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Nie Huaisang hummed softly to himself as he held two different fans in his hands, weighing them to see what he thought of them. His qiankun sleeve was already full of other baubles, scented oils, talisman paper, and expensive inks, but he’d passed by his favorite fanmaker, who came on occasion from Lanling to sell in Qinghe as well, and he hadn’t been able to resist.
The market was busy that day, the chatter from various sellers and buyers so loud that Nie Huaisang picked over the offerings in near silence. He didn’t have anyone beside him to babble to, anyway. Nie Mingjue had found himself too burdened with meetings and organizational tasks to come along on their usual weekly excursion.
It was alright. Nie Huaisang smiled at the thought of reuniting in Nie Mingjue’s quarters that night, of the deep and soft kisses he would receive as recompense for having to renege on their agreement.
He ended up buying both fans with his da-ge’s money, before breathing the crisp air deep into his lungs. Nie Huaisang thought for a moment whether he should eat while he was out, but street food didn’t hold the same appeal for him if he couldn’t pout and beg for his strong, lovely da-ge to feed it directly between his lips.
So, loaded down with all manner of purchases, Nie Huaisang turned his feet back down the alleyways and roads that would lead him to the road home. He darted down a little-used alleyway, thinking to avoid the more crowded areas and, if he could, keep his beautiful silk robes from being dirtied with mud or dust. There were far fewer people once he got out of the market itself, but with that came dangers that Nie Huaisang hadn’t even thought about.
“That’s him, right? That’s Nie Huaisang!”
Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows furrowed, and he turned to the noise, confused why someone would directly point him out—he wasn’t exactly a private figure in Qinghe, thanks to the high status of Qinghe Nie as a great sect, but people usually weren’t so rude as to point.
But, by the time Nie Huaisang fully turned toward the danger itself, it was too late. Big hands grabbed Nie Huaisang’s arms, and then Nie Huaisang was almost entirely helpless.
Nie Huaisang looked at the men grabbing him, and didn’t see any obvious reason why they would be doing anything untoward. They looked very nondescript, not like what he thought a demonic cultivator or someone like that would look like. Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have given any of them a second thought if they hadn’t seized him.
“What are you—” Nie Huaisang demanded, trying to use his greater-than-average strength due to his cultivation to pull away. “Let go of me!”
Before he could get a hand free to grab for the single invisibility talisman he kept in his sleeve, another hand came out of nowhere, holding a cloth that got held directly over Nie Huaisang’s nose and mouth. Nie Huaisang held his breath, pulling and trying to twist away, but there were at least three people trying to hold him still.
There was nothing he could do about it.
Eventually, his body gave up and breathed in deep, and Nie Huaisang’s consciousness shattered into fuzzy pieces.
*
Things came back to Nie Huaisang in bits and pieces, as he woke up. His eyes blinked slowly, taking in the lantern in the center of the room, the shadows it cast in the corners. He felt a little bit sore, like he’d exerted himself.
Then, the hands on his arms, back then. How he’d been dragged through the streets of Qinghe for only a little bit before he’d passed out entirely. That explained that handful of men crouched by the door, talking amongst themselves like Nie Huaisang couldn’t hear them at all.
Well, he hadn’t moved yet. They had no way of knowing that he’d finally woken up.
“It’s been a shichen already! Where is that damn kid?”
“Calm down, ge. If he doesn’t deliver the letter and come back to us, he won’t get paid. Simple.”
One of them laid a hand on another, grasping with some amount of urgency. “Hey, how do we know Chifeng-zun will even pay the ransom? If Nie Huaisang is as useless as an heir as they say? Won’t he just ignore us and let us have him?”
Nie Huaisang closed his eyes again and cursed his luck. How could he have gotten into such a situation? He felt so foolish, but at the same time, nothing like this had ever happened to him before. How could he have known it was even possible to grab someone right off of the street like that, so close to the Unclean Realm? It was unthinkable.
There was a loud, raucous laugh that joined two of three of Nie Huaisang’s kidnappers together.
“Oh, he’ll pay. There’s no way he wouldn’t. Haven’t you heard how much Chifeng-zun gives his didi in allowance per year? All we’re asking for is half of that, for his dearest didi’s safe return.”
Nie Huaisang tried to lie as still as he could as his fingers crept into his sleeve, reaching for that invisibility talisman he’d left there. There was a door on the wall to Nie Huaisang’s left, not right next to the men, so if he could just—but his talisman wasn’t in his sleeve. Neither was any of his talisman paper, nor his fans or inks or anything else.
