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The layer of sweat that clung on Jing Yuan’s skin was like morning dew, cooling at the autumnal breeze that rustled the bright yellow ginkgo leaves on the trees above. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling, despite the frequent burning sensation the cold air left through his throat and chest every time it filled his lungs. Still, training in such a weather was far more agreeable than under the scorching heat of the summer’s sun, and for that alone he wouldn’t voice any complaints.
Nonetheless, he let a sigh tumble from his lips, a pleased one, however, as his golden irises glanced towards his companion, who then adjusted his posture as he deliberately let his weapon fall on the earthy ground. There was a long, albeit superficial cut that ran along Ren’s right arm; the crimson of his blood forming red paths above and around his alabaster skin.
“I’m sorry about that,” Jing Yuan said genuinely; an apologetic smile displaying on his lips. He had a bleeding wound on his right cheek himself, but was unbothered by it. “I should have been more careful.”
“Tsk, it’ll heal in no time.” Ren promptly scoffed in disregard, not displaying the minimal sign of discomfort. It was but a scratch.
“That’s not why I apologized.” Jing Yuan briefly averted his gaze. “I simply had no real intention of hurting you.”
“I know, and it doesn’t matter,” Ren retorted, saying so as a-matter-of–fact. Sometimes he could not believe the man’s apparent soft-heartedness, even if he did not dislike it. “It’s simply part of the risks, as you’re well aware.”
Ren, for one, was far more pragmatic. Which was not to say that Jing Yuan did not possess the self-same quality to an extent, but his judgment was occasionally clouded by sentiment. Nevertheless, a part of him admired that in him, for he seemed to always, or at least often, succeed in every endeavor he put his mind into. If it was in spite of or because of such a trait, he couldn’t really tell.
Then again, the Jing Yuan he knew and the Jing Yuan who sparred with him were almost different people; his focus in battle was unparalleled, envied. His kindness and elegance in his daily life were admired, desired; the two sides of him that seemed to be like oil and water functioned in perfect harmony within him.
Ren was almost jealous of it, of him.
“We still should patch your arm up. I don’t need to remind you how Jingliu will react in the case you get an infection for something so insignificant, especially if it leads to absences from training on your part.”
Jing Yuan’s sudden remark gained his attention back from his reveries, and before he could refuse his proposal, the silver-haired man was already grabbing him by his non-injured arm, dragging him along despite the complaints he uttered and the attempts he made to yank off his wrist from his grip.
“There’s a river nearby where we can cleanse your wound. I have some bandages with me, so it should be fine.” Jing Yuan had a little pleased smile on his lips as he said so, continuing to lead Ren by the arm regardless of his previous protest; he had one of those expressions that bothered the raven-haired man greatly, for he could never guess what Jing Yuan was really thinking.
And Ren was particularly skilled at observing others, assuming their intent. Jing Yuan was the same in that aspect, but he always kept all the cards to himself. Thus, deciphering his smiles, in particular, was something that Ren had not been successful just yet – and sometimes he wondered if he ever would.
“Hmm? Why are you staring so intently at me, Ren?” Jing Yuan’s lips curved curiously in a smile.
They were close, given he still hadn’t let go of Ren’s arm. The sudden realization, however, made him tug his arm out from the grasp of Jing Yuan’s fingers, offering him a pointed glare before he began to walk in front of him. “I wasn’t.”
The brusqueness in the gesture startled the other, but his bewilderment was soon replaced by an amused expression as he now followed Ren’s lead, walking in calm steps just behind his silhouette.
“As you say,” Jing Yuan murmured softly to himself.
The pleasant sound of the water current soon filled their ears, the air becoming a tad more cooler and humid as they approached it.
Jing Yuan took the opportunity to rinse his face once they reached the river, almost wishing for the warmth of summer now just so he could take a dip in the crystalline water. Nothing prevented him from doing so regardless of the temperature, but piercing, frigid water was not something he was very fond of.
He caught sight of his companion wiping his arm with the corner of his eyes, though, and smiled a little to himself. His stubbornness aside, he did follow his advice in the end.
“Let me help.” Jing Yuan’s voice was gentle, and he sat on the ground by Ren’s side, retrieving a clean handkerchief and a small roll of bandage from his pocket.
