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He suggests it in the middle of a calligraphy lesson.

The lessons were never really about the calligraphy, of course. For one thing, Xie Lian would never forgive himself if Hua Cheng’s abysmal, evil calligraphy were to lose all of its charm. It only grows more precious to him the more time passes. He has occasionally considered answering Hua Cheng’s forearm tattoo with one of his own.

If he were to, it would be the ‘ha ha ha!’ above the gambler’s den, written in that chaotic scrawl. He has never loved a laugh more than Hua Cheng’s, after all.

It’s mostly a silly thought, and he knows Hua Cheng wouldn’t hear of it. He definitely wouldn’t help. He has a hard enough time with the temporary marks he leaves on Xie Lian. A smudge of ink from his hand on Xie Lian’s robes would be brutally avenged in some way or another. Xie Lian takes care to work carefully with Hua Cheng's unending devotion.

Not because he fears it, but because he loves it enough to be gentle.

“San Lang...” He says that night when Hua Cheng’s brush has cursed another perfectly benign poem— Xie Lian finally convinced him to copy more than the one, but it had taken years of asking.

“Yes, gege?” Hua Cheng seems eager to turn his attention away from his… Well, it could be called ‘work,’ Xie Lian supposes. Even if it’s nearly illegible and somewhat eerie to behold, it is something he’s doing because Xie Lian asked him to, not for fun.

“Once, some time ago, San Lang said he wouldn’t mind if this beloved had… Ideas?” Xie Lian says, as delicately as he can.

Hua Cheng’s lips curl into a tight, wicked smile. He props one elbow on the table and leans on his hand, his talented fingers twirling the poor calligraphy brush.

“This one remembers encouraging many of dianxia’s ideas. Is he referring to anything in particular?”

Xie Lian puts his face in both his hands, as the ethics sutra automatically starts looping in some distant part of his mind. It gets more distant every year.

“About… About that thing.”

“That thing… Puqi shrine’s upkeep? En, gege, this one would be happy to help.”

His grin is outright cruel now, his head tilted in a way that bares his gorgeous throat, and the indecent amount of skin showing at his chest.

“San Lang! This one— This one means about—” Xie Lian is a wreck, cheeks hot and words stuttering. He would mind more if it were anyone else seeing him. He likes when San Lang sees him undone. He’s safe with San Lang.

That’s why he thought…

Still. He’d promised himself months ago to stop giving his beloved every victory, and he puts that plan into effect here and now.

“Nevermind,” he huffs primly, straightening up and clearing his throat. “This has distracted from San Lang’s lesson for too long already.”

“What?” Hua Cheng blinks, then pouts immediately. “Gege, no, this one wants to hear your idea!”

“San Lang just wants to shirk his calligraphy practice and uses his poor beloved as an excuse.”

“No!” Hua Cheng objects immediately, dropping the brush and twisting to wrap himself around Xie Lian’s unmoving seated form, as if he were cuddling one of his statues. “Gege, this one will practice extra even, don’t be mad.”

Xie Lian can’t hold it. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs. He laughs himself breathless, even as Hua Cheng squeezes him and grumbles about his cruel beloved. He finally manages to choke down the laughter into soft giggles while Hua Cheng bites his neck in touches just barely too sharp to be considered kisses.

“This one’s god is so cruel,” Hua Cheng sighs. “Teasing his most devoted believer.”

“This one’s believer was cruel first,” Xie Lian insists, burying one hand in Hua Cheng’s luxurious hair. “To pretend he doesn’t know what his god means after all his promises. ‘Ah, gege, don’t worry, I’ll always listen to you even if you’re not sure how to say it;’ ‘gege, don’t worry, we’ll find our way together, you only have to tell this San lang what you like.’ But here this gege is being so brave and trying his best, and San Lang teases him…”

“So sad,” Hua Cheng agrees with a heavy sigh before leaning in close, teeth grazing Xie Lian’s earlobe as he speaks. “Gege should punish his believer however he likes.”

Xie Lian laughs again, which definitely wasn’t what Hua Cheng was going for. He pats his sweet ghost king’s chest apologetically as he tries to reign in his hysterical laughter. Hua Cheng doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles down at Xie Lian laughing in his arms, and looks like he could ascend from sheer happiness.

(He would just jump down again if he did.)

((Xie Lian would catch him.))

Two decades ago, Xie Lian welcomed his beloved home. Or, really, San Lang had been waiting there for him, so maybe he was the one being welcomed? Either way, they collided together. Either way, they wrapped their arms around each other. Either way, they kissed until the sun was long set and Xie Lian’s poor ox was lowing for attention.

They walked hand in hand to tend her, and Hua Cheng whined his way into snuggling up behind Xie Lian, sticking to his back like a burr while he unhooked and fed the poor beast.

If he’d let go, Xie Lian might have screamed.

The moment she was settled, Xie Lian was in his ghost king’s arms. Held close and safe, tossed like he weighed nothing. He scrambled, one hand looping around Hua Cheng’s shoulders and the other sliding over his neck.

He didn’t flinch away this time.

He felt Hua Cheng’s low laugh against his thumb as he was carried.

“San Lang,” he whispered. “Nothing’s changed, right?”

“Not for us,” Hua Cheng agreed. “Not unless gege wants it to.”

Xie Lian answered by sliding his hand up, cupping his jaw, and drawing him down into a kiss. An awkward, inexperienced, shy kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. No spiritual power was exchanged. He felt the full-body shudder Hua Cheng gave, even though his steady steps towards the house didn’t falter.

They kept kissing inside. They kissed their way past the table, and down onto the bed. There was so much Xie Lian wanted to tell him. There was so much he wanted to hear. This was more important. This, without any pretext of spiritual powers, or breath under the water, or death on the beach. This, because he wanted to. Because he wanted San Lang to know he wanted to.

He’d had so much time to think about what he wanted.

Which was why he steeled himself as they knelt before one another, Hua Cheng’s tongue in his mouth, and followed through on what he’d intended the whole time: A way to show San Lang just how eager he was for whatever came next between them.

He reached forward and placed a firm hand over Hua Cheng’s crotch, and rubbed down against the fabric.

He’d never heard Hua Cheng scream in pleasure before. He’d certainly never heard Hua Cheng scream his name before. Not ‘gege,’ not ‘dianxia,’ but “Xie Lian!” as he arched into the touch, back bowing and eye wide open.

They both froze the moment after. Something hot had spilled under his clothes. Xie Lian couldn’t figure out where to look. At the twitching erection he was still touching through red robes, or Hua Cheng’s parted lips, showing a hint of fang past their shocked expression, or that eye, pupil so wide that even his black iris seemed darker than usual.

He was unbearably beautiful.

(He was unbearably real.)

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered, awed and shocked and confused. “Did you just…?”

Hua Cheng pulled his hands from Xie Lian’s bunched and tangled robes to slap them over his beautiful, shocked expression.

“Gege, don’t look,” he whined, his voice thready and weak.

Even as he spoke his hips lifted, and that definitely softening part of his body nudged against Xie Lian’s palm again. It made his whole body shudder, and a keening whine of embarrassment or pleasure or both wrung out of him.

“A-ah! San Lang, what’s wrong? I’m sorry! Was I too forward? Did this gege hurt you? Are you alright? Could it be that you're still weak from returning? I had read that this was supposed to take some time, but—”

“Gege!”

He sounded so upset that Xie Lian patted him a couple of times, but he didn’t think to move his hand to do it, and Hua Cheng made a strange sound and arched against him. Xie Lian quickly pulled his hand back, stuttering apologies, but Hua Cheng only wrapped him up tight in his arms, shaking and breathing hard against his neck.

“No apologies, gege,” He whispered once he seemed to be back under control. “This one just didn’t expect—”

“Ah, this one should have given some warning,” Xie Lian said with an awkward apology in his voice. “Forgive me, San Lang… I only wanted to make sure you knew that this one wants…” He cleared his throat. “Well… that this one wants .”

“Gege,” Hua Cheng's lips were soft against Xie Lian’s neck. “This one wants too.”

“Ah, really?” Xie Lian said, because ‘yes, that much was clear’ seemed like it might be rude to say. “What good luck, then. San Lang’s fortune must have rubbed off on this one.”

Hua Cheng snorted roughly. Xie Lian blinked. Then he felt heat rise up his throat and color his cheeks.

“Not— Not like— I didn’t mean—!”

“No no, gege is right, it was luck that rubbed off on him.”

“San Lang!”

“Tell me your thoughts,” Xie Lian urges, watching Hua Cheng’s hands. They tell him more than the calm smile on his lips would. Possibly even more than his carefully chosen words will.

“Gege’s put a lot of thought into this,” San Lang says with a teasing air.

The fingers of his left hand find the tassel on E-Ming’s sheath and start fiddling, twining red thread through long, pale fingers.

“Only because this gege feels safe to.” Xie Lian replies, and sees how Hua Cheng’s smile twitches up at the corner in response. His fingers twist into the tassel, wrapping it around and around his long fingers.

“This one is glad,” Hua Cheng says. Xie Lian braces for a ‘but.’ It doesn’t come. Instead, Qiandeng Temple falls unusually quiet between them. The red tassel flickers in the edge of Xie Lian’s vision, pinched and tugged between anxious, talented fingers.

“San Lang doesn’t have to answer now,” Xie Lian offers him an easy way out. “He still has many more lines to copy, after all!”

“There’s nothing to consider, gege.” Hua Cheng replies. “The only question is when.”

Xie Lian stares at him, blinking at the soft, confident smile on Hua Cheng’s face.

“It’s a good idea.” Hua Cheng adds with a nod. “Truly, Taizi Dianxia is the wisest.”

“Insincere,” Xie Lian accuses, tapping his chest.

“Never.” Hua Cheng insists, feigning offense.

“Let’s take our time.” Xie Lian offers after, leaning forward hoping for a touch. He’s not disappointed. Hua Cheng shakes his hand loose from the red tassel at his hip to embrace him fully. “There’s no rush.”

“There’s no rush,” Hua Cheng agrees, and lets out a very slow, carefully controlled breath.

Xie Lian stared for the first time at Hua Cheng’s naked body. It was probably rude to stare— especially where he was staring— but he couldn’t help himself. He frowned, and lifted a hand to his chin, tapping against his own lips.

“Something wrong, gege?” San Lang asked, tone carefree but something deadly series and concerned beneath the light, teasing phrase.

There was, but how on earth was Xie Lian supposed to say it? His eyes were fixed down there, at the fine dark hair— as detailed a piece of work as Hua Cheng’s scalp, he had no doubt— and then further down than that. It was very nice! It was just…

“Gege…”

“It’s very nice!” Xie Lian blurted aloud, echoing his own thoughts before forcing his eyes up. “But this one prefers San Lang’s true form?”

Because Xie Lian had lived 800 years, and he had seen penises in that time. He had never looked at them with any desire before, and it certainly changed the experience to be considering…

But there was an inescapable fact about Hua Cheng’s penis. It was far, far too perfect. And it was definitely too small, proportionally. Xie Lian didn’t want to say that aloud , because though he had his suspicions, he also remembered calling poor Yin Yu too plain to be believed.

He made a mental note to help Yin Yu with some of his work this week in penance…

Still, it wasn't just simple proportional suspicion that made him think so! Though it was only once, and it was over very soon, he had touched San Lang there, and what he’d felt had not been… subtle.

Hua Cheng shifted uneasily— the first sign of discomfort he'd shown, despite having disrobed right there in the middle of their mountain home for Xie Lian to stare at.  Xie Lian hadn’t even intended it in that way! He really had been concerned about ticks hiding in the tall grass outside… Not that San Lang had any body heat to lure them to him…

….

…

Okay, maybe it had been about that in the first place.

Before him, Hua Cheng pouted, looking down at his own body. Xie Lian wondered what his play would be. What game he would lead them into next, or if he would admit to it, or deflect or…

“This one didn’t want dianxia to be daunted.” Hua Cheng muttered, and his body changed. He lost a little of the softness that he would have gained before death if he’d been properly nourished. His muscles were defined and sharp, with a raw-looking scar under his ribs. His body was shapely; long and broad with whipcord muscle, and his penis…

His penis was definitely not smaller than average. And it was much more interesting without all of its personality smoothed away.

“Oh!” Xie Lian clapped his hands in pleasant surprise. “That’s much cuter!”

Hua Cheng groaned, putting a hand to his head, even as his penis twitched at the praise like a miniature E-Ming.

“Gege,” he whined. “It isn’t cute, it’s…” He floundered.

