Work Text:
1.
“Leave it,” Shen Jiu bares his teeth in warning, “don’t go poking your nose into this. That Qiu guy doesn’t actually have the guts to kill them.” He snarls at Yue Qi, drawing himself as tall as he can – unfortunately, still much shorter than Yue Qi.
Since presenting a few short weeks ago, Shen Jiu has taken to throwing his weight around as he sees fit, gleefully wielding the new blunt weapons that are his alpha pheromones. Yue Qi, an alpha himself, is usually happy to let Shen Jiu do as he pleases; smiling indulgently as Shen Jiu drowns him in the scent of rain, as Shen Jiu orders him around, head held high.
Now, though, Yue Qi stares at him with eyes full of regret as he turns to go, leaving behind a single sentence about “being the oldest”.
Newly developed instincts rear up and bristle in indignation.
No. Qi-ge is his. How dare Qi-ge walk away from him like this. How dare Qi-ge reject his claim like this.
“No!” Shen Jiu screeches.
Yue Qi turns around, just in time to see Shen Jiu launching himself at Yue Qi with a running leap, tackling him to the ground. By luck and sheer surprise, Yue Qi, much bigger and sturdier than Shen Jiu, goes down with a yell, fumbling to safely catch Shen Jiu in his arms, even as he goes down.
“Xiao Jiu, what?” Yue Qi stares up at Shen Jiu, now sitting on his chest and trying in vain to pin Yue Qi down with all of the meager strength in his stick-thin limbs.
Shen Jiu leans down, growling directly in Yue Qi’s face. His scent, raw and uncontrolled, emanates from him in wild waves. He can smell the subtle hint of warmth wafting from Yue Qi himself, as tightly controlled as ever. Some days, Shen Jiu misses the warmth of it, when Yue Qi would wrap him in layers and layers of comforting heat.
Passers-by leave a wide berth around them, covering their noses in disgust and projecting irritation and a subtle sense of anxiety.
“Does Qi-ge care about that idiot Shiwu more than about me?” Shen Jiu bites out, eyes stinging with furious tears. He scrunches up his face, encouraging the tears to flow in large pathetic drops. “Is Qi-ge leaving Xiao Jiu behind?” Tears splash onto Yue Qi’s face, carving clear trails through the grime caking Yue Qi’s face.
“No, of course not!” Yue Qi makes to sit up when Shen Jiu bares his teeth once more, furiously trying to intimidate him into submission. Unwilling to dislodge Shen jiu from his position on Yue Qi’s chest, Yue Qi settles back down.
In the distance, the commotion settles down and the wailing of the other children quiets. It’s too late for Yue Qi to interfere at this point, in any case.
Shen Jiu sits up, a triumphant smirk on his face. He wipes his face dry of any trace of tears, well-practiced in this art, and crosses his arms with a haughty little huff.
Unable to help himself, Yue Qi laughs at Shen Jiu’s proud little display. He pushes himself up slowly, wrapping solid arms around Shen Jiu to prevent him from falling. He drops him gently on his feet – the top of Shen Jiu’s head barely reached Yue Qi’s chin. He gently pats Shen Jiu’s head, ignoring the light growl his actions prompt.
“Okay, Xiao Jiu wins. We should still go see if the others are alright.” Yue Qi extends his hand for Shen Jiu to take. “We’ll go together.”
Shen Jiu stares at the hand with a look of utter contempt, but deigns to take it, chin held high.
“Fine. But only so everyone knows Qi-ge is mine.” Shen Jiu drags them both forward. “Come on, Qi-ge!”
---
2.
Shen Jiu and Yue Qi are digging holes side by side when an older disciple stops at Yue Qi’s side, inviting him to go up and greet her Shizun.
Shen Jiu immediately dumps his own shovel to the ground and latches onto the back of Yue Qi’s robes. The robes, stolen as they are, are of a much higher quality than anything either of them are used to wearing. Shen Jiu doubts the noble house they got them from are going to miss them, given the sheer number of robes that had been left hanging to dry.
For a second, he just rubs his hands against the fine fabric draped over Yue Qi’s back, marveling at the feel of it.
