[ It's a few hours they've been walking on this field, gathering herbs to be turned into concoctions or dried. Hua Cheng stands far from Xie Lian, nearly the most distance he can keep without their bodies physically hurting. The discomfort is there, prickles at his soul like pins and needles, cries softly in the back of his mind, but the familiar pretends he can't feel it. It's better not to be too close, it's surely what Xie Lian prefers.
Nothing has technically changed ever since that day Hua Cheng lost control on his powers, the shock and misery of having to see a statue of misfortune breaking him despite his years. Yet, his bond with Xie Lian doesn't feel the same anymore. It's like walking on the same path you know, but suddenly the surroundings are blurry, and an unsettling quietness lingers all around. It's not like Xie Lian has been keeping him out, their connection lingers, and yet Hua Cheng cannot reach the same depth, like the other is keeping him at a safe distance.
His familiar cannot blame him, that day is a mixture of fractured memories and instinctive decisions, not necessarily right. He decided to worship Xie Lian and show him how pleasure felt like, given by someone who cares earnestly about him, someone who wants him free of constraints, unlike Jun Wu. But it was a one-sided decision. Xie Lian had never asked.
Maybe Xie Lian thought him out of place, or blasphemous. Maybe Xie Lian loves Jun Wu better than his familiar and would rather follow his teachings, with how long the sovereign has been around his master —he hasn't realized, after all, how many times he'd met Hua Cheng before, in a variety of different faces, and the younger doesn't mean to tell him. Hua Cheng knows that he should be thankful: Xie Lian in his graciousness has decided not to scold or punish him, simply keep him a little further. But he finds himself selfish and he hasn't been able to control the sadness that's infected his mood recently.
He has retreated into his mind, concerned about his every action and how it'll be read, growing if not timid, conscious, self-despisal flared up in return for what he perceives like rejection. He's quiet as his gaze goes through the grass and wild flowers, looking for medicinal ones, not even caring about the drizzle that's growing more insistent by the minute. He hasn't even resorted to magic and his long hair has grown shiny and damp, his red robes darker in a few spots.
His boots jingle at each careful step, until he stops and crouches by a white flower, shielding it with his large hand. It reminds him of a certain someone who's not far, gathering herbs in a basket. He smiles and caresses its petals with a finger, infusing it with magic to ensure its well-being, before he sighs and reaches to pluck closeby dandelions, rubbing wet soil from the roots. His fingers are plenty dirty and smeared with mud by the time he reaches Xie Lian. ]
Gege, I found dandelions for tea. Both flowers and roots. I'm sure you'll be able to trade it easily. [ He smiles sweetly as he places them in the basket, not giving any reaction even as their bond tingles with relief. His gaze sweeps over the thin chain around the other's graceful neck, carrying the ring that he had the older find the day after their shared affection. His master has never taken it off since, despite not knowing its meaning.
Hua Cheng looks down and away, not even catching Xie Lian's eyes despite yearning for it, scared what he'd find there. He asks, obedient and well-behaved: ] What else do you need?
( the truth is that even years of being ridiculed and shamed did not prepare him for how things feel in the aftermath. hua cheng's words had come through in that fiery haze, that xie lian need not feel guilty and yet he does. his familiar depends on him, and was good enough to find him despite all odds being against such a thing, and yet...
an unfortunate herb skips the mortar and pestle stage inside of xie lian's closed hand, causes a scattering of dark smudged green on his robes that yet resiliently retain so much white even in the rain. kneeling as he is, head bowed as he sorts the other not-crushed herbs into their own folds of cloth in his basket, the energy of xie lian is a manufactured quiet. his qi unconsciously likens its shape to something as shackled and muted as his magic. the warmest thing on his blood and bone body is the feeling of the ring around his neck, the meaning of which he has not asked of yet, feeling he does not have the right.
the first day after was difficult, a whiplash of back and forth as xie lian's body deeply over sensitized, would spike in heat and stimulation at the tiniest of things: the brush of his clothing against his chest, the nearness of hua cheng's fingertips to his wrist, and so on. mortified in a way he thought he had grown well beyond, xie lian had gone to bed early that day, curled against the wall to hide himself and tried as best he could to learn how to pick-and-choose what came through their link.
he's a quick learner, always has been.
to their detriment, though he doesn't understand fully yet.
what xie lian thinks is protecting hua cheng as well as effectively denying himself (as he should, in his own head), is not that at all.
so for days the distance and careful quiet xie lian has cultivated in the red string between them has been like a constantly blooming bruise across all of hua cheng, pressed on or not depending on how bad, and perhaps worst of all for the familiar, insight into his master is exactly that blurred path: familiar colors, lights, shadows, but nothing concrete. for xie lian, he doesn't realize it either, so focused on trying to not want too much or ask for too much or indeed even let himself recognize his own very new and very distracting physical ache. on the basest level, it is like an animal who has been shown warmth after not in a long time, starving for it now that it has been reminded what it is.
but the statues are and were not ever completely out of hand. once, xie lian did think so; was incensed. these days, he accepts it and carries tendrils of guilt for not being able to do more.
perhaps with hua cheng, he errs on the side of over caution because he fears falling short for him. one should not idolize someone; it will only lead to disappointment. the gentle smile that rests in his expression fractures. ruoye unfurls and slips off his wrist to whisper around his neck before returning to his arm. it causes the bandages around xie lian's neck to part, but he doesn't notice for now, not quite daring to meet hua cheng's gaze either even as his body automatically starts to turn from where he's kneeling in the earth, drawn to him. )
This is good, San Lang. Thank you.
( why does it feel like a shortcoming even to not have something more to ask of him? xie lian's heart feels uncomfortable. heavy. tight. a bond with a familiar is not like one's own magic even if it supports that. especially with xie lian, who has none to speak of, now that his body has accepted from hua cheng already, it pleads for it but xie lian stifles it. in his mind, he has already taken too much. if the day ever comes he can repay him, properly complete their bond as master and familiar, magic like a heart revived, he will. for now, xie lian is just focused on not taking.
as the rain falls a bit harder, he finally does peer up at him, blinking through the wet, gaze catching on hua cheng's hair. automatic, he reaches out to touch some of the shining strands. )
I don't want San Lang to get sick. We should go back. The field will be here after the rain too.
( then he smiles at him, but it feels, most of all, like an apology, underneath even this, all of xie lian's soul and body on the edge of physical pain the same as his familiar for what he denies them, thinking it is the right thing to do. )
[ It hurts. It hurts in ways he didn't think possible after everything he's gone through, the abuse, the hopelessness, his missing eye. It hurts more deeply, like his soul is being crushed in that mortar too, together with the herbs.
By denying them closeness, Xie Lian is actively choking him, hands around his neck without even realizing. It is torture, but Hua Cheng believes he deserves all pain he gets, especially when it's Xie Lian giving it to him, even on accident. What's more, Hua Cheng has increased his punishment, blocking off his magic, the very same that he poured into his master, the source of the problem. He hasn't used even a drop of it ever since that day, doing everything by hand the way Xie Lian does and with even more effort, for he doesn't own an equally powerful qi.
