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“I swear on the lives of everyone I hold dear, if that absolute idiot of a Sect Leader doesn’t shut his fucking mouth, I’m—“
“Not going to cause a scene,” Huaisang adeptly interrupts Jiang Cheng’s tirade. He nods to a group of passing disciples as he takes Jiang Cheng’s arm and steers him down a corridor. “You are going to sign that trade agreement Jin Zixuan and I have spent the last week drafting, and you are going to do it without murdering anyone.”
Jiang Cheng swallows down a whine because he is a responsible adult, but it’s a near thing. Instead, he stops and pulls Huaisang into an alcove. “This isn’t the way to our rooms.”
“It is not,” Huaisang agrees. “I love your sister, I like her husband, and I am very grateful for their hospitality during this conference, but the family wings are too far away.” He slides a hand up Jiang Cheng’s chest. “I have been on my very best behavior, but if I don’t kiss you soon, I might hit someone.”
“I thought we were being mature adults at this conference,” Jiang Cheng says with a laugh.
“And we’re doing very well, not hitting or murdering people,” Huaisang replies as he takes Jiang Cheng’s hand again, “but a man has a limit.” He looks over his shoulder, then ducks into an empty room.
Jiang Cheng gets a brief look at shelves of books and stacks of paper on several low tables before he’s pushed against the wall and Huaisang’s hungry lips are on his. He smiles against the insistent press of teeth and tongue.
Huaisang pulls back and pokes Jiang Cheng’s chest. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“Never,” Jiang Cheng croons. He lets his hands wander down, grabs Huaisang’s ass, and gives it a squeeze. “You’re amazing, and I—“ Jiang Cheng gasps as Huaisang presses against him. Jiang Cheng sends a silent apology to his sister and brother-in-law for the indiscretions they’re about to commit when the door is shoved aside with such force that the frame cracks. They leap apart, Huaisang putting himself between Jiang Cheng and the intruder, who turns and drops the book he carries.
“Master Lan?”
Lan Qiren’s face gives way to dismay when he sees them, but he quickly schools his expression to one of mild annoyance. Huaisang and Jiang Cheng drop into a low bow, but Lan Qiren sighs and waves a hand to stop them.
“Master Lan,” Jiang Cheng stutters, “we were, uh, we just—“
“Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Qiren interrupts, “please. Don’t.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sect Leader, Master Nie.”
Jiang Cheng and Huaisang exchange glances. “Yes?”
“Boys.” He smiles at them. “I am...very pleased that, despite the devastation wrought on your generation, you and your siblings and friends have found happiness. That you have forged bonds of love and friendship.” His smile falters and a familiar look, not unlike indigestion, replaces it. “But I will forever be ashamed that I could not instill in you — in any of you— the value of private quarters and locked doors.”