Work Text:
The last rays of the setting sun painted the water golden, as Baoxiang slipped out of his robe and into the soothingly hot spring. It was the final evening of the bathing expedition arranged to honor the Empress’ pregnancy, and Baoxiang had craved for one last soak.
He enjoyed the spacious bath tub at his quarters in Khanbaliq well enough – even if he could never completely shake off the memory of the Third Prince climbing in with him that one time – but it paled in comparison to the natural hot springs. The snowy scenery around him, the coldness of the air combined with the warmth of the water was nothing short of exquisite.
This particular spring was located a little further from the rest, a small, rocky path leading to it. It was getting late, so Baoxiang knew he would be able to enjoy bathing alone.
Savoring that short, sweet moment that verged on painful as his body acclimated to the hot water, Baoxiang took in the twilight mountain scenery that would soon be swallowed by the darkness.
He felt a powerful urge he had not felt for a long time, to capture that scenery with his paintbrush. For a moment he felt wistful for the false image he had painted with his words instead of a brush: that the Third Prince truly would have requested his company on this journey as his painting instructor.
The wistfulness soon passed. Baoxiang had pivoted his artistic passions to serve other pursuits. How well they had borne fruit already. He thought of his wife-to-be, and felt a churning in his stomach.
Not wanting to ruin the moment, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on the view that was slowly disappearing around him. The stars lighting up above, the pale orange and blue in the horizon bleeding into dark darker shades. The lantern he had brought with him illuminated the spring and the rocks around it with its warm halo.
All of it should have been beautiful, soothing his spirits. Yet he could not stop the darkness inside himself coiling into something heavy and restless.
Even as he finally started to feel his tense muscles giving in to the warmth enclosing him, the darkness slowly easing its grip on him, a sense of unrest remained.
Suddenly, he could sense a presence nearby. From the corner of his eye, just outside the lantern’s halo, Baoxiang saw a dark figure hovering, approaching.
In a single moment of frozen terror, Baoxiang was certain it was the ghost of Esen, arriving to torment him again.
But ghosts did not have footsteps that one could hear. And they certainly did not breathe audibly.
As Baoxiang turned to properly look at the figure, it was clear that the familiar silhouette in the dusk belonged to the Third Prince, not Esen at all. Baoxiang felt silly and childish, having let his imagination run wild like that.
As soon as their eyes met, the Prince put on a face of displeasure.
”I thought no one would be here,” he muttered at Baoxiang.
”This humble servant apologizes for the inconvenience,” Baoxiang replied, his exaggerated politeness coming off as the mockery it was intended as. He was still feeling prickly after letting his fears get the best of him, and for having his peaceful bathing time interrupted.
”If the Third Prince wishes to bathe in solitude, this subject will remove himself,” he continued as he stood up in provocation, the water splashing around him.
The Prince had witnessed Baoxiang naked numerous times by now, yet he still seemed a little flustered at the sight of his dripping-wet body. Just as Baoxiang had hoped.
”No need,” the Prince grunted, averting his gaze.
The familiar satisfaction from being able to toy with the Third Prince made Baoxiang feel buoyant and heavy at once, as he lowered himself in the water again.
At the edge of his vision, Baoxiang could make out the Prince getting undressed and stepping in the hot spring. He sat at the opposite end of the pool from Baoxiang, and the distance felt like a deliberate choice.
Dropping the overtly formal speech, Baoxiang addressed the Third Prince again.
”You invited me to come here with you, yet I have barely even seen you. Why bring me along at all?” he said, and surprised even himself with how real a lover’s lament he made it sound.
But Baoxiang knew that the Prince still preferred him bold and shameless, rather than faint and demure. So he added,
”Could you not stand to be away from me even for a few nights?”
It was still a gamble, saying things like this. For a fraction of a moment, Baoxiang wondered whether the emotion that was about to bloom on the Prince’s face would be one of enragement, or embarrassment. So often the two would go hand in hand, it was not always possible to separate them.
In the faint light, it was hard to make out the tell-tale flush that appeared on the Third Prince’s face. But Baoxiang had learned to look for the signs. There was no anger on his features, as The Prince turned his gaze down. The display made him look almost shy, and Baoxiang could feel some neglected part inside himself soar at the sight.
That shyness was soon replaced by a mask of bravado, as the Third Prince emboldened enough to meet Baoxiang’s gaze again.
”I need to have you where I can keep an eye on you,” he said, scoffing.
”How could I know what kind of mischief you might be causing otherwise?”
The Prince’s tone was smug and condemning, the image of Baoxiang as wanton and easily led by his lusts etched into his mind just as Baoxiang had intended.
”And what kind of mischief did the Third Prince have in mind?” Baoxiang asked.
To enhance his words, he leaned back against the edge of the basin, making sure to show off as much bare skin as he could.
The Prince made an effort not to stare. On his face, Baoxiang could once again make out that shy, flushed look. It made Baoxiang want to push even further, even though he was more than well enough acquainted with the dangers of pushing him too far.