E'Ming on his neck has been shut, not allowed to show its suffering, together with its owner's, and has turned into a leather collar, much harsher against the skin. The rub has chafed it, reddened and broken it. But it's little price, he knows. He deserves worse, for what he has taken. The way Xie Lian avoids to look at him proves it, together with his distance. It's still seared in his mind, under his skin, the way he curled up so small on the bed the day after, giving him his back like he didn't want to see him anymore. Hua Cheng had wanted to disappear then. He'd laid on the floor that night, undeserving of sharing that bed, of being close again. And he's avoided sleeping ever since.
He tenses up when his hair is touched, relief flooding for a moment their bond, so thick and intense it makes his vision swim for a moment. Please echoes breathlessly in their connection, his soul begging desperately, before he straightens up and looks away from those perfect fingers. He remembers the way they felt tugging onto that very same hair, while he-- ]
San Lang will do as he's told. [ He replies, softly, gaze daring to look up at that smile. It only gives him a pang of pain though, with how sad and apologetic it looks. Hua Cheng has been a shadow of himself, the smug and brazen youth replaced by a meek and obedient one, fearful like that cat rescued on a day of celebrations.
He wouldn't normally get sick just from the rain, but he's as weak as a human with his magic denied both by himself and their bond. Maybe even weaker, since this body isn't technically alive, no beating heart or warm blood. ]
I could still serve gege even sick, it is no issue. [ He reassures him, with a slight tinge of urgency. In this situation, what would happen were he to stop entirely being useful...?
Being chased away would be worse than dying again. ]
( it's many decades, centuries of mistakes and learned patience and stubborn empathy that has xie lian gently rising to his feet, just to take both of hua cheng's hands in his own, the basket softly turned to its side near xie lian's ankles. he rubs his fingertips across hua cheng's knuckles, as if he could work in warmth, head bowed, the long tenacious tangle of his own hair almost black with how soaked through it is. a sharp contrast to the white he always wears. )
San Lang, I know it isn't conventional, and I apologize. I seem to be in the habit of not doing things how I should, or how is expected.
( his smile is hidden because of his lowered head, rueful. despite trying to protect hua cheng from himself by keeping their bond quiet and controlled, and so closing off certain intuitions, xie lian has a soft hearted advantage of simply caring enough about him regardless. hua cheng reminds him of an injured animal of late, and even more so right now, so xie lian is excruciatingly gentle with his touch, comfort channeled into it with the utmost care, his qi running soothing lines along him as a hand along a cat's back or fingers carded through a person's hair, a palm drawing wide open hearted circles across a broad back, and so on. )
But even if it is typical for a familiar to "serve", I prefer to try us thinking of each other as something more equal. San Lang's well being is important to me, and I neither want you to fall sick nor feel you need to "serve". Or if that is unavoidable, San Lang would need to accept me serving him as well.
( with that, xie lian finally looks up, and this time his smile is a more familiar warmth. ignoring the rain, and anyway at this point they are both drenched, xie lian keeps one hand curved softly over one of hua cheng's, while the other lifts carefully to pause in front of his face as if asking permission, and if it is given, xie lian will fit his palm and long pale tapered fingers against the side of hua cheng's face, gentle gentle gentle. fond. yet firm underneath it all: the heart and the nerve in many storied alignment.
then xie lian's qi wraps around all of hua cheng like a physical embrace of sunlight in the midst of the dark storm: there, there. it is alright. i promise. please help me understand. )
[ They're suddenly so close that their bond sighs deeply in relief. The more Xie Lian's gentle fingers try to rub warmth into Hua Cheng's, the more their connection rejuvenates, like a plant getting watered after drying out in the harsh sun. Hua Cheng tries not to think of their entwined hands while they were kissing on the other's bed, but controlling his thoughts about his better half is starting to become difficult. Especially so when at the limits of his gaze there are the older's white robes, becoming nearly see-through because of rain, and his loosened neck bandages, showing the fading bruise of his love bite. His chest aches and so his heart.
Hua Cheng breathes out shakily when he feels that familiar qi caress him gently: he hadn't been touched by it ever since it eagerly welcomed his power, that day. His magic ripples, but Hua Cheng's sheer will pushes it back down, almost bowing to the other's qi. Xie Lian could find it unbearable, to be touched by his magic again, could find it dirty.
There's a devil in the back of his mind, who dares scoffing at Xie Lian's words, who dares whispering about what he says doesn't match what he does. Hua Cheng is confused. He thought he was meant to serve, after he had been rejected so obviously. If that is taken from him too, what can he do? He tilts his head, long damp locks following the motion and slipping off his shoulder, raindrops running down his cheeks and chin, like the tears he's unable to shed.
It is that pained confusion that meets the radiant light of the other's smile and his magic surges through him in a sudden wave at the sight of it. It floods him with relief. He trembles violently when qi embraces him, unable to control the way his magic leans into it, daring to touch it back, like two palms, two foreheads resting together. ]
Gege... [ He whispers oh so quiet while tilting his head into his hand, basking into his touch like a cat. He closes his eyes and acts merely on instinct when he presses a peck to his palm, only to realize belatedly and stiffen, timid gaze searching for the other's disgust in hazel eyes. He doesn't hold it for more than a second, looking down soon after. ]
We were equals that day, in each other's arms. There was no serving. I didn't give and dianxia didn't take; we exchanged. [ It takes little imagination to understand what he's talking about, voice jagged like a shard. ] But dianxia was understandably displeased with me. I am unworthy and forgot myself by trying and being dianxia's equal. I can only serve. [ His master has always been too good to him that Hua Cheng forgot his place. What a horrible mistake, he's ruined everything.
Hua Cheng suddenly drops on his knees, like the masked person from a long time ago. Back straight like a soldier's and hands on his thighs, he is in the same pose as the ones who take their own life for honor out of the battlefields. ] I can't accept dianxia serving me, that would be blasphemous. There's only one person you should serve and that's yourself. [ Not even Junwu, his words imply --he's the least worthy, but he cannot mention it, for maybe part of the other's unhappiness with him stems also from the way he dared shooing thoughts of the beloved and revered sorcerer out of Xie Lian's mind. ]
( there is a sigh in xie lian's voice carried off by the rain, but maybe it does not matter as he lowers himself to the ground, hands reaching out gently to frame hua cheng's face, guiding him to meet his gaze if he is not wholly opposed. though not all of his carefully held walls come down, it is as if xie lian has made a door or a window in himself, and the flow of his qi seeks to invite in whatever magic hua cheng wishes to grace him with, a soothing warmth of a light in the dark that spells safety and something almost secret. meanwhile, xie lian's hands never leave hua cheng's face, just holding him, as if to say: i do not reject you, i am not disappointed, you are the furthest from unworthy.
in truth, it breaks his heart, a feeling he nearly thought he had become sort of dissociated from over centuries.
for xie lian's empathy has been cut open a hundred times, but it has grown back without anything to show for it on his physical body or his magic; as if nothing bad has ever happened to him. the only "proof" is of his shame and exile: shackles banding neck and ankle that xie lian fails to recognize for what they truly are, tied to jun wu as he is. but with hua cheng connection is not a thing of shame. the only matter of ambivalence is that xie lian neither knows how to handle that he lost control — even if hua cheng calls it an exchange, he cannot quite see it that way; he is older, he can sense it, than his familiar, and he has no excuse after the multitudes of situations and years; he should not have succumbed. still. he does not want to disregard hua cheng's genuine perspective either, which brings them here: soaked through to the bone.
except even without magic, xie lian has something left between his qi and ruoye. he lets his qi nudge against hua cheng's magic, as if xie lian is now the cat rubbing between hua cheng's ankles or seeking to nap on his chest and purr in the cadence of a heartbeat. )
San Lang. I was never displeased with you. It was with myself that I was discouraged. But that too was my oversight. I should have just talked with you.