He startles when the disciple tries to get him to keep digging, violently snapping his teeth at her. When she tries to physically separate them, a low rumbling growl starts rising from deep within his chest. His presence grows and grows, an approaching storm, and he can see as, around them, other hopefuls start backing away.
The disciple merely crosses her arms, unimpressed at his little display of force.
“It’s alright, Shizhi,” a clear, airy voice rises above the din and chaos of hundreds of children digging holes at once, “bring them both up.”
With one last dismissive look at the two of them, the disciple turns around, clearly expecting them to follow.
Yue Qi barely catches Shen Jiu before he can pounce on the disciple’s unprotected back, gently ushering him forward instead. Shen Jiu walks forward with one last huff, angrily remembering why they went to the trouble of stealing these robes; they’re meant to be presenting themselves as respectable children and not runaway slaves.
With a frustrated huff, Shen Jiu stomps after the disciple, glaring at her back with as much venom as he can muster.
Soon, they reach the assembled Peak Lords, standing regally to the side and watching the proceedings. Sharp, disapproving eyes follow Shen Jiu as he marches forward, drawing himself as tall as he can, daring any of them to tell him he doesn’t belong here. He refuses to cower before these immortal masters; he refuses to cower before anyone.
A single set of sharp green eyes watches him approach with more intrigued amusement than disgruntlement.
The disciple leads them to two peak lords mumbling to each other in low voices behind the cover of an elegant silk fan. One, a woman dressed in fine, yet simple black robes, leans back from her counterpart, a man dressed in flowing layers of green silk.
Yue Qi kneels down to kowtow before the pair, nudging Shen Jiu in the leg to do the same. With one last glare, Shen Jiu follows suit.
(He doesn’t see the pleased little smile on the man’s face.)
“Greetings to the Immortal Masters.”
For an endless moment, there is no answer. Shen Jiu, face nearly plastered against the dirt, can feel their gazes against his back, judging and finding him wanting. He knows what they see: nothing more than a feral beast masquerading as a human being. He claws at the dirt in frustration, trying to hold still; he will not give them the satisfaction of being proven right.
“Greetings, young ones,” a severe voice says, “you may rise.”
Together, he and Yue Qi rise to standing, staring up at the towering figures before them.
The woman scrutinizes their faces, lingering on Shen Jiu’s and shooting a doubtful glance toward the man at her side. He continues smiling, unbothered. She turns back to them and speaks up once more.
“This one is the sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, Qiong Ding Peak Lord.”
“This one is the Qing Jing Peak Lord.” The man, the Qing Jing Peak Lord, says.
The Qiong Ding Peak Lord turns her attention toward Yue Qi, addressing him directly. Shen Jiu watches her turn away, bristling at the clear dismissal in her gaze.
Something nudges at his chin, startling him into a feral growl. He knocks the offensive item aside and finds himself face to face with the Qing Jing Peak Lord. The man simply chuckles, fanning himself with his fan – the offensive item in question.
“Now, now little one,” The condescending term of address has Shen Jiu’s hackles raising in anger, “Zhangmen-shijie will take good care of your friend there. Why don’t you and I talk? What is your name, little one?”
Shen Jiu tries to remind himself that this—this is what they came here for. To gain acknowledgement from these immortals up on high and enter the sect.
Growl still rumbling within his chest, he grits out: “This humble one is named Shen Jiu.”
Shen Anwei raises a questioning brow.
“Jiu? The character for “black jade”?” Shen Jiu does not say anything; let the man assume what he will. “How fitting.”
The man keeps smiling at Shen Jiu, expression suspiciously kind and earnest. There is an amused little twinkle in his eyes.
“Tell me, little Shen Jiu. How would you like to join Qing Jing Peak? This master would take you on as a personal disciple.” He snaps his fan closed, still smiling, still genial. “This master believes that you are just the person my peak needs.”
---
3.
Since joining separate peaks, Shen Jiu and Yue Qi have had little time to themselves. So used they were to be near each other at all times, it had taken nearly a year before Shen Jiu stopped sneaking into the Qiong Ding Peak disciple dorms to sleep – Yue Qi would have woken the entirety of Qing Jing Peak with his careless lumbering around.
Now, closing in on two years since joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, they meet every day after their studies instead. Usually in one of the less used common training grounds on the edges of the peaks, where they can while away the time in peace, away from other disciples.
