Chapter Text
It is staggering how fast one gets used to good things.
Xie Lian does not startle when strong arms envelop him from behind and pull him gently against a deliciously cool body. With a content, quiet hum, he lolls his head back over Hua Cheng's shoulder, smiling lazily. Hua Cheng smells so happy he can practically taste it in his mouth.
“San Lang, hi.”
"Hi, gege. What did I miss?"
What could have Hua Cheng missed in the measly couple of hours that he spent away in Ghost City? Nothing, of course. Xie Lian had swept up the shrine, did the washing, listened to prayers, accepted a large basket of vegetables by a group from the village, and got started on lunch. He didn't even have time to properly clean up the shrine, and Hua Cheng was already back.
And yet, for every moment he was gone, Xie Lian had felt his abscence achingly. He couldn't be back soon enough. "Nothing much,” he replies, casually, for everything is alright now that Hua Cheng is here, and sparing words for the before would be a waste. “How is Ghost City?"
"The same as always," Hua Cheng says in a low voice. "Minor trouble, it's not worth gege's attention. The trash are asking for gege, though, wanting to know when he'll be back."
Xie Lian has to laugh. Trash is Hua Cheng’s way of affectionately referring to his citizens, who are rightfully attached to him, and now Xie Lian—being their Grand Uncle, according to them—also occupies a spot of reverence. "That's sweet. It has already been a month since my last visit, en? I could come over one of these days, if it is convenient."
Hua Cheng replies in a decidedly sulky tone, though still soft, "Gege is entirely too good to those worthless ghosts." Xie Lian snorts and squeezes one of the hands Hua Cheng has wrapped around him placatingly. The ghost king hums, then follows up, now pensive, "So, gege says it has already been a month."
"Mhm, yes, hasn't it? I recall San Lang and I went to see a play during the previous full moon." It was a naturally crass but surprisingly poetic drama by a group of headless ghosts in one of the tiny theaters at the outskirts of Ghost City, featuring lovers separated by circumstance and reunited by sheer will, defeating fate. They were losing their heads in excitement when they saw Hua Cheng and him take a seat in the backrow. Well, not literally.
Hua Cheng makes a soft noise. “The message of their little play had some merit,” he says slowly. “But gege, if you recall, that’s not the only thing we did during that full moon…”
“Ah.” A month ago, isn't it? A month means…
Hua Cheng's arms squeeze him around the middle before he mutters into his neck, the warmth of his breath making him shiver, “Gege, I could smell the scent of kumquat lemons and peaches all the way from the front gate.”
Xie Lian feels himself flush from head to toe, still not used to his body sending messages without his knowledge or permission. At the very least, time is now also a reliable indicator—with Hua Cheng's thorough and most careful assistance, in no time, his heat became a monthly occurence, like for kunze at the very peak of their fertility. He was past that by almost a millennia.
It should have been bothersome, isn’t it? But a heat once a month meant a couple days a month in Hua Cheng's company, entirely without a break. Though with how tirelessly the ghost king took care of him, a couple days was sometimes shortened to only a day; Hua Cheng did not need to sleep or eat or even breathe, as he took to so graciously reminding him, and was much harder to exhaust than Xie Lian, so he was there to satisfy Xie Lian's needs even after a certain point where he could do nothing but make pitiful noises and claw at Hua Cheng's back. Of course, his heats being shorter meant less pain, and Hua Cheng was easily persuaded to stay in bed even after Xie Lian's heat was long gone, spending their time cuddling and talking like on any other evening they spent together, which always made Xie Lian feel better about the entire ordeal.
He felt sometimes that those moments, being in Hua Cheng's bed with Hua Cheng in it, surrounded by softness and the scent of the two of them, is the closest he has ever gotten to having a nest.
So, he has been selfishly monopolising the ghost king's time each month for over a year now, and still, he still cannot keep his composure when Hua Cheng brings attention to the obvious. It is just such an embarrassing thing to confess, being pre-heat! Still, he knows there is no reason to lose face; between mating cycle companions, even if somewhat one-sided ones, such things need to be said.
He quickly returns his attention to the pot boiling before him, and stirs its contents twice before he manages to gather himself enough to answer. “Ah, that…! I wanted to tell San Lang, but I haven't had the time yet. My heat is probably going to arrive sometime in the next few days.”
