Chapter Text
Not a lot has changed after. It had just been days since then, and ultimately patience would be the most important task Shen Qiao could do going forwards. It would be just as unrealistic and naïve for himself to live in that sort of fantasy where nothing had ever happened, or if it were fixed. He lived in this reality and he could only cling desperately to the pieces his husband's subconscious could allow. Complete normalcy didn’t occur for the rest of the month either as days turned into weeks, but in a sense both men had begun to become closer at a snail’s pace.
Shen Qiao wanted normalcy to come back so badly to the point that he had to practice restraint on those lonely nights alone. It would have to come naturally as it could, forcing it wouldn’t end well for them. All he could really was either take or embrace the opportunities they were given to him. All he could do is rely on their growth together, and how much the current Yan Wushi wanted to be by his side. Yan Wushi taking his hand was not a guarantee, and the idea of that alone frightened him. He was fortunate enough as it was, and the Daoist constantly worried that becoming too attached would stunt the progress. The younger man was still unsure on how to proceed with the entirety of it all as he remained assertive as he could maintain Yan Wushi’s attention on him. Acting like a concubine who lost favor would not be just shameful, but also detrimental if he were not careful. Sometimes, he wondered, the current state of his husband would make him lose interest. Shen Qiao was only human, and the circumstances that followed were reasonable causes of his doubts.
These conceptualizations were common during the early days of the month, days after Yan Wushi decided to give him another chance. It wasn’t until one strange afternoon that his uncertainties grew into assurance and something more like hope rose again.
Around that time, he was sitting by the tea table, legs crossed in a meditating position. In deep concentration, he had blocked almost all external stimuli down to focusing on his mind and body. When he was finally done, he smelt a sweet aroma and opened his eyes to glance at wherever it came from.
Laid upon the table was a plate of assorted sweets, all perfectly placed to fit in limited space along with tea set on a tray. He hadn’t heard Yan Wushi come into the room, so engrossed in his meditation that he had missed obvious signs of someone coming into the room. Expression full of awe, he moved his hand to grab at one of the desserts given to him, an osmanthus cake. Sweets such as dragon beards and Tanghulu and others were placed on the platter as well.
It was oddly gratifying, and strangely sweet.
And strangely specific.
They were among his favorites, ones he occasionally indulged from looking at them once at the vendors to which his husband spoiled him whenever the older man noticed his wandering eyes in time.
The only person who would know that intimately would be him. Everyone else only knew he liked sweets, but not many of his favorites.
He also knew that this person would order them, then arrange them in a way that would not just look pretty, but also according to size and shape on the plate.
The priest wondered what had happened to have Yan Wushi done this today. It was mildly disorienting seeing some sort of thing in front of him.
At the same time, he wants to let himself sink into the incoming wave of joy that unfurled itself in his body. Maybe next time when he sees Yan Wushi again, he’ll ask to sit down with him and share.
He embraces the little bit of happiness, taking a small bite of the cake in his hand. The overall flavor is sugary, and the softness of the cake makes chew easy. The priest let out a sigh of contentment, licking his lips to get rid of the sticky residue.
It was just right.
One night both men were sitting together by the entrance and the platform opening towards the gardens. The moon was high up in the sky surrounded by thousands of stars, some more dim and some slightly bigger than others. Tonight was peaceful, and the color was so dark everything from the trees upwards looked blended. An outline of the top of the tree was only seen if one looked hard enough.
A night lamp was placed between the men as they sat which glowed enough for them to see each other, but anywhere past their feet the light ran out into nothingness. The gardens within a walking distance were no longer visible due to it. Despite that, there was a sense of tranquility.
Yan Wushi who was leaning against the jamb, a leg folded up and the other spread out. Shen Qiao, the opposite, kneeled instead using a small pillow to cushion the surface beneath him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yan Wushi take out a wine bottle from his robes, and a single cup from the same location too. The older man proceeded to uncork the bottle, pouring the liquid into the cup and then sipping it slowly. The entire process repeated, just as deliberate, yet the current silence was not uncomfortable.
