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The last couple of days had really left him at a little loss.
With the whole matter of the Wind master put aside, and now Qirong having ran off with Guzi, Hua Cheng still in Ghost city, Xie Lian had reverted back to where he had begun from. Puqi Shrine was unbearably quiet, and he attended to the few prayers of the villagers to distract himself.
But really, how could he?
Xie Lian had gone eight hundred whole years, abstaining from wants and desires. It was impossible to expect him to be completely nonchalant after…well, the whole thing at Qiandeng Temple.
He already felt incredibly guilty and horrible for taking advantage of the situation. How could he possibly explain to Hua Cheng what he’d done? Regardless of intention, he’d been so shameless. Hua Cheng’s actions can be excused; he wasn’t in the right state of mind.
Xie Lian could still remember the desperation in his voice, in his touch, as he held on tight to him. As he all but begged him to not leave. It made his heart twist just thinking of it and…
I have a beloved. I just haven’t won them over yet.
Xie Lian sighed, crouched down against a wall, burying his face in his arms.
How despicable.
But he couldn’t control the ways of his heart. So treacherous, even now. Hua Cheng had been so kind to him, so good to him. So utterly helpful−even staying in the village, spending days under a sun he did not like, in weathers he probably hated to brave and in a shrine so abysmally small compared to the other’s abode all for his sake.
Then why, oh why, did Xie Lian’s selfishness grow to such heights? That he was so willing to want to claim not only the other’s time and effort, but his affections too? Perhaps it was the ride in the sedan chair−the flippant question, the subsequent admission. It was like someone had forced him to down a vial of bitter vinegar, letting it swirl on his taste buds until it burned the taste of the other right off.
Xie Lian curled his fingers into his arms, digging the skin harshly. He wanted the pain to snap him out of it. To stop letting his mind connecting dots it didn’t need to. Xie Lian had merely been starved of attention, you see. He’s just−he’s just throwing himself to the first person that deemed him worthy, right?
And besides, what was there to him anyways? A failed, miserable and banished god that prays to himself, with meager help needed. Collecting scraps off dirty grounds and robes stitched poorly together, clothes akin to rags in front of Hua Cheng’s impeccable attire. His gaudy hair, his stick-like limbs and no fullness to his cheeks to even bring the slightest brightness to his face like it once did.
Hua Cheng was…he was incredibly charming. He had an eloquent way of speaking, of saying the right things at the right time. He had incredible power, and he knew exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it. He was confident, beautiful and impossibly kind and…
And his beloved must be someone, who could equally match that. As selfish as Xie Lian’s desires are, he wants nothing more for Hua Cheng to be happy. To be with someone he deserves. So then why could his heart and mind not become one and let this go? Why did the thought of someone else sharing Hua Cheng’s days, like he did with Xie Lian, burn at his core so viciously?
He couldn’t take it.
The moon was still alight outside. Perhaps a walk would be able to clear his head.
Delving into the forests, he’d tripped and rolled down and fallen right at the edges of a clearing against the outskirts of Puqi village. Xie Lian dusted himself off, Ruoye snuggling against the bruises on his arm. He was barely fazed himself. Instead he took the opportunity to look around, stepping out. His eyes widened, as he took in the gorgeous scenery before him in.
There was a small lake, right in the centre. A serene body of water that reflected the moons and stars like pearls amidst the ocean floor. The crowding of trees and their gently swaying branches painted a rhythm in the air that he could not help but feel drawn too, the ripple of the wind a constant little break in the illusion that was the reflection of the sky in the waters.
He would normally take a seat and admire the view, but something caught his attention.
Little wounded whimpers, and an aura of dark energy. Xie Lian braced himself, Ruoye ready under his sleeves, as he walked towards the source of the sound. He kept his footsteps light, barely making a sound, as he approached as cautiously as he could.
Of course, when was luck on his side?
A twig snapped underneath his foot, and alerted the creature immediately. A harsh cry, and agitated grunt, and a loud thump as whatever it was landed on the ground heavily. Xie Lian rushed forward, not wanting it to escape to the village, and then paused.
Right there, wrapped tight in a net and looking utterly miserable, was a water spirit.
Her skin had a tinge of blue, eyes a silvery gray. A dusting of silver iridescent scales near the skin of her eyes and cheeks, her clothes a cerulean blue and white. Xie Lian immediately dropped his apprehension, sighing as he crouched down.
By the looks of it, this water spirit was still young; maybe about a hundred or two years old. She still had none of the defining scales on her arms and legs, and her hair looked normal; dark and long, all tangled in her tussle. Seeing him, and perhaps sensing something, she immediately let out a wretched cry, eyes welling up. “Please stay calm,” Xie Lian soothed, raising his hands as he showed her his lack of weapons, “I don’t want to harm you.”
“How can I trust you?” she spat, “all you cultivators are the same! Can I not even live in my own home?”
So this lake was actually her home. Xie Lian quickly understood the situation−a few young cultivators might have heard of some activity around here. Eager for a reward, they haphazardly set traps all around, not caring if whatever they caught was even evil in the first place. “Of course you can,” he kept his voice gentle, a smile on his lips, as he picked up a sharp rock. Sitting next to her, he started cutting through the net, Ruoye helping as he slashed through the other side.
As soon as the net came loose, Xie Lian did not step away, showing her he had no thoughts of either harming her, or being harmed. With this level of cultivation she had, she was no match for him anyways. The water spirit sat up, looking extremely vexed as she fixed her head and sat by the lake. Dipping her legs in, she swung them back and forth, the small cuts she had gotten all slowly healing now that she was in her home base.
“Thank you,” she said, hands clasped in her lap, “I guess there’s still people with goodness left in them.”
Xie Lian smiled, taking a seat at the bank, keeping a respectable distance in between them. “The world is a vast place,” he said, staring up at the moon, “it would be too much, to paint everyone with the same brush.”
The words resonated with the water spirit; after all, hadn’t she suffered because of the same sentiment? All spirits, ghosts and demons were evil; irredeemable, and not worthy of life. She clutched her hands tightly, feeling even more grateful. If the other had not come, what would have become of her?
“Is there anything I can do for daozhang?” she asked. Xie Lian merely shook his head.
“I didn’t do much; if anything, it was my duty to help you. Miss…”
“Yining.”
“Miss Yining,” he inclined his head towards her, “please rest easy. I won’t disturb you; I merely wanted to clear my head. Unless, if miss feels uncomfortable, I can go elsewhere.”
“No, no, you can sit,” she said, fast, “I don’t mind. I like visitors. It’s mostly small kids from the village. They’re very stupid and entertaining.” Xie Lian laughed at that. Yining smiled. “If not anything else, perhaps I can lend an ear to daozhang? Water spirits are well-versed in the realm of emotions, you see.”
That he knew all too well. He once encountered one that had got so scared she cried and caused a flood. It was a funny memory. Xie Lian stared at his drab reflection in the water, the unkempt nature of his appearance. It pricked his heart, though he tried not to show, masking it with a smile like he was always used to.
Xie Lian picked at his sleeves instead, staring down at his palms. He didn’t like looking at his reflection anyways. “I’m afraid it’s not a simple fight or bout of emotion; I wouldn’t want to trouble you Miss Yining.”
Yining stared at him, reading him like an open book. To humans, this type of person was very hard and exhausting to read. To water spirits like her? These were most easy. They hid their feelings in their little quirks, and tried so hard to suppress their emotions that the air overflowed and spilled all of it out in the open, stifled away from being expressed and having nowhere to go. She could taste the waves of dissatisfaction and something bitter, deciding to probe around. “Why would daozhang say such a thing? Perhaps I may not offer advice, but I can surely give my two cents or comfort. All burdens are made easier when you have someone to share them with.”
Xie Lian immediately thought of a playful smile, dark eye and wild unbound hair. Thought of crimson robes, a ribbon tight around a finger, and an unending patience as he tilted his head and listened and listened.
