Work Text:
Qingming looked down at the man in his arms. Strong, brave, valiant, proper Boya was currently sitting with his arms around him, and his nose buried against his neck, and was refusing to move. Qingming had opened the portal to invite him to have a drink, at their agreed upon time, and had ended up with a lapful of Boya as soon as the man stepped through. He hadn't said a word yet. He'd simply sat down between Qingming's legs, pulled clothing aside until he'd exposed his neck, and had essentially wrapped himself around him. After a few moments of shock-induced stillness, Qingming had put his arms around Boya in return. How could he not?
They stayed like that a long time, while Qingming tried to gather his thoughts into some semblance of order, and Boya quietly breathed against him.
“Boya?”
“Mm?”
“What happened?”
He got a noise in return, and a small puff of air against his neck. He couldn't tell if the noise was annoyed, evasive, or happy.
“Boya, you need to talk to me.”
“No talking,” he grumbled.
“You want to just stay like that?”
“Mm. Warm. Smells nice.”
Boya shuffled to get closer, as if that were possible, and adjusted Qingming's clothing so he could get more skin against his face.
“Nice,” Qingming repeated, because he couldn't think of anything productive to say. Boya's warm mouth and nose against his neck made it very difficult to think straight.
“Smells like Qingming.”
“Would be strange if I didn't. Are you all right, Boya?”
“Mm.”
“You're not usually like this.”
“Mm,” he repeated, and squirmed in place.
Qingming couldn't help but smile to himself. Boya was being absolutely adorable, and maybe it should be distressing, but it wasn't. He seemed in good health otherwise.
“What happened?”
“Missed you.”
“I've missed you too, Boya, and we've missed each other several times before, and none of those times did it involve you pulling at my clothes to get at my neck.”
“Should have.”
“Be that as it may, something has happened, and if I don't know what it is, I can't help fix it.”
“Doesn't need fixing,” Boya said, and tightened his grip around Qingming's waist. “Hair.”
“What about hair?”
“Pet.”
Qingming was now more sure than ever that something had happened to Boya, but he did as he was told. There was not enough strength of will in the world to stop him from doing this now that it had been offered to him. He gently loosened Boya's hair from its confines, until it flowed freely down his back. Then he started slowly running his fingers through it, from scalp to shoulders, over and over. Boya made a pleased sound, shivered lightly, and breathed a hot sigh of contentment against Qingming's skin.
They couldn't stay like this. Qingming would be lying if he said he didn't want to stay like this, and Boya had clearly made his feelings on the subject known, but something wasn't right, and he needed to find out what before Boya did something he might regret later. For all he knew, he might already have done so, by basically crawling onto Qingming's lap to... cuddle. That was the only word that fit. Cuddly Boya. It was a combination of words it was difficult to wrap one's head around, if one knew Boya even in the slightest.
Boya exhaled a breath against Qingming's skin, and then something hot and wet moved across the hollow of his throat. Had Boya just licked him? Well, if that wasn't distracting.
“Boya? What are you doing?”
“Curious. Tastes nice.”
“We absolutely need to find out what's wrong with you. When you snap out of it you're going to be mortified.”
“Not snapped into anything,” Boya protested.
Qingming was still petting Boya's hair, and had no intention of stopping anything soon.
“You're not even using full sentences.”
“Too busy.”
“Too busy doing what?”
“Mm, Qingming.”
“You're also not making sense.”
It was almost painful how endlessly adorable Boya was right now. He might get violent afterwards, if Qingming took too much advantage, but it was so hard to not just give in and cuddle him until he purred.
Boya made a dismissive sound, then licked him again.
“You need to not do that,” Qingming said. He hoped it sounded calmer than he felt.
“Why?”
Qingming tried to think of a reason that might get through to Boya in his current state, that wasn't a flat out lie. 'I might end up doing something ill-advised' didn't seem like something that would deter Boya at all right now.
“You're making it difficult to think.”
“Don't need to think. Just hold. Pet.”
