Work Text:
"Oh, Huaisang, I know. I miss him too," Jin Guangyao said softly. "Let San-ge take care of you?"
Nie Huaisang sobbed into the sparks amid snow picked out in gold thread and remembered happier days: Meng Yao in Qinghe green and grey, braiding his hair and listening to him prattle on about gossip and art and why Da-ge really shouldn't nag him about his saber so much, and oh god Da-ge would never nag him again, and—
"Please," he begged, kissing Jin Guangyao's neck, face, whatever he could reach. Jin Guangyao held him close and hummed a familiar soothing tune…