Today, as usual, Shen Jiu hurries over to the training grounds, eager to see Qi-ge. He has exciting news to share and he can’t wait.
He bursts into the training grounds, already shouting the good news, already expecting Qi-ge’s heartfelt congratulations.
“Qi-ge! Shizun said I could get my sword from Wan Jian tomorrow!”
What greets him instead of the expected congratulations is the sight of an unknown omega pinning Yue Qi to the ground.
Red fills his vision and he rushes forward to tackle the omega off of Yue Qi. A warning rumble starts in his chest, scent thickening in threat and spreading around him instinctually.
“Get off my Qi-ge!” He growls, low and rough. Like gargling stones.
“Xiao Jiu, wait!” Shen Jiu barely hears Yue Qi’s call. Yue Qi has always been too gentleman-ly, giving everyone the chance to walk all over him in the name of politeness.
The omega – he smells of pine needles and tree sap, a strangely calming scent – turns to meet his attacker; arms raised in defense and a sharp look in his eyes. His scent rises in response to the attacking alpha’s scent, but there is no fear or apprehension. Only challenge.
Shen Jiu goes for the throat, aiming to finish off this intruder in a single strike. Anyone who dares attack his Qi-ge deserves nothing less than a sudden and merciless death.
Sharp nails close in on soft tissue before grasping at air. Slippery bastard. The omega ducks out of the way, weaving around Shen Jiu’s strike. He aims an open palm at Shen Jiu’s unprotected chest, launching him back across the training grounds. Shen Jiu’s recovers quickly in the air, flipping once to land on his feet. He shakes off the shock, narrowing his eyes at the omega. More of a threat than he had expected, he realizes. He takes a deep, steadying breath – just like Shizun taught him to do, when the rage becomes too much – and settles into a proper fighting stance. He will be ready for it this time.
“Wait!” Yue Qi stands between them, arms outstretched. “Xiao Jiu, Liu-shidi was just joining us for training. I mentioned Liu-shidi before, didn’t I? A disciple from Bai Zhan Peak.”
“You didn’t mention this Liu-shidi of yours was an omega.” Shen Jiu sneers, not relaxing his guard. On Yue Qi’s other side, he can see this Liu-shidi also still at the ready. “What, has Qi-ge decided to start courting? Is Qi-ge looking for a pretty little omega to warm his bed now that his Xiao Jiu isn’t visiting anymore?”
“You—!” Liu-shidi’s face flushes. He takes a menacing step forward.
Shen Jiu bares his teeth in response. He has a prior claim over Yue Qi, even if Yue Qi is seemingly unaware. He will not let some random omega take that from him.
“How dare—” Liu-shidi stammers.
“Of course not, Xiao Jiu!” Yue Qi interrupts before another fight can erupt. He takes cautious steps toward Shen Jiu. “I told Xiao Jiu, long ago, didn’t I? Qi-ge won’t ever leave you, not for an omega, not for anything. I promised.”
“Hm.” Shen Jiu leans around Yue Qi’s body and turns a mocking glare at Liu-shidi. “And does the omega know that? Or did you come here to seduce my Qi-ge?”
A frustrated growl is the only warning they get before Liu-shidi launches himself at Shen Jiu again.
It takes Yue Qi the better part of half a shichen to get them to separate once more.
Liu-shidi walks away with a few broken ribs and a large bruise on his cheek, right under that infuriatingly pretty little mole of his. Shen Jiu walks away with a black eye, a sprained ankle, and a sprained wrist – as well as a completely shattered training sword.
It’s the start of a strange friendship.
---
4.
Yue Qingyuan, Yue Qingyuan, Yue Qingyuan.
It feels like those are the only words Shen Qingqiu hears these days.
The cultivation world is astir at the legendary Xuan Su sword being pulled from Wan Jian Peak Everyone is talking about Yue Qingyuan, Qiong Ding Peak’s young head disciple and the cultivator who succeeded in binding Xuan Su to himself.
Shen Qingqiu, meanwhile, only remembers the long weeks during which Yue Qingyuan had had to remain in closed cultivation in order to tame that terrifying blade. Long weeks during which Shen Qingqiu had been unable to reach Yue Qingyuan. It had taken Qi-ge almost a month before he had managed to bind the sword to himself.
