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Liu Qingge is an idiot. He knows it, forcing himself to cultivate again after such a short period of time was a mistake. The moment he woke up with a throbbing head and that painful burn in his chest, Qingge knew he should have listened to his shidi’s advice. Shixiong will qi deviate if he continues to force himself like this , Mu Qingfang’s voice echoes in his head. Despite how tightly his eyes are closed, the light still makes his head throb. Turning his face into the dark softness near him, Liu Qingge- wait. He cracks his eyes open to look around.
At first, the blurring almost fools him into thinking he just got lucky and Mu Qingfang came to find him, but the sight of black fabric immediately in front of him cracks the facade of comfort away. Only one person wears black robes on this mountain. Despite only having slivers of spiritual energy left, Liu Qingge can immediately tell the flecks of qi he is absorbing are unnaturally soothing and pleasant, seemingly making his body crave them. Zhangmen shixiong. The robes under his cheek are soft and gentle, almost like they were made for someone to lay on them.
Gentle pulling on his hair draws his attention back to the immediate reality that his head is in zhangmen-shixiong’s lap . Then, the next realization he makes is that shixiong’s fingers are drawing soothingly through his hair. Holy fuck. Despite how large Yue Qingyuan’s hands are, they are surprisingly gentle and careful in his hair and… on his chest? Right, the sect leader must be transferring spiritual energy to him… Even if he can’t feel it. He must have really drained himself this time.
“Ah, Liu-shidi is awake. How do you feel?” Yue Qingyuan looks down only when Qingge strains to sit up (and fails).
“Bad.” the warlord chokes out as he turns his (hopefully) sharp glare up at his elder. It does nothing to phase the older man.
“Yes, I can imagine. Shidi was quite fierce when this shixiong found him, he’s lucky I was able to calm him down.” Again, Liu Qingge knows he’s an idiot. He’s troubled shixiong again, this time through his own sheer stubbornness. “If shidi is feeling well enough, he should be taken to Qian Cao, so Mu-shidi can help him.”
“Ye-” the warlord is cut off when shixiong stands, and he’s somehow lifted with him. “Shixiong!?” he sputters only when the older man starts walking.
“Shidi can’t walk, let this shixiong carry him.” Such a sentence leaving his shixiong’s mouth makes Liu Qingge think he’s still qi deviating. The feeling of shixiong’s arms around him makes the warlord simultaneously think he’s dying of his qi deviation, and has never felt more alive. Why is all of shixiong so… thick!? Yeah, he’s got a wide frame compared to the others, but this is ridiculous! Liu Qingge didn’t need to know about how powerful his shixiong’s thighs feel under his cheek, hidden away behind soft black cloth. Liu Qingge especially didn’t need to know how strong and secure his shixiong’s warm arms are! “Ah, is shidi feeling flush? This shixiong will hurry.”
“I’m fine .” Liu Qingge grinds out from clenched teeth. He resists the instinct to grab onto his shixiong in some way and hold on. His fingers itch to get a secure grip on the other man’s shoulder (which is surely also quite muscular). The walk to Qian Cao peak is simultaneously entirely too short and incredibly long. The only benefit Liu Qingge would admit to is that his qi has immensely calmed from his shixiong’s own calming qi, if not simply from the older man’s calming presence. Is it normal to feel so small compared to your shixiong? When they finally enter the infirmary, Qingge hides his flushed face against his shixiong’s chest, hoping deep down that the disciples will mistake him for another disciple and not the Bai Zhan Peak Lord .
“Mu-shidi?” The sect leader is polite enough to call into the healer’s office before letting them in. Shixiong is strong enough to carry me with one arm!? The healer looks up from his desk, hand still hovering with a brush and a monocle balanced infront of his right eye. Shock then confusion passes over that normally impassive face as the healer gets up and comes over to the only cot in the room, which is thankfully empty.
The cot is soft, but not as welcoming and warm as Yue Qingyuan’s arms. Of course it isn’t. Qingge can feel his qi spike again. Of course, Mu Qingfang notices, but thankfully he does not say anything. The healer’s grip on his wrist is sure and firm, but not unwelcome. How are both his shixiong and shidi so calming?
“Shidi qi deviated in the spiritual caves.” Yue Qingyuan’s voice is as calm as ever, but when is it not? They’d both be more concerned if shixiong didn’t sound the same as usual.
