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Layers in his memory had started lifting as time went on, and there were moments of his past that now and then emerged with unusual clarity.
In one of those, so back in time it felt like in the meantime ages had come and go, Mo Ran had fallen ill and Chu Wanning had taken care of him like he always did - quietly, without attracting attention or demanding gratitude -, sitting beside him on the bed. That had been enough to imprint in Mo Ran's mind hazy images of a beautiful immortal dressed in white waiting for his fever to break, in the middle of the night.
With dawn had come the relief from a nasty cold, the phantom of a hand on his forehead and a haitang petal sitting on his pillow, glowing faintly of a warmth that reverberated into him before turning into rosy dust.
Now, the late morning sun filtered through the branches of the trees surrounding their meagre, poorly furnished hut and brightened the porion of the room where the bed lay, suggesting it was almost midday. Taxian-jun's eyes cracked open tiredly, body stretching lazily under the covers as he turned toward the other side of the bed, the sight of sheets crumpled but empty greeting him. Annoyed, he tried to sit up, only for a light wave of dizziness to wash over him.
He cursed. Apparently, Mo Ran had fallen ill the day before - his mind provided glimpses of some powder or strange drug reproducing the effects of a cold. The last remnants of it reverberated in his sore throat and aching head, made him wonder what had happened to reduce a body like theirs in such a state. Taxian-jun was left to deal with the aftermath, as if that idiot had calculated the days and chosen to get sick right before their switching, what a fucking bother.
He almost called out for the other occupant of that little home - he could hear Wanning moving around somewhere near -, but then he caught something with the corner of his eye that distracted him. He reached out toward the pillow set close to his own, curious, only to involuntarily retract his hand at the sound of approaching steps. He looked up, unconsciously relaxing at the familiar sight that welcomed him.
"You're awake."
"Yes. And I feel like crap. That moron got sick?"
Chu Wanning frowned at the title, but chose not to mention it, nodding shortly without explaining further. He set a steaming bowl over the low table, before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning in. Cool fingertips brushed over his forehead as he tried to keep a reasonable distance and gauge his conditions.
But Taxian-jun, form his part, was anything but reasonable.
With a smirk, he grasped Chu Wanning's arm and pulled him in, making him lose balance. He fell forward with a gasp, bracing himself with his hands at the side of Taxian-jun's face in order to not fall entirely on him.
"That's better. You were too far."
"I was checking your temperature" Chu Wanning supplied, trying not to let his frustration show. Not that it mattered anymore - both him and Mo Ran could easily see beyond his façade, the years spent together rendering the task much easier and sweeter than before.
"The Venerable One can suggest other ways" Taxian-jun retorted, enjoying the outraged blush blossoming on his Shizun's cheeks, sensing each minute squirming of his body, admiring the way he purposefully avoided his eyes and thinned his lips, smoothing his face in feigned calmness.
"You can't eat like this. Sit up" he ordered, escaping his hold with firm yet gentle tugs, moving away. Of course he could because Taxian-jun allowed it - if not, they would have stayed like that. Better, he would already have him pinned against the sheets, as he tried to coax out that helpless expression again and again with the tip of his tongue licking his lips, with ravenous fingers and palms mapping his body, pressing on each of the spots that made him tick, as he rubbed his cock over his entrance with the slow, torturous twist of his hips, dragging it for hours until neither of them would be able to leave the bed anymo-
A bowl appeared before him, the nostalgic smell filling his nostrils breaching through his fantasies. Something in him trembled, like the unfolding petals of another memory tickling his mind, gentling its way to his heart and squeezing until his chest ached. He took the bowl without thinking, eyes fixed on its content, and it felt like he could already taste the wontons on his tongue - the flavour of the things he had misunderstood in the past, the way he had loved unconditionally and had been loved just as much in return.
Still was, he pointed out, with the startlingly self-confidence arising from love, not arrogance.
"Your fever went down" Chu Wanning's voice carried through the mante of numbness that had spread over him, relief tinging his tone. Then a hand touched Taxian-jun's forehead lightly, gliding distractedly over his temple to brush away a lock of hair, and his frown eased as the result of his examination sank in.
Without thinking, and before Chu Wanning culd withdraw it, Taxian-jun caught him swiftly once more, mirth easing in his gaze and a more contemplative, fierce look taking its place. His fingers curled decisively around Chu Wanning's, thumb rubbing at the little bumps and lines of his palm, his other hand easily balancing the bowl on a bent knee. The caresses he bestowed him were gentle and slow, far from the rough treatment he usually reserved to his Shizun - maybe, Taxian-jun told himself, Mo Ran had somehow rubbed it off on him by muscle memory or whatever, suggesting him how to effectively render his beloved docile before taming him with his own personal method. Not that he needed any kind of teaching or advise, especially from Mo Ran, he was perfectly capable on his own.
Chu Wanning didn't flinch away and Taxian-jun's mood lifted again. He brought that hand to his mouth, making a show out of it - eyes looking predatorily from below his eyelashes and lips stretching over white teeth, knowingly, brushing kisses over his fingertips, his palm, the delicate curve of his wrist. A small smile blinked on his face at each shudder those motions elicited.
"Was Wanning worried about this Venerable One? Isn't this just a cold? It can't kill me."
He could already see the tell-tale signs of his Shizun's flustered demeanour - rosy cheeks, eyes fixed on the hand now spread over Taxian-jun's heated cheek as if it was a problem he needed to solve, the little trembling of his fingertips tickling the skin of his face.
For a moment, Taxian-jun was reminded of how Chu Wanning used to react, back when desire had kept him awake at night, feet dragging him away from the Empress' chambers and into the unwilling arms of his Shizun. Back when that hunger had been the only fuel that bewitched him near the esteemed Beidou Immortal - the only one he had been aware of. He wondered, bitterly, if Chu Wanning still thought of subtracting himself from his touch, if those memories, from time to time, still hunted his dreams and reminded him of the blood marring the hands of the man he chose as his.
A flash, of Chu Wanning's eyes sparkling with fury and indignation, a clenched hand forced against Taxian-jun's cheek, and his refusal did nothing but ignite in him the same lust that seemed like an entity on his own, consuming Taxian-jun so completely he could only act on it.
But even if that was the case, years had taught him otherwise, had showed him the charming side of this kind of closeness. Now, there was only acceptance in the way Chu Wanning's palm curved shily around his cheek when Taxian-jun pressed it there, and any trace of cruelty evaporated with it.
"Besides, what should Wanning worry about? You put a bit of your healing magic in the petal over your pillow, right? You take such good care of this Venerable One."
His cheekiness had Chu Wanning lower his face in self-consciousness and throw him an exasperated gaze, but instead of hissing and parting from him after overreacting, he bent down and pressed his lips onto Taxian-jun's, just for the blink of an eye.
His mouth was soft and familiar, a little stiff on his, but it was all it took to shake Taxian-jun in surprise. His hold slackened, bowl almost tipping over, and Chu Wanning seized the chance to slip away, a bright blush adorning his face. Jerking back and trying to make it look like what he did was the most natural thing in the world, Chu Wanning advised him to eat the wontons he prepared before they got cold, turning on his heels and slipping out of the room with calculated steps.
Taxian-jun's heart kept pounding loudly through the entire meal, the little pink pile of dust at his side completely forgotten, and he wondered when it was, exactly, that Chu Wanning learned to be so crafty in shutting his mouth like that.