“I see. Thank you for letting me know, gege,” Hua Cheng says, and presses a featherlight kiss to the shell of his ear, like he is rewarding him for telling him so nicely. That one kiss is enough to make Xie Lian’s lower belly feel all funny, and he shivers against Hua Cheng. Oh, with the ghost king here, his heat might just burst through the door any second after all, and wouldn't that be even more embarrassing!
“San Lang…”
“Mmm, gege, I’m here. Shall I prepare the room in Paradise Manor for gege’s arrival? Unless gege would like to spend it here this time? He’s always welcome at mine, but I wouldn't want to assume.”
Puqi shrine is just fine for the purpose of their activities, and still, Xie Lian asks to be taken to Paradise Manor each time that his heat comes around. Though Xie Lian would burst into flames confessing it, it has to do with Hua Cheng’s scent of cherry, dark chocolate and carnation flowers having soaked into the very walls of his residence.
Scents had never played a significant part in his life, especially as his lifestyle post-banishment led to his secondary gender traits falling dormant. On the road, always surrounded by strangers, one could not expect to be surrounded by scents signalling safety, and Xie Lian long stopped to. But meeting has Hua Cheng rekindled a certain fire in him.
“I think I’d prefer Paradise Manor this time as well,” Xie Lian says, not going into detail.
He can feel Hua Cheng's smile against the side of his head. "Then, in two days." After all this time, Hua Cheng is much better at predicting the exact start of Xie Lian's heat, entirely based on his scent. If he says it is two days, then it is most definitely two days, Xie Lian mostly even stopped being embarrassed about it. "I'll come over, and we can go together."
"No need! I have your dice, don't I, San Lang? No need to bother."
"It is no bother," Hua Cheng says in a gentle manner that truly makes it sound as if it isn't, impossible to argue with, and finally lets go of him, stepping back. "I like coming over for gege." He peers at the dark orange contents of Xie Lian's pot, casual, and makes an approving sound. "Smells delicious. Shall I set the table, gege?"
“Thank you,” Xie Lian says, a little breathless, to both his kindness and his praise. If Hua Cheng says it is not a bother, then it is surely not... perhaps he can repay a sliver of his kindness by feeding him today? He makes a shooing motion. “No need to set the table, you just sit down! I made this stew with you in mind, taking all of your advcie into consideration. San Lang is my guest today.”
“Is that so? I am gege’s guest?” Xie Lian is sure he is not imagining the pleased edge in Hua Cheng’s voice; looking up, he finds Hua Cheng leaning against the counter, already watching him with a mischievous smile, one of his hands playing with the red bead at the end of his braid, rolling it between his fingertips back and forth, the motion eerily familiar. “Then, I will be most courteous and respectful, as long as gege promises to spoil me.”
Xie Lian, in an attempt to hide his face and occupy his hands with something, bends down to rummage around for two bowls by the lower shelves. “San Lang, ah, please just sit down...”
Hua Cheng laughs, and takes mercy on him, leaving the kitchen. Xie Lian leans over the counter and does his best to banish the butterflies from his stomach.
He is free to kiss Hua Cheng during his heat, but by the heavens it isn't the only time he is tempted. He finds the will to load two bowls to the brim, and goes into the main body of the shrine to present it to Hua Cheng, who, despite his teasing request to be spoiled, does his outmost to make Xie Lian feel spoiled rotten by his endless strings of praises.
Xie Lian is very much not complaining.
Two days pass in the blink of an eye, and find Xie Lian sitting in lotus position by the stream behind Puqi shrine, meditating. Moving around is difficult, this close to his heat, but he needs to pass the time with something until Hua Cheng's arrival, otherwise he'll start rearranging everything inside his shrine, and he'll work himself into a frenzy over things not being just right. The art of nesting is something he has still not gotten the hang of. So he forces himself still.
A tiny bird comes to rest on top of a rock before him, hardly a cun of space between them, and sips from the tiny indent which the stream has filled with water. Xie Lian blinks open one eye to watch it.
Your Highness, comes Feng Xin's voice from his head, and Xie Lian sighs inwardly. There's no hope of Feng Xin calling him anything else but that.
Yes?
Are you busy?
