Ira was swimming through a crystal-clear lake, his eyes closed in bliss as he floated on his back. The sun was high in the cloudless sky above him, mythological birds chirping from the tree-line. Leaves rustled as animals moved through them, the win nearly non-existent.
He opened his eyes when he head a voice in the distance. Turning over, he swam to a shallower part of the lake. Ira was about to enact something he’d seen plenty of times in shows and movies; the coveted “walked in on while bathing naked in the lake” scene. It was even the perfect weather for it; warm and sunny summer.
He placed his feet on the shallow end and stood up, the water coming all the way up to his naval. Looking down at where the water met his skin, he hummed and took a couple of steps back until the water ended was just above his dick.
He turned so that his back was facing the direction the voices came from and pulled his long hair over his shoulder, letting some of it stay over his back. It went all the way down to the top of his butt, the wet strands clinging to his skin. Lazily pulling his fingers through his hair and whistling (this body could do that!) quietly to himself , he waited.
The voices came closer, and soon enough he could hear their footsteps. Ira continued to stare straight ahead, pretending that he couldn’t hear anything.
“There’s someone here!” somebody shouted from the tree-line.
Ira jumped like he’d been startled and spun around on his heel, making he was wearing a horrified expression. “What are you doing?!” he yelled, stumbling a step backward.
The cultivator frowned and said, “This is a restricted area, it belongs to the Purple Cloud Sect.”
Ira widened his eyes dramatically. “I—” he’d just started to say when somebody else walked through the foliage and ended up on the lake bank. The new cultivator was wearing the same purple uniform as the other one but had a much more grave expression.
Ira moved as if to cover himself up, and froze up like he’d just realized he was naked. He stared with a dreadful expression at the cultivators, asking in a trembling voice, “What… what will you do with me?”
The first cultivator gulped, for some reason. “You’ll have to come with us to see our Lord.”
Ira shivered, pulling his shoulders up like he was afraid. He hoped he was using the right body-language here, he wasn’t very good at it. But it didn’t seem like the cultivators had clued in to the fact that he was acting. So it was probably fine.
“I’ll, I’ll go with you,” Ira said, trembling as he hurried out of the waters and pulled on his robes as quickly as he could. He didn’t even dry himself and water quickly started seeping through them. The grumpy cultivator waved for him to follow.
They walked through the mountain and quickly reached a pavilion. It had been concealed from sight by an array but when he walked through it, he could see it clear as day. Ira made sure to shudder again. Frankly, he’d basically been in the pavilion’s backyard, so close was the lake to the building. Obviously, people were suspicious about this.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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They walked into the main hall, Ira pretending to be looking around fearfully. He huddled in on himself, trying to keep a bit of distance from the other cultivators. He was herded all the way to the main hall, all the way up to the raised dais.
“An intruder, my Lord,” the grumpy cultivator said when they were standing still at a respectful distance from the chair (Ira had a sneaking suspicion that it was a throne) the lord sat in.
The lord — Darcy, that was — leaned forward. He narrowed his eyes and stared straight at Ira, his gaze penetrating to the core. Ira had the unsettling sensation that he could see exactly what Ira was, but he didn’t mind it. Darcy didn’t say anything for a moment, and Ira decided to continue playing his game for a bit.
“I didn’t mean to,” he said weakly, his voice shaking. He took a staggering step back like he was scared, looking around as if he was searching for an escape route.
Darcy smirked. “All intruders must be interrogated, to make sure they don’t have nefarious purposes.”
“Interrogation?” Ira asked, shedding his act like a snake sheds its skin. He stood up straight and frowned, “Those aren’t any fun for the one being interrogated.”
Darcy rose a dark eyebrow. “There are… other ways to find out a persons plans.”
Ira furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head in confusion. Scratching at his nose, it took him a while to make the connection. “Oh, that. Yeah, I’m not doing that. Do you have any pastries? I’m hungry.”
“Insolent—” the non-grumpy cultivator by his side hissed. He was interrupted by a sharp glare from Darcy.
“I’m sure we can find something you’ll enjoy,” Darcy said to Ira. He waved and Ira walked up to him, taking the man’s soft hand when it was offered to him. Darcy smiled at him, his eyes warm. Ira felt something tingle in the hand holding Darcy’s and he smiled back.
He ignored Darcy sending the other cultivators away, leaning them alone in the fancy hall. Instead, he studied Darcy’s new body; it was wider than he was used to, the flesh soft and cushiony. He was the spitting image of the Fatty side character in cultivation novels. The rich one that was the son of a minister or a minor prince or something.
He was really fluffy. Ira wanted to touch. Would it be rude to poke the cheek? He wanted to poke the cheek, it looked so soft. Darcy was never this soft, he was always uncomfortable to cuddle with. Yeah, sometimes he was less uncomfortable but it was never the ideal.
