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Touch was a difficult thing, for them.
Most people would scoff and ask why. Touch was easy, they’d say – there’s nothing more natural than touch after all. You bump into someone while walking, get too close while fighting, embrace as friends or lovers, and touch just happens. It’s easy. What’s so special about touch?
Hua Cheng knew better, though. Touch doesn’t always come easy, especially not for beings as old and scarred as them.
Sometimes, not even with each other.
Xie Lian flinched at his touch and stiffened, and Hua Cheng jerked his hand away as if burned; he might as well have been, his beloved’s reaction searing through his veins like the blood he no longer had and bringing with it a self-loathing that fit around his shoulders like a well-worn robe.
He’d come to offer comfort to his husband and instead he’d made His Highness flinch. And who could blame him after how unsightly Hua Cheng had been yesterday?
What a worthless husband he was.
Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.
“Ah, sorry San Lang, you surprised me. I thought you were still…” His Highness turned around with a smile, but it faded when he saw Hua Cheng.
Worthless.
“San Lang?” His Highness asked softly, always so kind to him, even when he was hurting. And he was hurting, Hua Cheng could see it in the tightness of his shoulders and the weary look in his eyes that persisted even now. And still he found it in himself to put Hua Cheng first and discard his own discomfort as if it were nothing of importance. Hua Cheng hated it, he didn’t deserve it, he always failed– A warm touch to his cheek startled him and he flinched away, but His Highness followed, and Hua Cheng loathed himself for wanting to lean into his hand when His Highness had clearly been averse to being touched earlier. Hua Cheng didn’t ever want to be the reason His Highness forced himself to do anything. He should step away, he should–
His Highness sighed. “Oh San Lang, today is a bad day, isn’t it? And I made it worse, I’m so sorry.”
The distress on His Highness’ face made Hua Cheng feel even worse. He’d done this. He had caused His Highness pain. He had once again failed to protect His Highness from suffering.
It was even more of His Highness’ blood on his hands, metaphorical as it may be.
Worthless.
“His Highness needn’t apologise, this one is sorry for worrying him. It’s nothing gege has to be bothered by.” Hua Cheng smiled and took a respectful step back, away from His Highness’ outstretched hand, away from his touch. He didn’t feel like he deserved that luxury right now.
It hurt.
It tore at him; he wanted to step closer yet couldn’t bear the thought of forcing himself on His Highness. He wanted to burrow into His Highness’ warmth and soak it up like the first warm sun of spring, wanted to curl into His Highness and feel his hands run through Hua Cheng’s hair while he braided it and told Hua Cheng about his day if they had spent it apart or if they had spent it together, all the sights he’d seen, things he’d learned, people he’d met while drifting through China. Hua Cheng loved every moment together with His Highness, but those quiet moments of simply being together, of being cared for by his beloved in whatever way he deigned to, were among his favourites.
He cringed at his own desires, wishing he could bury them deep enough to never pain His Highness again but he couldn’t. He wanted.
What a greedy creature he was.
“San Lang…” His Highness took a step forward and made as if to touch Hua Cheng again, but hesitated when Hua Cheng couldn’t quite suppress his flinch. His Highness’ outstretched hand curled into a lose fist, then dropped in defeat. “San Lang, what do I do?”
He sounded helpless, unsure, and Hua Cheng hated that he was the reason for it. Desperate to reassure His Highness, he put on a smile he hoped didn’t betray any of his inner turmoil and shook his head. “His Highness needn’t do anything, this one is fine. But if Your Highness needs distance and doesn’t… doesn’t wish for me to touch him after yesterday, this one understands and will leave.”
“After yesterday…?” His Highness frowned, then his eyes widened. “Oh! San Lang, oh, no, that has nothing to do with anything. Please don’t think that.” Then, softer, “Stay. I always want to with me.”
Oh, how much Hua Cheng yearned to believe it, but how could he when he still thought he could feel the blood dripping off his claws?
Monster.
Look at those eyes! What a bad omen. Nothing good will come of him.
We should have killed him when he was born. Cursed!
What an ugly child.