The company was pleasant. It wasn’t as tense as it used to be, but sometimes it was buried deep enough to ignore. Yan Wushi taking in his sixth sip of the wine watched Shen Qiao who was still looking up at the sky. The light of the lamp gave his face a light orange glow that illuminated his face in a delicate way to further showcase his immortal beauty. A calm face and eyes full of concentrated wonder led Yan Wushi to stare more intensely than ever.
Filling up the wine halfway once more, he shifted and moved closer to the Daoist bringing the cup that sloshed slightly up to Shen Qiao’s field of vision. Shen Qiao blinked as he moved his head back. He only just now noticed how close Yan Wushi was.
“Ah Qiao, have a taste, hmm? Relax a little more, you still seem tense.”, while he held the cup closer to the other man’s lips waiting. Shen Qiao side eyed him with an eyebrow high up, his head tilted somewhat towards him. Yan Wushi knew Shen Qiao caught on quite easily, and in response to that the older man let out a grin as wide as it could go. His face said, come one take it, his entire expression teasing.
Shen Qiao, who only sighed, didn't protest much against it. He took the cup from his hold, slapped his hand away, and drank the liquor entirely. The taste and aroma spread throughout his taste buds and nose. It was on the bitter end to which Shen Qiao scrunched his face at the taste that spread throughout his mouth. He passed the cup back to Yan Wushi who then poured himself another cup.
Shen Qiao, on the other hand, isn’t paying attention to the surroundings around him as precisely. His face was flushed, his eyes dewier and half lidded. Besides those signs, the other man was swaying gently side to side. This did not go unnoticed by the Huanyue sect leader as he watched the Daoist quickly unravel himself from just a single cup of alcohol. He wasn’t surprised, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t amused by the same man who kept his attention that long.
Suddenly, he felt a weight on his body only to reveal said man looking up at him with a pout and wide eyes. Yan Wushi stilled; he did not know what to do. As far as he knew, Shen Qiao has never been that close before respecting his boundaries over the course they’ve known each other. It’s not the worst thing, just unexpected. Though he must admit that seeing the other man showcase himself in such a way did spring up a few suspecting emotions inside.
Disturbing his thoughts were the sounds of murmurs that he couldn’t quite decipher. Usually, he would find it annoying and downright humiliating, but at this time nothing like that was felt.
He couldn’t help but look back down and sigh before saying, “A-Qiao speak up more, this venerable one can’t hear you properly like this.” The scene itself looked as if a father was trying to get a child to sit up. It felt vaguely familiar, and a scene flashed showing a certain someone just as drunk as he was now before passing out with the words full of worry and grievance said prior.
“Miss you…”, Shen Qiao rubbed his cheek against his chest, and just like that Yan Wushi felt a pair of lips between his brows. It was tender and sweet and short like all the intimate moments they rarely shared.
Amongst the current silence, tiny snores were let out. Yan Wushi, who just witnessed the scene, was stiff the entire time once again not knowing what to do anymore. The man beneath him was asleep with no care in the world, and he was left with nothing apart from dragging the Daoist back to his home.
And that’s exactly what he did.
The sect leader carried him to his room and tucked him into bed after removing the outer robe. Yan Wushi sat by him tugging away the fallen hair and began to get off the bed before pausing briefly. He looked back at the face of his supposed lover, and felt his heart grow fonder for him. Following the urge to do something, he gave back the kiss on the temple and took his leave.
Yan Wushi is sitting under the pavilion with a tea set up on the table. It’s out in the open with no one to bother him. That is until he feels something nudge against his body. That something was an animal, a deer at that pushing itself on to him. Yan Wushi stared down at them, wondering where it came from.
The deer, oblivious, of the man’s inner turmoil, continued its way to fit its head into his palm. Its neck stretched out to reach towards the hand that laid on top of the table. To Yan Wushi the sight was just pitiful, and he should’ve scared it away, but something was nagging at the back of his mind like an itch he could not reach. He would never let a random animal near him, preferring to shoo it away, but the moment he looked back he felt a barrier preventing him from doing so. It was those feelings coming back again, another sign that tells him something or someone he should recognize.
