Work Text:
Bored eyes wandered through the recruits, until they landed on her. No, that’s not right, Shang tells himself, Ping is a man; they’re all men here, no matter how soft or delicate one of them looks.. That’s why it’s so easy to get bored and let your thoughts roam and wander. That’s why it’s so easy to give into these horrific ideas of what he could do with one of his recruits. Shang shakes his head, gives them all extra training for the evening (he doesn’t mention it’s Ping’s fault, but they all seem to know), and retires to bed.
~*~
His eyes are more skilled now, more trained, and he knows how to avoid looking at Ping. He stares at everyone equally now, he lies to himself, even if he stares at Ping a little less. He has to, or he’ll stare at Ping too much. It’s disgusting, he reminds himself; Ping is one of his recruits, and they’re in war. He’s spent so long away from the touch of a woman, but that doesn’t mean he needs to explore any possibilities his mind comes up with. He is a professional, after all, and he’s expected to act as such.
~*~
All the music could play the right notes and still Shang refuses to admit these strange feelings he has for Ping. Ping is strong, stronger than she- no he, Shang has to remind himself- was when he first joined. It’s this strange mix of effeminate beauty that Ping holds with the strength of a raging fire that makes him so attractive. The others have started to talk, said things about Shang that he has to ignore, that he has to deny. Because he’s not; he’s not interested in a man, much less a recruit. Ping is just…
Ping is just confusing.