Now, here they are, everyone fawning over Qiong Ding Peak’s young master, trying to catch his attention, to spend time with him.
Meanwhile, it feels like Yue Qingyuan barely has any time for Shen Qingqiu these days. Between his duties as head disciple, his duties as successor to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect Leader, and all the recent demands for his attention, he is always busy with something.
Shen Qingqiu stomps his way to the training grounds, definitely not upset at being abandoned by Qi-ge. He grips his fan tightly in front of his face, definitely not hiding a frown. And he is absolutely, definitely not projecting his displeasure to everyone that dares approach him.
He passes a few younger Qing Jing disciples. They salute each other and part ways quickly; the younger disciples uninterested in provoking their alpha Da-shixiong.
Before they can get out of hearing range, one of them whispers to the other:
“Why is Da-shixiong in such a bad mood today? Even I could smell it.”
“Didn’t you hear, Shidi?” The other whispers back. “Yue-shixiong received an official courtship proposal this morning! Everyone knows Da-shixiong and Yue-shixiong are inseparable, it’s no wonder he’s in a bad mood! What if…”
The rest of their conversation fades into a faint buzzing as thoughts run rampant in Shen Qingqiu’s mind. The arm holding the fan goes limp, hanging at his side and exposing his shocked expression. He stands in the middle of the path, unmoving.
A courtship proposal? For Qi-ge?
He clenches his fists, a faint sound of cracking wood echoes in his ears.
He can’t. Qi-ge can’t.
Qi-ge is his, he can’t leave him behind.
Shen Qingqiu pivots on his heels, blindly running… somewhere. Qiong Ding Peak? Even he isn’t sure. He thinks he pushes past the two disciples, there is a loud thump somewhere behind him, but he isn’t quite sure.
Qi-ge… Qi-ge can’t be thinking of accepting this proposal, can he? He promised. He promised.
“—qiu! Shen Qingqiu!” A voice cuts through his blind panic.
A sudden strike toward his left side follows soon after and he reacts out of pure reflex, raising his arm to block it and spinning around the outstretched attacker’s arm to jab at their neck, teeth bared in a feral snarl. His hand is caught in a vice grip and the person calls his name again, giving his caught arm a rough shake.
Pine needles and tree sap.
Liu Qingge.
He shakes himself out of his – perfectly reasonable – alarm and yanks his arm away, taking his fan back out and snapping it open with perhaps more force than necessary. It hangs askew in his hand; several ribs are snapped in half. He fans himself lightly, gamely ignoring the issue, trying to gather his composure and to catch his breath.
“What do you want, brute?” He asks with a deep scowl, only partially hidden behind the broken fan. He can hear a low rumble of discontentment coming from his chest, but he can’t seem to stop it.
Liu Qingge shoots him a doubtful look, unfortunately well used to Shen Qingqiu’s moods at this point. Shen Qingqiu never seems to be able to run him off anymore.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Shen Qingqiu retorts, more forceful than intended. He fans himself harder, trying to dissipate however much he can of the irritation floating around him in a cloud. The fan remains uncooperative as one of the ribs gives up entirely and falls to the ground. Still steadfastly ignoring it, he runs a hand through his hair, surreptitiously smoothing it out. “I was hurrying. Because some of us take our responsibilities seriously, Shidi.”
He brushes off his robes uselessly, just for something to do with the nervous energy buzzing through him. Looking down at his fan, he notices a dark smudge on a small corner of the white silk and starts picking at it furiously; anything to avoid looking at Liu Qingge.
Feet appear in his field of view and his eyes snap up to see Liu Qingge in his space, looking down at him with a fierce scowl and flushed cheeks. The soft scent of the omega wraps around Shen Qingqiu in a soothing embrace. Liu Qingge slowly reaches over Shen Qingqiu’s head, movements carefully telegraphed and unmistakable.
For a moment, Shen Qingqiu thinks of stopping him, of taking a step back and making some space between them. But he feels… comfortable. Here, a half-step away from Liu Qingge, with the scent of pine needles and tree sap filling his senses. The scent of wilderness and freedom.
Liu Qingge grabs something from the crown of Shen Qingqiu’s head. A leaf. There was a leaf stuck to his head, Shen Qingqiu thinks hazily.