“Long?” Xie Lian offered helpfully, edging a step closer to him, still fully clothed but wanting to take a better look. He glanced down to his own hand. Was it about as long as from his palm to his fingers? Could he check? Would San Lang mind?

“And crooked.” Hua Cheng added. “Like me.”

“En! That’s exactly it. It’s like you. That’s why I like it!” Xie Lian agreed with a grin, refusing to let Hua Cheng’s disparaging thoughts fester.

Hua Cheng’s hand dropped from his face. His dark eye inspected Xie Lian’s face as if he was looking for a lie. He looked lost, his mouth trying to twitch into an easy smile and failing into confusion over and over.

“To be clear,” Hua Cheng said, low and rough. “This one expects nothing of you, gege. Anything you want, this one wants too.”

“Okay,” Xie Lian agreed, moving a step closer. “Can I touch it, then? I want to see how long it is compared to my hand.”

Hua Cheng made a choking sound, but nodded his approval.

Xie Lian had never touched another man’s body like this. He’d never even touched his own for anything but necessity. He didn’t know what was good, or what was right. He went about it carefully. He knew his fingertips were rough with callouses, so he was careful with the very soft skin.

He crouched before Hua Cheng, looking over his length. He lifted it between his pointer finger and his thumb, then set it atop the palm of his other hand. With his middle fingertip touching the base and his palm extended beneath its length, the hooded head of San Lang’s penis flopped over onto the inside of his wrist. The whole thing hooked distinctly to his left. Xie Lian hummed a note of surprise and interest at these new pieces of information.

Hua Cheng stared down at him where he was crouched, then burst out laughing. It was such a wild, beautiful laugh that Xie Lian looked up at him, and grinned at the sight. The way Hua Cheng's head was tipped back, and his long neck was bared, and his naked body moved with every heaving guffaw of amusement. Xie Lian didn’t mind being useless at this— Hua Cheng had already known he would be, and his face was thick enough to not mind any teasing. It was more than enough to be allowed to touch-- to be this close.

He found himself wanting to reward that beautiful laughter. He kissed the rosy tip of San Lang’s penis, since he was already cuddling it a little, and the sound that squeezed out of Hua Cheng was very close to a squeal.

“Oh!” Xie Lian said as the heavy penis twitched alive in his hand. “It really is like E-Ming!”

“You’re going to kill me,” Hua Cheng lifted both hands to cover his face, still bent backwards and laughing wildly. “Gege, you’re really going to be the death of me!”

Xie Lian pouted, tugging on the piece of San Lang he was holding and then feeling bad when a jolt shuddered up his whole body, starting at his well-muscled thighs.

“At least this gege is trying!" He complained aloud, even as he gave the penis a gentle pat of apology. "San Lang is just standing there laughing at him.”

He dropped his hands to his sides at last and stood up with a sigh. He frowned at himself, rubbing his hands against his robes uneasily. “I'm sorry, San Lang. Perhaps this one isn’t actually capable of—”

“Dianxia,” Hua Cheng’s mirth and embarrassment evaporated back into that sharp, delighted smile that Xie Lian loved so much. He took both of Xie Lian's hands, stepping closer casually, as if his penis weren’t bobbing before him, trying to stand on its own. “This one apologizes. He did not mean to tease. Only, he expected gege to be more… Shy? Gege is always shy when this one kisses him.”

“It's not that this one isn't shy,” Xie Lian whispered, eyes fixed on Hua Cheng’s lips now that they were close enough to kiss. “But San Lang looked so anxious, and hid his form. This gege only wanted to help set him at ease…”

“So kind,” Hua Cheng tilted his head, bending forward in a slow, inexorable movement until their lips brushed. “Taizi dianxia is always so kind to this believer.”

Xie Lian sighed against his lips as they kissed, his eyes flickering closed. Heat crawled up the back of his neck again in embarrassment. He didn’t know how to do this at all, which wasn't a surprise, but he wished he could be a natural at it. Hua Cheng seemed to understand a thousand things about this world that Xie Lian had never touched in 800 years.

(Well… He had come close to touching it once, but that had been in a haze of pain and terror, and he refused to count it.)

“There is one good thing,” he said when Hua Cheng released his lips to speak again. “This one doesn't feel afraid at all. That's good, isn't it San Lang? Although the last time was… Was that time when we were… Ah, that is... This time I’m not afraid.”

“Because gege is in control?” Hua Cheng suggested after patiently listening. He was still leaning down so he could place delicate, almost curious kisses at the corners of Xie Lian’s smile.

“En,” Xie Lian agreed softly. “And San Lang is here, and he wants this also.”

“Gege, are you sure—?”

“San Lang, don't doubt." Xie Lian scolded, before whispering conspiratorially to his beloved. “Truly, part of why this one planned to start on the very day you returned was so his eagerness would be clear.”

“Hmm..." Hua Cheng nosed against Xie Lian's jaw, his hum at once thoughtful and affectionate. "Alright. As much or as little as gege wants. No more, no less.”

Xie Lian reached forward without much of a plan. He slid his hand awkwardly down Hua Cheng’s front, patting his sternum in apology in case it was strange. He was unable to just reach out and take what he wanted to touch without some sort of map, and Hua Cheng's body could steer him in the right direction.

His fingers found the rather comically bobbing penis again, and traced over it. It made a rather pleasing sound come from Hua Cheng’s throat. Xie Lian surprised himself by answering it in a gasp. There was something tight in his groin. Something warm, and a little unsettling; not completely new, but entirely unexplored.

“It’s… It’s true I may not be able to take this, um, there… yet.” He stuttered, delicate fingertips resting against the tip of Hua Cheng’s penis, amused and embarrassed by how it seemed to lean into his touch. “But, um… But San Lang knows that this one used to busk? One of his acts was, um…”

Words failed him, heat overtaking his brain. Hua Cheng’s fingers were tracing down his back, lower and lower, down his spine. Spreading over the curve just below his waist, curling and squeezing through his robes and he was— He—

His instinct was to jolt away. To yell that the oven was on and run. (Was the oven on?)

Instead he took a deep breath, wrapped his hand decisively around Hua Cheng’s penis, and declared “San Lang, let this one practice his sword swallowing!”

Xie Lian has known for a long time that Hua Cheng is brimming with determination. When he sets his mind to something, it is only a matter of time, but it always feels different to see it in action. He watches him test the quality, the give, and the texture of a dozen different silk samples, and find them all wanting.

“Try again.” Hua Cheng tells his servant coldly, and they scurry away stuttering apologies.

“It's okay!" Xie Lian calls after them, before turning to his love with a laugh. “San Lang, any of them would do.”

“This one will accept nothing but the best.” Hua Cheng huffs in response. “Gege asked for the material to be strong enough not to break easily, and it must also be the softest and most beautiful.”

Xie Lian collects the rejected scraps of silk and works them between his fingers. They’re all fine quality! Despite being small samples, he could no doubt trade them without much trouble in the town below Taicang Mountain or on his next visit to Puqi village.

“Does San Lang mind if—”

“Gege, you don’t have to ask.” Hua Cheng’s arms slide around his waist. “Anything you like in this home is yours.”

“Anything in this home is ours .” Xie Lian corrects, reaching back with one hand to stroke Hua Cheng’s head as the ghost king leans down to press his face into Xie Lian’s neck from behind. “So this one will always ask.”

“Then this one will say ‘yes’ a lot.” Hua Cheng sighs. “This poor San Lang will wear his throat out with how much he says yes. Gege will have to kiss it better.”

“O-oh,” Xie Lian stutters, one hand fisting in the silk scraps and the other in San Lang’s wild hair. “Now?”

“Only if gege is feeling merciful towards this poor ghost.” Hua Cheng says with another heavy, tragic sigh.

Xie Lian is feeling very merciful. He bestows many healing kisses across the ghost king’s throat, and in return Hua Cheng pants ‘yes, yes, yes’ like a prayer.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Xie Lian said, as though it were a confession and not an obvious fact.

“Hm?” Replied Hua Cheng, still looking a little dazed after Xie Lian wrestled him back into his inner robe and dragged him down to sit with him, unable to face his own brazen proclamation.

“This,” Xie Lian gestured between them. “San Lang, this one doesn’t even know where to start.”

Hua Cheng moved; languid and slow. It still sent Xie Lian’s pulse racing. His long-fingered hand cupped Xie Lian’s cheek, and he brushed his thumb against the bottom row of his eyelashes. He leaned in, and brushed their lips together. Somehow the delicate, feather-light touch awakened Xie Lian’s whole body, toes to scalp.

He hadn’t even exchanged a touch of spiritual power.

“How can gege know where to start, if he doesn’t know what he wants yet?” Hua Cheng said, still so close that his cool breath brushed over Xie Lian’s lips. He smelled a little like the tea they’d enjoyed so recently, and a little like blood. Xie Lian had noticed it about him before. He wanted to inspect it. He wanted to know more. He wanted.

“What does San Lang want?” He lifted his fingers to mirror Hua Cheng’s touch on his cheek. The cheek he touched curved into a wider smile at the affection.

“Whatever gege wants.” Hua Cheng offered.

“That,” Xie Lian breathed, leaning in closer. “Is very unhelpful, San Lang.”

Hua Cheng laughed into the kiss that followed. “Gege, this one is happy to help, but he has to know what to help with.”

Xie Lian leaned in, chasing the kiss and his words. But at his admonishment he groaned, letting his head drop to Hua Cheng’s shoulder.

“This one doesn’t know . How are these things supposed to go? Does one just start? Is there tradition to be observed? Protocol? Are there things to say and not say?”

“Gege doesn’t have to worry about all that,” Hua Cheng said, still chuckling, but with a deep warmth in his tone.

“But San Lang is so good to this one.” Xie Lian objected. “San Lang is always so careful, and kind. This one wants to do this right with him.” He pressed his face closer against Hua Cheng’s shoulder, and let the truth fall out of him. “What if this one is not enough for you?”

“Gege would be enough for me if he never wanted to touch this unworthy believer again.” Hua Cheng murmured, drawing Xie Lian into his lap and curling around him. He nuzzled their heads together tightly. “If he chose to have this servant follow ten steps behind him forever, this ghost would be delighted with the permission to see his god live safe and happy. If dianxia wanted to never step in a puddle again this one would gladly let the flower crowned martial god step on his body instead.”

“San Lang—”

“Very gladly. In fact, gege, how do you feel about mud puddles? This one has an idea—”

“San Lang!”

He was laughing despite himself. Grinning against Hua Cheng’s robes, even as he clung tighter and tighter to him. He’d started out just gripping cloth, but his hands had minds of their own. They twined around Hua Cheng's back, into the wild fall of his hair. Below him, he could tell that the half-interest of Hua Cheng’s body hadn’t decreased.

Xie Lian wanted to know more. He wanted to understand why. He wanted to make Hua Cheng’s head tilt back again, like it had that first night, with his name gasped in that hollow voice and his hips jerking upwards.

“Gege worries so much,” Hua Cheng sighed in return, tilting into his touches. “Didn’t this follower tell you once before? Just keep doing what you want to do.”

“But I’ve spoken to people who were hurt in that way.” Xie Lian shivered at the feel of Hua Cheng’s lips against the shell of his ear, mouthing at the delicate skin. “What if this one hurt you?”

Hua Cheng choked on a laugh. His teeth felt sharp against Xie Lian’s ear. Some part of him thought, abruptly, of what it would feel like to receive a piercing there from those fangs. Heat pooled in his belly. Guoshi’s voice chanted the ethics sutra in his memory, louder and louder.

“Gege!” Hua Cheng laughed. “You have never hurt this one.”

“But—”

“Never.”

“I did. Once.”

“You thought you did.” Hua Cheng allows, nuzzling against him. “But this one wasn’t hurt. He was so happy to be of use.”

Xie Lian shuddered. Pressed closer.

“Don’t be of use to me,” he ordered. “Just love me. Just do as you've told me to. Keep doing what you want.”

“And if dianxia doesn’t like what I want?” Hua Cheng asked, breath cold against his ear. “Would he tell me?”

Xie Lian shivered again, feeling unsteady. Then he took a deep breath, gripped the back of Hua Cheng’s neck, and pulled him back by force. He felt the full-body shudder Hua Cheng gave at that, even as he straddled his lap, power flowing through his meridians.

“If this one didn’t want it,” Xie Lian said. “He would simply stop you, San Lang.”

“God,” Hua Cheng rasped, his dark eye swallowed by desire and his lips parted in a charming look of shock.

“Show me what you want,” Xie Lian insisted. “I’ll never know where to start.”

“All of you,” Hua Cheng gasped. “This one wants all of you, your highness.”