They were still holding hands when they were alone.
“What’s your name?” Ira broke the silence that had fallen over them.
“Li Dawei,” Darcy said. He rose from his seat and, still holding Ira’s hand, started walking toward a side door. Ira allowed himself to be led, swinging their hands in the air. Darcy threw him a distracted smile but didn’t say anything about it.
They walked through a long corridor uninterrupted by other people.
This was a cultivation world. The setting was simple; lots of cultivation sects ran around wild through the countries. Purple Clouds dSect was only one of many, but it had the backing of the King of a country and thus had more sway in mortal society than sects usually did. Ira assumed this just meant that the king was Darcy’s father and he was feeling sentimental or scheming something.
Darcy slid open a door, closing it behind him. Ira stepped further into the room, looking around curiously before he walked over to the couch and sat down. He hadn’t been in a cultivation world in a really long time, so it was the first time he was sitting on a couch like this in a while. It wasn’t bad.
Darcy sat down next to him, basically radiating warmth. Without a word, Ira scooted closer and leaned against him.
“Your name?” Darcy asked, playing with Ira’s fingers.
“I—” he stopped and frowned. He couldn’t use that name here, it would stand out too much. “Bai Ping,” he settled on instead. It was the name of the body he was possessing, something that he usually wouldn’t use for himself but sometimes you just had to make do.
“Bai Ping,” Darcy — Li Dawei — said. He rolled the name on his tongue and tasted it, his voice soft as he uttered it.
Ira nodded, perhaps superfluously. Darcy grinned at him, and Ira could no longer resist. He scooted even closer to Darcy, laid his head on the man’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Darcy’s arm quickly rose around his body to cage him in, hugging him carefully. His hand gently painted circles on Ira’s waist.
Ira exhaled softly. He sank deeper against the man, going utterly boneless. “I’ve missed you,” he said, not as surprised anymore to find that it was true.
He’d taken a break after the last mission, spending some time just rereading his favorite stories and going to the regular meetings with his Boss. Like he’d expected, his Boss was ecstatic that he was caring less and less about his Hosts’ humiliation.
“I’ve missed you as well,” Darcy murmured softly.
They stayed sitting on the couch for about half an hour before Ira’s stomach grumbled and he placed a hand over it. He was hungry; he hadn’t eaten anything since early this morning when he first started making his way up the mountain. Humming, he looked over at Darcy and said, “I believe somebody said there would be cakes.”
Darcy, poorly, disguised his laugh as a cough hidden behind his sleeve. It made Ira take another look at the clothes he was wearing. The robes were one and flowing, a soft purple color inoffensive to the eyes. He quite liked it, now that he thought about it.
He fingered one of Darcy’s sleeves as the man stood and said, “I’ll get a servant to get some for you.”
Ira smiled up at him. He shivered, the coldness of the lake water finally starting to have an actual affect. Or maybe it had one earlier but he’d turned down his ability to feel temperature to bathe in lake as it was surprisingly cold for summer. Regardless, he was beginning to feel the cold now and shivered again.
Darcy frowned. “You need to get out of those clothes,” he said and quickly stalked out of the room. Ira looked after him, bemused, and slumped back against the couch. After a second, he changed positions so that he was lying on it, the pillow below his head.
Li Dawei (was that right?) returned so quickly Ira had barely had time to notice his absence. He was followed by a servant that was carrying a large stack of fabric in their hands. Ira wondered how they could see above it but maybe they were a cultivator and it didn’t matter?
“I hope it’s alright that you’re wearing our sect’s uniform?” Darcy asked while the servant laid it out on a table. Ira stood up with Darcy’s help — the couch was lower than he was used to — and started pulling his layers of clothing off.
“It’s fine,” he said. The servant wiped him down with a fluffy towel (also purple) and then helped him dress in the sect’s clothes.
Ira looked down on himself and pulled a little on the long sleeves. When he waved his hands through the air, they fluttered in front of him. Smiling, he spun around and watched the fabric follow.
Yes, he quite liked this.
Darcy sent the servant off and not longer after, another one arrived with a tray full of food. Ira was already sitting again, so it was Darcy that opened the door. With the pastries in front of him, Ira felt no need for self-control.
He started munching on them right away. Darcy resettled next to him, and Ira was surrounded by all his favorite things. Good cakes, a person that made warmth shoot through him, far away from his undoubtedly annoying Host.
Come to think of it, what the hell was his Host doing? Ira hadn’t given her any thought since he arrived in this world. Whatever, it was probably fine.
Probably
Maybe?
perhaps
presumably
conceivably
indubitably
Certainly
Undoubtedly
huh
plausibly
possibly
Siguro?
Marahil?
I didn’t expect a chubby ML to show up here too! Super adorable!
The ml is always to sweet and cute..!