( the smile is self-deprecating, but xie lian gets to his feet again, this time reaching to grasp one of hua cheng's hands with his own. )
Please, we can go back together. I need — no, I want to dry you off before you get sick.
( despite his looks, xie lian's grip is firm, their fingers interlaced.
what xie lian cannot do about the weather, he tries to make up in other ways. if hua cheng allows him, he will find himself flooded with xie lian's qi even more than before, like being warmed from the inside, out. it might even make him feel physically lighter during their walk home (if hua cheng agrees to it, that is.) and if, at some point, xie lian can tell hua cheng won't pull away, his grip will soften just so he can turn his hand enough that his thumb can rub soothingly along hua cheng's knuckles, attempting to reassure him in any conceivable way that he can. they are both drenched and earth muddied, and need baths, but all xie lian is focused on right now is getting them home at all. their foraged things lay forgotten in the grass, but they can be found again anew on a sunnier day. )
[ Xie Lian will be able to feel a wave of near-panic, when he apologizes, Hua Cheng's eyes growing wide. What for...? His hands instinctively reach out to try and stop the other from kneeling, but the older's too determined and his familiar finds him soon at eye level, touching him, letting him in. That familiar path of their connection is becoming a little sharper, closer to how it used to be when Hua Cheng first got his powers back. There's a string of magic, as thin as the one around his finger, that naturally flows into that breach Xie Lian has made for him.
He shivers but it's not the cold, nor the chill that comes with being wet. Rather it's the relief, bordering pleasure of the other's qi rubbing against him, of those hands that hold his face. Hua Cheng relaxes into them, eyelashes fluttering, his cold fingers going to rub at Xie Lian's knuckles.
He gasps softly, his face giving away his surprise when Xie Lian tells him he wasn't displeased with him. The relief that floods him is near solid, like a hug that envelops Xie Lian in return and squeezes him, an echo of thanks reverberating through their bond. ] Did... did gege dislike our closeness so much, that you felt guilty for it? Does something good need a culprit? [ He cannot help wondering, voice soft, giving their entwined fingers a squeeze.
He looks obedient as he gets up, red clothes stained green and muddy, long hair looking like black silk threads, the sheen of water on them. The confession of the other's wish, his want, gives him a shiver. He yearns to fulfill the other's wants and needs, and so he nods, allowing it even if he doesn't like the notion of being looked after, when it should be him giving it all to his master --no, his equal; his other half.
That much qi filling him nearly takes his breath away. It's like being touched all over his skin, Hua Cheng's breathing growing quicker. ] Gege doesn't need to waste so much power on me... [ He glances at him almost pleadingly, for he realizes how much of it is being poured into him. In return, Hua Cheng finally reaches into his magic, thick and warm, like sunlight being cast on Xie Lian, the kiss of warm summer wind in his hair, the whisper of spring in his bones. Hua Cheng merely locked his magic away because he was scared his owner and that qi that had welcomed it didn't want it anymore, but it's still there, aplenty. He won't use it for himself, but he certainly will for Xie Lian. ]
I will have the herbs gathered. [ He promises, for his magic can go and take care of it, as soon as they step past the threshold of home. ] I will prepare a hot bath, gege needs to warm up. [ He offers softly, like he doesn't. His bond betrays him though, the craving for closeness translating into the picture of them sharing the tub, even if on opposite sides, poured right into the other's mind. ]
( for a moment, xie lian does not answer. ah is that how it must seem. it makes sense, and he feels all the guiltier for the miscommunication. indeed, he is quiet so long that in the end he answers only the other statement for the time being, finding it more important as he reaches out to stroke along hua cheng's magic the way he would run his fingers along a cat's side or back. )
It's not a waste at all. ( he does not bother telling hua cheng he needn't. he knows it would be a disservice to him to deny him of that act, and now that hua cheng is permitting both xie lian and himself awareness of his magic again, less fearful of having done wrong or not enough, xie lian can at least tell he doesn't lack for it. in fact, he thinks he has not met a single individual with as much magic as hua cheng seems to contain. it makes xie lian shiver with warmth, a heady feeling.
when he wonders how long it took him to cultivate, unexpectedly that thought's path strikes him in his heart like a physical loneliness augmented by unknown years, so visceral it seems to be his own but it's displaced in time and setting. it makes him stumble, but they are already inside his home so it's easy for him to reach out a hand to steady himself against the table.
for half a second there are even ripple sentiments coming from that darkness and it almost reminds xie lian of a time he would rather not think of — his fingers scraped raw and bleeding as he wondered if anyone could come to him in that dark, quiet place; so he doesn't.
instead, he lets his trembling fingers curl in his long, soaked sleeve, smiling at hua cheng as he says, )
San Lang needs to warm up as well.
( the image of them bathing together returns, this time given from xie lian's side, but it is expanded upon: both of them on the same side of the tub, small as it is anyway, xie lian behind hua cheng as he gently brushes his hair free of any tangles, a probable prelude to washing it.
around xie lian's neck, the bandages he usually uses to conceal the shackle there have come messy and unspooled, hanging in sad clinging fashion to his collarbones and stuck further down to the damp of his robe as all wet fabric is wont to do. ruoye has detached itself, soothed by the reconnection of master and familiar but still a little anxious, hovering next to xie lian with what can only be read as worry. )
[ The contrast between the comforting warmth of Xie Lian's qi and the sudden sting of a wandering thought punches the breath out of Hua Cheng's lungs. He acts instinctively, in a moment, reaching for his own magic to simply fill the distance next to the other in half a beat, one hand curled around his wrist gently and one arm wound around his waist, sustaining him and preventing him from falling. He can feel the echo of that thought, can tell it regarded cultivation, but he cannot understand whose: his own? his master's? His own comes from such deep, unrelenting suffering, from torture of years peaking in a demonic tool, that he hopes his master never peeks into it, even if Hua Cheng doesn't actively try to hide it. ]
Is gege okay? [ He asks softly, realizing how close he is only when his breath makes the other's locks sway. He can't let go now, since he's supporting him, but he feels conscious, still unsure whether such closeness is allowed. His doubt is quieted by the image that spreads in his mind, enlarging like a drop of ink on wet paper, until it fills the whole of it and Hua Cheng loves it.
He smiles sheepishly, letting go of the other slowly now that he's sure he'll stand. His other half wants to bathe with him, wants to be close, wants to care for him: the heat that expands in his still heart will surely bleed over Xie Lian's as well, together with thick feeling of contentment.
Hua Cheng crouches down on the floor, gentle fingers, warm because of the other's qi, touching his ankles and holding them while his opposite hand removes his shoes. It's a gesture that brings with it a flash of their shared affection, the way he kissed his feet. Then Hua Cheng stands up and reaches for the older's neck, unwrapping the bandage that's already come off almost completely, revealing his shackle, his necklace and also the vaguest hint of his past love bite. His breath stutters and he forces himself to look away, crumpling the wet, used bandages in his hand. ]
I'll go prepare a bath. It'll take just a moment. [ He promises. It's indeed barely minutes once his voice comes from the bathroom, beckoning the other. With his powers it's easy to fill the tub and heat up the water, soaps and sundries gathered tidily next to it.