He tilted his head, pliant under Xie Lian’s controlling hand, pressing a slow kiss to Xie Lian’s arm without fighting the grip on his neck. “He wants to feel and taste every part.”

The dart of his tongue against Xie Lian’s forearm was enough to make his breath hitch. Xie Lian released his grip, and Hua Cheng slid forward like a snake, smooth and controlled, pressing them close again.

“He wants to give you pleasure.” He whispered against Xie Lian’s neck, words pressed into his pulse. “He wants to worship every inch.”

He pressed even closer, and Xie Lian bowed to the weight of his love. Hua Cheng wrapped an arm around his back, lowering him to his back on their bed. Xie Lian couldn’t seem to catch his breath as sharp teeth and cold lips and wet tongue pressed over where a curse shackle once lay.

“Let this follower please you, dianxia.” Hua Cheng begged with the edge of a prayer, dragging that fervent wish down Xie Lian’s throat, past his collar bones, to the part of his robes. He whispered his prayer into the skin just above where his own ashes lay. “Let this unworthy one draw your highness to the edge.”

“Yes,” Xie Lian whispered as Hua Cheng’s free hand slid beneath his robes, skirting over his chest to press over his heartbeat. He found himself arching into the touch. “San Lang…”

“Let him love you how no other has,” Hua Cheng’s face burrowed into his skin, nuzzling and kissing and parting his robes with every motion.

The guoshi’s tone in Xie Lian’s mind became that of a lecture rather than a recitation. The ethics sutra was well on its way to a thousand repetitions indeed…

“Yes,” Xie Lian gasped anyway.

“Let him swallow down your blessed essence.” Hua Cheng purred, parting Xie Lian’s robes and layering broad, flat-tongued licks across the muscles of his chest as though he were… As though…

“Some sort of delicious stone, maybe?” Xie Lian guessed aloud, brows knit in confusion at his own internal analogy, even as he arched into the contact.

Hua Cheng laughed, but he didn’t stop. His arm looped around Xie Lian’s back, settled into his body’s arch and supported it. He held him bowed without forcing Xie Lian to hold the position, and layered love on love on love with every kiss and lick.

“Absolutely delicious.” Hua Cheng assured him, and his tongue swept over the pearl of Xie Lian’s dusky nipple— previously only worthy of thought when the weather was cold, or he was wet and his robes were too thin, leaving him on display like—

The sensation caught up to him, and he cried out. Scrambled to grip the back of Hua Cheng’s head, and pressed him there, silently demanding another taste.

Hua Cheng seemed more than happy to oblige.

“That’s good.” Xie Lian praises, watching Hua Cheng practice the knots over and over on his own clone. “Is San Lang ready to try on this one?”

“Gege is sure he doesn’t want a turn tying this one up?” The clone pouts, the classic San Lang body that greeted him on the ox cart turning his precious petulance on his god.

Hua Cheng rolls his eye and flicks a finger, vanishing the clone at once.

“If gege feels confident in this one’s ability,” He agrees, untangling the suddenly empty silk. “This one believes he can tie it well enough to restrict without causing harm.”

“Then I entrust myself to you.” Xie Lian smiles as he offers his arms.

“What if this one decides to just keep you?” Hua Cheng sighs, winding the silk around Xie Lian’s wrists. Ruoye floats up from his arm, wrapping around Hua Cheng’s back and draping over his shoulder as if to observe. “Dianxia would be so safe and happy, all tied up in bed. This one would keep him well fed and very satisfied.”

Xie Lian squirms, biting his lip to stifle his own laugh. “San Lang!” He objects, but he can’t tap his chest in rebuke. His arms are being tied, after all, and he’s behaving himself.

“Mmm, dianxia looks good with this color.” Hua Cheng sighs, refusing to acknowledge Xie Lian’s rebuke. Instead he is focusing on the golden silk he’s wrapping around his wrists and forearms in delicate swirls and knots. “This one would wrap his god in nothing but strips of gold silk and keep the worship of him all to himself.”

“San Lang would get bored.” Xie Lian accuses, heat high on his cheeks and his voice pitched too high.

“Never.” Hua Cheng leans in to press their lips together in a languid kiss. He tastes like the tea they shared. The distant blood scent he always carries gives it a metallic tinge that Xie Lian cannot imagine kisses without. He doesn’t want to. He loves that taste like he loves Hua Cheng: with an ever-increasing intensity that has yet to stop growing, even after decades.

He wonders if it will grow large enough to crack the bands of the past that still strangle around his chest. He wants it to.

“How is it?” Hua Cheng asks, cradling Xie Lian’s bound hands in his own. Xie Lian flexes his hands where they rest safe in Hua Cheng’s palms. He curls them into fists, then flattens them, pressing them together. The silk strains, but it does not break. Hua Cheng’s eye narrows in appreciation at the sight of flexing muscle under golden silk.

“White really would have been fine,” Xie Lian tells him.

“This was better.” Hua Cheng replies at once. Then he repeats: “Dianxia, how is it?”

“Good,” Xie Lian praises. “Tight, but not painful. Strong, too. Just as this one asked. But it will need to be over this one’s head.”

Hua Cheng lifts the trailing end of the silk, knotted to emerge from between Xie Lian's wrists. He lifts it slowly, tall enough that it’s not a stretch for him to drag Xie Lian’s wrists up by their bonds. He holds him stretched out against the wall, bound by a single point of silk.

“Good,” Xie Lian whispers, flexing against the restraints.

His heart is fluttering. He wants to think it’s pleasure. He flexes once more. The bonds around his wrists and arms hold steady. He can’t get free. A smile-crying mask looks down on him, and he sucks in a breath.

All at once his arms are released, and cold arms wrap around him.

“Gege. Gege, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

He smells blood. He closes his eyes, and presses closer to the body wrapped around him. Blood, yes, but jasmine too. Wood smoke, and flowers, and tea on his cold breath.

“I’m okay,” Xie Lian tilts into his beloved's hold.

Hua Cheng shudders against him, only once, and holds him tighter. “If gege doesn’t want to do this—”

“I do.” Xie Lian snuggles closer to him. Feels Ruoye wrap around both their bodies and squeeze them together. “It’s okay, San Lang.”

A cold kiss against his neck answers him, and clever fingers slide between them to untie his hands.

“Hm.” Said Hua Cheng, hovering over Xie Lian’s exposed body, laying in the pool of his open robes.

“Sorry, San Lang,” Xie Lian choked, hands pressed over his face.

“Gege doesn’t have to apologize.” Hua Cheng smoothed a hand over Xie Lian’s thigh in comfort. His touch had gotten hot instead of cold the longer he kissed and touched. “This one only thought gege was enjoying more than this. It’s this one’s failing for not being more attentive to what gege likes.”

“It’s not,” Xie Lian groaned, wiggling under the searching stare Hua Cheng had fixed on his undeniably flaccid— “San Lang, it’s not, it’s— San Lang is— This one likes it so much! It’s only—”

“Tell me,” Hua Cheng demanded, hovering over him with a hungry, worried look. “Has this one hurt you? Or did gege change his mind? It’s okay if he did, this one can—”

“It’s guoshi!” Xie Lian bemoaned aloud.

Hua Cheng fell dead silent, his face going slack with shock.

“Gege… You…”

Xie Lian blinked up at him through his fingers, unused to hearing him at a loss for words. Hua Cheng looked outright bewildered, his eye fixed down on Xie Lian and his jaw slack with surprise.

“This… This one can… Look like him? If gege likes?” He offered at last in awkward generosity.

Xie Lian spit in alarm and scrambled, half-screaming with laughter.

“No, no no no no no no!” He chanted immediately, catching Hua Cheng in his arms and dragging him close, “San Lang, no! No, no no!”

“Okay, okay!” Hua Cheng was laughing now too, bright with relief and surprise. “Gege, gege, okay!”

“Ah, please don’t ever look like him!” Xie Lian begged. “In fact, don’t look like anyone but you! Ah, such a thought, hahahaha!”

He couldn’t stop laughing, pressing Hua Cheng’s face to his stomach, because that was where he grabbed him and he couldn’t seem to let go. Hua Cheng burrowed deeper against his belly, nuzzling and nipping at his laughing body with a distinct smile pressing against Xie Lian’s skin.

“No one but me,” Hua Cheng purred, the words nearly lost under the gales of Xie Lian’s laughter.

Xie Lian couldn’t stop envisioning a bearded Hua Cheng scowling and lecturing over him in bed after that, and they had to surrender for the moment. Hua Cheng crawled up to settle down beside him, both their robes still open and their legs tangled together. The flickers of laughter were still echoing through Xie Lian like echoes of electricity.

He got struck by lightning once during his travels, and it felt similar! But he didn’t think Hua Cheng would find that as amusing as he did, so he kept it to himself for the moment.

“What did gege mean?” Hua Cheng asked at last, thumb brushing back and forth over the aching corner of Xie Lian’s helpless smile. “Before this one so foolishly misunderstood him.”

“The ethics sutra,” Xie Lian explained. “You know it?”

“This one recites it a thousand times often, gege.” Hua Cheng replied casually, and then entered Xie Lian’s mental array to add: “and is very fond of it for that reason.”

“Ah,” Xie Lian chuckled. “Yes. When Mu Qing and I were young—”

“Gege, don’t say his name in bed.” Hua Cheng whined, with a dramatic pout. Xie Lian gave him an exaggerated ‘coo’ and patted his head in apology. His smile ached, and Hua Cheng’s fingers found the corner of his jaw, massaging the muscles there with talented fingertips.

“Very well,” he sighed. “When I was young, and beginning to come of age, Guoshi worried for my fledgling cultivation. He would recite the ethics sutra endlessly, especially in the evenings. He had me train it often, but whenever the thought of desire arose in me, especially after… Well, after a certain time, I found that it was helpful to think of it in his voice to add an edge to the recitation? If San Lang understands this one’s meaning? And now…”

“And now gege hears him while this poor San Lang is trying to pleasure him.” Hua Cheng sighed, dropping his forehead against Xie Lian’s shoulder.

“Sorry, San Lang.” Xie Lian laughed, stroking his hair. “This one will figure out how to—”

“No,” Hua Cheng said. “This is San Lang’s failing. To let his poor god get so distracted by such worthless things while he should be feeling his very best.”

And then, Hua Cheng’s voice in his private array said: “Surely San Lang’s words should be more interesting than an old Sutra?”

“Always,” Xie Lian agreed. “But San Lang can just talk? There’s no need to use the array.”

“Ah, but,” Hua Cheng's voice rumbled inside his mind, even as he mouthed at Xie Lian’s collar bone. “This one plans to keep his mouth busy.”

And yes, Xie Lian could have chosen to remember his teacher reciting the ethics sutra. But he decided he'd much rather remember the way Hua Cheng’s voice sounded saying the word ‘busy.’

Qiandeng Temple is rarely dull, but walking inside that evening Xie Lian laughs aloud at the riot of color around him. When Hua Cheng said he needed to ‘get a few things ready,’ Xie Lian expected a cleared altar and the golden silk awaiting them, but he hadn’t expected that Hua Cheng would put so much effort into decorating the temple as a whole.

He’s no fool. He knows why. His mind is fickle, and that night will never be far enough away. Every splash of color, every bundle of fresh flowers, every drape of fabric from the high ceiling takes him a little further away from the dull-grey ruins of a temple, stuffed full with human fear.

“San Lang!” He objects playfully nonetheless, because Hua Cheng did this for him , and he didn’t have to. He does so much for Xie Lian that he doesn’t have to.

“Does gege approve?” Hua Cheng purrs, hands clasped behind his back, striding in at Xie Lian’s side like the city lord he is.

“It’s beautiful,” Xie Lian laughs, veering to knock their shoulders together as they walk. Hua Cheng shoots him a smug look in return. “San Lang spoils this old god.”

“San Lang spoils his beloved.” Hua Cheng returns, far from repentant. “Gege should check and see if everything is comfortable enough.”

“San Lang, it’s so comfortable you can barely tell it’s an altar.” Xie Lian shakes his head at the lush red bedding covering the altar's surface. He tugs the braid of Hua Cheng’s hair behind his back. “This one is grateful that San Lang wants him to be safe, but—”

“This one understands, gege.” Hua Cheng agrees at once, and waves a hand. Butterflies lift free from his vambrace and rush forward, repositioning the many cushions and blankets to create a relaxing place just before the altar. “After, then.”

Xie Lian smiles, and nods his approval. One butterfly lags behind the others when they return to their home in Hua Cheng’s silver jewelry. Xie Lian lifts a hand to it, and grins to see it settle on his finger.

“So clever,” he praises the little creature.