He could not help but want to curl in to himself. Just a few days−and how he missed Hua Cheng already. Xie Lian could only find truth in the other’s words; ever since the other had come to his life, it somehow made everything easier. Nothing in Xie Lian’s routine particularly changed, despite his ascension. Except for missions being added in the mix, his terrible luck and simple ambitions remained.
And yet, somehow, the weight of all of them seemed like such a doable and imaginary thing. How days and days passed, he hadn’t even realized.
But Hua Cheng had a beloved.
Surely, one day, he would leave his side. He would leave and try to win them over persistently, spend his time with them and cherish them deeply. Hua Cheng was a person who valued these things−it was clear, from the way he treated Xie Lian.
But the thought of someone else on the receiving end of such care made his chest burn, fiery and hot. “It is just…” he found himself saying, skin heating from shame, “my entitlement to wanting something I have no right in asking.”
Such a roundabout answer−the water spirit’s eyes gleamed. Yining knew these types of diversions all too well; these gentle and pure daoists, always plagued with love trials they never realized they were experiencing. “As daozhang said, the world is vast, and all living things carry their own greed and desires. Is it a friend that is troubling you, daozhang?”
“Troubling is not it at all,” he laughed, drawing his knees up to his chin, thinking of Hua Cheng’s gentle and deep voice, following him around, his calls of ‘gege’ that trailed after him like a cape of irrevocable warmth. He stared down at his hand, heart stirring as he recalled the way Hua Cheng’s had overshadowed it completely, pressing it against the jade table. “If anything, he is more troubled being by my side. I do not have good luck at all, but he had never complained, no matter the situation. Instead, he tried to look out for me instead,” Xie Lian smiled, recalling their interactions. Unbeknownst to him, his face had lit up considerably, cheeks flushing and eyes alight with the brightness of his memories, a simmering flame of life in them as he spoke.
Something of the sight, brought out Xie Lian’s fair qualities to the surface in Yining’s eyes. Underneath that shabby attire, this man was extremely handsome and sweet-looking. What they say must be true: love changed a person. “Then did daozhang have a fight?”
“Oh no, nothing of the sort,” he said, softly. Biting the inside of his cheek, and nearly reaching inside his robes to toy with the ring around his neck. Would Hua Cheng ask for it back one day? Perhaps to give it to his beloved instead?
Xie Lian’s mood plummeted, recalling the day in the sedan, and Hua Cheng’s question. The way he’d brushed it all off.
The same way he’ll brush you off, bit by bit. Like fallen petals of a flower withered; unneeded, and unwanted.
“If anything I…I got ahead of myself, you see. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a close friend, but of course, no one’s dropping their life for another, haha…”
But he did not feel cheery at all.
Gege, let’s get married.
Xie Lian is so embarrassed. He can barely keep his eyes above his folded arms, flaming bright, the tips of his ears feeling hot. How his heart had leapt−
Just joking.
And crushed itself. “He has his own life,” Xie Lian spoke softly, resignation evident in his tone, “he’s such an amazing person. He’ll build his own life with someone else, one day, of course. As he deserves to. I would never let him get robbed of a chance like that again.”
“Again?”
Xie Lian hummed, staring at the moon in the waters. “In a way, it’s his second chance at life. He must have been through so much, and he’s amassed so much power. He of all people, deserves to settle and find a home; in a companion, worthy of him.”
Yining blinked. Second chance at life…”Oh,” she said, “so he’s a ghost? Already died once, did he?”
Immediately, she knew that was the wrong thing to say.
Xie Lian’s expression darkened. “Yes well−you don’t have to put it like that. He’s still living.”
Yining did not say how that was a contradictory statement in regards to a ghost. Instead, she circled around the topic to where she wanted, even giddier deep down seeing the other’s protective nature. He’s in deep. “Daozhang, it’s so clear to me you two care so much about one another. Life is fleeting; why live in regrets? Even if he moves on later, doesn’t he deserve to know how you feel?”
How I feel? Xie Lian was confused. Was he some sort of maiden to be rushing forward to confess? How pathetic would that be! He needed to have some face in front of Hua Cheng!
“Why should I burden him like that?” Xie Lian asked instead, “there is nothing worth staying with, when it comes to me. If anything, I would be the first person to send him away. All I am is a beacon of misfortune, how could I dare ask him to stay, and force him to go through it all?”
Yining’s heart grew heavy. She did not know much about this man. But she felt terribly sympathetic. He was a rare kind soul, and a thoughtful one−humble, from his disposition. And yet he carried such heavy woes, and such self-deprecating thoughts. This would not do. “Don’t put yourself down, daozhang,” she said, “if fate had you meet, doesn’t that mean you had some merit? If he has stayed so long by your side, doesn’t that mean he must see something in you?”
See something in me? But what could he?
“I really do think you should talk to your friend, daozhang. It’s clear a recent incident dredged these feelings. Perhaps talk about how it happened, and tell him truly of how you cherish him. If nothing else, he will be touched by how high you regard him.”
Recent incident. Xie Lian willed away the memories of that night, but they treacherously came back. He was ashamed to admit he’d even dreamt of their interaction once, blaming it on the sudden loneliness and quietude. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Yining sighed. She reached a hand in the water, and drew out a bottle. The liquid in it was crystal clear, and it didn’t emit any malicious energy. Xie Lian took it with curiosity. “Your relationship touches my heart, daozhang. I must repay your kindness; please accept this. It is a potion of courage−even if everything goes wrong, you can blame it on this and it will be a story to look back and laugh at. But say what you need to,” she insisted, meeting his gaze, “you might be surprised with what you find out.”
Xie Lian thanked her, talking a bit more before he started his way back to the shrine. He didn’t intend to drink it−after all, it was a silly idea−but he kept it nonetheless.
It was when he was back, that he saw a sight that had him stop in surprise.
Hua Cheng was raking the leaves at the front of the shrine that had piled high, Xie Lian too busy in the afternoon to bother with it. The old man a few houses down had slipped and injured his back, and he’d been helping thatch his roof, getting a whole pot of cherry wine as a gift. Seeing him so eager, he couldn’t turn it down; so he’d quietly accepted it, and thought of offering it to Hua Cheng instead.
He was in the form of a young boy again, and the mere sight of him made his heart do a flip. Xie Lian couldn’t help the way his lips quirked, spirits lifting. “San Lang!”
The other looked up, mirroring his smile. Xie Lian stepped closer, noticing a stray leaf on the other’s head. “Gege,” he said, sweet, but a slight apprehension in his eyes. Right. Xie Lian had been very suspicious the last time they parted. “What happened?” He cast a look over him, “did gege get hurt?”
“Oh it’s nothing,” he brushed off, instead pushing himself on his toes to reach up and pick out the leaf from the other’s hair. Hua Cheng, misunderstanding, leaned into his hand like a docile cat. Xie Lian melted−he really couldn’t keep a strong front in front of him, could he? He carded Hua Cheng’s hair back, tucking it against his ear, “you’re here?”
“Hmm, ghost city’s being taken care off,” he said, still not looking satisfied with the answer, “the weather’s getting colder, gege. You shouldn’t be out late. You’re not even wearing a coat.”
That’s because I don’t have one. He shook his head, unable to hold his gaze as he stared down at the pile the other had raked. A sense of self-loathing overcame him; why couldn’t have Xie Lian just done this earlier? Was Hua Cheng some errand boy? His beloved would never dare treat him like this, would they? He pulled the rake out the other’s hand, resting it against the trunk of the tree.
Hua Cheng blinked, not understanding this shift in moods. “I’m sorry gege, I was merely worried.”
“Oh no,” great, now he managed to make the other feel guilty, “no, no, San Lang. You’re right, it is cold.” He frowned, “you should get in too, come on.”
And so they both entered the shrine, and a silence befell them.
It was never like this. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, from the moment they met, never had an air of awkwardness. And now due to his own strange behaviors and thoughts, he was creating it. At this rate, he would be the one to build a distance between them even before the other’s beloved would.
