Work Text:
Xue Yang woke to the sound of trickling water across the unlit room of the coffin home.
It was dark, too dark to make out clear shapes from more than a couple of feet away, and the features of the room were made even more indiscernible by the blur of sleep that lingered in his eyes. Still half-asleep, he reached up to gently massage the drowsiness out through his eyelids. Upon opening them again and propping himself up on the bed he could observe Xiao Xingchen, so easy to pick out dressed in brilliant white, a short distance away. Xue Yang could tell he was hunched over, kneeling, with the hem of his robes fanned out behind him on the dusty floor.
Xue Yang squinted, attempting to peer more sharply through the darkness of the room to no avail. Whatever Xiao Xingchen was doing, he had to get out of bed to see it. With a huff, he shifted his weight and lowered his feet to the floor. The sounds stopped abruptly when the bed creaked.
“Stay there,” Xiao Xingchen whispered, loud enough for him to hear, but his voice was strained. He spoke quietly as if there was someone else he might disturb if he spoke too loud. But there was a desperate plea there, too. “Please go back to sleep. I’m fine.”
Curiosity thoroughly piqued and with absolutely no intention of listening to Xiao Xingchen’s request, Xue Yang pushed himself up off the bed and stretched; following orders had never been his strong suit, and he didn’t plan on changing that tonight. He yawned; though he was still feeling the effects of sleep, his interest in whatever Xiao Xingchen was doing so discreetly in the middle of the night had roused him relatively quickly. Xue Yang swiftly closed the distance between the bed and the huddled mass of robes.
Xiao Xingchen folded further into himself on the ground, as if hoping that by curling in close enough he would disappear into thin air. Xue Yang was curious, first and foremost, but somewhere in his gut, he was enticed by the thought of finding his companion in such a state. He grinned in the dark as he knelt down next to the hunched figure and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder before glancing down to observe what Xiao Xingchen had been up to.
A small basin was filled nearly to the top with water; it was hard to tell in the low light, but it seemed too dark to be fresh. Dirt? Xue Yang wondered to himself before catching the scent of blood in the air. His eyes bolted up to Xiao Xingchen’s face, suddenly incredibly alert.
His face was bare; he’d removed his bandage. Blood streaked across his cheeks where he’d tried to wipe it away but only succeeded in smearing it around on his skin. It was almost gruesome. Xue Yang cast his gaze back down to Xiao Xingchen’s shaking hands, which held the strip of cloth. It was stained.
“I’m sorry,” Xiao Xingchen started, his voice wavering, “I didn’t want you to wake up. I didn’t want you to see this,” He paused, trying to collect himself, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
After realizing the blood wasn’t the result of anything that would pose a threat, Xue Yang allowed himself to relax. More than relax; he soon settled himself down next to Xiao Xingchen on the floor. Xue Yang almost readjusted his position when he found himself so close that their thighs touched slightly, but ultimately remained where he was.
“Daozhang,” he murmured almost tenderly as Xiao Xingchen continued to shake lightly, “Why wouldn’t you want me to see you? You can’t do this on your own; you’ll never find all the blood to wash off.” Realizing he could hardly see in the darkness even with a working pair of eyes, he patted Xiao Xingchen’s shoulder again as if to say I’ll be back soon before rising to his feet, slinking quietly over to the table and lighting a candle. He was back by Xiao Xingchen’s side in moments.
Bathed in the soft candlelight, Xiao Xingchen’s face looked even more horrific than it had in the cover of the dark. There were more patches of skin with blood than without. He continued to weep blood from his sunken eyelids, but it had clearly slowed significantly since the bleeding started. With his thumb, Xue Yang brushed away a droplet of blood from Xiao Xingchen’s chin that threatened to fall onto his pristine white robes. Xue Yang discreetly lapped the blood from his finger, appreciating the taste of iron on his tongue. A subtle smile curled on his face.
Glancing down at Xiao Xingchen’s shaking hands, he examined the stained bandage he held between his fingers. It was soaked through with blood, as well as the water he’d attempted to wash it in; the only thing Xiao Xingchen had succeeded in doing by scrubbing it in the basin was further spreading and setting the blood into the cloth.