“Yue Qingyuan rejected the courtship proposal.” Liu Qingge says, out of nowhere, still clearing whatever else Shen Qingqiu managed to pick up in his earlier… hurry. “You don’t have to worry. Yue Qingyuan would never accept any of them.”
“…Who was worried, brute?” Shen Qingqiu grumbles. The rumble in his chest fades to a soft purring rattle. He’ll move in a bit. Let the brute do some work for once and help first. “Of course Yue Qingyuan rejected that idiotic proposal. Yue Qingyuan is mine.”
Liu Qingge hums in quiet assent, continuing his slow grooming.
Just a bit longer, Shen Qingqiu thinks.
---
5.
Yue Qingyuan, that reckless idiot, has found himself on Qian Cao Peak. Again. And Shen Qingqiu wasn’t at his side when he got hurt because that imbecile decided to keep him out of the fight for his own good.
Qian Cao disciples keep a wide berth around Shen Qingqiu as he stomps toward Yue Qingyuan’s rooms. He thinks he hears one of them call out to him, but he ignores it. If they have anything important to say, they can say it later.
The rooms in question are at the very center of Qian Cao Peak’s main ward, well-protected and well-guarded – though, still, no disciple stops him.
(He will be having words with whoever is in charge of security here, this is an absolute disgrace.)
Shen Qingqiu slams open the door to Yue Qingyuan’s rooms, not bothering to wait for permission. Mu Qingfang, in the room with a half-dressed Yue Qingyuan, jumps to his feet in alarm.
“Shixiong! You can’t just—” The beta starts protesting, his faint scent of herbs already spread throughout the room in a soothing cloud.
“It’s okay, Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan says. His body is covered in bandages and gauze, a bare few slivers of skin visible. He turns a bright, guileless smile in Shen Qingqiu’s direction. “Shen-shidi is always welcome.”
“Anywhere but on dangerous and life-threatening missions, is that it?” Shen Qingqiu stalks forward. With every step he takes, his own scent of rain overtakes the room, thundering around them in a violent deluge, washing away everything in its wake.
Focused as he is on Yue Qingyuan, he barely notices Mu Qingfang, out of the corner of his eyes, taking a half-step backward before gritting his teeth and holding firm. Yue Qingyuan, on the other hand, continues smiling at him, innocent and loving. His own scent still wrapped tight around himself, understated, almost invisible.
Not a hint of guilt.
“You—” Shen Qingqiu looms over Yue Qingyuan, still sitting on the bed, still as calm as ever. His chest itches with fury and want. “Nothing to say?”
Yue Qingyuan’s smile widens.
“Mu-shidi,” he says instead of answering, eyes still focused on the predator above him, “could you give us some privacy please?”
“Shixiong, I don’t think—”
“Leave.” Shen Qingqiu repeats, chest rumbling in a low rolling growl, barely holding onto his composure.
Perhaps Mu Qingfang finally realizes the position he is in, standing between two dangerous alphas. He takes a step back.
“Fine. This one will be back later to check on the bandages.” He walks backward to the door, still hanging wide open. A few idiotically brave disciples who had been peering in curiously scatter. Mu Qingfang does not take his eyes off either alpha, standing hesitantly in the doorway. “Just…” a deep sigh, “please don’t make a mess, Shixiong. Either of you.”
Shen Qingqiu ignores him, entire being still focused on Yue Qingyuan.
“Of course, Mu-shidi.” Yue Qingyuan answers for the both of them.
With one last look, Mu Qingfang backs out entirely out of the room and closes the door. Shen Qingqiu feels a brief wave of qi as privacy wards activate around them.
For one long tense moment, they stare at each other, motionless. Shen Qingqiu, growling. Yue Qingyuan, smiling.
And then—
In a sudden blur of motion, Shen Qingqiu has Yue Qingyuan pinned underneath him, snarling directly into that frustrating smiling face, noses almost touching.
(Despite the rage clouding his eyes, he subconsciously takes care to not put pressure on the wounds littering Yue Qingyuan’s chest.)
“How dare you keep me away from that fight?” Shen Qingqiu growls, voice low and gravelly.
“Xiao-Jiu…”
“Does Qi-ge think this one so weak as to be useless? Does the mighty Xuan Su Sword think himself so superior now?”
