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Writing sloppily isn't really the end of the world to Shen Yuan, he doesn't feel the personal responsibility to be extremely neat and, in university, he had a permission to write his papers with his laptop because his hands shook too much or were too weak and his characters could be inteligible despite his many calligraphy lessons growing up rich.
To Shen Qingqiu, however, it is the most frustrating thing he has ever experienced. His right hand is cursed, in the literal sense, the poison in his body is strongest in his dominant hand and, whenever he goes too long without spiritual cleansing from Liu Qingge, it flares up first on the back of his right hand. Shen Qingqiu's inherited peerless calligraphy is a trait he is very proud of as the Lord of the Scholarly Peak, so he's doomed now with this stupid curse.
His irritation must've shown on his face because Luo Binghe was especially nice to him and he, Ning Yingying and Ming Fan didn't cause trouble for days, which actually frustrated him more because it's evidence that these 3 cause problems on purpose. Ridiculous! He's raising them so well and patiently, but they still decide to raise his blood pressure.
One day, while Shen Qingqiu was cursing over scrolls with shaky writing, a shadow of the grace they had before, Liu Qingge barged into the bamboo house without knocking, because that's what he always did. Shen Qingqiu almost dropped his brush.
"Liu-shidi, is this shixiong mistaken or is our appointment still a few days away?" He saw Ming Fan looking apologetic behind Liu Qingge and mentally called him a snitch.
"Ming-shizhi tattled on Shen-shixiong," he said, closing the door behind him just as Ming Fan squeaked. "Show me your hand."
Shen Qingqiu sighed and did as he was told, Liu Qingge slid to sit next to him, checked his meridians on his right hand and shared his spiritual energy to soothe the effects of the poison, it worked immediately. The pain dissipated from the point of contact, frustratingly. "You should've written me a letter," he said with an indecipherable tone.
He didn't say he couldn't write it in a way that was readable because that would've been too humiliating. "I will reprimand Ming Fan for wasting Liu-shidi's time later."
Liu Qingge shook his head. "Don't bother," he then looked at the mess on his shixiong's work table and looked back at him. "Do the tremors make it harder to write?"
Shen Qingqiu kept his composure only because he's been training his poker face for years, he's sure his only match in the art of looking neutral is the original goods. "Of course," he responded honestly because there was no space to lie. "But I have been managing well, you needn't worry."
"I wasn't worried," he said, worriedly.
This spiritual therapy session was quick, neither of them had much time and their scheduled appointment would happen soon, so Liu Qingge had no reason to linger despite Qingqiu's polite invitation to sit and taste the new tea blend Yingying had brain stormed with Binghe, which was for the best, the blend probably sucks. Much to Qingqiu's dismay, he felt infinitely better and could write with stability again.
Days later, their appointment came.
Liu Qingge walked in without knocking, Ming Fan hot on his trail like a groupie. "Ming Fan, stop harassing your shishu," Shen Qingqiu ordered. The boy bowed twice and his gaze kept going to his martial uncle before he finally left. "This master apologizes for his disciple, Ming Fan is… intense."
"It's fine." The junior Peak Lord sat next to him instead of on the daybed where they usually have their session. "Has Shen-shixiong ever thought about writing with his left hand?"
Shen Qingqiu thought the question was utterly insane, but he humored his shidi anyway. "I can't say I have," he straightened up. "Why does Liu-shidi ask?"
"Was thinking that it'll probably only get harder to write reliably with your right hand," he sniffed and tried to look at disinterested as possible. "Shen-shixiong could probably learn how to write with his left hand."
He nodded once, indulging this madness, and pretended to think about it. It's ridiculous, but… it had been difficult to perform his Peak Lord duties with his trembling hand, even correcting his disciples' forms had been hard without revealing weaknesses and God knows teenagers can smell fear. "Perhaps."
Liu Qingge looked at the table, pretending to care about the contents on the scrolls. "Shen-shixiong has good calligraphy, I'm sure he can try," it sounded motivational, as motivational as Liu Qingge was capable of being, but it made Qingqiu's heart flutter nonsensically anyway.
"Of course, as long as I work hard," he cleared his throat. So awkward!
"We can try now, I'll clear your spiritual veins and you'll practice, it's efficient," the War God sniffed.
Shen Qingqiu feels like he needs to think about his answer very carefully for some reason. "It is efficient, Liu-shidi is right," he stood up and fetched some scrolls that he wouldn't feel bad soiling and ruining with terrible, intelligible left-handed writing and sat back down, Liu Qingge had already fixed his posture next to the desk.
Shen Qingqiu picked up the brush with his left hand and felt unsurprisingly out of his depth, he wasn't sure where to start and how to mimic his own posture on his dominant hand, or even if he should mimic it at all. A few tentative characters, simple things like "1" and "2" proved to be extremely challenging, they were… identifiable as those characters, but only slightly.
