The Labor of Love Produces the Sweetest Fruits

by foxfeast

Summary:

In the decades that had passed since the fall of White No-Face, Mu Qing had learned three things about Feng Xin:

One: Feng Xin was, apparently, in love with Mu Qing.

Two: Feng Xin was, apparently, very sexually frustrated.

Three: Feng Xin was, apparently, not interested in having sex with Mu Qing.

———

Thirteen years ago, Feng Xin confessed his love to Mu Qing. Thirteen years later, and they still hadn’t had sex. Mu Qing can only come to one conclusion:

Feng Xin is not sexually attracted to him.

Mu Qing’s solution? Seduce his partner.

In the decades that had passed since the fall of White No-Face, Mu Qing had learned three things about Feng Xin: 

One: Feng Xin was, apparently, in love with Mu Qing. 

Mu Qing knew this because the man himself had confessed to Mu Qing thirteen years ago. It was an unassuming spring day on Mount Taicang, the cherries freshly ripened and the air thick with their scent.

They had been visiting Xie Lian that day. Nearly a century had passed, and yet Xie Lian and Hua Cheng acted as if everyday was their first time seeing each other again. Tender kisses and soft touches were exchanged between them every time they so much as made eye contact. 

Though they behaved themselves in the presence of others (mostly due to Hua Cheng believing no one should see Xie Lian that way other than himself, rather than because of any actual decency), it was still mildly nauseating to see the lovesick glances they kept tossing at each other. It always devolved to the point where they got so lost in each other that it was like they forgot they had company, their world narrowing down until only they remained. 

“Ugh,” groaned Feng Xin, giving them a semi-disgusted frown that was more of a pout than anything. His nose was wrinkled, yet he didn’t look away from Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, as if he enjoyed the feeling of pressing needles into his eyes. “Do they have to do this every single time?” 

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. He knew that expression well; yearning. How could he not? Feng Xin had worn that pathetic look on his face for thousands of years, always looking at others—Xie Lian, Jian Lan, but not Mu Qing, never Mu Qing—with a mixture of heartbreak and love. 

He couldn’t stand it. Not the look on Feng Xin’s face, nor the looks Xie Lian and Hua Cheng were sharing. 

Mu Qing said nothing as he stood up and made his way to the door of the little cottage, tossing an expectant look over his shoulder when Feng Xin didn’t immediately get up to follow him. Feng Xin was looking back at Mu Qing, his expression morphing into one of confusion. 

“Well?” prompted Mu Qing impatiently with a tap of his foot when Feng Xin made no move to get up. “Let’s go. I want to pick some cherries before we go home.” 

One thing Feng Xin had never been good at was keeping his emotions off his face, and over the centuries Mu Qing had grown exceptionally skilled at discerning what each and every one of Feng Xin’s micro-expressions meant. He could tell that the slight twitch of his jaw meant he was irritated, and that the furrow of his brow meant he was confused. His anger was worn in the line of his lips, pressing thin as if to help contain his rage. 

Having all that experience couldn’t prepare Mu Qing for the moment Feng Xin smiled at him, bright and love-struck enough to compete with Hua Cheng. 

In that moment, Mu Qing realized that it wasn’t a bad thing that Feng Xin didn’t look at him the way he looked at Xie Lian or Jian Lan—not when he looked at Mu Qing like this. 

“Ah, are you leaving?” Xie Lian called, finally breaking away from his husband long enough to realize the world was still moving around them. “So soon?” 

“We’re going home,” Feng Xin said, that stupid smile still stuck on his face as he turned towards Xie Lian. “Together.” 

That phrase was either a secret code or they had spoken in their private communication array, because Xie Lian startled at first before returning Feng Xin’s grin—more muted, not as dopey, but radiant in its sincerity all the same. 

“Very well,” said Xie Lian, giving both Mu Qing and Feng Xin a tight hug in farewell. “Visit again soon, okay?” 

After agreeing to return the following week, Mu Qing and Feng Xin were allowed to leave the little cottage. They strolled through the re-planted orchards in companionable silence. The sunlight flashed through the gaps in the leaves, and the birds called melodically for each other in the branches. 

(The re-planted orchard was courtesy of, of course, Hua Cheng. Mu Qing and Feng Xin happened to be traveling with Xie Lian when it came time to unveil the surprise, and so had tagged along. Upon seeing the mountain covered in beautiful blossoming fruit trees once again, both Feng Xin and Xie Lian had burst into tears. Hua Cheng was furious that his gift to Xie Lian also meant something sentimental to Feng Xin, and he completely avoided acknowledging Feng Xin’s presence for a year in retaliation. Mu Qing had been delightfully amused by this—Feng Xin had not.) 

The few rays of evening sunlight that snuck through the leaves flashed golden across Feng Xin’s skin, caressing his jawline and highlighting his cheekbones. The light caught on the golden pin he wore to keep his hair in its causal bun, making a bright halo form around his head. There was a litany of sparkling freckles dusted across his face, making it seem as if someone had painted the cosmos across Feng Xin’s face with a calligraphy brush. 

Like this, Feng Xin looked every bit of the god that he was. 

Feng Xin had noticed Mu Qing’s staring, his cheeks flushing while a soft smile toyed with his lips. He didn’t say anything, but Mu Qing could feel Feng Xin gearing up to tease him, so he scoffed and walked a little faster to separate himself from Feng Xin’s side. 

He picked a couple of ripe cherries off the tree, cleaning them off with a cloth. Then he took a clean knife to cut the pits out, popping a cherry into his mouth with a hum. 

As a child, the only cherries Mu Qing could eat were the ones that were so old they were discounted to avoid being thrown out. His mother worked hard to afford those cherries for him, and while they weren’t ever the best, Mu Qing preferred those cherries to the ones grown on Mount Taicang during the height of Xianle. 

The labor of love produced the sweetest fruits, or so they said. 

He handed some of the de-pitted cherries to Feng Xin, shaking himself out of his melancholy thoughts. Feng Xin had never been a huge fan of cherries and these ones didn’t taste the same as they had nearly a millennia ago, but that was to be expected; that species of cherry had gone extinct shortly after Xianle did. 

Feng Xin must’ve known this, yet he still took the cherries with careful hands and wide eyes. He was blushing again, his eyes reflecting the dimming glow of the setting sun so that amber melted into gold. 

“Mu Qing,” he said, his voice wobbly. He swallowed a couple of times, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action. Even his eyes had begun to fill with tears, and Mu Qing might’ve found himself more concerned by it if Feng Xin wasn’t such a reputable crybaby. “I think—I think I’m in love with you.” 

Mu Qing nearly dropped all the cherries he was holding, his heart stuttering violently in his chest. He could count on one hand the number of times his heart started racing this hard after he became a god—when Feng Xin ascended; when Xie Lian ascended for the third time; when Jun Wu tried to turn him into a turncoat; when everyone had thought Mu Qing a traitor and he believed they’d leave him for dead; and now, when Feng Xin was staring at him so earnestly right after claiming he loved him. 

Feng Xin was always honest. He was always genuine and sincere in everything he did. He never, ever said anything he didn’t mean. 

Mu Qing didn’t know how to respond. He froze before slowly raising his eyes to meet Feng Xin’s teary own. “…What?” 

“I…” Feng Xin paused, hastily shoving a handful of cherries in his mouth to avoid answering—most likely so he could gather his thoughts, as he had the tendency to speak before thinking. His face was bright red now, and he was adamantly refusing to look anywhere near Mu Qing. He nodded to himself resolutely, a determined furrow to his eyebrow. He looked absolutely ridiculous, with his teary eyes and puffy cheeks, yet he still held his head high and proud. 

Mu Qing had never seen a more endearing sight. 

“I’m in love with you,” Feng Xin repeated. 

He said it with conviction this time; not I think I’m in love with you but rather I’m in love with you, like he was stating a fact.

“…Do you really have to cry while saying it?” Mu Qing asked, his voice lacking the bite he wished it had. 

It would be so easy to ignore Feng Xin and pretend his confession was something that had only occurred in a moment of weakness inspired by kindness. The thought that Feng Xin could possibly be in genuine love with Mu Qing was baffling—why would someone like Feng Xin ever want someone like Mu Qing? 

Mu Qing knew exactly what people thought of him. He was strange and off-putting, standoffish and mean. Even though he and Feng Xin had certainly grown closer over the years and threw less barbed words at each other now, it wasn’t as if Feng Xin could just forget everything between them and fall in love. Was that even… possible? Was it possible to go from adamantly hating someone to suddenly loving them? 

Feng Xin was a modest and humble man despite his upbringing—or maybe because of it. He deserved someone who matched him every way, someone who radiated love, kindness, and warmth to match his own. Mu Qing could never offer him any of that, no matter how much he wished he could. 

Suddenly, his hands were pulled into Feng Xin’s own. He had begun crushing all the cherries in his hand while lost in thought, and now the juice trickled into the lines of his palm like rivulets of blood. Feng Xin wordlessly cleaned the juice off with a cloth, not letting go of Mu Qing’s hand afterwards. 

“Can you stop thinking so hard for one second and just accept that I love you?” he asked. He sighed before dragging a hand down his face, his voice going soft. “Look, you don’t have to respond if you don’t feel the same way. We can just pretend this didn’t happen, if you’d prefer. I just… I thought you should know.” 

Mu Qing pulled his hand out of Feng Xin’s—not because he detested the touch but because he found it a bit overwhelming. Feng Xin’s face fell, and he made to back off before Mu Qing stopped him by gripping his sleeve. Feng Xin glanced down at his hand before glancing up, his expression slowly growing more hopeful.  

“…How?” Mu Qing bit out. “I—how could you want me after everything we’ve been through?” 

“I want you because of everything we’ve been through,” Feng Xin said with a shrug—trust him to make something so huge sound like it was nothing. “I know you, and I love you because of it.” 

Mu Qing frowned and pinched Feng Xin’s wrist. “Asshole! You can’t just say that like it’s something so casual!” 

“Wha-?! Hey! Don’t pinch me just because I’m in love with you! A normal rejection would have worked just as well!” 

“Shut up!” snapped Mu Qing. “Are you sure you want me?” 

“More than anything!” Feng Xin declared determinedly, using his other sleeve to ferociously dry his eyes through his glare. 

“Even if I’m irritable and quick to anger?” Mu Qing retorted.  

“I don’t want you only when you’re happy, Mu Qing!” said Feng Xin. “I want you always, even when you’re irritated and angry!” 

“What about when I can’t say what I mean and we start fighting?” Mu Qing pressed. “You know I’ll try, but I’ll never be good at it, and you’ll be always be frustrated with me!” 

“You’re saying what you mean now, aren’t you?” Feng Xin pointed out with a grin that was becoming more and more triumphant with each successful rebuttal. “Besides, I’ve gotten really good at figuring out exactly what you mean after all these years, haven’t I?”

Mu Qing was growing desperate now, but he didn’t think that losing to Feng Xin this time would be all that… unwelcome. He covered his face with his hands in a weak attempt to hide his smile. “Fuck… we’re going to fight and argue all the time,” he said. “You—how could you ever be happy with a partner you’re always fighting with?” 

“We actually haven’t fought in a long while,” said Feng Xin, and Mu Qing was gutted to realize he was right—they hadn’t fought in decades, not since the events at Mount Tonglu.

Feng Xin seemed to understand that he had won their game, and he stepped forward to grab Mu Qing’s hands again as if he was claiming his prize. 

“Feng Xin,” Mu Qing said, letting Feng Xin thread their fingers together with an unbothered smile. “…Are you sure?”  

Feng Xin lightly squeezed Mu Qing’s hand. “I’m sure,” he said. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

And when Feng Xin said it like that, how could Mu Qing do anything other than believe him?

 

—❀

 

Two: Feng Xin was, apparently, very sexually frustrated. 

This was how it went: 

About four years after Feng Xin brazenly declared his love, Mu Qing found himself in a village near Fuzhou. This village had been having trouble with a demon that targeted virgin maidens specifically, so Mu Qing descended to take care of it rather than send one of his female deputies. 

The ghost had been easy enough to find and dispose of; once it had seen Mu Qing in his female disguise, it had gone mad with excitement. Mu Qing dispelled it with a quick slash of his saber, but not before the demon had cut off all of his upper robes in a perverted attempt to expose his breasts. Mu Qing had simply reverted back to his natural form when this had happened, causing the ghost to go feral with rage, which ended up creating an opening for Mu Qing to send it to meet its demise. 