Or maybe it was precisely because of that, Baoxiang thought grimly. The promise he had made to Lady Ki, of getting rid of the potential heir in the Empress’s womb, was still weighing heavily on his mind. The knowledge of what was waiting on the end of the path he had chosen felt as dark and as blistering as the flame of his mandate. It made other parts of him want to burn, too.
”Were you afraid I might find another man to warm my bed, while you were gone?” Baoxiang continued, his artificially high voice silky and smooth yet dripping with provocation.
He expexted the Prince to berate him, or to anger, or to claim Baoxiang as his. He had not been expecting him to turn his gaze down again, as the color on his face deepened, and mutter,
”You would not do that. Would you?”
It was what the Third Prince had accused Baoxiang of, expected it of him. Yet the moment he was faced with the actual possibility of it, he seemed to recoil.
Witnessing this reaction made something inside Baoxiang ache again.
Defective as the Third Prince was, he was still a prince of the Yuan. Someone the whole world was meant to show obeisance to, someone who never needed to make himself small. And still, he seemed so small, so young all of a sudden as he finally gazed into Baoxiang’s direction again.
With an abrupt clarity, Baoxiang understood how deeply and completely he had managed to capture the Prince’s heart. That glass heart, just as full of cruelty as it was of yearning. That glass heart whose shards would be sure to make Baoxiang bleed too, as he would finally, inevitably crush it with his own hands.
Baoxiang had always known it would happen. That it was only a matter of time. So why was thinking about it now making his breath catch in his throat, and all of his senses scream in alarm?
From the other side of the spring’s basin, the Third Prince was still looking at Baoxiang, the vulnerability on his face as bare as his body. Baoxiang was the one to turn his gaze down, this time.
Ever since Baoxiang had arrived to the court, he had only focused on playing his part, pretending to be something he was not. There had been no time to consider the condition of his own heart.
He had thought it nothing but a shriveled, hardened thing, charred and useless within his chest since the moment he had realized Esen was gone by Baoxiang’s own design. Yet something in that chest was now moving, attempting to choke Baoxiang in the process of coming alive.
It would not mean anything.
It could not mean anything. Baoxiang had already made his choice.
Still, he finally gave his answer to the Prince.
“I chose to come with you, did I not?”
There was a softening on the Third Prince’s face.
Before he could think, Baoxiang found himself moving in the water, slowly but surely approaching the Prince’s side. Even though the Third Prince had been reluctant being seen bathing with Baoxiang during their stay at the springs, he allowed him to approach now.
Here it was just the two of them. Their naked bodies in the darkness, with none of the oppressive stuffiness of the palace, the constant reminders of their roles. No witnesses to spread rumors behind their backs.
Settling next to the Prince, their bodies were so close they were almost touching.
If Baoxiang had leaned in, their lips would have met in a kiss.
They had only ever done that once before. Outside in the cold moonlight, when Baoxiang had called out the Third Prince’s true name, when he had briefly thought they could keep on giving and giving to each other, forever.
The Prince had been crying then, hurting.
He did not seem hurt now, as he looked through his long, dark lashes at Baoxiang.
It made Baoxiang wonder if they might be able to share even a fraction of that gentleness again, before the inevitable.
He moved his head just minutely, and his nose brushed against the Third Prince’s. Inhaling sharply at the surprise of the contact, the Prince stayed still. Waiting.
The moment they spent like that seemed to stretch into infinity. The Prince’s breath on Baoxiang’s skin, the warmth between them as sweet and as dizzying as the hot water of the spring.
A rivulet of sweat ran down Baoxiang’s temple, yet he dared not move to brush it off.
Somewhere within the darkness around them, there was a faint rustle of leaves, and a sound like footsteps on the stone.
It was enough to break the spell.
Abruptly, violently, the Prince pushed Baoxiang off of him. Losing his balance with nothing to hold on to, Baoxiang found himself completely submerged in the water. He had carefully kept his hair in a topknot to keep it from getting wet, but it had all been in vain.
“Stay away from me,” the Prince muttered in an attempt to preserve his masculinity and reputation. He had once stood up for Baoxiang in front of the whole imperial court, yet being seen like this was still too much.
But his performance turned out to be for the audience of none, as the lantern finally shed light on the sudden intruder: a rabbit.
A part of Baoxiang wished that they could have just laughed it off together. But the Prince had already been brought back to reality. The moment they’d almost had was gone.
Baoxiang had also started sobering from the frenzy he had gotten caught up in.
I wish I could, Baoxiang found himself thinking as a response to the Prince’s words, as he watched him stepping out of the hot spring and putting on his clothes.
The Prince disappeared as abruptly as he had arrived, leaving Baoxiang sopping wet and alone in the spring.
He chose to think only of the nuisance it would be to get his hair dry.
Thinking of the other things that had – and had not – happened during their short time bathing together would be much more perilous.