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Waking up with the knowledge that you have the entire day to spend in bed with your beloved if you so wished is the most beautiful and freeing feeling that Hua Cheng has ever known in his long 800 years of existence. Throughout all those years of yearning, of aching for his god’s kind words and touch, he never truly expected it to come true. It was a child’s dream; the dream of a protector who could not achieve his one goal keeping him tethered to the earth for centuries. It was an obsession, one that Hua Cheng never wanted to burden his god with should they ever reach a point in their relationship for his feelings to come to light; one that he knew had reached a line and crossed it a long time ago, but one that he could not stop despite the growing feels of disgust towards himself for having such sullying thoughts. But most importantly it is a deep and unending love, one that seems to grow unceasingly as each day, each year goes by. Where one would assume the desires expertly hidden deep in his long dead heart would eventually fade, they only grew exponentially instead.
Burdening his god has always been a main fear of his, something that always tickled the back of his mind even while he was being told that he was somehow the most important being in his god’s life. Having this role has been Hua Cheng’s desire for so long that finally bearing the weight of the sentiment is terrifying. He would never, ever exchange it for anything in all of the three realms, but that is exactly the problem. He has never cared much for himself, holding little to no regard for his own life apart from what he can do for the kind and gracious god that saved him -saves him- in more ways than one; he has willingly and enthusiastically gifted the source of his life to his savior for him to do with it what he will, but to hold the weight of his beloved’s heart in his cold dead hands was a responsibility he could never get used to. One he never wanted to get used to. Having someone you love and worship with every fiber of your being happily hand their very limited trust and faith and love for others over to you with no sign of hesitance was more than a little jarring.
If you were to ask just about anyone that either knew or knew of Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Hua Cheng, Supreme Ghost King, King of Ghost City if they thought he were weak in anyway, they would probably laugh in your face and warn you that saying such words could lead to your untimely demise. This is true, of course, Hua Cheng has paid special mind to his strength, requiring the ability to protect his god. However, what only one person would ever answer to that question would be that yes, he is weak; he is so devastatingly weak that just the mere thought of disappointing his god in anyway is enough to send him into a panicked state, that seeing his god with even something as small and insignificant as a paper cut is enough to deserve self-punishment, that he is nothing more than a frightened weak child hiding beneath a few layers of cockiness to convince the world he is stronger than he truly is. This person is, of course, Hua Cheng himself.
He is grossly undeserving of the gentle treatment his god bestows upon him. As much as Hua Cheng wants to believe the kind words -and oh how he wants to believe them- he is also aware of just how grotesquely broken he is. He barely allowed himself to dream about living side by side with his god, but now that he has somehow gotten just that, he actively forces himself to never hope for a forever. There will come a day, Hua Cheng is sure, that his god will suddenly open his eyes and see for himself just how how unsuitable the ghost is for him, that he will finally realize the eternity he has promised is far too long of a time to suffer in the life entirely unfit for him. Knowing that this day will inevitably come most likely sooner rather than later, that his boundless luck will run out, Hua Cheng has made a vow to himself: no matter how undeserving he is of the relationship he has been graced with, he will serve his god to the absolute best of his ability to ensure he is at least somewhat comfortable before he reaches clarity. His happiness and comfort is not a requirement in this arrangement, doing whatever makes his god happy is enough fulfillment for him.
He has started to hope though; somewhere deep in the recesses of his unbeating heart lies a flicker of hope that just will not die out. A belief that perhaps the safe presence of his god by his side would not fade; that perhaps even without anything more between the two his god would be so gracious as to allow his devoted and humble believer to remain by his side. It is a pitiful spark, one that should be able to be blown out by a simple breeze, but hasn’t.
This single lone flame of unwarranted hope is doubtlessly the cause for such a pathetic cry to escape past his lips when he finally wakes up but to an empty bed. His god was nowhere to be found in the room, the warm comfort of safety completely gone leaving Hua Cheng shivering despite his already cool skin. All he could think in the midst of his agonizing panic was that he was finally abandoned, that his god finally realized he deserved better and left.
There is no telling just how long Hua Cheng lied there in their (his) empty bed, silk sheets wrapped around his shaking form and fat, silent tears rolling down his cheeks from the eye he was squeezing shut. If he were to try hard enough perhaps he would open that eye and realize it was all some cruel nightmare conjured up by his subconscious hellbent on forever causing him to suffer. Perchance he would open that eye and find soft honeyed ones looking back at him. But of course, like the nonexistent luck of his childhood, no such miracle awaited him when he slowly cracked open his eye.
