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To say Hua Cheng looked good would be an understatement. Objectively, yes, he was a good-looking guy, clear skin and crimson lips and all that beauty-standard bone structure — perhaps, say, too good-looking, in an almost threatening way; never towards Xie Lian, though.
To Xie Lian, he was, simply, too much. It became difficult to look at him sometimes, and more often than not, Xie Lian would not be able to hold his gaze and look down at his lap, cheeks ablaze. Maybe sometimes Hua Cheng wouldn’t comb his hair, or bother with putting on his eyepatch, or eat something he knows he shouldn’t because his skin would break out—
And, yet, Hua Cheng still looked more divine than if the Heavens had descended on Earth, and Xie Lian still couldn’t look at him.
So, yes, to say Hua Cheng looked good would be an understatement, because if you are Xie Lian, Hua Cheng would look at you like you hung the moon and shifted mountains for him, like you were the reason the sun rose in the sky, like your eyes held the stars of the universe and your smile could outshine the light in your eyes.
Xie Lian could not look him in the eye.
There’d be instances, a coincidence, they looked up at the same time and met eyes, maybe Hua Cheng pointed something out so that Xie Lian would face him once he’d looked, only to find that Hua Cheng was already looking at him, or that one time they’d been too close for Xie Lian’s comfort, and all Hua Cheng did was look at him, again, with that look in his eye, never once straying from his features, like a moth drawn to flame.
He knew how it made him feel, but he couldn’t describe it.
Even now, when Hua Cheng gripped Xie Lian’s hands in his own, pressed his forehead to Xie Lian’s and whispered promises only he could hear, Xie Lian did not want to look up.
He was afraid, he figured. He felt undeserving of what Hua Cheng saw in him. He felt like Hua Cheng’s version of him was not him, it was an ideal him, not the man who stood in front of him right now, whose hands he held, to whom he pledged his utmost devotion. That was not Hua Cheng’s Xie Lian. He was not Hua Cheng’s Xie Lian.
Yet, even though Hua Cheng had seen all of him, from his rise and fall, from his failure against White No-Face, where he, at his worst, almost unleashed the disease that brought the demise of his own people — where Xie Lian gave up, stopped caring, stopped believing, where Hua Cheng still did — how could he still hold him to that high regard?
Xie Lian had asked, once, and never again. “How do you look at me the same, knowing everything?”
To which Hua Cheng had recited, “To me, the one basking in infinite glory is you, the one fallen from grace is also you. What matters is you, and not the state of you.”
Xie Lian didn’t dare think over his words or the implications. He never brought it up again.
It took him, maybe, months before he got used to the gentleness in Hua Cheng’s eye. When they’d finally been able to talk, peacefully and properly, it had been too long since Xie Lian had last seen him, and the intensity of Hua Cheng’s gaze had broken him on the spot, barely registering anything apart from the arms around him, the body pressed close to his, holding him.
And Xie Lian had to get used to it, all over again. Except — it wasn’t too hard this time because Hua Cheng’s gaze was the same as before, but Xie Lian’s eyes looked at it differently. This time, he didn’t see it as a standard to be met, but as a show of gratitude. He accepted it gracefully, because the part of him that couldn’t let go of the past that had died with Jun Wu, and perhaps, died when Hua Cheng surrendered his all to him, gave his everything to his most cherished and beloved, to whom he stayed devoted til the end — and finally, finally, Xie Lian could look him in the eye and return that kindness most honestly.
So when their gazes met next, Xie Lian held it, and he smiled at Hua Cheng.
He didn’t understand completely, but he was trying. Just how had Hua Cheng stayed loyal to him, even after everything that transpired following his banishment and the way he had treated Wuming? Even after Hua Cheng saw him act like a madman, almost dying in the process, yet, unrelenting, had stayed by his side? It blew Xie Lian’s mind. He couldn’t process this — but, surely, bit by bit, as he grew accustomed to life with Hua Cheng, he understood he’d do the same for him.
He’d walk a thousand miles if it meant he could collapse in Hua Cheng's arms like he does every night, he'd burn three thousand lanterns to light up the night if Hua Cheng thought it too dark. He would, like Hua Cheng had, willingly and mindfully surrender himself to him completely; give him all the spiritual power he had in his body and then some if Hua Cheng ever asked.
Sometimes, Xie Lian felt too fiercely. He'd want to laugh and cry, he'd want to hold Hua Cheng close and never let go, he'd want to break Hua Cheng down to the rawest version of himself and embrace him, because there wasn't a part of Hua Cheng Xie Lian couldn't love.
He had, in the past, turned the ever-proud, unaffected Hua Cheng into a mess of panting and whispers, the words, "Your Royal Highness" spoken with enough reverence to break Xie Lian's heart, followed by, "please", desperate enough for Xie Lian to give in.