Xue Yang sighed. “You can’t wash blood out with just water. You’re going to need a new bandage because this one is ruined.” He paused when Xiao Xingchen’s brow twitched. “I’ll find you a new one,” he said in response to the distressed expression, “But first we need to stop the bleeding and clean you up, or it’ll be useless to replace it.” Picking up a cloth someone had left on the rim of the basin, he dipped the corner into the red-tinted water and brought it to Xiao Xingchen’s cheek.
Working gently but efficiently, Xue Yang began wiping the smeared blood from Xiao Xingchen’s skin. From a young age he’d been skilled in cleaning himself up after scuffles in the street; his reputation as a delinquent had earned admiration from some but invoked the ire of others. He learned to harden himself, tending to his own injuries from the time he was a child. But this was the first time he found himself wiping blood from a face other than his own.
Xiao Xingchen flinched slightly when the damp cloth made contact with his face, but quickly found himself soothed. The tension in his face relaxed while Xue Yang worked the edge of the cloth in small circles on Xiao Xingchen’s soft skin. When it lost its efficacy at removing the dried blood, Xue Yang returned it to the basin to rinse it out before returning to his work.
Xiao Xingchen took notice of just how slowly his companion was moving, but he didn’t address it; he was enjoying the feeling of being tended to. He hadn’t experienced it in a long time. Every placement of a palm to his cheek or the gentle maneuvering of his face by the fingers on his chin made the corners of his lips quirk up. Despite his lack of vision, it was as though he could picture the soft glow of the candle he knew had been lit on his companion’s features, though he had no clue what the man looked like. It didn’t matter.
What mattered to Xiao Xingchen were the stranger’s calming breaths, so close to his face as he painstakingly massaged every spot of blood from his skin.
“What happened?” Xue Yang jarred Xiao Xingchen from his thoughts, albeit softly.
“I had a dream,” Xiao Xingchen responded. He’d been lulled into a haze by his companion’s gentle touch. “I don’t remember what happened, but when I woke I was bleeding. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Xue Yang tipped Xiao Xingchen’s chin up, wiping at a trail of dried blood that ran nearly to the base of his neck. “You don’t need to apologize,” Xue Yang purred soothingly, “You know I’ll help you if you need me.” His eyes glanced over the vein he knew ran thick with blood and, fighting his instincts to sink his teeth into it, tilted Xiao Xingchen’s chin back down. He looked at the sunken eyelids as if Xiao Xingchen had eyes to stare back with. His face was clean now, but his eyelashes were caked with dried blood.
Dipping the cloth into the basin again, Xue Yang paused. “I’m going to clean your eyelids now,” he warned, “Don’t move.”
Xiao Xingchen pursed his lips, as if uncomfortable with the thought. Xue Yang uncharacteristically waited for a response before moving forward. “Okay,” Xiao Xingchen began, “But please be careful.” He looked almost ashamed, exposed. He knew he must have looked horrific covered in his own blood, but he hadn’t considered that even cleaned up, his face must be unnerving to see without the bandage over his sunken lids. His companion didn’t seem to mind, but that didn’t make him care any less. Vanity may not have been a concern for Xiao Xingchen, but he didn’t want anyone else to feel uncomfortable.
Thankfully, it took a lot more than a lack of eyes to make Xue Yang uncomfortable. Xue Yang wasn’t sure if it was possible for him to feel unnerved. At any rate, the only pressing thought he had regarding Xiao Xingchen’s unusual facial feature was the knowledge of how he’d become like that, rather than the appearance of the result. He smiled to himself at the hilarity of the situation, that the man whose blindness he’d had a direct hand in causing was allowing him to tend to his injury, but his touch remained gentle.
Pressing the cloth lightly to an eyelid, Xue Yang saw Xiao Xingchen flinch immediately. He tried again, achieving the same result. Xiao Xingchen looked distraught, “I’m sorry,” he blurted when the cloth was pressed even more gently to his lid a third time, “I’m sorry, it hurts, I don’t think this is going to work.”
Biting back his anger, so quick to flare up, Xue Yang took a breath. “Hold on,” he spoke as softly as he could manage, trying to calm himself. For some reason, he didn’t want to ruin this. He blamed it on the dark of the night, on it being too late in the evening, and being too tired to fight and ruin this charade of a home unless it was absolutely necessary. And it was not necessary.
