Work Text:
Jiang Cheng drops his bag and kicks it to the side. His head aches, pain flashing behind his eyes like little fireworks. Compared to the summer twilight and fading sun outside, his rooms at Cloud Recesses are cool and dark, well appointed, but the only thing he cares about is the bed. Perhaps it’s due to his higher status as sect leader, or perhaps it’s Lan Xichen’s influence, but whatever it is, Jiang Cheng’s grateful that the visitor’s quarters he’s been offered for the discussion conference at Gusu are more comfortable that those he was given as a student, nearly twenty years ago.
And he is so very grateful that Huaisang insisted they come two days early so he could spend some time with Mingjue. Jiang Cheng can defer responsibilities for at least the next twelve hours, and he plans to spend most of those hours asleep. He sheds his robes and hangs them over the rack by the bed and sits at the small dressing table. The sooner he can get his hair ornaments out, the sooner he can lie down. But his fingers refuse to cooperate, and tears come to his eyes as the elaborate silver hairpiece, a gift from Jin Ling, pokes his scalp.
“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, taking a breath before he gives in to the urge to simply cut the offending ornament from his hair.
“A-Cheng? Are you...oh, darling, let me.”
Jiang Cheng sighs in relief as Huaisang stands behind him and gently untangles the ornament from his hair. Huaisang combs out the braids he put in Jiang Cheng’s hair that morning, then rubs his shoulders and the back of his neck.
“Better?” Huaisang asks as he rests his chin on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.
“Mmm, much.” Jiang Cheng tilts his head to the side so Huaisang can kiss his neck.
“Another headache?”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng says.
“They’re coming more frequently,” Huaisang says. He slides around to kneel at Jiang Cheng’s side and takes Jiang Cheng’s chin in hand.
“I’m just tired,” Jiang Cheng says, regretting the flash of worry he sees in Huaisang’s eyes. “I promise.”
Huaisang looks like he wants to say something, but he simply strokes Jiang Cheng’s cheek. “Why don’t you get into bed, and I’ll order up some tea. Xichen-ge has some blends that are great for headaches. He used to send them to da-ge all the time.”
“No, don’t bother anyone. It’s nearly nine.”
“A-Cheng, we’re not students any more. You’re a respected sect leader, I’m chief cultivator. We’re owed a little extra attention.” He takes Jiang Cheng’s hand and leads him to bed. “Besides, I have plans for us tomorrow, and I will be most displeased if a headache ruins them.”
Jiang Cheng lies down and lets Huaisang arrange a pillow behind his head. “Plans? I thought you wanted to spend time with your brother.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Huaisang’s face is the picture of innocence, and Jiang Cheng groans.
“No, you did not.”
“Silly me.” Huaisang leans down and places a soft kiss on Jiang Cheng’s lips. “Xichen-ge is helping Wangji with something in the libraries tomorrow afternoon, and da-ge is helping Wei Wuxian train the disciples.”
“And you’ve scheduled something for us?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Huaisang gives Jiang Cheng another quick kiss before rising. “I’ve ordered a picnic lunch and given word that we’ll be spending the afternoon by the river.” He pours a cup of water from a pitcher left on the low table in the center of the room and brings it to Jiang Cheng. “You know that place?” he asks as he sits on the edge of the bed.
Jiang Cheng catches Huaisang’s hand and smiles at him. “I remember.” He sits up enough to drink the water Huaisang brought him, then settles back against the pillow. “And you’re sure your brother won’t interrupt us again?”
“Well, you never can tell with da-ge, but I think he’ll be sufficiently occupied otherwise.”
“I suppose that’s alright, then.” He squeezes Huaisang’s hand. “If you think tea will help…”
“I do.”
“Alright, but hurry back. I can think of something else that will help relieve my headache.”
Huaisang grins. “I thought you might.” He kisses Jiang Cheng.”We’ll try the tea first and then see how you feel.” He smooths Jiang Cheng’s hair from his forehead. “And,” he continues, pitching his voice low and sultry, “we will have a conversation about taking better care of yourself. Understand?”
Jiang Cheng swallows. “Yes, A-Sang.”
“Good boy.”
“I love you.”
Huaisang pats Jiang Cheng’s chest. “I know you do.”