Big Doe eyes stared right back at him, ears twitching every other second. The deer made little bleats and even tried to nibble on the sleeves craving for the demonic sovereign’s attention. With a huff, Yan Wushi yanked his arm away from the deer. The deer continued to stare at him as if waiting for him to do or give him something. No longer waiting patiently for whatever it wanted, the deer sat down beside his seat, and laid its head down on the ground.
The deer’s eyes remind him of a certain someone…
Pain seeped through his skull, spreading quickly, and leaving slowly. Another image came to his head, and this time it gave a small answer he needed. Looking back down at the deer who then decided to fit its way on to his feet, he understood his former self's fascination. He should tease Shen Qiao more often.
With that, he leaned down to pet Ah-Qiao, rubbing along its ears between his finger tips robotically as if he had done it a thousand times. Well, that wouldn't have been wrong to say that.
In return, Ah Qiao licked his palms, and he didn’t feel disgusted at the gesture the little creature did.
However, he did wish that the little shit didn’t start chewing on his sleeves again.
When Shen Qiao was looking for Yan Wushi, doing a small favor for Bian Yanmei to deliver a parcel to him, he saw Yan Wushi from a distance and from there he also saw a brown figure on the ground. Upon getting closer, he recognized it was Ah-Qiao visiting again. It had been a while since he had last seen the deer. Shen Qiao wasn’t worried about them, the deer didn't stray off knowing that within the manor's open space it was safe. The property itself was already large, so it didn't feel trapped either.
When the distance between them shortened, he saw Yan Wushi, to his surprise, petting the deer. Looking up, Yan Wushi also saw the daoist coming by letting a small smirk appear on his lips. Shen Qiao, although accustomed to the swift changing of moods, couldn't help but internally shiver for two reasons. One for the expected teasing, one because Yan Wushi always had affected in ways no one else had, and one for secretly wanting it.
That alone made his toes curl inward.
"Ah Qiao. " His crows feet crinkled as his face became more devious, calling his name which then changed, chiding the deer when it looked back up at him. "No, not you, the other one."
He looked back at Shen Qiao. "Ah Qiao, come sit with me. Would you really leave someone like this one so lonely without company?" He patted next to the empty spot on the side of him. The older man didn’t leave that much space to begin with. That itself posed annoyance on Shen Qiao’s part.
Ah… there he goes . Shen Qiao thought. At least, the old man is behaving in a way easier for this poor daoist to handle.
He, too, can play that game. He sat in the spot given to him with as much grace as he could himself while shoving aside Yan Wushi’s place with enough force to make him move.
Yan Wushi didn't comment on the immaturity but he did raise an eyebrow at the action. Ah Qiao had awoken from the movement, but went back to sleep again after realizing nothing was amiss. Not paying any mind, Shen Qiao placed the item he was supposed to deliver onto the table, sliding it to Yan Wushi .
Yan Wushi didn’t bother to look at it. Instead, he continued to stare down at Shen Qiao with a lazy grin. Shen Qiao suddenly had a feeling something was going to happen. He just didn’t know what. Knowing his husband, it could be anything.
Shen Qiao didn’t notice what Yan Wushi brought up from his sleeve until it touched his lips. His mouth opened in surprise, letting the object fall inside on his tongue. His eyes were wide looking down at the finger that was still on his mouth, then back at his husband. He began chewing it slowly. It was a hard candy.
…It tasted… sweet…
Yan Wushi, the main perpatrator, couldn't help but holler. The sound itself echoed throughout the paviliion, and it startled Ah Qiao. The poor deer frantically ears twitching, as it looked around themselves trying to find out where it came from. Shen Qiao felt even more dazed out from the laughter alone. It brought a smile to his face which then turned wider.
Yan Wushi stood up suddenly, hiding the package in his robes, and left. However, before leaving, the sect leader tucked loose hair behind Shen Qiao’s ear, his hand moving across the other’s jawline lifting his chin slightly before the contact was gone. The touch was soft, more gentler than anything, and for an instant it felt like the Yan wushi from before came back.