“Thank you, gege.” Hua Cheng says, clearly aware that Xie Lian was talking to the butterfly.

Xie Lian reaches out to pinch his arm.

“San Lang should stop teasing his beloved and start binding him instead.”

“And gege will be alright?” Hua Cheng presses, glancing around the transformed temple, barely recognizable for what it is through his hard transformative work.

“This gege will be fine,” Xie Lian agrees. “If he wants to stop, he’ll tell his San Lang. And even if he doesn’t, San Lang is so attentive, he won’t miss it.”

He moves first, because Hua Cheng likes it when he moves first. He slides Hua Cheng’s hair away from his neck, and rises onto his toes to make it easy to set his lips there. Hua Cheng’s cold skin sucks up the warmth of his mouth, and he takes a deep, slow breath as Xie Lian nips and licks at the place where once there was a pulse beneath warm skin.

He has never kissed a throat with a pulse. He wonders if he would miss it more if he had. As it is, it feels just as it should be. The feel of Hua Cheng swallowing under his teeth, and the taste of freshly-washed skin. There's a lingering flavor of the way their bath smelled only moments ago, with the added soft salt of his body.

“Ready?” Hua Cheng’s voice rolls out of him lower than usual with want.

“Take me, San Lang.” Xie Lian says in return, and laughs outright when he’s scooped up at once in tight, strong arms.

There was a time where Hua Cheng took every moment between them like it was his last. Where he pushed for more touches, more attention, more conversation; where he stole kisses claiming it was for spiritual energy; where held Xie Lian's frozen body without removing a talisman from his back for fear it would be their last touch.

When Xie Lian had given him permission— assured him that he wanted what Hua Cheng wanted— he’d thought that enthusiasm (or was hunger a better word?) would dim.

He had been very, very wrong.

When he gave Hua Cheng an inch, Hua Cheng had taken a mile with the desperation of a starving man presented with a feast. Hua Cheng had always tried to mind his manners, but he had wanted so, so much.

When Xie Lian finally gave Hua Cheng a mile, it had amounted to assuring that same starving man ‘eat your fill; this is for you, and there will always be more.’

Hua Cheng scoops him up with an arm under each thigh, hoisting him high enough up that Xie Lian’s legs wrap around his waist. Hua Cheng seals his own mouth against Xie Lian’s throat. Kisses, and bites, and kisses again, not bothering to look where he walks as he carries Xie Lian to the altar. Butterflies dance around them, no doubt showing him the way.

Possibly even saving all this for later.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian gasps, tilting back and wrapping his arms around Hua Cheng’s neck to keep from spilling entirely out of his arms.

“Gege tastes so good,” Hua Cheng sounds drunk on the sensation. “Gege is so good.”

“Make me feel it,” Xie Lian demands, tangling his hands in Hua Cheng’s hair. “Make me remember it.”

“San Lang, San Lang, San Lang!”

“If gege wants something, he should take it.” Hua Cheng replied in the array, his mouth as busy as he promised.

Guoshi’s voice flickered in the background of Xie Lian’s mind, raised in frustration, but the tone makes it easier to ignore than ever. When had he ever let his teacher's frustration stop him?

“Don’t want—” Xie Lian gasped, his body moving in ways he didn’t understand; wanting things he didn’t understand, “San Lang, don’t want to hurt you—!”

“ This one won’t let you hurt him. Don’t be afraid, taizi dianxia.”

Xie Lian locked his fingers behind Hua Cheng’s head. He knew he was holding too tight, but Hua Cheng only moaned. He could feel the moan all around him. He could feel it shaking up through his body— through a place no one had ever touched him before, that was suddenly too much.

He'd ignored that place for 800 years, but he couldn’t ignore it any more. His only frame of reference for desire like this was the pain of a sword in an empty cave. There was pain in his body now too, but it was a different, unfamiliar flavor. He thought it might even have a different name than 'pain'.

He didn’t know where to start or what to want, but his body did. His hands gripped Hua Cheng’s head, and his hips bucked up into him, over and over, and the ghost king opened his mouth wide and took it all. Xie Lian shook, and bucked, and writhed, and Hua Cheng held onto his thighs like he was holding on to the last tether of his sanity.

“Yes,” Hua Cheng’s voice gasped in his mind. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Xie Lian forgot the ethics sutra entirely, and pressed Hua Cheng’s face down against his own body as the ghost king’s cold, wet mouth grew warm around him.

The gold silk is tight and restrictive. The altar is hard beneath him. A devastation looms above him.

Xie Lian’s cock twitches awake.

“Beautiful,” Hua Cheng draws the word out like a piece of worship. His hands slide down Xie Lian’s body in time with the slow praise. “My god.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian calls in reply, arching into his touch. His shoulders strain at the motion, hands bound above his head.

A shaking hand holding a sword.

“This one is going to make gege feel so good.” Hua Cheng’s hands are not shaking. They are steady and slow and delicate, parting his white robes with tender claws, careful not to snag in the threadbare fabric.

“Yes,” Xie Lian agrees, hands clenching and unclenching in the bonds.

“And if it’s too much?” Hua Cheng is asking for comfort, without a doubt. Xie Lian wants to stroke his hair so badly he considers trying to break the bonds.

“This one will tell his beloved.” Xie Lian promises at once. “San Lang, please.”

His robes fall open over his body. There is no blood. There are no wounds. There won’t be. There are only Hua Cheng’s hands; pale, cold skin with sharp black-painted nails at their tips. Xie Lian loves how they look touching him. His skin is tan and rough, lively from years in the sun; Hua Cheng’s is pale and soft as a sheltered noble’s.

Xie Lian loves him so much. The love pours like liquid silver into the ancient, invisible wounds that cover him, sealing them from bleeding out any further.

Hua Cheng's hands are still warm from the soothing bath they took together. He slides them up beneath Xie Lian’s robes, cupping his ribs from behind, supporting the arch of his back. He only shifts them them forward far enough to brush his thumbs over Xie Lian's nipples as he cradles his chest like something precious.

Xie Lian presses into his touches as best he can, and trusts Hua Cheng’s knotwork to support him.

A figure in white looming—

Nothing is white in the temple. Above Hua Cheng’s head Xie Lian can see only the blue and red and gold fabric that drapes from the center of the ceiling down to the walls, layer after layer; a celebration rather than a funeral.

“San Lang,” he breathes, and his beloved’s tongue drags up from the hollow of his collarbones, over his bared throat to nip at his chin. “San Lang, more…”

Hua Cheng’s mouth is too busy lavishing kisses to his neck to answer. His right hand obeys, though, sliding down his bound body to stroke the crease between his thigh and his groin in a tender, sweeping touch, tipped with the danger of his claws. Xie Lian cannot cling to him with his arms. He wraps one leg around his body instead, opening himself for the one he loves.

“Hnngh—!”

The wet, obscene noises from him below were unending, but that edge of pain had turned into something else , and he didn’t know what it was anymore. He ground into Hua Cheng’s face like he’d forgotten what else his body was for, and tried desperately to breathe.

“San Lang, I can’t— Too much, I—”

He sucked in a breath, his fingers clenching in Hua Cheng’s hair. A sob broke free of him. The tight, burning sensation wouldn’t lessen. Nothing helped, nothing was enough, nothing could—

He didn’t know how long he’d laid there, thrusting himself into Hua Cheng’s willing mouth, over and over and over.

“Gege, it’s okay,” Hua Cheng assured him in his mind, though Xie Lian knew it wouldn’t have been if Hua Cheng needed to breathe .

Xie Lian bucked into him again, and Hua Cheng’s hands squeezed on his thighs.

“I can’t—” Xie Lian gasped. “I can’t— San Lang— It hurts!”

Hua Cheng choked around the weight of his erection for the first time, and pulled against Xie Lian’s hands. Xie Lian released him at once, terrified of himself, and his body, and—

“Gege, gege,” Hua Cheng’s voice was in ruins, raw and ragged.

Xie Lian sobbed, and all at once arms were around him. Strong, cold, wonderful arms. He was bundled up in his own robes, and drawn into Hua Cheng’s lap, sobbing with desperation and shame. It hurt, and it wouldn’t end, and he didn’t understand. He didn’t know how this was supposed to be. He didn’t know how this was supposed to go. He didn’t know how he’d failed…

“Shhh,” Hua Cheng was whispering, rocking him, his own hardness nudging Xie Lian’s hip, but going utterly ignored. “Shhh, gege, it’s okay.”

“San Lang, San Lang, I can’t—” Xie Lian fumbled. Pressed his hand to Hua Cheng’s throat. Tried to pour Spiritual energy in to heal whatever he’d done.

Hua Cheng caught his hand and pulled it gently away. He pressed a kiss to his palm, nuzzling against it. He was shaking. Or Xie Lian was shaking enough for both of them. Then he turned and kissed Xie Lian instead, the normal flavor of his kiss heavy with salt and something sour.

“It’s okay,” Hua Cheng soothed him, over and over. “It’s okay, gege. This one is fine. Can gege try controlling his breathing?”

Xie Lian made a sound he hoped was affirmative. His hand fumbled into Hua Cheng’s hair, sliding through perfect, silk-like strands, snarled and ruined by the sweat of his palms. He dragged in a breath and held it. The feeling in his body wasn’t panic, but his body knew panic so much better than what it was. It blurred the lines, and drove him towards an edge he didn’t recognize.

He choked around his exhale in a sob, and pressed his face to Hua Cheng’s robe.

“I’m so sorry,” he moaned, or something like it. He wasn’t sure he was capable of speech.

“There is nothing gege needs to apologize for." Hua Cheng’s voice was low, and his smell and body and presence were all around Xie Lian like a blanket— Like a shield against the pressing memories of his own body, trapped and broken and desperate. “Just keep breathing.”

Hua Cheng’s fingers are driving him wild. He’s made sure Xie Lian watched as he carefully altered his skin. First he'd shortened only the claw at the tip of one finger, then he'd lifted his hand again to let Xie Lian watch the second nail dull and retract. Then the third.

Now they press inside him, stretching him, preparing him. The air in the temple is thick with the sound of his panting, and the smell of the oil San Lang prefers to use with him, and the heat of his body, burning so high that it feels like he’s warmed the whole temple with his pleasure alone.

‘Help me,’ an echo of a man he used to be cries, voice ragged as he watches the sword. ‘Help me!’

The temple around him is colorful; he is warm, and safe. If he called for help, those strong arms holding and stretching him would help him. One holds him around his waist, anchored and steady. The other pushes strong fingers in and in and in, searching and stretching and playing inside him.

“In me,” Xie Lian orders instead of pleading. He arches against his bonds, fingers twining and clawing in the silk that holds him in place, since he can’t grab Hua Cheng. “San Lang, San Lang, in me.”

He gets no response, and it—

That’s not right.

The sense of wrongness drops through him like a sword. He forces his eyes off the colorful temple and onto the devastation who’s been teasing his body further and further open. Onto his beloved, who’s been silently serving him since they began.

San Lang is many things in bed, but silent—?

Hua Cheng is not looking at Xie Lian's face, and that alone is enough of a warning. Hua Cheng’s eye is fixed down on the skin over Xie Lian’s heart, staring at it as if transfixed. No, more like… As if terrified. His hands move, and he rubs against Xie Lian’s walls with care and precision, but—

His eye is glassy with tears, and his expression is tight with fear.

“San Lang?”

Xie Lian twists in his bonds, and watches the jolt it sends through Hua Cheng’s expression. The way his brows tighten and twist, the way he swallows, the way his fingers stretch inside him, pushing his body to fulfill Xie Lian’s need while leaving his mind behind.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian calls again, hoping he didn’t miss this for long— that Hua Cheng isn’t too far gone in whatever has caught him. “San Lang, look at me.”

Hua Cheng’s chin lifts automatically. His dazed eye fixes on Xie Lian’s gaze. He opens his mouth, draws a breath, and chokes on a sound of terror.

No silk could have been strong enough. Xie Lian shreds the bindings, and flings his arms around Hua Cheng at once. The shift rips his fingers out of him— too harsh— but he doesn’t care. The discomfort is slight, and Hua Cheng has fallen against him like snow in an avalanche— Gone from still and distant to a tumbling ruin in seconds, with barely a warning.

Hua Cheng hummed low in his chest, just on the edge between a droning comfort and a musical refrain. With one hand he stroked Xie Lian’s cheek, wiping away any tears that dared trace down his face. With the other he cradled his back, holding him close.

Xie Lian took a slow, deep breath against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice as rough as Hua Cheng’s was before, though for a completely different reason.

“Gege has nothing to apologize for.” Hua Cheng said, as he’d said each time Xie Lian tried to apologize. “Gege should drink a little.”