He was thrown back into the last 800 years of waiting, of suffering, of agony when he was nothing more than an empty husk needing filled. When he was allowing his god to suffer needlessly while he couldn’t even find the courage to go save him even once. The pain that heavily coated every inch of his body and the self-loathing kept him from functioning for so long, and he knows that he cannot be that person again (even if he always has been). Even if he has been abandoned, his god may need his help again one day, and should that day arrive he has a responsibility to pick his empty vessel up and go to his aid. He can only pray that hoping the red string attaching them remains intact is not too far of a wish to have. It is no excuse, but Hua Cheng could truly not find his god for centuries; if this failure were to happen again he would take it on himself to destroy his ashes like he desperately wanted to so many times in the past. Failures have no reason to live, as a human or ghost.
“San Lang~!”
Hua Cheng squeezed his eye shut again and used to silk sheets still cocooning his body to cover his pointed ears. His subconscious is truly cruel in only the way he could ever be to himself. Conjuring up his god’s voice calling out for him so sweetly, so full of love while he lies here cold and alone is frankly the worst punishment he has ever put himself through.
“San Lang, I made breakfast.”
He pushed harder against his ears; hearing the voice of his love so close when he really is not sends Hua Cheng deeper into anguish. And even if he thought he could hear the door to their (his) room opening, it must be another nasty trick of his mind.
“San Lang!”
Urgency and concern dripped heavy from his god’s words. Even with the clattering of a tray being hastily set aside and the rapidly approaching footsteps and the scent of lavender and honey and something a little burnt that he would recognize anywhere echoed around his head, he could only curl further into himself. His senses are too attuned to his god by this point, his traitorous brain had a whole new selection of pain to choose from now; a whole new kind of torture that made him briefly wonder if indulging in this life he’s had for the last so many years was worth the agony it brought with it upon the end. Yes, he realized with no surprise, it was worth it and he would do the same over and over despite knowing the outcome.
“San Lang,” the bed creaked to signal the new added weight. “Oh Love, you’re okay.”
Warm hands gently pulled Hua Cheng’s face up and out of the tucked close to his chest position he had forced it into. The warmth of those rough yet soft hands enveloped and seeped into every crevice of Hua Cheng’s freezing body, warming him from the outside in.
“You’re alright, Beloved. I am right here. Gege is right here, and he is not going anywhere.”
The whispered words and honeyed gaze he’d been longing for pierced Hua Cheng’s heart, shattering his carefully crafted walls in only the way his god ever knew how to.
“Ge,” Hua Cheng quickly cleared his rough voice, needing to speak, and see, and feel before his horrid brain decided to stop the fantasy. “Gege-“ the word broke halfway with a new sob.
Xie Lian softly thumbed away the tears, his touch reverent and his gaze concerned. “I am right here, San Lang.” He promised, punctuating his words with feather-light kisses all over Hua Cheng’s face.
“Yo,you weren’t- I tho-I thought,” Hua Cheng broke off again with a hiccup, fresh tears streaming down his face and onto the pad of Xie Lian’s thumb as he wiped them away just as quickly as they fell.
Xie Lian could feel his heart break as the shattered words and glazed over eye combined into one deeply cutting attack. It’s not as though Xie Lian is unaware of how his husband feels about himself and how he thinks of their relationship sometimes, but he is also not a mind reader nor can he see the future. Knowing that leaving the bed alone in the morning would lead to this is just not possible. Hua Cheng has his good days that are so very good Xie Lian can often live in oblivious bliss, not thinking on his painful pasts or his partner’s; but he also has his bad days that sometimes will leave him unable to get up from their bed. Xie Lian has his own fair share of those days where pushing through feels impossible, so he would never be one to judge in any way, rather he pampers Hua Cheng on these days and comforts him in any way he needs at that time. He is also intimately aware of Hua Cheng’s fear of losing Xie Lian, he shares his own version of this fear, but they have never had an instance where leaving Hua Cheng by himself in bed in the morning has led to causing a downward spiral and kickstarting a bad day.
“I didn’t leave,” seeing the haze in his husband’s eye amplified the guilt that was twisting his gut. Hua Cheng was having trouble discerning reality from the torture his own mind puts him through. “I will not leave you. I’m right here, with you. This is real.” He carefully brushed strands of ink black hair from Hua Cheng’s face, peeling off the ones that had stuck to his skin from tears.
Hua Cheng didn’t deserve love or happiness, not really, but Xie Lian had always given it to him. Even if (when) he leaves one day, the truth will always remain that he had loved the ghost once because Xie Lian does not lie. He has never once given Hua Cheng any reason to doubt his words, and how could he ever doubt the words of his god? “You, you’re here?” His whole body felt like lead, but through great effort Hua Cheng reached up to thread his fingers through the other’s. The weight in his hand making him a bit more aware. “You’re here.” He repeated, more sure this time.
“I’m here.” Xie Lian confirmed with a soft kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose, his eyelid, and then the scarred skin over the hollowed socket where his right eye once was. “Are you?” He asked, his lips moving across Hua Cheng’s temple from where he had ended on the mission to kiss his whole face.
