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He’s had Yanqing running around all day, so maybe Jing Yuan has an excuse for not noticing right away.
It is only, he thinks, that it is hard not to notice, now that he has.
“-so once we assign more guards to the generals’ temporary residences, as well as prepare to increase food imports to account for all guests, the Luofu will be ready for the Wardance. That concludes this one’s report, General.”
Yanqing’s eyes sparkle with the satisfaction of a job well done, the desire to be praised tightly leashed. It’s obvious to Jing Yuan, but only because he’s seen the expression too many times to count. With the Wardance on the horizon, they’ve been working half to death, yet Yanqing is still as competent as ever. However, despite his perfect performance, he’s only been listening to Yanqing’s report with half his brain.
Swaying every time he moves, the red ribbon tying back Yanqing’s hair is eye-catching for two reasons. The first is that it doesn’t match his style - it does happen to match the rest of the red accents he wears with his uniform, but it trails down his back. Yanqing prefers his hair ornaments short, with nothing that dangles, since he will forever be a swordsman at heart. The second is that the ribbon is familiar, because it’s his.
He absently gives Yanqing the go-ahead for the guards, the food, and whatever else is needed for the Wardance. Yanqing salutes, a hint of a grin on his face, and bows before leaving. As he turns around, the ribbon swishes. Maybe he accidentally grabbed it instead of his usual hair ribbon? Jing Yuan firmly attempts to set it out of his mind and work on his paperwork, except the sight of his ribbon, tied in a cute bow around Yanqing’s hair that he had only seen when he turned, feels like it’s burned permanently into his mind.
The ribbon does not leave. The ribbon, in fact, graces Yanqing’s hair for the next week, and then after that Jing Yuan gives up. He doesn’t mention it, Yanqing doesn’t mention it, the Cloud Knights who certainly notice it don’t mention it, and life continues on. Jing Yuan just has to deal with it being a distraction - with Yanqing being a distraction, more so than ever before - and power through it.
He manages it, somewhat successfully. Yanqing gives him a tour of the residence where General Feixiao will be staying, to show him both the security and the accommodations. The entire time his fingers itch to pull the end of the ribbon until it unravels and watch Yanqing’s pretty hair spill freely down his back the way he leaves it at home. It is entirely unprofessional, he chides himself, and they are at work. His self-control has never been so thin, he thinks as Yanqing looks over his shoulder to ask him if he’d also like to see the residence set up for General Huaiyan.
“I trust in Yanqing’s abilities,” he demurs. If he stays around Yanqing for much longer, he might do something stupid, like blurting out that he thinks Yanqing is beautiful.
Yanqing beams at him. “Then this one is happy! This one will continue to make the General proud! May this one escort the General back to the Seat of Divine Foresight?”
Of course, Yanqing spends the entire starskiff ride back telling him to eat lunch, and to not nap, and to get more paperwork done than yesterday. The red ribbon taunts him every time, up to and including the moment Yanqing hops off the starskiff - and while it’s still moving, like he wants Jing Yuan to keel over and die - and offers him his hand to help him down. He’s gallant and preening while he does it, proud that he can do this for him. Jing Yuan takes his hand somewhat helplessly, certain that, despite being the Divine Foresight, he had never foreseen this private issue of his consuming his life like this.
By the time he hit twenty-five, Yanqing still looked like a teenager, which he resented. Not yet of age by the Luofu’s standards, though certainly by any short life species’, he complained enough about it at home that Jing Yuan couldn’t help but let him have a sip of his worst-tasting wine just to laugh when his face scrunched up in disgust. “You aren’t missing anything,” he promised him. “Adulting is a chore, Yanqing.”
“Everything is a chore to you,” Yanqing had shot back. “I do everything for you anyway.”
“And don’t I appreciate it.” He’d ruffled Yanqing’s hair affectionately, ignoring his protests. “My lovely lieutenant.”
