Work Text:
i can’t hide
(from the corners of my mind)
On the day Xie Lian wakes up and feels like he’s suffocating, it is raining.
He has gotten spoiled to easier days- days when he can come awake slowly in the arms of his husband, his sleep-warm skin growing even warmer under the gentle press of a cool mouth. There are days where, even if they are not easy, his nightmares bleeding into his waking hours and his hands refusing to leave Hua Cheng, he is easily soothed by his husband.
It has been a while since he has jerked into awareness with a weight in his lungs and his heart with the feeling of burning pain licking across his skin. When he awakens this way, it is typically with gasps and the phantom feeling of his body being pierced by swords. His breathing will choke in his throat, and he will feel like his throat has been sliced once more.
The first spring storm on Mount Taicang has him being pulled into awareness all at once, and his eyes barely flutter open before he clenches them shut once more, the flashes of lightning branding themselves against his eyelids.
On these days, everything that Xie Lian feels is pushed to the extreme. The weight of his hair, usually tolerable, is pulling at his scalp and he is hyper-aware of the knots that have tangled at the base of his skull. The fabric of his sleeping robes, though soft, are rubbing across his skin in a way that is mixing uncomfortably with the burn of his too-tight skin.
Even Hua Cheng’s arm slung low across his hips, usually a comfort, is too much.
With shaky fingers pressed to his neck in a weak attempt to reassure himself the skin has not been slit, Xie Lian forces himself to take in a few shaky breaths in an effort to lessen the weight in his lungs. He turns his head to the side just slightly where he knows Ruoye is curled around E-Ming’s hilt against the wall by the bed, and the first deep breath he manages comes at the feeling of Ruoye moving to wrap comfortingly around his chest.
As easily as he can, Xie Lian slides out from under his husband’s arm, keeping his eyes closed as he goes. He manages to swing his legs off the edge of the bed, but the motion triggers a roll of nausea that forces him to still, his knuckles white as he grips the sheets. Every clap of thunder outside has his body flinching, and he splits his own bottom lip with the force of which he’s biting it.
He stays sitting for a few moments, fighting to keep his breathing even, before he forces himself to his feet, his shaking hands pushing at his sleeping robe until it crumples to the floor; the cool air pebbles his skin, at his presses his toes firmly against the floor in an effort to ground himself.
Bringing one hand up to press to his chest over his heartbeat, pressing to where Ruoye is still wrapped snuggly around his ribs, and the silk moves to wrap around his wrist instead. He can feel the blood rushing through his body in the same way he can feel his spiritual energy flowing through his meridians, and he is almost sure that he is going to suffocate still from the weight in his lungs and the tightness of his skin.
He needs to steady his breathing, but he also needs to make himself as small as possible, and he finds himself stumbling forward with his eyes still clenched tightly shut, moving until he reaches a corner of their small cottage, crumbling down to sit. His hands find their way into his hair instead, and Ruoye doesn’t hesitate to move once more, gathering itself and Xie Lian’s hair into a bun atop his head. His breathing is catching on every intake, and he can feel the scratch of his nails against his own throat where they start to claw in rising panic.
He doesn’t register the sound of his husband shifting against the sheets, or the sound of feet hitting the floor and walking quickly towards him.
If he had, Xie Lian would’ve braced for the feeling of slim, cold fingers wrapping around his wrists to pull his hands away from his own neck.
Instead, the touch feels like a shock to his body, and he jerks away from those fingers, his own hands pressing to his chest as the tips of his own fingers dig into his skin. He drags his knees up to his chest tightly, keeping his arms tucked down as he presses his head back against the wall.
“Dianxia.”
The voice is low, and where it would normally be a comfort, the sound of his title right now makes him feel raw, and he flinches once more, his hands coming up to cover his ears as he shakes his head once.
