Work Text:
Zhuzhi-lang had always known he was a monster. Horrid, repulsive, the hatred for himself etched deep into the very bones that never sat quite right — he had never presumed himself to be worthy of any title other than that of a monster.
Except like this. Safe, cared for, laying within the embrace of the man he loved.
“Nightmare?” Shen Qingqiu asked, soothing a hand over Zhuzhi-lang’s hair, his nape, his back. His fingers trailed gently down the demon’s spine, tracing the vertebrae kept neatly in place by the spiritual energy of his Junshang. His hand stopped just below Zhuzhi-lang’s shoulder blades, thumb tracing shallow circles into his skin and soothing his rapid breathing.
In this form, Zhuzhi-lang’s heart was much more prone to start racing. He felt it earlier, when his dreams turned for the worse. He felt it now, when Shen Qingqiu cupped his face with his free palm to make their eyes meet.
“It’s nothing,” Zhuzhi-lang lied, pushing back memories of a childhood he would not wish onto anyone. Shen Qingqiu, albeit still drunk with sleep, seemed entirely unconvinced. “I’m sorry for waking you up, Master Shen. Don’t mind me, ah, let’s just sleep.”
Laying in bed without his fan to hide behind, the expression on Shen Qingqiu’s face looked so overwhelmingly candid and open than Zhuzhi-lang had to take a moment just to check that he wasn’t seeing things. He thought of rubbing his eyes to be sure, but that would have required looking away from that breath-taking immortal, and who knew if he’d still be there when he opened his eyes once more?
“Tsk, still not dropping the ‘Master Shen’, I see,” Shen Qingqiu said, his teasing words still bathed in the remnant waters of sleep. He cupped one hand over Zhuzhi-lang’s cheek, eyes somehow shining even in the thick darkness of the moonless night as he mumbled, his voice lilting, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but why not try something cheesy for once? Honey? My love? My unbreaking sword? Husband?”
Husband.
Before the blood had a chance to rush to his cheeks, Zhuzhi-lang tucked his face away into the crook of Shen Qingqiu’s neck. Not that he actually thought a flush would have been visible to the regular human eye in this darkness, but the embarrassment still drove him to hide like a panicked snake slipping away into the underwood.
Besides, the hiding place he had found for himself was nothing to laugh at — from here, nose pressed to the searing hot skin of Shen Qingqiu’s throat, he could hear the gentle laugh that answered his actions all the better.
“Master Shen is being cruel,” he said, melting into the touch along his hair, down his back. He thought to himself, not for the first time, that the aches of all these past decades of his life, the pain of dying and coming back, none of them could overpower the warmth he felt simply by being near Shen Qingqiu.
“Cruel?!” Shen Qingqiu pulled away to look at him indignantly, pupils blown wide and lips drawn into what he would most certainly insist was not a pout. “This husband was woken up with you and was merely trying to offer solace, to let you know I am here for you! Do you think I want to be called those pet names? Of course this is all just for your benefit…”
His words trailed off at the end, as if he seemed to realise just how unbelievable they sounded even to his own ears. Evidently missing his fan, he hid his face behind his hand, a coy look in his eyes as he looked away.
“Of course.” Zhuzhi-lang could feel a slight smile pulling at his mouth as he reached up to wrap a hand around Shen Qingqiu’s wrist and gently uncover his face. “That is very thoughtful of Master Shen.”
And then, fighting down the butterflies that threatened to eat him up from the inside out whenever he so much as looked at his husband, he raised Shen Qingqiu’s fingers to his lips and tenderly kissed along the knuckles. As he busied himself working his way along each finger, he heard Shen Qingqiu exhale and felt him relax again, returning to the usual composed facade he liked to put on.
“Xizhi-lang,” he called out, careful, soft. He linked his fingers with Zhuzhi-lang’s while his free hand slowly combed through the other’s long hair. “Are you feeling any better?”
A simple nod and a hum in response.
“Was it a very bad nightmare?” Shen Qingqiu pressed, his voice as warm as a summer’s breeze.
Zhuzhi-lang looked up to meet his gaze, finding pupils blown wide in the darkness just a short distance away from him. All he could say was, “Mn… I’d rather not talk about it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Alright.” Shen Qingqiu leaned forward and closed the distance between the two of them, lips meeting each other in a light kiss. Another day, another time, he might have led this somewhere else and Zhuzhi-lang would have been more than happy to comply; but right now, he seemed content with just a quick peck before leaning back again to mutter, “Tell me if you change your mind.”
Zhuzhi-lang hummed again, pleased like a lizard on a sunlit rock. Maybe tomorrow, he would tell Shen Qingqiu about his nightmare and the horrid memories that fed it. And maybe one day, Shen Qingqiu would also share with him his own nightmares and the memories that plagued him.
For now, though, all he wanted was to fall asleep while holding his husband’s hand.