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The bar was almost empty by the time Chu Wanning noticed that something wasn't right with the man sitting next to him. He'd been there for some time, though Chu Wanning could only faintly recall at what point the usually empty barstool finally filled up. People rarely chose to sit next to him for good reason, and so he had paid only the briefest of attention to the other presence before returning to his own drink. It was only when a hand halted his glass in its journey up to his lips that he had turned on the man and noticed the problem.
It wasn't even an acceptable level of weird—the kind that seemed fine at first but got just a bit off-kilter the longer you looked at it.
The man sitting next to Chu Wanning had horns.
-and fangs... and claws which engulfed the half-filled glass that looks practically miniature in his very large hands. His eyes were so black they bordered on violet, no white sclera to be found to lessen the effect. His skin was a near golden bronze, which normal enough; though the glowing red tattoos curling around his very exposed arms and chest were less so. A tail, an actual real tail, curled possessively around Chu Wanning's ankle as it bounced against the footrest of the barstool.
He twirled Chu Wanning's glass around, wine sloshing dangerously close to the edge. When he raised it to his lips, took a purposeful drink long and slow, the look in his eyes said it wasn't the drink he was savoring. The tongue which peeked from rosy lips, licking clean the drops of red wine resting along his top lip, was forked.
Chu Wanning swallowed around nothing, almost startling at the harsh clink of the glass against the wood of the bar. He tore his eyes away from the handsome face, though his treacherous eyes kept flicking over even as his heart began to thump wildly in his chest.
The man, if you could even call him that, smiled wide. His dimples made him look like a child who'd just won something and was giddy to show it off; the fangs sharp enough to rip out Chu Wanning's throat made him look like a wolf who'd just found his next meal.
"So, you're the one who summoned me?" His voice was deep and rich. It made Chu Wanning think of a dessert that you could only handle a few bites of before it became overbearing. It matched with the regal nature of his garb, or what little of it, he wore: long golden chains looping around his neck, leading down to frame his chest and the contour of his abs.
The man leaned, or rather loomed, over Chu Wanning; a strand of his dark hair, mostly pulled up with elaborate braids into an extravagant crown reminiscent of something from a xianxia drama, tickled against his cheek. "Perhaps this venerable one won't mind being married to you."
Chu Wanning stared. Closed his eyes. Opened them again. Found the man still sitting on the barstool next to him.
He glanced at his now empty glass sitting inches away from him and then pushed up from his seat. He was steadier than he expected, though the tail still curled around his ankle nearly tripped him up.
Digging around in his pocket produced his old, battered phone. It wasn't dead yet, though it was a near thing. It should be just enough to call Xue Zhengyong, at least.
As he hit call, he heard a faint screech as the barstool behind him was pushed across the ground. Suddenly, a warm presence pressed against his back. Arms looped around his waist like a lover's embrace. Warm breath tickled against his ear. He could feel delicate metal chains press against the back of his neck. "Are you just going to ignore me?"
Xue Zhengyong picked up on the last ring.
"Chu Wanning?" He sounded like he'd just woken up.
The faint edges of regret beat through the haze of Chu Wanning's intoxication. It wasn't enough to stop him from blurting out, "Can you pick me up?"
Xue Zhengyong's groggy voice mumbled out a faint yes. Chu Wanning could hear the shuffling as Xue Zhengyong rose from the bed, Mrs. Wang's confused question and the soft reply Xue Zhengyong gave in return. "What's going on, Chu Wanning?"
"Wanning..." The demon curling against his back purred.
"I think someone drugged me."
The truth of it was, Chu Wanning wasn't unfamiliar with this set-up.
He'd heard the stories, though he'd never go so far as to admit he'd read the kind of trashy novel the trope might have appeared in. Someone gets drunk, hooks up with a random stranger, and they wake up to find themselves unfortunately married in a rushed ceremony. There's drama and eventually, the two discover that, actually, maybe they're into each other...
But those were stories.
And Chu Wanning wasn't even that drunk.
And since when did any of those stories involve... horns?
