Chapter Text
Shen Qingqiu was sipping wine and enjoying the music of the pipa when he heard a disturbance from downstairs. He stepped out of his room, watching from the second floor as several disciples entered the Warm Red Pavilion. His hackles rose as he recognized them as belonging to Qiong Ding Peak. Two disciples were supporting Yue Qingyuan between them. Shen Qingqiu stepped closer, needing a better look.
Yue Qingyuan looked feverish. His face was flushed and glistening with sweat, and he couldn’t seem to put his feet one in front of the other.
“We need a room for him, please,” said one of the disciples, setting some silver on the counter. “He doesn’t need any company. Just privacy.”
“We’re not an inn,” said the madame. “You have to pay for the company, even if he doesn’t want it. Is he dying? We’re not a graveyard, either.”
“No,” Yue Qingyuan said. “A demonic cultivator tricked me into drinking a truth-telling potion, and now I can’t stop talking. My disciples want to hide me away until it wears off, to maintain the dignity of the sect.”
Yue Qingyuan, forced to talk? It was too good.
The disciple with the purse slid the madame some more silver, so she sent a girl to escort the disciples upstairs. Shen Qingqiu ducked back into his room, raising his finger to his lips when his own ‘company’ for the night made to play the pipa again. She lifted one eyebrow at the obvious sight of Shen Qingqiu eavesdropping, but she’d been paid well enough not to care.
When he went back out, he saw two disciples trying to flank the door.
“You can’t do that, you’ll scare away the other guests,” the girl pleaded.
“What’s this?” Shen Qingqiu asked, raising his chin.
“Shen-shishu!” one of them called out, with the same tone someone would use for announcing natural disaster.
“Improper disciples!” Shen Qingqiu said, keeping his voice low as he snapped his fan open. “Bringing our Sect Leader to a brothel!”
“Please forgive us, Shen-shishu! We didn’t know what else to do!”
The disciples started kowtowing.
Shen Qingqiu stepped on the fingers of the closest one and said, “Don’t make a scene. Get back up and leave Sect Leader to me.”
“Thank you, Shen-shishu!”
After the disciples cleared out, Shen Qingqiu entered the room. Yue Qingyuan was sitting on the bed, probably in the same spot where his moronic disciples had left him. He swallowed when he saw Shen Qingqiu.
Clicking his tongue, Shen Qingqiu said, “Those idiots of yours really have never been to a brothel, or they wouldn’t have put you on that bed. Don’t they know what people get up to in these sorts of places?”
“They were doing their best,” Yue Qingyuan replied, trying to get to his feet. He slipped, and would’ve fallen on his face if Shen Qingqiu hadn’t caught him by the arm and heaved him back up.
“Be more careful, Yue-shixiong.” Shen Qingqiu sat down next to Yue Qingyuan, but at a distance.
“It wasn’t that terrible of a plan,” Yue Qingyuan said. “Why should they expect to find one of our sect here?”
“You could’ve told them to go elsewhere.”
Yue Qingyuan held one hand to his temple. “I can’t think very well right now. Please ask me more about this later.”
“So what should I ask you now?”
As if he were steadying himself, Yue Qingyuan gripped his knees.
“How does this truth-telling potion work?” Shen Qingqiu asked. “Do you only answer direct questions, or is there something you desperately want to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm?” Shen Qingqiu leaned closer. “What do you want to tell me?”
When Yue Qingyuan tried to get up again, Shen Qingqiu let him fall. Yue Qingyuan barely got his arms under himself in time to protect his handsome face.
“I’m sorry,” Yue Qingyuan said, almost too low for Shen Qingqiu to hear.
Once, “I’m sorry” would have filled Shen Qingqiu with rage. But it was just a dull annoyance now, like a bloodsucking tick that he couldn’t kill. He grabbed the back of Yue Qingyuan’s collars and pulled him over to the bed. It would’ve been too undignified to let the Sect Leader of Cang Qiong Mountain crawl around on the floor of a brothel for very long, no matter how low the company he was keeping was.
“Why do you want to humiliate me?” Yue Qingyuan asked.
“You’re doing that to yourself. Stop struggling and answer the question you should have answered years ago.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does!” Shen Qingqiu snapped. “Why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I had a qi deviation,” Yue Qingyuan replied flatly. “Shizun locked me in the Ling Xi Caves, and no one would let me out until it was too late. When I went to the Qiu Manor, you were already gone.”
Shen Qingqiu felt like he’d been struck.