The little bird, momentarily done with drinking, steps into the indent. It hops around once, twice, its feathers poofing up and its body shivering in pleasure as it bathes.
Xie Lian is not currently busy. Not right now. Why?
Well, I've ran into some trouble, to be honest. Nothing major, but— that smartass Mu Qing refuses to come help. Could you…?
Feng Xin very rarely, if ever, asks help. Xie Lian clicks his tongue, and the bird, alarmed, takes flight, wings fluttering loudly. I can come, but I can only stay for a little bit. An incense time, at most. Is that enough time?
If His Highness is busy, I can manage—
I'm meeting Hua Cheng in a bit, but I have some time until then. Feng Xin, just send me where you are.
Feng Xin is quiet for a moment. Are you sure—
Feng Xin.
At last, he finally sends his location. Xie Lian stands, feeling his abdomen cramp, but he grits his teeth and straightens up, turning towards his shrine to gather the materials for a distance shortening array. I can be there in a moment.
…Thank you. Your Highness, bring your sword, too. It's probably at least a wrath level ghost.
Though Xie Lian feels weak, and plenty cranky, he tries to radiate reassurance through the spiritual communication array. Will do. You just hold on! Feng Xin does not say anything else, noticably embarrased over having to ask for help. Xie Lian thinks it is sweet of him in his time of need, even if the timing is inconvenient. Though their friendship will never be the same thing and Xie Lian has no desire for it to be the same, it feels good that Feng Xin still feels he can turn to him.
Xie Lian decides against sending a message to Hua Cheng. He'll be done in a few minutes, hopefully, so bothering him with news of a little errand is superflous. Besides, he will definitely be back before the ghost king arrives. He won't even know he was gone.
He does not, in the end, arrive back before Hua Cheng.
Stepping out in a little clearing through the distance shortening array, Xie Lian finds a red-faced Feng Xin stuck in a thick web between two sycamore trees, a large, hairy ghost perched before him, with too many arms to count. When Xie Lian sends Ruoye shooting out at it, the ghost sticks it to the side of a tree with the flick of its head and turns its many eyes at him.
Xie Lian unseathes his sword. The spider ghost hisses, its barbels flashing red, and lunges. Xie Lian meets its attack head-on, pushing it back an entire zhang with a thrust of his sword.
"Watch out! This fucker's web dims your spiritual powers if it touches you," Feng Xin bellows, straining against the web. Watching from the corner of his eye, it seems to Xie Lian the more he moves, the more entangled he seems to become. "Otherwise I would have already sent it up in flames!"
"Were you already caught in that web when we spoke?" Xie Lian asks, curious. If the answer is yes, it only speaks of Feng Xin's admirable composure.
Feng Xin curses, and does not answer. "Keep distracting it, I'll get out in a bit!"
The fight goes well, for the most part. Xie Lian can make himself immune to his own discomfort when he so wishes, so even as his breathing begins to turn laboured and his underrobe grows wet, he does not let a single limb of the spider demon touch him. He meets each of its strike with the dull end of his blade, changing its position in the air in split seconds. All of the demon’s claws fall off his blade harmlessly.
The ghost makes a gurgling sound, seemingly having grown frustrated with their fight being drawn out, and starts spitting at him and lashing out with reckless abandon, not watching its flank. Xie Lian repays its impatience with cutting off two of its limbs with a single trust of his blade. The demon shrieks and jumps back, putting several zhang of distance between them.
“Good job, get the fucker!” Feng Xin shouts, overjoyed. Glancing over, Xie Lian can see he has finally freed one of his hands, which is now curled in a celebratory fist.
Xie Lian can feel a tremor slowly but steadily settle into his hands. Oh, this is why he has been grateful for his heats ending; what a nuisance. Without Hua Cheng around, it is truly only pain. “Do you want me to slay it? What did it do?”
"It has been stealing and eating people from more than fifteen villages, that's what it did,” Feng Xin says with a grumble. “If it's hunting mortals, I do not understand why the fuck does its web has anti-spritiual energy properties.”
Xie Lian watches the spider demon slather its own side with the liquid dripping from its mouth, putting a stop to its gooey, bluish-green blood from escaping the wound. Then it raises its head, gazing at him with a positively malicious look. “Perhaps it has encountered heavenly officials before,” Xie Lian says. It certainly seems to have the agenda.