Shen Qiao was left to recollect himself. He sunk down to the ground, burying his red face in his hands. The only company with him was Ah Qiao, who made itself known nibbling his robes next for a snack. He was alone to deal with the butterflies in his stomach.
From that point on, Shen Qiao took note that their relationship had taken a turn. At some point Yan Wushi became more flirtatious, more willing to simply touch him, and it had only been month two since he had lost his memory. At some point, he became more touchy, and it reminded the daoist of the first time he became sticky like a cat that wouldn't stop pestering him. And he often let the cat do what it wanted, for the most part. The intensity rose and sometimes it was stagnant, but he never would have thought that it would be a good thing. He was glad that there was fast progress. Nonetheless, he held on tightly to the hope that it would continue to grow steadily.
Sometimes, Yan Wushi would surprise him by asking him about this memory and that memory. Some of them are too embarrassing for Shen Qiao to explain as he stuttered with a red face and then promptly left his husband alone . It wouldn't be until he calmed down that he realized that the older man didn't need an explanation but rather teased him and persuaded him to do so. He didn't leave for long as he returned with a grumpy pout, eyes not looking directly at the man, and with red ears sitting next to him. Yan Wushi in turn, closed the gap between them leaving no room nor space. Just as shameless and annoying as usual.
Shen Qiao recalls a time earlier last week, a pivot where just thinking alone almost provoked another chain of reactions. He could feel the tips of his ears and his cheeks burn like a soft burn that stung enough to not hurt but to bring awareness of its presence.
As the season had gotten colder, their robes became of thicker quality to keep themselves even with the added heat inside the room that held a fireplace inside. From what Shen Qiao had remembered, this was the first time he had been back in their shared bedroom. It had just happened, and he didn't bother trying to process how. Being back caused a strange feeling, one that the younger man couldn't easily identify nor direct.
Was it happiness… discomfort… or awkwardness, or all? Shen Qiao couldn't tell.
It wasn't like they were doing anything intimate, he was just a companion of sorts as Yan Wushi had to look for something important. The intricacies didn't matter. It did not matter, not at all.
As Yan Wushi looked after compartment after compartment, Shen Qiaon took his time to look around the room. Everything stayed the same, except for the few things that were newly organized since the last time he was here, it was like his presence didn't exist. It felt rigid and bare, no hints of him that made the room cozier and lived in.
He felt a twinge of ache in his heart. It made no sense but it did simultaneously.
A series of sounds from his husband’s direction broke his thoughts, centering his attention to the present. A click of his tongue and a relieved sigh revealing in his hand an unopened scroll.
That would've been the sight he'd seen first, if he wasn't so distracted on a few hairs that stuck up ungracefully on the side of his head. On instinct, he smoothed the strands down, an action he had done a millions times before he stopped. As quick as lightning, his wrist was grabbed tight before loosening.
Their eyes met, unfaltering neither backing down. A heated gaze was set on his husband’s face, and suddenly he felt the beginning of goosebumps rise. Yan Wushi’s thumb rubbed lightly upon his inner wrist, near the acupoint before letting his lips make contact with the thin skin. Yan Wushi held his gaze, and continued his way down, letting the sleeves fall back naturally to the elbow the longer he kept at it.
An inferno was ignited within the daoist. His face, to Yan Wushi, was a delectable flush that he somehow craved and wanted to devour. Shen Qiao’s lips fell apart into a silent gasp. It was suddenly too much.
Shen Qiao trembled and swiftly removed his arm, his other hand cradling it on that particular spot. Very predictably, he ran off leaving his husband unattended.
Usually, this wouldn't make him like that, but something so simple brought in a huge provocation. He just needed to run to find a place to breathe.
That memory left him with such shakiness, such a thrill.
Another time, when they were alone, not one disturbance in sight. One man who sought peace and silence and one who ran away to be alone. Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi found solace in the library, and for Shen Qiao it has been a while since he’s been there as well. The books he pulled out from before were back in their rightful place. He had forgotten to tidy it up himself, so he feels a bit bad for who had to do it in his stead.