The thought made him so unbearably upset, his cheek heat up. “Sit, San Lang,” he said gently, not facing him as he dusted off his robes. “I’ll cook us some dinner, hmm?”
“How about gege clean up first?” Hua Cheng suggested. He saw the few vegetables the villagers had dropped off, gaze softening, “I’ll start with washing and cutting it up. Gege must have been hard at work today.”
“Oh you don’t have to…” he said, reaching a hand forward for the knife, except it was stopped by a hand on his, cool to the touch. Just merely the sight of them together had his heart racing, mind clouded with thoughts of that fateful night, and Hua Cheng’s unescapable grip. He was standing so close; too close.
“I want to,” he said, quiet. Voice a whisper skimming the surfaces of his consciences, and somehow dispelling all these heavy feelings. He glanced back and up at the other, the dance of the flames in the corner of the shrine reflected like embers in Hua Cheng’s dark eyes. They carried an intensity within them, searching. But Xie Lian had grown accustomed to masking−it was too easy, to wear a smile and act like everything was fine. He merely conceded, drawing his hand back, and looking away.
“If San Lang doesn’t mind, I’d be thankful.”
It seemed like Hua Cheng was studying him. “Should I warm up water for gege?”
“Oh no,” he laughed, a little fond. Really, how could Xie Lian not find himself attached when the other was so thoughtful? So caring? It was only…natural, yes? That he wished this care would be solely and solely on him, and no one else. It wasn’t anything else. “I’ll do that on my own. But thank you, San Lang.”
The other hummed and Xie Lian headed out to gather water in a basin.
After taking a small bath at the back of the shrine and changing into the only other pair of robes he had, he dried his hair, wrapping his bandages around his neck and ankle, and Ruoye snuggling against his chest to keep him warm. The ring was safely nestled over his heart, and Xie Lian stared at it for a moment, before hiding it so well the other would not notice.
(Would not see, so he could not remember he’d given him something at all. That way, it would only and only remain Xie Lian’s, and no one else’s.)
He stepped back in the shrine, only to find Hua Cheng at the stove, already having started cooking. The aroma was decadent, and he couldn’t help but approach behind him, peeking over his wide shoulders to sneak a glance, only to be met with the other’s playful gaze. Despite the cool of his body, Hua Cheng emitted such warmth, it wrapped around him like cocoon. “Why is San Lang troubling himself?”
“I couldn’t be with gege these past few days; it must have been a lot of work, no? So just rest back tonight−I’ve missed gege’s cooking too, so I’d love to have it from tomorrow.”
Xie Lian’s heart turned into a pitiable puddle. “Ah,” he said, touched as he shied away from the sincerity in the other’s gaze, “is that so? Then I’ll have to really think up a good dish.” Licking his lips, and fiddling with his fingers, he finally asked, “but how is everything, San Lang? You’re okay, right?”
“En,” Hua Cheng reassured, “gege must have really bared the brunt of our fight; I was perfectly fine after you left. The city was in a bit of a mess, but everything slowly came in place.”
At the mention of their fight, Xie Lian could tell the other wanted more details. But he was so embarrassed he would die if he just said what he did, so he kept quiet.
The vial in his clothes, kept tucked away, felt all the more omnipotent. Should I…? He internally shook his head. “It’s only right I help San Lang, with how much he helps me.”
Hua Cheng did not say more, but it seemed like he wanted to. Instead, they sat and ate the food, which was quite good. The other reveled under the praise, so adorable with his eyes all bright, he’d almost forgotten all of it entirely.
Almost.
“Say San Lang,” he asked, as they washed the dishes side by side. “This beloved of yours.”
“…yes, gege?”
“Have you told them yet?”
His heart beat resounded loudly in his chest, imperceptibly slowed to a standstill as he awaited the answer with bated breath.
“Not yet,” Hua Cheng said, but his voice had grown quieter.
“Oh,” Xie Lian hated the way his emotions surged at the answer. What a horrible person he was becoming. “Why is that?”
“I’m just not sure if they’d like me.”
That, had him stopping. Hua Cheng merely picked up the plate Xie Lian was about to wash and started washing it himself. Xie Lian, on the other hand, felt an immense burst of anger. “Why wouldn’t they?” his question came out a little demanding, surprising them both. Hua Cheng blinked, setting the cleaned dishes away, as he regarded him.
“There are many reasons, gege,” he said, slowly. But Xie Lian did not want to listen to any of them.
“All people have their faults,” he said, instead, looking at the other, “no one is perfect, San Lang. But who wouldn’t be honored to have you? Your good far outweighs the bad. I don’t think this person is very good if they carry a bad opinion of San Lang.”
Hua Cheng crossed his arms, studying him. For some reason, the corners of his lips looked as though they were turned up the slightest bit in amusement. “Is that so, gege?”
Xie Lian nodded his head, “don’t settle for someone who doesn’t see the worth in you, San Lang. You should know how valuable you are. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Hua Cheng’s gaze felt hot, for a second. A smoldering feeling like the inkiness of his irises were melting away the very essence of him on the spot, dissolving Xie Lian in their depths and coveting him as theirs. “I’m honored gege thinks so,” he said, “but as gege said, no one is perfect. Isn’t natural to have some fears when you like someone?”
Xie Lian made to say something, except he wholly agreed.
Wasn’t Xie Lian the same? Not saying all these things precisely because of how much he adored the other? He could only agree without a word, suddenly busy as he headed over to the pot he kept. “San Lang, take this when you go back.”
“What is it?”
“Some cherry wine,” he said, opening the lid as he set it on the small table in the shrine. His heart crumpled in on itself. Xie Lian suddenly felt a confusing urge to cry. He didn’t understand.
Isn’t it natural to have some fears when you like someone?
How much must Hua Cheng like this person, then? He would probably offer this wine and share the first sips, keeping his feelings hidden as they made a new memory together.
Xie Lian blurted the words before he could think: “I was thinking we could have a taste first.”
For a moment, none of them spoke. Silence so deafening, you’d hear a pin drop.
Then, slowly, “does gege mean he wants to have a drink together? Or I take a taste to see it’s to my liking?”
Xie Lian could have opted for an easy way out. Yet his clouded mind only decided to be stubborn. “I don’t drink so…I had thought, since it’s sweet, we could have a try. But umm, you’re right, its better if you−“
“If gege wants to have a try, then he should. A little indulgence never hurt anyone. I’m here to take care of gege if anything happens, anyways.”
Hua Cheng’s words were so self-assured, he was a little taken aback. His earlier annoyance at himself melted away with these words, a happy hum in the centre of his being. He wouldn’t drink much−nothing more than a few careful sips. They both sat against the table, Xie Lian closing the window as the chill started to creep in.
With only the flickering flames of the candles lit about, both of them sat illuminated by the warm glows of it. Hua Cheng opened the lid, the aroma flitting and colouring the mood sweeter. Despite himself, Xie Lian perked up as the other carefully poured the wine with a ladle into small cups, the size of their palms. He gave one to Xie Lian first, before taking one for himself.
They both raised their cups to the other, before taking a taste. The sweetness and scent of ripe cherries coated his tongue, and a nostalgic pull to the memories of the trees in XianLe panged in him. But raising his gaze, and finding Hua Cheng’s eager ones watching him carefully, he felt it all slip away.
This was a new memory, to cherish instead. “Did gege like it?”
“En,” he said, smiling, “I did. It’s nice and sweet. How about San Lang?”
“Gege enjoyed it so well, there’s no way I couldn’t have either,” he said, resting his face on his palm, elbow on the table. The words made his skin colour, the wine already taking effect as the heat in his being simmered the slightest. Xie Lian could not handle any alcohol−and very distant memories had him fearing the way his emotional side might rear its ugly head. So he only took two more sips before setting it away.