Age-old memories threatened to drown him for a moment, voices he’d hoped to have forgotten by now threatening to draw him under. He found it harder than usual to ignore them. His fingers twitched but he clenched them into fists before he could give in to the aching need for comfort and reach out to His Highness like he’d gotten used to over the last years of their marriage. He turned his head away. “Gege shouldn’t have had to witness such an ugly display. It was excessive and dirty, I shouldn’t have–”
His Highness laughed, and Hua Cheng stopped in his track to listen to the divine sound. Most men would take offence at being laughed at, by their beloved no less, but to Hua Cheng it was the sweetest sound. Who cared if it was at his expense? “Oh, San Lang. Excessive, maybe – I don’t think that poor god even knew what he did wrong, he only ascended last week–”
“All the more reason to respect you,” Hua Cheng muttered, a flash of white-hot anger pushing aside his self-loathing for a second when he remembered that trash’s smug face as he hurled insults at His Highness and strut around like a fucking peacock during his first heavenly mission. He should’ve been grateful that His Highness had agreed to assist him on his mission!
His Highness huffed another laugh, but elected to ignore Hua Cheng’s complaint and continued, “–but after everything I’ve been through, what makes you think that would disturb me? Nothing you could ever do would make me think any less of you. And you’re definitely not dirty, don’t ever think that of yourself.”
“Gege, I tore out his heart with my hand.”
“Like we established, a little excessive perhaps,” His Highness allowed, “but nothing too bad. I hear there are already four different versions of what happened floating around in Heaven, but everyone is too terrified to ask me directly. I think they’re afraid they’ll offend me and you’ll tear out their hearts next or something. It’s all a bit funny, honestly.”
Hua Cheng mustered His Highness carefully, but he seemed to mean it. His smile was easier than it had been, and Hua Cheng knew, he knew that His Highness had seen worse, done worse, and did not flinch away from violence. That was not who he was, and while part of Hua Cheng still worried he was not good enough, and would probably worry for the rest of their shared eternity, he could at least believe this.
But if it was not Hua Cheng who’d made him tense, then what was? Something had made him flinch away from Hua Cheng, and the feeling of His Highness recoiling from his touch still burned like acid in his stomach, eating away at him like the real thing.
“If it’s not that, then what is it?” Hua Cheng asked softly, unable to bear not knowing any longer. “Gege left so early this morning and returned so late. I assumed you wished to avoid me, but if it’s not that…”
His Highness winced and grimaced, and Hua Cheng’s dead heart clenched. “Ah, I’m sorry it appeared that way. It’s nothing, truly. Ling Wen called this morning with an urgent mission that took longer than anticipated. It was a little exhausting so I didn’t notice your presence and startled. I’m sorry.”
“Gege, please stop apologising,” Hua Cheng said, pained. “None of this is your fault.”
Xie Lian’s eyes softened. “Neither is it yours, so don’t blame yourself.”
Hua Cheng hummed, not quite ready to let go of the blame completely but also not willing to disagree with his husband on this. For a moment he considered letting the matter go since Xie Lian seemed to be in a much better mood, but upon closer inspection, there was still something fragile about him, as if his pain was only hiding under a thin paper sheet. Hua Cheng hesitated, but in the end he decided to push.
“That’s not all that happened, is it?” he asked softly, keeping a close eye on Xie Lian’s reaction. “Even Yin Yu could tell you were not yourself when you returned home tonight. He said you seemed distracted.”
Only because Hua Cheng was watching so closely and knew Xie Lian so well did he notice the tension returning into Xie Lian’s body. It was brief, just a flash, but it was there. A moment later, Xie Lian smiled as if nothing was the matter at all. “Yin Yu did? I didn’t even notice him, I must have spaced out from exhaustion, ahaha. That’s probably what he saw.” He stepped past Hua Cheng and left the room, calling over his shoulder, “Are you hungry? I’ll cook us something. What are you in the mood for? I could do noodles, and I think we have some nice vegetables for a stir fry…”
Hua Cheng knew a distraction when he saw one, and this wasn’t a subtle one. There was something Xie Lian did not want to talk about, something bad enough that he didn’t even want to think about it. As Hua Cheng trailed after Xie Lian, helpless to do anything but listen to him talk about dinner and ingredients they may or may not have in their kitchen, the worry in his stomach solidified into rocks as he was left wondering.
