Work Text:
Nie Huaisang bites back a whimper as Jiang Cheng eases the torn fabric of his trousers away from a sluggishly bleeding gash across his thigh. Jiang Cheng’s hands still. Threads catch in the cut and abrasions, stuck to bits of gravel and dirt with the congealing blood.
“Get on with it,” Huaisang orders, his voice thin and rasping. He grips the edge of the chair that Jiang Cheng had dragged into the bathroom, closes his eyes and grits his teeth in anticipation of the pain he knows will come, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t move. “Do it, A-Cheng!”
Instead of pain, he hears the distinct click of a photo being taken. He opens his eyes and sees Jiang Cheng fussing with his phone.
“What are you—“
“Hush,” Jiang Cheng interrupts as his phone vibrates. “Hey. Yeah. No, just that, and some serious road rash.” His voice is rough as he talks with the person on the other end of the line. His eyes flick to Huaisang then away. “Pale but otherwise fine.”
“A-Cheng, I—“
“Shhh!” Jiang Cheng stands and opens a drawer, closes it, then tries the medicine cabinet, but he does not seem to find what he needs. “No, just a sec. Mmm hmm. Okay. Just a bit of broken fence? Fuck, okay. Okay, see you in fifteen.” Jiang Cheng ends the call and stuffs his phone in his pocket. “I’ll be right back.” He leaves Huaisang shivering in the ground floor guest bathroom of Jiang Manor.
As soon as Jiang Cheng is gone, Huaisang sags against the back of the chair and tears flow freely. He fucked up, so bad, and okay, fine, he could accept that. But Jiang Cheng won’t even speak to him, won’t shout at him like he deserves. He knew better, had it drilled into him endlessly by da-ge, by his father, by Lan Qiren that summer — do not run off alone on a night hunt, not for any reason. And what had Huaisang done, on his very first night hunt after his summer at the Lan Academy?
Yeah. Run off alone.
Did it matter that one of the stupid Jin babies that had come along had run off first? Huaisang should have let that Zixun get his soul torn apart by that stupid fucking demon. Then he should have waited for help instead of slinking off to his car to get to Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng, who’d sat out this night hunt because he was recovering from a nasty case of strep throat. Huaisang thought he was the person to see.
Stupid, Huaisang, stupid, stupid stu—
“Okay, I’m just gonna—hey! What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng drops the bundle he’s carrying and kneels by Huaisang’s side. His eyes are still fever-bright, and Huaisang’s guilt doubles. “What’s wrong, A-Sang? Are you hurt somewhere else?” He wipes away some of the tears with his thumb.
Huaisang shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“‘S okay,” Jiang Cheng says. He squeezes Huaisang’s shoulder. “Look, let’s just get you cleaned up a bit, and then I’m gonna take you in to the Yiling Clinic. Wen Qing’s already there, patching up a few Jin brats.”
“Fuck,” Huaisang curses, “Zixun? Is he okay?”
“Dunno,” Jiang Cheng says. “I was more concerned with you.” He stands and retrieves the bundle of things he brought. “Okay, so, you’re not gonna like this, but I’m gonna have to cut away the fabric from the wound, then clean it up a bit and wrap it in gauze before we go.”
Huaisang sucks in a breath. “Really? It can’t wait?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “I brought you some clean sweatpants, though. We just need to get you cleaned up.” He winces as he moves and presses a hand to his temple.
“A-Cheng!”
Jiang Cheng waves a hand. “It’s fine. Ibuprofen hasn’t kicked in yet.”
“I shouldn’t have come here!” Huaisang wails. “I’m so sorry, I’m so stupid, I—“
“Shh, it’s okay.” Jiang Cheng rests a hand on Huaisang’s shoulder. “Let’s just get this over with, okay?”
Huaisang nods miserably. Jiang Cheng hands him a rolled up washcloth.
“This is gonna suck,” Jiang Cheng says, “but I’ll go as quickly as I can. You can bite down on that, scream if you need to.”
Huaisang feels the blood drain from his face, and his lips go tingly. Jiang Cheng’s brows knit in a frown.
“I’ll be fast.” He picks up a pair of scissors. “Sorry about your jeans,” he murmurs as he plucks at the hem around Huaisang’s ankle. He cuts along the outside seam, up Huaisang’s leg, with brisk efficiency, all the way to the waistband.