Yue Qingyuan hadn’t abandoned him. For years, Shen Qingqiu had assumed that Yue Qingyuan hadn’t found him worth saving. That he’d been too occupied with perfecting his own cultivation while it became too late for Shen Qingqiu to ever reach his full potential. That his lie about having his legs broken hadn’t mattered, that the cruelty of the Qius was something that Yue Qingyuan could simply forget.
Anger rolled in. Yue Qingyuan could’ve spared Shen Qingqiu years of resentment if only he’d opened his mouth the day they were reunited.
Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have lost Qi-ge. His rage boiled over and he slapped Yue Qingyuan across the face. Yue Qingyuan took it passively, just like everything else.
“I knew telling you wouldn’t change a thing,” Yue Qingyuan said. “You’d hate me anyway.”
“I don’t hate you,” Shen Qingqiu replied, the words spilling out as if he’d taken a potion himself.
Yue Qingyuan smiled, Shen Qingqiu’s handprint standing out lividly on his cheek. “That’s good.”
Shen Qingqiu put his head in his hands. The floor felt like it was moving and his chest hurt. He got up to leave, but Yue Qingyuan reached out for his hand, so lightly that Shen Qingqiu could’ve dislodged him with a twitch. Shen Qingqiu was rooted to the spot, his eyes on the door.
“Why,” Shen Qingqiu asked, already dreading the answer, “do you put up with me?”
All Shen Qingqiu heard were the notes of the pipa coming from downstairs, and he thought that the potion must have worn off.
“Because I have feelings for you.”
How unfortunate. Shen Qingqiu shook off Yue Qingyuan’s hand and left.
Over the next few days, the disciples of Qing Jing Peak endured running laps until their feet bled, having their instruments banned, copying the sect rules from dawn to dusk, and finally, enforced silence. None of it pleased Shen Qingqiu, except for the total silence. He filled the emptiness by playing the guqin. His fingers ached by the time he stopped.
Yue Qingyuan had returned to Qiong Ding Peak. There were no rumors about the Sect Leader of Cang Qiong Mountain going to a brothel, so there must have been no further incident.
Because I have feelings for you.
Shen Qingqiu’s fingers tightened on the guqin string until it snapped, releasing one final note into the air. Why? Why care for Shen Qingqiu? Yue Qingyuan was a fool.
But was Shen Qingqiu truly surprised? He supposed he was. Yue Qingyuan had left Shen Jiu to rot, except he hadn’t, so now… this. This thing was between them. It shouldn’t matter, since Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu rarely interacted. There was no need for change.
Shen Qingqiu put his guqin aside and headed to Qiong Ding Peak. Not to speak to Yue Qingyuan, but to visit the Ling Xi Caves. The Qiong Ding disciples were milling about uselessly as they always did, completely disobedient. Ever since Shen Qingqiu had arrived at Cang Qiong Mountain, the disciples of the leading peak had seemed more inclined to gossip than cultivation.
The Ling Xi Caves pockmarked the mountain. With dozens of them to sort through, Shen Qingqiu had little expectation of finding where Yue Qingyuan had been confined. It would have to be one with a narrow enough opening to seal off, but beyond that, what would set it apart?
Shen Qingqiu wasted a shichen searching, and was about to leave when he saw a cave that had a large stone slab propped beside the entrance. As he reached the platform inside, he used his qi to light the torches. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Signs of struggle were everywhere. The walls had been gouged with a sword, over and over, and old blood had dried into the stone. His eyes were drawn to the bloodstains nearly level with the ground, as if someone had beaten their head against the wall while pleading. Shen Qingqiu found himself staring at what he’d wished for the day he’d murdered Wu Yanzi for Yue Qingyuan: suffering.
It meant everything that Yue Qingyuan had suffered. The blood on the walls had been for Shen Qingqiu’s sake. How powerful could Yue Qingyuan’s cultivation have become, if not for his qi deviation? It almost made Shen Qingqiu’s frustration less, to know that Yue Qi’s failure had dragged their cultivation down together, instead of Shen Qingqiu’s alone.
Yue Qingyuan was still too late. He’d been too late to the Qius, and too late to tell Shen Qingqiu the truth. Shen Qingqiu’s fury hadn’t faded, either. But it was different now, fed with something else.
Possessiveness. Shen Qingqiu wanted to possess Yue Qingyuan.
Yue Qingyuan looked at Shen Qingqiu as if he were a ghost. Shen Qingqiu supposed that, if he were going to haunt someone, he’d certainly pick now, in the middle of the night.
