Work Text:
He Xuan was smelling blood. His senses were extremely sharp when it came to things that he could put in his mouth and… to be fair, that usually included 80% of everything around him. If he really put his mind to it, he probably could digest less digestible things like a table or a knee cushion, but alas, one always had to take into consideration nutritious value when it came to eating.
He Xuan liked to have something to gain out of this endeavor, be it a full stomach, or the resentful energy of a little water demon.
In this moment, however, he was smelling blood. It was not the savory kind, a pork steak cooked just enough for its aroma to seep through, nor the unpleasant waft of decomposing corpses. No, this smell was tangy and a little sharp, almost imperceptible in its shallow quality.
Shi Qingxuan was playing with the ghost's hair. He was tangling the strands around his fingers, then slowly picking them apart. He really liked the texture of He Xuan's hair, and the latter liked the small pressure the fingers would occasionally exert against his scalp. It was a win win situation. If the ghost also felt a little sleepy laying with his head in the other's lap, well, nobody could really blame him.
But the smell still lingered and He Xuan fought through the daze to piece the information together. Qingxuan's fingers brushed against his brow, collecting a wayward strand from his forehead and that's when He Xuan saw them. Little dark colored scabs, dotting the other's fingers around his nails, in a random pattern. Was Qingxuan a nail biter?
"He-xiong stay still, will you? I'm trying to braid your hair!"
He Xuan stopped his movement. He had unconsciously started to train his eyes on those fingers, twisting his head at an odd angle, following them around.
When He Xuan returned his head into its original position, Shi Qingxuan resumed his work, humming softly as he worked his way through the other's hair. As he approached the end of the braid, he extended a hand over He Xuan, asking for his discarded ribbon. He Xuan paused. The scabbed fingers were in front of his face again, and a drop of fresh blood was slowly forming on the side of the pinky. Was Shi Qingxuan nervous now? This was a tic the other sometimes had, but this was the first time the ghost had caught him in the act like this. He almost wanted to scold him, make a bad joke about getting blood in his hair, but really, he couldn't care less, so he refrained.
The ghost reached over and grabbed the yellow ribbon next to him and gave it to Shi Qingxuan. When he let go of the fabric, his fingers brushed over the wounded pinky, smudging the blood. Nobody acknowledged it. While the other started tying off the braid, He Xuan brought his finger to his nose. He sniffed the blood softly, then popped the blood stained finger into his mouth.
Sometime during this, Shi Qingxuan had aborted his movement. He Xuan looked up, nonplussed, finger still in mouth, to be greeted by a transfixed Qingxuan.
"He-xiong, what are you doing?" The ribbon was hanging loose, knot left uncompleted.
He Xuan took his finger out, looking lazily at it. "Mn. Cleaning my hand."
With a hmpf! Qingxuan took the cleaned hand in question and rubbed the end of his sleeve over the spit covered finger. "Don't do that, it's disgusting."
"You're not disgusting." He Xuan caught the hand in a reverse grip, holding eye contact. Shi Qingxuan tried to squirm out of the hold, but the ghost didn't budge.
"Look me in the eye and tell me you take it back." He saw the moment Qingxuan's eyes widened, the moment his breathing rhythm picked up. He felt the rapid pulse in the wrist he was gripping and narrowed his eyes. The hand was released, and Shi Qingxuan retracted it just as fast as his heart was beating.
This won't do, the ghost almost sighed out loud. He got up in a sitting position, facing the other.
"Why are you hiding from me?" he asked.
"I'm not hiding."
"Then can i take your hand?"
Qingxuan nodded and reluctantly gave his hand back. He Xuan took it as gently as he could, cradling it as if it were something precious. He knew Qingxuan had his insecurities, there were a lot of things still left to discuss between them, but they had time. And He Xuan was nothing if not patient.
He caressed the knuckles, then placed a soft kiss on them. Shi Qingxuan made a small sound in the back of his throat and He Xuan's lips quirked at the corners. He advanced, kissing the joints of each finger, making his way to each tip. By the time he had reached the pinky, Qingxuan had relaxed enough, his body less tense than before. He Xuan looked him in the eyes and kissed the tip of the pinky finger. Then his tongue darted out and licked. Shi Qingxuan tried to take his hand back again, but He Xuan thightened his hold. He wanted to get his point across.
After a moment, he drew his tongue back. Then, mimicking another kiss, his lips sealed themselves over the open wound, and sucked gently. A drop of salty blood trickled out and he hummed, giving the finger another placating lick before drawing his head back up.
"You are not disgusting. Not to me. Ever. Get it in that pretty head of yours." His tone was not acusatory but it was firm.
Shi Qingxuan nodded, soft blush powdering his cheeks.
"I- oh shoot I messed up your braid!" Qingxuan deftly changed the subject, acting like nothing had happened. The ghost allowed it.
Still a bit uncoordinated, Shi Qingxuan grabbed He Xuan's head and, a bit forcefully, yanked it - and the body it was attached to - back into his lap. He then took each of He Xuan's hands and placed them on his sides, mumbling something along the lines of keep these to yourself please - which made the ghost smile. As Qingxuan detangled the ruined braid and got to work again, He Xuan relaxed. He contemplated teasing Qingxuan again, but decided to let it be for now. The soft pressure on his scalp returned and with it the hazy feeling of safety. Of being held. Qingxuan's fingers might be scabbed over, but they were gentle and lovely and very precious to the ghost.
He couldn't wait to kiss them again.