Chapter Text
Time was fleeting, ebbing and flowing like the wind that playfully wound down the mountain where the Fu Yao sect resided. On most days, there was a tranquil atmosphere amidst the residents. The scratching of burin into wood was abundant as charms were carved, the sound of bamboo swords could be heard swiping the air in practice, the calm chimes that suited meditation were carried on that wind. The days were calm, mostly, and the air was crisp and fresh, leaving a sense of peace to abstain from worldly desires.
Well, they mostly abstained from worldly desires—except for two members of the Fu Yao sect who were currently engaged in an attempt at dual cultivation.
The curiosity stemmed from a book Yan Zhengming had pulled out in the library with Copper Coin standing beside him. After a fit of embarrassment from his elder brother, Cheng Qian had shrugged, “It would better our cultivation.”
It was an excuse, and they both knew it, but one thing led to another. Yan Zhengming was in the process of positioning Cheng Qian’s leg over his shoulder while trying to double check their pose versus the picture in the book.
One leg was dangling off the side of the bed. Cheng Qian inhaled deeply, trying to focus on his breathing instead of the way this position stretched him. Yan Zhengming was looking at the book, confusion furrowing at his brow. He leaned forward to get a better look at the diagram and Cheng Qian bit back a moan.
Yan Zhengming shot him a glare, mainly because he was just barely holding himself together. “Focus,” he chided, and went back to reading the instructions.
Easy for you to say. But Cheng Qian closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his breathing as dashixiong kept shifting, kept attempting to match the pose in the book. He let out a soft breath and Yan Zhengming repeated, gently this time, “Focus.”
He started to slowly move his hips, timing each thrust with an exhale of his breath. Cheng Qian was trying to focus but he could only focus on the slow slide of Yan Zhengming’s cock inside him. He shivered and arched his back. He tried again to focus on just his breathing, to let his qi circulate.
As Yan Zhengming quickened his pace, it became harder to feign concentration. Thus, somewhere in the middle of sex, Cheng Qian decided to try muttering the Scripture of Serenity under his breath. He gripped at Yan Zhengming’s arm and choked on a moan, mumbling it again, louder than he intended.
Dashixiong stopped mid-thrust, looking down at him in disbelief. Cheng Qian looked up at him, stoic face without a hint of emotion. As sure fire ways to instantly kill a boner go, reciting your shifu’s mantra in the middle of sex was high on the list. Both of them heard Han Munchun’s scratchy voice croaking the scripture inside their heads.
Breaking the tension, Cheng Qian snorted and choked on a laugh. Yan Zhengming pulled out and flopped onto his back, letting out a loud sigh.
“Of all things…” Yan Zhengming let out a tsk sound, covering his face in embarrassment.
“Dashixiong, we can try again,” Cheng Qian’s voice was filled with an amusement, with a lightness that was extremely rare. Yan Zhengming’s heart skipped a beat from the warm tone.
“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, turning away. But Cheng Qian knew he was just being fussy and so he leaned over and kissed his shoulder. Just as fast as he had turned away, Yan Zhengming turned back toward Cheng Qian and pushed him down into the mattress. He was rewarded with a quiet laugh, and couldn’t help but to let out his own as he leaned down for a kiss.
It was the best way to spend a cool autumn night.