“No need,” Ren replied curtly without much of a glance, continuing to scoop water from the river and letting it drip above the cut. The blood was all but dry now.
Jing Yuan, however, paid no mind to his rejection, and proceeded to take hold of his wounded limb by his wrist with a firm grip that took the raven-haired man considerably off guard, enough to make him forget to cuss at him for it or simply tell him off. It was evident he was being mindful not to touch where the skin was the most sensitive, however, and there was no needless strength in his hold.
“You don’t have to do everything alone, you know?” Jing Yuan said, his golden gaze focused on the task at hand; his free hand dried the wound with the aid of the red cloth he held, giving slow and careful pats on the skin to dry both the injury and the area around it. “I enjoy thinking of us as friends over simply comrades, albeit I understand it might not be the case for you.” His scintillant eyes peered up through the silky curtain of his silver hair to look at the other, briefly so, as he returned his attention to Ren’s arm.
Ren did not quite know how to respond. His main interest had always been to hone himself and his skills, the rest was inconsequential. He was not indifferent to Jing Yuan, however, that much he was well aware of. His behavior could be unnerving, mostly with how he seemed to pester him with trivial matters – such as this one now –, but what he truly could not stand was how it made him feel at times; the warmth that seemed to accumulate and spread on his chest every time he dared touch him. That was infuriating.
“Well, knowing you, I would assume you’ve never even considered it. Have you?” Jing Yuan’s smile widened, but there was something different about it. Something Ren failed to pinpoint. A hint of sadness, was it? Disappointment?
“… I don’t dwell in sentimentalism, as you might also know,” Ren responded at last, his red eyes displaying a mild intrigue as they watched Jing Yuan skillfully roll the bandage around his arm. He might as well have become a healer of sorts with such deftness in his hands. “... But I do not dislike you or your presence.”
“That’s reassuring,” Jing Yuan chuckled softly in genuine amusement. His eyes glinted briefly as they met Ren’s. “It would be odd to allow someone you detest to tend to your wound, which, speaking of it, should be properly patched now.”
“… Unnecessary.” He gave his wrapped arm a long glance; there was a faint appreciation in his eyes, as well as a glint of confusion.
The silver-haired man smiled lightly nonetheless, and soon stood up as if to prepare to leave, but Ren did not follow; glancing down at him, Jing Yuan noticed that he seemed to be lost in thought.
“... I don’t understand,” he voiced suddenly, his crimson eyes staring at nowhere in particular. His dark brows furrowed. “... I cannot understand why you bother.”
“Hm? What about?”
“About matters that do not concern you. What is there for you to gain?” His piercing gaze shifted to glare inquisitively at Jing Yuan as he got up; it was as if he could find the answer somewhere in his expression, in his eyes, anywhere. He could not.
“Why should I gain anything from it?” Jing Yuan wasn’t expecting such an outburst, but his response was as calm as ever, and he did not shy away from Ren’s eyes. “Not everything has to be about winning. If we make life a battlefield, that’s a choice, not a fact. And that’s not my choice. Not now.”
“That doesn't answer my question and you know it,” Ren scoffed and glanced elsewhere, his thoughts racing in his mind. With a brief glare towards Jing Yuan, he turned around as if to quit his presence, but the other had been faster at halting his steps.
“Wait, Ren–,” his silver brows furrowed softly above his eyes in a gentle plea, his fingers around his companion’s wrist sliding down his hand. It was an unthought, distracted gesture, one that made him retract immediately, but also one that successfully stopped Ren in his tracks.
“–Forget about it.” Ren’s voice was punctual; devoid of hostility but equally devoid of warmth.
Dark clouds on the sky above concealed the sun and it’s light, enshrouding the grove they were in in considerable darkness. Neither of them had noticed it, or even minded it; that or the strong gust of wind that followed it.
Jing Yuan sighed; his silver locks danced erratically with the unexpected change in the weather. Logically, it wasn’t difficult to offer Ren the response he required, but then why did it feel like the words were stuck in his throat? Like shards of glass, he felt like they would have to cut their way through to his mouth should he voice them to the winds.