“Qingqiu-shidi?” Yue Qingyuan asked. His hair was down, a little mussed from sleep, and his collars were askew. He must’ve rushed to the door when Shen Qingqiu started pounding on it.
Shen Qingqiu let himself in. He felt like he was drawn tight as a string.
“I behaved improperly towards you,” Yue Qingyuan said. “I’m sorry.”
Now that he’d said ‘sorry’ once, Yue Qingyuan couldn’t seem to stop. “Last time you said that,” Shen Qingqiu replied, his blood drumming in his veins, “you were on the floor. Would you say it like that again?”
Yue Qingyuan didn’t flinch. He’d always had a thick face. “If it would make a difference.”
“Do it, then.”
Yue Qingyuan went to his knees, then bowed, his forehead touching the floor. “I’m sorry.”
Shen Qingqiu’s mouth was dry. Seeing Yue Qingyuan like that went straight to his head. He’d felt a dull throb of arousal since he’d gotten the idea for the visit, but now Shen Qingqiu felt intoxicated. What wouldn’t Yue Qingyuan do for him? Where was his limit? Shen Qingqiu reached down to tangle his fingers in Yue Qingyuan’s hair, then pulled him into a standing position.
“Sect Leader Yue,” Shen Qingqiu said, tasting the words. “What would your disciples think of you if they saw you like this?”
“They would be disappointed.”
Shen Qingqiu smiled, then used his grip on Yue Qingyuan to push him against the wall. He stroked Yue Qingyuan’s hair as he released him, feeling the strands parting under his hand. Then he reached for Yue Qingyuan’s sash.
Yue Qingyuan caught him by the wrist. His touch, just like before, was light. “What are you doing?”
“Haven’t you thought about this?” Shen Qingqiu asked, undoing the knot as Yue Qingyuan let him go.
“I tried not to.”
“Why not? Am I a worldly distraction?”
As he opened Yue Qingqyuan’s robes, Shen Qingqiu wondered how certain he seemed. He didn’t want Yue Qingyuan to know he’d never done this for anyone else before. Shen Qingqiu ran his hands down Yue Qingyuan’s chest, then over his groin. “So, this is the kind of feeling you have for me,” he said, wrapping his fingers around Yue Qingyuan’s hardening cock through his thin pants.
“You’re more to me than that,” Yue Qingyuan protested, sighing as Shen Qingqiu dragged his thumb down his shaft. Yue Qingyuan was looking at Shen Qingqiu so softly that he didn’t want to meet Yue Qingyuan’s eyes, instead keeping his gaze downward. “Why are you doing this?”
“Don’t you want me to thank you for trying?”
“Not like this,” Yue Qingyuan said. “I don’t believe that you don’t hate me.”
“I’ve lied to you before,” Shen Qingqiu whispered, leaning in close. Yue Qingyuan brushed their lips together, and Shen Qingqiu pulled his head back. “Don’t.”
Shen Qingqiu went to his knees. He pulled down Yue Qingyuan’s pants, unsurprised to find that Yue Qingyuan was already fully hard. Shen Qingqiu ignored his cock for the moment, preferring to flick his tongue against Yue Qingyuan’s bare inner thigh. As if Shen Qingqiu were doing something else, Yue Qingyuan shivered.
Then Shen Qingqiu bit down, listening to Yue Qingyuan gasp as he left behind the imprint of his teeth. Shen Qingqiu licked the red mark, admiring how it would soon turn purple and remind Yue Qingyuan of having Shen Qingqiu between his legs.
Slowly, Shen Qingqiu reached up to encircle the base of Yue Qingyuan’s cock with his fingers. The tip was wet with precome, tasting bitter when Shen Qingqiu took the head into his mouth. Fisting his hands at his sides, Yue Qingyuan inhaled sharply.
Yue Qingyuan was trying not to touch him. Shen Qingqiu wrapped his tongue around Yue Qingyuan’s cock, glancing up to make sure Yue Qingyuan was watching him as he started to suck. Yue Qingyuan’s brows were furrowed, his lips just barely parted. Their eyes met, and Shen Qingqiu didn’t look away.
Shen Qingqiu had all the power here. Yue Qingyuan thought that he could hold back the truth for years and it wouldn’t change anything? For a man who never fought to get his way, Yue Qingyuan was truly obstinate. And that was why Shen Qingqiu wanted to see him wrecked. He took more of Yue Qingyuan’s cock into his mouth until he felt it hitting the back of his throat.