Nie Huaisang trembled a little bit as he realized that he’d been thoroughly robbed while unconscious. These men—they seemed too calm and collected to be amateurs. It was frightening.
Nie Huaisang wanted his da-ge to come save him quickly. He wanted to go home with his husband.
“Ge, are you sure you got everything off of him?” the calm one asked the hotheaded one. His eyes slid over to Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang knew that he was no longer presumed to be sleeping.
Nie Huaisang sucked in a big breath and huddled himself closer to the wall—the position he’d been in had been quite awkward, not to mention the hard flooring was a little bit hard on his back. And, this way, he could see his captors a little better.
“Hm? Yeah, I got it all. Everything down to the perfume. Smelled good, too.” The man’s head rolled toward the other’s. “Why are you asking—wait, really? He’s a man!”
“...A pretty one. I don’t think I would mind.”
Nie Huaisang stiffened at their tones. He didn’t—he didn’t like this, not at all. He swallowed thickly, and then said in a voice as calm as he could manage, “If you do anything to me, Da-ge won’t let you off easily.”
“Do you think we’ll be that easy to find?” one scoffed. “Forget it—the moment we get that money, we’re gone.”
“Wait, hold on. I have my pollen here.” Another gave a lecherous grin and stood from his chair, and Nie Huaisang stood to his feet, back still pressed against the wall. “By the end of it, he’ll be begging for it. Or he’ll die.”
Nie Huaisang’s heart stopped for a moment, before resuming as a thunderous drumbeat in his chest.
“He’d better not die.”
“He won’t! I can tell—he’s soft. Soft and pretty, you won’t give us any trouble, will you?”
Nie Huaisang tried to steady the trembling in his core, and he shifted his feet to try to do something—but then another of the men grabbed him before he could try, since his attention had been on the first.
Another rag was shoved in Nie Huaisang’s face, and he tried even harder to get away than he had the first time. These men had nothing but bad intentions for him, and Nie Huaisang had heard rumors of certain plants which could make someone desperate for someone, anyone, to touch them and fix the burning deep inside. This was even more dangerous than he’d thought—a true matter of life or death.
Still, no matter how he resisted, he couldn’t help but accidentally breathe some of the trecherous pollen in. And then once the rag was put away, Nie Huaisang was in a true fight to protect himself, possibly at the expense of his life.
He didn’t know what to do. He was simply moving on instinct, wholeheartedly rejecting the idea that someone other than his husband would touch him, let alone these scumbags.
So despite the dire circumstances, Nie Huaisang fought them all as best he could, kicking and scratching and biting and spitting at them. Even while he tore at them and shoved them away, his body heated up, his core starting to burn unpleasantly deep inside of him. Thanks to an overabundance of hands, Nie Huaisang’s clothes got torn quickly, his beautiful robes thrashed to ribbons barely clinging to him, despite his best efforts.
His breaths... grew shallower, harder to manage, and his body grew weak. As much as Nie Huaisang hated to admit it, loathed it to his very core, he couldn't afford the strength to fight both the pollen and his captors anymore. Perhaps if his core were stronger... but it wasn’t. It just wasn’t.
Nie Huaisang took as deep a breath as he could, and stilled. He had to endure those disgusting hands touching him, holding him down and pawing at him, and nausea rose in him sharp and acrid.
His only blessing came when his senses began to fail, when his sight and hearing started to fuzz, to fade and flicker as his body began to shut down nonessential functions to use all available energy to fight the pollen in him trying to kill him. At least he couldn’t see their lecherous faces or hear their jeers clearly anymore.
He didn’t want this—he hated this. He wanted to live, but—
Nie Huaisang wanted his da-ge.
Suddenly, in an instant, all of the handprints searing into him disappeared, and Nie Huaisang could just barely make out the sounds of a fight and fast-moving shapes in his vision. Everything was a blur, and he had no idea what was actually going on. Were they fighting amongst themselves, to see who got to use Nie Huaisang first?
But Nie Huaisang couldn’t afford to worry about what was going on around him for very long. He had to focus on what was going on inside him.
As much as he hated it, he could not wait any longer to orgasm or his life really would be in danger. So, without another thought given to the chaos around him, he reached down into his torn, mostly-removed robes and began to stroke his cock with a frenzied pace. No matter what, he had to get out of this alive.
