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Jarringly cold.
Unfathomably heavy.
Deafeningly loud.
That was the waterfall thundering down onto Qiuyuan’s bare shoulders. The masses of water soaked into his long, dark hair and his pants, and their weight felt like an infinite series of blunt blows. The freezing temperature made his skin sting in a thousand places, but at the same time, it made him feel numb.
In the center of this duet of pain and noise, Qiuyuan was an anchor of calm. His eyes were closed, his hands resting on his thighs. His mind was open wide, the aches passing through it without disturbing his meditation. He didn’t hear the roar and didn’t falter under the pressure. He was only present in the serene bamboo grove of his imagination. It was his mirror of the outside world, the sight of which he was denied. He heard the soft sound of a flute, the wind caressing the green blades of the lush plants, and even the fall of every leaf. In the grove, he was alone. In the reality he couldn’t see, he was not.
That is how you found Qiuyuan. You watched him from a small distance, sitting shirtless on that rock outcrop under the waterfall in the forest clearing. It filled a small natural basin that fed a slow river that lazily meandered southward through the trees for miles and miles. You sat in the grass on the opposite side of the lake and mindlessly ripped out the blades that were still glistening with morning dew and stared at him.
Were it not for the rise and fall of his chest that you could just make out when you focused on it, he would be motionless like a statue. One that was very nice to look at with the water flowing down the curves of his muscular shoulders and arms, the edges of his collarbones, the arches of his strong pectorals and the lines of his chiseled abdominals. The morning sun hit him just right, making the droplets of water running over his fair skin and clinging to the tips of his hair glint like fragments of a precious crystal. And their trails traced the paths your fingers wished to follow. You saw his scars, too, and behind them the stories of how they’d come to be, told by Qiuyuan’s smooth voice in tender moments between you.
Qiuyuan was an early riser, always getting up at the crack of dawn. You never managed to wake up with him, and he always made sure to slip out of the warmth of your shared covers without disturbing you, no matter how often you begged him to stay so you could welcome the day next to him. And so, like every day, you’d been looking for him since waking up yourself. And like every day, you found him in this very spot, always in the same position. No matter how warm or cold it was, no matter the weather, this morning meditation was an unwavering part of his schedule. And watching him during it was part of yours.
It was only thanks to your Forte that you could do this. You had the ability to cancel out Frequencies, your own as well as others’, by layering another Frequency with an inverted phase over them. Your footfalls were always silent. Your voice could only be heard when you allowed it. Even your heart beat soundlessly. And that made it at best immensely difficult, at worst impossible for your sightless partner to perceive you. He said that in the bamboo grove of his Mindsight, you were a specter; Invisible, unhearable, intangible. That’s why he loved mapping you through touch, the shapes of your body, the sound of your voice and the scents of your skin and hair. To help him, you usually made sure to be noisy around him and suppress the natural habit of silencing your Frequency.
But not now. Not in the moments you wanted to watch Qiuyuan without letting him know.
The sight of him affected you deeply, intensely, more than it did usually. Your breaths came heavily, your skin felt flushed, and there was a sensation sitting in your lower abdomen, a pulse of alternating pressure, and a tug below your sternum. You wished you were closer to him, yearned to touch him, but you knew that his meditations were sacred and essential to keeping his version of vision sharp. So you’d wait and observe - longingly. And as soon as he was done and had found his peace, you would sneak back home and await him in bed like you’d never left. As you’d done every day for the past weeks.
Unlike all those other days, though, there now came a shift: Qiuyuan furrowed his eyebrows, destroying his appearance of a beacon of controlled introspection. You only had time to tilt your head and formulate a rough mental notion of ‘Why?’, then a sound alerted you, a dull thud against the firm forest floor, like a heavy step or stumble. You whipped around, ready to pounce on any approaching threat to you or Qiuyuan, but there was no one there. No movement between the trees, no suspiciously swinging branches in the greenery, no ominous shadows. You stared into the direction for a moment, your eyes narrowed, body tense. The noise didn’t repeat. The scenery didn’t change.
You allowed yourself to calm back down. It may very well have been an animal, or a falling branch. Your shoulders sank and you cast your gaze back to Qiuyuan’s favorite spot in the sun, your desire far from forgotten, but doing so made your eyes widen. He was gone. Qiuyuan was nowhere in sight.
You stumbled to your feet, your eyes darting from here to there, looking for any trace of your partner who’d been right in front of you mere seconds ago. Did he leave? So quick? Why didn’t you hear him? Why weren’t you sensing his Frequency, he couldn’t have gone that far?