With its wound covered, the demon begins to walk very slowly, circling him, finally leaving Feng Xin in the open; more than likely on purpose. It does not count with it not mattering to Xie Lian—he readies himself. “Shrink back, I’ll cut you out!”
“Your Highness, watch out—!” Xie Lian jumps and lands besides Feng Xin just as the ghost pounces again, and twirls on his toes as he cuts him cleanly out, raising his sword against any more attacks from the demon. Feng Xin drops on the ground like a bag of rocks, making a pitiful sound.
“Fuck, I’m still all stuck together,” Feng Xin wheezes, trying and failing to get to his feet. Xie Lian keeps his eyes on the demon as it prepares for another attack.
“Are you alright?”
“Not sure, I’m feeling a little warm. The web might have other side effects too, fuck. This demon annoys the hell out of me.” Another wheeze, and based on the sounds, Feng Xin, through arduous effort, gets himself in a sitting position. “Fuck, but it smells sweet in here. Like peaches and… Wait. Your Highness—?!”
The demon attacks again, but Xie Lian knocks it away with a merciless strike of his sword, refusing to let it entrap Feng Xin again. “Yes, it’s what you’re thinking,” he says. “That’s why I said I have little time.”
“Why didn't you tell me?!” Feng Xin yells, just shy of hysterical. “I wouldn't have dragged you out of here if I’d known!”
Xie Lian sighs in exasperation, feeling sweat bead on his brow. “It’s fine, it's fine, I was the one who came. It’s only just starting, besides. Concentrate on getting out of the web.”
“It’s not fine! Your Highness, you—!”
The demon is visibly becoming more and more agitated, pacing back and forth and seething, but seemingly unwilling to attack directly anymore. Xie Lian watches it double over all of a sudden, its back shaking in a strange manner, making the long hairs on its body dance. It is like it is hacking up something. “What is it doing?”
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I swear if I’d known! Mu Qing always leaves at the worst possible time—oh fuck it’s making more of its web balls.”
Xie Lian frowns, gripping the handle of his sword tighter. “Web balls?”
“There was one in each of its hands when I found it, it was impossible to avoid. Your Highness, don’t let it touch you!”
So Xie Lian has likely time until it makes a ball for each of its hands. It wouldn't be too bad to ambush it while it is in this state, and have Ruoye bind its mouth. Unfortunately Ruoye is still stuck, moving wildly against the tree it was pinned to, coating itself thoroughly in the web’s sticky liquid in its mindless trashing. Xie Lian sighs inwardly, lamenting how long it’ll take to wash it all out of Ruoye.
The realisation that his legs are very much shaking comes sluggishly; it appears he is reaching his breaking point. Right now he so badly just wants to lie down and call for Hua Cheng, like a spoiled prince calling for his knight in shining armor. Instead he straightens up, breathes out slowly. He can deal with this. Hasn’t he dealt with much worse in the past?
He takes one half-step towards it, and immediately the demon jumps in the air, abandoning its previous task. Its barbels flash red again, and there comes another awful gurgling sound from its throat, which Xie Lian now knows means it's preparing its spit. Keeping his eyes in the air, Xie Lian sidesteps the web flying towards him with ease, and promptly loses his balance on his own foot, faceplanting on the ground.
Well.
Feng Xin bellows from a little distance away, “Your Highness!”
Too exhausted to even try to crawl out of the way, Xie Lian resigns himself to his apparent fate to be entrapped in sticky goo while his body is consumed by heat. Instead, a wet sound claps above his head, raining green liquid around him, followed by two heavy thuds, and a familiar, all-encompassing presence. The tension in Xie Lian’s spine magically eases as he sucks in a mouthful of Hua Cheng’s scent.
Xie Lian raises his head to the sight of a swarm of glittering butterflies. “San Lang!”
Immediately, he is being lifted and cradled by ever gentle hands as if he weighed nothing at all, and Hua Cheng’s concerned expression swims into view, his handsome brows pulled together to form a crease in the middle. He feels strongly that his pretty San Lang should never look so worried over anything. “Gege! What happened?”