Hua Cheng drank a bit more, appreciative of the taste, a lazy assurance in his posture as he talked, fingers running around the rim of the cup, watching him. Xie Lian loved to talk to him; but he loved hearing the other speak too. Hua Cheng had seen so much of different kingdoms, of different places, of different lives in ghost city. How could his words be anything short of interesting?
The time was so well-spent, that before he knew it, the flames slowly died out. Xie Lian let out a surprised gasp by the fact he didn’t even notice. “Gege sit down,” Hua Cheng said gently, as the flames flickered back to life with the other’s wave of a hand. “It’s okay. Unless you’d like to sleep…?”
“Of course not,” he shook his head, so at ease with the other around. “Since it’s only the two of us, you can shift to your real form too. I don’t want San Lang to hide away in front of me.”
The other’s eyes flitted with deep emotion, and within a second, Hua Cheng was back as he always knew him. His long dark hair cascading down his back, hair braided with the red bead, and an eye patch hiding his right eye.
Looking at him now, brought back memories of that night. Sudden, as they assaulted him like little pinches and teases to skin, until it was all red and fussed over. Xie Lian’s heart beat picked pace, as he placed his hand along the small bench, his robes at the side folded to be washed nudged, a cool vial rolling against his hand.
And suddenly, it was like someone shattered the rose-tinted view in front of him with a push of their fingers. Hua Cheng was speaking, but Xie Lian’s mind was running in circles.
Once he leaves, how would I be?
Xie Lian had kept himself so alone. He was terrified misfortune would fall on anyone that dared associate with him. But Hua Cheng’s luck overpowered his own lack of it, and every obstacle that would drive anyone else away was so easily dimissable for the other.
Would Xie Lian ever find someone like this?
No, he wouldn’t. Who would even want to? No one in the heavenly court cared much for him, and a friend he found in Shi Qingxuan, he wasn’t even sure if they’d meet like before after this. Hua Cheng brought with him a vibrancy his pale hands and washed out robes lacked, brought with him a companionship his solitude wanted so desperately to hold.
Xie Lian felt sick to his stomach.
I have a beloved.
And yet he could feel the other’s touch all over him. Feel him cling on and despair at the prospect of Xie Lian leaving. Feel his lips against his, finding a solace in a place other people would rather spit at and leave.
I haven’t won them over yet.
“Gege?”
“Hmm?” he glanced up at the other, and Hua Cheng looked a little worried.
“Is gege feeling fine? You don’t drink, so it must be getting to you. I’ll get you some water.” The other stood up before he could speak, and Xie Lian stared at his back, the simple red robes he’d chosen to wear, to match this humble abode.
Xie Lian could only blame the wine. He reached in and pulled out the vial, drinking the contents and immediately putting it away. He stared down resolutely at the table, the white hot feeling as the words came back to him surging in full force.
He knew what it was.
But he didn’t dare name it.
Jealousy.
Why couldn’t Hua Cheng have not fallen for anyone at all?
“Gege,” Hua Cheng said, taking a seat next to him as he offered him the glass. Xie Lian drank, but he could not wash down the ugly emotion in his chest. “Gege?”
“This beloved of yours,” he said, his breath carrying the scent of sweet wine, intoxication spreading in his veins. It wasn’t just the cherries−meeting Hua Cheng’s eyes, it was this very man beside him, too. “How does he look?”
Hua Cheng seemed surprised at this question. “Very beautiful.”
He felt so vexed he wanted to choke something. Perhaps himself. “Is that so?” he mused, letting the shameless nature of the potion overtake him, “but many people are beautiful. I’m a little embarrassed to admit, but at the height of my fame as prince, many people regarded me so, too.”
“Oh?” Hua Cheng’s smile turned amused. Xie nodded, serious.
“So I’m just checking. I mean you’ve seen me, how I am now. It’s just subjective, I supposed.”
Hua Cheng frowned, not following. “Gege is still very beautiful,” he said, soft, somehow annoyed at the notion Xie Lian didn’t think the same. His frown grew deeper when Xie Lian did not seem like he believed him one bit. “Gege knows I wouldn’t lie.”
He shrugged. Did he? Hua Cheng was so nice. Would he ever say something bad about him? “But your beloved is probably even more so, in your eyes,” Xie Lian continued, not noticing the complicated expression on the other’s face. “Aren’t they? That’s why they…you’re so worried. But don’t go for looks alone, hmm? Get to know if they’re actually that kind or whatever you had said.”
“I know they are,” Hua Cheng said, resolute. The strength in that statement made his chest burn. Xie Lian hated it so much. “Why is gege asking?”
“I’m−“ he swallowed, “I’m looking out for you. You…you can’t be like how you are to me to just anyone, okay? I have limited power and luck, so I’m powerless anyways, but what if the other person isn’t?”
“I don’t understand this comparison,” Hua Cheng said, looking even more displeased, “gege is nothing but kind-hearted. Even if you did have power and luck, I would not be afraid.”
Why are you saying this? Xie Lian hated the way it made his heart soar and fall flat on cold, hard rock.
“I just do what circumstance needs,” he said, quiet. Suddenly, Xie Lian could see nothing and nothing but faults and flaws in every part of him. “I am not good at all, San Lang. Many people suffered because of me. Maybe people were hurt because of me. I was so−“
He stopped himself. How strong was this courage potion? But the emotions welled up and the wine did not help. Hua Cheng’s expression grew so sad he was too lost in his head to even notice, staring down at the table. Instead, the other took his hand in his.
“Gege is very strong,” he said, his long and elegant fingers, atop Xie Lian’s thin and knobby ones. “Whatever you did, I understand it even if you don’t speak it. If anything, gege deserves most to lash out; he’s suffered so much, without anyone’s help. You’re only human; how much can you give, before you reach your point?”
This was the problem with Hua Cheng. Each and every word of his was so well-crafted for comfort towards him that Xie Lian wanted to lay in his embrace and hear these reassurances for eternity, despite knowing he was undeserving of them. Xie Lian had cost his own parents everything, let alone anyone else.
“San Lang is too good to me.”
“Not at all,” Hua Cheng said, “no, no. Gege is the one that brings it out of me.”
Goodness. He couldn’t take it. Looking back at him, and seeing the unwavering admiration staring back. Knowing it belonged to someone else.
Why can’t I be your beloved?
“San Lang,” he said, as soft as he could, “stop saying these things. You don’t mean them.”
Hua Cheng looked as though he’d struck him. “Gege,” he said, aghast, “of course I do.”
A helpless expression overcame Xie Lian’s face, as he pulled his hand away from the other’s, heartbroken. “You don’t mean them the way I want you to mean them.”
Hua Cheng looked severely confused, and it only tore at him more. “Gege−“
“Who did you think about, when you did all that to me at Qiandeng Temple?”
Hua Cheng’s expression went slack. Xie Lian’s heart was beating so loud. He had said ‘gege’. But how much of the time did he know? Was he imagining his beloved? Was he thinking of them when he proposed to Xie Lian? Is that why he brushed him off? Is that why he offhandedly told him and the villagers−
“Gege,” he’s jolted back to reality by strong hands gripping his arms, faced with a Hua Cheng whose face was set in seriousness. “I need you tell me now, what happened. The truth.”
He added the last part when he saw Xie Lian making to speak.
Even if everything goes wrong, you can blame it on this and it will be a story to look back and laugh at.
He felt his insides twist. “Do you want to know?” he asked, looking at Hua Cheng. A restless feeling crawled all over him. He stood up suddenly and put away the pot of wine, and hid it deep in the small cupboard he made so Hua Cheng could only and only drink it here. So he could make no more memories with it with anyone but him.
The moment he stood and turned around, Hua Cheng was already there, not letting him escape from this. The candle flickered, before it went out. Except for the moonlight twinkling in through the window and coating both of them the slightest bit, there was barely any other light.
But Xie Lian could see him so clearly. “Gege,” a plea crept in the other’s tone, as he neared him so his entire space was only and only Hua Cheng. Xie Lian took one step back, only to find himself against the wall, no place of retreat. “Tell me.”