After the fight, Mu Qing allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. His saber was hanging loosely in his hand while he turned his face up towards the stars. It was silent for a blissful moment, but in the far distance he could hear some idiot bumbling through the forest like an overgrown fawn fresh on its legs. He could hear them curse as they tripped over roots and stumbled into branches, uncaring of alerting whatever was still in the forest to their presence. 

Mu Qing waited until they were within earshot to say anything. “I thought I told you not to come.” 

“Mu Qing!” Feng Xin called delightedly, stumbling into the moonlit clearing. “I was looking everywhere—why are you naked?” 

“I’m not naked,” Mu Qing snapped, turning to glare at Feng Xin. He gestured to the robes still covering his lower half, held up only by his belt. “See? I’m clearly wearing clothes.” 

Feng Xin cleared his throat, averting his gaze. His pupils had gone wide, and Mu Qing was only able to tell thanks to the fact that he had become so well acquainted with the shade of Feng Xin’s eyes. “R-right.” 

“What the fuck are you doing here, anyway? Didn’t I tell you not to poke your nose around here?” Mu Qing continued with an accusing point of his finger. 

“I was worried, asshole,” Feng Xin grumbled with a glare, but it was rendered weak when surrounded by his flushed cheeks. “You said you’d be back by sundown. It’s an hour past midnight now.” 

Mu Qing blinked and looked up at the starry sky in surprise, feeling slightly guilty. “Oh. I didn’t realize.” 

Feng Xin shook his head with a sigh and began to shrug off his outer robe. “It’s nothing,” he said, draping the robe around Mu Qing’s shoulders. “Shall we go back up to the heavens now?” 

Mu Qing accepted the robe with a shudder, just now registering the chill of the night. “Well, since you’re here now, why don’t we find a nice inn to spend some time in? There’s one in the village not too far from here,” he suggested. 

Feng Xin’s breath hitched, so subtle Mu Qing almost wondered if he had imagined it. 

Hmm. That was… odd, to say the least. 

“Okay,” Feng Xin said, completely normally. “Lead the way.”

Mu Qing gave a stiff nod and slid his saber back into its scabbard. They walked through the dark forest side by side, only the light from Feng Xin’s palm torch illuminating the way. 

“Why were you half naked back there, anyway?” Feng Xin questioned after a while of walking. 

“I didn’t realize it had been weighing so heavily on your mind.” 

“Come on,” Feng Xin prompted, attempting to sound nonchalant. He might’ve succeeded if Mu Qing couldn’t hear his nervous intake of air. “I go out looking for my partner and find him standing half naked under the moonlight. You wouldn’t be curious if it was me?” 

The image of Feng Xin standing half naked under the moonlight was almost more than Mu Qing could handle, and he cleared his throat to hide how flustered it made him. “This ghost was kidnapping virgin women and cutting their clothes off to find one with a perfect childbearing body,” he explained.   

“How despicable,” muttered Feng Xin. “But wouldn’t he have been able to tell immediately that you don’t have a… ah, a perfect childbearing body?”

“No. He killed all men who came close to his territory regardless of their virginity status, so I disguised myself as a woman,” said Mu Qing. 

There was an audible click from Feng Xin. Mu Qing turned to face him apprehensively, noting that Feng Xin had slammed his jaw shut so suddenly that the click had been from his teeth hitting each other. 

“Are you okay?” Mu Qing finally asked, his tolerance for Feng Xin’s behavior reaching its limit. “You’ve been acting weird since you got here.” 

“I’m fine,” Feng Xin wheezed. “Just—fuck, let’s just get to the inn.” 

Mu Qing raised an eyebrow skeptically, but he did not question Feng Xin again. 

The village they were staying in was surprisingly abundant in nightlife, more-so than it had been last time Mu Qing was here; red lanterns swayed in the breeze while ladies of the night giggled demurely. Feng Xin’s eyes kept darting every which way, as if was unsure of which figure to let them land on. 

At first, Mu Qing thought this disquietude came from being surrounded by so many women, but it soon became clear that wasn’t the case; while it was true that Feng Xin didn’t enjoy the company of women, no one could say he wasn’t at least attracted to them, evidenced by the way he had a son. His eyes tracked the sensual movements of the women, lingering on bare skin before darting away almost guiltily.

He was trying to be subtle about it, but it was hard to miss the flushed cheeks and flustered demeanor. 

Mu Qing continued to watch Feng Xin as they checked into their hotel. It was far fancier than anything they usually got, but it seemed like Feng Xin couldn’t care less. Usually he would complain about these types of places, but he said nothing now, which only caused Mu Qing’s worry to grow. 

Once they were in the privacy of their room, Feng Xin stood aimlessly near the bed. He was clearly nervous, his eyes wide as he stared at Mu Qing. 

Mu Qing tilted his head as he took off Feng Xin’s outer robe, leaving his torso bare once more. “…Why are you just standing there?” 

“I—um,” Feng Xin stammered, taking a step towards Mu Qing. “Do you…?” 

“Do I what? Spit it out.” 

“I was just—um—wondering how you wanted to do… this?” he said, gesturing between them then at the bed. 

Mu Qing stopped folding Feng Xin’s outer robe and turned to Feng Xin exasperatedly. “Do what, Feng Xin? By the gods, you act as if we’ve never slept in the same bed before.” 

“Oh,” Feng Xin said, his voice weak. Then he let out a sharp laugh, the sound unsettling in all the ways it shouldn’t be. “Oh. I seem to have—fuck.” 

Mu Qing frowned, taking a step towards Feng Xin. “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t get hit by a curse, did you?”  

“No, you’re right,” Feng Xin laughed, still all stiff and wrong. “I must’ve hit my head or something—don’t mind me. I’ll just—uh—take a bath now,” he finished, his tone clipped. He bowed his head slightly to Mu Qing in apology before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 

Mu Qing frowned, confused and worried by Feng Xin’s behavior. He waited until he heard the sound of the bathtub filling before pressing his ear to the bathroom door. He felt guilty for spying on his partner, but quickly shook himself out of it. It was okay since they were partners, right? Mu Qing was just making sure Feng Xin was okay. 

Sure enough, Mu Qing could hear more than just the sound of the bath running. There were these quiet little gasps, almost covered up by the running water. Mu Qing held his breath, pressing closer to the door. 

“Ah!” came a sharp moan from Feng Xin. Mu Qing startled at the sound, half worried that he had been caught and half worried that Feng Xin had hurt himself in the bathroom. He forced himself to stay still, listening for any shift in Feng Xin’s voice. More of those little gasps and moans spilled out from Feng Xin, increasing in their intensity. 

Finally, the pieces clicked in Mu Qing’s head. 

Feng Xin hadn’t been cursed or in pain—he’d been aroused.

The realization made Mu Qing groan and press his forehead to the door, his own cock starting to throb. 

Some time after ascending, Mu Qing’s sense of hearing had improved a hundredfold.

This was because his followers believed General Xuan Zhen had super hearing. How else could their brave general know of every single play or novel written, every statue or painting erected, every rumor spread? 

This was how Mu Qing could pick up the sounds of something wet and rhythmic, like the sound of skin sliding against skin. Between Feng Xin’s moans and this sound, it didn’t take much to deduce that Feng Xin was masturbating in the bathroom. 

Mu Qing allowed himself to gasp, knowing there was no way Feng Xin would be able to hear him. He knelt by the door, curling up in a ball at the base of it. 

He wondered what Feng Xin looked like in there. Had he completely undressed already? Did he take the time to undo all the ties on his robes, folding them nicely, or did he rip them off without care of where and how they fell? Did he undress at all, or was he so impatient to touch himself that he couldn’t bear to wait another second, simply shoving his robes aside so he could take his cock in his hand? 

Mu Qing couldn’t hear the sound of fabric rustling, so he decided to imagine Feng Xin naked behind the door. He could vividly imagine the harsh rise and fall of Feng Xin’s chest, the way his massive tits would bounce from the force of his heartbeat. Mu Qing had seen it before; when they were sparring and worked up, Feng Xin’s chest would subtly move in time with his pulse. 

There’d be a light sheen of sweat covering Feng Xin’s golden skin. It used to irritate Mu Qing; Feng Xin was always incredibly gorgeous when he was sweaty, the wet sheen to his skin making his muscles even more alluring. In comparison, Mu Qing sweat in streams; droplets rolling down his skin uncomfortably. It pissed Mu Qing off to no end. 

Now, though, Mu Qing had no complaints, not when he could see the bulge of Feng Xin’s wet muscles in his mind’s eye. He’d be biting his lips until they were shiny and red. His eyes would be closed with tears clinging to his eyelashes, his cheeks ruddy. Feng Xin was always so expressive, and now could be no different; there’d be glassy arousal in his eyes, his toes curled in pleasure. Maybe he took his hair out of his bun, so it cascaded all the way down his back, sticking to his damp skin. Maybe he left it up, the bun gradually growing more and more askew as Feng Xin worked himself up. 

Mu Qing hesitantly slid his hand under his robes, palming his hard cock. Was he really about to touch himself to the sound of his partner masturbating? It wasn’t like Mu Qing hadn’t touched himself to the thought of Feng Xin before. He didn’t do it often before Feng Xin confessed, both because of his vows and because it was disgusting and to masturbate to the thought of someone who didn’t return his feelings. 

After Feng Xin confessed, Mu Qing held himself back less. As an established god, breaking his vows mattered less than when he was a mortal. He’d been changing his cultivation path long before then as well, not that it was needed.

The guilt of masturbating to Feng Xin was still there, of course, but there was just nothing else in this world that aroused Mu Qing the way Feng Xin did. 

Still… it felt worse to masturbate to the sounds Feng Xin was making right on the other side of the door. Obviously there was a reason why Feng Xin was getting himself off in the bathroom instead of out here.

Mu Qing was pulling away from the door in shame before he heard another groan from Feng Xin. This one was loud enough that Mu Qing would’ve been able to hear it even without his enhanced hearing, and it was immediately followed by the sound of Feng Xin shoving his fist in his mouth. 

There was a muffled, stuttering moan that sent a spike of heat straight into the pit of Mu Qing’s belly. Feng Xin took a gasping breath, the sounds of his hand on his cock growing more desperate. 

“Fuck!” Feng Xin whimpered around the hand in his mouth. “Fuck, Mu Qing!” 

It was horribly quiet, probably an unconscious slip up made in the throes of passion. It was obviously meant to be for Feng Xin’s ears only, if that. 

It was enough for Mu Qing to forget being guilty as he took his hard cock in his hands. He was so hard it was painful, and it took everything in him not to throw open the bathroom door and give himself to Feng Xin right then and there. 

He used his pre-cum to make the slide of his hand on his cock easier, pretending it was Feng Xin’s calloused hand on his dick instead of his own. He didn’t bother hiding his moans, knowing he was naturally quiet enough that Feng Xin would never hear him. 

Even though Mu Qing had experimented with his body a few times at this point, he had no idea what he was supposed to do to make himself feel good besides the standard up and down jerking. He concentrated on the sounds of Feng Xin’s hands, trying to see if he could discern specific actions based off sound alone. 

There was about a two second interval between each stroke; was Feng Xin pausing or going slow, or was his cock just so large that it took that long to complete one stroke? 

Every so often there’d be an even slicker noise with a punctuated groan from Feng Xin. After a couple more times this happened, Mu Qing concluded that Feng Xin was likely toying with the head of his cock. 

Replicating the action, Mu Qing thumbed at his tip, almost cumming as soon as he did. He let out a sharp gasp, his hips stuttering and pushing into his hand. Fuck, if only Feng Xin was out here to show Mu Qing how to properly pleasure himself…! 

He repeated the motion a few more times, timing his strokes with Feng Xin’s. It was all too easy to lose himself, and it didn’t take too much longer for Mu Qing to cum to the sounds Feng Xin was making. 

He lay panting against the door, cleaning his cum-stained hand off on his inner robes before arranging his outer robes so nothing was visible. He pressed his forehead to the door as he caught his breath, the pleasure of his orgasm still buzzing through his body. He stayed kneeling, hoping to catch the moment Feng Xin finally came. 

It only took five more minutes before Feng Xin was cumming. Mu Qing listened, his own cock stirring in interest again. Feng Xin gave a long and low groan, mumbling Mu Qing’s name under his breath over and over. 

Mu Qing finally stepped away from the door, knowing Feng Xin would clean up and come out any moment now. 

Feng Xin exited the bathroom a couple moments later with a satiated grin, his shoulders relaxed and cheeks still flushed. His hair had been washed, and he left it down as it dripped all over his shoulders and the floor. His white sleep robes caught most of it, turning translucent as they got wet. 