“No!” Yue Qingyuan’s smile drops and he jerks up slightly, but Shen Qingqiu keeps a tight grip on the man.
Shen Qingqiu remembers a time, long ago, when Yue Qingyuan merely indulged him. Here and now, he knows he can keep Yue Qingyuan trapped under him.
Yue Qingyuan continues, tone gentle.
“No, of course not, Qi-ge would never think so.”
Shen Qingqiu leans back slightly to stare Yue Qingyuan in the eyes, teeth still bared.
“Why did Qi-ge leave me behind then?!”
“I—Sorry Xiao-Jiu.” Yue Qingyuan murmurs, tentatively reaching up toward Shen Qingqiu and immediately pulling back when Shen Qingqiu snaps his teeth at him. “I… I was worried.” He finally admits, contrite.
“Worried?” Shen Qingqiu sneers down at the other alpha, scent thickening, a display of dominance. An oncoming storm bearing down upon Yue Qingyuan. “Qi-ge really thinks so little of me, then.”
He can see the sudden wariness in Yue Qingyuan’s eyes, instincts pushing him to fight back, to make a display of his own. Yet his scent remains bland, wrapped tight around himself. A self-effacing, diminishing attitude. With visible effort, Yue Qingyuan raises his head, baring his throat to Shen Qingqiu and carefully avoiding eye contact.
“Xiao-Jiu knows Qi-ge would never think less of him.” He says to the ceiling. “Xiao-Jiu is too precious to me and I was… so scared of losing him. I’m sorry, Xiao-Jiu.”
For a few moments, there is no movement between them. Yue Qingyuan, looking above him, throat bared, awaiting judgment. Shen Qingqiu, staring down at him, a god judging a sacrifice’s worthiness.
A sudden burst of movement and Shen Qingqiu clamps his teeth down at the junction of Yue Qingyuan’s neck and shoulder, biting hard. Right where he might leave a mating bite on an omega mate. Yue Qingyuan tenses at the sudden sensation, but Shen Qingqiu can feel as Yue Qingyuan forcefully goes limp in his hold, accepting the bite for what it is: forgiveness.
A Claim.
As suddenly as he bit down, Shen Qingqiu pulls back, blood trickling down his chin. He stares, mesmerized, at the mark he has lain upon the sect leader’s tender neck. It won’t stick, he knows. They are both alphas. This is not a valid mating bite. But here and now, his claim has been writ into Yue Qingyuan’s flesh.
He smiles a feral smile, teeth bloodied.
“Qi-ge is mine.” He proclaims. “Don’t you dare die ahead of me, far away where I can’t reach. Don’t you dare leave me behind.” Alone, he doesn’t say. “I’ll fucking kill you if you do it again!”
Yue Qingyuan looks at Shen Qingqiu with such a deep fondness, blood running down his neck. He reaches up once more to tuck a strand of hair behind Shen Qingqiu’s ear.
This time, Shen Jiu allows it. He can feel his face flushing. Unable to maintain eye contact, he buries his face under Yue Qingyuan’s chin, right against the soft vulnerable skin of his throat. There is a reluctant purr in his chest, soon echoed by Yue Qingyuan’s own.
Even if the mark fades, Qi-ge is his, now and forever.
---
6.
Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan are absolute disgraces, Liu Qingge thinks to himself, watching the absolutely embarrassing byplay between the two peak lords.
As usual, Yue Qingyuan must have done something to upset Shen Qingqiu, because the sect leader keeps throwing pathetic, seeking looks at the Qing Jing Peak Lord and ignoring the proceedings.
Of course, every other Peak Lord has noticed; there is nothing more interesting to pay attention to at the moment. Not a single one of them has been listening to a word Shang Qinghua has said in the past quarter-shichen. Even Shang Qinghua has started blathering more nonsense than usual, attention clearly fixated on the two… distracted Peak Lords.
Liu Qingge huffs under his breath. He is fully expecting another afternoon of training to be wasted listening to whatever grievances Shen Qingqiu has this time. Although, if Shen Qingqiu is incensed enough, it might turn into a satisfying afternoon of sparring. He’ll have to remember to watch for eye clawing however, if Shen Qingqiu is truly angry.
