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Chu Wanning’s throat trembles under Hua Binan’s fingers, his gills fluttering with each nervous inhalation that gives away what Chu Wanning’s face hides. The skin is delicate here, would bruise to the color of sunsets on the waves in the world above if Hua Binan were not careful.
Chu Wanning is not made to be in these waters, not in the dark and murky caves which Hua Binan now calls his home. His scales are as delicate as the flower Hua Binan remembers finding in his youthful adventures up to the surface. He remembers thinking how strange it was to see, how it must surely have fallen from a tree and floated so far to arrive in his grasp. The bloom back then had been the same shade as Chu Wanning’s tail now, shifting from white to pink as it floated in the cool waters. Back then, he had cradled that flower as he now cradles Chu Wanning, fearful of its fragility and in awe of its beauty.
He had thought back then that he might gift it to the prince who was so kind as to visit him and his mother when everyone viewed them with such fear, but it had torn itself apart in the pressure of the currents before he could even find his dear friend.
Here, it is not only the current that wishes to tear you apart. The smell of blood is always in the water, and the eyes gleaming in the shadows follow you wherever you turn. If there is one good thing to say about this place, it is that they are at least honest when they want to sink their teeth into your flesh. Hua Binan cannot say the same for the place he escaped from before this one.
Hua Binan was never meant for these places either, but he has carved himself into something cruel to survive when he was left with nowhere else to escape. Maybe it is that cruelty that makes him want to tighten his hand around Chu Wanning’s throat, to see if he could force Chu Wanning to wear something of Hua Binan’s.
You were so eager, after all, to wear something of that man’s, Hua Binan thinks, as he glares at the cinnabar red gem hanging from Chu Wanning’s ear. Why can’t I have this when I’ve known you for so much longer?
Loved you for so much longer?
He loosens his grip but keeps his hands pressed against Chu Wanning’s skin. One trails up his throat, cradles his chin, and tilts it to the side. The other dances across his chest and down his arms to encircle his wrist in fingers deceptively delicate. Hua Binan leans into him, close enough his dark green tail can curl together with Chu Wanning’s, anchoring him close. It pulls him almost flush with Hua Binan, close enough that to an onlooker it might appear like a couple’s embrace.
He feels Chu Wanning stiffen beneath his hands, and a tug tells him for all he would not mind turning this farce into a reality, Chu Wanning would not allow it for any longer than it might get him the very wish he came here to grant.
This doesn’t stop him from pressing closer, from leaning in until there is only a hair’s breadth of distance between his lips and Chu Wanning’s
“Are you really so certain,” he whispers, letting the words fall from his lips and float to Chu Wanning’s thin frown, “that you’re ready to make that sacrifice?”
“I am,” Chu Wanning says. His phoenix eyes grow fierce, determined, fighting back against the ways Hua Binan wants to make it crack.
“There would be no going back.”
“I have no need to. My father has exiled me and threatened my death if I return. There’s nothing keeping me here.”
“Nothing?” Hua Binan hisses, shaking with barely concealed rage. Was that what he was? Nothing? “And what up there is so special that the sea must give up its Darling Beidou?”
What was so special that Chu Wanning would make this sacrifice, instead of seeking Hua Binan’s protection? He may have been weak in the past, may have still been weak by conventional means, but he had learned enough techniques of his own that not even Huaizui could hurt Chu Wanning if Chu Wanning dared to let go of his pride and ask Hua Binan to save him.
Chu Wanning does not need to answer. Hua Binan sees it in the way his eyes soften to a sickening fondness. They reflect not the man pressed against Chu Wanning now, but another with dark eyes and a sharp smile. He'd dared to steal Chu Wanning from the ocean once and seemed determined to do it again.
Hua Binan had hoped tasting human cruelty would have taught Chu Wanning better.
Perhaps, Chu Wanning needs another lesson.
“Have it your way,” he says, teeth grinding together until he expects to taste chalky powder in his mouth. “I’ll give you what you want, Chu Wanning.”
He allows only the flicker of joy to pass through Chu Wanning’s face before he descends upon him, gnashing teeth wild and hungry. It is not the usual way of these types of deals, but if Chu Wanning feels like sacrificing everything for that bastard, then he must sacrifice this too for Hua Binan.
He tastes as the words slip from Chu Wanning’s tongue, disappearing from his mouth as Hua Binan plunders it without mercy. Chu Wanning is too shocked to bite him, but Hua Binan thinks he would treasure that too if Chu Wanning were to give it. One last gift from Chu Wanning before he throws himself away for humans. But bereft of that, he will simply make do with his memory.
He is warm and sweet, trembling under Hua Binan’s touch. He doesn’t know what makes Chu Wanning so pliant, so yielding to Hua Binan as his tongue pushes past his lips and takes what should rightfully have been his years ago. Chu Wanning whimpers, higher-pitched than Hua Binan would ever imagine could come from a man as fierce as Chu Wanning, but as his words slip away, so too do those noises with them.
He kisses him through the transformation, through the sounds of flesh tearing itself into legs, of scales flaking off in bloody chunks. He holds him tight as the smell of gore fills the air, as the beasts which populate these waters rear their heads at the smell of wounded prey. He brushes away the pearls as they fall from Chu Wanning’s eyes and float to the floor of his cave. When he’s gone, Hua Binan will gather them up and string them together to keep with him.
As the last of Chu Wanning’s scales break off and his new pale legs, covered in the remnants of blood, find themselves kicking uselessly in the water, Hua Binan grants Chu Wanning one last thing.
He breathes enough air into Chu Wanning’s hesitant lungs to last him long enough to reach the surface and paints symbols in his own blood upon Chu Wanning’s back to grant him safety for as long as it takes to reach the shore. Even if Chu Wanning does not ask for his protection, he will grant it—at least as long as he lives within the ocean’s reach.
Once he steps beyond it, Hua Binan can promise nothing.
With these last gifts imparted, his hands slip from Chu Wanning. It aches to pull away, to know that this might be the last he sees of him.
But Chu Wanning has made his choice, and the only thing Hua Binan can do is hope he regrets it.
“Go,” he snaps, “before you waste your own foolish sacrifice by drowning to death here. If I see your corpse among the sailors, I won’t bury you.”
With a flick of his wrist, he turns away and busies himself with something he barely recalls starting. If Chu Wanning wishes to say anything to him, Hua Binan has made certain he cannot.
He does not watch as Chu Wanning leaves, even as he hears the water shift behind him and the silks curtains he hangs at the entrance brush against skin. He is too busy hoping that Chu Wanning doesn’t notice the golden pearls that have joined his own on the cave floor.
If he does, though, what will it matter?
He has already lost.