Once Xie Lian steps inside he'll find Hua Cheng looking more improper than usual, more human. The room has gotten quite warm because of the steam and there's color in his cheeks, his robes open on his pale chiseled chest, his hair completely loose without any pin, his bottoms undone to show his underpants underneath. Such heat nearly makes him dizzy, red lips parted on a breath and eyes heavy-lidded until they raise and find his master. Only then they'll smile as he gets up from kneeling next to the tub, checking the temperature. ]
Can I help gege with undressing? Or should I stand behind the screen you made for Xiao Hua while you do? [ He wonders, deep voice low and unwittingly sultry, while long fingers graze along the front most half of his robe, playing with the hem. He's suddenly standing so very close, it would take just a moment to kiss. He thinks about it, mismatched eyes lingering on the other's pink perfect mouth, forgetting for a moment how his thoughts travel swiftly to the older. ]
( "san lang doesn't need to help" dies on xie lian's tongue. enough time alive has helped xie lian to learn and observe in different ways at different paces, all of which culminate from one root point: wanting to do the right thing. what is the right thing with his san lang? not "doesn't need to help", which would perhaps make him feel unwanted or unnecessary, neither of which is true. rather...
xie lian's pink mouth purses thoughtfully for a moment before breaking into a soft smile. )
If San Lang doesn't mind, I would appreciate the help.
( his ears are pinker, rather near red, and his eyes cast down, the flush in his cheeks also a rivaling brightness, but the smile remains as he works at his outermost robe, surprised himself to find his own hands a little shaky. he blinks. what would be the reason? he's not shivering. it is plenty warm in this room, after all. the red string that connects them pulls on xie lian's end like an uptic in a heartbeat, his mind gently overlaid with images of hua cheng close and for a moment all of his senses are both in the present and the night of hua cheng's worship. his head spins. but it isn't unpleasant.
it is a little like stepping and sinking into very hot water, yet the body likes, even needs it, and adjusts, faster than expected. if it seems as though xie lian has spaced out, it is because he has, but he also almost automatically tries to remove his own clothing at the same time hua cheng assists. the result is that their hands brush more than once or twice, and it's like a thrum of heat even warmer than that surrounding them each time.
again, xie lian's heart stumbles. and it's always been interesting to him, whether alone in the dark or blessed in the light of xiao hua's soft warmth, the curious simultaneous truth of overwhelming love making one feel both weak and strong, unparalleled in each.
unconsciously, he turns his head and they are close enough that he can lean against hua cheng's shoulder. he breathes him in as if making certain he's actually there, and through their link though no magic avails from xie lian's side, it might feel like a small sun flooding the other's senses: trust, love.
the invitation to be close, the demonstration of you are always wanted.
even if it makes xie lian himself blush pink to red, it is still true; and, what's more important: he does not want hua cheng to have to question it. even if there are things to work out, the bottom line is unchanging: you are welcome here.
[ Hua Cheng doesn't expect the older to agree, not really, and he's ready for the rejection, enough that he thinks it won't sting, so when permission is actually gifted to him, he goes completely still, mismatched eyes betraying surprise. It's lucky his master isn't looking right at him, but downwards, because it's such a childish expression he feels ashamed of it just a beat after. He only nods, the movements traveling to the tips of his long hair and he draws closer, nervous anticipation twisting in his stomach.
Xie Lian is so beautiful it takes his breath away, especially when he blushes; it's something Hua Cheng noticed all too clearly on the night of his worship, the way that pink hue makes Xie Lian look even more breathtaking, adding almost a delicate quality to his invincible master.
He doesn't know exactly where to start and it's his clumsiness, he believes, that leads to their hands touching, since he can't read the other's movements and what he means to take off himself. Hua Cheng laughs softly, the noise deep and as warm as the steam that's filling the room.
When the older turns and finds him so close, their gazes meet and Hua Cheng gifts him a most adoring smile, before he finds himself short of breath at the flood of love through their link. Is it really all for him...? It is just like those hands were pulling him closer, inviting him to fill the distance, embracing him and threading through his locks. Not close enough; they should be closer, their bond seems to say and Hua Cheng is almost dizzy with happiness. After the torture that was staying away from his prince during these long, cold days, now he can feel the heat of his sunshine on himself again.
Hua Cheng's hand wraps around the other's nape, rubbing into pale skin as it moves to the side and his thumb slips under his chin, to tilt his head up. He kisses his forehead, devoted, and then his temple and between his brows. He kisses below his eyes and his eyelashes, before he exhales a shivering sigh, so deep it comes from his very soul. ]
I missed you... [ He dares confessing on those pink lips, bracketed by red cheeks. They've always been together, but Xie Lian would surely know what he refers to; the near physical pain of gravitating around him and yet further than usual, fighting the irresistible pull to the point of straining.
He leans their foreheads together and smiles at him again, with his eyes too, rubbing his nose along the other's bridge. And yet, he dares not taking that last step and kissing him, like the bleeding wound of perceived rejection hasn't yet closed.
Hands resume their work until white outer layers are pooled on the floor and only the thin inner one remains, the outline of Xie Lian's bottoms showing through the fabric. Hua Cheng sheds all his upper layers as well and he loosens the strings of his pants, enough that they balance haphazardly on his sharp hip bones. It would just take a touch...
That's when he takes Xie Lian's hands and kisses his palms, before putting them on his chest. His silky black hair frames his ghastly pale skin, reaching even below the curve of his behind. ]
I am your San Lang. Your Xiao Hua. Yours. [ Please, he begs through their bond, please claim me. He yearns to be touched, to be felt, after the pain and coldness of distance. Maybe even undressed. Maybe even kissed. ]
( as it is dizzying for hua cheng so too is it dizzying for xie lian, overwhelms him and despite his intrinsic strength, feels weakness in his knees and a stutter in his breath. hua cheng is too generous, but xie lian is not a slow learner; too not accept what he wishes to give equates to rejection or perceived as such. so even though he feels his heart first stop then race as his hands are placed on hua cheng's chest, he does not remove them. instead, hyper aware of both hua cheng's audible tone as well as the sensations through their link, he slides his palms and tapered fingers up along either side of his neck, and then up to his face, cradling him as though he is precious; because he is. )
And I am yours. San Lang. Xiao Hua. ( going up on the fronts of his feet, xie lian dares press a kiss to the corner of hua cheng's mouth where he speaks like a secret and a confession and a promise all at once, ) Hua Cheng. ( for although 'san lang' is his preferred way of called, "true" names have power. it has always been so. they also have meaning. invisible, the red string binding them together may seem to tighten, give even the no-longer living a phantom feeling of breath stolen and a heart beating too fast. perhaps it is the echo of xie lian's own, seeking home inside hua cheng's chest not so different than the ring resting safely against xie lian's own. still almost on his toes, xie lian lowers his face to press it against the side of hua cheng's neck, the blink of his eyes dragging his lashes against his skin damp from the bath's steam. the hands on his face have lowered only so he can loop his arms around his middle instead, which draws their bodies flush.
to have hurt hua cheng, however inadvertently, thinking he was doing the right thing, is still a grave error on his part in his own eyes. to ensure hua cheng feels his love is fully mutual, that he is more than enough for xie lian, the twice shackled fallen will do all he can.
even for one with all luck dispelled, bereft of magic, hua cheng makes him feel quite fortunate. the perhaps too gentle kiss just below his ear is almost contradicted by the deluge of affection that floods their bond, as if xie lian were an unending well of love, and in this moment it is completely given. )
[ Hua Cheng's breath stutters, eyes heavy as he nuzzles into those warm hands much like his cat counterpart, greedy for every warm touch, as if he wanted to make up for all the softness he missed for days in just the matter of a minute. His long fingers are curled around the other's forearms, pale snakes that don't mean to let go ever again, matching Ruoye when the other isn't around.
