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"Mmmf."
"Haahh."
"Hnngh."
"Why are you moaning?" Feng Xin let out an exasperated sigh as he set the book he had been trying to read down on the table. Mu Qing paused his combing of Xie Lian's hair to direct a neutral look his way.
"It feels good!" Xie Lian protested with a pout.
"It's indecent."
"We're all guys here. What's the big deal?" He directed a look at Mu Qing, who just rolled his eyes and resumed his work, lining the comb with the very top of Xie Lian's scalp, right at the parting on his hairline, and dragged it down in a slow, even motion.
The swish of the comb was drowned out by His Highness' voice: "Oh, that's good." His eyes had closed, and his head tilted back involuntarily as well. If anyone had seen him right now, they would not be able to help but blush. "Yes. Yes."
"Okay now you're just doing it on purpose."
"Am not! You try it! Come on sit down." His Highness grabbed the comb from Mu Qing's hand and with the other one he dragged Feng Xin to sit in front of the mirror.
"Y-your Highness!" he protested, not used to being manhandled like this. With everything they did for him on a day-to-day, it was easy to forget how strong he was, and that anything he could take by force, he would.
No one besides himself had touched his hair years. It was a new sensation that immediately set his nerves on fire. The gentle touch of His Highness' hand undoing the hair clasp and teasing the tight bun he kept his hair in back into a loose drape tickling the back of his neck sent a shiver that disconnected his brain from his body momentarily. His vision faltered as his Highness' open hand buried itself within his mane and found the tender skin of his scalp.
A crisp moan brought his senses back to awareness.
It took him a second to realize the sound had come from his own throat.
In the vanity mirror, His Highness was still holding the comb in one hand, and looking at him with a sly smile.
Before he could guard himself against another attack, His Highness' fingers dragged down in-between locks of his hair. The sweet tingling sensation spread down the base of his skull and wove itself into his muscles, dancing with them, and then the comb followed, depriving his fluttering scalp of respite.
"You suddenly went quiet," Mu Qing teased. "Comb got your tongue?"
As if shooting a flaming arrow into an oil pool, Feng Xin bristled, his defenses going up, but he didn't have time to say anything before His Highness' slender fingers found a path into Mu Qing's hair right by his jawline, and up behind his ear.
Mu Qing jumped. He tried to school his expression, but both Feng Xin and Xie Lian had seen it, the momentary loss of his faculties, and the lingering blush on his cheeks.
For a moment, Feng Xin knew what His Highness must have felt when he got his desired response out of him: a strange but not unpleasant fluttering in his chest, similar to pride, to joy, a sick satisfaction in the tables being turned.
"Aww, what's the matter, Mu Qing?" Xie Lian said sweetly. "You didn't think we'd leave you out, did you?"
His Highness still had an outstretched hand towards him, beckoning him. He was gentle, like someone coaxing a stray cat out of hiding. Mu Qing knew he couldn't escape. He was powerless in the face of His Highness' inevitable wants, but still he did a show of leaning away from the touch, as far as he could go, until Xie Lian was all the way up in his personal space, dragging his nails tenderly up and down behind his ear.
"There we go. That's a good boy," he said.
Feng Xin's eyes were transfixed, first, on Mu Qing's blazing skin; although the day was dying down with an orange glow, it did not seem to be a trick of the light. Then, he saw Xie Lian, who did not seem to notice himself panting slightly, his lips parted. Somehow, the sight was even more indecent than it had been when it was his own hair getting brushed.
As if sensing his eyes, Xie Lian's lidded gaze turned to Feng Xin. He looked hungry.
"Come here," he said, his free hand reaching towards him. Feng Xin's head itched with the memory of its grasp, the way he became helplessly dependent on the whims of its beckon. If that hand swayed one way, Feng Xin's whole body would move with it.
His Highness laughed, breathless. "Maybe I should do this to you two when you misbehave," he said, fingers tightening inside his hair. "Look how pliant you are right now."
Feng Xin made a strangled sound of acknowledgement, wishing, perhaps for the first time, for punishment.