“.....This shidi told shixiong” Right. Qingge is in for a scolding. He slowly starts to zone out the sound of his shidi’s voice, opting to rove his eyes over his shixiong.
A good fight usually clears Liu Qingge’s head, but how is he supposed to clear his head about something that is upcoming? It seems his usual solution of killing things until he feels better does nothing to help for upcoming events. Feeling like garbage, the warlord forced himself to return to the sect for their monthly meeting, even if he did drag his feet enough to cut his arrival very close to the starting time. He arrives just as the meeting is about to begin, when Shen Qingqiu usually walks in. The scholar is standing outside the open hall doors with the sect leader and speaking with him in low tones. Their gazes drag over as Liu Qingge approaches, and both men stop . For his part, Shen Qingqiu just stares and ducks his face even further behind his fan. Yue Qingyuan, though, decides it’s a perfectly good moment to come over . Liu Qingge could die.
“This shixiong is glad Liu-shidi could make it…. Is everything alright?” Zhangmen-shixiong’s first response is concerned, because of course it is, this man is nothing if not perfectly good. His eyes glance over the war lord before his smile widens a bit. “Shidi really had to rush to get here…” What? Liu Qingge looks down at himself to examine his outfit and he’s…. A mess. Of course he is. His robes are splattered with blood and mud, ripped here and there and generally ruffled.
“....Yeah.” Liu Qingge forces out once he realizes he’s left the silence to hang too long. Something complicated passes the older man’s face, but it’s gone before Liu Qingge can really think about it.
“Hm. Here, shidi can borrow this shixiong’s robe.” What? Why is Zhangmen-shixiong taking off his over robe? Shixiong’s robe is heavy and overly warm on his shoulders. The warlord thoughtlessly slides his arms into the sleeves and pulls it closed around himself. “Come, the meeting is about to begin.”
The meeting is predictably boring. It’s easy enough to block out what’s being said, since Liu Qingge doesn’t care about any of it. He can feel eyes on him the entire time, but that only spurs him into ignoring it even more aggressively than he was before. It spurs him, even more, to leave the moment the meeting is over. The flight back to his peak is less brisk than he remembers. Instead, he lands outside his own pavilion feeling warm and comfortable, strangely. Only when Liu Qingge steps inside and feels hot does he realize what he’s done. I still have Shixiong's robe…
It doesn’t fit him very well, which makes sense, Yue Qingyuan is much wider and bulkier than Liu Qingge is. But… That just makes it more comfortable, he thinks. Right… This isn’t something he should get used to. It’s dangerous to let himself focus so much on shixiong, his sect leader . It stirs that same strange feeling in Liu Qingge’s chest that he had beaten into submission since shixiong saved him in the spiritual caves. This is bad. Really, really bad.
Liu Qingge has to clear his mind. If he doesn’t, he may snap and do something he really regrets. Like actually trying to talk to Yue Qingyuan. Right, yeah, this is over, he is not thinking about this anymore. He throws the robe onto the table in his entryway and tears at his own ruined robes as he heads towards the back room. For all his shortsighted brashness, Qingge is thankful the sect prepared a natural spring for him when he became peak lord. With it hidden away from prying eyes, he can think and not worry about anyone seeing the definitely not there flush on his face or the upset clench of his jaw.
The water is warm enough to distract him when he first steps in, washing away the filth from his battles and forcing his aching muscles to relax (though some small part of himself tells him that that's from his shixiong). The oils and soaps he uses are familiar, the scents mostly subtle and unrecognizable, but they seem to rankle something within him today. As if they don’t mesh with some scent already on him. It’s very faint, only barely there, but he can pick it up amongst the myriad of other familiar scents. It’s…bookish? It smells like books, or an office. Paper, inkstone and…. A tinge of smokey incense. Qingge uses none of those things, especially not regularly enough for it to stick to him.
Oh . He…. He must have picked it up from shixiong’s robes. He was only wearing them for…. Okay 3 schichen is a long time to wear someone else’s robes, maybe he can understand it. But, but it awakens that ache in his chest again, that strange feeling that happens when he thinks of his kind sect leader. No, when he thinks of Yue Qingyuan. The sect leader is kind, but the extent to which he extends it to others varies on how close they are. His past with Shen Qingqiu makes him so permissive and kind that one would think him a broken house husband. His experience with Mu Qingfang would make one think they were brothers or close friends. But… What is it with Liu Qingge?