There's a noise that leaves his parted red lips when Xie Lian echoes his words, for he didn't expect it --it is obvious that he belongs to his master, but for his master to be his...? His fingertips spasm, pressing deeper into smooth flesh and, where Hua Cheng feels the echo of a quick heartbeat and shortness of breath that aren't his own, Xie Lian will receive a sudden tightness of chest, as if his heart was being squeezed, too full of adoration to contain it all. ]
Gege... [ He calls, breathless, at that little kiss, but he finds a noise too akin a husky moan tumbling out of his mouth when his real name is called. He can feel the pleasure of it reverberating through his very bones, making him dizzy to the point he has to close his eyes for a long moment. He's desperately in love, and his body moves on its own, trembling when Xie Lian takes the initiative to hold him and snuggle so close, filling the gap that had been so wide and so cold these long, endless days.
His arms wind around his shoulders, a large hand cradling the back of his head to keep him in place against his neck, keep him warm and safe. He buries his nose in his hair, breathes him in because it's the only oxygen he needs. ] Dianxia...
[ He presses a soft peck to the parting of his locks, but like the one to his ear, it's just the tip of the well; there's an infinite depth of fondness below, poured into his beloved. He could hold him like that forever, melt into him.
He decides to step back only once he feels that Xie Lian's skin is growing increasingly colder; after all the rain they soaked, the contact with Hua Cheng isn't bound to help, for the ghost doesn't carry much warmth.
Just a step between them and the familiar takes his pants off without feigning any modesty. ] I'll step in first and you can fit against me. It's bound to be more comfortable like that. [ He offers cheekily, not waiting for a reply before making it into the small tub and sitting down. Long legs part and he invites the other in like it's the simplest thing in the world. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
( familiar verse | gathering herbs )
Nothing has technically changed ever since that day Hua Cheng lost control on his powers, the shock and misery of having to see a statue of misfortune breaking him despite his years. Yet, his bond with Xie Lian doesn't feel the same anymore. It's like walking on the same path you know, but suddenly the surroundings are blurry, and an unsettling quietness lingers all around. It's not like Xie Lian has been keeping him out, their connection lingers, and yet Hua Cheng cannot reach the same depth, like the other is keeping him at a safe distance.
His familiar cannot blame him, that day is a mixture of fractured memories and instinctive decisions, not necessarily right. He decided to worship Xie Lian and show him how pleasure felt like, given by someone who cares earnestly about him, someone who wants him free of constraints, unlike Jun Wu. But it was a one-sided decision. Xie Lian had never asked.
Maybe Xie Lian thought him out of place, or blasphemous. Maybe Xie Lian loves Jun Wu better than his familiar and would rather follow his teachings, with how long the sovereign has been around his master —he hasn't realized, after all, how many times he'd met Hua Cheng before, in a variety of different faces, and the younger doesn't mean to tell him. Hua Cheng knows that he should be thankful: Xie Lian in his graciousness has decided not to scold or punish him, simply keep him a little further. But he finds himself selfish and he hasn't been able to control the sadness that's infected his mood recently.
He has retreated into his mind, concerned about his every action and how it'll be read, growing if not timid, conscious, self-despisal flared up in return for what he perceives like rejection. He's quiet as his gaze goes through the grass and wild flowers, looking for medicinal ones, not even caring about the drizzle that's growing more insistent by the minute. He hasn't even resorted to magic and his long hair has grown shiny and damp, his red robes darker in a few spots.
His boots jingle at each careful step, until he stops and crouches by a white flower, shielding it with his large hand. It reminds him of a certain someone who's not far, gathering herbs in a basket. He smiles and caresses its petals with a finger, infusing it with magic to ensure its well-being, before he sighs and reaches to pluck closeby dandelions, rubbing wet soil from the roots. His fingers are plenty dirty and smeared with mud by the time he reaches Xie Lian. ]
Gege, I found dandelions for tea. Both flowers and roots. I'm sure you'll be able to trade it easily. [ He smiles sweetly as he places them in the basket, not giving any reaction even as their bond tingles with relief. His gaze sweeps over the thin chain around the other's graceful neck, carrying the ring that he had the older find the day after their shared affection. His master has never taken it off since, despite not knowing its meaning.
Hua Cheng looks down and away, not even catching Xie Lian's eyes despite yearning for it, scared what he'd find there. He asks, obedient and well-behaved: ] What else do you need?
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an unfortunate herb skips the mortar and pestle stage inside of xie lian's closed hand, causes a scattering of dark smudged green on his robes that yet resiliently retain so much white even in the rain. kneeling as he is, head bowed as he sorts the other not-crushed herbs into their own folds of cloth in his basket, the energy of xie lian is a manufactured quiet. his qi unconsciously likens its shape to something as shackled and muted as his magic. the warmest thing on his blood and bone body is the feeling of the ring around his neck, the meaning of which he has not asked of yet, feeling he does not have the right.
the first day after was difficult, a whiplash of back and forth as xie lian's body deeply over sensitized, would spike in heat and stimulation at the tiniest of things: the brush of his clothing against his chest, the nearness of hua cheng's fingertips to his wrist, and so on. mortified in a way he thought he had grown well beyond, xie lian had gone to bed early that day, curled against the wall to hide himself and tried as best he could to learn how to pick-and-choose what came through their link.
he's a quick learner, always has been.
to their detriment, though he doesn't understand fully yet.
what xie lian thinks is protecting hua cheng as well as effectively denying himself (as he should, in his own head), is not that at all.
so for days the distance and careful quiet xie lian has cultivated in the red string between them has been like a constantly blooming bruise across all of hua cheng, pressed on or not depending on how bad, and perhaps worst of all for the familiar, insight into his master is exactly that blurred path: familiar colors, lights, shadows, but nothing concrete. for xie lian, he doesn't realize it either, so focused on trying to not want too much or ask for too much or indeed even let himself recognize his own very new and very distracting physical ache. on the basest level, it is like an animal who has been shown warmth after not in a long time, starving for it now that it has been reminded what it is.
but the statues are and were not ever completely out of hand. once, xie lian did think so; was incensed. these days, he accepts it and carries tendrils of guilt for not being able to do more.
perhaps with hua cheng, he errs on the side of over caution because he fears falling short for him. one should not idolize someone; it will only lead to disappointment. the gentle smile that rests in his expression fractures. ruoye unfurls and slips off his wrist to whisper around his neck before returning to his arm. it causes the bandages around xie lian's neck to part, but he doesn't notice for now, not quite daring to meet hua cheng's gaze either even as his body automatically starts to turn from where he's kneeling in the earth, drawn to him. )
This is good, San Lang. Thank you.