Even by thirty-five Yanqing’s appearance had barely changed. He lost slightly more baby fat, his physique became more pronounced, and he grew a little. Except by thirty-five Jing Yuan was abruptly realising that maybe the feelings he had for Yanqing were a little more than the guardian-ward relationship they’d had ever since he had found Yanqing. He couldn’t stop staring at Yanqing’s eyes, or watching his deft fingers, or listening to him laugh. By the time he had told Yanqing that for his fortieth birthday he would pay for one custom commission sword at the Artisanship Commission, Jing Yuan had figured out he was probably, maybe a little in love with Yanqing, and he had figured out that he was certainly, most definitely going to do nothing about it.
A week before the other generals are due to arrive, Yanqing’s flute that he always wears on his belt gets replaced by a dagger. Practically, it is better to have another blade on hand than a flute in case of emergencies; he’s only ever seen Yanqing use it to make friends with the birds that nest in his hair. Unfortunately, it is a dagger that Jing Yuan is personally familiar with, given that it is his own.
The dagger clashes terribly with his own outfit, because Jing Yuan had commissioned it probably a couple of centuries ago to match with Starfall Reverie. The yellow and green detailing on the sheathe looks, objectively, terrible against Yanqing’s favoured blues. Jing Yuan cannot help but be unobjective about it; he’s entirely endeared by Yanqing wearing it. It’s almost like Yanqing is trying to make some sort of statement, wearing what is obviously Jing Yuan’s ribbon and Jing Yuan’s dagger. He almost wants to ask if Yanqing wants one of his hanfu robes to wear around too.
When Yanqing sticks closer to his side while they welcome the other generals, showcasing his best behavior and wordlessly anticipating Jing Yuan’s every instruction before he even says it, he realises that Yanqing is making some sort of statement, even if the other generals don’t know what kind. Yet they obviously all know he is, because General Feixiao raises an eyebrow at him while General Huaiyan hides a laugh while Yanqing isn’t looking.
With the Wardance nearly upon them, he has no time to talk to Yanqing about how he’s walking around looking like Jing Yuan has claimed him. Instead he listens to Yanqing vent about Yunli until he almost falls asleep. Initially, he had thought they might get along - Yanqing has zero friends his age, and they both like swords. Now, he can maybe see the flaws in that half-thought out plan. Yanqing is terribly protective of his swords, even his ice ones since he spent months studying sword designs to craft them perfectly. Even if the sword-stealing incident hadn’t happened, Yunli is stubborn and hotheaded in the way that pushes all of Yanqing’s buttons. Jing Yuan watches Yanqing struggle to keep his composure instead of snapping back. He knows how hard Yanqing has worked to prepare for the Wardance and how much he wants to prove that, as the youngest lieutenant in history, he’s as capable as the rest of them. So despite how much Yanqing glares at him for it at home, he suggests that both he and Yunli train March 7th after the crew of the Astral Express arrives. It does, in the end, speedrun what probably would have been not-so-passive-aggressive fighting for the entire Wardance. An uneasy truce settles between Yanqing and Yunli.
General Huaiyan seems to agree with both his plan and his results. “Perhaps my granddaughter has finally met her match,” he muses.
Jing Yuan sighs. “Unfortunately, I like my lieutenant intact and focused. If anything happens, Reignbow Arbiter forbid, I’d like him ready.”
In the privacy of their own home, Jing Yuan apologises. “I understand,” Yanqing says gloomily, laying across the coffee table. It’s a terrible position for him to be in, because Jing Yuan needs to braid his hair for sleep. Yanqing won’t do it himself because he doesn’t see the need for it, and Jing Yuan is entirely selfish for liking his hair without tangles. “It’s better for me and Yunli to get along at least a little bit in the long run for the Luofu.”
“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead,” Jing Yuan replies, bemused. Yanqing turns his head to pout at him. “Really, Yanqing.” Running a hand through his hair, he adds on, softer, “You’re being incredibly mature about this.”
Yanqing scoffs. “You act like I’m not always mature.” But he immediately deflates. “What I do reflects on the General, and on the Luofu. After the Stellaron crisis, we need to do our best to uphold our reputation.”