Later, he'd brush through Hua Cheng's freshly-wet hair, humming a tune he had picked up while walking around Ghost City, when Hua Cheng would gently grab his wrist and bring it to his mouth, delicately kissing the veins that were visible through Xie Lian's complexion, like a touch of a butterfly.
It would stun Xie Lian, but he'd return to combing through Hua Cheng's strands after a few seconds, clearing his throat. He remembered the first time he'd done this:
"San Lang, you can't sleep with wet hair, you will wake up unwell. You must let it dry."
To which, Hua Cheng had leisurely replied, "There are many things gege has forgotten he can use his spiritual powers for," and that was that.
(Nevermind that Hua Cheng could not wake up unwell, they let details like this slip.)
Xie Lian still insisted on combing it before drying it, so naturally Hua Cheng would indulge him.
It was after a few more seconds of basking silence when Hua Cheng held up his palm, a red coral presented on the surface.
"Gege can have it back, if he so pleases."
Xie Lian smiled, took the coral from Hua Cheng, and set it on the ground. He combed through his dried hair, then picked a small section in the front to braid. Hua Cheng turned his head accordingly.
"I do not want it back. What is mine is San Lang's, now."
There was a soft smile which graced Hua Cheng's lips, and Xie Lian did not comment, lest he stopped smiling like that. It was rare to see a small smile on Hua Cheng, when he was so used to smiling widely and fakely. Xie Lian rather preferred this side of him, when he'd calmed down and lowered all defenses. He only wanted to show this part of him to one person, and Xie Lian felt his misfortune had faltered when he was the only one who knew of this Hua Cheng.
His hands deftly braided the locks together, then tied them firmly. He slipped the coral on and secured it, satisfied, then he slipped his fingers under Hua Cheng's chin and guided his face to look at Xie Lian.
"San Lang."
There was too much to say. Xie Lian didn't know where to start.
"Gege."
And Xie Lian thought, now they had all the time in the world, he would always have a chance to tell Hua Cheng what he wanted.
"There are many things I wish to tell you, but I can't speak them today."
Hua Cheng nodded, once. "There's always tomorrow."
Xie Lian smiled, "And the day after that."
"Whatever Your Highness wants to say, I will listen."
So Xie Lian looked at him some more, his eyes darting from his forehead to his eyes (it was extremely rare for Hua Cheng to remove his eyepatch and not feel conscious of it, after all, he had grown used to hiding those parts of himself) to his nose to his lips to the strands of hair which had fallen forward and refused to stay in place, and Xie Lian moved the fingers at Hua Cheng’s chin to tuck those strands behind his ear.
He held Xie Lian’s retreating hand and placed it back on his nape.
Xie Lian’s smile widened in a subtle way, in the way that his smile spread to his body instead of stretching his lips, the way his smile was the warmth of Hua Cheng’s cold skin pressed below his hand, was the coiling satisfaction making him feel hollow and full at the same time, was the stars in his eyes he could see reflected in Hua Cheng’s.
It was a bit too much, Xie Lian felt, yet, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. How long was Hua Cheng going to watch him?
As if hearing his question, he replied, “I could look at gege for seven days and seven nights and not tire.”
“And the stars could align in the skies and I would still chose to look at you, San Lang.”
Xie Lian would not usually humour Hua Cheng’s compliments, because most of the time, he did not know how to reply. Lately, though, Xie Lian had been keeping too many things to himself, he knew this.
The thing is, sometimes Xie Lian had trouble expressing himself — eight hundred years and he should have figured out the requirements of his soul, but this — no matter what he had experienced in the past — this was new, overwhelmingly so.
So when he replied to Hua Cheng, it was only a result of too much building up within him. He didn’t know what to do with these feelings, or urges, or, was it, needs? Was it only desire, and not a necessity? There were these invisible ropes binding over his heart and weighing him down, whenever he thought of Hua Cheng. At the same time, there were waves of elation coursing through his blood, threatening to spill, pushing at his arteries and veins until Xie Lian would burst, inevitably, and those words which waited, stuck in his throat, would flow out, because, really, when was Xie Lian resistant towards Hua Cheng?
The compliment caught Hua Cheng off-guard, he looked down. “Gege is in a good mood today.”
It was impossible for a Ghost King to blush, but if they could, Xie Lian knew Hua Cheng’s body would betray him.
“Hm. I’m always in a good mood when I’m with San Lang.”
“As am I, with Your Highness.”
Xie Lian felt that warmth again. It was frustrating, not being able to explain the extent to which Hua Cheng’s presence alleviated his mood, but, he couldn’t find the words, how would he say that?
“I mean that, sincerely, I mean it.”
To this, Hua Cheng raised his head, small frown gracing his features — “Your Highness, is something the matter?”
“No, not at all — San Lang does not need to worry.”