He doesn’t want to be a prince right now. He doesn’t want to be a god. He doesn’t want to be-
There’s a soft clicking sound from where Hua Cheng swallows hard, and his hands are folded tightly into his own lap now. There's a tightness to his shoulders, his eye shining with worry where he’s still in front of Xie Lian on the floor.
“Beloved.”
The new address has Xie Lian slowly pulling his hands away from his ears, but he keeps one pressed to his chest instead, the fingers of that hand digging into the skin where he feels his heart is going to beat out of his chest. The other goes back to his neck, clawing once more at the skin there until it is broken, red blood trailing down and accompanied by a keen from deep in his chest.
Hua Cheng shifts slightly on his knees on the floor with a hurt noise, and he ducks his head down just enough so that his gaze can meet Xie Lian’s. The dark eye is full of worry, and he hesitates for a long moment before he raises one of his hands into sight of Xie Lian. He moves slowly, the tips of two fingers just barely brushing Xie Lian’s neck so the scratches there heal with a small pulse of spiritual power.
The warmth across his skin has Xie Lian flinching once more, but he does not pull away. He allows Hua Cheng to draw his hands away from his own skin, lacing their fingers together and resting them on the tops of Xie Lian’s bent knees. Hua Cheng doesn’t even wince when Xie Lian digs his fingers into the backs of his hands, simply shifting closer on his knees.
“Gege, you’re alright,” Hua Cheng leans down so he can press a chaste kiss to the other’s knuckles, closing his eye for a moment before he straightens up. “You are safe here. I swear.”
Xie Lian shakes his head before the other even stops talking, his shoulders trembling as he clenches his eyes shut once more. His skin is burning with the phantom feeling of a sword's edge slicing through it, and his throat feels tight as he struggles to take in deep breaths.
He isn’t safe here. He isn’t safe anywhere. Those who want to find him will always find him, his luck has proven that. He isn’t safe, he isn’t, he-
The spiral that his brain is taking stops abruptly at the feeling of cool lips pressing to the front of his throat, and his eyes are wide as they stare at the man in front of him. Hua Cheng pulls away from him slowly, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the back of Xie Lian’s hands.
Xie Lian’s eyes are focused on Hua Cheng’s mouth and the fact that when the other man had pulled away, there wasn’t blood coating his skin. He pulls a hand away, Hua Cheng letting him as soon as he feels resistance, and Hua Cheng forces himself still as Xie Lian brings a trembling hand up to press to his lips. He rubs them furiously for a moment before he draws away, his gaze flickering from Hua Cheng’s mouth to his own bare fingers.
Neither of them move for a moment- Hua Cheng taking in the sight of his god trembling in the corner, and the god in question looking from his own fingers to Hua Cheng’s mouth rapidly.
Xie Lian moves first, bringing the hand not gripping Hua Cheng’s up to his own throat and scrubbing furiously there until the skin turns pink; he draws the hand away slowly, his gaze moving over the fingers of his own hand and making a soft keening noise when there’s a lack of blood. He continues the motion over the rest of his body, a trembling hand scrubbing at a bloodless chest and thighs.
“Gege, you are alright,” the steady cadence of his husband’s voice has Xie Lian looking up at him suddenly, blinking a few times as the other continues. “You are safe here, with me. I will not allow anything to happen to you.”
Xie Lian realises that he believes him much like the way boats become overwhelmed in the sea- all at once and with shock. The feeling of belief crashes over him like a wave of cold water that shocks his senses back into the present, and he has to clench his eyes shut once more against the overwhelming stimulus now that he’s not stuck in his own mind.
He’s in the cottage he shares with his husband. He is safe here, both in this home and with Hua Cheng. It has been hundreds of years since his body has been mangled in the way his brain is trying to convince him it is currently.
It takes a few moments for him to open his eyes again, but once he does, he has to bring the hand not gripping Hua Cheng’s up to cover his own mouth to muffle the sob threatening to break through. He presses hard to his own mouth as his shoulders tremble, gripping tighter to Hua Cheng’s hands as tears slip down his cheeks.