You were about to drop the deafening veil of your Forte that hid you from him and call his name, but then everything happened too fast for you to keep up. There was a sudden pressure against your back, an arm around your waist, another loosely around your neck, cold skin pressing against your pulse there. A breath on the base of your skull and down your spine, water seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and finally…
“I see you.”
A voice in your ears. His voice.
Your heart ceased its efforts for a short second, and your thoughts were interrupted, your mind only a blank slate for the one key question.
“H-How?” Came over your lips, just a whisper.
“Hmm,” Qiuyuan hummed and his fingers traced the line of your jaw, a touch you instantly leaned into, “How do you think, little Ghost?”
You choked on the air seeking to fill your lungs, your eyes fell closed and a tremor ran through your body, one that Quiyuan felt as well, as close as he was. “I don’t know,” you said near silently, “You said I don’t appear in your bamboo grove.”
“And you don’t,” he admitted, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin behind your ear, “but your intentions do.”
“My-” You had to interrupt yourself when you felt the blood rise in your face. Your head felt light and floaty, as if it wanted to escape into the sky, and at the same time your body remained shackled to the earth, growing heavier and heavier against Qiuyuan, his chest and stomach and arms that were bare, and he graciously supported your weight.
“You hide them well enough when you actually try, I suppose,” he continued and you were almost overwhelmed by having to listen while his other hand dove under your shirt. The soft skin of your stomach was scalding against his still frigid and wet palm. You shuddered again, biting back a sigh. “But today it seemed too much even for you, Ghost.”
The nickname he’d given you precisely because you usually were so hard to grasp for him came with teasing irony. You were not a ghost at all, not now. Your lust that you’d allowed to run just a little too wild was a bright flare in his mind. A meteor, a blaze consuming the bamboo, overrunning the grove entirely, but instead of terror it infused him with hunger. You burned for him. And he burned back.
“You are so loud,” came as a husky whisper, and his hand on your stomach stroked lower, circling your navel.
“I’m… sorry,” you breathed, strained.
“You should be.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “But are you really? I don’t think so. After all, your actions are getting you precisely what you wanted. I wonder, how long have you been following me here, tricking me?”
You bit down on the inside of your cheek. This was not something you’d known he could do. Yes, Qiuyuan was astoundingly sensitive to Frequencies, even for a Resonator, and it sometimes almost creeped you out how he moved about in the world with his clouded eyes, yet carried himself with the confidence of someone who was acutely aware of his surroundings. And he was, of course. You couldn’t begin to imagine how the world truly “looked” to him, despite him describing the bamboo grove in flourishing detail.
But the fact that he saw through people even beyond their Frequencies, that was news to you. To read their intentions and desires, that was at least as valuable as gauging them from their faces or behavior, maybe even more so.
“Answer me, Ghost,” Qiuyuan demanded, and his fingers moved from your jaw to your throat, not as a threat, not even a warning. Just a reminder that he wouldn’t let this go, wouldn’t let you go, and that he’d go farther if he had to.
You swallowed hard, no doubt making him feel the motion of your larynx. “No,” you confessed, “I’ve been watching you since I figured out this is where you disappear to every morning.”
“Brazen,” Qiuyuan hummed, “Naughty. Impudent, even.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “It gets lonely in bed without you. I told you before.”
“So naturally you’d spy on me,” he teased, and not just in words. His right hand, the one caressing your stomach, was at the edge of your pants now, following the seams as if it was an afterthought, though the both of you knew it was a very intentional unravelling of your self-control. It worked awfully well. You felt like you were close to fainting, though you couldn’t bring yourself to be anything other than eager for him to go farther and farther. The knot of what you knew to be desperate want in your core grew tighter and tighter, coiling and twisting and turning, and it didn’t end there. Your hands were balled into tight fists, uselessly hanging at your sides, but you decided you didn’t want to be just a nonactor in the play he wrote the script of. You raised your shaking hands, placing one of the back of his over the front of your neck, letting the other wander up his arm, along the strings of muscle and the veins just under his skin.
The effect was minor, but rewarding. The rhythm of Qiuyuan’s breathing stumbled and he froze in his motions momentarily, then pushed out air through his nostrils.
“You’re not sorry at all,” he realized.
“So what if I am?” You asked, wishing your tone worked better to convey the cheeky question, but with your attention divided between his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against your backside and the subtle scent of him, you failed.