Xie Lian didn’t question the mug of steaming tea that Hua Cheng picked up from beside them, as if it had been there all along. He just fumbled for it, twisting until he was curled with his back to Hua Cheng’s chest, cuddling the tea before him.

“All this time,” Xie Lian said, staring at the dark shadow of his own face in the tea’s surface, “I’ve hoped I could welcome you back like this. And yet, it turns out that this scrap god cannot even do so simple a thing without ruining—”

“No.”

Hua Cheng’s voice was so abruptly hard after his softness that it made Xie Lian startle. The tea was only warm, not boiling, but it stung where it touched his finger. He wouldn’t have noticed at all if not for the butterfly that alighted on his fingers, pouring gentle energy into his slightly-aching skin.

Hua Cheng’s arms wrapped around his stomach, and he rested his head on Xie Lian’s shoulder. Xie Lian took a moment to let out a breath of laughter at how he must have bent himself down to manage it. His long legs were spread on either side of Xie Lian’s, crossed at the ankles, encircling him where he sat curled against him.

“Nothing is ruined.” Hua Cheng’s breath was cold against his bare shoulder, but his words were so full of warmth it was breathtaking. “To have gege offer this one such a thing— This one can never say what it means. But this is still new to gege, and this one wasn’t careful with him. Forgive your unworthy believer, your highness.”

“San Lang’s done nothing wrong.” Xie Lian argued in return, leaning back more heavily against him and letting his eyes fall closed. His heart was still beating too fast in his chest, like a small creature living inside him. He almost called Ruoye to hold, but… But Hua Cheng’s arms around him were what he really wanted, so he settled into that embrace, and took a slow, shaking sip of his tea.

It was warm, and rich, and floral, and it pooled warm in his chest, chasing out the fear.

“Hmm.” Hua Cheng nosed at the place where his neck and shoulder joined.

“What’s San Lang thinking?” Xie Lian asked in reply, ready to straighten up and fight back if Hua Cheng was going to apologize again.

“Does gege know why this San Lang finds this moment to be such a treasure?” Hua Cheng kissed the back of Xie Lian’s neck with unbearable tenderness, then settled back into place, curled around him.

“Hm… I think probably because of a lot of things?” Xie Lian guessed. “But if San Lang wanted to enlighten this one…”

“Very wise, gege. A lot of things,” Hua Cheng agreed, nodding against Xie Lian’s bared shoulder. “All of those things are you, your highness.”

Xie Lian drew a deep breath, cradling the teacup, and let his eyes fall closed in pleasure.

“That you chose me,” Hua Cheng sighed against his shoulder. “That you took me into your home. That you sought out my company. That you trusted me despite all reasons not to. And now, in addition to the pure golden glory of his highness’s priceless heart, he would entrust this humble ghost with his earthly body? Finer than any statue could have dreamed? More powerful than all of the heavens? As shapely and beautiful as— gege, stop laughing, this one is very serious.”

Xie Lian was indeed laughing. He couldn’t help it. Such ardent, sincere words, whispered in a tickling, cool breath against his neck? So shameless and precious? How could he not laugh? He laughed in little hiccups that were next door neighbors to his former sobs, until Hua Cheng plucked the tea from his hands, and shooed the butterfly away from his hands to draw him closer into a hug.

“Gege could never ruin anything between us.” Hua Cheng tucked his chin over Xie Lian’s head and cradled him close. “This one only wants to be with him, and help him feel as good as he can feel.”

Xie Lian felt that warmth pooling low in his body again, and this time he let it happen without latching onto it. He breathed slow and deep, and curled his hand around the braid Hua Cheng wore, holding the red pearl there.

“I’d like to try again,” he whispered, “but slowly. Does San Lang think that’s okay?”

“San Lang thinks,” Hua Cheng tilted his head to nuzzle into Xie Lian’s hair. “That gege has all the best ideas.”

“Dianxia, dianxia, dianxia...” Hua Cheng is whispering, tiny, broken calls against Xie Lian’s chest. He’s said nothing else since he shattered. It's like he’s trapped somewhere else. Xie Lian tries so hard not to think of that night, but he knows for certain what lodged itself in his beloved’s memory.

“It’s okay,” Xie Lian answers him, curled in the mass of pillows and blankets before the altar with Hua Cheng pressed as close as he can get to his chest. “San Lang, it’s okay. This one is just fine. Don’t be afraid.”

Hua Cheng is wrapped up in his arms, Xie Lian’s knees drawn up to cradle his shaking body as well where he halfway lays in his lap. He’s so big, but he makes himself small in his hunched shoulders, and his gasping breaths, and his trembling hands knotting themselves in Xie Lian’s loose robes.

“I can’t,” Hua Cheng gasps against him, choking on his own breath. “I can’t.”

It’s a step up from only ‘dianxia,’ but it breaks Xie Lian’s heart into pieces. His poor beloved…

“San Lang doesn’t have to.” He soothes, stroking a hand over the back of his head, over the fall of his hair, over his tense, trembling shoulders. “San Lang doesn’t have to do anything. We’re done. I promise. It’s okay.”

Hua Cheng outright sobs, and Xie Lian answers the sound with a weak, sorrowful noise of his own. It’s a wound. He’s never seen Hua Cheng cry. He hadn’t even considered the possibility before. He’s strikingly quiet, like a child trying not to make a sound. His miserable sounds stay choked in the back of his throat, even as they jolt his whole body.

Xie Lian rubs the back of his neck and speaks kind words to him. He doesn’t know what to say, really, but anything has to be better than leaving Hua Cheng to choke back his sobs in silence.

Part of him wants to scold his beloved for not saying ‘no.’ For not backing off to protect himself. But if there was ever a time to scold Hua Cheng, this is not it. His sweet ghost king, who seems to take his every word to heart— He can’t imagine giving that heart an unkind word when it already seems so close to breaking.

“My beloved,” he whispers instead, holding San Lang’s shaking body close and rocking with him slowly, “my beloved.”

Once, he caught a child falling from a great height— just a little scrap of a thing, too scrawny for his age. He held onto Xie Lian’s clothes as though he had found the one good thing in the world. Back then, Xie Lian was surrounded by goodness, and didn’t understand the desperation.

Now when Hua Cheng holds his clothes the same way, lying before the altar, rattled by centuries-old grief and pain, Xie Lian understands it. He gathers Hua Cheng fully into his lap, nevermind that it’s awkward. He’s strong enough to do it, so he does. He cradles him against his chest, while Hua Cheng shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

Xie Lian tells him ‘it’s okay.’ Then, when he thinks Hua Cheng might be getting bored of that, he tells him ‘you’re so wonderful.’ And when that makes him flinch and sob harder, biting his lip to silence himself, Xie Lian bites his own lip in return, and lets silence fall. He lets his hands speak for him, since he doesn’t have the right words. He holds Hua Cheng as close as he can, and presses their heads together to ride out the pain.

He doesn’t want to remember— He can’t risk remembering while Hua Cheng is still hurting— but he distantly recalls a second voice screaming while he died. That’s more than enough for him to put the final pieces together. He’d suspected, of course— his mind has drawn the trail of that loyal ghost fire at some point over the last 20 years— but they so rarely talk of the past.

The present is so much kinder to them both.

Xie Lian sits against the altar, and looks up at the beautiful temple around them. He thinks of piles of blankets and pillows, making the altar look like something else. Maybe something a ghost could stand to see his beloved splayed out and struggling upon.

He doesn’t count time as they lay together. He doesn’t have room for anything but worry, and love. He forgets, sometimes. He still forgets. He forgets that there’s someone who will care if he’s hurt. He forgets how deeply San Lang is affected by any reminder of his suffering. He forgets how intensely he is loved.

He strokes Hua Cheng’s hair, and looks up at the colorful decorations in the temple that he didn’t think to ask for, and Hua Cheng gave him anyway. He wants to laugh, and cry, and kiss his beloved in thanks and apology both. Instead, for the moment, he just keeps stroking his hair and holding him close. He closes his eyes, and feels something moving deep inside him, growing stronger with every heartbeat.

“What if I never can?” Xie Lian asked while Hua Cheng stroked his body in long, leisurely touches.

“Then we will figure out what gege does like, and what feels good, and what he would enjoy.” Hua Cheng answered decisively, still wrapped around him and not looking like he planned to go anywhere else. Maybe not ever.

“But if San Lang needs—”

“This San Lang only needs to be close to gege. Anything else is okay. If gege only wanted to use this one as a bed mattress and a stepping stool, this one would still be happy.”

Xie Lian reached back and pinched his ribs in rebuke at the very thought, and Hua Cheng laughed behind him, warm and rough and happy.

“I’m doing that thing again, aren’t I.” Xie Lian said abruptly, watching Hua Cheng’s hand brush up and down his chest, always returning to his heartbeat. “Worrying, when you keep telling me to just do as I want.”

“Mm.” A kiss meets his ear from behind, and Xie Lian’s face goes hot and dizzy. “Gege is insightful.”

“Is that what San Lang is doing?” The teeth nibbling at his ear lobe and the tongue probing his piercing were distracting, but Xie Lian had always been good at working through distraction. “Doing as he wants?”

“Does gege mind?” Hua Cheng’s voice was very low and soft, cold against his thoroughly kissed earlobe.

“Not at all,” Xie Lian wondered if his voice should be breathy, and found himself a little sad that it wasn’t. “This one was only worried that San Lang was… Was working hard for this one, without regard for himself.”

“Gege,” Hua Cheng’s fingers slid up his throat before resting on his jawline. They steered Xie Lian's head to the side so they could gaze at each other. “This San Lang is being completely selfish.”

“Ah,” Xie Lian suddenly found that the breathy quality his voice had been missing came naturally. “Then… Then San Lang should continue that. This one wants to spoil him.”

Xie Lian becomes aware, as he strokes Hua Cheng’s hair, that he isn’t shaking anymore. He tilts back slowly, checking in on him. Perhaps it was all too much for his ghost king, and he’s asleep? But no, as soon as there’s an inch of space, there’s a large, obsidian eye staring up at him, like he’s the only star in an empty sky.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian breathes in relief and greeting. “Are you back?”

He doesn’t mean to let his voice crack with fear, but it does. He won’t let his hands shake, but they want to. Hua Cheng shook in his arms mere moments ago, and it felt so wrong that he doesn’t have words for it. Hua Cheng has always been untouchable.

“Gege,” San Lang murmurs, and moves at last. His arms, once bunched in Xie Lian’s robes and clinging, untwine and wrap around him, locking them together even more tightly. His face, still salty with tears, rubs against Xie Lian’s cheek, like a wild creature seeking affection.

Xie Lian gives it gladly. He presses soft kisses against Hua Cheng’s cheek in return, and rubs up and down his spine, pausing now and then to dig his fingers into tight pockets of muscle, chasing away the last shaking tension in him.

“Forgive me.” That beloved voice rasps by Xie Lian’s ear.

“Hush.” Xie Lian scolds in return, and lightly pinches Hua Cheng’s ribs in rebuke. “This one won’t accept apologies for this.”

A puff of laughter answers him, and he feels his whole body relax at how normal that is. His head spins with relief, and he has to close his eyes against it, his pulse thundering strong inside his body. He feels Hua Cheng shifting their positions, and lets him. There is nothing his beloved would ever do to him that he would not welcome.

Hua Cheng lets out a small laugh again as he draws Xie Lian into his own lap. Xie Lian answers it with a soft smile as his beloved carefully shifts his open robes to hide his soft cock and body. As if Hua Cheng had never seen it before, and Xie Lian was still that stumbling, blushing creature who first came undone in his arms.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian says then, curling into his embrace. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hm…” Hua Cheng is silent for a long moment, but it isn’t like the silence of before. It’s only a thoughtful pause, not a devastating breakdown.

“Gege rarely asks for anything.” Hua Cheng answers him at last, pressing his nose into Xie Lian’s hair and inhaling deeply, as though the scent of his dried sweat is precious to him.

It probably is, Xie Lian thinks with a flush.

“So San Lang wanted to indulge me?” He clarifies, and receives a hum of agreement. “Ah, truly, San Lang is too generous with this one… To put himself in such a position…”

“Gege shouldn't blame himself." Hua Cheng caught onto that particular note in his voice quickly, Xie Lian thinks to himself with an undeniable pleasure. "You didn’t know.”

“Do you think this gege would have asked for the such thing if he’d known it might hurt you?” Xie Lian asks, reaching back to touch Hua Cheng’s face. His fingers bump into his eyepatch first, but Hua Cheng still only nuzzles against them, tilting his head until Xie Lian can stroke his cheek.