He was there by himself seated across from a table with a heated lamp by his side. Today was exceptionally windy. He could hear the movement of the nearest trees hitting the walls. A loud high pitch caused by the wind resonated outside. If this happened at night, he would've woken up disoriented from sound.
Inside was peaceful, and warm with a cup of tea in his hands and the scent of books as company. Perhaps, later he could pull another one.
It was only unfortunate that the serenity didn't last any longer because another full body figure came into his view, with swift steps, shutting the door close, and settling down next to him a little too close for comfort. The only instances of recognition were purple robes and a pile of scrolls laid messily on the table he was using. From the corner of his eye, he could see Yan Wushi straighten his robes before picking up a scroll and opening it. A frown settled heavily on his face, his eyebrows furrowing as he laid his head on his fist.
Ah, Yan Wushi was in one of those moods again. He could recognize it anywhere. Not saying anything, he got up from his spot and went to find an ink grinding stone, water, and a brush. He knew that the older men disregarded them since he came inside frantically looking to be away from his subordinates.
Once he found it, he sat back down and began grinding for ink. He felt staring, so without looking he answered, “You tend to forgo ink and brush whenever you need to work alone away from everyone. It happens more often than you think”. His wrist moved rhythmically, rotating the stick for the ink to form after adding water. The repetitive movement was soothing, at the very least it'll keep him occupied.
He could hear sounds of paper rustling, and he set aside the brush and fresh ink within arm reach.
Shen Qiao felt another hand brush his own. The touch was feather light, just a graze on skin. Ticklish and yet not, and it lingered all the same.
He saw Yan Wushi’s hand on his. It stayed there longer than it was appropriate. He traced that same hand back to its original owner meeting his own partner's face who was unexpectedly very close to his own. Inches away from each other, and both men could see each other clearly.
He could still feel Yan Wushi’s thumb feeling along his skin.
Shen Qiao felt his own cheeks burn red as an indescribable tension formed in his abdomen and lungs. One look at the older man in front of him, and he suddenly became malleable. He wondered if his other half felt the same right now, and he may have a feeling he did. Just like him, his eyes are half lidded and it felt like Yan Wushi got closer too.
Their hands became entangled, and one thing led to another where lips met lips. A simple one before it turnt heavy. Shen Qiao had leaned back the more Yan Wushi pushed forward. Yan Wushi’s other hand held his waist, rubbing and pinching covered skin and fat.
It was hot, it was burning. Sensations running down their bodies with the heat that came with it. It was dizzying, it was intoxicating the way Shen Qiao became bewitched in the moment.
He could feel Yan Wushi’s body pressing against him, and he could feel a hand move towards his bottom and thighs, kneading those parts. He was so close to him, and yet to Shen Qiao it wasn't enough. At this point, he doesn't know if it would ever be enough. Under him, Shen Qiao would forever fall into the same spell over and over.
Yan Wushi was just as captivated. He never knew how a person's lips could still feel so soft against his, even when chapped. At first glance, he thought that the younger man looked too delicate and frail. But upon having him in his grasp, he could feel the strength running through all the muscles he could feel through the clothes. Their bodies were molded for each other, and he took pleasure in how pliant Shen Qiao was like a broken dam releasing uncontrolled desire. It was a flood that Yan Wushi would not mind dying in.
Yan Wushi nipped at Shen Qiao’s lip, a light pressure that gave enough of a sting. Shen Qiao let his mouth open, letting out a hitched breath, and tightened his grip on the other man’s shoulders, digging his nails into the fabric causing a burn. He could hear a groan coming from the other, deep and guttural.
If Yan Wushi wasn't deep in his desire, the pain would've been unpleasant.
He moved downwards, leaving sloppy kisses and the more he moved down, the more the kisses became sucking and nipping at whatever exposed skin he could reach, which wasn't a lot.
With new vigor, Yan Wushi loosened and pushed away the clothes revealing the juncture between the neck and shoulder and enough of the clavicle that stuck out so prettily with each breath. He sucked hard leaving a sizable red, growing bruise.
Shen Qiao hissed then moaned loudly when Yan Wushi snuck a hand across their chest playing with the raised nipple and breast in continuum rhythm.