“I think that would be my call to get angry. Or disappointed. After all, you did break my trust, in a way,” he answered, and you felt a spark of annoyance because he sounded so certain in himself, all opposite to you.
“But?” You asked faintly.
“Hmm.” Another one of his staple long hums, then: “I could never be upset with you, Ghost, you know that.”
A wave of emotions washed through you: Warm affection, lust burning hot. You didn’t even try to hide it.
Qiuyuan let out air that had the blurry shape of your name in a shaky breath that you heard close to your ear. “How could I say no to that?”
His fingers around your neck tightened ever so slightly, then there was a sudden, light tug, upsetting your balance. At the same time, Qiuyuan’s sturdy form that you’d been leaning against was gone, and you-
Before you could even realize you were falling, already you were caught. A quiet creak when the dark stalks of bamboo, summoned out of thin air to catch your weight, bent. Softly they eased you lower, and there, suddenly in front of you, was Qiuyuan. Appearing just at the edge of your vision were afterimages of him, painted into the air in black ink. Then he was atop you, his hands under your back to support you the rest of the way until you sank into the grass. Qiuyuan found his place above you, his elbows to either side of your head taking most of his weight, the rest pressing against your lower body where your hips met.
Softly his lips came to greet yours, your hands automatically coming to rest around his nape, in the dark strands of his unbound hair still drenched. Your heat warmed his skin when he pressed his strong chest to yours, making you feel small but safe under his larger body. Such was your lust, finding the two of you as sure as the light of the sunrise. It was not only instinctual, it was more. It was a law of nature that he kissed you and you kissed him and your nostrils flared to take in the air you shared.
Qiuyuan shifted without breaking the kiss, sending one of his hands below your shirt that had already ridden up. You parted your lips, an offer he accepted when he made his tongue meet yours. His fingers traced along your Tacet Mark. It sat vertically under your breastbone, between your sternum and bellybutton, gently undulating now that your Forte lay dormant. It was antithetical to all other Tacet Marks that you knew: When they would move more erratically as their owner’s Forte worked, yours would dim. At the height of your abilities, when you deafened yourself and the world around you, it was but a thin, unmoving line. You were silence. Though now, you had no reason to be still.
You let out a quiet sigh. He adored touching this part of you ever since the first night you’d shared. It felt like a lifetime ago, your first encounter in the wilderness of Huanglong in a rainstorm that had forced you to take shelter together. From the first moment, you’d been intrigued by the wandering swordsman - and he by you. You were a constant reminder of his blindness. Not because you made him miss his sight, after all, how should he miss something he’d never known? No, you were, in the silence of your Frequency, a monument to be explored through his other senses, and he loved you for it.
That rainy night in a long forlorn and abandoned temple by the road had been mostly silent, as had been the solemn agreement to journey together going forward until you reached Mingting where you both had been headed for different reasons. One night had become many. Nothing had ever happened. Silence by a campfire. Exchanges of strategy and battle tactics. Whispered stories of bygone days. Nothing more.
You’d spent three weeks on the road, longer than you should’ve needed, neither one of you eager to see the end of your journey approaching, but of course it had nonetheless and you’d parted. Winter had come and gone, you spending the cold season in the safety of the city before getting ready to depart in the spring.
When you’d left Mingting one cold morning, you’d found him again, resting in the frosted grass by the roadside. He’d looked up. By then, he’d learned to listen for your silence. And he’d greeted you with a kiss that you’d returned without hesitation, without a word spoken. Because your lust was a law of nature. And that night had been the one where he’d started discovering your shapes. He’d asked you where it was - your Tacet Mark - and you’d grasped his hand, guiding his index finger along the flickering trace running down the center line of your torso.
Just as he did now. His hand came up again, tracing the curve just under your breast, the hairs on your skin stiffening when you shuddered.
“Qiuyuan,” you whispered against his lips.
He kissed the corner of your mouth, then the round of your cheek. You heard him hum. He knew. Sometimes he would scold you for your impatience. Not now. Now his knee dragged across the ground, pushing your thighs apart until it was against your crotch. You felt the wetness in your underwear pressed back against the lips of your pussy and ground against him, your swollen clit sparking in excitement. Your fingers twitched against his back, grasping at firm muscle here, the bulge of a scar there. The heat in your core bubbled and you let out a wanton sigh.
“Please,” you whispered.
Qiuyuan’s hand found the edge of your pants and the closure at the front gave way easily under his practiced fingers.