“This one thinks gege never does anything for himself for fear of hurting others.” Hua Cheng says with a startlingly sharp tone. “And he regrets only not performing well.”

Xie Lian scowls. He lets Hua Cheng get away with a lot. His ghost king is thoroughly spoiled by this point, and he intends to keep it that way. But there are some lines that should be drawn.

So he pulls away from Hua Cheng’s squeezing embrace— (Hua Cheng releases him at the first sign of resistance)— twists to straddle his lap— (that dark obsidian eye is staring at him, still filled with some unnamed hunger)— and takes his face in both hands.

“San Lang,” he says, clear and strong, “do you think this god wants a performance from you?”

Hua Cheng stares up at him from that dark eye, a shining worship in his gaze.

“No, Taizi Dianxia,” he whispers as if in prayer.

“What has this one asked from you?” Xie Lian prompts, stroking his thumbs over the cheeks in his grasp.

“For this one to do as he wants.” Hua Cheng supplies at once. “But gege—”

He cuts himself off, brows knitting, clearly hesitant to argue against his god. Xie Lian bends and presses a slow kiss to his lips.

“Tell me,” he commands, feeling silly in his open robe, straddling his lover’s lap, and using what Hua Cheng affectionately calls his ‘god voice.’

He’s never teasing when he says it, but Xie Lian still always moans and covers his face in overwhelming embarrassment.

“This one really did want to.” Hua Cheng says, hands sliding up Xie Lian’s bare size in a shivering, tickling touch. “He built this place as a safe place for his god. That dianxia finds it safe enough for such a thing? That dianxia finds this ghost safe enough to ask him? This one was beyond honored. Beyond thrilled.”

“And then?” Xie Lian prompts.

He feels Hua Cheng’s jaw muscles tighten under his touch. Hua Cheng looks away at last, cutting his gaze to the side.

“This one got lost.” He mutters. “Gege doesn’t have to worry.”

“If I had to worry, it wouldn’t mean anything.” Xie Lian presses a long kiss to his forehead this time. “I choose to worry. San Lang knows why.”

Hua Cheng nods, and the cheeks Xie Lian holds twitch up into a smile.

“Because gege loves this one.” He whispers, as if it were a secret and not a nightly mantra that Xie Lian screams in one of their beds or another. Surely by this point the walls of their bedroom in Paradise Manor, the entire house on Taicang Mountain, and Qiandeng Temple itself must have absorbed and remembered such cries...

“Because this one loves San Lang.” Xie Lian agrees, despite the way his cheeks heat up. “And wants to make him happy. Not just at peace, San Lang! Don’t talk about me climbing over you or standing on your back again.”

“Maybe this San Lang really would enjoy that.” Hua Cheng purrs with a predatory note in his voice. Xie Lian tuts at him, and pinches his left cheek between his thumb and pointer finger.

Then Hua Cheng’s smile fades into something softer. He looks down, his eye going distant and his expression turning fond. Xie Lian settles in place, letting Hua Cheng zone out looking at his chest without complaint for once. Resting in the center of his sternum, the ring gleams in the diffuse light within the temple.

There’s a moment of just that. Of both of them, calm again, breathing through the reminder. Or, well, Xie Lian might be pushing it away for the moment, but… But it’s good. It’s good that he can push it away. It’s good that Hua Cheng broke down, instead of running, or hiding it all behind smiles. It’s good that they can be weak.

It’s good to admit what hurts.

Then Hua Cheng takes a deep breath, slides his hands down Xie Lian’s body, and…

Lifts his soft cock in two delicate fingers, placing it in his palm, as if measuring.

“Hm,” he says, and nods. “Gege, let me practice my sword swallowing soon?”

Xie Lian stares down at him, feeling heat crawl its way up his whole body. He squeals in objection, and shakes Hua Cheng by his shoulders as the wicked ghost laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

“San Lang, so rude! Don’t tease me!” He cries, but he’s laughing too. He’s laughing so hard it hurts just beneath his lungs, and Hua Cheng is wrapping his arms around him, howling with amusement.

“San Lang promised to forget that!” Xie Lian objects between gales of laughter.

“Never, never!” Hua Cheng swears. “This one will always remember every word gege says!”

Xie Lian always knows the best way to silence Hua Cheng when he’s in a wicked mood. He’s grateful for it for more than one reason. The kiss is messy. Both of them are grinning. They keep breaking away to laugh again, and then kissing more— sharp teeth, and snorting chuckles.

“I-is it normal to like this?” Xie Lian asked, voice high-pitched with stress and pleasure.

“Why is gege still worried about what’s normal?” Hua Cheng’s voice was calm and quiet as if his wet fingertips, covered in Xie Lian’s own saliva, weren’t still trailing across, and pinching, and rubbing at his nipples. “Does gege like this?”

“Yes— no— I— It’s strange.” Xie Lian confessed, squirming in Hua Cheng’s lap.

Hua Cheng slowed down. Traced his fingers together to lace over Xie Lian’s chest, as if to hold himself back from doing more.

“This one got impatient again,” he scolded himself. “He promised gege to go nice and slow so he could figure out his feelings.”

“And he’s been so good.” Xie Lian praised, tugging one of Hua Cheng’s hands by the wrist.

He may have been shy, and inexperienced, but he was no coward. He took the fingers back in his mouth. There was at least no doubt that he liked this . It felt good, and comforting having Hua Cheng’s heavy, solid fingers in his mouth, no longer as passive as they were at first. Now they tangled with his tongue, and explored his teeth, and rubbed against the roof of his mouth, as if exploring the texture.

Xie Lian sucked against them, and Hua Cheng’s breath hitched again. He could feel something long and wicked, hard against his back. He didn’t let himself worry about it. Hua Cheng was doing what he wanted, and Xie Lian was trying to learn.

He wondered what it would be like to have that in his mouth, and moaned around his fingers at the thought. Why was the thought so effortlessly erotic, when actually doing it would have been—

“Ah,” Hua Cheng squeaked, a note of praise and surprise in his voice. “Gege, look! Your blushes start from your waist and go all the way up you! I never knew!”

“San Lang!” Xie Lian complained. Or, well, he tried to. His mouth was a little full.

Hua Cheng seemed to like that. He gave a little moan, and kissed the top of Xie Lian’s shoulder.

Xie Lian would have been content like that forever. He’d have made peace with it being enough— more than enough. Sucking on Hua Cheng’s fingers, while the ghost king who loved him sighed and rolled his hips cautiously against his back; while he held him with one palm pressed flat over his heartbeat, and Xie Lian’s exposed body between his legs.

But he’d spent 800 years making his peace and being content with his broken life. And San Lang…

San Lang made him feel safe to want more.

So he took Hua Cheng’s fingers out of his mouth, and drew them back down to his nipple, and said: “Softly at first.”

They aren’t just kissing anymore, but Xie Lian hesitates to acknowledge that fact aloud. Hua Cheng is kissing him like the world is ending, and it makes his body feel alive in ways he once thought were lost to him.

He rolls his hips into Hua Cheng’s touch, which may have started as a joke, but wasn’t one now. He bites at the ghost king’s lips, and sucks at his tongue, and moans into his mouth. It’s shameless, and dirty, and it took him nearly a decade to allow himself to be those things. Now he revels in it. Wasn’t he already shameless and dirty, crawling in the mud? Now, at least, he enjoys it.

Still, this time his concerns are too important to cover up. Both of them are too raw, and Xie Lian has seen enough— has done enough— to know that sex with Hua Cheng is wonderful , but it also isn’t a healing spell.

(Though the copious amounts of spiritual energy certainly manage to deal with any physical discomforts well enough…)

“San Lang,” He pants, pulling back.

Hua Cheng grunts his attention, but immediately twists his head to start planting open-mouthed kisses down his neck, lavishing attention on his vulnerable throat.

“Is it— Ah!” He breaks off to cup the back of Hua Cheng’s head, steering him back to the place where he’d just bitten. “Is it okay? To do this? I don’t want— Nn!” He tugs on his hair, but Hua Cheng is relentless, sucking on the skin where he’d been directed until releasing with a pop and a wry laugh.

“What doesn’t gege want?” He asks warmly, seeming entirely back to himself, his eye flashing with wicked pleasure.

But Xie Lian has seen him wear that look too often, and occasionally thinks of taking after his guoshi in one more way and scolding San Lang for his false smiles.

“I don’t want to scare you again,” he says, refusing to be deterred.

Hua Cheng stills, then smiles at him. It’s a softer, realer smile, so Xie Lian shoos away thoughts of scolding him. For a moment it’s quiet; just them in an empty temple, safe and together.

“Will gege talk to me?” Hua Cheng asks, the request genuine, and therefore far rarer even than Xie Lian’s own requests in the bedroom.

“En,” Xie Lian soothes. “The whole time. San Lang will want to hear that he’s doing well?”

“San Lang will want to hear that gege is feeling well.” Hua Cheng says in return, shaking his head. “That he’s safe. That he likes it.”

Normally, Xie Lian would tease him about fishing for praise.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts!

Instead, he kisses him, slow and soft, then nods his approval. He understands.

“Does gege have to be tied?” Hua Cheng asks, his voice just on the edge of playful, but clearly tight and fragile.

“No.” Xie Lian assures him, standing and pulling Hua Cheng to his feet as well. He grimaces at the feeling of the slick oil still on his stretched hole, not yet put to any good use. “Will San Lang help me put the cushions back on the altar?”

“Gege changed his mind?”

Is that relief in his voice? Really, Xie Lian thinks, the scourge of heaven is in truth a soul too gentle for words…

“Ah, actually…” He stoops to pick up one of the pillows, settling it high on the altar as Hua Cheng shakes out the blankets onto the surface with easy, self assured motions. “This one was thinking maybe San Lang could lie back on them while this one…?”

“Oh,” Hua Cheng replies, and Xie Lian doesn’t miss the way his whole body tightens with interest.

Hua Cheng’s tongue licked a broad, wet stripe over Xie Lian’s palm, then he lowered their hands together.

“Gently at first,” he advised, steering Xie Lian’s hand to his own hot, swollen flesh. Xie Lian looked down at his own body like a stranger’s, his palm resting just against the side of his penis. It wasn’t long like Hua Cheng’s, but he didn’t think it was unpleasant? As penises went?

Still, even with Hua Cheng steering his motion, smooth and slow and steady, working him up from nothing back to being achingly hard, it was all so… “I d-don’t know if I can—”

“Does it feel bad?”

Hua Cheng’s voice rumbled against his back. Xie Lian bit his lip, trying to think. His palm was hot, and Hua Cheng’s spit was cold, and he wasn’t really doing anything; just holding his hand there against it, and it still—

“It’s not bad.” He answered at last.

Hua Cheng hummed, then drew Xie Lian’s hand up and away again, nuzzling against his slightly-damp palm, leaning over his shoulder to do it.

“Am I taking too long?” Xie Lian asked.

“Your highness,” Hua Cheng whispered. “I used to search for weeks and months to catch just a glimpse of you. I sought you for 800 years. There is nothing I want but your time. So for me? This is heaven.”

Xie Lian laughed despite himself. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He couldn’t see Hua Cheng’s face like this, but he could feel his wide hand splayed out over his stomach, feeling for his every breath and twitch. Hua Cheng was pressed against him from behind, bent over one of his shoulders to watch his body. He nuzzled into Xie Lian’s palm again, then gave it a soft kiss.

“Okay,” Xie Lian whispered. “I’m ready. You’re sure you don’t want to—”

“This one wants to work with gege.” Hua Cheng purred. “And help him find what feels the best at his own hand first.”

“What feels best for San Lang?” Xie Lian asked, tilting his head back towards him.

“Nothing I would want for gege.” Hua Cheng chuckled. “This one always gets impatient with himself.”

Xie Lian couldn’t imagine him impatient in comparison to that moment. Hua Cheng was licking his palm again with broad sweeps of his tongue, not even stopping at just one, but lavishing his skin with attention and wetness before lowering it again. Xie Lian tried to envision what he would look like being 'impatient' with himself, and caught a breath at the vision that entered his head. Hua Cheng violently working at himself, snarling in impatience, as violent as he was beautiful.

“Fuck,” whispered Xie Lian, his hips lifting at the first touch of his own hand against his swollen—

“Gege!” Hua Cheng gasped, flinching both of their hands away. “Gege, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Xie Lian took a shallow breath. “Nothing, I— I thought of you and—”

A moment’s pause, then Hua Cheng’s hand was on his again, guiding him into slow motion against himself. “Oh? Gege likes to think of me? Tell me what you thought of.”