“Sorry for taking so long,” he said casually. “I didn’t realize how much time had passed.” 

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, though not for the reason Feng Xin probably thought he did. “Did you even save me any hot water?” he asked, hoping his shaking hands didn’t give away the fact that he had just orgasmed to the sound of Feng Xin masturbating. 

“Of course I did,” Feng Xin said. He started pulling the blankets off the bed they were sharing, getting ready to crawl in and retire for the night. 

Mu Qing looked between Feng Xin’s dick and hands, wondering if he could find any evidence of Feng Xin’s activities on him. Of course, there was nothing there, and Mu Qing shoved past Feng Xin with a violent blush. Feng Xin made a confused noise, but Mu Qing ignored him as he locked himself in the bathroom. He started the bath with shaking hands, his cock once again hard under his robes. 

When Mu Qing left the bathroom after another hasty jerking off session and slowly slid into bed, Feng Xin was already asleep with his back to him. Mu Qing ignored the stab of disappointment, willing himself to fall asleep.  

 

—❀

 

Three: Feng Xin was, apparently, not interested in having sex with Mu Qing.

Obviously one would think otherwise after the Hotel Incident (as Mu Qing had come to call it) but there was one crucial detail others were missing: 

Feng Xin and Mu Qing hadn’t had sex yet. They hadn’t even kissed. They’d been in a “relationship” for over a decade now, and Feng Xin had yet to do more than give Mu Qing an affectionate hug or kiss on the forehead. 

Maybe one could dismiss this weird aspect of Feng Xin’s behavior as him simply not being interested in sex. Just because Feng Xin was the god of sex didn’t have to mean he enjoyed having sex.

It was obvious that Feng Xin was interested in having sex and enjoyed it, though. 

He’d stare a little too long at bare skin. He’d gaze appreciatively at erotic art and read erotic novels when he was alone with Mu Qing in the sanctity of their home. He’d disappear before bed, claiming he had to take care of business, and then he’d come back after this ‘business’ was taken care of with a relaxed air and looser shoulders. 

Maybe one could dismiss this weird aspect of Feng Xin’s behavior as him simply being affected by all the horny prayers they had recently started receiving.

It had taken a surprising nine years before rumor of their relationship spread to the mortal realm, but to make up for it, their followers combined their territories into one in an impressive two years. Thus, the sudden influx of all these brazenly sexual prayers was relatively new. 

General Xuan Zhen, please send me a man with a cock as big as your husband’s. I want to be bred and filled with sons to carry on my family name. General Xuan Zhen, I am getting married next week, please grant me your favor and bless me with a husband who can bring me an ounce of the pleasure General Ju Yang brings you.  General Xuan Zhen, I wish to be stretched wide for a husband—does it feel as good as they say?  Do you enjoy being fucked for hours? I wish to be blessed with a well endowed husband with stamina as good as yours. 

“Have these people no shame?!” Mu Qing screamed, his face flaming as he slammed the scrolls of prayers down. “How dare they pray to me for such indecorous things?!” 

Feng Xin simply chuckled, leaning over Mu Qing’s shoulder to peek at the prayers. He had his chin on Mu Qing’s shoulder, loosely wrapping his arms around Mu Qing’s waist. “Not so keen to tease me now, are you, baobei?” 

“S-shut up! Don’t look!” Mu Qing hissed, smacking Feng Xin over the head with a scroll. “Your followers are so depraved!” 

“Our followers,” Feng Xin corrected. He pulled the pin out of Mu Qing’s hair, massaging his scalp tenderly. “Just ignore them, baobei. You don’t have to deal with them.”

“You deal with them all the time,” Mu Qing grumbled petulantly, leaning into Feng Xin’s touch. 

Feng Xin paused, clearing his throat. “I’ve dealt with them for centuries now,” he said. “They don’t affect me as much as they affect you. If they bother you, just don’t answer them. I’ll get to it.” 

Mu Qing didn’t say anything in response. It wasn’t that the prayers really bothered him; sure, it was fucking weird that so many people were imagining him in such lewd ways, but that wasn’t the issue.

The issue was that they were imagining Mu Qing and Feng Xin having sex, going into such explicit detail about it and praying to be blessed with the same amazing sex in their lives, when in reality Mu Qing and Feng Xin didn’t have sex at all. They didn’t even kiss. This embrace Feng Xin currently had him in was the friskiest they ever got. 

It wasn’t because Mu Qing didn’t try. Fuck, he tried so hard. He made it quite clear to Feng Xin that he wanted to have sex with him, dropping hints using the newest erotica produced about them or making sly Ju Yang jokes. 

No matter what Mu Qing did, Feng Xin didn’t budge. He’d call Mu Qing beautiful, but he’d starkly refuse to look at Mu Qing’s bare skin. They didn’t bathe together, didn’t change together. It seemed nothing he did could attract Feng Xin’s attention. 

So when he received prayers asking how good Feng Xin was in bed and asking for a partner with the same prowess, Mu Qing wanted nothing more than to descend to the mortal realm and violently shake their followers by their shoulders. 

Mu Qing sighed, letting himself relax into Feng Xin’s embrace. “I can’t let you handle it all by yourself,” he said. Really, it was so Feng Xin wouldn’t have to go through prayers about what it was like to fuck Mu Qing, since he was so opposed to the idea. “It’s just… overwhelming.” 

“I know, baobei,” said Feng Xin, gently rocking Mu Qing in his arms. “Why don’t you take a break and come to bed, hmm?” 

Mu Qing knew it was an invitation to go to sleep and not an invitation to have sex, but his heart still picked up in anticipation. He let Feng Xin tug him towards the bed, folding himself against his partner’s side as they settled down together. Mu Qing gave a content sigh, burrowing his way under the blankets. 

Sure, not having sex with the love of his life sucked—but he’d take this over nothing any day. 

 

—❀

 

Mu Qing had come to the conclusion that he was simply not the right gender for Feng Xin. 

Again, one could argue that this was not true due to the fact that Feng Xin confessed his love for Mu Qing, but Mu Qing had evidence to the contrary: the Hotel Incident. 

Before he’d disappeared into the bathroom to jerk off, he’d been steadily growing more and more worked up. Mu Qing announcing he had descended in his female form to deal with the ghost seemed to be the catalyst, but one could not ignore the way Feng Xin had been guiltily watching the women of the night. 

Feng Xin could pretend all he wanted, but it was clear that he was sexually attracted to women. 

Mu Qing had never considered how sexuality worked for other people, as he had never needed to before. Apparently Xie Lian was something called bisexual, which meant he liked both genders. Hua Cheng was gay, meaning he only liked men—as long as that man was Xie Lian, anyway. 

Perhaps Feng Xin was also bisexual, albeit in a different way than Xie Lian. Maybe Feng Xin was only sexually interested in females, even if he was romantically interested in males. Maybe he didn’t like males at all; Mu Qing had sometimes caught Feng Xin gazing at women, but he had never shown any interest in a man unless that man was Mu Qing. 

If that was the case, then perhaps Mu Qing could make it work in his favor. He wouldn’t parade himself around in his female form, no, but maybe he could put in the effort to make himself a little more… appealing to his partner. 

So off Mu Qing went, searching for ways to make himself more attractive to Feng Xin. He wasn’t comfortable presenting himself in his female form, but he didn’t mind wearing ladies’ robes if the situation called for it. Back then, near Fuzhou, it seemed like that was what had sent Feng Xin into his horny spiral; seeing all the scantily clad women of the night. 

He wasn’t able to find anything from vendors that both suited his tastes and needs, but it didn’t matter—Mu Qing was more than capable of making his own clothing, so he bought all the supplies he needed to get started and settled down. 

Since Feng Xin still spent most of his time in the mortal realm, it was easy to hide his latest project from him. He’d stuff the cloth inside of a fragrant camphor wood chest when Feng Xin came to visit—Feng Xin hated the scent of the camphor wood chests, so he’d never think to look inside one for any reason.  

Within five weeks the full hanfu ensemble was ready. Mu Qing held it up proudly, satisfied with his work. 

He had designed these robes to show off his skin while still remaining modest. The upper garment was made of a fine silk, white and sleeveless. The skirt was a deep purple with swirling white and gold patterns embroidered on it. The outer robes were a semi-translucent lavender with golden blossoms embroidered along the hems and sleeves, designed to fall off his shoulders in what Mu Qing hoped was an alluring fashion. 

It was a far cry from the simple black and silver martial robes he usually wore. They were a little too ostentatious for him, truth be told, befitting someone like Shi Qingxuan more than him; but it was both casual yet elegant enough that Mu Qing could pull it off, and if anyone dared to ask about the change of wardrobe he could say it was for the spring festivals in the mortal realm. 

Feng Xin was set to return later this morning. Mu Qing always went out to greet Feng Xin in the courtyard of their palace when he returned, so he set the robes aside to bathe and get ready for the day. He washed his hair and applied jasmine oil to his skin, patting himself dry.

He dressed before sitting at the vanity to apply thin red eyeliner. He combed his hair, wondering how he should put it up. He’d been wearing his hair in the same style for the past thousand years, too comfortable with it to try anything new. 

He decided this time he’d weave his hair into an elaborately braided bun to really show off his shoulders and the column of his neck. He left some pieces of hair framing his face as he pinned the rest up with an elaborate golden pin, standing back to admire his reflection in the mirror with a satisfied smile. 

He looked… beautiful. Purple wasn’t a color he usually enjoyed wearing, but he couldn’t deny that he looked rather… elegant, like this. Like he could be one of the ladies who had men fawning over her.

Like one of the ladies that Feng Xin would be attracted to.

With that, Mu Qing went to wait for Feng Xin in their courtyard. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t get as many stares as he thought he would. Sure, plenty of deputy officials gaped at him with wide eyes and red cheeks, but it seemed more out of awe than judgment. 

One of the bolder deputies gave Mu Qing an exaggeratedly wide grin and a thumbs up. This was a deputy Feng Xin had appointed; he seemed to have an affinity for other stupid men.

“Looking great, general!” he called enthusiastically, and Mu Qing tilted his head at him in thanks with an amused smile.

The man acted as if he had just been shot through the heart with an arrow, falling dramatically to his knees with his hands fisting the robes over his heart. 

“Guh!” he said. “The general smiled at me!”

A few of the other deputies seemed to find this deeply unfair, and Mu Qing had more people suddenly clamoring to give him compliments. 

“General! General! You look beautiful!” 

“General, please allow this one to paint a portrait of your incredible likeness!” 

“General! Please, I’m dying tomorrow, the only thing that can save me is allowing me to gaze upon your beauty!” 

“Bah, I’ve been here for twenty years and the general has never smiled at me….”

“That’s because you’re ugly, Zhu Ming!” 

“Have you lot nothing better to do?!” Mu Qing finally scolded. “Get out of here and make yourselves useful!”

The junior officials all made themselves scarce at the reprimanding. Mu Qing settled himself on the stone bench near the pond while he waited, tossing handfuls of seeds into the water for the ducks and koi to snack on. Eventually the ducks found their courage to waddle out of the pond, two of them settling at his feet while the third cozied down in his lap for a nap. 

As morning started progressing into noon, Mu Qing began considering calling for his partner when Feng Xin arrived. He looked beaten up, his clothes torn and coppery with dirt and blood. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, his shoulders hunched and stiff. His jaw was clenched and eyebrows furrowed, a tired and angry air surrounding him. 

He exchanged a few pleasantries with the deputies who came out to greet him, handing over his bag of whatever-it-was so the deputies could take care of it. Then he started searching the courtyard for Mu Qing; he tiredly glanced at the figure by the pond before looking away, only to immediately look back in shock. His tight expression crumpled into an overly fond smile as he walked over, and Mu Qing returned it with a small grin of his own. 

“Baobei,” he said breathlessly, kneeling at Mu Qing’s feet. One of the ducks found this greatly offensive and waddled away, while the other jumped into Feng Xin’s lap. “What’s all this?”

“You don’t like it?” Mu Qing coquettishly tilted his head, stroking the sleeping duck’s head. 

“Of course I like it!” Feng Xin was quick to say, his blush deepening. “You look beautiful, Mu Qing, you know that,” he tucked his duck under his arm as if it was no more than a melon, reaching up to twirl one of the pieces of hair framing Mu Qing’s face around his finger. “You always look beautiful.” 

Mu Qing looked down to hide his blush, reaching up to grab the hand that was playing with his hair. “Thank you,” he said. Then, just because Mu Qing wanted Feng Xin to know he had crafted this outfit himself, he held up a sleeve and said, “look, I even embroidered plum blossoms on it.” 