“Help.” It was a small, but weighty request that you followed without hesitation, lifting your hips and pushing your legs together when he got out of the way so that he could pull down your pants first, leaving you only in your plain underwear. Of course he wasted no time in peeling it off of you, then sat on his haunches. There was nothing for him to gain by seeing you unwrapped slowly. He was eager to feel, and yet he remembered to take time in undoing the belt around his waist. He knew that you, indeed, liked to see the sureness in his diligent movements when he worked against the buckle, then the button and zipper of his pants.
You squeezed your thighs together once more, skin rubbing over skin when you tried to find some sense of pleasure from it. But the throb in your sex wasn’t quenched by such futile measures.
“You’re quiet,” Quiyuan noticed, stilling, his hand hovering over his sex visibly swelling against his underwear.
You met his eyes, his warm gray irises that were on you and offered a deeper recognition than mere sight ever could. Though, his blindness had the pleasant side effect of him being entirely oblivious to the notion of shame one might feel when they were ogled at so boldly as you were eyeing him.
His head was tilted, the faintest smile playing around his lips while he waited for your response.
“I’m enraptured, is all,” you said quietly, heat flushing your cheeks, “Sorry.”
A soft chuckle and a shake of his head came as an answer, then Qiuyuan reached into his lap to free his erection from his underwear.
It really was a shame, you thought for the millionth time, that he couldn’t see how beautiful he was. How perfect the pronounced edge of his v-line and the trail of dark hair running down from his navel were in guiding your admiring gaze to his hard length, standing proud between his legs. All of him was enchanting, but his cock was a special delight, large as it was with its rosy tip contrasting his pale skin.
“Are you still staring?” Qiuyuan asked.
“No,” you said, and he laughed because he knew it to be a lie.
He came forward, falling into his previous position, though now his hand cupped your face, then tangled in your hair. “Before knowing you,” he said, his voice low, “I didn’t know people could want so intensely.”
You knew he was talking about you - your desire pelting his sensitive perception like a hailstorm - as much as himself. For he didn’t want you any less, but he had to tell you so in more tangible ways. His lips meeting yours with a greater intensity, his tongue eagerly lapping up your taste, for instance. Or his hand stroking down the column of your throat, over your bouncing pulse, then to your collarbone and below the neckline of your shirt to rest over your heart. His legs settled between yours that were spread apart to welcome him in, and his cock slid over the mound of your pussy, just barely grazing your eager clit to make your breath hitch.
“Tease,” you huffed, squeezing his hips between your thighs.
“Hey now,” he muttered in jest, “don’t forget I’m blind.”
You rolled your eyes. Both of you knew that had nothing to do with it. He knew his body, and he knew yours like no other. Nothing that happened in your lust was left to chance.
You hooked your legs around his waist, your pelvis angling upwards so your slick was pressed against his cock.
“I can do that too, you know?” You reminded him, rocking your hips slightly so the wet lips of your pussy slid along him.
“Mmh,” he hummed, freeing his hand from your shirt and instead reaching low to press it to the now exposed underside of your thigh, your flesh spilling between his splayed fingers, “I know. But I can do it better.”
Even before the last word had left his mouth, you knew you’d gotten yourself into a disadvantageous situation. His weight pinned you down, his hand held you in place, and your quivering thighs were no match for the determined motions of his pelvis that made the tip of his cock press against your entrance, just barely not dipping into you.
You sounded out your frustration, reaching up to give one of his dark strands of hair that fell around you a tug. “Qiuyuan,” you whined in that tone, that special tone he’d confessed sent him reeling.
“Ah,” he sighed, recognizing the old game you loved to play, “I know, I know. You’ve been waiting.”
He gave in to your impatient pull, edging forwards slowly, always mindful to listen to your tells. Your breathing stopped when he entered you, stretching you to spark a delicious sting. He pushed farther, his girth splitting you open, your pussy tight around it. A strangled groan left you, your eyes closing to welcome darkness into your mind. It made you feel even more connected to him, relinquishing your sight so that together you could feel.
Quiyuan sensed your slick heat enveloping him, a soft moan falling from his lips, his fingers twitching against your thigh. Just one stroke into the plush warmth of you nearly made him falter, trembles running down his spine. And yet, he pressed on, his cock sinking deeper into you until he bottomed out, sealing his full length inside you.