( why does it feel like a shortcoming even to not have something more to ask of him? xie lian's heart feels uncomfortable. heavy. tight. a bond with a familiar is not like one's own magic even if it supports that. especially with xie lian, who has none to speak of, now that his body has accepted from hua cheng already, it pleads for it but xie lian stifles it. in his mind, he has already taken too much. if the day ever comes he can repay him, properly complete their bond as master and familiar, magic like a heart revived, he will. for now, xie lian is just focused on not taking.
as the rain falls a bit harder, he finally does peer up at him, blinking through the wet, gaze catching on hua cheng's hair. automatic, he reaches out to touch some of the shining strands. )
I don't want San Lang to get sick. We should go back. The field will be here after the rain too.
( then he smiles at him, but it feels, most of all, like an apology, underneath even this, all of xie lian's soul and body on the edge of physical pain the same as his familiar for what he denies them, thinking it is the right thing to do. )
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By denying them closeness, Xie Lian is actively choking him, hands around his neck without even realizing. It is torture, but Hua Cheng believes he deserves all pain he gets, especially when it's Xie Lian giving it to him, even on accident. What's more, Hua Cheng has increased his punishment, blocking off his magic, the very same that he poured into his master, the source of the problem. He hasn't used even a drop of it ever since that day, doing everything by hand the way Xie Lian does and with even more effort, for he doesn't own an equally powerful qi.
E'Ming on his neck has been shut, not allowed to show its suffering, together with its owner's, and has turned into a leather collar, much harsher against the skin. The rub has chafed it, reddened and broken it. But it's little price, he knows. He deserves worse, for what he has taken. The way Xie Lian avoids to look at him proves it, together with his distance. It's still seared in his mind, under his skin, the way he curled up so small on the bed the day after, giving him his back like he didn't want to see him anymore. Hua Cheng had wanted to disappear then. He'd laid on the floor that night, undeserving of sharing that bed, of being close again. And he's avoided sleeping ever since.
He tenses up when his hair is touched, relief flooding for a moment their bond, so thick and intense it makes his vision swim for a moment. Please echoes breathlessly in their connection, his soul begging desperately, before he straightens up and looks away from those perfect fingers. He remembers the way they felt tugging onto that very same hair, while he-- ]
San Lang will do as he's told. [ He replies, softly, gaze daring to look up at that smile. It only gives him a pang of pain though, with how sad and apologetic it looks. Hua Cheng has been a shadow of himself, the smug and brazen youth replaced by a meek and obedient one, fearful like that cat rescued on a day of celebrations.
He wouldn't normally get sick just from the rain, but he's as weak as a human with his magic denied both by himself and their bond. Maybe even weaker, since this body isn't technically alive, no beating heart or warm blood. ]
I could still serve gege even sick, it is no issue. [ He reassures him, with a slight tinge of urgency. In this situation, what would happen were he to stop entirely being useful...?
Being chased away would be worse than dying again. ]
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San Lang, I know it isn't conventional, and I apologize. I seem to be in the habit of not doing things how I should, or how is expected.
( his smile is hidden because of his lowered head, rueful. despite trying to protect hua cheng from himself by keeping their bond quiet and controlled, and so closing off certain intuitions, xie lian has a soft hearted advantage of simply caring enough about him regardless. hua cheng reminds him of an injured animal of late, and even more so right now, so xie lian is excruciatingly gentle with his touch, comfort channeled into it with the utmost care, his qi running soothing lines along him as a hand along a cat's back or fingers carded through a person's hair, a palm drawing wide open hearted circles across a broad back, and so on. )
But even if it is typical for a familiar to "serve", I prefer to try us thinking of each other as something more equal. San Lang's well being is important to me, and I neither want you to fall sick nor feel you need to "serve". Or if that is unavoidable, San Lang would need to accept me serving him as well.
( with that, xie lian finally looks up, and this time his smile is a more familiar warmth. ignoring the rain, and anyway at this point they are both drenched, xie lian keeps one hand curved softly over one of hua cheng's, while the other lifts carefully to pause in front of his face as if asking permission, and if it is given, xie lian will fit his palm and long pale tapered fingers against the side of hua cheng's face, gentle gentle gentle. fond. yet firm underneath it all: the heart and the nerve in many storied alignment.
then xie lian's qi wraps around all of hua cheng like a physical embrace of sunlight in the midst of the dark storm: there, there. it is alright. i promise. please help me understand. )
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Hua Cheng breathes out shakily when he feels that familiar qi caress him gently: he hadn't been touched by it ever since it eagerly welcomed his power, that day. His magic ripples, but Hua Cheng's sheer will pushes it back down, almost bowing to the other's qi. Xie Lian could find it unbearable, to be touched by his magic again, could find it dirty.
There's a devil in the back of his mind, who dares scoffing at Xie Lian's words, who dares whispering about what he says doesn't match what he does. Hua Cheng is confused. He thought he was meant to serve, after he had been rejected so obviously. If that is taken from him too, what can he do? He tilts his head, long damp locks following the motion and slipping off his shoulder, raindrops running down his cheeks and chin, like the tears he's unable to shed.
It is that pained confusion that meets the radiant light of the other's smile and his magic surges through him in a sudden wave at the sight of it. It floods him with relief. He trembles violently when qi embraces him, unable to control the way his magic leans into it, daring to touch it back, like two palms, two foreheads resting together. ]
Gege... [ He whispers oh so quiet while tilting his head into his hand, basking into his touch like a cat. He closes his eyes and acts merely on instinct when he presses a peck to his palm, only to realize belatedly and stiffen, timid gaze searching for the other's disgust in hazel eyes. He doesn't hold it for more than a second, looking down soon after. ]
We were equals that day, in each other's arms. There was no serving. I didn't give and dianxia didn't take; we exchanged. [ It takes little imagination to understand what he's talking about, voice jagged like a shard. ] But dianxia was understandably displeased with me. I am unworthy and forgot myself by trying and being dianxia's equal. I can only serve. [ His master has always been too good to him that Hua Cheng forgot his place. What a horrible mistake, he's ruined everything.
Hua Cheng suddenly drops on his knees, like the masked person from a long time ago. Back straight like a soldier's and hands on his thighs, he is in the same pose as the ones who take their own life for honor out of the battlefields. ] I can't accept dianxia serving me, that would be blasphemous. There's only one person you should serve and that's yourself. [ Not even Junwu, his words imply --he's the least worthy, but he cannot mention it, for maybe part of the other's unhappiness with him stems also from the way he dared shooing thoughts of the beloved and revered sorcerer out of Xie Lian's mind. ]
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( there is a sigh in xie lian's voice carried off by the rain, but maybe it does not matter as he lowers himself to the ground, hands reaching out gently to frame hua cheng's face, guiding him to meet his gaze if he is not wholly opposed. though not all of his carefully held walls come down, it is as if xie lian has made a door or a window in himself, and the flow of his qi seeks to invite in whatever magic hua cheng wishes to grace him with, a soothing warmth of a light in the dark that spells safety and something almost secret. meanwhile, xie lian's hands never leave hua cheng's face, just holding him, as if to say: i do not reject you, i am not disappointed, you are the furthest from unworthy.
in truth, it breaks his heart, a feeling he nearly thought he had become sort of dissociated from over centuries.
for xie lian's empathy has been cut open a hundred times, but it has grown back without anything to show for it on his physical body or his magic; as if nothing bad has ever happened to him. the only "proof" is of his shame and exile: shackles banding neck and ankle that xie lian fails to recognize for what they truly are, tied to jun wu as he is. but with hua cheng connection is not a thing of shame. the only matter of ambivalence is that xie lian neither knows how to handle that he lost control — even if hua cheng calls it an exchange, he cannot quite see it that way; he is older, he can sense it, than his familiar, and he has no excuse after the multitudes of situations and years; he should not have succumbed. still. he does not want to disregard hua cheng's genuine perspective either, which brings them here: soaked through to the bone.
except even without magic, xie lian has something left between his qi and ruoye. he lets his qi nudge against hua cheng's magic, as if xie lian is now the cat rubbing between hua cheng's ankles or seeking to nap on his chest and purr in the cadence of a heartbeat. )
San Lang. I was never displeased with you. It was with myself that I was discouraged. But that too was my oversight. I should have just talked with you.