Yue Qingyuan sounded like he’d been struck. Blood was dripping from Yue Qingyuan’s palms; he was clenching his fists so hard that his nails must have broken the skin. Shen Qingqiu moaned around Yue Qingyuan’s cock before he could stop himself. Yue Qingyuan’s expression turned hungrier, and he began thrusting his hips forward. In his inexperience, Shen Qingqiu struggled to take it, nearly choking once.
Rather than touch himself, Shen Qingqiu gripped his robes. He was so hard it ached, but he couldn’t allow himself pleasure. Shen Qingqiu needed this to be one-sided. Yue Qingyuan couldn’t have what he wanted; he could have what Shen Qingqiu was willing to give.
“Xiao Jiu… please…”
Shen Qingqiu viciously jabbed the bruise on Yue Qingyuan’s thigh. Yue Qingyuan gasped, thrusting one last time before he came in Shen Qingqiu’s mouth. Shen Qingqiu spat everything out on the floor and wiped off his lips while Yue Qingyuan put his clothes back in order. They stayed like that for a little too long, with Shen Qingqiu on his knees and Yue Qingyuan grimly silent.
Rising to his feet, Shen Qingqiu put his fingers under Yue Qingyuan’s chin, leaning forward until their lips were almost touching. All he could hear was Yue Qingyuan’s breathing, and the slow drip of blood from his hands.
Shen Qingqiu kissed him, making Yue Qingyuan taste himself. Yue Qingyuan shuddered at the first press of Shen Qingqiu’s tongue, then reached out for him. Something about the feel of Yue Qingyuan’s hands on his sleeves felt as intimate as the kiss. Shen Qingqiu curled his fingers in Yue Qingyuan’s hair, captivated by its softness. Years and years ago, he’d put Qi-ge’s hair up for him.
Kissing Yue Qingyuan was a mistake. Shen Qingqiu had only wanted to disgust him, but now Yue Qingyuan’s arms were around his waist and the kiss was deep enough that Shen Qingqiu felt like he could get lost in it. Shen Qingqiu wanted to stop it all, to no longer feel Yue Qingyuan’s hands like a brand upon him. He put his hand on Yue Qingyuan’s chest, feeling a heart beating as fast as his own. Then he pushed himself away.
Shen Qingqiu didn’t meet Yue Qingyuan’s eyes as he turned towards the door. Yue Qingyuan grabbed Shen Qingqiu by the sleeve, but he shook him off.
“Shidi! Your robe—”
Shen Qingqiu slammed the door shut behind him.
His skin was crawling. Back in the bamboo house, Shen Qingqiu ripped off his outer robe. It was covered in Yue Qingyuan’s blood, bearing his handprints for everyone to see. Shen Qingqiu had thought Yue Qingyuan was just babbling about his clothes for some reason, not warning him that it looked like he’d just been embraced by a bleeding ghost.
No one had seen. It was too dark and too late at night. No one was allowed to see. Damn Yue Qingyuan! A spot of blood had gotten on Shen Qingqiu’s inner robe somehow, and Shen Qingqiu found himself staring at it as he lay back in bed.
He had to clear his mind. Opening his robe, he reached down to grip his still-hard cock and stroked himself. Shen Qingqiu thought back to how Yue Qingyuan had looked stripped of his fine robes, smaller and more like everyone else. But he’d felt the muscles underneath the fabric, felt them under his teeth—so different from the scrawny youth who’d left him to the Qius.
Hadn’t left him. Shen Qingqiu gritted his teeth and sped up his hand. He found himself remembering Yue Qingyuan’s lips on his, demanding in a way that Yue Qingyuan never was. Yue Qingyuan had slid his tongue into his mouth, greedily, as if savoring what he’d done.
“Bastard,” Shen Qingqiu hissed, feeling his orgasm build. Yue Qingyuan hadn’t told him, had simply given up and assumed Shen Qingqiu would loathe him regardless. Shen Qingqiu had never given Yue Qingyuan reason to expect anything different.
What was Yue Qingyuan doing right now? Certainly not this. Shen Qingqiu had gotten him off, taken his cock in his mouth and compromised his outstanding cultivation.
If he cared for Shen Qingqiu so much, why hadn’t he tried harder? Shen Qingqiu bit his lip, needing to hurt someone in his frustration, even if it was himself. He wanted to kiss Yue Qingyuan again. Yue Qingyuan’s hands had been warm and reverent, so unlike how Shen Qingqiu had treated him. Somehow, Yue Qingyuan cared for him, and nothing Shen Qingqiu had done had stopped it.
Shen Qingqiu came with the taste of his own blood on his lips.