He had to return to his husband, his lover, his life. Even if he had to do it with his own hands, somehow.
To help his pleasure build quickly, Nie Huaisang thought of his da-ge's hands, fingers pressing into his mouth and guiding his own hand around his cock. The pollen raged inside, making his body hot and sensitive. It took only a few strokes and he was already on the edge, his toes curling and his eyes squeezing shut instinctively.
Nie Huaisang groaned as white spots burst behind his eyes. “Da-ge!”
The pleasure crested and subsided in him, then burst again, the pollen in him affecting him so strongly. His chest heaved as he kept going, working harder as the sounds of—yes, it was some sort of conflict, a battle—became clearer to his ears.
And then... it all stopped, the noise. The silence was stark in contrast, and then a moment later there was a duo of heavy thuds against the ground.
Nie Huaisang tensed sharply when massive, warm, wet hands wrapped around his waist and pulled him across the floor toward the owner of said hands.
“It's okay, Da-ge's here. Sang'er—” Nie Mingjue said as a relieved sob left Nie Huaisang's mouth—“Da-ge's here. What did they do to you?”
It took a moment, but Nie Mingjue seemed to come to the right conclusion all on his own, as Nie Huaisang whimpered and reached out toward Nie Mingjue’s very blurry shape. Nie Mingjue growled angrily, taking ownership of Nie Huaisang's cock in a moment and playing Nie Huaisang better than he ever could any instrument.
“How dare they—I should have made it hurt more.” Nie Mingjue’s voice grew heavy with emotion, hoarse and rough with unshed tears. “Sang'er, Da-ge's so sorry. This never should have happened.”
Nie Huaisang could hardly even think enough to try to accept Nie Mingjue’s (unecessary) apology. He was only barely hanging on by a thread, babbling nonsense syllables. Three more times, Nie Huaisang reached orgasm under the influence of the pollen and under the steady, efficient tugs from Nie Mingjue's wet hand. Nie Mingjue’s other hand dipped into Nie Huaisang’s ruined robes, caressing and touching his waist, his hip, his back, his chest. Nie Huaisang arched into every touch, fingers scrambling against Nie Mingjue’s robes to try to cling to Nie Mingjue, to bring them closer.
Nie Huaisang was still... he was still a little scared, but less so. His da-ge chased most of his fear right out of the room with pleasure and love, even if they weren’t completely out of danger yet.
Another orgasm wrenched from Nie Huaisang, and his vision began to return. Nie Mingjue’s body swam back into focus, and Nie Huaisang’s gaze darted down to where Nie Mingjue was touching him, to the wetness that felt so good, the grip that was not unlike Nie Mingjue’s ass. With a jolt, he realized that the reason Nie Mingjue's fist felt so warm and wet and welcoming was... the blood.
Crimson stained them both now, bloody handprints and streaks staining Nie Huaisang’s skin and clothes, and Nie Mingjue’s entire self, up to a few streaks on his handsome face. Somewhere within himself, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but to be worried, despite the more pressing issue of his next orgasm fast and inevitably approaching.
“Da-ge, is that your—uhnn...” White striped the red on Nie Huaisang's generous belly as his eyes rolled back in his head.
Nie Mingjue understood what Nie Huaisang meant anyway, the connection between their hearts branching the gap. “It's not my blood, didi.” Nie Mingjue's big body hovered over Nie Huaisang, before pressing up against him and kissing Nie Huaisang as he milked him further. “They were weak—foolish to think they could keep you from me.”
Nie Huaisang whimpered as his hips bucked. He managed to lift his arms enough to put them around Nie Mingjue's neck and hold him again.
“Da-ge saved me again.”
“I will always save my Nie-furen,” Nie Mingjue growled. After a moment, Nie Mingjue began to rut against Nie Huaisang, but whether he knew about it or not, Nie Huaisang couldn’t tell. “And next time I will save you before they steal the privilege of even a glimpse of you like this.”
“It wasn't really just a glimpse,” Nie Huaisang blurted, and he couldn’t even really force a laugh. He had been scared, and he was not afraid to admit that. Not to Nie Mingjue, his husband. “They didn't get far, but—”
“Sang'er.” Nie Mingjue sounded breathless in a bad way, like he'd been punched in the gut. His hips stilled. “I'm—”
Nie Huaisang shook his head, though his head was light when he did. He was beginning to feel faint again, the invigoration from knowing his husband was the one touching him fading as the pollen left him exhausted in the wake of its expulsion. “Don't, Da-ge. Kiss me a little more, and come. Fast—I might faint.”