( the smile is self-deprecating, but xie lian gets to his feet again, this time reaching to grasp one of hua cheng's hands with his own. )
Please, we can go back together. I need — no, I want to dry you off before you get sick.
( despite his looks, xie lian's grip is firm, their fingers interlaced.
what xie lian cannot do about the weather, he tries to make up in other ways. if hua cheng allows him, he will find himself flooded with xie lian's qi even more than before, like being warmed from the inside, out. it might even make him feel physically lighter during their walk home (if hua cheng agrees to it, that is.) and if, at some point, xie lian can tell hua cheng won't pull away, his grip will soften just so he can turn his hand enough that his thumb can rub soothingly along hua cheng's knuckles, attempting to reassure him in any conceivable way that he can. they are both drenched and earth muddied, and need baths, but all xie lian is focused on right now is getting them home at all. their foraged things lay forgotten in the grass, but they can be found again anew on a sunnier day. )
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He shivers but it's not the cold, nor the chill that comes with being wet. Rather it's the relief, bordering pleasure of the other's qi rubbing against him, of those hands that hold his face. Hua Cheng relaxes into them, eyelashes fluttering, his cold fingers going to rub at Xie Lian's knuckles.
He gasps softly, his face giving away his surprise when Xie Lian tells him he wasn't displeased with him. The relief that floods him is near solid, like a hug that envelops Xie Lian in return and squeezes him, an echo of thanks reverberating through their bond. ] Did... did gege dislike our closeness so much, that you felt guilty for it? Does something good need a culprit? [ He cannot help wondering, voice soft, giving their entwined fingers a squeeze.
He looks obedient as he gets up, red clothes stained green and muddy, long hair looking like black silk threads, the sheen of water on them. The confession of the other's wish, his want, gives him a shiver. He yearns to fulfill the other's wants and needs, and so he nods, allowing it even if he doesn't like the notion of being looked after, when it should be him giving it all to his master --no, his equal; his other half.
That much qi filling him nearly takes his breath away. It's like being touched all over his skin, Hua Cheng's breathing growing quicker. ] Gege doesn't need to waste so much power on me... [ He glances at him almost pleadingly, for he realizes how much of it is being poured into him. In return, Hua Cheng finally reaches into his magic, thick and warm, like sunlight being cast on Xie Lian, the kiss of warm summer wind in his hair, the whisper of spring in his bones. Hua Cheng merely locked his magic away because he was scared his owner and that qi that had welcomed it didn't want it anymore, but it's still there, aplenty. He won't use it for himself, but he certainly will for Xie Lian. ]
I will have the herbs gathered. [ He promises, for his magic can go and take care of it, as soon as they step past the threshold of home. ] I will prepare a hot bath, gege needs to warm up. [ He offers softly, like he doesn't. His bond betrays him though, the craving for closeness translating into the picture of them sharing the tub, even if on opposite sides, poured right into the other's mind. ]
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It's not a waste at all. ( he does not bother telling hua cheng he needn't. he knows it would be a disservice to him to deny him of that act, and now that hua cheng is permitting both xie lian and himself awareness of his magic again, less fearful of having done wrong or not enough, xie lian can at least tell he doesn't lack for it. in fact, he thinks he has not met a single individual with as much magic as hua cheng seems to contain. it makes xie lian shiver with warmth, a heady feeling.
when he wonders how long it took him to cultivate, unexpectedly that thought's path strikes him in his heart like a physical loneliness augmented by unknown years, so visceral it seems to be his own but it's displaced in time and setting. it makes him stumble, but they are already inside his home so it's easy for him to reach out a hand to steady himself against the table.
for half a second there are even ripple sentiments coming from that darkness and it almost reminds xie lian of a time he would rather not think of — his fingers scraped raw and bleeding as he wondered if anyone could come to him in that dark, quiet place; so he doesn't.
instead, he lets his trembling fingers curl in his long, soaked sleeve, smiling at hua cheng as he says, )
San Lang needs to warm up as well.
( the image of them bathing together returns, this time given from xie lian's side, but it is expanded upon: both of them on the same side of the tub, small as it is anyway, xie lian behind hua cheng as he gently brushes his hair free of any tangles, a probable prelude to washing it.
around xie lian's neck, the bandages he usually uses to conceal the shackle there have come messy and unspooled, hanging in sad clinging fashion to his collarbones and stuck further down to the damp of his robe as all wet fabric is wont to do. ruoye has detached itself, soothed by the reconnection of master and familiar but still a little anxious, hovering next to xie lian with what can only be read as worry. )
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Is gege okay? [ He asks softly, realizing how close he is only when his breath makes the other's locks sway. He can't let go now, since he's supporting him, but he feels conscious, still unsure whether such closeness is allowed. His doubt is quieted by the image that spreads in his mind, enlarging like a drop of ink on wet paper, until it fills the whole of it and Hua Cheng loves it.
He smiles sheepishly, letting go of the other slowly now that he's sure he'll stand. His other half wants to bathe with him, wants to be close, wants to care for him: the heat that expands in his still heart will surely bleed over Xie Lian's as well, together with thick feeling of contentment.
Hua Cheng crouches down on the floor, gentle fingers, warm because of the other's qi, touching his ankles and holding them while his opposite hand removes his shoes. It's a gesture that brings with it a flash of their shared affection, the way he kissed his feet. Then Hua Cheng stands up and reaches for the older's neck, unwrapping the bandage that's already come off almost completely, revealing his shackle, his necklace and also the vaguest hint of his past love bite. His breath stutters and he forces himself to look away, crumpling the wet, used bandages in his hand. ]
I'll go prepare a bath. It'll take just a moment. [ He promises. It's indeed barely minutes once his voice comes from the bathroom, beckoning the other. With his powers it's easy to fill the tub and heat up the water, soaps and sundries gathered tidily next to it.
Once Xie Lian steps inside he'll find Hua Cheng looking more improper than usual, more human. The room has gotten quite warm because of the steam and there's color in his cheeks, his robes open on his pale chiseled chest, his hair completely loose without any pin, his bottoms undone to show his underpants underneath. Such heat nearly makes him dizzy, red lips parted on a breath and eyes heavy-lidded until they raise and find his master. Only then they'll smile as he gets up from kneeling next to the tub, checking the temperature. ]
Can I help gege with undressing? Or should I stand behind the screen you made for Xiao Hua while you do? [ He wonders, deep voice low and unwittingly sultry, while long fingers graze along the front most half of his robe, playing with the hem. He's suddenly standing so very close, it would take just a moment to kiss. He thinks about it, mismatched eyes lingering on the other's pink perfect mouth, forgetting for a moment how his thoughts travel swiftly to the older. ]
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xie lian's pink mouth purses thoughtfully for a moment before breaking into a soft smile. )
If San Lang doesn't mind, I would appreciate the help.
