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“Master! You started the Sigu Sect and the Baichuan Court single-handedly, I swear to make them thrive!”
“Who is your master?”
“Li Xiangyi, the Master of Swords.”
…
Li Xiangyi.
It shouldn't come as a surprise, not really. Ten years have passed, a decade of living in another man’s life yet the past still caught up to him in the form of this boy. A young hero determined to find his once-promised master, a childish dream carried on with the determination of a young man.
The fire is crinkling softly between them, the cicadas playing to their heart’s content and any other time Li Lianhua would enjoy the peace they bring. Not tonight. Neither his face, nor his demeanor let Fang Duobing know the disturbance his confession caused, lost as he is in the memories of his childhood, yet to the former Master of Sigu Sect the ground beneath him has tilted off its axis.
He chances a glance at his companion, takes in the poorly concealed, unshed tears in the younger’s eyes, the way consumed alcohol rises high in his cheeks in a light scarlet coloration. He feels for Fang Doubing, but having a disciple is not what he needs, not what he wants. Perhaps it's better he not encourage the kid's hopes now instead of having him chase all his life the phantom of a man who has long died. Now, or later when the younger one finds out who Li Lianhua really is.
If Li Lianhua has any say in it, he won’t.
“Your martial arts are alright, you haven’t embarrassed your uncle,“ he decides on instead, the little consolation he can give while keeping his secrets safe. As long as he focuses on the younger’s feelings, his story, he need not reveal anything of himself. Li Lianhua will not spoil the blessing Karma has bestowed upon him with the younger’s poor memory. It’s better this way, “There are some things you don’t need to remember too clearly.”
Once he meets Fang Duobing’s eyes over the fire again there’s something changed in them, a sense of longing and ache. If Li Lianhua wanted to, he could blame what comes next on the alcohol. He could claim his senses were dulled, and that he couldn’t see the signs in the younger man’s face.
The truth is - he simply doesn’t care enough to stop it. And maybe, just maybe, the smallest part of him wants it to happen.
“Here,” he offers his wine for a toast, pretends he doesn’t notice the way Fang Duobing’s body leans closer to his. As the younger’s lips delicately press against his own they are soft, full, and tasting of the wine they both have been drinking.
He senses fear in the touch, excitation. The sort of hesitation that comes only from inexperience, yet the younger doesn’t pull away, not right away. A second passes without either of them moving, stretching into another second, and another, until distance grows between them and Fang Doubing’s face comes into focus once more.
In the dim light of the fire Fang Duobing’s flushed cheeks, and hooded eyes look deceptively enticing. His eyes are searching Li Lianhua’s gaze, dropping to his lips before snapping up to meet his eyes once more. Doubt creeps into the brown of Fang Duobing’s eyes, and as the first stirrings of arousal pull at Li Lianhua’s abdomen he licks his lips, the only thought running through his head being To Hells with it .
“Sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
He doesn’t let Fang Duobing finish, sealing the spilling words against his lips. A sharp breath falls from the younger’s mouth, and Li Lianhua presses further. His hand finds the back of the boy’s head, pulls, feels more than sees Fang Duobing falling forward from his seat and shuffling closer, a sound like a surprise following soon after when Li Lianhua brushes his tongue against his sealed lips.
“Wait!” Fang Duobing ushers, breaking apart their closeness. His whole face is red now, his gaze unable to meet Li Lianhua’s, his hands clutched tight in the green grass below. He bites his lower lip, the sight only further sparking Li Lianhua’s desire, and as the younger shuffles closer the look in his eyes turns to worry, “I don’t want you to think this is who I am! I didn’t come here with the intention to get you drunk and, and-” the younger man stops himself, flushing harder at the thoughts he wouldn’t dare give voice to. He shakes his head slightly, anxiety giving way to determination as he finishes, “I don’t do that!”
Li Lianhua cannot help but chuckle. Far be it for him to care about the kind of reputation young master Fang Duobing has, the kind of acts he does or doesn’t commit. The stubborn pride instilled in him by his parents is of no matter to the man Li Lianhua is today. It concerns him not. Surprising, that Fang Duobing would care much what a fake miracle physician thinks of him.
“Little hero, you need not convince me of your innocence. I can tell by your inexperienced actions you know nothing of which you speak,” he starts, watching with faint amusement the indignation rising on Fang Duobing’s face with rosy heat. His lips open to argue his hurt pride as fish does once it’s taken out of the water, but is halted once Li Lianhua presses one finger over his mouth, "What interests me is whether you want to know of it."