“If I do not need to worry, does that mean Your Highness needs to?”
Hua Cheng had always been so perceptive, why was this taking him by surprise? Why was he realising this now?
Xie Lian, “Sigh, why is San Lang so concerned, it is not a heavy matter.”
Hua Cheng, “Gege can tell me whatever he wishes, I will listen — heavy or not.”
A moment of silence. “Come here,” Xie Lian whispered.
Really, why was he acting so bold today? This was very unlike him — he felt so uncertain yet so sure of himself. Xie Lian had learned that trusting himself would only bring adversity to him, however, around Hua Cheng, that was never prevalent. The Ghost King’s luck seemed to be grand enough to subdue Xie Lian’s misfortune.
Hua Cheng obliged, like he would, and shifted closer to where Xie Lian was sitting. His hair was falling over his face because Xie Lian was yet to tie it back, so using his hand which was not placed at Hua Cheng’s nape, he ran his fingers through the curtain of hair which covered his sewn-shut eyelid and held it back.
Xie Lian lifted his hand from Hua Cheng’s nape to cup his cheek and stroked his skin with his thumb, once, twice, before leaning in to kiss him on the mouth.
It was chaste, Hua Cheng responded in earnest, like he always does — but, there was something wrong, even Hua Cheng could sense it. He placed his hands on Xie Lian’s shoulders and slightly pushed him back.
“If something is the matter—”
Xie Lian cut him off with another kiss.
“Your Highness should—”
And another.
“Talk to me.”
Another, then Hua Cheng covered the hand on his cheek with his own. “What’s wrong, gege?”
Xie Lian went quiet. “Nothing is wrong. Absolutely nothing. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.”
“Then why is Your Highness acting strange?”
“There are some things I cannot explain, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng was silent for a second, then nodded. “Are these good things?”
“More than good.”
Hua Cheng, “Then, if Your Highness is happy, I am happy.”
There it was again — the invisible ropes and the unbounded elation. How did Hua Cheng not know of the effect he had on him?
“Though,” he spoke again, tilted his head to a side, and Xie Lian knew this to be a sign of Hua Cheng’s cunning nature coming into play, “if gege cannot explain using words, are there any other ways?”
Unsurprising.
Ironically, Xie Lian luckily had a response to that.
“I don’t know, San Lang, can you think of any other ways?”
“If Your Highness is in the mood to be humoured—”
“Absolutely not.”
“Great. Neither was I, Your Highness.”
So Hua Cheng deftly tied his hair back, depriving Xie Lian of the simple joy he seemed to get when doing mundane things for Hua Cheng.
He stood — Xie Lian was once again reminded that Hua Cheng was taller than him, this somehow, always managed to slip his mind — and offered Xie Lian a hand, too.
Xie Lian did not take it.
“What is with Your Highness today, you do not seem to be—”
“Stop talking, San Lang.”
His tone was too kind to be considered rude, and, in that tone (any tone, really, Xie Lian was never inconsiderate) Hua Cheng could not refuse him anything.
He abruptly stopped talking.
“Good,” Xie Lian smiled, then held Hua Cheng’s once-extended hand to lead him to the divan.
“What next? Shall I close my eyes too?”
“If you so wish, San Lang.”
Evidently, he was not expecting a serious answer. Hua Cheng tensed in Xie Lian’s grip. Immediately, Xie Lian was alarmed.
“Did I say something to make you uncomfortable?”
Yet, Hua Cheng looked at him like he usually would, except with more — trust? Reverence? Desire?
“Not at all — I am happy to see Your Highness take initiative.”
Xie Lian blushed. “Don’t say it like that.”
Hua Cheng, “Why not?”
Xie Lian rolled his eyes, fondly. “Come.”
“Gege, I still don’t understand why I —”
“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”
Hua Cheng grinned. “What Your Highness wants, he shall get.”
"Have I told you that I love you, today, San Lang?"
Hua Cheng stopped at the foot of the divan, causing Xie Lian to stop as well. He turned, slight worry taking over him — it's not like he said anything wrong, Xie Lian was certain of that.
Hua Cheng, awkwardly,"Gege is… acting strange today."
Xie Lian was immediately embarrassed. "What kind of a lover am I, if asking you this question is strange?"
Seeing Xie Lian's distress, Hua Cheng jumped to explain himself.
"No, no, not at all my intentions, I apologise, Your Highness. It is not your words, but the way you have spoken them. Are you…" Hua Cheng picked his next words carefully. "Does gege have a lot on his mind?"
Xie Lian couldn't answer with no, that would be lying.
"I do, San Lang," he walked to bridge the distance between them, and held both of Hua Cheng's hands in his own. "But in a good way. In a way that makes me happy when I think about it."
Hua Cheng smiled, the same soft, small smile from earlier.
"Will gege share these thoughts with me?"