Lost in thought, he notices, a fraction of a second too late, when Yue Qingyuan places a gentle, almost caressing hand on Wei Qingwei’s shoulder, seated to his left, accompanied by a soft smile. On Yue Qingyuan’s right, Shen Qingqiu’s eyes snap to the offending hand and he turns a venomous glare in Wei Qingwei’s direction.
“Wait, Shixiong, I—I didn’t…!” Wei Qingwei stammers, frozen under the alpha’s attention. He turns pleading eyes in Yue Qingyuan’s direction. “Zhangmen-shixiong, please!”
Yue Qingyuan doesn’t seem to hear him, smile firmly fixed in place. Wei Qingwei notices immediately and tries to subtly pull himself away, but Yue Qingyuan’s gentle hand turns into a viciously grasping claw. Trapped, sharp panicked scents of iron waft from the omega and his struggles grow more and more visible.
Around the room, people shift around nervously.
Someone coughs.
“Is something wrong, Shen-shidi?” Yue Qingyuan asks, tone mild, still gripping Wei Qingwei’s shoulder tightly, still smiling gently.
“What could possibly be wrong Zhangmen-shixiong?” Shen Qingqiu counters through gritted teeth.
From his position a few seats down the table, Liu Qingge can almost hear the alpha’s familiar growl.
All attention has turned to the quarreling alphas and their unfortunate omega shixiong, trapped between them.
No one moves.
Liu Qingge sighs quietly under his breath, already resigned to going up himself to… do something, anything, when—
Still smiling, Yue Qingyuan inches closer to Wei Qingwei.
Shen Qingqiu’s patience snaps with an almost audible sound.
With a vicious snarl, Shen Qingqiu launches himself at Yue Qingyuan, knocking him out of his seat and onto the floor with a loud slamming noise. As they fall, Liu Qingge can almost swear that he sees a self-satisfied smirk on Yue Qingyuan’s face.
Wei Qingwei, the unfortunate victim of the alpha couple’s disagreement, sighs in relief and quickly back away from his seat, putting some distance between himself and the two alphas on the floor.
For a moment, there is no sound beyond the soft rustle of silken fabric and the assembled Peak Lords stare at each other, trying to decide if any of them should interfere.
With a start, Shang Qinghua shoots upright. Without a word, he drops his documents haphazardly onto the ground and scampers out of the meeting chambers.
They watch him go with some confusion, but Shang Qinghua has a tendency for acting strangely, so this is not quite out of character for him. As one, they turn back to stare at the head of the table where Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan have disappeared.
There is a low moan and the sound of skin slapping skin.
Liu Qingge feels himself flushing to the root. Before he realizes, he is also out the door, sword in hand, ready to get as far from the meeting chambers as he can. More Peak Lords follow in a hurry – though Qi Qingqi, madly cackling at her unfortunate martial siblings, has to be dragged out by Mu Qingfang.
Behind him, before he manages to escape out of earshot, he hears a low, growled:
“Mine”
Gods, Liu Qingge realizes, he’ll have to listen to Shen Qingqiu’s simpering affections instead of training, isn’t he?
---
7.
The sect that has invited them is small and relatively unknown. Unfortunately, it’s territory covers an extremely dense, spiritually rich forest. And, Cang Qiong being Cang Qiong and Yue Qingyuan being Yue Qingyuan, there is no chance of them taking that territory by force.
So, here they are, Sect Leader and Qing Jing Peak Lord, visiting with this small, irrelevant sect and on their best behavior, as Yue Qingyuan had insisted.
“It’s a matter of courtesy, Qingqiu. We just need to give them some face so they don’t feel like they’re bowing down to our larger sect.” He had explained, as if speaking to a junior disciple.
As if Shen Qingqiu himself isn’t already aware. He simply doesn’t see any reason to indulge these small sects.
As expected, everyone wants to talk to him or Yue Qingyuan, trying to curry favor, trying to bribe or flatter their way into Cang Qiong’s good graces.
Less than an incense stick into the gathering, people have learned to steer clear of Shen Qingqiu himself, swarming around Yue Qingyuan instead. His sharp criticisms and barbed insults have served him well, though they don’t seem to be taking the edge off today.