“How much do you remember?”
“Telling you to leave,” Hua Cheng said, immediately, “that’s all, gege.”
Xie Lian grazed a hand against the other’s cheek. “You chased after me,” the other’s eyes widened, and he met Hua Cheng’s gaze, watching it carefully, “you held me tight in your arms. You told me−you told me you lied. To not leave you alone.”
Sorrow washed over Hua Cheng. “Gege,” he breathed, “I’m so sorry−“
“And I didn’t want to leave you either,” Xie Lian cut in, before the other could make some sort of conclusion. His cheeks flamed. “I could have left but−I didn’t want to, San Lang.”
“Then…?”
“I brought you in, closed the gates because I didn’t want anyone else to take advantage of you when you were vulnerable,” how ironic, considering my own actions, “you were in so much pain. My heart hurt so much.” He cupped Hua Cheng’s face, thumb grazing the skin under his left eye. The other reached up to grab his wrist, leaning into the touch. “It seemed like you were burning alive. So you−“
“I…?”
“You…gave me spiritual energy,” the other’s eye widened, “you kissed me. You…you…”
“Gege…” his eye darkened, “tell me what I did.” It seemed like he was terrified of the answer. As though he wanted Xie Lian to punish him by doing the same thing to him.
But how could any of it be called a punishment? “You pushed me down the jade table, across the calligraphy we wrote,” eyes glazed with the effects of wine and an unbidden fire, fueling himself to go further as his words quieted into whispers for the scandalous situation they described, wanting him to know, to understand, “you held me down, and you poured into me all that restless energy.”
“And then…?”
Was he imaging the way the other’s voice grew deeper? Xie Lian could only slip his gaze down to the other’s lips, remembering how they felt every single time since the first. Remembered the feelings they ignited in him that night, pressed against his in a different desperation altogether. “It was so much, San Lang. I was burning from the power. You have to know, going so long without it, it’s overwhelming. So I pushed you away and headed to the altar, but you followed and−“
“Gege?”
He swallowed. “I couldn’t take it−you were so helpless, and so hurt, and so confused. You didn’t want to hurt me. But you needed me so much. You couldn’t stay away so I…” Xie Lian’s complexion had grown rosy all over from the wine and the blush, painting him like a flower brushed with paint, “forgive me, San Lang. I…took matters in my own hands. I pulled you in my arms, and directed all that energy into myself.”
It was a long while, as they remained quiet. “What did gege mean, when he asked the question right now?”
Xie Lian could only grip the folds of the other’s robe, heart about to break out his chest, staring at the hollow of Hua Cheng’s throat. “I wanted to know,” he raised his eyes to meet the other’s, “if you knew it was me. If you thought I was someone else.”
“What does gege wish, it were?”
He couldn’t lie. “By the heavens,” Xie Lian whispered, noting but raw honestly in his voice, scraping his throat hoarse, “I wish you only thought of me.”
In an instant, Hua Cheng’s lips were on his, Xie Lian pushed against the wall, hands finding purchase against the other’s shoulders. He could only drag in a gasp as the other kissed him, Xie Lian all but melting in his touch.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmured, against his lips, hands against his sides, “oh gege, whether I remember what happened or not, there was no one else I could think of, but you.” He pressed a kiss to his lips, and then to the corner of it, arms tightening around Xie Lian until they were pressed closed, no space in between them. “Gege is so beautiful. There’s no one more so than him.”
“But−“
“Don’t you trust me?” Hua Cheng rasped, littering his jaw with kisses, and turning him breathless as he clung on, arms wounding around the other’s shoulders, the solid press of his body against his an irrevocable comfort. “All that heat, all that desire, all that frenzy; it was merely all my deepest wants towards you.”
The words have him dazed. He let out a gasp as the other sucked the skin of his neck, the bandages coming undone, right over his shackle. Hua Cheng pressed kisses along the entire line of it. Softened the pain with his ministrations until he was writhing in his arms.
Hua Cheng lifted him up so his feet were off the ground, immediately seating him atop the small table. He fit himself between Xie Lian’s knees, and Xie Lian leaned back, if only to have a look at him.
Hua Cheng’s eye was nothing but a depthless pool of want. It coated him head to toe, gaze taking him in like he wanted to ravish him whole. “Gege,” he said, helpless against his lips, like a plea, like a prayer. Xie Lian’s heart was overcome with so much affection for him for a second it left him winded.
How much he wanted Hua Cheng. How could he possibly even entertain the idea of someone else? “San Lang,” he whimpered, when the other was so ferocious, matching the heat of that night in the temple, hands smoothing along the length of his body, “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I won’t,” Hua Cheng promised, pulling back to press his lips to Xie Lian’s hair, “gege I will never leave you. Believe me, please.”
“But your…”
“There’s never been anyone but you,” Hua Cheng confessed. The moonlight casted a halo of silver against Xie Lian’s long hair, his robes dishelved, bruises blooming everywhere Hua Cheng lips had tugged and troubled. He was a picture of such striking beauty Hua Cheng could only stare in reverence, blessed by the sight before him. “There can be no one but you. Don’t you get it?”
He took Xie Lian’s hands, fitting them between his fingers, and keeping him close. Xie Lian grew quiet at this side of Hua Cheng; so possessive, as if he hated being even a second apart from him. As if he didn’t want anyone but him, to be allowed in this place. Hua Cheng kissed him softly, Xie Lian’s eyes fluttered shut from the other’s gentleness, as he spoke. “My beloved,” Hua Cheng whispered, and Xie Lian felt a full body shiver rack his form, Hua Cheng’s hands tightening their grip, “mine, all mine.”
How wonderful that sounded. Xie Lian buried his fingers in the other’s hair, barely gasping for breaths at times with Hua Cheng’s persistence, flushed head to toe, until he was all but sprawled against the small table, the legs of it creaking. Yet he had no worries; he knew Hua Cheng would keep him safe. Take care of him. Even in the midst of so much chaos, he never hurt him.
How could he now?
“Did I press you down like this?” Hua Cheng asked, against the shell of his ear. He took the tip of it between it his lips, tugging, and Xie Lian’s heart skipped a beat at the teasing. He slid Xie Lian’s hands up, pressing down against the table.
“Hmm,” there was so much heat all over him. He pulled out one hand from the other’s grip, instead guiding it along his sides, meeting Hua Cheng’s eye, his own all but glassy from want. “One, like that. The other, like this.”
Hua Cheng’s eye gleamed. The things they promised were sharp, glinting with nothing but mischief, and yet it made his heart race from the thrill of what the other had in store. “How, gege?” he asked, coyness in his faux innocence. His large palm glided down the side of his hips, and Xie Lian’s expression shifted. “Here too?”
“Hmm,” he was burning from the inside out. It was so much. The shame and bashfulness and yet this aching and awning desire for the other. He guided it further, and Hua Cheng’s lips twitched.
Hua Cheng curved it around his thigh, racking up the folds, to touch skin. Xie Lian threw his head aback, the coolness of his touch, his rings so lovely he could only gasp softly, panting at the sensations. “Gege,” Hua Cheng sounded so far away, a little helpless, as he kissed the hollow of Xie Lian’s throat, right underneath the shackle. “Oh gege. If you keep torturing your San Lang like this, I’m afraid I’ll lose control.”
“Then lose it,” he said. He wanted to be wholly and wholly Hua Cheng’s. What did Xie Lian have anyways? He wanted to be marked by the other, called the other’s. He wanted to have an imprint of him, his claim on him. Xie Lian knew little, of what…going further entailed. It was inevitable−coming across it with his bad luck, no matter how much he avoided it.
But Hua Cheng was like an irresistible delicacy. Finer than the finest. He was a bad habit Xie Lian wanted to indulge in limitlessly. To him, he was already a marred and broken piece of jade. What more, if this bit of attention could grant him a temporary polish to shine?
