Soft Moshang thoughts // a little intimacy
Mobei Jun is a strong man. A force that loomed over all, striking fear in men and demons alike. MBJ is a powerful man, the king of the north whose influence stretches as far as the eye can see, only second to Luo Binghe.
Nothing about him says weak, nothing about him screams a need to be protected. But there was once a boy who looked at his family lovingly, a boy whose sincerity was trampled in the mud, who longed to be spoiled and coddled but was met with a neglectful father and a scheming uncle.
It’s been years since then, and while the scars of the past have yet to dissipate, they have quietly faded. Now he had someone waiting for him in their sleeping chamber, someone who would get worried when he got hurt, someone who would check up on him if he goes missing, someone who was even willing to die for him.
He arrived at the bathing quarters with much enthusiasm. His little consort had been waiting for his return.
“My King, I’ll be serving you today.”, QH said, in a respectful bow.
“What are you trying to do now?”, he replied, bemused.
“This servant, only wishes to give his king the utmost satisfaction”, QH said seriously, and after lifting his head, playfully wiggled his brows.
The head crown, elaborate accessories and layers of clothing were slowly stripped in front of QH, much like a shedding of pretenses kept up by the northern king.
The waters were a little warm, but he would gladly compromise for this feeling of bare skin against bare skin.
Qinghua lathered MBJ in soap and started massaging his stiff shoulders, his thumbs circling from one end to another. He’d stroke along either side of his spine and then slowly back up leaving goosebumps along its path.
“Hmm, good.” MBJ, said contently.
Then QH made his way to his arms. He grasped them with both hands, squeezing every inch of muscle all the way to his fingertips.
“Why do I feel like I’m being taken advantage of?” MBJ protested with closed eyes, in between sighs.
SQH was in the middle of pulling each digit, he paused and bit his finger in protest. “Who would dare take advantage of you?”
MBJ opened one eye to look at the other, who looked guilty for eating tofu.
“Shut your eye, I can’t concentrate!” QH said, while lightly pinching his cheeks.
QH sat at the edge of the tub and guided his head to the plush of his thigh. He slowly stroked from the base of MBJ’s neck to his temples, then gently added more soap on his head. One hand shielded his face from the water, while the other carded through his hair.
MBJ felt his breath hitch, as QH massaged his scalp carefully, as if afraid that the slightest pull would hurt him. He was treated so, so gently. Such a sense of fragility was foreign to him. But as QH deftly untangled his hair, in his hands, he felt like the most prized porcelain.
His breathing steadied, deep and unhurried. He turned his head to pepper soft kisses on QH’s thigh as if to show his gratefulness for the attention.
Time stretched on like this. With nothing but the sound of water trickling, soothing caresses and the smell of pine. The Northern King, in this moment, was but an ordinary man, basking in an ordinary love.