“Just came to help out,” Xie Lian says simply. Being at last so close to Hua Cheng, he cannot wipe the giddy grin from his face. The discomfort in his body does not disappear, but when he is with Hua Cheng, nothing quite hurts. “Thank you for saving me, San Lang.”
“Of course,” Hua Cheng says, but his eye flashes somewhere beyond Xie Lian, the emotion indiscernible. “He asked you to come here?”
The man in question quips up. “Your Highness! Are you okay?”
“I am,” Xie Lian says, for Hua Cheng is here, how could he not? But he does not miss the miniscule twitch of the ghost king’s mouth. He smiles sheepishly at Hua Cheng. “Sorry I wasn't at Puqi shrine when you arrived. It was an emergency.”
“It’s okay, gege,” Hua Cheng replies, sincere and low, though the dip between his brows is still there. Xie Lian’s eyes drift to the butterflies swarming in the air behind them, as if there was still danger. Hua Cheng is obviously agitated. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m—fine. Okay.” His eyes skirt to Feng Xin situated somewhere behind Hua Cheng, and lowering his voice to a whisper, adds, “I don't think it’s full-blown yet.”
Hua Cheng shakes his head, agreeing, though his hands tighten protectively around Xie Lian, before reaching up to brush his hand over his cheek. Xie Lian feels the gentle trickle of his spiritual energy entering his meridians. Hua Cheng is healing him.
“There’s no need! I’m feeling fine, San Lang.”
“Your face is bruised, gege,” Hua Cheng says, voice just short of desperate. “Please, allow me.” Xie Lian sighs, closing his eyes without conscious decision. It is pretty nice; he did not even notice how overheated his body had been; receiving Hua Cheng’s qi is like letting rain fall and extinguish the fire ravaging his insides. He melts into it.
Above him, Hua Cheng continues to speak. “Paradise Manor is ready for gege’s arrival. We can leave as soon as you say the word.”
“Well, if the ghost is dead, we can—” not needing more than that, one of Hua Cheng’s hands snake under his knees and raise him in the air. Xie Lian yelps, winding his arms around Hua Cheng’s neck. He can’t help but sigh, letting his head drop against Hua Cheng’s collarbone as he begins to walk.
It’s all fine now.
“Wait! Your Highness! Crimson Rain!” Hua Cheng comes to a standstill, but he does not turn them around. Xie Lian peers up at the ghost king, at the tight line of his mouth and jaw.
Xie Lian calls out tentatively to Feng Xin, “Yes?”
“I’m sorry I called you out today! If I’d known— fuck, of course I wouldn't have bothered you.”
“Just thank him, won’t you?” Hua Cheng replies, his voice cold. “Instead of asking for forgiveness, show some gratitude.”
Feng Xin grumbles something, but with the way Xie Lian rests his head against Hua Cheng, he cannot hear. He is not straining himself too much, either. On the other hand, whatever Hua Cheng hears makes him ever so slightly stiffen.
At this point, Xie Lian wants nothing more than to leave. He sighs. “It’s fine, Feng Xin, I told you, didn’t I? It was no bother.”
Hua Cheng huffs, so quiet Xie Lian would have definitely missed it if he wasn't plastered to him. He caresses the side of his neck, soothing, and Hua Cheng leans into his touch, though still not quite relaxing.
“Will you be able to get out of the web on your own?”
“Now that the demon is dead, it should disintegrate on its own,” Feng Xin says, though Xie Lian can hear him move around and curse under his breath. “…Thank you, Your Highness. You, get better,” he adds slowly, his delivery making it clear it is extremely awkward for him to get out even this much. Xie Lian would laugh, if he wasn’t burning up with heat fever. Instead, a sudden painful cramp makes him jolt in Hua Cheng’s arms.
Hua Cheng apparently decides that's enough, because he begins to walk away again without a word. “Crimson Rain! You take care of him, you hear?!”
“I intend to,” Hua Cheng replies, for some reason pressing the I, but at that point Xie Lian is too busy melting into his arms to think about anything, sighing happily into his robes. Something clatters on the ground, and Xie Lian, his face buried in Hua Cheng’s robes, feels the cool outside air be exchanged with the warm, comforting scents of Paradise Manor.
A moment later he is being gently placed down on a soft surface. Xie Lian stretches out happily on Hua Cheng’s bed like a cat in a patch of sunlight.