Shen Qiao, drunk on nonexistent liquid courage, climbed on top of Yan Wushi’s lap carefully cradling the back of his head guiding it to his chest silently asking for more. At this point, showing was easier than asking verbally. It was a lot less shameful that way as he was already far too gone to think rationally. If Yan Wushi kept on with the teasing, he would’ve lost it.
Shen Qiao shivered intensely when the older man laid his tongue on the nipple, dragging a long lick out before engulfing it entirely. Yan Wushi sucked on it, giving the attention he needed. The daoist had forgotten how sensitive he was before, but now he felt even more so since it's been a little bit too long since they had been this intimate.
Everything felt like shocks and burns seeping inside throughout his body. His trousers strained to contain his lower half and he could feel it was the same with Yan Wushi.
Oh, he could feel it.
Shen Qiao separated from him, and for once there was complete silence besides the heavy breathing both the length shared between them. The two looked at each other, observed each other. Yan Wushi looked debauched with his dilated pupils, drool dripping down his chin, his hair slightly disheveled. A faint blush cascaded across his cheek bones that made look vulnerable, an expression that he hasn't seen since then.
Shen Qiao didn't know how much that expression was missed until now. When he really looked, there was a hint of affection so miraculously hidden away shown to him.
Shen Qiao looked indecent, with a portion of his chest exposed, his lips swollen, and tears peaking just shy from his eyes. Everything about him, appearance wise, was utterly unchaste to Yan Wushi. He had always seen him in control of his emotions, still as a lake, like an immortal that wouldn't dare touch upon mortal impulses. However, the man was still human and he found delight in the way Shen Qiao simply fell apart so easily in his hands. It was addicting, he wanted to be the only one to pull those sounds out from him from today onwards. He wanted to swallow him whole, to consume whatever little noises he could pull out of him. He wanted to stay close to him, and uncover the old memories and make new ones.
Yan Wushi never thought he could fall in love, but he did in the past, and now he has fallen for the second time. He would choose to fall again, every single time because so far he hasn’t felt anything like how he does with him. Every single interaction has intrigued him, his kindness and sternness so overwhelmingly attractive. He wanted more than he could take.
"Ah Qiao-" He began before he was interrupted by rapid knocking.
"Shen Daozhang!" Yu shengyan exclaimed behind the door. "A letter has been sent to you!"
Yan Wushi could feel the annoyance setting in.
Immediately upon hearing the first knock, Shen Qiao jumped off of Yan Wushis lap before shouting back to wait a moment much to the demonic leader's disappointment.
He saw Yan Wushi opening his mouth, and in a panic, Shen Qiao covered Yan Wushi’s mouth in an attempt to shut him up before a haughty remark could be heard from his proud lips.
In retaliation, Yan Wushi proceeded to lick the palm covering his mouth resulting in Shen Qiao to pull his hand away and smacking his forehead as a warning to make Yan Wushi stay put. He then went on to fix himself to look as presentable as possible.
To the demonic sovereign, it was insulting. He wasn't a dog, he was a man!
Though Yan Wushi, in the end, relented like a puppy waiting for his owner to say "go". He was still a man regardless, but as soon as Yu Shengyan came into view he glowered at him after Shen Qiao opened the door.
His disciple held the letter towards Shen Qiao trying not to flinch at the murderous scowl sent his way. Shen Qiao took the letter from his hands, proceeded to open it ignoring the way Yu Shengyan’s body language suddenly changed. He didn't even have to look at what Yan Wushi was doing all along.
Reading the contents quickly, he let out a sigh before thanking the man before him. Yu Shengyan left immediately after not wanting to further intrude in the space between his master and Shen Qiao, closing the door before Shen Qiao could. He was not ready to face his punishment, nor make it worse.
The daoist shook his head, turning back towards his spouse.
"Mt. Xuandu wants me back earlier than expected.," Shen Qiao explained. " I would have to leave soon." There was pause. “Perhaps, tomorrow morning.” Shen Qiao sat back down before rereading the letter again. It was just to give him something to do since the moment between them broke. It was, at least to him, painfully awkward. In the contents, it was further explained that there were some issues that required his official presence instead of his most trusted disciples; he left them in charge of the sect.