“I have no ulterior motive,” his voice was quiet, his face displaying rather distinctly the conflict that came from within. Never before Ren could have read his expressions so clearly as he did now, with a vulnerability glimmering in the golden pool of his eyes that caught Ren by surprise. “I enjoy your company. Thus, I care for your well-being. Is it truly such an unusual concept to grasp?”
Ren’s gaze was focused on him from over his shoulder, but his last sentence not only made him skeptical but it also flared that familiar yet uncomfortable sensation up inside his chest once again. He despised it, that warmth.
“You are not lying,” he stated; he would know otherwise. “And yet, I find that concept difficult to believe.”
“I do not need you to believe in it,” Jing Yuan sighed, his words sounding far more bitter than he would have wanted them to. Such a lack of composure was fairly unbecoming of him. Seldom he would be seen allowing his emotions to get the best of him in such an apparent way. “But you desired to know, did you not? Do with that information what you will, I have answered your question.”
“Mhm,” Ren muttered in agreement. He had no further remarks to make; albeit he could not comprehend it, the fact that Jing Yuan had indeed responded to his inquiry stood. However, he was not appeased, and for that, he could not let it go; it had not been enough. It lacked substantiality, it wasn’t palpable.
That to say, yes, it made sense in his head. But it did not make sense anywhere else. Not to him.
“… Nonetheless, we should head back,” Jing Yuan said after a long, loud exhale. “It seems that there is a storm approaching and we might not have enough time to—” The abrupt grip on his arm and pull that followed made Jing Yuan trail off his sentence. His features displayed visible confusion as his back was roughly pressed against the large trunk of a tree. “Wh–”
“I need a visual example,” Ren demanded, cutting him off once again. His face was far too close to Jing Yuan’s, his breath tickled the skin of his cheek. His wrist laid immobile under the firm grasp of Ren’s callused fingers around it, pinning it on the wooden surface behind. “… I want to… understand it. But words without actions to give them form are like dust in the wind to me. They mean nothing.”
“…” Jing Yuan’s golden eyes widened in a daze with Ren’s words echoing in his mind like a broken record sung in a foreign tongue. The gale blew stronger, filling the silence that momentarily made itself present between them. “… My insistence in caring after your wounds was not enough?” His lips curved into a bitter smile.
“No, that is the consequence.” His pair of red eyes pinned Jing Yuan in place, cornering him far more efficiently than his body or fingers did. “What I require is the meaning behind the cause. Why do you enjoy my company?”
“… I said too much,” Jing Yuan muttered with a sigh. He had briefly shut his eyes, leaning his head back against the uneven surface behind, complacent. This situation was bringing certain feelings that he had long denied and concealed to the surface, and he was not sure he could deal with them appropriately in his current predicament. “I am afraid I cannot give you a satisfactory answer since I don’t really know it myself.”
“I didn’t ask for one. I told you to show me.”
Jing Yuan sighed in mild frustration. There was no way to wiggle himself out of it, was there?
“…And then? What do you intend to do once I have shown you?” Jing Yuan’s countenance displayed a seriousness that Ren was not used to seeing on him outside of their training or the battlefield. It sparked his curiosity even further.
“… I cannot know,” he admitted. “... But I respect you enough not to question your methods.”
Jing Yuan smiled, even if he could not shake off the pang of wariness he felt at that moment. Although he had a far better understanding of his feelings than Ren did of his own, it did not mean he allowed himself to feel anything freely, let alone when he knew that if there was any damage done, it would likely be irreversible.
And when it came to the matters of the heart, Jing Yuan was hardly a warrior, no; he was a bit of a coward like everyone else.
“… Alright,” he finally agreed, once again against his better judgment.
For the first time other than amidst a battle, Ren felt a burst of adrenaline tingling and numbing his fingertips. His curiosity was at its peak as he observed Jing Yuan intently, with his heart pounding a tad faster in anticipation.
Jing Yuan’s actions, however, were more composed than Ren expected, and when he slowly leaned his face closer to his, decreasing the distance between them, Ren displayed no particular reaction. Yet, when his mouth pressed on his, almost hesitantly, he felt a spark where their lips met, and his fingers contracted faintly around Jing Yuan’s wrist. He sensed that bothersome heat in his chest becoming stronger then; this time, though, he realized it was also caused by Jing Yuan’s hand that grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tugging at it, pulling him forward into the kiss.