Jing Yuan picks him up like a cat. Yanqing doesn’t fight him, hanging limply just like Mimi used to do when she was depressed when she was little. He settles Yanqing in his lap, settling his head on top of his. Frankly, he’s surprised that Yanqing isn’t pulling away like he normally does. This really must be bothering him. “Yanqing,” he says gently, “Our reputation isn’t that unsalvageable. You can act as you normally do.”
“What are the other generals going to think?” Yanqing twists around to glare up at him. “You don’t eat anything while you work, you sleep on the job, and from the outside it must look like you delegate everything to me!” He clutches at the lapels of his sleep robe. “If I don’t protect your reputation, who will?!”
Yanqing’s matching sleep robe is slipping off one shoulder. Jing Yuan indulges by not telling him. “You’re the best lieutenant I could ask for, Yanqing,” he tells him warmly. “Please, let me worry about those sort of things.”
“I’m still your lieutenant, it’s my job to worry about you,” he grumbles, but Yanqing still lets him hold him until they have to go their separate ways to bed.
They take the other generals on an aerial tour of the Xianzhou Luofu. They take the largest starskiff they have - it’s the only one that can carry three generals, their personnel, and security - and Jing Yuan highlights parts of the Luofu as they glide by. Playing tour guide is a nice change from his usual duties. Yanqing alternates between sticking close to his side and occasionally pacing the sides of the starskiff, watching for threats. The red ribbon flutters behind him as he walks, his non-dominant hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. Sword prodigy he may be, but Jing Yuan still remembers how he fumbled learning how to wield a blade in his other hand with fondness.
“Here is our Artisanship Commission,” he says, indicating the huge hustle and bustle beneath them. “Many fine products are produced here and make their way throughout the galaxy. Starskiff traffic is always plentiful here; unfortunately, you’re on your own if you fall off.”
General Huaiyan’s brow crinkles in amusement and Doctor Jiaoqiu hides a smile behind his fan. Jing Yuan smiles at his captive audience; Yanqing frowns at him, obviously telling him not to jinx it. He smiles down at him, more widely. If they were alone, Yanqing would definitely scowl at him in response and say something like you think you’re funny, don’t you.
A commotion breaks out somewhere above them; while not unusual in the Artisanship Commission, Jing Yuan looks out of habit. Yanqing is faster, having already been facing that way. He shoulders past him, leaving cold air in his wake as he leaps off the starskiff. Ice footholds freeze in midair and then melt as Yanqing blurs past. He catches two falling packages and then hops up onto the starskiff that dropped them. Jing Yuan watches him set them down and begin chewing out the people aboard. The boxes are long and slim, and he can tell by Yanqing’s stance and the way his hands are set on his hips that they’re obviously swords. He signals the helmsman to continue on with the tour.
“Is it really wise to leave your lieutenant behind, General?” Doctor Jiaoqiu asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Of course it is,” he says. “Now, over here, you will see…”
Yanqing, of course, catches up four minutes later, cheeks pink with exertion. It looks like dodging starskiffs is even more effective than his usual agility training. He slides into place beside him, and Jing Yuan smiles at him before brushing stray hairs behind his ear.
“Did you have fun?” He asks later, while they’re having dinner. Yanqing makes an irritated noise.
“They nearly dropped two priceless swords!” He complains. “Can you imagine?! They deserved much worse than what I gave them!”
“I’m sure they did.” Yanqing pouts at him. “Dessert?”
Yanqing narrows his eyes at him. “You know I promised March 7th that I would stick to her diet plan since I’m her shifu.”
“And you’re a very good shifu,” he offers. “But can I not spoil my Yanqing?”
He huffs, crossing his arms. “Fine. But just one bite.”
“One bite,” Jing Yuan promises.
With the Wardance comes stress. Jing Yuan stumbles into the kitchen, fumbling for his mental connection with Lightning Lord in case he was woken up by intruders, and finds Yanqing, sitting against the counter with his knees pulled to his chest. “Yanqing,” he says softly, letting Lightning Lord be. Of course it knew it was just Yanqing. He doesn’t realise his eyes are glowing until he sees that the faint yellow glow is illuminating Yanqing’s red-rimmed eyes.