Huaisang can’t decide if he’d rather die from embarrassment or blood poisoning. Probably embarrassment would be quicker.
Jiang Cheng sets the scissors on the vanity and gingerly grips the fabric closer to the wound. “Okay, on three.”
Huaisang nods and jams the washcloth into his mouth.
“One, two, three—“ Jiang Cheng rips the fabric away, and Huaisang bites down and screams. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jiang Cheng soothes. He rubs Huaisang’s knee with one hand and his side with his other until Huaisang pulls himself back together. “Good job, Sang-sang, you’re doing great. Just one more ouchy bit, okay?”
Huaisang nods, unable to say anything without sobbing.
“Okay.” Jiang Cheng stands and holds out a hand to Huaisang. “Okay, let’s get these torn jeans off and then I’ll help you hop over to the shower so I can rinse off your leg.”
Under the haze of pain, Huaisang has just enough sense to realize Jiang Cheng is about to see him in his underwear for the first time since—yep, he’s going to just straight up die from shame.
Well, at least da-ge won’t have to kill him.
“Come on,” Jiang Cheng is saying, and Huaisang’s attention snaps back to him. He reaches up obediently and puts an arm around Jiang Cheng’s neck. Thankfully, the ruined trousers slide off without much trouble. “Okay, okay. Good.” Jiang Cheng tosses them aside and shifts to get an arm around Huaisang’s waist. “Almost done.” He helps Huaisang hop over to the shower and stick his injured leg in. “Okay. Just, just a sec.”
Jiang Cheng looks furtively over his shoulder, even though they are alone in the manor, his parents having taken a trip to visit Mrs. Yu’s family, Yanli undoubtedly at her own apartment, and Wei Ying with Wangji finishing the night hunt. He looks back at Huaisang.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” he says, but before Huaisang can ask for clarification, Jiang Cheng touches Huaisang’s leg, just above the wounds, and a warm, sparking sensation spreads out along Huaisang’s leg, leaving him numb, the pain blessedly subsiding.
“What—“
“I know we’re not supposed to exchange energy like that, not yet, but I couldn’t, I’m sorry. I should have thought to do it before I tore that fabric away.”
Huaisang gapes at him. “How do you even know how to do that?”
Jiang Cheng blushes and refuses to meet Huaisang’s eyes. “Wei Ying showed me. He’s got this book, and this one time, he made Mother angry, and…” Jiang Cheng goes still. “Look, I’ll tell you another time, okay?”
Huaisang nods, and Jiang Cheng relaxes.
“Okay. It won’t last long, so we need to get you cleaned up and bandaged. Come on.”
With the worst of the pain gone, Huaisang is able to brace himself against the shower door while Jiang Cheng gently sprays water over his leg, cleaning away the worst of the grit and gravel from his skin. The long cut starts to bleed again, so Jiang Cheng pats Huaisang’s skin dry and wraps gauze around it and eases Huaisang into his old sweatpants. The waistband is too big, but it’ll do. Huaisang limps to his car and drops into the passenger seat while Jiang Cheng drives them across town to the Yiling Clinic.
Wen Qing gives them both A Look when she peels away the gauze to examine Huaisang’s injuries and he merely winces, but then Mingjue shoulders his way into the examination room. He cuffs Jiang Cheng on the shoulder in what is probably a friendly gesture before planting himself beside Huaisang.
“Are you going to shout?” Wen Qing asks before either Huaisang or Mingjue can speak.
“Probably,” Mingjue says, and Huaisang wilts, but Mingjue continues, “but not right now.”
Wen Qing stares them both down, and when Mingjue remains calm(ish), she nods at him. He takes Huaisang’s hand. “I’m going to have to stitch up the big gash.” She rummages in her drawers and finds a mask for Jiang Cheng. “You’re probably not contagious, but better safe than sorry.” She doesn’t wait to see if he puts it on before turning to get gloves and set up her work.
Jiang Cheng puts the mask on and moves to Huaisang’s other side to hold his hand.
Huaisang knows he was reckless, and he knows he deserves the lecture he’ll get. He knows the stitches are going to hurt like hell, but he also knows that he is damn lucky to have the two men beside him on this disastrous night, and he hopes they’ll be at his side forever.