“My love, is it alright if I hold you?”
Xie Lian can hear the slight tremble in his husband’s voice that he knows is present because of his need to protect, and he scrubs furiously at his eyes with the hand previously over his mouth before he scrambles forward, martial god grace gone in the wake of overwhelming emotion.
He’s gathered easily into Hua Cheng’s arms, settling in the cradle of his legs when his husband settles with crossed-legs on the floor, one of his hands moving to card through Xie Lian’s sweaty hair once he coaxes Ruoye back down to Xie Lian’s wrist as the other moves up and down his bare back. The coolness of Hua Cheng’s skin is a welcome contrast to his own, and he hides his face in his husband’s throat, nose pressed to where his (simulated) heartbeat rests and his arms come around to tangle fingers in dark hair.
The only thing he can bring himself to do is take in breaths to match the ones Hua Cheng is exaggerating, letting his brain focus on the feel of slim fingers moving steadily through his hair and the way Hua Cheng’s low baritone is humming above his head. Ever so often, he can feel the firm press of fingers into his spine as his husband helps to ground him; it’s this motion paired with being absolutely surrounded by Hua Cheng that has his body relaxing, limbs going loose in his hold and the tears finally coming to a stop.
“San Lang…” He can’t help but wince at how rough his voice sounds, and Xie Lian forces himself to swallow hard before he continues, the fingers in his husband’s hair tightening. “I’m sorry.”
His words instantly have Hua Cheng shaking his head, and Xie Lian can feel lips brush against the top of his head before the other man speaks. “Gege, there is nothing for you to apologise for.”
Xie Lian knows better than to argue with his husband at this point, so he just muffles his sigh in the side of Hua Cheng’s throat. He lingers there for a moment before he pulls away so he can see the other’s face- the small smile that Xie Lian knows is only for him is gracing Hua Cheng’s face, and he lets his eyes fall closed for a moment when Hua Cheng leans in to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Would gege allow me to bathe him? I feel like warm water would make you feel better, and I can wash your hair while we’re in the baths.”
Finally untangling one of his hands from Hua Cheng’s hair, Xie Lian raises that hand to his own hair and winces slightly when he feels that it’s damp with sweat. Now that he is fully back in his body, he can feel that clamminess that coats his own skin, and he rubs at his face with his free hand as he nods weakly.
“A bath sounds wonderful, San Lang.”
He doesn’t resist as Hua Cheng gathers him into his arms in a better position to carry him, one of his arms going under Xie Lian’s legs as the other goes around his back. Tucking his face into Hua Cheng’s neck once more, Xie Lian tightens the hold in his husband’s hair as the other grips tightly to his light sleeping robe.
In their progression to the bath near the back of the cottage, he can feel Ruoye untwine from his wrist slightly to brush against the part of it’s cheek that he can reach. Humming quietly to himself, Xie Lian brings the hand gripping Hua Cheng’s hair down to brush his thumb along where Ruoye is still curled tightly around his wrist.
He only knows that they’ve reached the baths when he feels the silk slide away from his wrist, and Xie Lian already knows that the spiritual weapon is going to wiggle itself under Hua Cheng’s robes instead, covering the death scar marring Hua Cheng’s chest and squeezing tightly. He startles slightly when his husband lowers him down into the water, but the hot water has him going boneless almost instantly.
Xie Lian tips his head back at the feeling of Hua Cheng once more carding fingers through his hair, and for the first time since he woke, a small smile graces his face when his husband covers his forehead with a hand so the water he pours from the cup to wet his scalp doesn’t get in his eyes. It is such a simple thing, but the gentleness in the gesture settles something in his bones.
He is safe here, and he will always be safe here. No matter what his mind decides to torment him with during the night in the nightmares he can’t control, there will always be someone there to help bring him back.
On the day Xie Lian learns how to breathe again, it is raining.