Song Pu lowered his gaze, his vision swimming, his whole body feeling as though it had been set over a fire.
Shame overwhelmed his will, forcing him to bury his face in the bedding.
If he approached it with the mindset of a straight man, it did not seem like much, nor did it feel so humiliating. Yet once his perspective shifted, the sense of yielding beneath another man became unbearably intense, leaving him too ashamed even to look at Tantai Yi. All he could hear was the sound of Tantai Yi’s breathing by his ear.
Absurdly, hopelessly, he even found that sound unbearably alluring. There was truly something wrong with him.
When had he become so indulgent towards this blasted emperor, to the point of agreeing to such a ridiculous demand?
Damn it, he cursed inwardly, the ache between his legs pulsing in waves, tears pricking at his eyes.
Why was he putting himself through this?
When Tantai Yi finally withdrew, breath unsteady, he reached out to pull Song Pu closer, but failed. The satisfaction and excitement he had just felt dimmed somewhat. His brows drew together slightly, his voice still hoarse. “Lord Song?”
Song Pu ignored him, his body rigid, face buried in his arms, refusing to look up. Tantai Yi applied a little force and easily drew him upright, but the moment his eyes fell upon Song Pu’s tear-streaked face, he faltered.
Song Pu did not want him to see. His sleeve slipped, revealing a pale, finely shaped arm, which he raised to shield most of his face, leaving only his trembling, reddened lips exposed.
That fleeting glimpse had already startled Tantai Yi, leaving him momentarily at a loss. After a pause, he fumbled at his person and produced the special ointment, saying, “I forgot how delicate you are. That was my fault. Come, open your legs. I will apply the medicine.”
At this point, Song Pu could not help thinking that if not for Tantai Yi, how could he ever have indulged another man to such an extent? His hands were one thing, but allowing himself to be pressed beneath him was quite another. He still had his pride as a man. The feeling of being overpowered and controlled was deeply unpleasant, humiliating, enough to make him feel as though he might break.
He had not wanted to cry. At his age, he only wept from physical pain or by design. No matter how wronged he felt, he would not shed tears. Yet now, he could not hold them back.
Even though he had agreed to it, he still resented Tantai Yi as the instigator. He resented him for pushing him to lose control, for his roughness that left him burning with pain, and most of all for insisting on taking the upper hand.
The resentment welled up, stirring his temper. Choking slightly, he said, “I can manage it myself. How could I trouble Your Majesty?”
He wiped his eyes with his arm, darted a quick glance at Tantai Yi, and reached out to take the ointment.
Tantai Yi snatched it back. “I will apply it. You need only lie still.”
Song Pu shot him a glare, then turned his face away. “In that case, I am no longer in pain. I am tired. I wish to rest.”
With that, he pulled the covers over himself and turned away.
Tantai Yi felt the words catch in his throat. The pleasure from before dissipated almost entirely. Leaning down, he murmured by Song Pu’s ear, “Why will you not let me help you?”
Song Pu did not respond.
Irritation rose in Tantai Yi, yet he knew he was at fault and could not vent his temper. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Then I shall ease you as well. What say you?”
Song Pu still ignored him. Tantai Yi ceased asking and acted directly.
At the first touch, Song Pu arched sharply, crying out in pain. Tantai Yi withdrew at once, a flicker of unease passing through his golden eyes. “…What is it now?”
Veins stood out on Song Pu’s forehead. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Does Your Majesty mean to tear it off entirely?”
Tantai Yi retorted, “Nonsense. I did no such thing. I already held back.”
It took Song Pu a long while to recover. Lifting his eyes, he said, “If Your Majesty had used any more force, I would truly have been ruined.”
“That is because you are too delicate,” Tantai Yi replied. “This is the same force I use myself. If I can manage it, why can you not?”
That only angered Song Pu further. “How can I compare with Your Majesty? If I possessed such fortitude, would I be reduced to this?”
Sensing the argument about to escalate, Tantai Yi relented at once. “Very well, I was too rough. I shall be gentler next time.”
