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Xie Lian sat by their altar, staring up at the picture of them they’d painted together.
“What’s gege thinking about?” Hua Cheng leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“Nothing really.” Xie Lian smiled at him, and he was happy to see his husband, but Hua Cheng was better at reading him than he was at reading himself most days.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just one of those days, San Lang doesn’t have to worry.” Xie Lian leaned into his touch, as if losing it may hurt him.
Hua Cheng wouldn’t let it hurt him anyways, wrapping him up in a hug and looking up at the picture with him. “Does looking at our painting help?”
“Not…” Xie Lian sighed. “I just look so beautiful when San Lang paints me.”
“Gege is beautiful.”
Xie Lian nuzzled him, knowing arguing would get him nowhere.
“Does gege want to visit the caves and look at the murals again?”
Sometimes Xie Lian liked to. Liked to look at all the statues of the two of them and the murals of their incomplete life story. Liked to take in the slow progression of Hua Cheng’s artistic skill and all the love that was just as present in the first attempts as the later ones.
But today…
“No, I… not today.”
Hua Cheng kissed his cheek again. Then again. A bit playful and very gentle even with the loud smacking noise he was making. But it relaxed Xie Lian more and he knew that was what his husband had intended all along.
“The version of me in San Lang’s art… he’s so wonderful. Someone anyone would be proud to worship. But who wants to worship a god who can’t even take care of himself?” Xie Lian said wryly.
“That’s what gege has me for. I’ll take care of gege so gege can take care of everyone else.”
Xie Lian laughed a bit, nuzzling into him. “Sometimes I wish I could be one of San Lang’s art pieces. Then maybe I’d feel more… present on days like this.”
Hua Cheng kissed him again, nose nuzzling his cheek reassuringly. “Gege could be.”
“How’s that? Trap my soul in a statue?” Xie Lian joked.
But Hua Cheng shook his head. “This one could paint your highness, if he would allow it.”
“San Lang paints me all the time?”
“En. But not on your body.”
Xie Lian’s eyes flickered with understanding. “San Lang can do that?”
“Why not?”
“What would you paint?” His voice was quiet, like the question was difficult for him.
“What would gege like this one to paint?”
Xie Lian turned to meet his eye, that devoted gaze so open and reverent as it met his own. “Surprise me.”
***
It wasn’t as if Hua Cheng had never seen him naked before and Xie Lian really was long past being shy about such things, especially considering he’d never been overly concerned about it to begin with.
It was different now though. He could feel his husband’s gaze raking over every inch of him as he put up his hair to bare as much skin as possible. He wanted Hua Cheng to have every bit of available space he could give to paint on.
And it wasn’t as though Hua Cheng had never stared before. There were plenty of days where it was like Hua Cheng was seeing him for the first time again, desperate to memorize every dip and subtle curve of his body. Days where he looked like he was catching his first glimpse of heaven (though Xie Lian suspected Hua Cheng had not been half as interested in the sight), reverent and awe filled.
But today he stared at Xie Lian the way he stared at a block of stone before he shaped it. He stared with curiosity that was almost probing. He stared with determination and intense focus, as if Xie Lian was the only thing in the world.
He stared as if he were about to begin yet another trial to prove himself to a god who had already accepted him in every possible way.
“Can gege lie on his stomach to start?”
“En.” Xie Lian got settled, waiting patiently. It was… odd to do this. Not bad exactly, just different. He felt hyper aware of his husband’s every move as the paints were arranged and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to relax or keep his back tense or if it even mattered or— Xie Lian flinched.
“Gege?”
Cheeks burning, Xie Lian buried his face in the pillow Hua Cheng had laid out for him. It was just a paint brush! Xie Lian had experienced just about every way to die or be tortured and here he was jumping because of a paint brush.
Hua Cheng’s hand touched his back, firm and soothing. “Are you okay?”
Really. He could never stay cool around this man. “…It was cold.” He admitted. And wet, but it would sound even more absurd to point out paint was wet.
Hua Cheng didn’t laugh at him though, just patted his back. “Is this better?”