What happened today?
His worries only intensified with dinner. While most people would still declare Xie Lian’s cooking as “the work of demons most foul” et cetera, it had improved after Xie Lian’s shackled luck didn’t guarantee the worst possible outcome anymore. His experimental nature still made every bite an explosion of tastes, but more often than not his food tended to at least look like what he’d been trying for.
The purple rock on Hua Cheng’s plate would like to disagree with that statement.
He poked it with his chopsticks and it rolled a few centimetres before coming to a stop again, looking as innocent as a crystallized ball of noodles could. Deciding that even he would have a hard time chewing this, he looked up at Xie Lian, who was staring at his own ball of solidified noodles and dejectedly nudged it around with his chopsticks. Xie Lian sighed. “I’m sorry San Lang, we can’t eat this. Let me try again, maybe a stew would be better anyway, it is quite cold outside…”
“Gege,” Hua Cheng interrupted softly and Xie Lian flinched, throwing him a guilty look but averting his eyes before Hua Cheng could catch his gaze. It felt like a stab straight through the heart but Hua Cheng ignored it. This wasn’t about him. He’d back off if Xie Lian refused him again, but he had to try one more time, even if he had to resort to pleading. “Talk to me.”
Xie Lian shook his head. “Ah, San Lang. It’s over and dealt with, telling you now would only upset you.”
“Not knowing upsets me more.”
Xie Lian was quiet for a moment, then he sighed and got up, holding out a hand for Hua Cheng to take. “Alright. Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m not hungry anyway.”
And Hua Cheng only ate because it pleased his husband, so he took Xie Lian’s hand and let himself be lead to their bedroom, worry gnawing at him all the while. If Xie Lian felt like he needed the comfort of their bed for this, something truly awful must have happened. One scenario worse than the other flashed through his mind and he didn’t even realize how tight his grip around Xia Lian’s hand got before his husband squeezed back. Feeling guilty, Hua Cheng relaxed his grip and caressed the back of Xie Lian’s hand with his thumb in apology and to offer a small amount of comfort. By the way Xie Lian squeezed his hand once more, the message had been received and Hua Cheng allowed himself a small smile.
Once they reached their room, they prepared for bed quietly and Hua Cheng pulled his husband into a hug as soon as they were under the covers. Xie Lian cuddled up close to him, head nestled under his chin and hands tracing patters over Hua Cheng’s back. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Xie Lian finally spoke up. When he did, his voice was barely more than a murmur.
“Ling Wen called me in this morning to deal with a demon that was running rampant in a region to the South. Feng Xin and Mu Qing were already busy with similar attacks in a different part of their territory, so I went alone to investigate. I thought… Well, you were busy, and I thought I could handle it alone. Besides… well.” Xie Lian laughed weakly and Hua Cheng’s heart clenched. He understood what wasn’t being said – no one had wanted to accompany Xie Lian because they’d been afraid to end like the conceited god yesterday.
His fault.
He hugged Xie Lian tighter, wishing he could turn back time and find a different solution to deal with that upstart, but he couldn’t. He could only deal with the aftermath now and offer comfort where he could. He felt Xie Lian’s breath hitch, but after a second to gather himself, he continued with his story. “It fled into a temple and I followed it, but it was a trap. There were… there were others. They had god-binding nets.”
Fury washes through Hua Cheng like a tidal wave, powerful and destructive. How dare they? Trash, all of them! How dare they lay hands on his god, bind him as if he were their prey? Hua Cheng felt like he was vibrating out of his skin with rage, and only his husbands calming hands on his back kept him grounded enough to stay in bed.
“Shh, San Lang, it’s fine. I’m alright, they couldn’t hold me for long.”
“Even a second is a second too long!” Hua Cheng took a deep breath to centre himself and push his anger aside. It didn’t quite work, its heat still simmering just below his skin, but it was enough to focus. “Gege, what did they do?”
“They… I tried fighting back, but the net suppressed my powers enough that they could pin me down on the altar for a moment and… it reminded me…” Xie Lian released a shuddering breath and clung even tighter to Hua Cheng. “It felt just like that time,” he whispered. “For a moment I felt so… so helpless again, and I thought he held me down again and… and then one of them pulled a sword and it was just like… Just like…”
“Shh, gege, you’re safe,” Hua Cheng whispered desperately when Xie Lian broke into sobs, hating himself for not having been there. It broke something inside of him to know his beloved had to relive that horrible night, and he hadn’t been able to do anything, again.