“San Lang, thank you,” he mumbles, already reaching for him blindly. Instead of being smothered by the ghost king, though, he is only able to encircle his wrist. With great difficulty, he blinks open his eyes to find Hua Cheng watching him with a complicated expression, the dip still stubbornly stuck between his brows.
Xie Lian makes a questioning sound, curling in on himself a little. He is not used to Hua Cheng keeping distance, and it unsettles him. He is immediately struck with a sense of wrongness. “San Lang?”
“Gege… right now, you want to be here, with me?”
Xie Lian's mouth drops open a little in incredulity. Is Hua Cheng… asking for confirmation? “Where else would I want to be?”
“If gege would have preferred staying, he can tell me,” Hua Cheng urges, though his voice is unnaturally emotionless and the rigid way he is standing by the edge of his own bed is beyond strange. Xie Lian does not understand what is happening; what does Hua Cheng mean by stay? Stay at Puqi Shrine? They have talked about coming to Paradise Manor, haven't they? Or perhaps stay with the corpse of that spider demon? Why would Xie Lian want such a thing?
“San Lang, I don't understand…” he says, his voice becoming embarrassingly whiny. If he reaches out again and Hua Cheng will still not approach, he might cry a little, and he very much does not want to show such a pathetic display. “I want to be at Paradise Manor, with you.”
Infinitesimally, the tension seems to seep from Hua Cheng's shoulders, though his mouth seems too thin. “If gege is sure… ”
“I'm sure! San Lang, won't you come here?” Finally, finally, the ghost king climbs on the bed and falls into his arms. Xie Lian sighs into the embrace, twisting his hands into the other man's robes until he has fistfuls of it and inhaling his scent. Hua Cheng shivers in his arms, and impossibly, continues speaking in that strangely distant tone against his neck.
“It's only that I dragged gege away so abruptly…” he says. Xie Lian makes a sound, prompting him to continue, but he cannot stop himself from pressing a kiss against the cool, velvety skin where shoulder meets neck. Hua Cheng sighs, and Xie Lian does not miss the noticeable shift in his scent. “I… would never enforce my will on gege.”
Isn't that obvious? There is no one more polite and thoughtful than Hua Cheng in all the three realms, no one more kind and selfless. “San Lang is the best,” Xie Lian says, and somewhere he curses himself and his mating cycle that he cannot be more present for this conversation; unfortunately, his mind is filled with nothing but a sharp, insistent need. He guides his hands until he is holding the ghost king's face and is meeting the gaze of a strangely bright eye. “San Lang is… I want San Lang. Do you want me? I need you… San Lang, how can I make you believe me?”
For a moment, Hua Cheng still, looking into his eyes. Then he crashes forward, and Xie Lian savors the faint sting of a fang against his lips. “I believe gege,” he says between kisses. “I want you too, gege…”
Xie Lian answers with a satisfied hum that reverberates all across his spine, and reassured, melts into his heat.
He knows soemwhere in the back of his head that he did not fully manage to dispel Hua Cheng’s anxiety; he had no chance to properly apologise for causing him trouble either. It is also true, that around the middle of it, Xie Lian all but forgets about the entire spider demon business, and gives himself fully over to Hua Cheng’s selfless providence. All worry, as well as time, burns into nothingness in the space between their bodies.
What matters is the here and now.
For the innumerable time, the delicious grind of Hua Cheng's cock so deep inside punches out a high-pitched moan from his throat, and he sobs into the bedding.
“San, hah, Lang, San Lang,” Xie Lian whines, clutching onto the sheets for dear life. Hua Cheng's scent wash over him soothingly, even as he rocks into him once more. Xie Lian feels Hua Cheng's lips brush against his shoulder blade, the touch feather light and gentle. He is tuned to his every twitch and jolt; knows him better than Xie Lian knows his own body.
“What would gege like?” Hua Cheng asks, voice a sonorous rumble. Xie Lian pushes back against his cock, catches the beginnings of a knot on his rim, and cries out.
“Inside, ah, inside! I want it inside, San Lang, please!” he begs, drool and saliva dripping down his chin. Somewhere in the back of his head he's grateful they have chosen this position, because Hua Cheng can't see what a mess he is being today, heat or not. Begging for Hua Cheng’s knot as if he won't give it to him; the ghost king has always given to him whatever he asked for, endlessly selfless and kind.