Liu Qingge grabbed his right hand and started clearing his meridians through his wrist, it soothed Shen Qingqiu's heart enough that he didn't feel as frustrated now and his handwriting stabilized slightly. At some point Liu Qingge moved to be behind with his hands on his back, it was a better position because then he'd have a larger surface for contact, but it felt odd, somehow. Those large hands on his shoulder blades were warm and shaky with anticipation rather than anxiety or weakness.
When it was over and Shen Qingqiu had managed to shakily and unsteadily write numbers from 1 to 40, Liu Qingge didn't move away, his presence was all-consuming. "Shidi…"
"Let me help," the Bai Zhan Peak Lord pressed closer, chest to back, and grabbed his shixiong's left hand, wrapping it around like a second skin, helping him hold the brush steadily, the callouses on his palms and knuckles were ticklish. "Here," together, they wrote the character for 41.
Shen Qingqiu sucked in a breath, he told himself it was at the surprising discovery that his shidi can write left-handed and not because Liu Qingge's voice was right against his ear. "This shixiong… is Liu-shidi left-handed?" He uses his sword with his right hand, but it could also be because of etiquette.
"Ambidextrous," he responded, lips almost touching Shen Qingqiu's ear. "I learned how to write with both hands, but I'm better with my right because it's my sword hand," his voice was so low and so, so close. The strand of hair he keeps out of his ponytail tickles Qingqiu's neck.
Liu Qingge! You should be throwing that charm on a lovely maiden! Don't waste time with your old martial brother, go look for a wife! Any woman would swoon at a man who looks so beautiful and is good with both hands!! Liu-shidi!!!
"Liu-shidi is very talented," Shen Qingqiu said through the sudden stickiness in his mouth, his tongue seems to be in love with his soft palate."You will definitely… make a woman happy someday, if your children are anything like you."
Liu Qingge's hand suddenly squeezed his. "Perhaps Shen-shixiong is right," he said noncommittally, "I could make a partner very happy."
The weight of Liu Qingge's chest on Shen Qingqiu's back suddenly felt suffocating, but neither pulled away. By the time the sun had started hiding behind the mountain range, they were still writing characters: their own names, their disciple's names, martial siblings' and Peaks'.
"Shizun— AH!" Ming Fan walked into the room (without knocking! Liu Qingge is a bad influence on the children) and tried his best to jump out of his own skin. "This disciple begs for forgiveness!" He closed the door with a loud thud and suddenly the spell between them was broken.
What was Shen Qingqiu thinking?! Pressed up close to another (very heterosexual) man like this! Other people would get the wrong idea if they saw two grown men snuggling with each other on the floor regardless of their status as Peak Lords.
"Oh no, look at the time!" He said, barely concealing the nervousness in his voice. "It's been so long, hasn't it? This master would hate to impose and pull you away from your duties!"
"It's fine, shixiong," he didn't make a single movement to leave their position. Now that feels weird! "We can keep going."
"I believe we can't, it's so late, don't you need to eat dinner?" It was a dumb, stupid question, every Peak Lord practices inedia.
Liu Qingge stayed quiet for a long time, but something made him wake up and move away, standing up. Thank God! Right as Shen Qingqiu turned around to thank his junior martial sibling for being so helpful, the door burst open again.
"Shizun!" Cried his sweet, innocent white lotus Luo Binghe. The boy was greeted by the sight of his Shizun on his knees, body half turned towards a fellow Peak Lord who was standing up behind him. It was truly hell in a bottle, purgatory would've been kinder on the eyes. "Shizun…"
"Binghe! Don't you have hands to knock with?" Shen Qingqiu stood up quickly and fixed his robes, he didn't want to act as if he got caught doing something he shouldn't be doing, but… that's what it feels like. "Does this master need to discipline both you and Ming Fan to stop barging into your shizun's quarters so rudely?"
Luo Binghe looked as if he'd been physically hit. "No! No, shizun, this lowly disciple apologizes," he bowed back-breakingly low. "But…," he looked up again, eyes meeting Liu Qingge's.
"Luo-shizhi," Liu Qingge crossed his arms. "This master was just taking his leave. Until next time, Shen Qingqiu, and remember to stop by Bai Zhan Peak sometime soon."
"Of course, Liu-shidi," he said, looking at the other man with an indecipherable look. Perhaps it's impossible to decode because the teacher himself doesn't know what he's feeling. "This shixiong will make sure to make time for his shidi."
Liu Qingge walked past Luo Binghe, who still looked as if he might keel over from a light breeze. "Shizun… what was Liu-shishu doing here?"
"My… meridian cleansing," even though it was true, it felt like a lie on his tongue, weighed by an emotion he couldn't place. "Your shishu was helping me develop a new skill too."
That was the wrong thing to say, because his poor lamb looked as if he might cough 3 liters of blood.