( his ears are pinker, rather near red, and his eyes cast down, the flush in his cheeks also a rivaling brightness, but the smile remains as he works at his outermost robe, surprised himself to find his own hands a little shaky. he blinks. what would be the reason? he's not shivering. it is plenty warm in this room, after all. the red string that connects them pulls on xie lian's end like an uptic in a heartbeat, his mind gently overlaid with images of hua cheng close and for a moment all of his senses are both in the present and the night of hua cheng's worship. his head spins. but it isn't unpleasant.
it is a little like stepping and sinking into very hot water, yet the body likes, even needs it, and adjusts, faster than expected. if it seems as though xie lian has spaced out, it is because he has, but he also almost automatically tries to remove his own clothing at the same time hua cheng assists. the result is that their hands brush more than once or twice, and it's like a thrum of heat even warmer than that surrounding them each time.
again, xie lian's heart stumbles. and it's always been interesting to him, whether alone in the dark or blessed in the light of xiao hua's soft warmth, the curious simultaneous truth of overwhelming love making one feel both weak and strong, unparalleled in each.
unconsciously, he turns his head and they are close enough that he can lean against hua cheng's shoulder. he breathes him in as if making certain he's actually there, and through their link though no magic avails from xie lian's side, it might feel like a small sun flooding the other's senses: trust, love.
the invitation to be close, the demonstration of you are always wanted.
even if it makes xie lian himself blush pink to red, it is still true; and, what's more important: he does not want hua cheng to have to question it. even if there are things to work out, the bottom line is unchanging: you are welcome here.
with me. )
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Xie Lian is so beautiful it takes his breath away, especially when he blushes; it's something Hua Cheng noticed all too clearly on the night of his worship, the way that pink hue makes Xie Lian look even more breathtaking, adding almost a delicate quality to his invincible master.
He doesn't know exactly where to start and it's his clumsiness, he believes, that leads to their hands touching, since he can't read the other's movements and what he means to take off himself. Hua Cheng laughs softly, the noise deep and as warm as the steam that's filling the room.
When the older turns and finds him so close, their gazes meet and Hua Cheng gifts him a most adoring smile, before he finds himself short of breath at the flood of love through their link. Is it really all for him...? It is just like those hands were pulling him closer, inviting him to fill the distance, embracing him and threading through his locks. Not close enough; they should be closer, their bond seems to say and Hua Cheng is almost dizzy with happiness. After the torture that was staying away from his prince during these long, cold days, now he can feel the heat of his sunshine on himself again.
Hua Cheng's hand wraps around the other's nape, rubbing into pale skin as it moves to the side and his thumb slips under his chin, to tilt his head up. He kisses his forehead, devoted, and then his temple and between his brows. He kisses below his eyes and his eyelashes, before he exhales a shivering sigh, so deep it comes from his very soul. ]
I missed you... [ He dares confessing on those pink lips, bracketed by red cheeks. They've always been together, but Xie Lian would surely know what he refers to; the near physical pain of gravitating around him and yet further than usual, fighting the irresistible pull to the point of straining.
He leans their foreheads together and smiles at him again, with his eyes too, rubbing his nose along the other's bridge. And yet, he dares not taking that last step and kissing him, like the bleeding wound of perceived rejection hasn't yet closed.
Hands resume their work until white outer layers are pooled on the floor and only the thin inner one remains, the outline of Xie Lian's bottoms showing through the fabric. Hua Cheng sheds all his upper layers as well and he loosens the strings of his pants, enough that they balance haphazardly on his sharp hip bones. It would just take a touch...
That's when he takes Xie Lian's hands and kisses his palms, before putting them on his chest. His silky black hair frames his ghastly pale skin, reaching even below the curve of his behind. ]
I am your San Lang. Your Xiao Hua. Yours. [ Please, he begs through their bond, please claim me. He yearns to be touched, to be felt, after the pain and coldness of distance. Maybe even undressed. Maybe even kissed. ]
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And I am yours. San Lang. Xiao Hua. ( going up on the fronts of his feet, xie lian dares press a kiss to the corner of hua cheng's mouth where he speaks like a secret and a confession and a promise all at once, ) Hua Cheng. ( for although 'san lang' is his preferred way of called, "true" names have power. it has always been so. they also have meaning. invisible, the red string binding them together may seem to tighten, give even the no-longer living a phantom feeling of breath stolen and a heart beating too fast. perhaps it is the echo of xie lian's own, seeking home inside hua cheng's chest not so different than the ring resting safely against xie lian's own. still almost on his toes, xie lian lowers his face to press it against the side of hua cheng's neck, the blink of his eyes dragging his lashes against his skin damp from the bath's steam. the hands on his face have lowered only so he can loop his arms around his middle instead, which draws their bodies flush.
to have hurt hua cheng, however inadvertently, thinking he was doing the right thing, is still a grave error on his part in his own eyes. to ensure hua cheng feels his love is fully mutual, that he is more than enough for xie lian, the twice shackled fallen will do all he can.
even for one with all luck dispelled, bereft of magic, hua cheng makes him feel quite fortunate. the perhaps too gentle kiss just below his ear is almost contradicted by the deluge of affection that floods their bond, as if xie lian were an unending well of love, and in this moment it is completely given. )
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There's a noise that leaves his parted red lips when Xie Lian echoes his words, for he didn't expect it --it is obvious that he belongs to his master, but for his master to be his...? His fingertips spasm, pressing deeper into smooth flesh and, where Hua Cheng feels the echo of a quick heartbeat and shortness of breath that aren't his own, Xie Lian will receive a sudden tightness of chest, as if his heart was being squeezed, too full of adoration to contain it all. ]
Gege... [ He calls, breathless, at that little kiss, but he finds a noise too akin a husky moan tumbling out of his mouth when his real name is called. He can feel the pleasure of it reverberating through his very bones, making him dizzy to the point he has to close his eyes for a long moment. He's desperately in love, and his body moves on its own, trembling when Xie Lian takes the initiative to hold him and snuggle so close, filling the gap that had been so wide and so cold these long, endless days.
His arms wind around his shoulders, a large hand cradling the back of his head to keep him in place against his neck, keep him warm and safe. He buries his nose in his hair, breathes him in because it's the only oxygen he needs. ] Dianxia...
[ He presses a soft peck to the parting of his locks, but like the one to his ear, it's just the tip of the well; there's an infinite depth of fondness below, poured into his beloved. He could hold him like that forever, melt into him.
He decides to step back only once he feels that Xie Lian's skin is growing increasingly colder; after all the rain they soaked, the contact with Hua Cheng isn't bound to help, for the ghost doesn't carry much warmth.
Just a step between them and the familiar takes his pants off without feigning any modesty. ] I'll step in first and you can fit against me. It's bound to be more comfortable like that. [ He offers cheekily, not waiting for a reply before making it into the small tub and sitting down. Long legs part and he invites the other in like it's the simplest thing in the world. ]