He felt Jing Yuan’s scent more keenly than ever, the perfume of jasmine filling his nostrils at every breath. His taste on his lips was faint, but it lingered even as the other drew away, taking the gentle warmth that emanated from his face along with him. It had been brief, far too brief, but enough to kindle an unfamiliar yet not unwelcome feeling within his chest.
“… I do hope you are satisfied.” Jing Yuan voiced after clearing his throat, the embarrassment visible on his flushed cheeks and on his gaze. He could not believe himself or his own actions, but the deed was done. Whatever consequence followed it, he had no choice but to accept it.
Ren’s lips, in turn, curved into a crooked smile, his red eyes lidded. “No. Not in the slightest.”
He, however, did not give the other time to mull over the meaning of his words. Instead, he halted any attempt of retort by sealing his lips with his in a far more urgent manner than the previous one, brushing his tongue above the plush of Jing Yuan’s lips as he held him tighter against the tree behind, grasping around his wrist to pin it above his head along with the other.
He had swiftly arrived to the conclusion that he had no desire to ponder over the reason why he felt the way he did when Jing Yuan pressed his mouth on his. It would change nothing, for his thoughts were always better translated into actions than words, and since Jing Yuan had shown him what he meant, it was only fair he returned the favor – but in his own way.
Jing Yuan, on the other hand, was left with very little room to react in any way other than surrendering to the eagerness with which Ren kissed him; a surprise that, why, left him utterly baffled and pleased at the same time and in equal proportion – why, perhaps a tad more pleased than baffled, in fact.
The way Ren’s lips moved against his, the way he explored the inside of his mouth, entangling their tongues together made him shudder. Had he thought about it before, about kissing him? Most certainly, at least a few times. Had he ever believed such a thing would ever happen in reality? No, not quite. The sensation was indescribable, and he feared both sounding like an enamored teenager and not making it justice should he attempt to put it into words.
Ren let out a small exhale against Jing Yuan’s moist lips as they slowly parted from each other; his fingers gradually loosening their grip around his wrists. His face remained close, and their eyes met; with nothing but the sounds of the gale and the downpour that began without warning to fill the silence hovering between them. The rain was cold, and the tree they had found themselves beneath served as a very poor shelter to shield them from the thick droplets of water that dripped like a torrent.
They were both drenched from head to toe in a matter of a few seconds, yet, not unlike before, their surroundings hardly seemed to be of importance to either of them. It was like something apart, something that had no place in between their reality now.
It was only the two of them and nothing else.
“… I have to admit I did not expect that,” Jing Yuan was the first to break the silence, his remark being softly muffled by the watery sound of the rainfall. He had a little smile on his lips; one that could be rightfully deemed as bashful, if one was attentive enough.
“… I felt the need to return the gesture.”
Jing Yuan let out an airy laugh. “Do you think that if I asked why, you would be able to offer me a genuine answer?” His smile widened discreetly, teasingly so.
“No.” He let out an amused exhale of his own. A rare sight.
“Oh, well… Perhaps future attempts might be re— Mmph!” Ren knew what Jing Yuan was getting at, thus he took a shortcut. He kissed him again, slowly this time around, delighting himself with his flavor mixed with the taste of rain on his lips, his hands holding him in place by the curves of his waist.
Jing Yuan did not fight it; he simply smiled against Ren’s mouth, responding to the gesture with equal intensity while his arms found rest around his broad shoulders and neck; fingers toying with his drenched raven locks absentmindedly.
Ren had found the answer, however, one that should have been obvious to him from the start; sometimes things just were. And there were distinct manners to appreciate them that way, just as he happened to allow that uncomfortable heat in his chest burst into a newfound feeling, one that now he could not get enough of, one that he could drown himself in every time his lips touched Jing Yuan’s. What was the reason behind said feeling? He did not know. And more importantly– he did not care.
He knew what – who – he wanted now, it would suffice. He knew it – he – wanted him back, it was more than enough.
For now, at least, it was.