Xue Yang placed the cloth back down on the rim of the basin and instead dipped his fingers into the water. “Stay still.” He raised his fingers to Xiao Xingchen’s other eyelid, the one he hadn’t irritated yet, and softly pinched the lashes between his fingers. He didn’t flinch this time.
It took longer like this, Xue Yang having to return his fingers to the water for every small section of lashes, but he saw Xiao Xingchen relax under his efforts again. His eyelashes fluttered slightly when he touched them; it looked odd without the rise of an eye under them. Xue Yang wondered briefly what he would see past those lids if he pried them open, but he resisted the urge.
When Xue Yang finished cleaning the lashes on one side, he moved to the other. Xiao Xingchen didn’t move; his breath was calm and even. Xue Yang felt a pang of something he couldn’t place as he observed Xiao Xingchen, so relaxed, so much calmer now than he’d been when Xue Yang first caught him red-handed with his own blood a short while ago.
Even without his bandage, once his face was cleaned up, he looked absolutely pristine.
Xue Yang wiped the very last of the blood from the corners of Xiao Xingchen’s closed lids. “All done,” Xue Yang informed him softly, “I’ll go find you another bandage.”
Xiao Xingchen heard him rifling through the coffin home, content enough to sit and wait patiently for him to return. After a minute, he was back again with the replacement bandage he’d gone to find.
“Do you want me to tie it for you?” Xue Yang asked.
“Yes, please,” Xiao Xingchen replied, content in allowing himself to be spoiled after the stressful events of the evening.
“So needy, daozhang,” Xue Yang cooed at him teasingly while he placed the bandage over Xiao Xingchen’s eyes and tied it off securely but comfortably, “Are you going to need help getting back to bed as well?”
“I might,” Xiao Xingchen smiled warmly as he responded.
Xue Yang found himself smiling back, a genuine smile. He didn’t repress it; after all, it wasn’t like anyone could see it, so it wasn’t a weakness that could come back to bite him. He placed his hand under Xiao Xingchen’s arm and helped him to his feet. Stopping briefly at the table to blow out the candle on the way, Xue Yang helped Xiao Xingchen back into the bed that they’d been sharing under the guise of comfort. Xiao Xingchen was sure there was more to it than that, assuming that the stranger probably had some unspoken motives, but if he acknowledged it he would run the risk of ruining an arrangement that made him feel safe and cared for. So he didn’t.
Xiao Xingchen sat down on the edge of the bed before shuffling into it, pulling the blanket over himself. He waited for a sign that his companion had climbed into bed with him, but it didn’t come. “Hello?” He spoke into the dark.
“I’m here, daozhang,” Xue Yang spoke from one of the chairs at the table. “Get some rest, I’ll be here.” Xiao Xingchen could hear him fiddling with something on the table; the sound was comforting. He settled in, trusting his companion. His friend. He was asleep in minutes.
Xue Yang sat at the table, facing the bed where Xiao Xingchen slept. With the candle out, the room was cast into darkness once again, but those white robes stood out against the darkness like a flame. The knife Xue Yang held in his hand tapped against the wooden table arrhythmically, very much unlike the measured rise and fall of Xiao Xingchen’s chest as he breathed. Xue Yang wondered what it would be like to plunge his knife into that chest and watch the robes stain.
But he could never. Every time he felt the pressing, animalistic desire to take out his violence on Xiao Xingchen like a starving beast, something held him back. He hated it. He’d never experienced anything like it.
Watching Xiao Xingchen sleep, Xue Yang allowed himself to cycle through his urges in his mind, but never once considered acting on them. He briefly wondered if he was ill. He couldn’t discern any other reason why he couldn’t simply kill his sworn enemy in cold blood right there in the coffin home. He placed the knife back down on the table and stared.
The rise and fall of Xiao Xingchen’s chest acted as a metronome to calm Xue Yang’s racing mind. He allowed his own chest to rise and fall in time. Breathing out, he pushed his chair away from the table and padded gently over to the bed. Slowly, so as to not wake Xiao Xingchen, he sat down and crawled under the blanket.
Xiao Xingchen didn’t stir. But Xue Yang felt the warmth of the body next to him and begrudgingly shifted closer, telling himself that it was his survival instinct, the instinct that had kept him alive since he was a child on the streets, kicking in to protect him from the chilly nighttime air. That’s all he would allow himself to believe. He continued to watch Xiao Xingchen’s chest rise and fall until it lulled him to slumber.