poor tingsheng's life is so hard
Dec. 21st, 2018 06:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
likefireinanaviary[re-post from tumblr]
Tingsheng is humming to himself as he walks down the corridor. No one here punishes him or even scolds him when he does it, unlike in the palace, and his old habit has reasserted itself since he started living with Prince Jing.
Sir Su has come for a visit, and finally Tingsheng can present his answers to the questions Sir Su has set him last time.
He hopes he does well. Sir Su is gentle and kind and although he loves Prince Jing like the father he doesn’t remember having, Tingsheng will never forget the debt he owes to Sir Su and hopes to repay one day. But more than that, Tingsheng likes the way Sir Su always looks proud and a little wistful, when he thinks Tingsheng has said something particularly insightful.
As he gathers the books lent to him from his room and hurries toward the study where Prince Jing and Sir Su are playing wei qi, according to General Lie, Tingsheng considers how, of late, Prince Jing has been looking considerably happier and less tense.
Oh, he still looks worried more often than not, and strict with Tingsheng’s lessons, but more often than not Tingsheng has found the prince smiling after one of Sir Su’s visits. Tingsheng could have even sworn he once heard the prince gently rib General Lie about his crush on the flower girl in the market. Maybe after Sir Su leaves Tingsheng can take the opportunity to ask permission to visit Feiliu ge ge soon.
So absorbed in his excitement at the possibility of a playdate in his future, Tingsheng failed to notice the uncharacteristic lack of good-natured banter as he neared the study. In hindsight, it really should’ve been his first clue.
And thus, when he turned the corner, Tingsheng was confronted with the sight of His Royal Highness Prince Jing and Sir Su, locked in a heated embrace.
Horrified, Tingsheng’s eyes can’t help but take in the scene.
Prince Jing has pressed Sir Su up against the wall, with one hand pinning his wrists. One of Sir Su’s legs has wrapped itself around the prince. Prince Jing’s mouth is on Sir Su’s neck.
Belatedly, Tingsheng registers the sounds. Disturbing sounds. Sounds that are coming from Sir Su, hitched gasps and quiet whining noises as he shakes against Prince Jing.
Tingsheng stands there, frozen. His brain is screaming at his feet to move, to sneak away before he’s seen, but somehow they refuse to budge.
After a pause that feels like an eternity, Tingsheng finally reasserts some semblance of control over his limbs and gets his feet to obey. He turns to go except—oh god—in his rush he’s dropped the books in his hands. He flinches as they clatter, loudly, to the floor.
Prince Jing springs apart from Sir Su so quickly and puts such distance between them that a remote part of Tingsheng is impressed.
The three of them stare at each other, wordlessly.
Prince Jing clears his throat. “Ah, Tingsheng,” He says, doing an incredibly poor job at sounding normal, “Sir Su was just- we were just, um.”
He stutters to a stop and looks desperately at Sir Su. His face is crimson.
In contrast and in defiance of his currently disheveled state, Sir Su looks calm and even slightly amused.
He ignores the sputtering from the other side of the room. “Have you finished those books already?”
“Um, er, yes,” Tingsheng is uncomfortably aware that his face is probably just as red as Prince Jing’s. He bends and picks up the books hastily, unable to look either of them in the face.
“Thank you for lending them to me.” He all but shoves them at Sir Su and makes as dignified an exit as one is able when one is also half running out of the room.
Behind him, he thought he hears the faint sounds of laughter.
Well. That explains the mystery of why Prince Jing has been in such a good mood, lately. Tingsheng’s glad for the both of them, but for the sake of his poor eyes he really should start announcing himself before entering rooms.
Tingsheng is humming to himself as he walks down the corridor. No one here punishes him or even scolds him when he does it, unlike in the palace, and his old habit has reasserted itself since he started living with Prince Jing.
Sir Su has come for a visit, and finally Tingsheng can present his answers to the questions Sir Su has set him last time.
He hopes he does well. Sir Su is gentle and kind and although he loves Prince Jing like the father he doesn’t remember having, Tingsheng will never forget the debt he owes to Sir Su and hopes to repay one day. But more than that, Tingsheng likes the way Sir Su always looks proud and a little wistful, when he thinks Tingsheng has said something particularly insightful.
As he gathers the books lent to him from his room and hurries toward the study where Prince Jing and Sir Su are playing wei qi, according to General Lie, Tingsheng considers how, of late, Prince Jing has been looking considerably happier and less tense.
Oh, he still looks worried more often than not, and strict with Tingsheng’s lessons, but more often than not Tingsheng has found the prince smiling after one of Sir Su’s visits. Tingsheng could have even sworn he once heard the prince gently rib General Lie about his crush on the flower girl in the market. Maybe after Sir Su leaves Tingsheng can take the opportunity to ask permission to visit Feiliu ge ge soon.
So absorbed in his excitement at the possibility of a playdate in his future, Tingsheng failed to notice the uncharacteristic lack of good-natured banter as he neared the study. In hindsight, it really should’ve been his first clue.
And thus, when he turned the corner, Tingsheng was confronted with the sight of His Royal Highness Prince Jing and Sir Su, locked in a heated embrace.
Horrified, Tingsheng’s eyes can’t help but take in the scene.
Prince Jing has pressed Sir Su up against the wall, with one hand pinning his wrists. One of Sir Su’s legs has wrapped itself around the prince. Prince Jing’s mouth is on Sir Su’s neck.
Belatedly, Tingsheng registers the sounds. Disturbing sounds. Sounds that are coming from Sir Su, hitched gasps and quiet whining noises as he shakes against Prince Jing.
Tingsheng stands there, frozen. His brain is screaming at his feet to move, to sneak away before he’s seen, but somehow they refuse to budge.
After a pause that feels like an eternity, Tingsheng finally reasserts some semblance of control over his limbs and gets his feet to obey. He turns to go except—oh god—in his rush he’s dropped the books in his hands. He flinches as they clatter, loudly, to the floor.
Prince Jing springs apart from Sir Su so quickly and puts such distance between them that a remote part of Tingsheng is impressed.
The three of them stare at each other, wordlessly.
Prince Jing clears his throat. “Ah, Tingsheng,” He says, doing an incredibly poor job at sounding normal, “Sir Su was just- we were just, um.”
He stutters to a stop and looks desperately at Sir Su. His face is crimson.
In contrast and in defiance of his currently disheveled state, Sir Su looks calm and even slightly amused.
He ignores the sputtering from the other side of the room. “Have you finished those books already?”
“Um, er, yes,” Tingsheng is uncomfortably aware that his face is probably just as red as Prince Jing’s. He bends and picks up the books hastily, unable to look either of them in the face.
“Thank you for lending them to me.” He all but shoves them at Sir Su and makes as dignified an exit as one is able when one is also half running out of the room.
Behind him, he thought he hears the faint sounds of laughter.
Well. That explains the mystery of why Prince Jing has been in such a good mood, lately. Tingsheng’s glad for the both of them, but for the sake of his poor eyes he really should start announcing himself before entering rooms.
