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It’s a curious thing, not desiring something everyone else does.
When Mu Qing was young and started his cultivation training, he often heard some unruly disciples complaining that their parents sent them to learn a cultivation method away from worldly pleasures instead of letting them live an ordinary life.
While most of the youths were diligent in their cultivation, those who did not want to be there were loud and spoke without restraint.
When the Guoshi was away, the young men would start gossiping about people working in the palace that Mu Qing had never heard of, who had been caught in compromising situations or outright making out, unseemly actions that would earn them a harsh scolding for their behavior.
Regardless, the young men claimed that they would rather be the ones holding the ladies in their arms and getting into trouble than meditate and recite the Ethics Sutra all day long.
Mu Qing never understood them and had no problem following a cultivation method that required purity of body and mind. At first, he thought that the problem was with the women, but the men didn’t arouse any feelings in him either.
Still, he tried to convince himself that maybe he would want that kind of intimacy later, when he wasn’t busy attending to the Crown Prince.
He tried to convince himself that he would want it after he returned to the Heavens.
He tried to convince himself that he would want it after a thousand temples were built in his honor.
As it turned out, no matter how much he focused on changing his mind, Mu Qing never wanted such intimacy and did not mind his cultivation method for over 800 years, and even now, with Feng Xin between his legs and his hands all over him, he is not quite sure if he wants it.
It’s not Feng Xin’s fault. Mu Qing has come to realize that he is a devoted lover who cares enough about him to ask several times if Mu Qing is comfortable with his touches and if there’s anything else he can do to please him.
There was a time when Feng Xin’s fists left cruel purple bruises all over Mu Qing’s skin, but now his hands feel good on his chest, moving up and down his sides as Feng Xin plants kisses all over his face and jaw.
Mu Qing does not mind the soft caresses and even likes them, but he is not sure if he is enjoying this moment as much as he should.
This is a completely new experience for Mu Qing, not unpleasant but still new, while this is not new territory for Feng Xin.
Mu Qing is aware that Feng Xin likes sex, not as much as Pei Ming who goes out of his way to seduce as many women as possible, but he was the one who brought up the subject in their relationship, and over the centuries, Mu Qing has caught him a handful of times strolling through the mortal realm with his arm wrapped around some mortal’s waist—sometimes pretty ladies, but more often handsome men.
He always assumed that Feng Xin’s aversion to women made it easier for him to get close to men, even though he was clearly attracted to both, but it didn’t matter either way, Feng Xin never stayed with any of his short-lived lovers for more than a handful of weeks, not because he didn’t care about them, but because he avoided getting attached.
Gods and mortals never intended to stay together for long, after all.
For a fleeting instant, Mu Qing wonders if Feng Xin would also leave him if he decides to open his mouth and tell him the truth, but the way Feng Xin drags his teeth down the column of his neck makes him shudder as all thoughts disappear from his mind.
“I think you liked that,” Feng Xin whispers into his ear, his breath tickling Mu Qing.
“Yes.” Mu Qing nods as he tilts his head just a little bit to stop feeling like Feng Xin is blowing into his ear every time he breathes.
Feng Xin takes this as a cue to sink his teeth into Mu Qing’s shoulder. Surprisingly, the pressure and the slight pain also feel good, and Feng Xin spends a lot of time kissing and teasing the skin there, so much so that Mu Qing is afraid that a bruise will appear on his pale skin before the night is over.
Regardless, Feng Xin is clearly doing his best, so Mu Qing figures that he should return the favor somehow. He raises a hand and slides his palm down Feng Xin’s strong abdominal muscles until he reaches the waistband of his pants.
He pauses there, unsure if he should continue, before Feng Xin grabs his wrist and guides his hand lower, while he stays focused on planting open-mouthed kisses on his collarbones, probably unaware that Mu Qing’s face is bright red and burning.
Feng Xin makes a sound similar to a moan and a groan as Mu Qing’s hand gets into his pants.
Mu Qing waits, breathing through his nose before slowly moving his hand up and down, to feel it—firm and hot, and silky soft in his palm. Despite all the jokes he has made about Feng Xin’s dick over the centuries, he never imagined that holding it would be like this.
In fact, he never expected to hold Feng Xin’s dick in any way. It was something that was completely out of the realm of possibility for him until recently.
“Is this good?” Mu Qing asks after a few more strokes.
“Yes.” Feng Xin moves to kiss him and moan into his mouth as Mu Qing moves his hand faster.
Mu Qing likes kissing, so he doesn’t hesitate to open his mouth to deepen the kiss when Feng Xin presses his thumb against his lower lip, but a part of him wonders if he would like kissing as much if he were kissed by someone other than Feng Xin.
“Slower,” Feng Xin says and his hand travels down Mu Qing’s torso to caress the skin below his navel. That feels good too. “Don’t you want this to last?”
Mu Qing is not sure. How long is sex supposed to last? He is already a little tired of lying on the bed, but he still takes his hand out of Feng Xin’s pants, because Feng Xin looks like he wants this moment to last.
Feng Xin straightens his back and kneels down on the bed. His hands move to undo the ties holding Mu Qing’s pants in place and he pulls them down, licking his lips as Mu Qing’s dick springs free and falls to his lower abdomen.