Your eyebrows were furrowed and your voice was a series of chopped whimpers, the intrusion being such an overwhelming attack on your senses. He was large and hot and pulsed into you. And Qiuyuan made you feel it all, biding his time and waiting. Falling forward, he pressed his upper body to yours. The planes of his chest squeezed the round of your breasts, the firmness of his abdominals met your soft belly. In this unity, your otherwise so hard to grasp form was as a steadfast sculpture. He felt you all around himself, not just where he was sheathed inside you, still unmoving, felt the softness of your hair when he ran his free hand through it to soothe you until mewls became eager breaths, felt your calves encouraging him to move when you dragged them across his lower back. And you were you, so he could only grant you your wishes. All of them, forevermore.
Qiuyuan pulled back against the tension in your legs slowly, leaving you feeling hollowed out when he almost entirely withdrew from you, but then he dove into you once more. Again there was that stretch, but it wasn’t accompanied by pain, just the gratifying feeling of pride because your body could envelop him like this, consume him, make him yours.
He uttered your name when you tensed around him, bringing his face to your neck. You offered him your throat and he worshiped it with his lips, kissing over your bobbing adam’s apple and the strings of your tendons and muscles.
Your fingers webbed around the back of his head, combing through his hair. It was so rare that he let it down like this, freely falling around him and you as he fell into a slow rhythm of rocking his hips into you. He breathed you in, your scent taking well to his skin that was washed clean from the waterfall. It smelled like the bed that you shared and all the moments in it that were all yours.
You wiggled yourself deeper into the grass, pushing your hips up for a slightly changed angle, Quiyuan’s subsequent thrusts finding the sweet spot buried inside you. You cried out his name and pulled him into you, evoking a low groan from him, and he sped up, slowly coming undone. The sounds that you made and the sure effortlessness with which you quenched the hungry desire bubbling in his core picked him apart relentlessly.
He felt like he was the ocean and you were the moon tugging at him, shaping him to your desires, dictating the ebb and flow of his tide.
Law of nature. He and you.
The faster pace was exhilarating, and still you wanted more, yet more, your walls clamping down hard on Qiuyuan’s cock, your clit pulsing with neglect. You tugged on his hair a bit harder, and Qiuyuan responded by taking your skin between his teeth. You’d be hard pressed to even call it a bite, the gesture so careful that it was barely felt. His hand went from your hair to your cheek where he felt heat. Under your shell it simmered, your blood running hot for him, coloring your face, he knew. His fingers caressed lower, dipping into the curve between your neck and shoulder, then over your collarbone and the mound of your breast. A brief flash of regret was in his mind. He really should’ve taken your shirt off. Even through the fabric he could feel the stiff peak of your nipple and the smaller bumps around it. He thumbed over the sensitive bud, making your breath stumble. Fire kindled on your skin in the wake of his touches, and it wasn’t contained to those lines, instead spreading throughout your body, burning bright in your core where his cock sliding against the slippery silk of your insides sparked embers of pleasure. They sat buried within you like hot coals that fed the fire echoing through your being.
Your head lolled to the side with Qiuyuan’s hand not there to support it anymore. His palm stroked along the arcs of your ribs now, down to your midriff, but then his warm touch faded.
You broke your self-imposed sensual limitation when you squinted one eye open, seeing him reach up to grasp your wrist at the back of his head.
He dragged it away and curled his back, opening a small space between your converging bodies to let your hand slip into.
“Feel good with me,” he whispered, then continued to sing his bliss into your ear in those delicious, divine moans.
You wanted to tell him that you already did, that him being here, filling you out with the certain thrusts of his cock into you, always lifted you to the highest plains of pleasure, but you knew what he was getting at. Your hand dove between your legs, and while you were hungry and eager to soothe the turbulent waves of pressure building in your core, your curiosity got the better of you. Your palm rested on the swell over your slit, your pointer split from the rest of your fingers when you roamed low. Your eyes were closed again, and it allowed you to simply feel how the swollen lips of your pussy curved around Qiuyuan’s cock, how it moved in and out of you unwaveringly, your slick spilling out of you.
Qiuyuan let out an appreciative hum when he noticed what you were doing, his movements gaining even more steam. He wanted to do good, not because he felt as though he needed to impress you, but because you deserved it. This and much more.
“Quiet,” he muttered, reminding you that you’d gotten so lost in your fascinating discoveries that your voice had died down. He didn’t want you to be quiet. A harsher, deeper thrust made his cock pummel into your cervix and you cried out.
“Sorry,” he said and did it again. Had your mind not been so foggy, you would have rolled your eyes. He was about as apologetic for this as you were for spying on him every morning.