Yue Qingyuan is… brotherly still, though that seems to just be his personality. Warm, kind. Those are just his personality though. That small part of Liu Qingge’s mind recoils at the thought that that’s all their relationship is. Just… existent. True, he doesn’t spend much time with the others, and he doesn’t put himself out there as much, but they should have something. He has discernable relationships with Mu Qingfang and Shin Qingqiu, he can describe those easily. The warlord lets himself sink further in the water, sighing. Yue Qingyuan…. Should he talk to zhangmen-shixiong? That seems like a bad idea but… That’s how people shape relationships, right?
What if shixiong doesn’t like what he says? Even Qingge is aware of how bad he is with words, what if he says something wrong? Shixiong isn’t the kind of man to look down on him per say, but disapproval from such a man stings far worse than anything Shen Qingqiu could offer. When can he talk to the sect leader though? The man is always busy and Liu Qingge doesn’t exactly have a reason to bother him…
Right. This is clearly something he’ll need to plan for. Liu Qingge can plan, he has time. Time is his friend. He thinks. This is fine. He resolves to think about this tomorrow , when he’s hopefully less frazzled. Rising from the hot water too quickly, a wave of dizziness washes over Liu Qingge as he climbs from the soothing comfort of the medicinal waters and into the sharp, cool air of the room. He wrings water from the end of his ponytail and wraps himself in an under robe before leaving to return to his room, but… Passing the entryway, he catches sight of the black robe laying haphazardly on the table there. This is… Sighing, the warlord walks over and takes the robe again, smoothing out the wrinkles. It’s surprisingly heavy compared to his usual robes, how did he wear it so long earlier?
Without thinking, he slips it on over his damp under robes, enveloping himself in the subtle smell of paper and ink again. There’s something soothing about the contrast of paper to the usual metallic scent in his robes… His heart may beat a little faster as he thinks about it, but he would never tell anybody. As the aching returns to his chest, Liu Qingge returns to his bedroom, pulling the robe tighter around himself as if to combat the - admittedly soothing - chill of the air.
He climbs into bed and, in a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, curls up in the corner, clutching the robe around him. Something about all of this makes the warlord feel…. Out of his depth. That’s what this feeling is. When has he, Liu Qingge, the war god of Bai Zhan peak, felt out of his depth? He’s supposed to be able to surpass any challenge, beat anything into submission, but this … This might be too much. His throat tightens just thinking about talking to the sect leader. That ache in his chest tightens into a choking feeling when he thinks of looking the other man in the eyes. Is this normal?... The comfort he gets from simply enjoying the scent of these robes dredges up unpleasant feelings he hasn’t felt in years.
Helplessness, why does thinking about a man make Liu Qingge feel so helpless? It hasn’t been since the peak lord was a disciple that he’s curled up in the corner of his bed and just let himself feel anything. He knows he hasn’t stopped to think about his emotions in quite a while, especially not since Shen Qingqiu got married… Maybe then, is this the feeling of letting go? Letting himself feel? He’s… not sure. The tears prickling in his eyes threaten to spill over as he sits there, staring out into the ambient darkness of his bedroom. Everything feels so much more foreign with his vision blurring with tears.
Right. This is getting worse. No more feeling, Liu Qingge resolves as he lays down in his bed. This is clearly something he needs to address later, if ever. Maybe, just maybe, the boring pain in his chest will go away and he will not awaken with a hole in his heart. He hopes. He really hopes. Tiredness softens the edges of panic and shoves it to the back of his mind in favor of conjuring images of how in the hell he will speak to Yue Qingyuan. At least, at the very least, his mind is kind enough to not make a fool of himself in his imagination. The pleasant warmness of Yue Qingyuan’s laugh at whatever he imagined himself saying is a warm balm on his panicked heart as he finally begins to nod off, curled into a tight ball in the middle of his bed.
