Work Text:
Mobei Jun closed his portal as he stepped inside Shang Qinghua's room. The messy disciple quarters even messier today. He looked around to look for Shang Qinghua, and found him laying on his desk.
Mobei Jun walked towards him and stood with his arms crossed across his chest, waiting for him to get up. But Shang Qinghua did not budge.
"Get up," Mobei Jun said, but Shang Qinghua didn't stir.
He lightly kicked him. Shang Qinghua fell on his side, and Mobei Jun could now see how flushed his face was. His breathing was heavy and his hand was still wrapped around an ink brush. Mobei Jun was about to kneel down to inspect, but hid in the shadows when he heard some disciples nearby.
One of them opened the door,"Shang shixion- Shixiong?!"
The disciple dropped the scrolls and rushed to Shang Qinghua. He patted his cheek, and called others. A few more disciples entered-one brought water, one went to fetch someone from Qian Cao and notify the Peak Lord, and another helped the disciple pick up Shang Qinghua and place him on the bed.
Mobei Jun silently watched from the shadows as the Qian Cao disciple took Shang Qinghua's pulse and brewed a concoction. One An Ding disciple sat behind Shang Qinghua, supporting his back on their own body and holding his shoulders. The Qian Cao disciple clinically opened Shang Qinghua's mouth and slowly poured the liquid in.
Mobei Jun closed his hands in a fist. An unknown feeling bubbling in his chest. Anger? What for? For Shang Qinghua falling sick? He's a human, a weak one on top of that, it's completely normal if he does fall sick. Jealousy? To be jealous of what? Vulnerability?
Or...sadness? Sadness to give back the favor he had once received, but not being the one who is doing it?
Yes, it might be sadness, but Mobei Jun was too familiar with what that felt like. It was hollowing, a pain he could sometimes feel stabbing his chest.
The Peak Lord entered the room, and asked the Qian Cao disciple what had happened.
"Fever, he was close to a Qi deviation."
The Peak Lord hummed,"How about his core?"
"The core is alright. Seems like there was an obstruction in his meridians, but it should be cleared by tomorrow."
The Peak Lord thanked the Qian Cao disciple and distributed Shang Qinghua's task to others, having one stay put by the door in case something happens and dismissing the rest.
It was only when everyone had left and the disciple closed the door behind him that Mobei Jun stepped out. He looked at the herbs which were used to brew the concoction, and grimaced when the strong smell hit his nose. He put back the brush in it's proper place and arranged the ink stone.
Mobei Jun then cleared some of the piles in the room without changing the order of things, and sat down beside Shang Qinghua.
He was fast asleep and snoring, drool pooling on the pillow. Mobei Jun used the corner of the blanket to wipe his mouth. Shang Qinghua wrinkled his nose. He moved his mouth lightly. Seeing that Shang Qinghua was close to waking up, Mobei Jun straightened his back.
Shang Qinghua groaned as he turned to his side, muscles sore as he clumsily tried to kick off the blanket. Shang Qinghua was about to tangle himself with the blanket, so Mobei Jun pulled it off.
Shang Qinghua looked relieved, but his body was still curled up.
Hesitantly, Mobei Jun brought his hand close to Shang Qinghua's forehead, but moved it back. Afraid he would break Shang Qinghua if he even touched him in the slightest.
He look exposed like this. Guard down, wearing nothing but a layer of clothing which was starting to get translucent as he sweat when the fever began to break. Shang Qinghua took a long breath and released it, hair falling out of his bun.
Mobei Jun rolled up the blanket on his lap and carefully removed the ribbon holding his hair. Some of the tension left Shang Qinghua's face and he smiled.
It was small, so small that you would miss it if you weren't paying attention.
Luckily for him, Mobei Jun had been paying attention to him from the day they met.
Something warmed inside Mobei Jun, to see someone genuinely smile around him, to feel comfortable enough to do so. But he knew that it would disappear when Shang Qinghua wakes up.
For now, Mobei Jun sat on the bed beside Shang Qinghua, looking out the window and watching the sun set. The voice inside his head gnawing at him, reminding him of his duties back in the North, but for just this once, Mobei Jun wished to ignore it and stay.
To stay and explore this emotion of watching over someone sick, a feeling of "being there" as his mother used to call it.
He hid in the shadows again when the disciple came in, bringing some tea. He gently woke up Shang Qinghua, handing him the cup and asking how he is.
"I feel exhausted,"he said after taking a sip.
The disciple asked him if he needed anything else, and took his leave. Shang Qinghua yawned and brushed his scalp with his fingers. Mobei Jun stepped out when he put down the cup.
Shang Qinghua shrieked, but Mobei Jun was quicker. He put a hand on his mouth, muffling any sound.
"Quiet", Mobei Jun said slowly
Shang Qinghua nodded.
"What happened?"
"I don't remember...I was just..just working on a...working on something and that's..sort of it."
"You will not work for a few days."
"I can still work! I'm fine!"
"You are weak, you can hardly get out of bed. Don't push it."
Something must've clicked, because Shang Qinghua's eagerness, and something else, dropped from his face. He chuckled,"Of course, My King. I shall resume my duties in a few days."
Mobei Jun nodded. An unsettling feeling in his stomach because of Shang Qinghua's smile.
It felt like he had indeed broken something without wanting to.
Mobei Jun took one last look at Shang Qinghua, who was sitting up on his bed, looking expectantly at Mobei Jun for something that- that even Mobei Jun didn't know he could give, or had for that matter.
It was when he unclasped his cloak and sat down in front of the mirror in his cold quarters that he realised what it was.
Comfort.
Shang Qinghua wanted, no, needed comfort.
Mobei Jun huffed and laughed bitterly.
Comfort, how foolish.
How foolish of course, to expect something so warm from a cold heart like his.
But there was nothing to do anymore, except carry on with his life, so Mobei Jun lied down on his bed and closed his eyes, falling asleep to the image and sounds of shang Qinghua sleeping peacefully in his memories.