Feng Xin sucked in a sharp breath, looking at the robes in a new light. “You made this?” 

“Mm,” Mu Qing hummed. “What do you think?” 

Feng Xin stood back up and took a step back to fully appraise Mu Qing’s appearance. He nodded approvingly, making a spinning motion with his finger. Mu Qing covered his smile with a hand, taking his duck in his arms and twirling around with it to show off his outfit. Feng Xin nodded again, his face melting into an adorably enamored grin.

“It’s beautiful!” he said with a small clap, completely heartfelt. “You did a great job with this, baobei! The white and gold really bring out the purple, and the purple compliments your skin tone. You outdid yourself!” 

Mu Qing couldn’t hold back his laugh at Feng Xin’s honest praise. He didn’t know if Feng Xin truly understood skin tones and complimentary colors; it was likely nonsense he was regurgitating after being taught how to give compliments by Shi Qingxuan. Still, he was so sincere that Mu Qing couldn’t tease him for it. 

Mu Qing set his duck down in the pond before taking the other duck from Feng Xin and doing the same thing, watching them paddle away together. “You seem to have run into trouble on your way here,” he said, stepping closer to Feng Xin to tug on his tattered collar. “Care to tell me about it?” 

Feng Xin groaned and let his entire body droop dramatically. “Baobei has no idea,” he lamented. He reached for Mu Qing’s bare shoulders to drag him in for a hug, his hands changing their trajectory at the last second to land on his elbows instead. “A panda and her cubs decided I was the perfect addition to their family.” 

Mu Qing burst into laughter at the image; for some reason, pandas had taken quite a liking to Feng Xin. It started off innocuously enough; Feng Xin would fall asleep outside, and the next day there’d be a panda in his campsite. He’d enter a cave, but there’d already be a family of pandas within. There was one time, long ago, when Feng Xin had returned to heaven after two months of being away. Upon entering his palace, he had discovered a pair of pandas in his parlor eating his bamboo furniture. He’d cursed so loud and long that everyone had been able to hear it. 

Xie Lian had said the pandas liked Feng Xin because he smelled of bamboo. Hua Cheng said they liked Feng Xin because stupid attracted stupid. 

Mu Qing laughter died down as listened to Feng Xin recount his tale with the pandas. He grabbed one of Feng Xin’s arms and pulled it over his bare shoulders, wrapping one of his own arms around Feng Xin’s waist as they started walking back towards their palace. Feng Xin let out a little gasp mid story before settling into the touch.

Mu Qing allowed himself a small, victorious grin. 

“I have to ask,” said Feng Xin later that night, once they had retired in the privacy of their room for the day. “What made you decide to dress up like this? Not that I’m complaining, of course! You just don’t… really enjoy dressing up without a reason—ah!”

Mu Qing had pinched his side to get him to stop his nervous babbling, causing Feng Xin to yelp. 

“Is it such a bad thing that I wanted to dress up?” Mu Qing asked. 

“Huh? Of course not. You look gorgeous, baobei, but I just want to make sure that you’re dressing up for you.” 

Mu Qing frowned. “What do you mean?”

Feng Xin sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Look, I just—fuck, I don’t want you thinking that you need be feminine for my sake. I know you don’t enjoy it, and I don’t know if anyone has said anything to you that prompted this, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to change yourself for me or for anyone else, okay? I love you just the way you are, masculinity and all.”

…God. This man was going to be the death of him. Mu Qing hadn’t expected to be seen through so clearly, but Feng Xin had grown quite adept at reading Mu Qing over the centuries. 

“You silly man,” Mu Qing said, covering his face with his hands. He was blushing, more affected by Feng Xin’s words than he wanted to admit. “Maybe I just wanted to look good for you. Is that so wrong?” 

There was a sharp intake of breath from Feng Xin, and he was grabbing Mu Qing in a second. “Fuck, baobei, you always look so good for me,” he said, leaning forward to give Mu Qing a long and tender kiss on the head. “I’ll always love you and want you no matter how you present yourself to me, but I want you to be comfortable with that presentation as well. You shouldn’t do things only for my sake.” 

“Feng Xin….” Mu Qing mumbled, pressing into the touch. 

“Now, you’ll have to excuse me—I, uh, have to take care of something that I forgot about,” Feng Xin abruptly said, suddenly detaching himself from Mu Qing.  

Mu Qing frowned, reaching out to pull Feng Xin back to his side. “Wait—!”

It was too late. Feng Xin had already walked away and locked himself in the bathroom, presumably so he could jerk off. 

Mu Qing let out a frustrated sigh, kicking a chair over in his anger. It seemed like changing his appearance worked in getting Feng Xin to want to have sex—but it was not yet enough to make Feng Xin want to have sex with Mu Qing. 

…Who knew that Feng Xin would actually prefer Mu Qing just as he was in the end? 

Well—at least it was a step in the right direction. 

 

—❀

 

After his semi-failure a month ago, Mu Qing decided he had to go about this a different way. 

(He didn’t consider it a complete failure, since it had worked in making Feng Xin want to have sex. There was just the eensy, teensy little detail that Feng Xin still didn’t want to have sex with Mu Qing—but he digressed.) 

After that day, Mu Qing reverted back to his simple black robes and high ponytail. Inwardly, he was relieved that Feng Xin hadn’t taken the bait—he was right, after all. Mu Qing hated being forced into feminine clothing or roles. He’d only recently started allowing it, mostly out of necessity than anything else.

Knowing that Feng Xin wanted him as him was enough for him to stuff the new hanfu into a fragrant camphor wood chest and mail it to Nether Water Manor for Shi Qingxuan, who would certainly appreciate it more than anyone else. 

Still, while Mu Qing was disappointed he was still a virgin, he had considered that his initial plan might fail, so he had been prepared to search for other methods of seduction.

This was how Mu Qing found himself in the private library within their palace, flipping through erotic novels and plays that had been produced about them with the hope that they could provide him with some insight as to what he was doing wrong. 

Most of the plays followed the same structure; the devout General Nan Yang had to win over the austere General Xuan Zhen. Most of the stories were actually quite… similar to the real story, in which Nan Yang had to answer three of Xuan Zhen’s riddles in order to win his favor. 

In one story, Xuan Zhen believed that Nan Yang was only trying to steal his purity. So, he required Nan Yang to offer him a virgin sacrifice in order to prove his sincerity. 

As if Mu Qing had any use for virgins! He was trying to lose his virginity, not preserve it! 

He set those novels on fire without a second thought, a small pile of ash forming on the wooden floor of the library. He knew it was futile; each heavenly official had an enchanted private library within their palaces. When a new play, novel, or artwork was produced, they’d automatically join the shelves of the library. Destroying the library or its contents was useless; it would just return to its original state as soon as the owner left the room. Because of this, many officials kept their libraries under countless locks and wards to prevent others from entering, and very few officials actually entered their own library. Mu Qing happened to be one of the few officials that did—it was how he was so aware of all the things his followers were saying about him, not because of some super hearing. 

It soon became clear to Mu Qing that sorting through novels and plays was not viable as the pile of ash on the floor steadily grew. He flopped down on the divan with a sigh, rubbing his temples against the oncoming headache. 

He thought back to his encounter with Feng Xin a month ago, and before that back to the Hotel Incident. What else had he done? Was it perhaps less the appearance that had done Feng Xin in, and more the actions? 

Mu Qing had been a touch more physically affectionate that day. He had taken the initiative to pull Feng Xin’s arm around his bare shoulders and kept his arm around Feng Xin’s waist as they strolled around their palace, even though they hardly ever touched each other in public. He had heard the way Feng Xin’s breath hitched; it was clear Feng Xin had enjoyed it in some capacity.

Was that it? 

Mu Qing let out another frustrated sigh, draping his forearm across his eyes. He began to doze off after a while of lamenting, only roused from his light slumber when the door to the library slid open.

“Have you been reading the plays again, baobei?” Feng Xin asked by way of greeting, sitting down on the opposite end of the divan near Mu Qing’s feet.

He was wearing simple black sleep robes, half of his hair left down with the other half pulled away from his face. He must’ve just bathed before coming to find Mu Qing. 

“Mm,” Mu Qing hummed, sitting up with a yawn. “Your hair looks good like that. You should leave it down more often.” 

Feng Xin blushed, running a hand through the loose strands. His hair was deceptively long, reaching all the way down to his tail bone; most never got the privilege to see him like this. 

“You think so?” Feng Xin said. “I like it when you put your hair up in a bun.” 

“Yeah?” Mu Qing said through another yawn. He eyed Feng Xin’s lap, wondering if he could get away with putting his head in it; it wouldn’t be weird, per se, since they were partners—but Mu Qing was hardly ever the one to initiate touch. 

Well… better late than never, right?

Mu Qing hesitantly slid over until he could lay his head down in Feng Xin’s lap. Feng Xin made a quiet noise of confusion but didn’t protest, instead settling himself against the divan so Mu Qing could lay more comfortably in his lap. Mu Qing sighed happily, grabbing one of Feng Xin’s hands to guide it to his hair while he brought the other to his lips so he could kiss Feng Xin’s knuckles. 

“Oh,” Feng Xin breathed, immediately pulling the pin out of Mu Qing’s hair so he could massage his scalp. “Oh, baobei. Is everything okay? Did my followers write mean things about you again?” 

Mu Qing wiggled an arm under Feng Xin’s thigh so he could hold it close to his head like a pillow. “No, it’s not that—well, they did say that I needed virgin sacrifices.” 

At that, Feng Xin let out a deep, rumbling laugh that echoed through Mu Qing’s bones. “As if you have any need for virgins!”

“That’s exactly what I said!” 

“Hmm, so if that’s not the issue, then what is?” Feng Xin prompted again after a couple minutes. 

“There’s no issue,” said Mu Qing, turning so he could hide his face in Feng Xin’s hip bone. “I just missed you, and I like being close to you. Do you… want me to go away?” 

Feng Xin’s thighs tensed under Mu Qing’s head, and he pulled the hand that wasn’t in Mu Qing’s hair back so it could rest on Mu Qing’s hip.

“Of course not,” said Feng Xin. “I always want you close to me, baobei, however close you’re willing to be.” 

Mu Qing bit his lip in consideration, rolling his next sentence around in his mouth before speaking it. He sat up and straddled Feng Xin’s thighs, holding his face between his hands. 

“I want to be as close to you as physically possible,” he said while looking him directly in the eye, hoping that Feng Xin finally understood and took that final step off the edge with him. 

All the telltale signs signifying Feng Xin was getting turned on didn’t occur; his breath and heart stayed steady, his hands never faltering. This should’ve been a good thing, but Mu Qing only frowned in frustration. 

“I think this is as close as we can physically be without becoming one entity, baobei,” Feng Xin teased, as if that would be a bad thing. 

For all that Mu Qing had insulted Feng Xin’s intelligence, he never once truly believed Feng Xin was an idiot until this very moment. He took a deep breath, counting to ten before taking Feng Xin’s hands in his. 

“No,” he said, looking at Feng Xin imploringly. “I want to become one with you.” 

Feng Xin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Aren’t we already… one?” 

“No!” Mu Qing cried in frustration, dropping Feng Xin’s hands. “Feng Xin, I want to be close to you. I want to feel you inside every inch of my body. I want to become so thoroughly marked by you that no one—no one can tell where one of us ends and the other begins. I want to—I want everyone to know we belong to each other.” 

There. There was literally no other way Mu Qing could get his intentions across without literally saying ‘I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk for the next century.’ 

It seemed like this sentence was finally received the way Mu Qing wanted it to be; Feng Xin’s eyes widened, and his heart started pounding. Mu Qing smiled in satisfaction, tilting his head and leaning forward so Feng Xin could finally kiss him and then hopefully fuck his brains out. 

Instead of leaning forward and sealing their lips, though, Feng Xin leaned backwards and shifted his legs to put space between him and Mu Qing. Mu Qing knew Feng Xin was hiding an erection under those robes; he could hear the thrumming of his blood, and he’d become well acquainted with Feng Xin’s arousal at this point that it was impossible to miss. 

So why the fuck was Feng Xin moving away, when Mu Qing was right there and practically begging to be fucked?! 

“You… you want me to live inside your ribcage?” Feng Xin tentatively asked. 

Mu Qing couldn’t believe what the fuck he was hearing, and he jumped off the divan in his rage. “What?!” 

“You said you wanted to feel me inside every inch of your body!” Feng Xin defended, also standing up. 