Xie Lian is so lucky to have him as a friend. Did he ever tell him, how grateful he is? How Hua Cheng is everything to him in a world of nothing?
“Gege wants it inside,” Hua Cheng repeats, and bottoms out in that same breath, flush against the backs of his thighs. His long, clever fingers roll one stiffened nipple, his palm cool against his overheated chest, and the sensation sends sparks zigzagging up Xie Lian’s spine — he can feel the base of Hua Cheng's cock swell, feels the knot beginning to grow, and everything’s perfect, deliciously aligned; but then Hua Cheng pulls back once more, until only his cock-head is inside, and Xie Lian could scream from frustration. “Gege, what is it that you want inside? Can you say it clearly for this San Lang, so that he may understand?”
Generally, Hua Cheng's kind in bed; but sometimes, he can also be mean, dragging out every orgasm until Xie Lian’s entire body aches with exertion and they're lying in a puddle of his slick. Right now, he’s being too much of a tease for Xie Lian’s liking. “San Lang!” he yelps indignantly, and tears pour down his cheeks. He tries to buck up, tries to claim his prize for his own, but Hua Cheng tuts and holds him down with one hand.
“Gege, be good,” he says, and Xie Lian immediately goes limp, face pressed into the sheets. Only his back is still arched, ass high in the air so that San Lang can't slip out.
Hua Cheng caresses his side lovingly, and then his hand slips lower, grabs one cheek, fondles the flesh in his palm. Xie Lian makes a low sound in the back of his throat at the feeling of his hole being spread wider with nothing to fill it, and undoubtedly oozes upset pheromones. Hua Cheng hums. “Gege, you only need to say what it is that you want, and this San Lang will provide. If you’re good and say it, this San Lang will give it to you until you're full, swollen round with my pups, until you're mine, only mine, gege.”
Those words are like the sun rising in Xie Lian's heat-addled mind, he sobs and his entire back begins to shake, his voice turning rough and hoarse with desperation. “Please I want San Lang’s knot I want San Lang’s knot, knot me, Hua Cheng, get me pregnant, please, I’m yours, yours–” and immediately San Lang is pushing inside with a cry of his own, falling over his back until he's but a hair away from crushing him completely, and a second later his knot pops inside and begins to swell.
Xie Lian screams. The knot keeps swelling, and Hua Cheng is coming, and he claps a hand over Xie Lian's nape and Xie Lian shudders through his own orgasm, squeezing rhythmically around Hua Cheng to the point he groans in pain, pants open-mouthed above the back of his head. Xie Lian's eyes fall shut in bliss, and feels his entire body go limp as the last of his orgasm’s spams fade, and with it, the ache in his belly signaling his heat all but disappears.
There’s few things he likes as much as dozing off with San Lang still inside of him, feeling safe, sated and full. He feels himself steadily float towards sleep.
Hua Cheng is still coming, snug inside of him, when Xie Lian feels something almost cold on his back, too thick to be sweat. Then something lands next to his face. His eyes open a crack, but fly open when he sees the offending red color against the white sheets, and he instinctively bucks up.
It looks like blood.
“San Lang?! Are you okay?!”
Despite the alarmed urgency in Xie Lian's voice, it takes a solid minute for Hua Cheng to answer. He has finally stopped coming, but his knot is still round and stiff inside Xie Lian and will probably be for the next quarter of a shichen, keeping them locked together.
“Mhm, gege, mnm… it's okay.”
He talks like there's something in his mouth hindering his speech. Xie Lian tries to turn his head to see what happened, but Hua Cheng is plastered to his back. Although he could throw him back easily, pulling on where they are connected is painful for the both of them. “What happened? Did you accidentally bite your tongue? Turn me over, San Lang, please.”
“It's okay, gege,” Hua Cheng reassures lazily, but obeys his command regardless, and at once Xie Lian is being gently shifted around until Hua Cheng is on his back and he's seated comfortably in his lap. When he catches sight of Hua Cheng's face, he gasps, horrified. Hua Cheng is covered in blood. Rivulets of crimson run down his mouth and the column of his throat, painfully stark against his pale skin.