Throughout the entire awkward car ride home, Chu Wanning did his best to ignore the ma- dem- hallucination, lounging in the backseat of Xue Zhengyong's minivan. The cocky grin had lost its ground, and a childish pout had won the battle for territory over his face. Occasionally, Chu Wanning felt a clawed hand twirling idly through a strand of his hair. He would lean forward, shuffling away as discreetly as he could without making Xue Zhengyong think he was going any crazier than he already did. He hadn't mentioned seeing the very tall man curled around Chu Wanning when he'd arrived, and considering how he'd reacted in the past, it certainly wouldn't have been out of some courtesy towards Chu Wanning's private life.
Even still, Xue Zhengyong had side-eyed him the entire drive to his house (after an argument where he'd insisted that, if Chu Wanning had really been drugged shouldn't he- what about his heart- fine, fine), but politely kept the conversation scarce, too tired to deal with whatever weird things were happening over in Chu Wanning-town.
Unfortunately by the time Chu Wanning made it home and into bed, whatever drugs might have caused him to hallucinate a (admittedly, if only in the deepest part of his mind) very handsome, vaguely demonic man had not worn off.
His head hurt.
Having realized that Chu Wanning wasn't going to pay any more attention to him, the man had finally given up on his clinging to go sulk. Chu Wanning watched, curled up on his messy bed between spare bits and bobs he'd thrown on it when his work desk had run out of space, as the man stomped around his small workshop/bedroom... tidying.
"Stop doing that." He didn't particularly want to think about the logic of how a hallucination might move things, nor did he want to deal with waking up to find all of his stuff in the wrong order.
"What is this venerable one supposed to do?" The man grumbled. He picked up a file and pointedly moved it into a steadily growing pile of what Chu Wanning recognized as 'sharp objects'. A harsh clank filled the air as he placed it down with a bit too much force. "My wife isn't paying attention to me."
This again. "I'm not your wife."
The handsome face pulled from pouting to unimpressed in record time: an eyebrow arched up; a mouth pulled low. He seemed to glide through the mess, each step a purposeful stride that took little time with legs so long, to kneel against the edge of Chu Wanning's bed. It creaked under his weight. A hand came out to rest by Chu Wanning's head, allowing for the man to once more loom over him. Chu Wanning unfurled from his curled position, boosting up to meet the man, a glare already settling on his face in preparation for whatever nonsense dared leave his lips.
He was less prepared for the clawed hand curling around his chin, far too tender for things so trained for killing. In his mind, he knew he should have (could have easily) fended off such a touch. Instead, he found himself frozen in place, fighting his body's urge to lean into the warm palm.
"You are," he spoke, a sweet whisper bereft of the sharp edges Chu Wanning had expected, filled with too much... something that Chu Wanning dare not question. His thumb traced along the curve of Chu Wanning's cheekbone and a finger flicked idly at the-
Chu Wanning blinked.
At the-
He reached towards his left ear, confirming with a light tug that yes, there was an earring there. An earring where before Chu Wanning hadn't even had a piercing. It was warm to the touch, pulsing lightly like a heartbeat, steady and sure.
"What's going on?"
He glanced up, noticing that on the man's right ear hung what he was certain must have been a matching blood-red earring.
The man grinned, leaning in close enough that Chu Wanning could almost feel every purposeful word he spoke against his lips. "I've told you. Wanning has offered himself to the Emperor of the Demonic world, Taxian-jun... this Mo Weiyu..." Chu Wanning stared wide-eyed into the dark eyes of the man, barely registering the words through the pounding in his ears. "And this venerable one is more than happy to accept such a lovely sacrifice as his wife."
Whatever arguments Chu Wanning might have had for being called such a title, be it sacrifice or wife, were muffled as lips pressed against his.
Blood cooled on Chu Wanning's knuckles, aching faintly as a reminder of how out of practice he was. It had been far too long since he'd gone to the gym, bogged down by work or another flare-up that made Xue Zhengyong send that Tanlang bastard with his judgmental glare at the cans of sugary energy drinks piled up in the trash can.
On the floor, cradling his nose in his hands, sat the... the...
"You're real?"
The man, demon, not-hallucination, Mo Weiyu glared at him. The effect was less than intimidating. Even less so when a nasally, muffled, "What? Of course, I am?" came from behind his cupped hands.