“It’s still weird when your pupils disappear like that,” Yanqing tells him. His voice is hoarse. “Go back to bed, I’ll be fine.”
He makes a soft, involuntary sound as he sits down next to him. “Yanqing.” Gently, he takes his hand and tangles their fingers. “Was it the Stellaron crisis again?”
“Is it ever not the Stellaron crisis?” Yanqing sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m still sorry.” Jing Yuan waits for him to scoot closer before enveloping him in his arms. “I hate myself for having made you thought that I didn’t think you could win against Blade.” Sometimes he wonders if he fed Yanqing’s insecurities. He’s more sure of his place now, but for all that Jing Yuan endlessly reassures him, self-confidence is a thing that comes with time.
“Stop blaming yourself about it.” With another sigh, Yanqing stands, pulling him up as he does so. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”
Yanqing blinks. “What’s the occasion?”
He smiles. “Does there have to be an occasion?”
Jing Yuan gets a flat look in return. “You’ve taken me to my favourite restaurant and ordered all my favourite dishes. Are you trying to bribe me?”
He laughs. “Not at all. Shouldn’t we celebrate you finishing March 7th’s training?”
“Is that it?” Yanqing says, unimpressed.
“You make it sound like it’s no big deal.” Jing Yuan props his chin up in his hand, smiling. “But you’ve learned how to teach someone, and you’ve learned a different perspective on your swordplay. And you’ve got your first disciple.”
“Well, when you put it like that.” Yanqing scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. “You’re flattering me.”
“Is it flattery if it’s well-earned?” He teases. “Just relax and enjoy it, Yanqing.”
Yanqing does, eventually, relax and enjoy it. He vacuums up half the dishes on the table, and, when they walk through the night market, eats three servings of dessert. The red silk of the ribbon in his hair catches the light and is an utter distraction. Jing Yuan has started remembering tales from his childhood of fated people connected by a red string, and the resemblance is too strong for his mind to let go of.
Yanqing lets him spoil him at home too. Jing Yuan runs him a bath and carefully washes his hair, then dries it. It’s beautiful and soft, and even though they share the same shampoo it still feels like Yanqing smells like him. Yanqing, loose and lax from the warmth, allows him to dress him in a fluffy bathrobe afterwards. Before Jing Yuan goes to shower, he tugs on his sleeve. “We’ll sleep together?” He asks, golden eyes staring up at him.
His heart squeezes. “Of course,” he says. They share the same bed so rarely it amounts to almost never - only when Yanqing has a nightmare that’s worse than usual. Jing Yuan is too selfish to ever ask. Yanqing nods and lets him go.
He returns, still toweling his hair dry, to find Yanqing curled up on the half of his bed he’s always thought of Yanqing’s side ever since he was young, half-asleep. Jing Yuan quietly finishes washing up and slips in next to him. He startles when Yanqing’s hand wraps around his wrist.
“Jing Yuan,” he murmurs. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” he murmurs back.
Yanqing wiggles closer, their foreheads bent together. “I like that the other generals don’t know. I like that they assume I’m yours.” His eyes slip closed. “I like being yours, as long as you’ll have me.”
“I’ll always have you,” Jing Yuan whispers back. He can’t tell if Yanqing is asleep already or not.
Except that, the next day, just before they leave the house, Yanqing stretches up onto his toes and presses a little kiss to his jaw. “Will you really always have me?” He asks. His voice wavers.
“Always,” Jing Yuan promises. He cups his cheek and bends down to kiss him properly, slow and sweet like Yanqing deserves. “You’ve had my heart for a long while, Yanqing.”
“Jing Yuan,” Yanqing says, burying his face in his hands. When he looks up his face is filled with renewed determination. “I’ll wear your things with pride.”
He has to kiss him again for that. “They’re driving me insane,” he admits.
Yanqing scoffs. “It was driving me insane, how passive you were. If I didn’t take the first step, would you still be mooning after me?”
“You already know the answer,” he says dryly. Yanqing reaches up and pinches his cheek.
“Exactly. I always end up doing everything for you.”