It was quiet and it stayed like that for the rest of the day before Shen Qiao left early using the need to pack as an excuse and went to bed earlier than usual.
He could not face him again afterwards.
Morning came quickly, and Shen Qiao awoke earlier than necessary. It was just the beginning of dawn. It was much too early, the sun barely touching the window, but no matter how hard or how many blankets he wrapped himself with, he couldn't fall back to sleep. The most he could do was keep his eyes closed and meditate, conserving his own energy for the long trip.
It didn't take long to get dressed, get something easy from the kitchen, before heading out to the entrance in front of the manor.
Standing out, he was glad he had the foresight of wearing heavier layers. It was cold enough that his breath became visible with every exhale. He wrapped himself more with the cloak he had on, lined with the finest of furs, looking back behind him seldomly. He waited too long, wanting to see the one person to see him off.
It was a tradition of theirs that began randomly for a couple of years. Even when their relationship had improved now, the disappointment still came when he forgot for a moment that this time he would not get a sweet goodbye from him.
It would probably be the last time , he thought. I can't have the same expectations as before. Everything is different now.
It wasn't like he wasn't happy or grateful for the development they had now. It was much faster than he expected it to be, and he was willing to wait as long as it took. And if nothing came of it, he would leave with the memories he held dear to his heart, mourning of a loss and salvaging what they had before in his mind. The only grievance he would have was those precious memories slowly fade away with time.
A sound of branch snapping alerted him of a presence nearby
He turned his head thinking it was him, only to find the little deer instead standing there. The little thing had its ears struck high, and it trotted towards him sliding its body against him. He was expecting a different face but he can't hold it against him. Absentmindedly, he petted its head for a moment before pulling his hand away, tightening his grip on his traveling bag.
He turnt back one more time, looking back and then began walking for the journey to his other home. His only companion was the cold wind caressing his hair.
He was alone, without someone to persuade him to stay.
Staring at the ceiling, Yan Wushi laid on his bed, an arm behind his head, he pinched his nose and squinted his eyes in an attempt to let sleep overtake him. He was relieved that the sun had not shown yet to burn through his eye sockets. It would not help him at the moment, and neither did the tossing and turning. All he could think about was the way Shen Qiao looked at him, eyes hazy and shiny, and face flushed heavily pink. His natural scent, although light, filled his senses as if it were incense burnt throughout the room.
Right on time, he groaned, still thinking about him and all the things that he became more fond of. Yesterday, was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and if it weren’t for his disciple, maybe something could have come out of it. He was absolutely in a piss poor mood seeing Yu shengyan’s face, and even more when the spark between them had died completely as it was replaced with casual small talk before the daoist left.
So, fuck Yu Shengyan and his bad timing. He’ll have to remind himself to send him on a grueling mission as punishment later. All he wanted was to have Shen Qiao in his arms, hold in bed and sleep in. Here, they could whisper to each other, and where he could steal kisses and pleasure him in all the ways he began to unwrap.
He turned over, eyes meeting the tiger plush that was resting on the nearest stand. For whatever reason, Yan Wushi kept it in his room, hiding the object away out of sight until he saw it again coincidently many days before. Logically, he should have thrown it out the first time he saw it, but the memories came by, and he left it alone for so long, until now. The more he kept it out from before, the more he considered between never giving it back or giving it back to its rightful owner. He doesn’t think that Shen Qiao knows about it, and he could understand that there were more important things going on than remembering where a simple stuffed animal was.
Yan Wushi sat up, then grabbed the object, deep in thought as he stared at its beady looking eyes. His thoughts never strayed from the other man, and to his own astonishment he didn’t mind not doing it. Ultimately, he always had him in his mind from the beginning. What started as disinterest became curiosity to keenness to fondness. Everything progressed so quickly, and he wondered if his past self grew those exact sentiments at that rate. Knowing himself, he did not think so, but this time it actually happened.