Xie Lian touches a hand to his cheek, and Hua Cheng nuzzles into his palm. His pupil is diluted to the point he seems to have no vision, as if it was him in rut and not Xie Lian in heat. Xie Lian has never seen him in such a state. “San Lang?”
Hua Cheng is not answering him beyond a low hum in the back of his throat, and his eye, half-lidded and distant, is not focusing on anything. Xie Lian, near panicked now, presses fingers against his mouth, and the ghost king’s lips part obediently to allow him entrance.
The inside of Hua Cheng's mouth is filled with blood as well, mostly the front, meaning that the blood is not from the inside of his throat. When Xie Lian runs fingers over his tongue, he finds it whole and unscathed. Where's the injury then?
It comes to him at once. Hua Cheng had clasped a hand over his nape when he came.
He reaches for his right hand, and just as well, the deep indents of Hua Cheng’s dentures on the back of his hand can be clearly seen under the congealed blood and saliva. More than likely drunk on pheromones, Hua Cheng bit down on his own hand to protect his nape. Xie Lian’s heart plummets to the bottom of his stomach.
Hua Cheng had almost bitten him, claiming him as his mate; instead of his beloved who he had been waiting for such a long time.
Panic and bitterness rises in the back of his throat like bile, and it takes everything in his power to keep his emotions out of his scent, lest he violently yanks Hua Cheng out of his blissed-out, floating state, and sends him spiraling down.
Not for the first time since they became each others’ companions during the estrus period, Xie Lian begins to doubt whether it is fair to Hua Cheng.
The idea has been Xie Lian's, a thing made in the haze of a heat a year ago; binding Hua Cheng to himself each and every time he required it. Hua Cheng had said he was happy to help, he had been insisting, even, as he had always did. It is not only that as a ghost king, Hua Cheng had no true need for reciprocation, making their companionship one-sided at best. This is also about Hua Cheng’s beloved.
The person who tethers Hua Cheng to this world has to exist in some form or another, otherwise he wouldn't have the pleasure of Hua Cheng's company, and they have to be safe, otherwise Hua Cheng wouldn't know rest. But where are they then?
He has stopped trying to figure out the identity of Hua Cheng's beloved years ago. It has always hurt, even in the beginning of their relationship, in a childish, hidden corner of Xie Lian's heart, and Xie Lian dealt with all painful things the same way; avoidance. Hua Cheng hasn't been quite forthcoming with answers either, so it has always been comfortable to pretend it is sensible not to pry.
He wonders whether that person is the true reason Hua Cheng has such a low opinion of himself. Whether that person is the reason Hua Cheng prefers to be always the one servicing, the one doing, as if he is worthless of anything else.
Xie Lian's opinion does not matter. What matters is Hua Cheng and his happiness.
Looking at the bloodied Hua Cheng, driven to biting, claiming, which he has never done before, he wonders what he has been doing all this time. Why hasn't he pursued Hua Cheng's joy the same way the ghost king does his? Why hasn't he encouraged him to seek his own happiness where it truly lay?
Perhaps Hua Cheng's beloved does not reciprocate his feelings. Perhaps they have a low opinion of him. All the more reason for Xie Lian to support Hua Cheng. Why had he been so comfortable using his friend for his own benefit? Is he truly such a selfish hedonsit that he hasn't thought of this before?
An accident today, evaded by Hua Cheng. But what if one day his judgment becomes muddy enough from pheromones that he doesn't put his hand in the way? What if he isn't quick enough?
What if it's Xie Lian one day, he thinks with growing, sour panic, claiming Hua Cheng selfishly as his own, as if he didn't know his heart belonged to another? Could he bear the disapointment that would follow? Could he live with betraying his most important person, could he bear the weight of standing in the way of his happiness?
Accidents happen, but a friendship like theirs happens only once in a lifetime, especially for a thing like Xie Lian. There’s no one he loves or trusts as much as Hua Cheng, and nothing is worth risking him and his happiness.
He pours spiritual energy into Hua Cheng’s hand to heal him completely, and presses a trembling, lingering kiss to the bloodied hand. Then he lets go, places it next to his body, and lies down on top of him to wait out the softening of his knot.
He has some thinking to do.