Had he managed to punch the benzuo out of his speech? Good, it was getting annoying.
Adrenaline left Chu Wanning's body in one swift move. He crumpled back onto the bed, nearly avoiding bashing his head against a metal plate.
Mo Weiyu eyed him and then cautiously scooted closer--enough he could reach Chu Wanning if he stretched, but far enough away that he could dodge if Chu Wanning tried to land another punch. He tugged gently on the blanket underneath Chu Wanning. "Do you have ice?"
Chu Wanning frowned. "In the freezer. Why do you need it?"
The hands cupping his nose fell away and revealed the bloody mess Chu Wanning had left. It was, surprisingly, not crooked (good, considering Chu Wanning had no clue how to set that) but the bruising was already starting to darken up. "Someone decided to punch me in the face when I was just trying to be affectionate with-"
"Stop calling me that."
"Or what? You'll punch me again?"
Chu Wanning lifted his head, and Mo Weiyu scurried back as if in fright. It was a funny look on such a big, monstrous-looking man. "I'll get the ice."
Chu Wanning watched idly as Mo Weiyu hopped up from his place on the floor and burst out into the main living area. He did not, and would never admit, that perhaps his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary on the toned back of the still very bare-chested man. The red tattoos were visible there too, winding across the planes of his shoulder blades, curling around his biceps, and leading down below the waistband of his pants. At his ankle, Chu Wanning could see the tattoo peeking out from the cuff of his pants. If he leaned forward a little, watching the way the edge of his waistband dipped lower at his hips revealing more of the-
He'd had a long day, spare him.
Seconds after the door clicked shut behind Mo Weiyu, Chu Wanning heard the scrambling, clanging noise of a body trying to make its way through the mess that was his home.
...Right, Chu Wanning should probably go help him before he broke something else. He tried to push himself up, but exhaustion clung heavily to his limbs. He managed half of a seated position before he flopped back onto the pillow once more.
Mo Weiyu was a big boy; he could handle himself. And if he couldn't? It wouldn't be Chu Wanning's problem.
His head hurt faintly from where he laid on his ponytail. He hadn't actually gotten undressed for bed, far too aware of the prying eyes following his every move. Unfortunately, he was too tired to make himself any more comfortable. Future him could deal with the headache.
What even was this situation? Wasn't it too much like the plot of a cliche novel? Was he dreaming, having fallen asleep at his desk with a book he'd deny ever owning? A handsome demonic emperor far out of his league swooping in to claim him as a bride... It was too ridiculous.
Perhaps it was just a dream. A very lucid dream... with pain and sensation, but a dream, nonetheless. Some part of him which he wouldn't dare admit existed was getting a bit too lonely and had conjured up such a ridiculous plot. Chu Wanning pulled his knees to his chest, adjusting his pillow just so that he could curl his arms around it.
He thought once more of Mo Weiyu. He was unfairly beautiful, far too beautiful to be fawning over Chu Wanning. Those dark eyes should have made him seem intimidating, but all Chu Wanning could think about, remembering the way he had cradled his face in his hands, was how long his eyelashes had seemed, fluttering closed as he leaned in to kiss Chu Wanning.
Chu Wanning's lips still felt warm from where they had met. How might it have gone if he had let it continue, to let himself be pressed against the firm chest and drawn in? How strong were those chains he wore? If Chu Wanning weren't careful, would they snap apart if he wrapped his fingers around them and tugged until the two of them were so close, they couldn't be separated?
If it was a dream... Perhaps he could... As a married couple, wouldn't they...
No, no, no. He buried his face into the pillow, breathing deeply as he willed his heart to slow its frantic pace. He banished all such thoughts from his mind. Chu Wanning did not need any of that.
Slowly his heart rate steadied out, and exhaustion reared its head. Was it possible to feel tired in a dream? Chu Wanning didn't know. He let his eyes fall shut and soon drifted off into sleep.
When he woke next, it was to a hand carding through his hair, having been loosened from its ponytail. The fingers were gentle and slow as they brushed through, smoothing out the tangles and massaging at his scalp still aching from the pressure of wearing his hair up too tightly. In his half-awake state, he could not help but lean into it. He wanted, desperately, to stay like this—basking in this unfamiliar attention with the wonderful excuse of sleep to spare his pride.