The quiet noises Nie Mingjue had allowed himself to make crescendoed as he obeyed, still obviously hesitant but ever receptive to Nie Huaisang's demands. Their lips slid together, slotting perfectly into place, and Nie Huaisang sighed, content for the first time since he’d been snatched away on the way home from the market.
Nie Mingjue rutted against Nie Huaisang in time with his hand, bringing Nie Huaisang higher and making him shiver and shudder again. The feeling of the well-made fabric of Nie Mingjue's robes was rough against his inner thighs, and practically set Nie Huaisang on fire with how sensitive he was. Nie Huaisang’s cock was finally softening in Nie Mingjue's grasp, but Nie Mingjue still kept going, kept wringing the pollen that would have killed Nie Huaisang from his body.
Nie Mingjue groaned and whimpered into Nie Huaisang's mouth, and though Nie Huaisang's head had begun to spin he could have sworn that teardrops pattered onto his cheeks when Nie Mingjue finally seized one last time at the same time as Nie Huaisang, joining him in one orgasm after giving Nie Huaisang so many lifesaving ones.
And then... Nie Huaisang lost consciousness.
*
When Nie Huaisang woke again, he was in his own bed, in his own room, in the Unclean Realm once again. He wore clean sleeping clothes instead of his torn and bloody robes, and sitting on the floor next to his bed was his husband, clinging to his hand and watching him intently with a sorrowful look on his face. Exhaustion ran riot through his body, but Nie Huaisang forced his face to cooperate and construct a reassuring smile. He bent down, kissing Nie Mingjue where their hands were connected.
“Good morning, Da-ge. Would you braid my hair for me?”
Nie Mingjue hummed a little uncertainly, but Nie Huaisang took it as an affirmation all the same. If Nie Mingjue was sitting by his bedside for him to wake up like this, then surely he could spare his hands for a little longer to settle the slight tremble in Nie Huaisang’s own.
Nie Huaisang scooted himself to the edge of the bed, but when he tried to stand, he stumbled a little bit. His legs shook with exhaustion, and it was only because Nie Mingjue was there to catch him that he didn’t fall. Nie Huaisang ended up wrapped up in Nie Mingjue’s arms, and his heart squeezed pleasantly in his chest.
“Maybe we should just do it on the bed,” Nie Huaisang suggested, reaching up and grabbing the nape of Nie Mingjue’s neck so that he could kiss Nie Mingjue’s cheek, too. He wanted—well, he didn’t completely know what, but he wanted Nie Mingjue to feel better.
Nie Huaisang didn’t blame Nie Mingjue for what had happened—how could he? Neither of them had expected it. And if he thought about it for more than a few moments, really reached inside himself, he wasn’t too terribly affected by most of it. The part that stuck in his mind the most was Nie Mingjue, as usual. He did wish that he had been able to see Nie Mingjue take care of his assailants, but it was what it was.
It was over. He just wanted to get back to his happy married life.
But Nie Mingjue was likely going to struggle with that more than Nie Huaisang—the shattered illusion of the fragile post-jianghu-war peace, combined with the what-ifs and the guilt surrounding Nie Mingjue’s inability to come along to the market the day before. Nie Huaisang’s husband was a man who tried to shoulder all of the burden by himself, after all, even when Nie Huaisang was offering his as well for support.
Nie Mingjue lifted Nie Huaisang back up to the bed, and Nie Huaisang squeezed Nie Mingjue’s hand as he stood up, before he pulled away to retrieve the ties and pins he would set Nie Huaisang’s intricate braids with, along with one of Nie Huaisang’s nice cherrywood combs.
Nie Huaisang sighed happily as Nie Mingjue settled gingerly behind him. It wasn’t terribly often that Nie Mingjue could afford a morning like this, and he did want to be close to Nie Mingjue after what had happened. They both needed the tender intimacy, he thought, to restore a balance to both of them before they could go about their lives again.
They settled in their silence for a while, with Nie Huaisang enjoying the sensation of the comb over his scalp as Nie Mingjue teased out any snarls. After that, Nie Mingjue’s clumsy fingers began their attempt to tie Nie Huaisang’s braids, gently scratching against Nie Huaisang’s head each time he gathered up a little more hair to braid. Nie Huaisang knew already that aesthetically, they wouldn’t be the most perfect braids to exist.
