Sunset Illusions ( Fa Ping x Li Shang )

Chapter 4: Silver Blossoms and Scarlet Scales

The warm body beneath him moaned and wriggled in pleasure, hot hands running up his back to clasp around his neck and broad shoulders. Shang kissed feverishly at a point on his neck, calloused palms running over toned abdomen and chest.

Those sweet, full lips were open to let out pants of pleasure and impatience. His raven hair had fallen loose and surrounded his face, those onyx eyes squeezed shut by pure want. Shang felt another wave of heat overtake him and he dipped lower, lower, touching skin that had never been exposed to the sunlight.

The whimpers coming from him were intoxicating, edging him on. Shang sighed contently.

"Ping."

Captain Li Shang opened his eyes to the early dawn light. He was cool with beaded sweat on his forehead and hairs along his hairline sticking to his skin. He lifted a hand to his face and rubbed his temples, groaning. And not in the way he had in the dream.

This was the fifth dream, to be exact. The fifth sweaty, steamy, stress-inducing dream that came rushing back whenever he looked or thought about the recipient of these lewd fantasies. Ping. Gods, even the name gave him goosebumps.

Shang started to sit up and noticed—for the fifth morning in a row—that he'd have to wash his sheets again. He cursed, throwing his inadequate pillow at the ground the same moment Chi-Fu burst in, eyes wide and sleeping robe in disarray. In his boney hand he clutched an official document.

Shang tried to rearrange himself to hide the problem most men had in the mornings when the skinny man cried out, "Captain! A message! From the General!" Shang froze immediately, eyes going wide and heart speeding. "We're needed at the front immediately!"

0*o*0

"For the last time, Mushu, you cannot tie Khan to a rocket to see if he'll blast off."

"Ping, my boy, I wouldn't tie him to a rocket, it'd have to be a couple dozen rockets to get your cow off the ground for liftoff."

"Nnneeerrg!"

"Down, Bessy."

"Stop jumping on his back. One of the troops might see you."

"Please, I am a master of stealth and camouflage."

"I found you easily enough when you were screwing around in my ancestors' shrine. And it's white everywhere, Mushu. There is no camouflage."

It was one day into walking, and Ping felt ready to make a nice pair of red dragon-hide boots if Mushu didn't shut up. They walked at the front of the orderly group behind Shang, with the third horseman at the back and the troops between them. There was really no need for order now; they just had to focus on getting there as soon as possible.

Shang rode ahead silently on his white horse, fierce eyes looking over the mountaintops and plotting out the trail in his head. Ping couldn't help but watch those eyes. He'd never seen anyone with such an intense stare before; it seemed like he could see past everything else, right down to what you were thinking.

Mushu, of course, couldn't help but notice and smirked.

"Enjoying the scenery, Ping-A-Ling?"