“Are you fucking stupid?!” Mu Qing yelled, letting his anger and sexual frustration get the best of him. Fuck, what else could be possibly do to get his intentions across?! “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”  

“What—what’s wrong with me?!” Feng Xin yelled back. “You—you’re the one who is mad at me for no reason! What did I even do, huh?! I thought we were having fun!”

“Are you really so dense that you can’t understand why I’m upset?!” snapped Mu Qing. “You’re just—ugh! What more do I need to do to get you to understand what I want?! Do I need to speak to you like a child for you to get anything?!” 

Feng Xin’s anger was rapidly turning into hurt, and Mu Qing’s own frustration was turning into sharp spikes of guilt at the sight of it. “I’m trying, Mu Qing!” he cried. “I really am! I’m sorry that I’m too fucking stupid to get what you mean half the time, but I’m trying!”  

For some reason, hearing Feng Xin use his name then insult himself made Mu Qing’s rage boil over. He grabbed a book off the nearby shelf, launching it at Feng Xin’s head. “Don’t fucking call me that!” 

Feng Xin dodged the book easily, turning a glare onto Mu Qing. “What? Mu Qing? It’s your fucking name!” 

“Not to you, it isn’t!” Mu Qing screamed. “To you, my name is baobei!” 

The fight instantly left both of them at Mu Qing’s bold statement. They stood at opposite ends of the library in silence, catching their breath after yelling at each other. Finally Feng Xin started giggling, and Mu Qing was powerless against his own fit of quiet giggles. Feng Xin tilted his head, giving Mu Qing an overly fond smile as he held his arms open invitingly. 

“Come here, baobei.” 

Mu Qing ignored him for as long as he could just to be difficult, but he couldn’t resist Feng Xin. He stomped his way over to him, aggressively folding himself into Feng Xin’s arms. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” said Feng Xin, his hand rubbing up and down Mu Qing’s spine. 

Mu Qing sniffed haughtily. “I’m sorry for calling you stupid, and… and everything else.” 

“What about for throwing a book at my head?” 

“…No. You deserved that.” 

Feng Xin chuckled, but he didn’t say anything more. They stood in each other’s embrace for a while longer until Mu Qing finally pulled away with a sigh, not meeting Feng Xin’s eyes. Feng Xin grabbed his hands as he pulled away, pressing light kisses to his palms. 

“Mu Qing. Baobei. Look at me,” he said, and Mu Qing reluctantly looked up at him. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes,” Mu Qing lied. “You—you’re not stupid. I don’t think you’re stupid.” 

“I know, baobei.” 

“…Can we sit back down now?” 

Feng Xin smiled and allowed Mu Qing to arrange himself into his lap like he did earlier. Mu Qing remained tense in his lap, but Feng Xin didn’t press the subject any further. 

 

—❀

 

Mu Qing had gone almost a thousand years without having sex, and not once did he believe it was some sort of major sacrifice. 

He had been content remaining a virgin; for centuries, he had absolutely no interest or desire to have sex. Sure, there were a couple times throughout the millennia where he couldn’t resist the urge to touch himself, but it was more out of biological function than because he was actually aroused. 

(Of course, that changed when he started living with Feng Xin, who made him so painfully horny and was the cause of all Mu Qing’s problems in the first place.) 

So why did it feel like a physical loss that Mu Qing wasn’t having sex with Feng Xin, when he had gone so long without it?

He found Feng Xin attractive, of course. Feng Xin was the only person Mu Qing found attractive. Physically, Feng Xin was quite alluring; his broad shoulders, slim waist, and thick thighs were often hidden under his layers of armor, but on the days he forewent his armor and wore casual robes, it was hard to keep one’s eyes off him. He radiated warmth in ways no one else ever could, truly befitting his title of Southern Sun. 

Mu Qing was just so utterly enamored by Feng Xin in every way possible that he didn’t know what to do with it all; how could he possibly express the deep admiration, trust, and love he had for that man with words and casual touches alone? 

He didn’t know how he could get the message across without giving Feng Xin every single part of his soul. There was just something so intimate and vulnerable about having sex with someone, and Mu Qing wanted nothing more than to experience that intimacy and vulnerability with Feng Xin. 

He wanted to say, ‘I’m yours, in every way possible, in every life, in every universe’ and the only way he knew how was by giving his body and soul over to Feng Xin for him to do whatever he saw fit. 

More than that, though, Mu Qing simply wanted to have sex. Was that so wrong, to want to have sex with the person one loved?

He wanted to experience those mortal pleasures he never allowed himself before. He wanted to allow himself the chance to feel human for once, without the expectations of performing for another person. 

Thus, Mu Qing set off to find the only person in the world who had ever successfully had sex with Feng Xin. 

He snuck into Ghost City late one evening, not bothering with a disguise; the only people here who could recognize him were Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, who could also recognize him in his Fu Yao disguise. He chose instead to pin his hair up in a high ponytail and wore very simple, very cheap robes similar to Xie Lian’s—like this, he looked like the simple servant he was meant to be rather than a god. 

He made his way through Ghost City’s red light district with his shoulders hunched up to his ears. He had absolutely no idea if Jian Lan was still residing in Ghost City, and he refused to ask Hua Cheng for help, so the ladies of the night were his next best bet. 

Mu Qing found it sort of… bizarre that these ladies continued to work in brothels even after their deaths. They were free now, under the protection of Hua Cheng and without a master to answer to; why did so many choose to return to sex work after their deaths? 

Mu Qing was considering this when he felt a hand with sharp nails land on his bicep. He turned to see one of the brothel workers, a woman that might’ve been beautiful at one point but now had the signs of death marring her features. She wore heavy makeup, but Mu Qing could still see the strangulation scars around her throat. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here?” she purred, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Could you be looking for some company, handsome?”

Mu Qing cleared his throat and attempted to pull away from the ghost, but she only tightened her grip on him. “I’m not interested,” he said brusquely. 

The ghost narrowed her eyes, not dropping her hand from his arm. “Bullshit,” she said, digging her nails in. “Why would you be here if you weren’t interested?” 

Well… she had a point, and technically Mu Qing was in the red light district because he was interested in having sex—just not with her. 

“Beat it. I’m looking for someone,” Mu Qing said, once again trying to separate himself from the ghost. She took this as her cue to press herself against Mu Qing in what she probably thought was an alluring fashion. 

“Of course you are,” said the ghost, hanging onto Mu Qing now. “That’s why all men come here, darling.” 

“No,” Mu Qing said, growing irritated. He wanted this ghost to stop touching him, but he didn’t know how to shake her off without causing a scene, subsequently drawing the attention of Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. “I’m looking for the ghost known as Lan Chang—perhaps you know her?” 

The ghost woman’s jaw almost dropped clean off her face before she burst into a raucous fit of laughter, drawing the attention of everyone else nearby. “Listen to this!” she said to everyone surrounding them. “This boy says he wants to see Lan Chang!” 

The other ghosts seemed to find this just as funny, all of them laughing heartily. Mu Qing furrowed his brows, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. 

“Hahaha! Don’t pull my leg, Meng Yao!” said another ghost. “Why would someone like him want an ugly old hag like her?

She wasn’t ugly when she was alive, Mu Qing wanted to say, but he held his tongue. 

Another ghost plastered herself to Mu Qing’s other side. “You don’t want her, honey,” she said. “Why don’t you come spend a night with me instead?”

Mu Qing’s patience had reached its limit. He meanly shook both ghost women off, sending them tumbling to the ground since they weren’t prepared for his strength. This drew the angry gasps of the crowd, absolutely affronted that Mu Qing had sent two ladies—however ugly they were—flying.  

“Hey, that guy’s starting a fight!” said a ghost. “Get his ass!” 

“I’m going to use his ribs as toothpicks!” 

“I call dibs on his liver!” 

“Ooh, can I have his brains?!” 

Mu Qing tensed, ready to fight his way out of Ghost City. He’d explain this all to Xie Lian later and hope that was enough to prevent Hua Cheng from stringing up his innards. 

“…Mu Qing?” 

Speak of the devil! 

“Your Highness!” Mu Qing cried in relief. “You really have impeccable timing!”

Xie Lian gave a sheepish laugh, waving his hand back and forth. “It’s nothing. What’s going on here?” 

The angry ghosts surrounding Mu Qing started backing off as soon as Xie Lian appeared, suddenly deciding that protecting the honor of the two fallen ladies wasn’t worth it. Most had dispersed, and the few that remained bowed politely to Xie Lian with hasty apologies. Xie Lian blinked in confusion, turning his pleasant grin to Mu Qing. 

“I guess it’s been settled, then…?” 

Mu Qing gave a short but genuine laugh. He’d originally wanted to avoid Xie Lian at all costs, but he couldn’t deny that it certainly felt… safer with him around. “What are you doing here, Your Highness?” 

“I should be asking you that,” said Xie Lian, but he continued before Mu Qing had the chance to explain himself. He started walking down the road, and Mu Qing automatically followed without being asked. “San Lang is busy, so I thought I’d come out and see the city for a bit. I heard a commotion over here and came to investigate.” 

Mu Qing bowed his head apologetically. “Pray Your Highness forgives this one for causing trouble.” 

“Not at all!” said Xie Lian. “These ghosts will look for any reason to pick a fight! Hm… a bit like you….” 

“There was no need to add that last part, Your Highness.” 

Xie Lian chuckled, and they made their way back to Paradise Manor. Mu Qing followed close behind Xie Lian, unwilling to be harassed by any more ghosts. 

“…Your Highness, I have a question,” Mu Qing said once they had left the bustling streets of the city and were left relatively alone on the path up to Paradise Manor. 

“Ah,” said Xie Lian, “you want to know why those ghosts continue sex work after death, don’t you?” 

Mu Qing blinked incredulously. “How did you know?” 

“Ah… you know how the circumstances of a ghost’s life and death affect their soul, correct?” 

“Mm.”

“Well, a ghost who was starved to death may need to eat more in their afterlife—take Black Water, for example. For women who were prostitutes in their lives, oftentimes the only way they can continue to receive energy and sustenance as a ghost is by having sex. So, many choose to return to sex work in the afterlives,” Xie Lian explained. 

“…I see. Pardon my ignorance.” 

“Ah, it’s not your fault,” Xie Lian said. “I wondered the same thing, at first. Still, San Lang has made it very safe here for sex workers—all the ladies answer to themselves and only themselves, so if they were unhappy they could leave at any time. They choose to stay.” 

Mu Qing hadn’t realized that Hua Cheng had created such a safe place for his fellow ghosts. He seemed to be more like the type of person who would do fuck all if it didn’t concern Xie Lian.

Could it be that Hua Cheng wasn’t actually all that bad…?

“Don’t make that face!” said Xie Lian. “San Lang is a good person, really!” 

“…If you say so, Your Highness.” 

Xie Lian continued to babble nonsensically about Hua Cheng’s many good attributes as he led Mu Qing into the guest parlor inside the manor. Mu Qing listened with half an ear, uncaring about how Hua Cheng saved a puppy from drowning in a river or whatever it was.

He watched Xie Lian as they settled. Countless little ghosts and butterflies were fluttering around him, bringing him tea and other snacks. Xie Lian kept interrupting his soliloquy to say thank you to each and every one of them. He was used to this type of treatment by now that he didn’t shoo away their kindness—yet still humble enough to thank them for it. 

Well, if there was one thing Hua Cheng was good for, it was taking care of Xie Lian. 

“Ah, Mu Qing,” Xie Lian sheepishly said once they were left alone in the parlor. “Can I ask you something?” 

“No need to be polite about it if you’re going to ask me anyway.” 

Xie Lian flushed. “Ah, I was just wondering… why were you looking for Jian Lan?” 

Mu Qing sighed; he should’ve known there was no way he could keep Xie Lian from finding out. “It’s really not something you should concern yourself with, Your Highness.”

“Ah…” said Xie Lian, deflating. He looked like Mu Qing just kicked a puppy in front of him, and Mu Qing glanced away guiltily.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to ask her for advice, is all,” he said. 

Xie Lian blinked, obviously not expecting that answer. “I see,” he said thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, Jian Lan left Ghost City a while ago. I’m uncertain of her whereabouts now. I apologize.” 

Mu Qing frowned. Of course she’d be gone; why would she come back to a place where she knew people would be able to easily find her? “It’s not your fault, Your Highness,” he said. “Thank you for your assistance.”  

Xie Lian hummed, tapping a finger to his lips. “Well,” he said, “I may not be Jian Lan, but… perhaps I can help?” 