He had extreme fondness and affection for Shen Qiao, but was it so close to love? He did not have an answer to that, but he knew that he was starting to. He knew he liked what they had now or else he wouldn't do what he did. He wanted to try because there already was a foundation to do so, and there was potential to try the more he kept remembering.
Yan Wushi thought about the choices Shen Qiao made, and he found comfort that their relationship from the past and now had been a choice. He was on his way to remembering him fully too. If he wasn’t remembering anything at all, he would have been more resistant. All he had were the corner pieces, just enough to give a hint of what the final picture would be but enough to still leave him guessing.
He placed the plush down, and went to get off the bed before a strong wave of vertigo forced him back down. His vision swerved and grew murky, it felt like he was swaying despite his body not moving.
Then came a swift headache coming from the back of his skull traveling to where his lobes were. The pain was intense, and it throbbed slowly getting worse by the second. So intense, that not even pressing acupoints for temporary relief worked. He grinded his teeth, and gripped the edge of the mattress before attempting to get up again. This time, he really swayed, and stepping forward caused his body to stagger even more so.
He didn't bother to open his eyes, doing that would’ve been nauseating. Trying to walk already offset nausea in the first place.
Next thing he knew, he was on the floor, the only thing supporting him was the bed frame which he was still gripping tightly.
Sweat formed from the force he had gone through as he breathed heavily to cope with the pain.
The images were clear, filling more of the blanks that still left him baffled back then.
He sees Shen Qiao. His face no longer hidden by a blur, no longer opaque and unrecognizable.
He remembers.
He needs to go. Now.
It had been a week since Shen Qiao arrived at and settled on Mt. Xuandu. Upon arrival at his home, he was immediately ushered inside by one of his disciples.
His only break was dinner which he spent with his closest disciples whom he met years ago. He greeted them with a smile, hugs and headpats each of them basking in the warm affection he gives out freely. He asks them how their day has been, anything they did interesting, how their progress in martial arts was coming along, and anything under the sun. It was a welcomed distraction.
It wasn't so bad to be back early in his sect. The major benefit being that he could stay here long as required and keep this place running smoothly.
The only thing he would want is to have a husband to keep him company, give him comfort, feed him sweets. Alas, it was not meant to be, and he would have to adapt to what their relationship could be in the far future.
He was now back in his own bedroom, preparing for bed. He went behind the changing screen, the space lit by a candle. Shen Qiao took his time removing his layer of robes one by one leaving behind only white undergarments. He felt the cold air as he removed each layer, but he was still relatively warm. The bed was already warmed as he asked for heating stones to be brought in minutes before he entered. He set them aside as he took them off, folding the innermost layers into a neat pile on the stand where the candle laid.
He sighed, wrapping himself with his arms around before reaching towards the candle. Suddenly he hears the window opening, and in a panic he runs out ready to defend until he sees who it was climbing inside.
"Yan Wushi…!", Shen Qiao stuttered. "How- why- Why are you here? When did you get here?"
Yan Wushi grinned, wide and with all teeth, his crows feet pronounced greatly as he swung his legs over to sit on the window sill. "Yan-Lang, Ah-Qiao. Don't you know any better after so many years?"
Shen Qiao stilled, and with baited breath, he stepped forward.
Could it be?, he thought. He felt heavy and in his heart there was a renewed anticipation. He felt giddy, it was overwhelmingly exciting that as he raised his hand to cup his husband’s once more, it trembled terribly. His emotions once more were overflowing, and the more time passed it was getting harder to control himself.
Yan Wushi guided him closer, leading him between his legs. His hands on his waist providing the force was gentle, delicate; it almost like the actual touch wasn't there at all.
When Shen Qiao finally took a good look, he saw warmth and the love he craved. It was written all over the man's face, and the happiness was evident.
Yan wushi leaned his forehead into theirs, the tip of their noses nearly touching. A tender kiss was given, and then multiple were exchanged leisurely.
"I'm back."
One kiss, two.
"Thank you for taking care of me."
Three kisses, four.
"Let me take care of you from now onwards."
Five kisses, six.