Against him, Hua Cheng groaned. “Gege,” he murmured, “you can’t expect this San Lang to hold himself back. I’m not that strong.”
His groped the flesh of his thighs, fitting himself against him as their robes turned all loose from the tugging. His lips collided against his, Xie Lian’s hand buried in his hair, the other slipping in the front of Hua Cheng’s robes, feeling the skin of his chest. The other shuddered from the sensation of Xie Lian’s nails dragging down the toned muscle, and before he knew it, Xie Lian could…
He could feel that.
It made him burn imperceptibly brighter; hotter. “San Lang,” he breathed, eyes shining with the gloss of unshed tears; from all these overwhelming feelings, crashing over him like a tidal wave. Hua Cheng let out an attentive hum, immediately raising his gaze to glance at him, heart softening as he took him in.
“Gege,” he whispered in the space between them, a newfound vulnerability as delicate as glass across his features. A fierce protectiveness curled around Xie Lian’s heart, brushing through his hair. “Am I dreaming?”
Despite himself, he sputtered a laugh. But he couldn’t get his eyes to open where he’d closed them, leaning his forehead against the other, and feeling the wetness gather at the edges of them. “If you are,” Xie Lian said, just as quiet, “then I wish you and I never wake up from it.”
Hua Cheng embraced him, face buried against his neck, breathing him in. Xie Lian did not know why, but the other seemed deeply enamored by every part of him, and it stoked the flames of desire even further. He could most definitely feel the result of it; Xie Lian willing to forget, and yet unable to ignore the promise of more.
He was more or less supporting himself on his hands as he leaned back against the table, Hua Cheng having pulled him into a more seated position with the hug. He parted, only to graze his thumb over Xie Lian’s spit-slicked and swollen lips. They were ragged red and parted the slightest bit; it was a testament to Hua Cheng’s self-control, he could even pace himself with a sight like this before him.
Instead, he dropped to his knees in between Xie Lian’s legs. The action was so shocking he merely stared, confused, only to let out an embarrassed gasp as the other tugged off his pants, leaving him in mere rumpled robes. “San Lang you−“ he sputtered, immediately closing his legs as the cold air in the room touched skin, and yet two strong hands parted them so wide open it made him want to crawl somewhere and hide.
By now, he was sure he was as red as a tomato. He could barely look Hua Cheng in the eye from where the other glanced up at him, a mischief in the darkness, as he kissed the side of Xie Lian’s knee. “Do you trust me?”
How could he even ask such a question? Xie Lian could only nod, mum. “Then let me show you how good you could feel, gege. Just sit back and relax. This San Lang will take care of your highness as reverently as he can.”
Something about his tone of voice, like gentle pressures in the conscious of his mind, managed to shrink down his initial fear and reluctance. Although his heart still pounded, he couldn’t help but melt under the other’s gentle but assertive touch, unable to fight it.
Instead, he could only watch in a daze, as Hua Cheng peppered kisses and bites all along the length of his legs. With him seated on the table, Xie Lian’s feet dangled the slightest bit, toes nearly touching the ground. Hua Cheng pulled off his socks, instead caressing his ankles, and pressing feather light kisses against the skin of the shackle, something heavy and unreadable in his eyes.
He slowly made his way up, and by that point, the hardening length of his cock had started aching from how much it needed some sort of relief. Xie Lian’s hands curled over the table top, not daring to just touch himself, knowing with his inexperience he wouldn’t know what to do.
Instead, Hua Cheng wrapped those long and sturdy fingers of his around Xie Lian’s cock and gave it a few good strokes. He couldn’t help it; an obscene sound escaped his lips, and he slapped a hand right over, fearful someone could hear.
“Don’t worry, gege,” Hua Cheng murmured, eye shining where it studied his every expression, “I set up an array; no one can disturb us.”
Insightful, aren’t you? He almost wished to snipe, but he could only fist his hand and muffle his sounds against it, as Hua Cheng continued his languid movements, before parting his lips and swirling his tongue right over the beading top.
“San Lang,” he admonished, barely above a whisper, hands flustering about, “that’s−that’s−“
But Hua Cheng did not care. His grip tightened and Xie Lian could only groan, face twisted in a tug of war between this incredible new and pleasurable sensation and the reluctance his centuries old abstinence pushed forward. His chest felt so tight, watching as Hua Cheng closed his eye, sinking down as he took all his length in, nose against the hairs at his base, breathing him with nothing short of bliss on his face.
This sight…it was too crude. It was too beautiful. Xie Lian felt the slip of wetness along the side of his cheeks, gasping as the other sucked, tongue skillfully pressing about his cock. Xie Lian had never known pleasure like this−never known a way someone’s mouth could do such wonders with such obscenity.
“San Lang…” he moaned, trying and failing to keep his voice down, gripping the table with such strength the wood threatened to splinter apart. Hua Cheng hummed; the vibrations so pleasant they send tingles of pleasure up his spine, until it was starting to get too much as he moved his mouth up and down, hand reached into the other’s hair to get him to stop.
But all he ended up doing was accidently tug the stands, Hua Cheng letting out a guttural sound that had him dazed and watching, flush spreading down his neck and chest until he was coloured in the crimson Hua Cheng adored so much. “Stop…” he begged, yet his body betrayed him, jerking forward in the other’s touch, “I…San Lang I can’t…”
But that heat in his gut−it was so lovely. Sweltering. It simmered in his body and tightened the knot until he could barely breathe. Flashes of heat all over his being as he could only chant the other’s name, body strung taught, eyes screwed shut as the pleasure reached this inescapable peak and−
White.
It’s like his vision grew blurred, body losing all energy, shuddering as a drawn out sound from deep in his throat escaped; airy and yet desperate, limbs heavy and body…
Sated. Weird. Xie Lian felt like he was falling and drowning, and before he could panic as he confronted the matter of what he just did−the lessons broken into him like a hard ruler in his adolescence−Hua Cheng was already there, gathering him in his arms and warming him in the safety of his embrace, his presence.
“Gege,” he said, against the side of his head, holding him tight, “gege, you’re okay?”
He nodded, leaning into him, loosely grasping him. It felt so good. He wanted to focus on that. And nothing more. Opening his eyes and gazing into Hua Cheng’s, finding concern and yet depthless desire in them. He leaned up and kissed him, something salty on the other’s tongue that he realized was his own…
Goodness. He totally glossed over the fact Hua Cheng swallowed it up. “San Lang,” he could only speak in disbelief, “you’re crazy.”
“For gege? Incredibly so.”
He couldn’t help his smile. Kissing him softly. They remained like that for a bit; Xie Lian felt so utterly spent, and yet he didn’t want to move away from the other. Only wanted more and more, a greedy pot that had been empty too long. Clumsy yet bold, he reached forward, touching the other and−
“Gege,” Hua Cheng gasped against his lips, a full body shudder racking through him, “what−“
“Don’t tell me this is it?” he blinked up at him, in both upset and disappointment, eyes still glassy from unshed tears of pleasure, flushed from the other’s care, “San Lang, even I am not that gullible.”
Hua Cheng had the audacity to grin, “gege is informed? Then he must tell this one what to do next.”
So shameless. He felt his heart thunder, but he did not break away from the other’s gaze, watching him so he could know, grazing his touch over the clothed hard length, and Hua Cheng’s eye fluttering from the sensation. “This…” Xie Lian licked his lips, “I must attend to you, too.”
“Gege doesn’t need to,” he breathed, clearly affected from the petting, “really, gege…should only care about his own pleasure…”
“Sometimes,” he murmured against the other other’s lips, “my San Lang says some dumb things despite all his smarts.”
Perhaps Hua Cheng wanted to say something back. But merely hearing ‘my San Lang’ had him completely thrown off his axis, in a sudden move sliding his hands underneath Xie Lian’s thighs and picking him up. Before he could even ask, the other threw his dice and stepped through the doors of Puqi Shrine, landing them right into what seemed the master bedroom within Paradise Manor.
