Yiren's breathing steadied, her tears gone, as the two of them stood beneath the gently dripping bamboo shower. With a determined glint returning to her eyes, she flashed Xuefeng a cheeky grin.
"I wasn't finished cleaning you," she insisted with soft resolve. "Sit."
She wiggled out of his arms and retrieved a small wooden stool from a corner. Xuefeng gave her a patient, knowing nod, then lowered himself onto it. A part of him still reeled at how naturally they'd fallen into such closeness, but he no longer fought it. After all, he'd promised her these few days.
The water pattered against his shoulders, warm and comforting, as Yiren reached for a bottle of fragrant shampoo again. She poured a generous amount into her palm, then into his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp with gentle thoroughness. Each deliberate motion felt purposeful, as though she wanted to ensure every spot was free of the day's grime.
After rinsing the soap from Xuefeng's head, Yiren let her gaze wander across his broad shoulders. A contemplative gleam sparked in her eyes. "We still need to clean your back," she murmured, retrieving her bottle once more.
But rather than simply drizzling it onto his skin, she poured the slick liquid across the curves of her own chest. Xuefeng's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise—then he stilled as Yiren pressed herself to his back, the soapy friction of her body gliding along his muscles. Her soft flesh felt slippery and warm against him, leaving faint streaks of foam as she moved.
A gentle flush crept over Xuefeng's cheeks. He'd committed himself to making these days memorable for her, so he let himself enjoy the sensation. She circled her arms around his waist, continuing the soapy dance.
"Enjoying it?" she asked, lips grazing his ear. "I can feel your friend down here… and he feels ready for battle."
She wasn't wrong. Through the intimate contact, Xuefeng's body had an undeniable reaction, evidenced by his aroused state. Yiren's parted lips formed a small "o" of curiosity as she let her hand drift down, accidentally brushing the rigid length that pressed insistently between them.
"What should I do with it?" she asked, her voice inquisitive, almost innocent. "It's so… hot." Her slender fingers curled around it. The remnants of slippery soap made her touch glide without effort.
"Before we go further," Xuefeng began quietly, gently stilling her hand, "why don't I give you a massage?" He looked over his shoulder at her, subtle tension in his expression. It's too soon, he thought. We'll ruin the moment if we rush.
Yiren's eyes flicked up, intrigued by the idea. "How?"
Pulling the stool back, Xuefeng turned and patted his lap. "Come here. This seat should fit us both."
A flush warmed Yiren's cheeks, but she obliged, settling between his thighs. He used his hands to gently cradle the front of her body, gliding them across the slick curves of her chest. Shampoo still coated her skin, letting his palms roam smoothly. Her nipples stiffened beneath his touch, a reaction that made her suck in a trembling breath.
"Mmm," she purred, a shiver rippling through her. "I like it… but can I have a kiss as well?" She tilted her head, eyes bright with desire.
He didn't hesitate, leaning forward to capture her lips. This time, the kiss crackled with hungry heat, a collision of tongues, each coaxing and exploring. Yiren twisted in his lap, straddling him sideways. Soon, the messy strokes of their hands and the frantic movement of their mouths morphed from a sensual "cleaning" to a fervent embrace. Her arms locked around his neck, pressing their bodies flush.
Xuefeng flinched slightly as he felt Yiren's lower body shift, allowing her most private area to graze along his length. She seemed to discover new pleasure in rubbing against him, each movement accompanied by a soft moan that he swallowed with his mouth. Attempting to redirect, he kissed her deeper, tangling his fingers in her hair, but rather than slow her, it spurred her further, fueling the raw heat building between them.
"Mmmh…" Yiren moaned, hips rolling in an urgent rhythm. She seemed less and less aware of the watery setting, losing herself in the mounting haze.
He was at his limit, throbbing tension coiling in every muscle. A small part of him recognized they were on a slippery bathroom floor. Not here, he cautioned himself, not wanting her first time to be in such a rushed, precarious environment.
"I feel like my mind's going to explode," Yiren gasped, breaking from his lips. Her eyes fluttered, filled with a swirl of confusion and rapture. "What about… your seeds?"
"It's—" Xuefeng's sentence died as Yiren's hands found him again, stroking relentlessly. He hissed, a groan escaping his chest. "Too late… for that…"
With a deft yank, Xuefeng pulled the shower rope overhead, rinsing away the foam that slicked across them. Yiren instinctively lowered herself to the soaked floor, her gaze glued to the burning desire that thrust through her palms. She interlocked her fingers into a tight squeeze just as Xuefeng grabbed her shoulders, his hips moving on its own.
"Aah—!" Her voice echoed as he trembled, spilling forth warm liquid all over her face and chest. Recalling her mother's teachings, she quickly jerked forward, catching the remaining bits with her mouth.
Xuefeng didn't stop her, panting heavily as he watched her tongue glide against the base, cleaning him until no liquid was left behind. She finally gazed up from below and swallowed, her cheeks flushing deep crimson.
He expected her to grow shy, but her next words caught his breath in his throat.
"I… love you," Yiren whispered, her eyes shining with absolute sincerity. "You're my only person, forever."
Before he could think of a response, she stood up and dove into his embrace, hugging him in silence as though content with the unspoken acceptance. He tightened his own arms around her, the thrum of their heartbeats melding into a single comforting rhythm.
At length, Yiren sighed and drew back, hands trailing across Xuefeng's damp skin. "We should rinse off and head to bed," she said softly. "Tomorrow is the tournament, and we both need rest." She reached for the rope overhead, giving it a light tug. Warm water streamed over them, washing away the last remnants of soap.
They continued to wash one another with a newly found intimacy, neither self-conscious nor hurried. Xuefeng eventually noticed that there were no towels to be seen. "Is there, uh, any way to dry off?" he asked, glancing around the steamy bathroom.
A laughing light danced in Yiren's gaze. "We 'blow-dry,'" she teased. "Stand still—I'll handle it." She stepped back and raised her arm, letting a gentle gust of Air Qi swirl around him until his skin and hair felt warm and dry. Clapping her hands, she conjured the water from her own body into a shimmering sphere, which fell to the floor with a soft splash.
"You elves really do everything with elemental Qi," Xuefeng noted, brushing a stray lock of hair off her forehead. "Cooking, cleaning, crafts… it's more useful than I imagined."
"It's part of life here," Yiren said, a slight proud tilt to her chin. "We're sensitive to the elements and use them for everything, Air especially. It's the easiest for day-to-day tasks."
Satisfied that they were both clean and dry, Yiren took Xuefeng's hand, guiding him from the bathroom into a dimly lit bedroom. The bed he'd woken up in that morning stood at its center, draped in pale sheets and pillows. The hush of the night cloaked them as they slipped beneath the covers.
Xuefeng sank onto the mattress, and Yiren curled against him, tucking herself under his arm. The lingering warmth of the shower and the day's emotional upheaval left them both comfortably drained.
"Good night," she murmured, brushing a final kiss over his lips. Then she laid her head on his chest, the soft rhythm of his breathing lulling her. For a moment, Xuefeng stared at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, acutely aware of her steady heartbeat against his ribs. Soon, he let his eyes drift shut, a faint smile tugging his lips as he surrendered to the darkness, hoping tomorrow's dawn would bring clarity to both their hearts.