Knocking at his door awakens him. His mind is still foggy enough that Liu Qingge almost ignores it completely in favor of sleeping in. If it’s a disciple they will just leave him alone. If it’s Mu Qingfang, he’ll just let himself in. There’s no reason for him to get up for anyone else. Even past the fog of sleep, he’s vaguely impressed with himself when the door opens and closes, the telltale brush of Mu-shidi’s robes clear against the silence. He was right, Mu-shidi would let himself in. The healer calls into the darkness then mutters something as he heads inside, clearly feeling his way through the darkness.
“Liu-shixiong, this shidi needs to examine you for wounds.” the healer says once he approaches the bedroom, only pausing a moment at the closed door before he lets himself in. The casualness of it would bother Qingge more if he hadn’t known the other man so long and so well. Though… Even knowing each other this long, some embarrassment tinges the tips of his ears pink knowing that his shidi is seeing him like this . He’s painfully aware of the weight of zhangmen-shixiong’s robes on his shoulders now, of the chill that nips at his feet where he didn’t tuck himself under his blankets. He must look so pitiful . “Shixiong, I can see that you’re awake.” Qingfang says as he approaches the bed.
Liu Qingge blinks awake to stare at the other man, taking a moment to examine his expression before abandoning it all together. He doesn’t want to see the pity in his friend’s eyes. Instead, he forces himself to sit up and stare at the edges of the robe against his calves as his shidi lights a few of the lamps around the room. What time is it, he wonders, for Mu Qingfang to come by? Usually the man is too busy to leave his own peak. Instinctively, the warlord offers his wrist when Qingfang’s familiar hand enters his frame of vision, not even flinching when the medic’s cool hands take his own. Pulse checked, a cursory glance over him, but the examination stops with Mu Qingfang’s eyes lingering on his face. This time, the fear of pity bolsters his confidence.
“Mu-shidi… I can’t breathe when I think about Zhangmen-shixiong.” Some small part of him hopes that Mu-shidi can help. The minute but reassuring tightening of his friend’s fingers around his wrist reassures him that maybe he doesn’t have to worry that much about being judged. He’s still holding my wrist .
“What happened yesterday, shixiong? You left so quickly.” the healer asks. Liu Qingge would suspect he is dodging the situation if he didn’t know how well the healer digs information out of seemingly meaningless questions.
“Needed a bath. Came back from a hunt too late.” Not a lie, but also not the exact reason he left. Mu Qingfang tilts his head slightly, the messy curled ends sticking out of his bun bobbing slightly.
“Shixiong bathed and then went to bed immediately yesterday then?” Tinged in disbelief, Mu Qingfang’s voice is deceptively calm and questioning, but Liu Qingge knows it’s outside of his norm to go to sleep so early. “And you just woke up?” He nods in return. It has to be late in the day then, if his shidi is so concerned. The other man seems to think for a moment before shaking his head. “Shixiong, perhaps you love Zhangmen-shixiong. But, you must be quite worried about it… You’re repeating the same things you did with Shen-shixiong. We remember how badly all your running and stubborn silence was for you emotionally back then.” Ah…. Is that what this is? A repeat of what he did before? He never tried to talk to Shen Qingqiu back then… The panic that arose from thinking he’d fuck something up was just as bad back then…
“.... I want to talk to Zhangmen-shixiong.” he admits after a moment. The healer sits on the bed near him, still holding his wrist. Awake now, Liu Qingge can feel the uncomfortable chill in his toes and the uncomfortable warmth of sleeping with an over robe on. It unsettles something in his soul.
“Then go speak to him. Shixiong can think of a reason, Zhangmen-shixiong has always been welcoming to visits.” Has he? Liu Qingge has only rarely gone to Qiong Ding peak, he barely knows how things work there. The hustle and bustle there has kept him away, both because he doesn’t want to disrupt the carefully maintained work flow and because he didn’t care to deal with it all.
“.... I have to return his robe.” Liu Qingge nods slightly, earning an equally small nod back from the other man.
“Would shixiong tell this shidi what happened last night to awaken this… difficulty when he thinks of Zhangmen-shixiong?” Mu Qingfang asks after another moment. The warlord has nothing but respect for his shidi’s ability to be strictly professional even with personal problems. It makes everything so much easier.
“.... I thought of talking to him… And, and realized I don’t know how. He… might dislike what I say. But, if… I don’t talk to him, I can’t-” he stops. How does he articulate this? Mu-shidi’s hand moves from his wrist to his hand, resting it in his lap to pat the back of it with his free hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t feel patronized by the act. “... I feel helpless. I don’t know what to do.” Has he ever admitted that before? He knows he hasn’t said it to anyone.