Xie Lian brought their joined hands to his lips, and kissed the back of Hua Cheng's palm.
"May I show you instead?"
~
Sleep was dreamless and fulfilling, Hua Cheng tucked into his chest as Xie Lian sprawled, his grip unwavering like Hua Cheng would fade away if he was too lax. He didn’t need to see that happen twice in his lifetime.
Last night was — last night, goodness, Xie Lian would cover his face with his hands if they weren’t holding Hua Cheng.
He had cried. He held Hua Cheng’s face in his hands, kissed his forehead, kissed his eyes, kissed his cheekbones (he was too pretty, that simply was not allowed) and broken down before he could kiss his lips. If Xie Lian hadn’t kept apologising through his tears and been silenced for every apology because “gege, you have nothing to apologise for”, he doesn’t think he would’ve stopped.
It wasn’t the crying he was particularly bothered by. It was more, he didn’t know how to express these feelings, he doesn’t know if Hua Cheng understood.
Though, when Xie Lian had calmed down considerably and kissed down Hua Cheng’s chest to his navel and settled his hands at his hip bones and leaned up to kiss him again and praise him, over and over, Hua Cheng had laughed and said, “Why is gege praising me so much today?”
And Xie Lian had replied, “I don’t do it enough, I feel as though San Lang doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know what?” Clearly, Hua Cheng was enjoying this.
“San Lang doesn’t know how pretty he is,” Xie Lian kissed him again, who was he to deny Hua Cheng from hearing the words he deserved to hear?
“Doesn’t know how brave he is,” He kissed his jaw, then the hollow of his throat —
“Doesn’t know how kind he is.”
Xie Lian littered kisses along his clavicles — “Doesn’t know how selfless he is.” — another kiss at his jaw — “Doesn’t know how his smile is most precious.”
When Xie Lian kissed along the line of his sternum, Hua Cheng held his hair back. “Doesn’t know how he always makes me feel better.”
A sharp inhale. “Gege—”
“It’s true.”
He looked up to meet his gaze, which he could return in earnest, hoping his eyes could convey love with the same intensity as Hua Cheng’s.
Hua Cheng looked away. “Your Highness.”
“San Lang, look up.”
He did. Xie Lian shifted up and placed himself on Hua Cheng’s lap. “San Lang doesn’t know how loved he is.”
“I know, Your—”
“Then let me say it, regardless. San Lang is loved.”
“Gege —”
“Hush,” Xie Lian bends to finally, finally kiss him on the lips. It is quiet, reverent, not something Hua Cheng is used to but definitely something he can get used to. They kiss slowly, Hua Cheng’s arms raising by their own accord to embrace Xie Lian.
“I love you,” he tells him, eventually, once he is satisfied with what he’s conveyed through his lips and fingers. “San Lang, I—”
“I know,” Hua Cheng interrupts. “I know how gege feels, I understand.”
Momentarily, Xie Lian wants to argue, no, he does not understand, he cannot understand, he is not Xie Lian, he does not see himself how Xie Lian does.
In the back of his mind, it falls into place — of course he does.
Of course, Hua Cheng understands. He has too. The same fire behind Xie Lian’s eyes when he looks at Hua Cheng burns behind his eyes when he looks at Xie Lian. The love only he can feel for Hua Cheng, which he would bet all three realms for, which he would kill and die for, which he would repeat his last 800 years for, is the same as Hua Cheng’s love for him.
“You look at me,” Hua Cheng whispers between them, “the way I look at you.”
Xie Lian searches his gaze and finds what he is looking for.
“I love you,” Hua Cheng’s arm slips from his side to rest on his cheek, “the same way you love me, gege.”
Xie Lian shifts his head to kiss the hand on his cheek. He swoops lower to place a kiss on Hua Cheng’s wrist like he had earlier on Xie Lian’s, and then lower to kiss along the veins on his forearm. He stops before he gets to his elbow.
“What does gege need?”
“Only you,” comes the immediate response.
Hua Cheng’s arms circle Xie Lian’s waist, then let go to hold him by his elbows. He draws him close and reaches up to kiss him. It feels as if some of Xie Lian’s tension has alleviated in knowing that Hua Cheng understands.
When Xie Lian traces his fingers up Hua Cheng’s torso to settle them at his nape, Hua Cheng breaks their kiss to place his lips on Xie Lian’s palm.
“Gege is so loved,” he breathes into the space between them, murmuring against Xie Lian’s palm. “So, so loved.”
“I know, San Lang,” Xie Lian lets himself fall on Hua Cheng’s body, face tilted so that he can hear Hua Cheng’s heartbeat. “I understand.”
And when Xie Lian cries into Hua Cheng’s arms, still holding his face in his hands, he will remember how the ghost of Hua Cheng’s tears dried on his hands, in a centuries-old familiarity.