Unlike Mu Qing’s uncertain touches, Feng Xin doesn’t hesitate for a second when he reaches out to jerk Mu Qing off. He moves his hand up and down and circles his thumb around the head in a way that makes Mu Qing moan openly and feel like his whole body is tingling.
It’s good, really good, so Mu Qing is surprised when it starts to be too much.
“Wait!” The plea slips out of Mu Qing’s mouth with more urgency than he intended, causing Feng Xin to immediately stop.
They stare at each other for a moment. Mu Qing takes in Feng Xin’s wide eyes and blown pupils, his red lips, and the way his chest expands and contracts in time with his ragged breathing.
“I’m sorry,” Mu Qing sits up and covers himself with the robes that fell open earlier and slid down his shoulders, catching on his bent elbows. “I can’t do this after all.”
Mu Qing’s face feels uncomfortably hot as shame overwhelms him. He turns away, not sure if he can meet Feng Xin’s eyes.
“I told you to tell me if you feel uncomfortable!” Feng Xin snaps.
Mu Qing retreats even further, and maybe this is what makes Feng Xin realize that screaming impulsively is not the right thing to do now.
“Shit! What I mean is,” Feng Xin clears his throat, “did I do something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t.”
Feng Xin stands up from the bed and picks up his clothes from the floor to cover himself before sitting down next to Mu Qing on the mattress, their shoulders barely touching.
“If it’s because of your cultivation—” Feng Xin begins after a moment.
“It’s not that,” Mu Qing cuts him off. “You know I already took care of it.”
For Mu Qing, the decision to break the vows that had guided his entire life for so long was daunting and he even wondered a few times if it was worth it, but he really wanted to try; for Feng Xin and for himself.
Once, he even dared to ask Xie Lian for advice on what to do after sexual intimacy. While Xie Lian has no problem asking Crimson Rain for spiritual energy when he needs it, Mu Qing is too prideful to even consider asking Feng Xin for spiritual energy, so adopting a new cultivation method to maintain his power was always his only choice.
It’s disappointing that even after all that hard work, Mu Qing was too overwhelmed and couldn’t do it, but wanting to be by Feng Xin’s side is different from actually wanting him.
“Can I?” Feng Xin asks, moving as if he wants to put an arm around Mu Qing’s shoulders.
“Sure,” Mu Qing replies, taking a deep breath to stop the bitter, frustrated tears from spilling out of his eyes.
He holds it all back, refusing to ever let Feng Xin see him cry. Feng Xin’s weight on him is familiar and comforting, and it helps to slow down the frantic rhythm of Mu Qing’s heart.
“We can try again later?” Feng Xin offers when Mu Qing doesn’t say another word.
“Maybe.” Mu Qing shrugs. Who knows how the next time will go, but he would rather not embarrass himself any further. “It didn’t feel bad at all.”
“Yeah, it was good for me too,” Feng Xin agrees with a smile.
“But I guess I didn’t enjoy it as much as you did.”
“Oh.” Feng Xin’s smile fades.
“I have no problem with other kinds of physical intimacy,” Mu Qing rushes to explain, not willing to look at Feng Xin’s dejected expression. “I like kisses and caresses, but actual sex sounds like a lot right now.”
“We can take it even slower,” Feng Xin suggests.
Mu Qing nods absentmindedly with a hum.
“Is it strange that after all these years I still don’t want to have sex?” Mu Qing finally asks the question that has been bothering him for far too long.
“No,” Feng Xin answers. “It’s not.”
Mu Qing almost starts to cry again, but for different reasons, so he stands up and paces around the room with his arms crossed to calm himself down.
“What if I don’t want it anytime soon? What if I never want it?”
“I don’t mind waiting. It took us over 800 years to get along, I can wait for another millennium, or whatever it takes.” Feng Xin says and Mu Qing’s heart skips a beat. “If it never happens, just being with you will be enough.”
“Of course! You’d say something sappy like that.” Mu Qing rolls his eyes, but judging by the warmth of his cheeks, his face must have turned the color of ripe cherries.
“I can be even sappier,” Feng Xin challenges. “It’s always been you and me, we used to fight all the time and now, we still fight, but we also kiss sometimes, and it can stay like that for as long as you have me.”
Mu Qing groans and decides that’s enough vulnerability for one night. He straightens up and punches Feng Xin’s right bicep, not to hurt him in any way, but because it’s the only way he can think of to release the tension that’s engulfing them.
It seems to work, as Feng Xin takes his wrist and responds with a light-hearted punch to Mu Qing’s thigh.
“Do you want me to stay?” Feng Xin asks.
“Do whatever you want,” Mu Qing tries to sound nonchalant, but he appreciates the gesture.
Mu Qing tries to free his wrist from Feng Xin’s grip, but his hold is firm, so Mu Qing raises his free hand, but Feng Xin grabs his other wrist and the punch never makes it to his shoulder.
Feng Xin pulls him down onto the bed and Mu Qing falls on top of him.
“I changed my mind, leave.” Mu Qing says but makes himself comfortable on Feng Xin’s chest.
“No taking it back now.” Feng Xin kisses Mu Qing’s cheek.
Mu Qing would never dream of it, and he can only hope that Feng Xin feels the same way.