The wet brush still felt odd, every nerve in his back following the way it trailed in a cascade of gentle sensation, but it wasn’t cold anymore.
“En.”
“If there’s any other issues, feel free to speak up,” Hua Cheng readjusted himself, getting to work. “Just relax, your highness.”
At first Xie Lian wasn’t sure relaxing was possible. He’d already been so out of sorts all day and the feeling of the brush across his back was intense with his own overthinking. But the more the paint dried across his skin the more he found himself filling into his body just to feel the gentle prickle of the brush.
He hadn’t even realized how far out of himself he’d been drifting before. All his sensations so muted to escape his own mind, a defense mastered after centuries of hardships.
But there were no hardships in this room. Just his husband. Just his most devoted believer painting across his back in gentle strokes.
He was so overwhelmingly aware of every movement across his skin but it didn’t feel bad. It felt grounding. The slightly tacky feeling of the dried paint was proof of where the brush had been before. Like mapping out the boundaries of where he was real, that feeling reminded him of where he began. He still couldn’t tell where he ended, but he trusted his husband to help guide the way.
By the time his back was done Xie Lian felt more centered than he had in the midst of most meditations he’d done. He was aware of the little discomforts in his body, but it wasn’t bad. His arms were going numb from how he was laying on them. He felt a bit of an ache in his knees and lower back.
But mostly he felt grounded and safe, wrapped up in the space Hua Cheng created for him with every stroke of his brush on his back and beyond. The limits of where he began and ended followed the paint brush over the curve of his ass and down the pits of his knees.
“That tickles,” Xie Lian murmured as the brush trailed towards his inner thighs.
“Apologies, your highness, this one will be quick.”
Xie Lian nodded, he hadn’t really expected or wanted Hua Cheng to stop anyways.
“Would your highness sit up for me?” Hua Cheng asked a good while later, breaking Xie Lian out of the cool blankness of his thoughts.
“Not laying?”
“No, just a moment,” Hua Cheng patted his leg.
Xie Lian waited patiently, listening to the sounds of Hua Cheng fiddling with the paint behind him before he felt the deliberate press of lips to the back of his neck. Carefully, Hua Cheng moved around him, creating a perfect ring of kiss marks.
“Interesting technique,” Xie Lian teased.
“Now gege can lay down.” Hua Cheng smiled.
It was different facing him while he worked. Xie Lian had seen his husband create before. He loved it in fact. That focus. The thoughtful furrow of his brows. The sharpness in his gaze that was completely different from the sharpness he used with others but not quite the softness he used with Xie Lian. It was glorious to watch.
It was different when you were the canvas. Xie Lian was vaguely aware of the patterns actually being painted on him, they were as beautiful as everything his husband made, but much more enthralling was still the grounding drag of that brush. Much more breathtaking was that unwavering focus on creation.
Xie Lian had thought sometimes he would like if Hua Cheng had sculpted him because in Hua Cheng’s eyes he was always beautiful and godly. He had always thought of it in terms of how he’d end up when it all finished.
Never before had he considered how at ease he’d feel, directionless thoughts and energy firmly but gently pulled into place. Never before had he considered how special he’d feel, his husband’s thoughts filled only with him and the task of making him beautiful.
Which was silly. Hua Cheng always gave his full attention and always soothed and guided Xie Lian. Always thought he was beautiful. But it was different somehow. It was better.
“Would San Lang want to do this again sometime?”
Hua Cheng blinked up at him, as if waking up from his art induced trance, a loving smile blooming on his face. “We aren’t even finished with this one and gege already wants to do it again?”
“En,” Xie Lian reached out cup his face, warmth filling his chest at the way Hua Cheng leaned into it.
“It would be an honor.” Taking Xie Lian’s hand, Hua Cheng pressed a gentle kiss to it before laying it down again. “Your highness doesn’t have to worry about next time yet. Just relax for now. This one will show you how beautiful you are.”
Closing his eyes, Xie Lian nodded, feeling his husband settle back into his work again. No need to worry. No need to overthink. Just focus on the brush.
Just let Hua Cheng make him into something beautiful.