The way Boya talked made him sound like a demanding cat given voice. What could have caused this? Spell? Poison? Demon? Something he had been exposed to while working?
“What were you doing before you came here, Boya?”
“Mm.”
It was difficult to tell if the sound was pensive or dismissive.
“Come now, Boya. Please answer.”
Qingming tugged gently at Boya's hair, to get his attention. Boya made a pleased sound before answering.
“Sleeping?”
“You're asking me?”
“Can't remember.” Boya shrugged.
He licked again, and this time Qingming felt teeth. It took real strength of will to keep questioning. At this point he wanted to forget about questions and just curl up and give in to what this cuddly Boya wanted, whatever that was.
“What do you remember?”
“Portal. You.”
“Nothing before that?”
There was a long pause before Boya replied, with a long drawn out sigh.
“Mmm, home.”
“You were home?”
“No. Home now. Qingming.”
The way Boya said his name suggested it was an obvious substitute for the word “home”. Qingming's heart fluttered, and he wondered if Boya could feel it, pressed as he was against his chest and neck. It seemed like Boya had forgotten the question. Qingming looked Boya over, as much as he could with the man pressed as closely against him as he was.
He wasn't in his leather armor, so he had at least had time, and attention span, to change if he had been out before Qingming opened a portal for him. His hair had been tied casually, until Qingming pulled it loose. The portal had been opened into Boya's chambers at Jingyung Temple, as usual. They never stayed there, but it was a place to open the portal where people wouldn't see and ask questions. So whatever had happened had happened in his rooms, happened elsewhere then been triggered later, or by the portal opening, or had happened slowly. Not much to go on. None of the skin Qingming could see was marked, but that wasn't saying much. Most of Boya was completely covered, by clothing or Qingming.
“Do you hurt anywhere, Boya?”
“Nn.” He shook his head against Qingming's neck.
“Do you feel strange?”
“Feel good,” he said, then added “hair” in a more demanding tone.
Qingming resumed his hair petting.
“How does it compare to how you usually feel?”
“Honest.”
Qingming smiled.
“You're still not making sense.”
“Am making sense,” Boya protested. He lifted his face away from Qingming far enough that his words were less muffled. “Now feels honest.”
“Honest. Honest how?”
“No hiding,” he said, leaning back against skin, and going back to the soft contented voice. “Just Qingming.”
“Do you usually hide, Boya?”
“Mm.” He sounded dazed again. “Always hiding. Can't tell.”
“What can't you tell?”
“Truth.”
“What truth?”
Boya replied with a sigh again, instead of words. He curled himself closer against Qingming's body. Qingming was struggling with himself, but couldn't find the strength to stop.
“What truth can't you tell, Boya?”
“Love.”
That word completely stalled out whatever thoughts Qingming might have been preparing, to the point where he couldn't even remember if he had been preparing any. He needed several moments to compose himself, and knew Boya must be able to feel how hard his heart was thundering in his chest right now. He wanted to ask more, but also not. Asking more would feel like taking advantage. At the same time, he did need to figure out what had happened to Boya, and how to fix it. Would this question matter to that, or would it just be utterly selfish to ask?
Qingming quickly concluded it would be selfish, and then asked anyway.
“What love, Boya? Which love?”
Boya replied with a contented sound and a happy sounding sigh.
“Qingming.”
Qingming trembled. He shouldn't read anything into this. Boya was very clearly not in his right mind. He was taking advantage of a friend, to satisfy his own curiosity and needs. He was going to feel guilty about this later. Guilty that he gave in to his own weakness, at the cost of Boya's. He would feel guilty, and terrible, and he still desperately needed to know.
“Do you love me, Boya?”
“Yes,” Boya said, the word uttered clearly, as opposed to the distracted mumbling that had colored most of his words today.
“For how long?”
“Forever.”