He guided Xie Lian’s hand up, then down again. He paused at the base, gently taking Xie Lian’s fingers and curling them one by one.

“I thought,” Xie Lian whispered, feeling his body start to tremble and Hua Cheng’s fingers on his stomach stroking up and down in comfort, “of San Lang being… Being rough with himself…”

“Oh? Would gege like to be rough with this one?”

“No,” Xie Lian objects at once. “No. San Lang deserves tenderness more than anyone. But… But to see you like that…”

“Would gege like to see this one?”

“I— I don’t know if I can—”

“Shh,” San Lang nuzzled the join of his neck and shoulder again. “Don't worry about can . Just what you want , gege.”

“I… Tell me.” Xie Lian requested instead. “Tell me what… What your dream for us would be.”

“Hmm,” Xie Lian's hand was steered up, then down. Up again, and then Hua Cheng guided his hand to twist lightly at the end before dragging back down. Xie Lian made a small, strained noise, and struggled to keep from bucking up into San Lang’s hand and losing control like he had in his mouth.

“My dream,” Hua Cheng whispered. “Would be gege so comfortable and confident, that he rules this humble follower without fear or question. Chases his pleasure using this one’s body. Lets this one inside him, or puts his beautiful cock inside this one.”

“Ah- ah- Sa-San Lang, it’s a little—”

Hua Cheng pulled his hand away from his cock, and drew it up to his mouth again. Licked his palm over and over, then lowered their hands again. This time, Xie Lian curled his fingers himself, and Hua Cheng kissed his cheek in praise.

“Gege will be so beautiful,” he whispered. “Spread out beneath this one being spoiled, or above him in all his majesty. This one is so grateful for this opportunity to worship his highness. To see him as no other has seen him.”

“Is—” Xie Lian cut himself off. It had been so long since he cared, but… “Is this one… Pleasant to look at?” He asked, looking down at his own body at a loss. Once, he was called beautiful beyond comparison. Once, his body was a treasure more precious than any gold. Once, he would not have hesitated. But all of that was a long time ago.

He shouldn’t have worried.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng breathed against him, wrapping his arm more tightly around Xie Lian’s middle, tilting their heads so tightly together that Xie Lian could feel the straps of his eyepatch, “You’re the most beautiful person this humble ghost has ever seen, in all these hundreds of years. No painting, no statue, no words could capture the beauty of you in reality.”

“A-Ah, San Lang…” he hadn't thought it would affect him like this, but he was rolling his hips now, rutting into his own hand. Hua Cheng was still guiding him, but it felt almost like he doesn’t have to. “Why does that feel so—”

“Let me paint this, gege.” Hua Cheng gasped against his shoulder, and Xie Lian realized what he’d been feeling pressed against his back and hips from behind. “Your highness, let me paint how I see you in this moment. You’re so beautiful…”

“I can’t be,” Xie Lian bit his lip. “I’m so— So awkward and—”

“Your highness has the grace of a natural talent,” Hua Cheng purred. “To watch his body in motion in any way is a revelation, whether fighting, or grinding his cock into this one’s unworthy mouth.”

“Ah!” Xie Lian gave a soft gasp, scrambling with his free hand until he clawed it back into Hua Cheng’s hair. He held him behind his head, clinging on as Hua Cheng guided him strokes that suddenly felt too slow.

“Will gege let this one take him one day?” Hua Cheng whispered against his neck. “Will he let this one’s unworthy cock inside him? This one promises to be so careful, and so gentle with gege’s precious—”

“San Lang!” Xie Lian cried, bucking into his own hand and clenching his fist roughly in Hua Cheng’s hair. “Yes! Take me! Fuck me! San Lang!”

Hua Cheng gasped behind him, but Xie Lian barely heard him over the sound that tore free from him. He was right at the edge of something. Hua Cheng’s hand squeezed around his own, and he thought of Hua Cheng’s cock buried deep inside him and—

It was overwhelming. It was the end of something. More importantly, it was the beginning.

It went on for a very, very long time.

“Is San Lang comfortable?”

“Gege, if this one were more comfortable he would fall asleep.”

Xie Lian smiles down at him, and tucks Hua Cheng’s hair behind his pointed ear. Then he leans down, and kisses that ear as well, nipping at its point. It always makes Hua Cheng’s breath hitch.

“How was this one so lucky…?” Hua Cheng sighs, sounding dazed.

Ah, Xie Lian thinks, it does that quite often too.

He doesn’t bother arguing that it wasn’t luck, but Hua Cheng’s unending well of devotion, persistence, adoration, and dedication that made it possible. Hua Cheng will always scoff ‘but none of that made gege like me,’ no matter how often Xie Lian reminds him that he would not have survived without Hua Cheng’s love.

Xie Lian rescues the thin braid and its pearl from the fall of Hua Cheng’s long dark hair off the side of the altar— jet black against the lush red bedding. He presses a kiss to the pearl, then sets it on his pale chest, resting just beneath his collarbones.

“Beautiful,” he praises, sitting back where he straddles his beloved. “To think once I had to live in a world without such a view.”

“How sad for gege,” Hua Cheng agrees, though he’s getting fidgety again in a way that speaks to a lingering anxiety.

Xie Lian strokes his hands down his broad chest; over muscles and ribs, then back up to his nipples. Hua Cheng’s might well be as sensitive as his own, but if they are then Hua Cheng enjoys the pain of having them overworked.  Xie lian pinches and twists without fear, rough fingers harsh on his beloved’s body.

Hua Cheng had begged him for it night after night until he accepted that was a genuine desire and not some strange self-flagellation. Now, Hua Cheng shifts beneath him, sucking in a breath and pressing up into his touch greedily.

He truly is a beautiful sight. Xie Lian does not know any poems that could match the way that he is beautiful. He is beautiful because he is real. He is beautiful because he stayed. The grievous death scar below his ribs is sensitive, and Xie Lian bends to lavish it with affectionate kisses while still letting his thumbs rub into Hua Cheng’s nipples. The skin of the scar is rough and churned— It never had the chance to heal. Xie Lian licks over it with a broad stripe of his tongue, and comforts himself with the reality of Hua Cheng’s answering moan.

He will always wish his beloved had lived, but he treasures the reality of what they have.

The scar is always soft and fresh; it aches in the rain, and will never settle. Hua Cheng smiles with a particularly sharp edge when it pains him. Xie Lian does not bite or nip at its edges— it would hurt rather than pleasing, and he will never give San Lang cruel touches. Rough ones, yes. But that is an indulgence, not a cruelty.

“Gege isn’t focusing.” Hua Cheng accuses, body twisting under him in both embarrassment and pleasure. His skin is cold, but Xie Lian feels the power running hot through him. At first it’s teasing, but he feels Hua Cheng’s breath hitch under his kisses. “Is— Does gege need to stop?”

“This gege is fine,” Xie LIan whispers, pressing a final kiss to his scar before sitting up to smile at him again. “Sorry, San Lang, this one let his mouth get busy when he promised to speak to you!”

“Nn. Gege can do as he likes with this one…”

“Hmm.” He spreads his hands over Hua Cheng’s bare chest, his pinched, swollen nipples hard nubs under his palms. Once he was embarrassed by his rough hands in bed. Now he thinks what a lovely contrast they are to Hua Cheng’s delicate skin.

“This one was thinking about how far we’ve come together,” He murmurs, bending over his body to tangle their lips together.

“Would gege like to come together again?” Hua Cheng asks, dirty smile clearly an intentional misreading of his words.

Xie Lian sighs, lifting one hand to his forehead and rubbing there. Under his body, Hua Cheng shakes with amusement, pleased with himself as ever.

“Well ,” Xie Lian says with a heavy sigh. “This one would hate to waste San Lang’s good work preparing him before.”

“Oh?” Immediately long-fingered hands are trailing up his thighs, skating delicately over Xie Lian’s muscles, pausing to squeeze and rub there.

Xie Lian rolls his hips, letting Hua Cheng enjoy the feeling. He even gamely clenches his ass for his beloved’s enjoyment, thrusting forward into the air. Hua Cheng hums in pleasure, squeezing the tight muscles of his ass before his fingers quest further in. Xie Lian bites his lip at the feeling of those fingers touching him from each side, pulling him open to test the give of his body. One finger on each side, then a third.

Xie Lian’s breath hitches as Hua Cheng considers. His eye is hooded in enjoyment as his clever fingers play with Xie Lian’s hole.

“Gege might find it a little tight,” he warns. “This one can work him open again?”

“A little more oil,” Xie Lian says, shaking his head. “Here.”

He taps the tip of Hua Cheng’s half-hard cock, smiling at the bead of precum that trails with his finger. He pops that finger delicately into his mouth. He doesn’t really enjoy the taste, but he loves the idea of it enough to accept it happily.

And there’s no doubting the effect it has on Hua Cheng, his body shivering head to toe and his pretty erection filling before his eyes. Xie Lian considers swallowing that long cock down— it never fails to render Hua Cheng speechless and gasping— but he doesn’t want him speechless tonight. He doesn’t want either of them speechless.

“My dear San Lang,” he says instead, rolling his own hardness against Hua Cheng’s, “You must tell this one if you find it uncomfortable again.”

“Yes dianxia,” Hua Cheng agrees at once, watching Xie Lian rub their erections together. He gestures, and the oil is in his hand again, as if it were never gone. Xie Lian has never asked how he does that, but he likes to believe there is at least some small benefit of worshipping a scrap-collecting god at work.

“So good,” Xie Lian praises, shivering as Hua Cheng’s graceful wrist tilts, and lets the stream of oil pour over their rutting cocks. “Ah, San Lang, is this one— Hnn— Supposed to tell you every time he feels good?”

“Yes, dianxia.” Hua Cheng replies again, with a significant amount of wicked delight.

“Ah, but—” He hisses in a breath as he wraps one hand around both their cocks, and Hua Cheng returns the gesture on the other side— a mirror of a time long past. “This one will— Surely San Lang would get bored of hearing it?”

“Never,” Hua Cheng replies at once, shockingly serious. “Gege, this one will never be tired of anything you say. Especially not if it is pleasure.”

He’s put 20 years of dedication into proving that statement thus far… If he’s not careful, Xie Lian will truly start to believe him.

“Mmn…” Xie Lian arches, pushing forward into their hands. “It… I feel good, San Lang… This one wants you inside…”

“Gege, where’s my please?” Hua Cheng pouts.

Xie Lian lets out a disbelieving laugh, then bends and kisses that precious pouting lip. The thought of Hua Cheng crying is still too close.

“Please may I have San Lang inside me?” He asks, tilting his head with the big goofy grin he used to throw at passers by when asking for change.

Hua Cheng’s eye sparkles with amusement as he hums in consideration, hips rolling up into their hands. His fingers brush Xie Lian’s wrist where they hold their cocks together, and it’s an unexpectedly intimate, arousing feeling. It makes his heart break open all over again, though he doesn’t know why.

He’s learned by now not to try to apply rational thought to everything that he feels in these moments. It’s safe to let go and just feel.

“Yes.” Hua Cheng murmurs. “Anything gege wants. Does gege want to stay on top?”

“Mmhmm.” Xie Lian replies, pumping their slick heats a couple more times before tangling his messy hand with Hua Cheng’s and drawing his knuckles up for a kiss. “This one wants San Lang to relax.”

“What else does gege want?” Hua Cheng asks, voice low and raw with desire and reverence.

“Ah, so many things,” Xie Lian shuffles forward onto his hips awkwardly. Hua Cheng reaches one hand around his thigh to help, though his version of helping is rubbing his oil-slick fingers around Xie Lian’s stretched hole. It is much more like teasing than actual assistance. If anything, the way he's moving makes his cock wobble while Xie Lian tries to hold it steady.

“Stop,” Xie Lian scolds, lightly slapping Hua Cheng’s erection when he realizes he’s doing it on purpose to tease him.

“Ah!” Hua Cheng arcs under him like the touch was electric, and Xie Lian resists the urge to put his face in his oil-coated hand. Of course Hua Cheng would enjoy having his penis slapped…

“So naughty.” He scolds.

“Gege could punish this one again.” Hua Cheng offers, expression delighted beyond belief.

Xie Lian stubbornly lines himself up and sinks down until the head of Hua Cheng's cock sinks inside him. He takes a deep breath, tucking his hips forward and grinding down onto Hua Cheng’s length. It is heavy, and real, and almost unpleasantly cool against his inner walls.

It’s not that he hasn’t gotten used to the sensation over the years, but rather that he can never seem to hold it in his mind. The reality of Hua Cheng’s long, cold erection pressing up into him— The weight and stretch of it— the way it feels so much deeper than it must be in reality— how it will only feel deeper and deeper the more he takes in.

