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Jing Shao nuzzles into Mu Hanzhang’s thigh — for once, he has no ulterior motives, and he lets out a little sigh of contentment as his wife’s hand cards gently through his hair.
Truly, the day is like something out of a painting.
There’s a lovely breeze, the sun shining gently through the leaves of the tree they sit under, and with Jing Shao still on house arrest there’s no reason to not be outside. (Well, technically he should be inside copying as per Father’s orders, but upon coaxing Mu Hanzhang had agreed to a break.) It’s wonderful to lay with his head in his wife’s lap, uncaring of any grass stains that may get on his clothes, while Mu Hanzhang leans his back against a tree trunk and reads his book. The feeling of his fingers in Jing Shao’s hair is near hypnotic — he could probably fall asleep like this.
Naturally, he gets restless instead.
There’s nothing he can quite do at the moment, as they can’t leave, and all the effort of getting out here will be wasted if they go back inside (which… he doesn’t want to do). If they go back in, or to the baths, Jing Shao can always try to coax his Jun Qing into doing a little more, going a little farther… but he doesn’t want to. It’s nice, just simply existing with his wife like this. So why can’t Jing Shao just enjoy it?
He turns over in Mu Hanzhang’s lap – it probably looks like he’s trying to find a spot to get comfortable, but he is comfortable, he just wants to move. He thinks he’d like to take Mu Hanzhang on a horse ride, one of these days. (Well, whenever he gets out of house arrest.) Jing Shao thinks it will heal an ache in his heart that still lingers, soothe his wounded soul to ride with his wife in a leisurely way, no one chasing them, no one’s blood staining the saddle. Yes, he wants that very much.
But right now it’s not a possibility, like everything else, so he will have to content himself with this. It’s not a bad thing at all to have this, to be fair – Jing Shao is just greedy. Greedy for more of his wife’s touch, his love, his affections… if Mu Hanzhang only looked at him for the rest of their lives, wouldn’t that be nice? (Not really, because he likes his wife having friends and companions, but it’s fun to think about.)
Mu Hanzhang should be greedier, though. Jing Shao really would give him everything.
“What are you thinking about?” Mu Hanzhang asks quietly, his hand drifting down from Jing Shao’s hair to cup his cheek, his touch light and sweet. The way his fingers trace across his skin, ever so gentle, is lovely.
Jing Shao captures that hand and presses a kiss to his palm before replying. “I’m thinking of you,” he says, and Mu Hanzhang’s face flushes a beautiful shade of pink. “I want to spoil you. You should never want for anything ever again. Whatever you wish for, whatever you desire, I will give it to you.” He pauses a moment, brow furrowed, before he nods a little. “You should create a list and I will have everything on it within a week.”
Mu Hanzhang’s smile is filled with amused fondness, creating a tightness within his husband’s chest. “You can’t actually give-”
“Watch me,” Jing Shao swears with vehemence, no matter how ridiculous a promise like that is, sitting up abruptly and looking straight into his wife’s eyes. They’re warm, warm and clean like nothing else in the world, and when Mu Hanzhang doesn't look away, breath caught in his throat, Jing Shao finds himself leaning in…
“Your Highness!” calls out Duofu, and Jing Shao jerks in surprise. “Your Highness!” His voice is coming closer and Jing Shao curses under his breath, standing abruptly and pulling a bewildered Mu Hanzhang with him. He would rather have a restless afternoon with his wife than be pulled into whatever duties he’s being called for! No, he will not let them be caught!
“What are you doing?” Mu Hanzhang asks, barely managing to keep ahold of his book as he glances towards where Duofu’s voice is coming from.
“We are running,” says Jing Shao, and he takes off. Mu Hanzhang stumbles behind him, caught off-guard and far slower, so Jing Shao stops for a moment and scoops him up bridal-style before continuing to run. Alright, so this part isn’t bad. He presses a kiss to his wife’s forehead before he picks up speed.
“Your Highness!” Mu Hanzhang protests, wrapping his arms around Jing Shao’s neck for stability, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He looks like he’s not sure whether to be entertained or hit him for this. (He wouldn’t, though, not ever, not in a way that mattered. He loves his wife so much.) “Stop! What are you even-”
“I don’t respond to that name, not from you,” Jing Shao interrupts haughtily, startling a laugh from him.
Mu Hanzhang shakes his head, unable to help his smile, “Lil’ Spoon,” he says beseechingly, or as beseechingly as one can while being carried through the garden by his jogging husband. (After the initial burst of speed, there’s no need to go terribly fast – Duofu isn’t a speedy guy.) “Please, Duofu probably needs us…” There’s logic in Mu Hanzhang’s words, because Duofu wouldn’t come seek them out in this situation if he didn’t actually have something sincere for them, and yet…
“He can wait,” Jing Shao says, flashing a smile, and he speeds up just so Mu Hanzhang yelps and holds onto him even tighter.
The wind blows by his face and Mu Hanzhang clutches at him. They’re being chased, they’re running, they’re fleeing… and yet the sun shines down, smiles adorn both their faces, and joy bubbles in Jing Shao’s throat. His wife is warm against him, and the ground pounds beneath each step. Duofu’s voice grows fainter, falling away behind them, and there is nothing in their way.
He’ll never not be grateful for his second chance. Jing Shao laughs, and runs on.