Screams of despair and pain ringing through the air until they choked off in a horrible gurgle and all that was left were yells of excitement and the sound of tearing flesh.
Blood flowing in scarlet rivers to the ground and pooling into scarlet lakes until the source ran dry and had nothing left to give.
Laughter, laughter, and his own desperate trashing against the monster holding him.
Empty eyes staring at nothing, only his body twitching whenever the sword stabbed down again betraying he was still alive, still conscious.
Down, down, down, down.
He was so useless. Worthless. What even was the point of him if he couldn’t protect his beloved from low-life demons? When he couldn’t even keep the trash away from his god?
“San Lang, it’s alright, I’m fine,” Xie Lian murmured, lifting a hand from his chest to his cheek to caress it, trying to soothe him, but all it achieved was make him feel even worse. He should be the one comforting His Highness, not the other way around. And yet Hua Cheng couldn’t find the words to offer comfort; all he could do was hug His Highness even tighter against his body and hope it was enough. His Highness seemed to misunderstand though because he kept talking, and oh Hua Cheng didn’t think he could hate himself any more, but in this moment he did. “They only stabbed me once before I freed myself and defeated them. Do you want to check? I’m already all healed up again!”
He wriggled as if to move away but Hua Cheng pulled him right back in and pressed his face into His Highness’ hair, breathing him in. Reassuring himself that his beloved was here, was alright, was breathing and warm and safe even if it wasn’t thanks to him.
Worthless.
“Your Highness, please don’t ever say something like that again,” Hua Cheng begged. “Don’t downplay your pain. It’s not alright. You’re not alright.”
His Highness’ grip on Hua Cheng’s robe tightened, then relaxed when he gave a shuddering exhale that Hua Cheng could feel against his throat. “You’re right,” he said quietly, “I’m not. I don’t think I can sleep tonight. But I’m better.” He lifted his head out of the crook of Hua Cheng’s neck until he could look him in the eye, and Hua Cheng was unable to look away from the sincerity of those beloved honey eyes. “San Lang, you make me feel better.”
“I couldn’t even do anything,” Hua Cheng protested weakly, but Xie Lian was already shaking his head before he’d even finished talking.
“You’re doing enough. You’re always doing enough. Far more than enough. Don’t ever think otherwise, San Lang, or I’ll get mad.”
Hua Cheng huffed a weak laugh. “Gege isn’t playing fair.”
Xie Lian smiled. “Of course I’m not. It’s the only way I can win against you.”
“Gege could win against me anytime he wanted to.”
“Hmm,” Xie Lian hummed, burrowing back into Hua Cheng’s neck. “I don’t always want to, though. And right now, all I want is to cuddle with my husband while he tells me a story.”
“Oh? Anything in particular you want to hear?”
“No, anything will do. Surprise me.”
Hua Cheng hummed while he thought about a suitable story. Nothing too dark or bloody, which ruled out a great deal of stories, and preferably something Xie Lian would find funny or at least distracting enough that he’d forget about his own pain for a while… “Do you know how He Xuan came into possession of his bone fish?”
Xie Lian did not, and so Hua Cheng talked while they lay entwined with each other. Neither of them slept that night, but Hua Cheng was relieved to see Xie Lian’s smile the next morning was genuine, and the weight of memories in his eyes wasn’t as heavy anymore.
Guilt and self-loathing still weighed on Hua Cheng though, and he couldn’t forgive himself for not being there no matter how much Xie Lian insisted it wasn’t his fault; Hua Cheng knew Xie Lian could sense it because while they were always affectionate with each other, Xie Lian paid extra attention to him these days, smothering him with kisses and praise until Hua Cheng almost thought he deserved them.
Almost believed that perhaps, he was worth them.
He wanted to be deserve them, wanted to be worth his god’s praise, his god’s love. He’d do better. He would not fail again. He refused.
And Hua Cheng was nothing if not a very stubborn, very greedy bastard.