Boya slid one of his hands up, along Qingming's neck and into his hair. He curled his fingers against Qingming's scalp, his nails gently scratching. Qingming shuddered. Boya used the hand as leverage to pull himself up further, until his nose was behind Qingming's ear, instead of against his throat.
“Qingming,” he whispered.
The intimacy of his voice, compared to moments earlier, made Qingming shudder again.
“Boya.”
Boya settled down against Qingming again, but not quite as loosely as before. He left this hand in Qingming's hair, Qingming held him close, unable to find words or coherent thoughts. He was overwhelmed.
“Do you love me?” Boya asked, voice again free of drowsy contentment.
“Boya.”
“Do you, Qingming?”
The clarity of voice, and insistence, should really have clued Qingming onto that Boya was coming out of his trance, but he was too lost in his own feelings to notice. Too lost in Boya. Content, sweet, cat Boya, who was so completely different from his normal self, and who had just claimed to be honest when he told him he loved him.
“Yes, Boya. I do.”
“Which love?”
“The kind where all I want to do is to hold you in my arms.”
“For how long?” Boya whispered; his breath trembling on the final word.
Qingming somehow knew he was being asked how long he had loved, and not how long he would hold him, though the answer to both was the same.
“Forever.”
Boya sat up then, and looked Qingming in the eyes for the first time since he'd arrived. His eyes were clear and sharp. Qingming was trying to pull his thoughts together enough to formulate questions when Boya used the hand still in Qingming's hair to pull him closer. Boya's eyes flashed to Qingming's lips, and he understood what was about to happen. He understood, and closed the distance.
The kiss, their first, was warm and slow. They were already in each other's arms, so they didn't have to move much to get comfortable against each other, to get close. Qingming's mind was still trying to catch up to what was happening. Boya had said he loved him, he had told Boya he loved him too. Boya was kissing him. He was kissing Boya. It was all so overwhelming. Boya was supposed to be proper, and reserved, and prone to acting on anger, and not afraid to voice his displeasure. Boya today had been nothing like that. Boya today had been languid, sweet, content, and kind of adorable. Qingming pulled back from the kiss to look properly at Boya.
Boya looked back, with a mildly dazed look in his eyes. His hand slipped away from Qingming's hair, and he sat up straighter than he had all evening. He looked like he was composing himself.
“Boya? Are you okay?”
“Yes.” The tiniest of smiles curled the edge of Boya's lips.
“Are you sure?” Qingming asked, trying to not get distracted by the ghost of a smile. “You've been acting strange.”
“You mean me acting like an attention starved animal all evening isn't what you'd usually expect from me?” Boya raised an eyebrow.
“Did you do that on purpose?”
Boya shot him a look of pure disdain.
“Do you think I would act like that on purpose? Like some damned catnip drunk feline on a lap in front of a fire?”
Qingming smiled. It was a surprisingly accurate description of his behavior tonight.
“No, Qingming. I did not do that on purpose.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“A crafty old witch happened.”
He said it with an annoyance that was entirely Boya.
Qingming's worries eased.
“I think I might like this story.”
“I won't.”
“Please tell. We can get comfortable again.”
Qingming was aware he was teasing. Falling into their usual way of interacting. He wasn't sure he liked the change in himself.
“You were right about something you said earlier,” Boya said.
“What was that?”
“I am mortified by my behavior. I can't believe how I've been acting.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Why did you let me?”
“Let you?”
“You should have pushed me away, and chained me down, until you could figure out how to make me stop being an octopus all over you.”
“It was cute.”
“I licked you.”
It was difficult to argue with that, but at this point Qingming was grinning like an idiot and didn't care. Boya was back to normal. At least more normal. Less cuddly, more angry, but still cute.
“Boya,” Qingming murmured.
“What?”
“Does this mean you didn't mean what you said, and when you kissed me?”
Qingming put fake hurt into his voice, because he didn't doubt the sincerity of Boya's words and actions while he'd been less than fully aware. Boya had not been acting like himself, but he hadn't been acting deceitful. Boya froze. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as he presumably tried to think of something to say that would be still be true, but also contain more pride.