Mu Qing glanced up at Xie Lian. He was looking so earnestly at Mu Qing, his eyes wide and smile soft. Mu Qing knew that Xie Lian had been making a great effort to be genuine friends with him, and it always made him feel guilty when he brushed off Xie Lian’s attempts at friendship for the sake of preserving his dignity. Xie Lian was always so sincere in the help he offered that it was hard to deny him the opportunity to make himself feel useful.

Well, Mu Qing wouldn’t be opposed to talking to his friend; in fact, Xie Lian might be the only person who perfectly understood this exact situation. 

He set his cup of tea down, fiddling with his fingers. “It’s about Feng Xin.” 

“Ah,” Xie Lian said, anxiety overtaking his features. “You’re not… planning on leaving him, are you?” 

“What?! Of course not!” Mu Qing cried in shock. “No—why would you think that?! Has he said anything to you?!”  

“Of course he didn’t!” Xie Lian immediately appeased with a desperate wave of his hands. “Sorry—sorry! I just worry for you two! I didn’t mean anything by it, really! What do you need advice about?” 

Mu Qing didn’t believe him, but he wasn’t about to press. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to avoid looking at Xie Lian. “He won’t have sex with me,” he muttered. Then, after that statement, it was like the floodgates opened and couldn’t be closed. “He hasn’t even kissed me. I’ve tried everything, Your Highness. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I… I was hoping Jian Lan might be able to help me figure it out.” 

Xie Lian hummed thoughtfully, and Mu Qing was almost shocked by the way Xie Lian was actually taking him seriously before remembering who he was speaking to. “I see. Does Feng Xin know you want to have sex with him?” 

Hearing Xie Lian, his prince, say it so bluntly made Mu Qing blush furiously, and he ducked his head so he could hide behind the curtain of his bangs. “I’m certain he does. I’ve not been subtle about it.” 

“You know, Jian Lan once told me that Feng Xin initially had no interest in having sex with her,” Xie Lian began. “She said he’d spend all night sitting on the chair beside her bed so he could just talk to her. Could it be that Feng Xin simply isn’t interested in having sex as a whole, and it’s not something to do with you?” 

Mu Qing considered that, grateful that Xie Lian was thinking about this rationally and hearing Mu Qing out instead of immediately placating his worries. “That makes sense, but I know Feng Xin is interested and wants to have sex. He doesn’t hide it very well, and he often leaves me to… ah, take care of it himself. I think… I think it’s just me he doesn’t want.” 

“Why do you think that?” Xie Lian said, looking quite shocked. 

“Well, he’s clearly attracted to women, so I thought… I thought if I dressed up like one he’d finally want to have sex with me, but he didn’t.” 

Xie Lian’s brows furrowed sympathetically. “Mu Qing…” he said, lifting a hand to his head. “Feng Xin loves you because you’re you.” 

“I find that increasingly hard to believe these days, Your Highness.”

Xie Lian sighed. “When San Lang and I first got together, we experienced a similar problem,” he said. “San Lang was worried about disrespecting me or making me uncomfortable, so he never initiated anything. It took him a while before he got comfortable enough to initiate on his own, even though he knew I loved him. Perhaps Feng Xin is experiencing the same feelings…?”

Mu Qing frowned. “Your Highness, what do you mean? Are you suggesting that I… take the initiative?” 

“Mm, if you’re willing.” 

“Of course I’m willing!” said Mu Qing as he slammed his hands down on the table. “Just… um, how exactly do I… do that?” 

Xie Lian flushed. “Ah… well, you could maybe try… dressing up for him? Maybe try touching him, or give him compliments and flirt with him…?” 

No fucking way. 

“Your Highness, I’ve tried all of that. Every single time, he pulls away from me and leaves to jerk off in the bathroom. That’s why I’ve resorted to this,” said Mu Qing hopelessly. 

“Oh,” Xie Lian said, falling silent. Mu Qing buried his face in his hands in response. 

Was that it, then? Was Mu Qing destined to hit a sexual brick wall for the rest of his life? It seemed like no matter what he did there was no way to overcome the last hurdle in his relationship with Feng Xin. 

Could it be that Feng Xin didn’t love Mu Qing anymore? Had Feng Xin been pretending all this time in order to keep him happy? Was that the real reason why he kept pulling away—because he couldn’t bear to have sex with someone he only saw as a friend?

In all regards, the relationship he had with Feng Xin could just be considered a friendship. Sure, they slept in the same bed, lived in the same house, and exchanged casual affection more readily than most friends did, but other than that they hardly did anything together that could separate them from just… two close friends. 

Mu Qing fucking hated it. He wanted a proper relationship, with sex and love and kisses and touches. 

If it truly turned out that Feng Xin no longer wanted Mu Qing—or, gods forbid, if he regret confessing in the first place—then Mu Qing didn’t know how he could survive. 

“Mu Qing,” Xie Lian called, and Mu Qing glanced up at him. “Don’t get in your head yet, okay? I’ll help you figure it out.” 

Mu Qing clenched his shaking firsts. “I just don’t know what to do anymore, Your Highness. If he decides he no longer wants me, I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

Xie Lian reached across the table and laid his hand atop Mu Qing’s. His thumb swiped back and forth across the back of Mu Qing’s hand until he relaxed. 

“Trust me, Mu Qing, I can assure you that he loves you,” said Xie Lian. Mu Qing looked up at him pitifully. “Do you… do you think that perhaps your vows could be a factor in this?” 

Mu Qing blinked in teary confusion. “My vows?” he repeated. “But, Your Highness, you know I don’t follow those vows anymore. I changed my cultivation path decades ago.” 

“Does Feng Xin know that, though?” asked Xie Lian. 

“Huh? Of course he does,” said Mu Qing. “I changed it for him, after all.” 

“…Did you ever tell him that?” 

…Fuck! 

“Your Highness, I have to go,” said Mu Qing, standing up so abruptly the couch slid back. Xie Lian looked amused, his melodious laughter following Mu Qing out of Paradise Manor as he ran towards Feng Xin. 

 

—❀

 

When Feng Xin first ascended, he had built himself a home in a secluded valley deep within the Huangshan mountains. Over the centuries, Feng Xin had added to the initial cottage until it became a small estate complete with a courtyard. It made for a slightly eerie sight; some of the buildings were clearly older than others, with fraying wood and chipped paint.

Thick fog filled the valley and curled around the nearby mountain peaks like a rolling sea of clouds, and the odd umbrella shaped pines cast their shadows over the estate. It was deliciously cool and quiet this far in seclusion, only the soft hoots of owls and the bubbling of the river nearby disrupting the silence. 

It was shortly past midnight when Mu Qing arrived. He patted the enchanted stone lion guards at the gate, who were trained to let him in without question at this point. 

Mu Qing checked each room of the estate quietly. The parlor and kitchen were empty, the oil lamps dim as they puttered out. Mu Qing put them out before moving on. 

The study and armory were also similarly abandoned. The only room left was Feng Xin’s private chambers, and Mu Qing took a steadying breath as he knocked on the door before sliding it open. 

Feng Xin’s chambers were far cozier than one would expect of a man like him; an oversized, plush canopy bed with silk sheets and curtains stood in the middle of the room, the curtains fluttering lightly in the night breeze. There were scrolls, pillows, and robes thrown haphazardly around the room, left to rot wherever their owner had thrown them. To the left of the entrance, under the open window, was a writing desk whose oak wood had become stained black with the amount of times Feng Xin had spilled ink on it. 

Feng Xin was sitting at this writing desk, his calves neatly tucked under him as he scribbled away. He looked up at Mu Qing curiously before giving him a bright smile. Mu Qing and Xie Lian were the only people allowed to enter this estate, so Feng Xin knew by now to expect one or the other when the stone lions alerted him to a visitor’s presence. 

“Baobei! What are you doing here?” he said with a pleased grin. “Did you miss me so much you couldn’t wait to see me until I came back this weekend?” 

“Yes,” Mu Qing said, crossing his arms over his chest protectively. He had come here with a single goal in mind and he was going to achieve it, dignity be damned! 

Feng Xin blushed and turned away, clearly not having expected such a blunt answer. “I’m almost done here,” he said, patting his desk. “Then we can go to bed. Why don’t you take a bath and change into some sleep robes?”

Mu Qing pondered this for a second before nodding. He’d spent all day running around Ghost City, and he was sure he looked rather ragged in his old robes. So Mu Qing saw himself to Feng Xin’s baths, cleansing himself until his skin was irritated enough to blush a healthy pink while his hair shone. 

It was only when Mu Qing started to apply oil to his skin after putting his hair up in a bun that he realized he had forgotten to grab a spare set of Feng Xin’s sleeping robes on the way to the bathroom. He sat on the warm stone, gnawing his lip as he considered his options. 

He could call out to Feng Xin either out loud or through their communication array to ask him to bring over some robes. 

Or… he could walk out naked and grab the robes himself. It wasn’t like there was anyone else in the estate that could see him. Besides… wouldn’t it all be the same, whether or not Mu Qing got dressed in front of Feng Xin? 

Mu Qing quickly exited the bathroom without giving himself time to think it over. He saw himself back into Feng Xin’s room, making his way over to the armoire to pull out some robes. 

There was suddenly a loud cracking noise from behind him, and Mu Qing flinched before whipping around to investigate. Feng Xin had cracked his centuries old oak table in half, his face bright red and eyes wide. 

“Fuck!” Feng Xin coughed, his voice rough. “Fuck, you can’t just—you can’t just fucking get naked in front of me!” 

Mu Qing frowned, the sharp pang of humiliation tearing through his organs. He quickly tugged something from the wardrobe out and slid it on, turning his back to Feng Xin so he could hide his enraged tears. 

“I didn’t realize you found me so repulsive,” he snapped. 

“W-what? No, Mu Qing, of course I don’t find you repulsive!” Feng Xin said, getting to his feet. “I just—you can’t just—!”

”Just what, Feng Xin?” Mu Qing said, his voice wobbling. This seemed to be the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back; all the hurt and insecurity Mu Qing had felt over rejection after rejection seemed to come pouring out with no way of stopping it. “Do—do you not love me anymore? Is that it?” 

Feng Xin was wringing his hands in front of him. He stepped forward to embrace Mu Qing, but Mu Qing just side stepped him. “Mu Qing—“ 

“Just what is it, Feng Xin?” Mu Qing pressed, feeling even more humiliated when he felt the hot sting of tears on his cheeks. “Why don’t you want me? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No!” Feng Xin cried. “Mu Qing, please listen to me, I’ll always love you. I—it’s my fault that you’re feeling this way, not yours. I just—“ Feng Xin cut himself off here, looking guiltily at the wall behind Mu Qing. 

“Just what?!” Mu Qing asked, growing frustrated with Feng Xin’s evasiveness. He crossed his arms, glaring at Feng Xin as if that could help protect him from heartbreak. “I keep trying to get closer to you, and you keep pushing me away. How can I possibly believe you love me when you won’t even kiss me?” 

Feng Xin’s mouth opened and shut as tears dripped off his chin. “Mu Qing—“

“I want you so bad that I don’t even know what to do with myself,” continued Mu Qing. “I want to touch you, I want to kiss you, I want to have sex with you. I love you—is it really so wrong to want to be close to the man I love?” 

Feng Xin broke into a sob, covering his hands with his face. It was the first time Mu Qing had ever said ‘I love you’ to Feng Xin; Feng Xin had said it multiple times throughout the years, but Mu Qing could never muster up the courage to say it out loud before now. 

Mu Qing sighed and enveloped Feng Xin in a tight embrace, unable to stand the sight of his tears. Feng Xin went willingly, sobbing into Mu Qing’s shoulder while clinging to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Feng Xin cried. “I’m sorry, Mu Qing, I’m just afraid.” 

Mu Qing ran a hand through his hair soothingly. “Afraid…?” he repeated. “What is there to be afraid of? Would you—would you prefer if I took the form of a female while we made love?” 

“No!” Feng Xin wailed, holding Mu Qing tighter. “I want you! I—I’m fucking afraid of losing you! I don’t want—fuck, I want you in all the ways you want me and more, but I can’t—I can’t allow myself to take anything, because I’ll want more, a-and I’ll no longer be able to hold myself back, and then I’ll ruin your cultivation and break your vows and you’ll hate me, and quite frankly Mu Qing I think would kill myself if you hated me again—“ 

…No fucking way. Xie Lian was right. 

The relief that flooded through Mu Qing in that moment was so intense that he felt like his soul had been punched from his body. He allowed Feng Xin to hold him as he babbled on and on about Mu Qing’s vows, and Mu Qing couldn’t help but laugh, bringing his hands up to hide his face from Feng Xin.