In moments, he was laid against the soft bedding and red silks, pampered with the sudden gentleness in the other’s actions. Hua Cheng didn’t move immediately though−propping himself on one arm, and taking him in first, as if he was still in a dream.
“San Lang?” he called out, voice quiet, raising his hand to brush the other’s hair, heart soft. “What’s wrong?”
Hua Cheng shook his head, instead shedding off his outer robe, raising a hand to probably wave away his jewelry but Xie Lian stopped him. Both of them sitting atop the grand divan, as he leaned forward and undid the clasp of the necklace, the bracelet, removing the rings one by one.
Hua Cheng’s hands were soft and smooth, cool to the touch. Veins raising the surface of the skin, Xie Lian running his fingers along the length of them. He glanced up, to be met with an expression so vulnerable it nearly shattered him apart and put him back altogether again. If he had any doubts before, they would not dare to stay anymore. Xie Lian pushed open the folds of the other’s inner robe, the pale skin coming to view.
Hua Cheng did not waiver in his attention. Gaze fixated on him, as Xie Lian’s roamed all over, hands a little shaky, but determined. He tried to imitate what the other had done−how he made him feel. The strong set of abdominal muscles catching his eyes, Xie Lian trailing his tough down, a thin trail of hair that disappeared down the waistband of his pants, something about the obvious tent in them making his mouth dry.
“Gege?”
“Hmm,” focus. But he raised his gaze, feeling a little lost. “San Lang…”
Hua Cheng’s smile was so indulgent, it made all his worries vanish. He kissed his forehead, and Xie Lian melted, instead letting the other undress him the same, until they were both down to nothing. It was terribly intimate. Xie Lian almost wanted him to look away.
Xie Lian had never considered this body anything more than that−a body. A vessel. Especially with his past experiences. But something about Hua Cheng’s touches, his reverent gaze, had him experiencing his own skin in a different way. It made him fluster and feel. It made him want to touch the other the same.
And so he did. Pushing Hua Cheng back against the pillows near the headboard. Wrapping a hand around the other and feeling him jerk in his hold, the sheer size of it daunting and yet enticing. Hua Cheng’s breathing grew short; ragged. Pupils dilating, and the faintest dusting of red on his cheeks. He was clearly restraining himself−indulging Xie Lian’s wide eyed careful consideration.
He built a rhythm. Slow and steady. And then, without warning, ducked down.
“Gege−“ Hua Cheng all but choked out a broken moan, head thumping back against the headboard, “you…” But he couldn’t even continue, Xie Lian so easily able to take him all in. Swallowing swords came in handy after all, he thought to himself, and then banished that thought away before he ruined the mood. For now, he could only focus on this.
Hua Cheng’s wrecked appearance. His hands tethering themselves to the sheets, a slip in the perfect persona he displayed in front of him. Xie Lian took his time to explore how he liked it, only to find Hua Cheng affected by all of it. He tried to speed up, growing consistent, feeling that the other was so close to the state Xie Lian had reached when he was being pulled off and flipped on to his back, Hua Cheng’s mouth against his, his hands spreading his legs apart to make space for himself.
“San Lang−“ but it was all muffled in between pants and gasps, as the other deepened their kiss and all but ravaged him, the heat in his core stirring, feeling the other’s length against him. Xie Lian’s grazed his hands over the other’s wide shoulders, his broad back, down the curvature of his spine. Each thought only appreciation one after the other of the sheer strength and beauty Hua Cheng possessed, wanting no more than to be a part of him. To have his essence imprinted on his very soul.
Hua Cheng shifted, and Xie Lian could feel the lone finger encircling near his hole, much as it tried that night. This time, nothing but excitement filled his entire being, electrifying as Hua Cheng broke off, gazing deeply into his eyes as he pushed it in. Xie Lian drew in a deep breath−it was wet, the slide smooth. He tensed, only for Hua Cheng’s expression to soften. “Gege,” he soothed, drawing it back and forth, strange and hypnotic, “relax for me.”
Just with those words alone, he found himself giving in. Xie Lian wanted more. He wanted all the other could give him. Over and over. He could only grip the other’s shoulder, as Hua Cheng pushed in a second finger, and once he adjusted, started stretching him further.
By this point, Xie Lian had let go of all inhibitions. He could only focus on this new feeling−and once Hua Cheng shifting his fingers a certain way, the immense unbearable pleasure−his arousal waking up once more. Hua Cheng added another finger, murmuring sweet praises against his ear, and Xie Lian could not resist how badly he needed more.
“San Lang,” he begged, “please, please−I…”
“You…?” Hua Cheng didn’t look any better. But yet, he dangled this temptation in front of him, as if wanting him to speak it, “what does my beloved need?”
It set ablaze a fire in his chest, the words and the images. “You,” gasped, “San Lang please. Please just−just I need you−“ how was he to make him understand? He felt his vision blur, unable to force himself to make the request, as Hua Cheng watched, mouth parted and eye glazed in desire. “San Lang.”
“Gege,” he echoed right back, slipping out his fingers and leaving him empty and clenching at air. Xie Lian was half tempted to start sobbing right there and then. Hua Cheng’s pose was so relaxed, sitting himself back on his knees, stroking himself with one hand as the other thumbed his tears. “Look at you−why won’t you tell your San Lang what you want?”
“You…” he was so indignant. Flushing from annoyance, from impatience and arousal. Watching Hua Cheng’s cock beading as he continued his movements, Xie Lian’s own aching and unattended against his stomach. Hua Cheng was a painting of sin; so in reach, if he just extended his will…
“You need to be clear, gege,” he consoled, something about the tone making him feel as malleable as clay, “isn’t this such a big step for you? I still remember what you once said.”
“You know that wasn’t true,” he whined.
Hua Cheng tilted his head, a sick sort of satisfaction in his gaze as he enjoyed watching Xie Lian struggle so much with the words, “how dare I? Gege’s words are nothing but the truth to me. So tell me, gege. What do you want?”
What do you want?
So much. “I…” Xie Lian swallowed back, unable to take it, “San Lang please. I need you inside of me−I want you to…to make me yours. I want to only be filled by you. I want−I want every bit of you on me, so I’m only and only yours.”
Xie Lian’s face was on fire, hiding away as he turned his head and buried his face against the pillow. But Hua Cheng could barely collect himself together, not expecting the sudden barrage. Xie Lian’s hands were pried away from the pillows, instead pressed down against the sheets, fingers interlocking in place as Hua Cheng entered him, and Xie Lian could only feel his body stretch to accommodate him.
It was so very intimate; Hua Cheng waited, for him to adjust. But Xie Lian encouraged him to move, willing to bear any of the discomfort, knowing he would take Hua Cheng any way he could. He would force himself to make it fit−make space for this person he couldn’t bear to be apart from him.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng whispered, filled with adoration, “look at me.”
And he did. Opening his eyes, the slightest blur to the other’s image from his tears, but doing nothing to diminish the beautiful grin on the other’s face. “That’s good,” Hua Cheng said, a thin sheen of sweat against his body, heating up from the passion brewing at the core of both of them, “don’t be nervous. Breathe, first.”
He wanted to argue he was fine. To get on with it. But Xie Lian realized Hua Cheng would never listen−he would remain as long as needed until and unless he made sure Xie Lian was okay; comfortable, cared for. And so he did. Relaxing as Hua Cheng peppered kisses to the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving one side blooming red before he did the same to the other, and just as his lips met his, Hua Cheng shifted, a moan of pleasure shared between them.
He’d never in a million years imagine a sensation that could even come close to describing this.
Xie Lian had never banked on finding affection, much less such intimacy with another person. It was like he was a starved desert, quenched after a thousand year drought. Shallow pants remained between them, gaze locked as the sensation grew deeper and deeper. Xie Lian needed more−grappling on to the smooth expanse of the other’s back, the burn of the stretch, of his being invaded, molded and shaped so intense there was no way for the tears in his eyes to remain held back. “San Lang,” he murmured, over and over, chanting it in a voice so tantalizing Hua Cheng’s entire being threatened to disperse right then and there.