He’s starving for it tonight. In these moments, with Hua Cheng deep inside him, and sighing his name, and their bodies moving together, Xie Lian feels safe.

He is safe, of course. He’s been safe for a long, long time now. Hua Cheng set him free, and protected him, and now Xie Lian has no need to fear anyone or anything. He is worshipped; he is loved; he is powerful.

And, he realizes as Hua Cheng whines under him and tries to roll his hips upwards, he is distracted again.

“Sorry, San Lang, sorry!” He says, smoothing both hands over the chest beneath him— broad and strong, with wiry muscles coiled in pleasure. He touches him all over as he adjusts to the penetration. One hand trails oil over his abused nipples; the other skates at the corner of his smile until Hua Cheng licks and kisses at his fingers.

“No apologies,” Hua Cheng rasps, rolling under him as Xie Lian finally starts actually moving. Hua Cheng was right— he’s a little tight— but he revels in that discomfort too. “Does gege feel—”

“So good.” Xie Lian soothes at once.

He cups the back of Hua Cheng’s neck and drags him up for a kiss, still rolling his hips down and down and down. His martial god strength and flexibility has never been more useful than it is in their bedrooms.

Hua Cheng moans at the feeling of being manhandled, and tangles his hands in Xie Lian’s hair.

“And San Lang?” Xie Lian prompts when he sets him back down on the altar, as delicately as he would release a captured butterfly.

“Gege— so good.” Hua Cheng replies. There’s a certain sort of haze that descends on him when Xie Lian takes charge. Something that makes his dark eye darker and his words slower. Xie Lian loves it. Xie Lian loves him.

“San Lang asked what else I wanted.” He says, keeping the steady rhythm of his hips moving even as he speaks, his hands resting on Hua Cheng’s chest to brace himself. In, in, in his body chants around him, and he tightens around Hua Cheng’s cock as he pulls back, to watch him groan and arch, seeking the contact. “Does he still want to know?”

“Yes.” Hua Cheng rasps. “Everything, gege. Everything you want.”

Xie Lian is fully aware that it’s not a request— it’s a promise to fulfill his wishes. He has to be careful commenting on items when they wander through Ghost City’s market together, or they’ll mysteriously appear by his bed by that evening. If he thinks of a food aloud, he has it to eat by the next day. If he sighs over some forgotten bauble, Hua Cheng finds it for him. He is incorrigible in his desire to give Xie Lian everything.

Xie Lian doesn’t have to be careful with this, though. In truth, there is very little he really, truly wants. He lets his mouth run away with him, and chases the pleasure of fucking himself on Hua Cheng’s lap.

“I want to live with you,” his voice shakes around the words. “I want to live with you so long that I forget being alone. I want you to never have to be afraid again, and only to be with me and be happy.”

Hua Cheng thrusts up into him hard, and Xie Lian doesn’t hold back his cry. He lets his head drop back, and his eyes fall closed as Hua Cheng drives up into him, three quick, rough thrusts, as if he couldn’t restrain his excitement at the thought.

“Gege, yes.” He says in breathless praise. “Yes!”

Xie Lian drags his nails down Hua Cheng’s chest, holding stone-still for Hua Cheng to fuck up into before he settles and surrenders control again. Xie Lian bears down harder this time. Drops his weight entirely onto Hua Cheng, then grinds in deeper, wanting every last inch inside him, wanting Hua Cheng undone and panting and happy, wanting his body to remember pleasure and pleasure and—

“I want—” He gasps, eyes flashing open to stare down at his beloved, “I want to fuck you in so many temples that’s all I can remember when I think of an altar!”

“Dianxia!” Hua Cheng cries out.

He’s so quick that Xie Lian has to laugh. A flurry of limbs, and a bump of their heads together, and an apology muffled by a deep, wet, inelegant kiss that’s all want and no beauty. He accepts it all with eager anticipation. Lets Hua Cheng flip their positions, and push one of his legs up and fuck him hard.

He anchors his hands on Hua Cheng’s shoulders, holding on for dear life as his ghost king opens him up and thrusts deeper and harder still. There’s a frantic energy to him, and Xie Lian refuses to inspect it, or understand it, or worry about it. He lets go, chanting ‘ah-ah-ah!’ because it’s all he can think, all he can feel. His head tips back, his own thick cock bouncing against his abdomen, no doubt leaving wet splatters of pre-cum across his stomach.

“More,” he gasps, greedy only for his beloved, fumbling one hand to twine into his hair. “San Lang, more.”

Hua Cheng slides his free hand between them. He often has an uncanny ability to multitask, but in his wild state he only holds on to Xie Lian’s slick cock, and lets the pounding he’s giving Xie Lian move him. The whole altar is jolting with his thrusts, threatening to buckle. The world becomes small and hot— the rough wet slap of their sex and the soft, shifting groans of the altar, and Xie Lian’s desperate vocalizations fill the temple, mingling with the colorful silks, and the scent of incense.

Xie Lian looks up at the ghost above him, a delirious smile carved on his face and his eye shining in want and pleasure and mischief. Above him, the temple is colorful. Below him, the altar is soft with blankets, transformed for his comfort. His body sings with pleasure, threatening to come apart in a way that still feels new.

His vision blurs with tears, and he gives a breathless, delighted laugh. Then he cums, with Hua Cheng’s name burning in his throat; Hua Cheng’s cock deep inside him; Hua Cheng’s hand bruising his thigh; Hua Cheng's hand cradling his cock; Hua Cheng’s adoration touching his every curve, his every thought, his every moment.

The world goes white at the force of it, and he laughs aloud again, desperately chasing that high; head thrown back, hands clawed on his beloved’s shoulders, and tears tracing fire down his temples.

He comes back to himself held tight in Hua Cheng’s arms, with his beloved kissing away his tears. His whole body is shaking and weak, and he loves it. He wraps a leg around Hua Cheng’s hips, urging them forward again.

“Finish,” he commands blearily. “I want—”

He can't seem to put it in words. Hua Cheng obeys him nonetheless. He doesn’t pin him again, but grinds into him, a deep, beloved pressure inside him. Xie Lian clenches around him, his overstimulated body quaking at the feeling of more pleasure. It’s nearly unbearable. He drags Hua Cheng’s mouth to his, and kisses him. Bites his lips until they almost taste like blood, and drowns himself in his kiss.

Hua Cheng rolls into him three more times, then his hips jerk and shudder, and Xie Lian sighs in pleasure at the cold kiss of his cum inside.

“I’m so, hahahaha, so sorry,” Xie Lian said again, babbling and laughing and alarmed. “I can’t seem to— haha— to stop!”

“It’s okay,” Hua Cheng chuckled in his ear, sliding his hand up and down Xie Lian’s side. Splattered across his torso was the physical marker of this abrupt change in him; white and sticky and strange.

“Isn’t it… Don’t you find it gross?” Xie Lian asked, bordering on hysterical. He’s shaking head to foot, his body still buzzing and awake and he doesn’t remember the last time he felt this alive. It’s frightening, but he doesn’t want to be frightened.

“If gege would allow it, this one would be delighted to lick it off him.” Hua Cheng replied, hands rubbing down to Xie Lian’s trembling thighs and resting there.

“Surely not.” Xie Lian laughed, the sound quaking with his body.

As if taking it as a dare, one of Hua Cheng’s fingers swiped through the mess. Xie Lian’s eyes tracked it, twisting until he could watch Hua Cheng pop that finger in his mouth and hum in pleasure, closing his eye. Xie Lian frowned at him in confusion, then swiped his own finger through the mess, licking it cautiously. He barked another wild laugh.

“San Lang, it’s so awful! Spit it out, spit it out, you don’t have to pretend to enjoy it.”

Hua Cheng cracked his eye open again, but only to hpld eye contact with him, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked on his own finger. Then he lifted his chin so Xie Lian could watch his throat bob as he swallowed.

“This one likes it.” he said, grinning with his wicked sharp fangs on display.

Xie Lian felt the blood rushing all sorts of places it shouldn’t in his body. He should have scrambled away and tried to regain his dignity. Instead, he twisted around onto his knees, still bracketed by Hua Cheng’s legs. The ghost king's robes were still loose, so it was easy to push them open; to find his slowly-drooping penis, and the splatters of white staining his body and clothes.

Daringly, Xie Lian pushed his hand against that mess, and Hua Cheng grunted in pleasure, or surprise, or maybe discomfort? He’d ask. But first he had to try—

He licked at his palm— at the splatters of white he’d scooped up. Hua Cheng was staring at him, frozen leaning back on one arm, his hair a disaster and his body pale under his red, red robes.

It really was salty; sour, a little strange, and the consistency wasn’t very good, but in truth… Well, Xie Lian had cooked worse just a week ago.

He smiled as he swallowed, still shivering and his body boiling hot.

“Mm, San Lang’s is better.” He said with a nod.

He thought Hua Cheng would laugh, but instead he just sat there, staring at him with his eye dazed and wild. His nice long penis twitched, as if it wanted to peek out its head and play again.

“Sorry,” Xie Lian said awkwardly, lowering his hand, watching Hua Cheng’s expression. “Was that inappropriate?”

“Did gege like it?” Hua Cheng asked, his voice strangely rasping.

“En.” Xie Lian whispered.

“This one did too.” Hua Cheng replied, sounding dazed. “Gege… Are you sure this is okay? Are you really sure this one gets to…”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered, pressing closer. Hua Cheng was so strong, he could lay against him like a divan, and Hua Cheng held his weight up easily. Their naked chests pressed together, and the messes on their stomachs mingled. There was certainly going to be some cleanup after this. Xie Lian didn’t mind cleaning, and he was certain his San Lang would help.

“This one is sure.” He said, relaxing his weight onto his beloved and peppering soft kisses to Hua Cheng’s jawline. “So don’t ever leave him again, okay?”

Hua Cheng wrapped his free arm around Xie Lian’s waist, and held him close. He tilted his head until his nose was pressed into Xie Lian’s hair. Xie Lian curled up against his chest in approval, the shivers running through his body calming as they curled around each other.

“Never again.” Hua Cheng whispered into the crown of his head. “My beloved, my god, I’ll never lose you again.”

They lie together on the altar for a long time, breathing each other's air. Hua Cheng doesn’t need to breathe, but Xie Lian likes it when he does. He likes the feel of his chest rising and falling under his hand— a soothing pattern that Hua Cheng always syncs with Xie Lian’s own breath.

His temple smells of sweat and sex over the distant scent of incense, now long ago burned out. Xie Lian chuckles at the thought that their love making so often outlasts his second ascension. Hua Cheng hums in answer to his laugh, and Xie Lian nuzzles against his hair lovingly.

“How is my beloved feeling?” He asks rather than sharing that thought, stroking his hand up and down Hua Cheng’s long body.

“Good, gege.” Hua Cheng answers at once, head turned to watch Xie Lian as always, rather than enjoying the spectacular view of the colorful temple. “And my beloved?”

Xie Lian smiles, blinking up at the ceiling with heavy eyes. Beneath him, the altar is soft. So many things that used to be hard are gentle now.

“Mm,” he turns his head to meet Hua Cheng’s gaze, and smiles at him brightly. “This one feels wonderful.”

For a moment the whole world is just them. Holding each other's bodies, meeting each other’s eyes, safe and together. Then Hua Cheng splits into a wicked smile.

“Gege was very wise with what he said before.”

Xie Lian feels a tendril of caution slide through him. That voice is a little too sincere…

“What, ah… What exactly is San Lang referring to?”

“That we should do this in many, many temples.'' Hua Cheng answers at once, bobbing his head in a thoughtful nod. “By my last count, gege has 10,000 temples, so if we start soon—”

“San Lang!” Xie Lian cries, pressing his hand over Hua Cheng’s vicious grin. His face is flaming hot, and he knows his whole body will be pink with embarrassment. It’s confirmed to him by how Hua Cheng’s eye dances down him, sparkling with amusement.

He could be offended, he could be scolding, he could cover up and pretend to pout until Hua Cheng wheedled him into smiling again. He could shoot him down with an awkward blush and flailing hands, insisting that he’d been carried away and didn’t really know what he was saying! Instead he bends and presses a kiss to the hand he holds over his beloved’s mouth and says:

“ We have 10,000 temples. They aren’t just mine.”

Hua Cheng laughs in delight at the implicit acceptance. He rolls over to hover above Xie Lian, and drops kiss after kiss onto his pink cheeks, and his bitten lips, and the flushed tip of his nose. Xie Lian sprawls on an altar, laughing beneath his beloved, and lets himself feel whole.