qingqiu’s robe. “It’ll ease the pain of losing your business. The girls liked you.”
The madame set their clothes on the table and let herself out.
“I want him,” Shen Qingqiu repeated, pointing with his fan at the child wearing the jade Guanyin.
Yue Qingyuan shook his head. “No. I think I’ll take him for Qiong Ding Peak.”
Shen Qingqiu was so irritated that he considered not letting Yue Qingyuan into the bamboo house the next time he visited. But as he looked at the firm set of Yue Qingyuan’s mouth, he couldn’t help feeling pleased at his resistance. It was more satisfying than when Yue Qingyuan yielded without a fight.
With a sigh, Shen Qingqiu fanned himself. “As long as Bai Zhan Peak doesn’t get him. Yingying, pick whoever else you want. I don’t care.”
Ning Yingying frowned, but Shen Qingqiu knew she’d forget her disappointment soon enough. She scampered down the cliff, returning with another little girl. The girl’s foundation was unremarkable, but with some effort, she could develop into a pleasingly mediocre cultivator.
The loss of the boy was probably for the best. Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have been able to tolerate him.