Unfortunately, he knew only one person who might have been brave enough to stroke his hair as he slept.
He blinked up to find Mo Weiyu settled at the edge of his bed. A crudely made ice pack rested along the bridge of his nose. His hand, Chu Wanning's hair still held within his palm, paused and retreated to rest against his lap. Chu Wanning's mouth twitched, fighting the urge to frown.
"This venerable one apologizes."
Chu Wanning stopped fighting the urge. "For?"
The claws of Mo Weiyu's hand flexed against the fabric of his pants. He glared at some half-finished robot Chu Wanning had started and then given up. Oh, so apologies from an emperor didn't extend to admitting what was wrong?
Fine, if he couldn't get that from him, the least he could do was get an explanation of the situation. He said as much, watching Mo Weiyu's face crumple into genuine confusion.
"You keep saying that, but weren't you the one who summoned this venerable one?"
No, Chu Wanning felt like he would have remembered doing something like that. "I didn't."
The confusion on Mo Weiyu's face only deepened. Chu Wanning made an indignant noise as he set the ice pack onto Chu Wanning's bed, dampening the sheets with condensation.
Mo Weiyu was too distracted to notice. He'd begun to dig in the small pouch at his hip. The sounds it made as he dug implied it stored far more than its size would allow. Chu Wanning wondered once this was all settled if he could convince Mo Weiyu to let him investigate it. A soft noise of victory pulled him from his thoughts, and he found a delicately folded piece of paper shoved in his chest.
"It was far too important. This venerable one couldn't allow it to remain there," Mo Weiyu said. Perhaps it might have been the light, but it seemed like the red around his nose had extended out to his cheeks.
Chu Wanning sat up, taking the paper into his hands and unfolding it. He quickly discovered "paper" was not the word. It was a napkin, chock full of scribbled notes on the Night Guardian project he'd been working on for ages. In the corner, he found his answer.
A... strange sigil in a dark red ink had been gouged into the edge of the paper, drawn so deep it left divots in the layers underneath. It was small enough that at first his eyes passed by it, even more so with the smudge of something reddish-brown swiped over it.
Chu Wanning glanced at the small nick on his thumb, already scabbed over from where he'd managed to find the one sharp chip on a shot glass some stranger had bought him, likely feeling pity for the sad, old man sitting at the bar alone.
Chu Wanning’s lips pressed together. "That's not my handwriting."
He didn’t even own a pen in that color.
"But that is your blood." Mo Weiyu reached towards Chu Wanning's face, pausing just to see if he would flinch away. When Chu Wanning didn't, he brushed back his hair and thumbed at the earring still dangling from Chu Wanning's ear. "As this is mine. With it, you have offered yourself to this venerable one as his consort. Though the summoning was... rather sloppy, you are forgiven for-"
Chu Wanning didn't even need to know the rest of the sentence, not with the gleam in Mo Weiyu's eyes as he scanned the length of Chu Wanning's body.
Chu Wanning’s mind drifted back to his early thoughts, and he immediately beat them away. "Is there a way out?"
"You- What?"
He waved the napkin in his hands. "There's been a mistake. I don't know how, but I wasn't the one who tried to summon you. It'd be best for the both of us if you break this off and find whoever was the original summoner."
Whoever they were would surely be a better match for someone like Mo Weiyu, and he was sure they'd be much happier together than whatever nonsense would come of this farce.
The reaction Chu Wanning expected was certainly not the one he got. A low growl left Mo Weiyu's throat, though the hand still resting near Chu Wanning's face was gentle as it curled through his hair. Those dark eyes flared to life, glowing purple. He hissed, through sharp teeth, "No."
Chu Wanning inhaled sharply.
No, as in he won't let him or-
"No, as in we can't. There's no going back. Surely in those novels you don't read, you'd have learned that. You are mine, Wanning."
Wait, that… "How did you-?"
"You think very loud."
What?
"And since you were so interested," Mo Weiyu grinned, wide and sharp, dimples leaving little dents in his cheeks. "This venerable one wouldn't mind showing his wife exactly how far these... tattoos you called them?... go down. We do still need to consummate our union, after all."