“Qiuyuan!” You whimpered. Your hand jerked back as if by its own will, the pads of your index and middle fingers carrying moisture to your buzzing clit. The nerve endings felt like they were flayed open, your light touch evoking a disproportionately intense, searing bliss that raced down to your toes and up to the roots of your hair, making your entire body a map of your pleasure.
“Too much?” He asked. You could hear the dryness in his throat from the quick and flat breaths he was taking.
You made a sound that was neither assent nor dissent. Asking your cervix you wanted to say yes, you did not exactly appreciate it getting pestered like this. Then again, a little pain was not nearly enough to even dim the glow of the pleasure radiating outwards from your clit that you gently stroked in lazy, slow circles drawn around it. Every now and then you had your fingertips graze over the sensitive organ directly to send a sharper delight through you. It brought you ever closer to the precipice before the liberating fall into your climax, and yet you still held on for your lover.
Qiuyuan felt the muscles of your pelvic floor being pulled taut, making it so your pussy clenched around him as though you sought to milk him. He wanted nothing more than to give himself to you, pumping in and out of you faster, harder, though now more mindful of your limits. He kept on repeating your name like a prayer, there, nestled against your neck, his fiery breath gusting over your skin. He felt you and him as one, drawn into your rapture, your desire filling out every corner of his mind. It was your undying, desperate wish to break, to cum with him and around him and for him.
It sounded like you wanted to say something, but you took your own words away by speeding up your self-caresses, your legs around Qiuyuan’s back so tense that it burned. Yet again, Qiuyuan squeezed your thigh, and from his own hoarse groans it was evident how close he was to his own high. He took a breath, held it for a second, and then he shattered the last of your chains.
“Fall,” he said, and you did.
You craned your head back and keened, sounding out your final release of pleasure. Built up for so long, yet always meant to come crashing down. That was the orgasm that washed through you, cleaned your mind of everything that wasn’t Qiuyuan. His cock throbbing within you, filling you with ropes of his hot cum when your irresistible mewls that neared sobs of relief pulled him into his own orgasm. It tumbled down his spine, knocking the wind out of him and the tension out of his limbs, his arm shaking to support his weight while he kept you sealed for a moment longer. He wanted to bask in your warmth, the silent glow of a shared orgasm that made you soft and pliable. Your fingers drew gentle circles into his nape, over the bumps of his vertebra. He shuddered, then caved, resting his tired body on yours, trusting in your strength and resilience.
When you opened your eyes again, the world appeared blurry and colorful like a watercolor painting in a dream. You looked down to see Qiuyuan’s head resting on your chest. His eyes were closed and his lips parted. Soft and pink, so inviting were they, but alas - out of reach.
It was a little harder to breathe with Qiuyuan atop you, but you could accept it when he pushed his arms under you to hold you close.
And so you lingered, for a few sweet moments in the morning light, your hands filing through his almost dry hair, his breaths and pulse slowing. You could feel his heart thumping against his ribs, calm finding it as it found Qiuyuan.
He hummed, then he forced himself to finally roll off you, withdrawing his softening cock out of you and falling onto his back. You could feel his cum, mixed with your fluids, dribble out of you and into the grass below and sighed.
“Hmm,” Qiuyuan hummed.
“What?” You asked softly, your hand finding his, brushing over his knuckles until he enclosed it.
“Nothing,” he answered, “Just… Content. This was nice.”
“Mhm,” you agreed, looking into the bright blue sky, listening to the wind rustling through the foliage of the trees around you.
“You’ve really been watching me every day?” Qiuyuan suddenly asked.
Your cheeks colored. “Not every day,” you muttered, “Just when I happened to be awake and missing you.”
Qiuyuan shook his head, exasperated. “Clingy,” he said, but it wasn’t meant in disapproval.
“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a chuckle, turning your head to watch his profile, his strong jaw, the straight outline of his nose perfectly leading into the round of his lips. You pushed yourself up and pressed a kiss to those very lips, Qiuyuan responding with a surprised hum, his hand finding the small of your back.
You didn’t linger too long, though the expert play of his tongue was hard to pull away from, and reached for your lower garments, getting onto your wobbly legs to redress yourself, wordlessly handing Qiuyuan his belt so he could make himself decent again too.
“Where to?” Qiuyuan asked, looking around, mapping the surroundings in his mind.
“Breakfast?” You suggested.
He nodded, said, “So long as you’re on the menu”, then entwined his fingers with yours, and together you walked back home, him chuckling, and you blushing.