Free from these annoying buzzing insects constantly circling him, he settles for remaining on the outer edges of the courtyard; a vaguely menacing, threatening presence to remind the gathered cultivators just who they are dealing with.
Still, Shen Qingqiu feels irrationally irritated, prowling around this small sect’s courtyard like a caged beast, surrounded on all sides by these idiotic bootlickers. There’s a strange itching under his skin; he feels on edge, ready to burst. Every little whisper pulls at his attention and grates at his nerves. It’s sand under his clothes, thorns under his nails, crawling insects all over his body. He wants nothing more than to shut them all up, but he painstakingly holds himself back.
He promised Yue Qingyuan, after all.
And then—
Someone puts a hand on Yue Qingyuan’s elbow – little more than a gentle touch.
The last thought Shen Qingqiu has before he blacks out with an all-consuming rage is:
Mine.
---
+ 1
“MINE.”
Yue Qingyuan only has a fraction of a second to push the cultivator out of the way before Shen Qingqiu slams down into her original spot, cratering the ground, rumbling darkly and smelling of an oncoming storm.
Panic immediately erupts around them, but Yue Qingyuan has eyes only for Shen Qingqiu.
In the middle of the small crater he created, Shen Qingqiu stands from his crouched position, elegant layers of silk settling gently around his body, a sharp contrast to his tense figure. The vicious, blank-eyed, snarl on his face is as beautiful as it is terrifying to behold.
“Qingqiu…”
Those thunderous eyes turn to him and Yue Qingyuan finds himself breathless, lost to their dark, stormy depths. Yue Qingyuan takes a small step forward, hand reaching out to Shen Qingqiu.
He can see Shen Qingqiu scenting the air, trying to determine if any other rivals to his claim remain. Yue Qingyuan takes another step closer, arms open and welcoming. His own scent of bright sunshine wafts around him gently, invitingly. Calling Shen Qingqiu closer.
“Yue-Zhangmen!” Some ignorant beta yells, foolishly calling attention to himself. “Don’t approach him, he’s gone feral!” He runs forward, intent on playing the hero.
“Don’t—!”
Too late, Shen Qingqiu has already turned his attention to the newest threat to his claim.
The beta, realizing his mistake, stops in his tracks and stares at the alpha bearing down upon him, frozen in terror.
Yue Qingyuan launches himself at Shen Qingqiu before he can take another step, plastering himself against his tense back.
“Xiao-Jiu!” He buries his face in Shen Qingqiu’s dark hair, enveloping him in bright sunlight. “It’s okay, Xiao-Jiu, Qi-ge is right here. Qi-ge is yours. All yours. Always.” He murmurs soothing words directly into Shen Qingqiu’s ear, a steady stream of reassurances.
Shen Qingqiu doesn’t fight back, doesn’t struggle. This is where he belongs, after all. Within the safety of Yue Qingyuan’s arms.
Slowly, Shen Qingqiu relaxes in his hold, eventually falling entirely limp.
Unconscious.
With a soft sigh of relief, Yue Qingyuan gathers him in close and places a soft kiss against his forehead. He carries him to their chambers, leaving the frightened cultivators behind.
They can be dealt with in the morning.
---
Like vultures circling wounded prey, their hosts are now pushing for compensation for their – barely – injured members. Accusing Shen Qingqiu of being a feral, out-of-control alpha, overly-possessive, overly-controlling. How can they trust Cang Qiong when someone who can’t even control themselves at a peaceful gathering is one of their leading voices?
“Yue-Zhangmen, you can’t possibly tolerate such a violent alpha making such a one-sided public claim on you?” One voice greasily inserts itself into the conversation.
“Oh?” A one-sided claim, is it? Yue Qingyuan could almost laugh.
The scent of scorching sunlight fills the room in a violent blast, an almost tangible heat, shutting everyone up instantly.
At its center, Yue Qingyuan smiles genially at the quiet room. It’s rather unfortunate that he isn’t quite sure which of these insignificant masses spoke up so bravely, earlier.
Instead, he addresses the room as a whole.
“Let us be clear.” He stands, looming over the gathered cultivators.
The heat turns unbearable, nearly physical.
Burning.
“Shen Qingqiu. Is. Mine.”
---
+ 1
Bow to the Heavens and the Earth
Bow to the Ancestors
Bow to Each Other
Mine, forever.