But that was more than fine. It wasn’t the point of this at all.
Half an incense time into their silence, Nie Mingjue finally cracked so that Nie Huaisang could try to patch them both up again. His hands shook a little, and Nie Huaisang knew what was coming—he was so in tune with Nie Mingjue that he had probably known what Nie Mingjue would say before Nie Mingjue did.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, Da-ge.” Nie Huaisang reached up to place his hands over Nie Mingjue’s, stilling them to punctuate the gravity of his statement. “Thanks to you, yesterday only feels like it was a bad dream. The worst part about it in the end is that I think they sold off everything that I bought yesterday. I was...” Nie Huaisang swallowed, treading lightly because he knew how each of his own words was cherished and held deeply by his brother. “I was really scared, at the time, but you saved me. And that was the end of it.”
Finally, Nie Huaisang let go of Nie Mingjue’s hands, and after a few moments where they moved stiffly, Nie Mingjue’s hands returned to carefully braiding Nie Huaisang’s hair up into the style he favored.
“I can buy you more things.” Nie Mingjue’s voice was low, still too tense for Nie Huaisang’s liking. “If you want to pick out your own, you can go with me or Zonghui. Not... not alone.”
Nie Huaisang knew that this was one fight that he didn’t really want to start, let alone win—at least for now. Eventually, Nie Huaisang suspected, he would tire of having a chaperone, but for now he would be grateful for a pair of eyes looking out for his own wellbeing. “Well, I certainly won’t say no if Da-ge offers me a trip together. Will my husband buy me nice things?”
Nie Mingjue pinned the last braid in place, and when he was done he leaned down and rested his face against his handiwork, breathing in the scent of Nie Huaisang’s hair. “Anything you want, Sang’er.”
“Anything?” Nie Huaisang asked, in a knowing and a little bit of a flirty tone, but then he ruined his own teasing by asking for what he really wanted. “Will you sit with me in the garden, this evening? Can you spare the time? I want to show you the place I thought would be nice for the aviary.”
“I’ll make time; I don’t care if I have to reject the emperor’s summons himself for it.”
Nie Huaisang tugged Nie Mingjue’s hands forward, and then around Nie Huaisang’s body so that they were hugging. He scooted himself back a little bit, to make their position one of ease, and then he leaned into Nie Mingjue’s chest, resting against the solidity of his da-ge’s body.
“If it’s that serious, I’ll agree to push it off to tomorrow, Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang huffed out the smallest of laughs. “But anything less and your Sang’er will be annoyed. I’ve been spoiled rotten, I’m afraid.”
Nie Mingjue was silent, even though Nie Huaisang thought perhaps he should have quipped back. Nie Huaisang squeezed one of Nie Mingjue’s hands, and in return Nie Mingjue squeezed Nie Huaisang’s entire body. It felt even nicer than Nie Huaisang could say out loud—these were the hands he wanted on him, always. Big hands, calloused hands, tender and gentle and sweet.
“Are you really alright?” Nie Mingjue’s voice was quiet, running deep next to Nie Huaisang’s ear.
It felt different, with their back and front glued together and with Nie Mingjue’s breath hot against Nie Huaisang’s skin. Nie Huaisang couldn’t help his own minute shiver.
“Da-ge, if you say things like that I’ll have to ask for more!”
“When I said anything, I meant anything, Sang’er.” Chapped lips scraped below the shell of Nie Huaisang’s ear. “If you’re not alright, then I’ll stay. As long as you need me.”
“Then I always need you, Husband,” Nie Huaisang teased. “No more meetings or night hunts or banquets; you’re only allowed to stay here in bed with me forever.”
“Sang’er.” Nie Mingjue squeezed Nie Huaisang even tighter, his voice a little tense, and Nie Huaisang really felt like a child’s doll with how close he was being held.
“It was worth a try. Da-ge, I’m really fine, it’s just...” Nie Huaisang trailed off, faking gravity.
Nie Mingjue made a questioning noise.
“Well, I’m not sure if all of the pollen’s gone. Maybe Nie-zongzhu should stay a little bit this morning and assist this helpless Nie-furen?”
Finally, preciously, a small laugh huffed its way out from between Nie Mingjue’s lips, and with it any remaining tension in Nie Huaisang’s body melted away. He was a puddle in Nie Mingjue’s arms, not feeling uncomplicately happy, but comfortable. Safe.
His da-ge was here. His husband was here.
And everything would be fine.