Fang Duobing’s protest dies as soon as the words leave Li Lianhua’s mouth. He raises up on his knees, back straight and shoulders set as he presses himself in the space between Li Lianhua’s legs, "Yes, I want to know."
The earnest want in both word, and heat of Fang Duobing’s body momentarily stuns Li Lianhua. This might have been the moment of reflection for him - to think upon his next actions, yet the need to indulge in another’s warm body hastily overtakes him. Just like his indulgence in candy, he deems it inconsequential for the time being.
He nods his head, smiles softly, carding through Fang Duobing’s hair with his fingers, “Good, now keep up.”
Wine long forgotten, Li Lianhua’s free hand anchors at the younger’s waist, fingers grasping the expensive material of his clothes, thumb pressing into Fan Duobing’s hip just enough for the other to feel it. A slight tremble breaks through the younger’s frame at the touch, and Li Lianhua feels his cock jerk at how responsive the young master is. It’s amusing to a point. Pitiful, once he realizes how closely watched during his upbringing the boy must have been to not experience a fraction of bodily pleasure throughout all his years.
Closing the distance between them, Li Lianhua presses their lips together - soft and tentative as to not frighten the younger. It’s persistence he decodes within Fang Duobing’s touch, lack of skill but abundance of will to learn. To feel. Smiling softly into the kiss, Li Lianhua lets the hand at the back of the younger's head travel the outer line of Fang Duobing’s head, setting it in place when he can grasp the young master’s chin between his thumb and pointing finger.
A sigh breaks away from between Fang Duobing’s lips as Li Lianhua tilts his head to the side, looking for a better angle to deepen the kiss. Once his tongue brushes another set of lips Fang Duobing’s body stiffens yet this time he doesn’t fight the intrusion, parting his lips. Good, Li Lianhua thinks, feeling unsure fingers curling at the front of his robes, the young master learns fast.
It is with kitten-like licks that he tests the borders of Fang Duobing’s comfort, lapping at both his top and bottom lips, wringing out small, halted noises from the younger, before dipping his tongue further in. The fingers on Fang Duobing’s hip splay out at the small on his back, Li Lianhua pulling him closer as he explores the wine-tasting mouth. His tongue runs over Fang Duobing’s teeth, the roof of his mouth, the inside of his cheeks. Every new action is rewarded with a chocked sound of wonder-pleasure let out into the air between them, the puffs of exhaled air hot against the skin of Li Lianhua’s lips. Knowing his student has plenty to learn still, he presses onwards.
He knows not where lies the source of the tenderness with which Li Lianhua treats Fang Duobing, cannot name the emotion curling in his stomach at the pure moan of delight the young master lets out once he caresses the unsuspecting tongue with his own. He can only tell it spurs him on to repeat the action. Taunts him to coax and entrance Fang Duobing’s body until it reciprocates his touch, following step for step not unlike martial arts practices.
With each new kiss Fang Duobing’s actions grow in confidence if more sluggish, the wine they shared long replaced with the pure taste of the younger man on his tongue. Feeling fingers in his hair, Li Lianhua nips lightly at the full lips pressed against his, satisfaction curling in his groin at the breathless ah! spilling from the boy’s throat.
Withdrawing with a lick of his lips, Li Lianhua takes a moment to observe Fang Duobing’s face. His eyes are barely open, his cheeks so red they might contend with the ripest of cherries, yet the most outstanding of his features are his lips. Bitten, puffed. Used. It’s a good look on him, Li Lianhua decides. It makes him look less serious, makes him lose the edge of pride and stubbornness he carries like an armor around his body.
“Little hero,” Li Lianhua starts, watching as the younger man fights a losing battle of keeping his eyes open, “I believe it’s time for you to rest.”
Fang Duobing hums in agreement, body going lax in Li Lianhua’s hold tucking his chin against the older’s chest, “Next time, we’ll solve a case together.”
Before he knows it Li Lianhua hears soft snores coming from the boy clutching onto his robes. He blinks, sighs, looking up at the night sky. The fire they’ve built is slowly dying out, if he leaves now he might be on the other side of the mountain by next sunset. Detangling his clothes from Fang Duobing’s hold he props the young man against the tree and prepares for departure.
…
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