Eventually he gave up. He sighed, then took hold of Qingming's face with both hands.
“I haven't said an untrue word to you since I arrived,” he said quietly, but then his voice rose as he continued. “I have been painfully, embarrassingly, mortifyingly, honest with you.”
Qingming kissed him again, and marveled that he not only was allowed to, but was enthusiastically kissed in return. Kissing Boya was something he had wanted to do for a very long time, but had stopped himself from trying, out of fear of pushing Boya away. Boya wasn't being pushed away. He was being pulled closer. It was all wonderful, and staggering, and incredible. Boya was kissing him.
They spent some time just kissing, before Qingming pulled himself back to reality. He wanted to lose himself from it again immediately. Kissing Boya was the best thing he had ever experienced. He let himself get pulled in by Boya a while longer, before coming back up for air again, and finding his voice.
“You've also been painfully adorable,” Qingming said, partially as a distraction from wanting to kiss more. It seemed improper to just spend the rest of their time together doing nothing but kiss.
“Don't remind me.”
“I will, repeatedly.”
Boya gave him a scathing look.
“Do you really think a grown man curling up and demanding to have his hair petted is adorable?”
“When Boya did it it was adorable.”
Boya huffed irritably.
“I am also still happy to do it,” Qingming said.
“Do what?”
“Pet your hair. Come, Boya. Sit.”
Boya glared at him, then huffed again, not unlike a frustrated cat, and sat back down in the spot he'd occupied since he'd arrived. Qingming wrapped his arms around him again, and started gently petting his hair as he had.
“This is still embarrassing,” Boya said, but leaned against Qingming's neck again anyway, though without his nose buried as close against it as it had been.
“We're the only two here. And you weren't embarrassed before.”
“I am now.”
“Then stop. And feel free to pet my hair in return, because it was quite pleasant.”
Qingming felt a smile against his neck, before Boya did as he was told. His fingers rubbed at Qingming's scalp, and carded through his hair.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, but Qingming's curiosity wouldn't let him fully relax.
“So, this crafty witch...”
“Not going to let it go, are you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I was out hunting, and there was this demon making a mess in a poorer part of the city. I took care of it, because that's what I do, but then this very nice elderly lady insisted on giving me tea as a thank you.”
“And you accepted?” Qingming asked. It was unlike Boya to have a break during a hunt to have tea.
“I don't know why, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. At this point I am blaming magic.”
“And she put a spell on you?”
“We had a pleasant conversation, and she managed to get out of me that I have been having difficulties being honest with someone important to me. Don't ask me how. Still blaming magic.”
“Ah, she did?” Qingming asked calmly, while trying hard to not show his amusement.
“I hear that laugh in your voice. This is all indirectly your fault.”
Qingming pulled gently on Boya's hair as he stroked it. Boya make a pleased sound in response, which was not quite the reaction Qingming had been after.
“I don't see how it can be my fault that you have difficulties being honest. Haven't you prided yourself on your honesty?”
“There's being honest, and then there's volunteering unasked for information that you don't even know the other person wants to know.”
There was truth in that. Honest didn't necessarily mean upfront honest.
“And what was her suggestion?” Qingming asked.
“She didn't offer any, other than vague stuff. She made more tea, and insisted I have some. It tasted different.”
“Did she say what it was?”
“No, but right before I left she said it's easier for animals to be honest. Simpler thoughts translate to simpler actions, and simpler wants. And then she said the proof she's the one who caused this.”
“Which was?”
“Perhaps, next time you meet your friend, you should endeavor to have simpler thoughts, wants, and actions, and maybe honesty will happen on its own,” Boya quoted, before grumbling “meddling witch”.
“What will you do the next time you meet her?” Qingming asked.
“Do?”
“Yes, do.”
“Thank her,” Boya said.
He pulled himself closer again, and buried his nose against Qingming's throat as he had before.
“If I ever meet her again, I'll thank her.”