Feng Xin froze, a hurt little noise escaping him. “Mu Qing,” he said, his voice breaking. “It’s okay. You don’t have to cry. I’ll—I’ll get better at controlling myself, don’t worry, okay? I’ll never do anything to hurt your cultivation.”

Mu Qing laughed harder, almost hysterical.

“What—are you laughing?!” Feng Xin demanded with an offended gasp. “It’s not funny, Mu Qing! I made you feel terrible! There’s nothing funny about your misery! Stop it!”  

Mu Qing couldn’t stop his fit of giggles, but he could tell Feng Xin was getting more and more upset by his reaction by the second, so he brought his hands up to hold Feng Xin’s face. He brushed his thumbs along Feng Xin’s cheeks, the rest of his fingers cradling his head behind his ears as he brought their foreheads together. Feng Xin allowed this, though he still seemed a bit miffed. 

“Feng Xin,” Mu Qing said once he had finally caught his breath. “My love. Look at me.” 

Feng Xin pulled back slightly so he could look at Mu Qing in the eye, his expression guarded. 

“Feng Xin, my love,” Mu Qing repeated, “there are no vows to break.” 

Feng Xin’s jaw dropped, his brows furrowed. He seemed to be unable to process this for a couple seconds, his eyes flicking from Mu Qing to the wall then back again. “What?” 

Mu Qing laughed again. “I’ve been an established god for almost a thousand years, Feng Xin. Such petty things like cultivation paths no longer matter,” he shook his head before leaning back in. “Besides… I changed cultivation paths for you after you confessed to me, as I had assumed you’d be breaking all my vows anyway.” 

“Oh my god,” Feng Xin gasped, immediately bursting into tears again. “Oh my god.” 

Mu Qing smiled, absolutely giddy with thousands of emotions only Feng Xin could make him feel. 

“Baobei, I’m going to kiss you now,” announced Feng Xin. 

Mu Qing’s heart kickstarted into overdrive. “Please.” 

After centuries upon centuries of longing, Mu Qing expected Feng Xin to kiss ferociously; to kiss with all the power he put behind his bow.

Instead, Feng Xin gently cradled his head and tilted it to the side, pressing his lips softly to Mu Qing’s. His tongue occasionally darted out to lick Mu Qing’s lips, the kiss unhurried and intimate. Mu Qing was left clinging to Feng Xin, panting into his lover’s mouth while his arms and legs trembled. 

“Feng Xin,” he whimpered, tilting his head to expose his neck. 

Feng Xin took the bait, eagerly latching onto the column of Mu Qing’s throat to suck love bites into his pale skin. Mu Qing moaned and arched into Feng Xin, his heart pounding harder when Feng Xin hissed in pleasure.

Feng Xin slowly started nudging Mu Qing backwards until he hit the bed, and then Feng Xin picked him up and helped settle him in the middle of the mattress. They were sitting in each other’s laps, whining and panting into each other’s mouths. 

“Mu Qing, Mu Qing,” Feng Xin breathed. His hands were roaming up and down Mu Qing’s body, still devastatingly careful with where he touched as if afraid of spooking Mu Qing. 

Mu Qing moaned and deepened the kiss, starting to realize Feng Xin wouldn’t do it himself. Feng Xin gave a full body shudder, his tongue licking and sucking Mu Qing’s with a desperate sort of ferocity now that he knew he could. 

Feng Xin nudged Mu Qing’s knees aside so he could settle between them. His mouth only parted from Mu Qing’s long enough for them to catch their breath, and even in those intervals he was biting along Mu Qing’s neck as if he couldn’t bear to part for a second. 

“Mu Qing,” he whispered, lips trailing across Mu Qing’s exposed skin. “Would you please allow me the honor of making love to you?” 

It was so fucking cheesy that if Mu Qing was in his right mind, he’d hit and yell at Feng Xin for being so embarrassing. He wasn’t in his right mind, though, so Mu Qing only quivered in Feng Xin’s touch and nodded his head rapidly. 

“Please,” he murmured. “Please, Feng Xin, take me and make me yours. I want to feel you.”

Feng Xin groaned, lightly biting Mu Qing’s tongue. He conjured a jar of oil out of thin air, placing it between his thighs to warm it up.

“I’m going to undress you now,” Feng Xin said. “Tell me if you want me to stop at any time, okay?”  

Mu Qing nodded in affirmation, his breath stuttering. He was nervous about this part, about getting naked with Feng Xin with the intent of having sex. He hadn’t been naked in front of another living being in almost a millennia, save for earlier that night when he emerged from the baths. 

Feng Xin seems to understand this even though it was not explicitly said, because he always understood Mu Qing. He undid the belt of the robes with shaking hands, slowly pushing it off Mu Qing’s shoulders. His hands ran up and down Mu Qing’s bare torso reassuringly, giving him a light kiss as he pushed the rest of the robes off and laid Mu Qing bare before him. 

Mu Qing panted, his face and chest flushing under the attention Feng Xin was giving him. Feng Xin was staring at him without reservation, his expression open and hungry. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Mu Qing,” he whispered, grabbing hold of Mu Qing’s slim waist with his large hands. “Such a pretty cock you have.”

Mu Qing groaned, his cock already hard and leaking at the praise. Feng Xin grinned, sealing their mouths in a wet and heated kiss once again.  

“Don’t say such embarrassing things,” Mu Qing whined. 

Feng Xin ignored him and placed pretty kisses over his collarbones. Mu Qing was content to bask in this attention for a couple of moments, but impatience got the better of him and he started pushing Feng Xin away so he could undress his lover. 

Feng Xin complied, sitting back on his heels as Mu Qing undressed him and tossed his robe away without a care. 

Mu Qing paused to drink the in the sight, his mouth going dry. He’d seen Feng Xin shirtless before, of course he had, and lifetimes upon lifetimes ago he had even seen Feng Xin naked when they were mere subordinates. Feng Xin had obviously matured in that time, his muscles growing thicker and more sinewy. While Mu Qing had remained relatively hairless throughout his entire life, Feng Xin was covered in hair; soft and dark over his thighs, ass, shoulders, and chest. He was absolutely gorgeous; nothing in the world could compare to the utter beauty in Mu Qing’s lap. 

Mu Qing’s breath hitched, his eyes traveling lower so he could finally see with his own eyes what made Feng Xin into Ju Yang. 

His cock was long and thick, reaching up past his belly button. It was blushing a few shades redder than Feng Xin’s cheeks, and pre-cum trailed steadily down the shaft and highlighted the bulging veins. If Mu Qing tried to grab it right now, he was sure his fingers wouldn’t even be able to fully wrap around it. 

The temptation was too strong to resist, so Mu Qing hesitantly reached out until his fingers brushed the head of Feng Xin’s cock. Feng Xin groaned, low and loud, and Mu Qing’s hand darted away. He looked up at his lover in trepidation, worried he had accidentally hurt Feng Xin. 

Feng Xin didn’t look like he was in pain, though. His face was bright red and his lips bitten raw and bloody, and tears had started to slip out from behind his shut eyes. Mu Qing slowly reached out again, watching Feng Xin’s face as his fingers wrapped around his cock. 

Feng Xin shuddered, his wet eyes slowly blinking open. He was looking at Mu Qing through foggy lust, his brows pinched. 

“Mu Qing,” he mumbled, voice cracking at the end. 

Mu Qing gave an experimental tug. Feng Xin keened, his hips jerking into the touch. 

“F-fuck,” Mu Qing stuttered under his breath, frantically searching for the jar of oil stashed between Feng Xin’s thighs. It was sufficiently warmed up now, and Mu Qing coated his hand in it before returning to Feng Xin’s cock. 

Feng Xin was already trembling, and he held on tightly to Mu Qing’s shoulders as Mu Qing jerked him off. Mu Qing grabbed one of Feng Xin’s hands, leading it down until it was enveloping his own.

”Show me,” Mu Qing sighed, staring down at the cock in his hand. “Show me how to make you feel good.”

Feng Xin shifted so he could fully pull Mu Qing into his lap, their cocks brushing. Mu Qing gasped, his hand faltering. Feng Xin kept him steady with one hand supporting the base of his back, the other wrapping around both of their leaking dicks before pumping. 

“Like this, baobei,” he breathed into Mu Qing’s ear, his nose dragging against the side of his jaw. 

“Fuck!” Mu Qing whimpered, his head falling back as he thrust into Feng Xin’s hand.

He was weak, so weak, but he didn’t want to take his hand off Feng Xin—so he let his forehead collapse onto Feng Xin’s shoulder. The feverish air of accumulated body heat trapped within the canopy of the bed prohibited Mu Qing from feeling cold for even a second, sweat rolling down his body. He could feel the places it accumulated grossly; in his hair, making his scalp itchy and hot; his belly, wet and heaving; his legs, until his and Feng Xin’s thighs were so slick with sweat that Mu Qing would slide off his lap if not for the steadying hand on his back. His hand was trembling around their cocks, only the grip and pull of Feng Xin’s hand keeping it from falling away. 

Feng Xin moved his hand to grab a handful of Mu Qing’s hair, tugging on it harshly to snap his head back and expose his throat. Mu Qing moaned, loud and unrestrained, his spine curling backwards until his body was a pretty arch only supported by Feng Xin. Feng Xin took this new position to fasten his mouth over one of Mu Qing’s nipples, and Mu Qing screamed and nearly came right there. 

“My love,” Mu Qing babbled mindlessly, grinding his cock into Feng Xin’s as he cradled his head to his chest. “Feng Xin, my love, feels good.” 

“Yeah?” Feng Xin broke away from Mu Qing’s chest long enough to answer, his hand working faster. “Go ahead and cum for me, baobei. I won’t stop you. The only thing holding you back is yourself.”

Mu Qing groaned, his hand tightening around their cocks involuntarily as he came. Feng Xin grunted in surprise, his hips stuttering and unconsciously biting down on Mu Qing’s nipple as he found his release. 

Mu Qing relaxed into his lover’s hold, his entire body trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Feng Xin let him recover with reassuring words and kisses, lowering Mu Qing down until he was lying on the bed. He knocked Mu Qing’s knees aside, settling himself between his legs as he poured the warm oil onto his hand. 

“I’m going to prepare you now, baobei,” said Feng Xin with a kiss to his knee. “Are you ready?” 

“Mmph,” grunted Mu Qing, his tongue still tangled. He lifted a cum-covered hand to his face, inspecting the substance curiously. 

It was Feng Xin’s cum on his hand. He almost moaned at the thought, darting his tongue out between his fingers so he could taste his lover’s pleasure. 

“Fuck, Mu Qing!” Feng Xin hissed, his eyes so dark with lust that it almost made Mu Qing feel like he was being hunted by a predator. 

“You taste good,” Mu Qing mumbled as he cleaned off his own hand. 

“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin groaned, drawing out Mu Qing’s given name. His chest was heaving, and his tits—fuck, his pretty tits were bouncing with the force of his heartbeat. 

“Ju Yang,” Mu Qing called back, trying to make his voice as seductive as possible. “Please fuck me already, Ju Yang.” 

“Mu Qing….” 

“Please fuck me and fill me up with your cum, General Ju Yang. Please fuck me pregnant with your sons. Please stretch me wide around your cock. Plea—a-a-ah!” 

Feng Xin had cut off Mu Qing by swallowing cock down in one go. At the same time, one of Feng Xin’s oiled fingers had easily slid all the way into his hole, taking advantage of Mu Qing’s distraction. 

Mu Qing’s body tensed as he pushed into the pleasure, his hips gyrating and legs spasming. No matter where he went, he couldn’t escape Feng Xin. He sobbed and arched into his lover’s mouth, his hands burying themselves in Feng Xin’s hair. 

Feng Xin pulled off his cock with a wet pop, his free hand coming to jerk Mu Qing off. He mouthed all over Mu Qing’s hips, biting bruises where no one but them would ever be able to see them. 

He leaned back down and swiped a tongue across Mu Qing’s balls, adding a second finger. Tears were streaming down Mu Qing’s face now, overwhelmed by the onslaught of pleasure. Feng Xin didn’t care, simply continuing his task of devouring Mu Qing like he was a starving man. 

Then, out of nowhere, Feng Xin’s fingers brushed over a spot inside him that had Mu Qing screaming as he came for a second time. 

This orgasm was completely different from the previous one, stemming from his spine and spreading throughout his body like flames. His toes curled as he sobbed, riding Feng Xin’s fingers. 