“This one thinks shidi should go speak to him today. Return his robe. Zhangmen-shixiong might offer him to stay for tea or a walk.” Another pat on his hand as Mu Qingfang thinks; “Don’t worry about what you say, shixiong. Yue Qingyuan is a kind man, he will entertain anything you want to speak about. He let me blather on for a schichen and a half about medicinal flowers once… It will be okay. Just please eat and drink something before you head over there so you do not pass out.”
“.... I think I’m going to cry.” Liu Qingge admits as he stares at their hands, Mu Qingfang’s hand stills for a moment before it squeezes his own.
“That’s fine. We all cry sometimes, shixiong.”
“I’m scared.”
“That’s also fine, shixiong. Worrying is natural. You’ll do fine.”
Liu Qingge knows for a fact that he won’t do fine. Just stepping onto Qiong Ding peak makes his chest tighten and his heart beat faster, but he won’t give up now. He’s never backed down from a challenge. He knows this was a mistake the moment his shixiong’s head disciple spots him in the hallway and approaches. The creepy kid. Right. Great. Just what he needed.
“Liu-shishu, it is a pleasure to see you. Is there anything this humble one can help you with?” the young man offers, a smile plastered on his face. It’s just like Zhangmen-shixiong’s …
“Need to talk to shixiong.” he spits back before he can accidently insult the disciple with his silence. Luckily, the disciple nods and turns, motioning him to follow with a wave of his hand. He leads the warlord down the main hall and to the large engraved door of the sect leader’s office.
“Shizun is just finishing his paperwork before lunch, he is supposed to take a break soon, so shishu came at the perfect time.” the disciple reassures as he reaches and knocks on the door. I’m not bothering him . That’s good at least. The young man pushes the massive doors open and corrals him into the office, closing them behind the both of them again. Is this… the first time he’s actually been inside his shixiong’s office? It’s massively unfamiliar to him. The walls are covered in shelves and decorations, the desk piled high with paperwork and various writing instruments, but the only familiar thing about the room itself is the scent of paperwork and ink, the incense smoke is much stronger than is present on Yue Qingyuan’s robes. The sect leader is bent over his desk, scanning over some document in his hands, brush lingering over the grinding bowl with fresh ink inside.
“Shizun, Liu-shishu is here to see you.” the head disciple says as he approaches the desk. Liu Qingge has to restrain himself not to balk when the young man takes the brush from his shizun’s own hands . What. the. Fuck. Yue Qingyuan glances up at the young man then looks over towards him, seeming genuinely surprised, though whether that is over having a visitor at all or it being Liu Qingge is indiscernible. He’ll ask Mu Qingfang about it later.
“Shidi, it is good to see you. What can I help you with?” Yue Qingyuan’s voice is pleasant, he notes, genuinely pleased.
“Came to return your robe.” he says in return, holding the folded over robe up.
“Oh! Thank you, I had completely forgotten. Min Ru, take that to my room, would you? This master will entertain his shidi for a while, so take a break.” the sect leader waves his disciple off and stands. Said disciple returns to Liu Qingge and takes the robe before walking to the door.
“This one will send for a double lunch to be set up in the garden.” The disciple - Min Ru, which Liu Qingge thinks he’s heard Mu Qingfang speak about before - says before he bows and leaves.
“Is shidi feeling better? He seemed quite… fatigued yesterday.” the older man stands from his desk and circles it to approach him. There’s something deeply exhausted in his expression that Liu Qingge hadn’t noticed before. Maybe he hadn’t paid attention. Maybe shixiong just hid it outside his own office. Either way, it makes Liu Qingge’s chest ache just as much as the proximity.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just tired.” Excuses, excuses. The sect leader looks concerned for a moment before he simply chuckles.
“Mn, I understand that feeling well. Come, tell shixiong your problems over lunch. Perhaps I can help.” the older man offers as he turns and heads towards one of the side doors.
Right. Like this won’t make them worse…
On autopilot, he dutifully falls into step behind the other man as they head outside. The garden is expectedly well cared for, bursting with vibrant plantlife and singing birds. It suits his shixiong, he thinks.
Just be honest with shixiong
, Mu Qingfang had suggested. How does he do that though?