Hua Cheng swallowed hard, but nodded. There are sometimes, during his very bad days, that he is thrown into the past unable to really be in the present with Xie Lian. Being thrust into a flashback requires special attention to ease him out of it; Xie Lian had previously emphatically expressed the importance of figuring out early on if this is happening so that he can “prepare accordingly”. Hua Cheng thinks of this part of himself as painfully weak, disastrous even; if his mind is somewhere back when he was alone how can he protect Xie Lian now that he isn’t? His husband strongly disagrees with that sentiment of course.
Xie Lian smiled down at him, relief suddenly flooding his system, and backed up a bit to get into a more comfortable position. He was also now thinking if he should go grab the food now that Hua Cheng had calmed down some.
Hua Cheng’s eye blew wide open, terror seizing his heart and twisting his features as he watched Xie Lian move to leave. “Don’t go-!” He cried, a hand latching onto white robes in a death grip. He couldn’t even think hard enough to feel disgusted with himself for this blatant display of gross weakness and pathetic neediness, every thought in his head aimed towards not letting Xie Lian out of his sight. This is real, he has to believe this is real, but if he was left alone again the spiraling would only get exponentially worse.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian stopped moving and put his hand back into Hua Cheng’s hair. “I am not leaving you, I promise.” He assured him as he pet through inky hair. “I was trying to get into a better position to hold you.” He was internally kicking himself for not explaining his motives first before ever pulling away; Hua Cheng is in a very agitated state because of losing Xie Lian, how stupid is he to not think his actions through and how detrimental they could be in this moment?!
“Oh,” Hua Cheng’s gaze fell to the side.
Xie Lian gently pried cool fingers from the taut fabric of his robes, but clutched them back in his own hand instead of breaking contact. “Would you like that?” He sweetly kissed each knuckle, but his full attention was glued onto his husband’s face; if there were any sign of discomfort at all, even a quirk of an eyebrow, he would back off enough to alleviate that.
Hua Cheng’s head flew back up, making eye contact once again. “Yes!” His voice was rough and slightly out of breath when he said this, the sudden urgency to curl up in his god’s strong and safe arms as he had all those years ago making him dizzy.
“Then come here, my love.” Xie Lian lied back down on their bed with his arms outstretched, inviting, promising. Hua Cheng would have to be an absolute moron to say no to such an offer. So he didn’t. “I’m so proud of you,” Xie Lian muttered into soft hair once Hua Cheng was lying on his chest. “You are so strong.” Hua Cheng whimpered, a low and pathetic sound, at those words shaking his head. “Yes, you are. It is not easy to accept help and I am so very proud of you for accepting mine.” “Thank you for trusting me.” Sometimes the weight of Hua Cheng’s faith and devotion would feel somewhat crushing, but during these moments when he is being trusted even against the suffocating distrust of the world, these moments really prove to him that the faith Hua Cheng has in him is not based solely on the image of him as a young god freshly ascended, no stains on his pure reputation.
It was quiet for a moment, long enough for Xie Lian to wonder if Hua Cheng had fallen asleep, but that thought was quickly shut down.
“I apologize.”
Xie Lian lightly started at the sudden sound. “Whatever for, Love?” It’s not unusual for an apology to come out of a situation such as the one they had just had, but it still made Xie Lian’s heart clench every time. There was absolutely no reason for an apology of any kind.
“You,” Hua Cheng moved a bit so that he could look up through his hair to meet Xie Lian’s gaze. “You made breakfast.”
Xie Lian looked down at him with wide eyes. A beat passed and then he was shaking with silent laughter, wrapping his arms around Hua Cheng’s body to keep him securely on his chest. A light glare made him stop, with only light giggles escaping him now. “I’m sorry, San Lang, I don’t mean to laugh but,” he rubbed circles into the small of Hua Cheng’s back. “It wouldn’t be anything good. I wouldn’t force you to eat that right now.”
Hua Cheng propped himself up with his elbows, an indignant pout pulling his lips down. “Anything Gege makes is delicious.” He insisted with a huff.
He truly acts like a spoiled child when being cuddled no matter the circumstances that led to them. It is adorable, Xie Lian noted with a fond smile stretching across half of his face. “Alright, alright, we can eat later,” he flipped them onto their sides, pressing Hua Cheng back into his chest. “But sleep for now.”
Hua Cheng nodded minutely, wrapping his arms around Xie Lian’s torso. It’s felt like he hasn’t been this comfortable in ages, which isn’t too far off really. “I love you.” He whispered against the firm chest of his god, his beloved, his lover, and he meant it with a deep intensity that was all consuming. It is a simple fact of life: the sky is blue, grass is green, and Hua Cheng loves Xie Lian. He doesn’t know who he is without this basic fact filling him to the brim…
”I love you, too.” A warm kiss was pressed to the top of his head. A gentle promise right below the surface of those words.
…But he would not want to know anyway.