Feng Xin didn’t stop his assault on Mu Qing, adding a third and then a fourth finger. Mu Qing brought a hand up to muffle his cries, his entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

“Feng Xin!” he cried. “It’s too much, too much—!” 

“You can take it, baobei,” Feng Xin assured with a kiss. “You’re almost ready to take me, just one more.” 

“No!” Mu Qing mewled. “I want you now! Please, Feng Xin, please!”

Feng Xin grunted, his head dropping onto Mu Qing’s stomach as he pumped his fingers in and out of his hole roughly. “Fuck,” he breathed. “F-fuck, be patient baobei. Can you be patient for me? Just a little longer, okay? I’ll make sure you feel good. I’ll take care of you.” 

“W-why?” Mu Qing hiccuped tearfully. “Why won’t you fuck me already?” 

Feng Xin made a noise like he had just been hit, crawling up until he could kiss Mu Qing’s tears away. His fingers were still stretching his hole, and in this position they didn’t reach as deep, but Mu Qing still groaned and clenched down around them. 

“Soon,” Feng Xin said, his voice tight. “I need—I don’t want to hurt you, baobei. I need to make sure you’re relaxed enough to take me.” 

Mu Qing couldn’t take it anymore. He bit back a wail, his nails digging into Feng Xin’s shoulders. 

“Just—just one more, and then I’ll fuck you, okay?” Feng Xin promised. “Just one more.” 

Mu Qing closed his eyes and nodded. His chest was heaving and flushed red, and Feng Xin leaned down to continue his abuse of Mu Qing’s nipples. Mu Qing keened, clamping down on Feng Xin’s fingers as he came all over their bellies for a third time. 

He was vaguely aware of the sounds of his harsh breathing, his mind floating off somewhere above him. Feng Xin kissed him, and it was more their tongues brushing than an actual kiss. Mu Qing clung to him, endlessly grateful that Feng Xin allowed him this momentary reprieve. 

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Feng Xin whispered once Mu Qing’s breaths returned to normal. “Is that okay?”

The pleasant haze surrounding Mu Qing’s brain had begun to dissipate, but with those words it was back full force. He nodded so hard it made him dizzy, and Feng Xin chuckled while kissing him before moving back. 

He grabbed Mu Qing’s knees, pushing them all the way up to his shoulders. Mu Qing’s eyes were fixed between his legs as Feng Xin’s cock pressed against his entrance, his lip bleeding from how hard he was biting it. He glanced up at Feng Xin for a second, finding his lover already gazing back at him. 

They stared at each other for a split second before Mu Qing nodded. Feng Xin smiled and kissed him. He intertwined their hands together, palm to palm and fingers tangled, and pressed them to the bed above Mu Qing’s head. 

Then, his cock was sliding easily into Mu Qing’s warm body. 

Mu Qing gasped at the intrusion, his hole fluttering around Feng Xin’s massive cock. It didn’t hurt, of course it didn’t, but there was just so much of it that Mu Qing couldn’t concentrate on anything else. 

“O-oh,” Feng Xin stuttered out, breathless in a way that didn’t seem it was just from their activities. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, Mu Qing, do you feel that?” 

Mu Qing twisted his head to the side. “Feel what? Your massive dick inside of me? Of course I fucking feel it, asshole.”

“No,” Feng Xin said, shaking his head. “No, it’s—ah, fuck!” 

Concerned, Mu Qing sat up, cupping Feng Xin’s face in his hands. “What is it?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you need to stop?” 

“No!” Feng Xin cried, wrapping his arms around Mu Qing’s torso. His hips snapped up, burying himself deep. “Fuck! You’re telling me you can’t feel that?” 

Mu Qing moaned, clinging to Feng Xin. “F-feel what? My love, you’re worrying me.” 

“Fuck,” Feng Xin repeated with an experimental roll of his hips. “Fuck, I think I can feel all your emotions right now!” 

Mu Qing gaped at him, slowly growing more and more horrified. “What?!” 

All of his emotions?! Even all the—

Feng Xin kissed him, deep and slow. “Stop. It’s not scary,” he whispered. “I can feel how long you’ve been waiting for this, how good I’m making you feel. How much you love having me inside of you.”

“B-but how?!” Mu Qing stammered through a blush. “You’ve—you’ve never been able to do this before!”

“Must be because of all the prayers,” Feng Xin said, licking Mu Qing’s neck. “This body was—mmph—made for pleasure, after all.”  

As if he had to prove it, Feng Xin pulled out torturously slow before slamming back in. Mu Qing moaned loudly and went limp in Feng Xin’s hands at the pleasure. He was pulled into Feng Xin’s lap, Feng Xin holding him tight with both arms. One was wrapped securely around the small of his back, the other coming up to curl around Mu Qing’s shoulders. 

His hips kept rolling with that same delicious, painful care. Mu Qing was crying again, little hiccuping breaths escaping him with each thrust. 

Feng Xin’s dick was so large that he had no need for finesse to find and hit Mu Qing’s prostate, yet he still angled his hips up so he hit it with every thrust. Mu Qing was sobbing in his arms now, the pleasure so intense that he felt as if his consciousness was floating away from him. 

They were pressed chest to chest, their nipples brushing with each thrust. It sent electrifying shocks of pleasure down Mu Qing’s spine, and he could do nothing more than writhe and whine in ecstasy. 

“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin moaned before leaning down to suck on a nipple again. “Baobei, fuck. You look so beautiful like this, taking my cock so well.”  

Mu Qing wailed, both arms reaching up to curl around Feng Xin’s head protectively. His hands were buried in Feng Xin’s hair, his bun long ruined as the beautiful brown tresses flowed down around them. 

“Feng Xin, please,” he cried, not even sure what he was begging for. “Please.” 

“Don’t—don’t call me that,” Feng Xin panted breathlessly. “It’s not my name.” 

Mu Qing blinked up in confusion before he understood what Feng Xin was asking of him. He tightened his arms around Feng Xin’s shoulders, turning his head so he could whisper in Feng Xin’s ear. 

“My love,” he said. “My love, my love, my love—“

Feng Xin let out a deliciously low moan, dropping his head to Mu Qing’s breastbone. They were still wrapped in a tight embrace as Feng Xin began to pound Mu Qing into the mattress, his thrusts becoming more harsh as he lost control of himself. 

Mu Qing had heard mortals refer to the act of lovemaking as ‘better than heaven’. He would always scoff at this, thinking it was absurd that mortals would compare sex to something they had never experienced before. 

Well, now Mu Qing was experiencing both, and he could say without a doubt that sex was better. 

Being this close to Feng Xin, so utterly enveloped in his warmth and scent, sharing the deepest part of himself—fuck, it was overwhelming. Everywhere Feng Xin touched him sent fiery tingles down his skin, his cock grinding against his prostrate with every thrust. 

And now—now, Feng Xin could feel Mu Qing’s emotions. Fuck, all Mu Qing had ever wanted was the chance to be close to Feng Xin and be understood by him, and now he could. Now, Feng Xin could feel the exact depth of Mu Qing’s emotions, could feel how much Mu Qing loved him and admired him. 

To make Feng Xin understand he was loved; it was all Mu Qing had ever wanted. 

“Oh,” Feng Xin whispered, his voice thick as his hips stuttered. He lifted his face from Mu Qing’s heaving chest to look him in the eyes, his own glistening with tears. “Oh, Mu Qing, baobei, my love. I love you too, always.” 

Mu Qing broke down in a sob then, his orgasm ripping through him so thoroughly he whited out for a second. He was distantly aware of Feng Xin calling his name, his thrusts becoming uncoordinated as he rode the pleasure of Mu Qing’s spasming walls around his cock. Mu Qing might’ve came another time, just from feeling Feng Xin spill his seed inside of him. 

Feng Xin was snuggled against Mu Qing’a side when Mu Qing finally came back to his body. Mu Qing twisted until they were both laying on their sides, face to face. Mu Qing hummed and kissed Feng Xin, now that Feng Xin wouldn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” Mu Qing finally murmured with a hoarse voice after a couple moments of blissful silence. “I… I really enjoyed that.” 

“You don’t need to thank me for that, baobei,” Feng Xin laughed. “Fuck, that was amazing.” 

“Mm,” Mu Qing sleepily agreed. “Best sex of my life.” 

Feng Xin laughed, the sound like a cool balm against Mu Qing’s overworked nerves. “Yeah? Who’s my competition? Your hand?”

Mu Qing broke into laughter too, swatting Feng Xin away. Feng Xin simply tugged him back, the two of them exchanging lazy kisses as they basked in the after glow.

”Were you really prepared to go the rest of our lives without having sex just because of my vows?” Mu Qing quietly asked.

Feng Xin looked confused by this question. “Of course I was,” he said. “When I told you I loved you, it wasn’t with the intent of having sex with you. Just having you was enough for me.” 

Mu Qing shuddered. He had no idea what the fuck he had done to deserve someone like Feng Xin. 

He didn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch Feng Xin’s body, sliding his hands over his shoulders and down his chest. His stomach jumped adorably when Mu Qing’s fingers skated over his abdomen, and Feng Xin let out a little breathless laugh. 

“Feng Xin,” he whispered. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Feng Xin repeated back to him without hesitation. “Fuck, baobei, I love you so much. I’ll tell you as many times as I can, as many times as you want to hear it, as many times as you’ll allow me to.” 

Mu Qing smiled and allowed himself to doze off in his lover’s arms. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes before he came to, the feeling of a warm rag on his thighs stirring him from slumber. 

“Here,” Feng Xin said, handing Mu Qing a gourd of cool water. Mu Qing took it greedily, his throat sore and raw. Feng Xin gave him an adoring smile, returning to his task of cleaning him up. 

“I had a plan, you know,” he said. “I was going to ask you to marry me in the fall. You’d say yes, and then we’d share our first kiss. Then we’d have a big wedding, and during the reception we’d leave to consummate our marriage in one of your temples—“ 

“Why does it have to be in one of my temples?” Mu Qing demanded. 

“Mu Qing, love, shut up,” Feng Xin said, lovingly patting Mu Qing’s cum-covered belly with the warm washcloth. “Anyway, we’d consummate our marriage in one of your temples, and I’d decorate the altar with roses and pillows for you.” 

“You don’t really want to have temple sex with me. You just want to compete with Hua Cheng since he and His Highness had their first time in a temple.” 

“Mu Qing!” Feng Xin exclaimed, pinching Mu Qing’s inner thigh. Mu Qing kicked him away with a laugh, and Feng Xin wrestled his way back to Mu Qing’s side. “I really did want to make your first time special for you. You deserve at least that.” 

“Feng Xin, this was special for me, since it was with you,” reassured Mu Qing. “All I’ve ever wanted was to do this with you. It was perfect for me.”

Feng Xin blinked a few times before looking down at the cum-stained washcloth with a blush. “Oh,” he said. “It was for me, too. Um, perfect, that is.” 

They sat in silence for a couple more while Feng Xin cleaned them off. Mu Qing swallowed, his throat clicking. “We could still do it, you know.” 

Feng Xin made a confused noise. “Hmm? Do what?” 

Mu Qing nudged Feng Xin. “Get married,” he clarified. “Have… consummate our marriage. In your temple, not mine.”  

Feng Xin smiled, leaning forward to kiss Mu Qing languidly. “Worst marriage proposal ever, baobei,” he teased. 

Mu Qing wrinkled his nose and shoved Feng Xin away. “Get away from me! I don’t want to marry you anymore!” 

Feng Xin laughed unabashedly. He tossed the soiled washcloth off to the side somewhere now that they had been cleaned, settling himself and Mu Qing under the covers of the bed.

“You don’t mean that, baobei,” he said, pulling Mu Qing close until Mu Qing was curled against his chest. 

“…My awful husband,” Mu Qing whispered, reaching a hand behind his head to thread his fingers into Feng Xin’s hair. 

“Mm,” Feng Xin agreed, already dozing off. “What a terrible lover you have.” 

Mu Qing smiled, snuggling deep down into his lover’s arms as he fell asleep.

 

—❀

 

They got married two months later, and as a compromise, they consummated their marriage in both of their temples. 

Notes:

wow i never thought i would write smut again bc #embarrassing but these two grabbed me by the throat, chained me down, and wouldn’t let me leave until i finished this… anyway i hope yall enjoyed it ❤️ originally there was gonna be a bathing together scene and feng xin’s plan of how to take mu qing’s virginity was the original script for this… alas my fellow writers (and feng xin) know that what you want is not always what will happen

im on tumblr @foxfeast btw if anyone would like to come say hi 😌

ANYWAY THANKS BYE MWAHHHHH