His thrusts turned deeper, picking pace. Xie Lian felt like he could see stars every time the other brushed against that sensitive spot, maddeningly fast and repetitive. His entire body burned, an inferno lit in the centre of him, gasping and panting as his whole body shone with sweat, baring himself for the other and−
Xie Lian felt his body go taut, a sharp sound escaping between his red bitten lips and a flush colouring him head to toe. He could acutely, for a moment, feel everything shatter and combust inside of him−and yet, just as fast, reassured with a torrent of delicious energy filling in the gaps it left behind, sealing it with a blinding light of power. Xie Lian blinked up to find Hua Cheng above him, hair messy from all his tugging.
He reached up and pulled off the eyepatch, and brought him down before he could protest. Kissed against the scarred skin, the slight hollow feel behind it, and felt Hua Cheng throb inside of him, feeling so full like a part of him he never realized was missing had been completed. “San Lang,” he breathed, and Hua Cheng panted against his sternum, shaking as tremors of his own release wracked his frame.
For a moment, neither spoke.
This silence, however, was the loudest thing the two of them knew. It held all their acceptance and all their pleasure and all their desire. Their expectations, their admittance, their confessions. “Gege,” Hua Cheng breathed, kissing him softly, he could only and only hear his words from earlier in every call of his name. “Gege.”
“Mhm,” he moaned against his lips, feeling him shift and the warmth trickling down his thighs. Xie Lian felt the same possessiveness rear its head; he didn’t want any of it to be wasted. Tightened his legs around Hua Cheng and inadvertently clenched against the other’s cock, causing him to groan loud and low, face buried against his neck.
“Gege, you…we should…”
But all these words kept getting lost in this heat. Xie Lian could feel his cock, even after his release, remain hard inside of him. It made warmth pool in his chest, staring down at the other’s open expression, vulnerable and hesitant. “Why’d you stop?” he asked, voice hoarse, “keep going. Don’t stop. I want more of you−I want so much of you until you have nothing to give.”
Hua Cheng’s eyes darkened, a ferociousness in them that sent a thrill down his spine. “Gege can’t say those things to beasts like me,” he said, a seduction in his voice while a mockery to himself, “I…how am I supposed to….”
“Don’t,” Xie Lian murmured, running his fingers down his spine, his shoulders, “please.” He begged, over and over, soft and slight, until Hua Cheng was stretching against him, snug and full, and Xie Lian could only throw his head back in how good it felt. Hua Cheng slipped out, and he whined so distressed the other placated him with kisses against his cheeks, before shifting behind him to pull him against his chest, lifting a leg up as he slid back in, the slide so smooth and the obscene squelch of it making him a bit dizzy as Hua Cheng fucked into him with a renewed rhythm.
Xie Lian grasped on to the arm around his waist, Hua Cheng’s fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs as he held him in place, face buried against the crook of his neck as his hot breaths scathed the skin of it. Xie Lian could only and only think of Hua Cheng−completely surrounded by his scent, his voice, his spent. His own coated the surface of his stomach, Hua Cheng’s other hand grazing the smooth skin of it and−
“Does gege want me to fill him up again,” he whispered against the shell of his ear, taking it in between his lips and tugging the flesh until Xie Lian was a mess of sounds writhing underneath him, Hua Cheng’s speed much more ferocious and unforgiving, “or does he want me to slip−“
“No,” he didn’t want to hear more of whatever else it was going to be, “no, no, San Lang please, please please−“
“Please what?” Hua Cheng taunted, mischief darkening his voice, “gege wants me to stuff him full, doesn’t he?”
“Y-yes, yes, yes!” Xie Lian’s own length was aching with the need for release, reaching out only for his hands to be held in a tight grip by the other, all but crying the other’s name. “San Lang I need to−“
“Shh,” Hua Cheng nuzzled against his face, Xie Lian turning to kiss him. “This one will serve his god well. Gege will be so full of me until he’s unable to keep it all in; mine and only mine.”
He adored the edge of possessiveness in the other’s voice. Hua Cheng’s thrusts started growing more erratic, and he let go of Xie Lian’s hands, instead reaching down to cup his length. One tug, and another, and Xie Lian came with a cry, streaking the sheets with a cry of the other’s name. Hua Cheng shuddered from the strength of his voice, deeply seating himself inside, before he too came.
Xie Lian’s entire being trembled from the waves and waves of spiritual energy being poured into him. His body ached, he felt sore, and there was a numbness in his legs from being spread open for so long. Hua Cheng’s fingers left gorgeous marks, and yet when the other flipped him on his stomach, parting his hair to teeth the skin of his nape, littering the space around his shackle with kisses to soothe, he did not want to stop.
Even as his legs trembled the slightest bit, knees weak as the other put a pillow under his hips to lift him up, Xie Lian only bared himself completely to the other’s mercy. Hua Cheng’s words, his promises, his remarks. It had him flushing and burying his face in the sheets, clenching them tight as the length of him resting against the cleft of his buttocks, before slowly pressing in. Xie Lian was so incredibly wet; all of it slowly pressed back inside, as Hua Cheng raised himself to start once more, and he could only succumb to this insatiable desire unlocked at the centre of him.
*
Xie Lian woke up with a weight against his chest.
There was no light streaming through the windows of a blaring sun, but there was a lightness to the world outside, as the red drapes swayed from the occasional flutter of a breeze. It took him a second to reorient himself.
Hua Cheng was fast asleep against his chest, right over his heartbeat. His eyes shut, and arms holding him in an embrace as though he never wished to part from him. Memories of last night came back in−and his body reminded him very well of them too. But he could not find it in himself to feel anything but a sense of relief at the end of all the embarrassment, so cocooned in the safety of the other’s presence he did not wish to part.
Hua Cheng’s eyes fluttered open; slow, and languid. He took him in the same way Xie Lian did; feeling his warm body press against his cold one and keeping them warmed under these crimson covers. Feeling the press of skin against skin against every part of which they touched, and the smattering of bruises all along Xie Lian’s skin, neck to his legs.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmured, voice hoarse, “are you real?”
And the question opened a chasm in his chest, that Xie Lian could only fill with the other’s touch, the other’s voice, the other’s words. “I am,” he admitted, smiling small, before he brushed his hair back, and Hua Cheng toyed with the ring on Xie Lian’s chest, “are you?”
“I hope,” Hua Cheng closes his eyes, as though praying, “I hope. I hope, I hope.”
Xie Lian could only bring his arms around the other, as they both soaked in the silence and revelation, that for either of them, this was far better than any dream they could conjure up.
(“About the courage potion you gave,” Xie Lian said, a few days later, happily swinging his legs in the pond as he watched the kids play in the water. True to Yining’s words, they were entertaining and perhaps not bright, “I must thank you.”
Yining took a moment, though she seemed glad. “Potion?”
“Yes?” Xie Lian blushed, staring down at his radiant reflection. It wasn’t anything different; but there seemed to be a glow about him, in the gentle care that was clearly being bestowed upon him like a scattering of prayers. His hair combed and brushed by loving hands, and clothes handpicked by an even gentler thought. A flower resting right where his hair had been braided, adding a touch of such ethereal beauty, Yining could no longer coincide him with the man she previously met. “I…I must thank you. You…you were right. Talking helped resolved most of our issues. Greatly.”
That, Yining had seen the moment he’d come back, ghost qi lingering over him top to bottom, inside and out. But she kept that thought to herself. “I see. But daozhang, it was all your doing,”
“Eh?”
“Hmm,” Yining watched the children make fools of themselves carefree. Not minding their clumsiness, as they explored and explored, “that was just water. It was you who plucked the courage and took the step forward.”
Humans could accomplish much if they merely put their mind to it! But after a long silence, she found Xie Lian very much stiff and frozen, red as a tomato, as he contemplated this confession.)