“I… Don’t know what to talk about.” he admits as they step down onto the stone pathway.
“Oh? That’s quite alright, Liu-shidi, tell me about your hunt. You were quite battered, did it go well?” His hunt. Yeah, Liu Qingge could talk about that all day, but that’d bore the other man to death. Or worry him.
“Mn… Just a razorback. Baited it into the ridge and fought it there.” Liu Qingge recounts once he pries his jaw open again; “Fell into the ravine.” he admits with some small amount of embarrassment.
“And that shredded your robes so?”
“... We were fighting on the way down.” of course they were. It’s ridiculously mortifying to think about. “Wasn’t badly hurt though. Got it in an artery and killed it in its den.”
“That’s good at least.” the other man slows his steps at a small gazebo, the table already set up with a prepared tea set; “Though, perhaps shidi should not go on such hunts before a meeting? He seemed quite embarrassed when he left in a hurry.”
“I-” Shixiong! That wasn’t from the robes!! “It wasn’t bad.” he stammers. The sect leader smiles warmly at him, something unfamiliar and knowing in his eyes.
“Shidi could have kept my robe until he saw me next, it would have been no trouble to this shixiong.” Yue Qingyuan sits in one of the chairs and pours them both some tea. It smells like something softly spiced and aromatic, the kind of thing Mu Qingfang usually drinks. Forcing himself to sit, Liu Qingge takes his own tea cup and sniffs it before he takes a sip. A habit, really, a terribly improper one, but shixiong says nothing. I could have kept the robe for a while… but then it would have lost that scent…
“... Maybe next time.” he murmurs before he realizes what the fuck he just said. Next time what!? Next time he comes back battered from a hunt!? Hell no! Why did he even say that!? The warm timbre of Yue Qingyuan’s laugh soothes his worries slightly, drawing his eyes from glaring at his cup of tea to the bow of his shixiong’s lips, the familiar kindness of that smile. If shixiong notices the tinge of pink to the tips of his ears, he doesn’t say anything.
“Perhaps. Though perhaps shidi should be more careful, lest he worry Mu-shidi and I.” Logically, Liu Qingge knows his sect leader would worry for him, but that voice in the back of his mind preens at the intimacy of it. The words are innocent, but the tone is different. Softer, something less warm and more suggestive. Yue Qingyuan speaks through his tone and not his words . He’ll store that knowledge away for later. For once, the silence is comfortable. The chirping of nearby songbirds doesn’t bother Qingge as much as it normally would. The tea is nice, if a bit strong for his taste, but that’s negligible as he keeps a (not so) discrete eye on the other man.
“... Shixiong?” he asks after a moment.
“Mn?” Shixiong looks back from the garden, smiling.
“Thanks.” for what? Liu Qingge doesn’t know. Maybe Yue Qingyuan knows something he doesn’t, as his smile widens into something more open in return. Tea and the meal are surprisingly uneventful, normal even. The sect leader continually makes those open smiles that needle at Qingge’s self control, and things feel… okay? The warlord is still nervous, but surprisingly, he feels okay. Maybe that bolsters his confidence a bit. Maybe it’s the smiles. He feels jittery when they finally stand to go their separate ways, his hands feel uncharacteristically shaky, he feels as if he could shiver right out of his own skin, but… at least this didn’t go terribly. It went well in fact.
“Thank you for humoring me, shidi. I appreciate you staying for lunch.” the sect leader says as he stares out at the gardens. The reflection of the sky looks stunning in his eyes. Where else would I be?
“Yeah.” Qingge responds dumbly. Shixiong chuckles and turns to him, smiling warm and open still. This… This is too nice. Too much. He has to go back to his peak, leave Yue Qingyuan to finish his work while Liu Qingge sits in his room and processes what in the world has happened. Right. As he stares at the other man, he finds his reasoning falling away.
“Be safe, shidi. Do come by again, it was nice spending lunch with you.” the older man turns to face him fully and Liu Qingge finds he can’t control himself. Just an incense time with the man and I’m losing control already… What am I, a teenager? He takes his chances. Surging forward, he presses his lips against the other man’s cheek in what could barely be considered a kiss. Without looking back, Qingge hurries out of the gazebo and hops on Cheng Luan, taking off as quickly as he can before the other man can react.