He studied Song Pu closely. The flush on his face had faded somewhat. Having truly wept, his eyes were rimmed with a lovely redness, bright and glistening, lending him a pitiful yet endearing look. Thinking of what had just transpired, Tantai Yi felt an inexplicable softness, as though steeped in warm water. His voice gentled further. “Do not be cross. Let me apply the medicine. Be good… I shall give you a reward.”
At that, Song Pu’s mood lifted at once. “Your Majesty speaks truly?”
“Of course,” Tantai Yi said. “Lie properly. Once I have finished, you may choose a treasure from the storehouse tomorrow.”
He noted that Song Pu was easily coaxed. Offer him a reward, and he brightened at once, rather like himself.
Song Pu’s temper came swiftly and went just as quickly. Hearing this, he relaxed somewhat, lay back, and drew up his loose trouser leg.
By the candlelight, bright as day, Tantai Yi saw clearly the abraded, reddened skin, faintly streaked with blood. Guilt stirred in him. He had not realised his roughness could leave Song Pu injured.
He did not truly understand such pain. Yet seeing Song Pu’s tear-streaked face, the intensity in those eyes, so unlike anything he had shown before, he knew it must have hurt greatly for him to look at him so.
Even so, he could not help but think him excessively delicate. Such a state from merely a little roughness. If matters went further, would it not truly become unbearable?
Tantai Yi was no stranger to blood. He had witnessed countless executions and felt no particular unease. Yet imagining Song Pu in such a state made his chest tighten inexplicably. He could not name the feeling, only that he did not wish to see him so, not at all. The mere thought made his chest ache.
It was not an unfamiliar sensation. When his birth mother died, he had felt something similar, a constriction that made it hard to breathe.
Shaking off the thought, he took up the ointment, scooped out a generous amount with his long fingers, and applied it carefully.
Perhaps from the wine, or his heightened state, his control faltered. The instant his fingers touched him, Song Pu cried out, “Your Majesty, gently.”
His voice was soft and unsteady, and for no clear reason, it made Tantai Yi flush. Composing himself, he said with feigned displeasure, “Are you truly so delicate? I have barely touched you, and already you complain.”
Song Pu bristled. Who had caused his current state? Yet he spoke to him thus. Irritated, he replied, “Does Your Majesty know your own strength? If you do not restrain yourself, even applying medicine feels like punishment. In time, how am I to dare draw close to you?”
That struck directly at Tantai Yi’s concern. Born into privilege, he had never encountered such fragility. Looking only at Song Pu, he could not help finding him excessively delicate, and even felt a trace of frustration at the disparity. At this rate, when would they ever properly come together?
After a moment, he said, “You must train more with me in future.”
Song Pu choked slightly. “I would rather not…”
“You must,” Tantai Yi insisted. “I will accompany you. At this rate, I fear you may become the first consort in history to suffer such disgrace. Should it be recorded, you would indeed be remembered for generations.”
Song Pu fell silent, then asked awkwardly, “Would such matters truly be recorded?”
“Do you not know?” Tantai Yi said. “When members of the imperial line consummate their union, matrons record it. Should anything occur, rumours would spread swiftly. Not only would the official histories note it, but the unofficial accounts would embellish it further.”
Song Pu felt his scalp prickle. “Even such things are recorded?”
Tantai Yi laughed. “Did you not see the Founding Emperor’s illustrated volumes? If we were to lie together, I would also commission skilled painters to record us, so that future generations might admire our bearing.”
Song Pu: “……”
Good heavens. A lineage of lunatics.
He nearly fainted. “Your Majesty… would you truly allow others to see me thus?”
Tantai Yi frowned. “They are painters. They regard it as duty and would harbour no improper thoughts. If you object, once they have finished, I can have them drink poison and end their lives. That would resolve the matter.”
Song Pu: “…”
That brought him back to his senses. Tantai Yi’s faults were many, and his worst habits remained unchanged.
Just as his mood sank, he suddenly felt a chill and jolted upright. “Your Majesty, what are you doing?”
He pushed himself up and looked over, only to see a faint line of blood beneath Tantai Yi’s nose.
Song Pu: “…”
Tantai Yi touched it, saw the blood upon his fingers, paused, and said with perfect composure, “I merely took a look.”
