Work Text:
Xie Lian can never remember if it’s the pink flowered cactus or red flowered cactus that he shouldn’t eat. Not that it really matters, his luck means that he’ll manage to find the one poisonous example of a usually safe species. He also isn’t sure if the cactus has anything to do with what’s happening right now. He’s been stranded in the desert for a... while. It’s unclear how long, but long enough for his thirst to disappear despite not having had anything to drink. After enough time, it’s like his body just gives up, the way it has for pain. Currently, he’s laying face down on the hot sand. Why? Well, he can’t seem to tell up from down and therefore can’t manage to stay on his feet. The last time this happened, he was stuck dehydrating into jerky for several weeks before a storm soaked him and he managed to suck the water out of his clothes during a brief bout of consciousness between deaths. That was enough for him scamper off, going on to die in a new and exciting way.
But this doesn’t feel quite like that. Maybe the cactus was bad, even if it gave him just a little moisture as he ripped into the fruit with his teeth, heedless of the thorns. Maybe it wasn’t worth it. He can’t remember what it felt like the last time he was cactus poisoned, but he knows dehydration like an old friend. The world is still spinning as he tries to crawl forward on his belly like a worm. Cactus or not, he will die of dehydration if he doesn’t get moving.
There’s a shimmer on the horizon, probably a mirage, but it’s as good a direction as any for him to head towards. Is that... a person? Tall, silhouetted by the sun at their back, makes it look like they’re dressed in black. Now he remembers. The cactus didn’t kill him last time, but-
“Ah,” He sighs, “It’s been a while since I last saw you, my Wu Ming.”
-it gave him rather vivid hallucinations. The figure starts running towards him, and yes that certainly is what he remembers Wu Ming looking like. He drops to his knees beside Xie Lian, hands nervously extended like he wants to help but of course he can’t touch. He’s not real.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Wu Ming asks, leaning forward as if to block the sun from his already burnt face.
“I’m fine, my Wu Ming,” He sighs, still laying in the sand, “I just ate some bad cactus.”
“Bad cactus?”
“Mm, there are two that look similar, but one is safe and the other causes wild hallucinations. Seeing that you’re here, I must’ve eaten the latter.”
At this, Wu Ming stiffens. He puts one hand on Xie Lian’s shoulder, and Xie Lian tracks the movement. He... can feel it. How odd.
“Would Your Highness allow me to help?”
“Of course, my Wu Ming, that is what you did best.”
After a prolonged pause, he asks, “May I take Your Highness to my residence? It would be best to get out of the sun.”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
So what if he’ll wake up right back here, alone, in a few hours when the cactus runs its course? If he can hallucinate Wu Ming’s hand on his shoulder, who’s to say he can’t dream up a house and some shade?
“Can you stand, Your Highness?”
“Hmm-” Xie Lian tries, only to fall right back down- “No.”
“May I carry you?”
Xie Lian nods and is scooped up off the ground into a bridal hold. Then, everything twists and glows silver, and then they’re inside. In a bathing chamber, it seems, as Xie Lian is gently carried into a pool of wonderfully cool water. Both of them are still fully clothed.
“I’m sorry about your robes, Your Highness. I will provide a suitable replacement.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve done far worse to them before.”
“Is the water cool enough? Not too cold? I apologize if you usually prefer a warm bath, but we need to get you cooled down.” And oh, he sounds so genuinely concerned about that, as if Xie Lian hasn’t been mostly just dunking himself in streams for the past few hundred years, as if this isn’t the nicest bath he’s seen since his time as a prince.
“It’s perfect, my Wu Ming, thank you.”
“Of course, Your Highness. Is there anything else you would like?”
“Something to drink, if it’s not any trouble,” He pauses, gazing longingly at the water of the bath, “I could also just drink this, I suppose.”
“No trouble at all, Your Highness.”
A little flock of butterflies enter the bathing chamber, carrying a full pitcher and cup. Fascinating, beautiful little things. Xie Lian had not expected his subconscious to cook up something this detailed and fantastical. They set everything at the edge of the bath, even pouring a cup of water and bringing it to him! Then, they all vanish like they were never there. Xie Lian sips his water, nice and cool and refreshing on his parched throat.
Wu Ming still hasn’t let go of him, seemingly concerned that he’ll drown if left to his own devices. Xie Lian can’t exactly blame him; he himself isn’t convinced that he won’t, he just cares less. Eventually, Wu Ming helps him out of the water, hoisting him to sit on the edge of the pool, catching him when he immediately pitches forward again.
“Are you still dizzy, Your Highness?”
“Yes, it usually takes more water and time to feel normal.” And none of this is real, so who knows when or if he’ll stop feeling dizzy in a hallucination.
“Your Highness...” Wu Ming trails off, seemingly unnerved by something Xie Lian said, “Your Highness, how does this sound: we get you out of the bath, into some dry clothes, then to the dining hall for a meal?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Then that’s what we will do. Here, please have another cup of water, Your Highness. You just hold on to that, I will take care of getting you dried off.”
“Thank you. You’re always so good to me, my Wu Ming. I wonder how long the cactus dream will last this time. I hope it lasts a little longer; I don’t want to say goodbye just yet.”
Wu Ming’s fingers spasm on Xie Lian’s back as he’s gently lifted out of the water and carried out of the room. The bedroom he’s brought to is as gorgeous and luxurious as the bath. Usually, his fake reunions with Wu Ming take place somewhere much more normal. It’s joy enough to see him again, Xie Lian doesn’t need all this finery. He’s placed on the bed still sopping wet.
“Ah, but your nice bed!” He protests and tries to stand, “I shouldn’t-”
“Please, just sit and relax, Your Highness. I do not want you to fall. The bed can be replaced, you can’t be.”
And so Xie Lian plops back down, no idea what to say to something like that, something so earnest. He sips some more water while Wu Ming pulls a set of clean robes out of the wardrobe. The new set looks a lot like what he’s wearing now, but less threadbare. Wu Ming brings him a towel next, soft and fluffy as it’s wrapped around his hair. His robes are still soaked through, and Wu Ming seems hesitant to have him undress. He fiddles with the clean set, looking between them and Xie Lian as he has some sort of fierce internal debate.
“Your Highness, would you like help changing clothes? I don’t want to- to intrude on your boundaries, but I don’t want you to have to stay in your wet clothes, and you don’t seem well enough to change on your own yet.”
“Mm, I’m probably not. You can help, my Wu Ming. Thank you very much for doing all this for me.”
“No need to thank me, Your Highness.”
With that, Wu Ming deftly and clinically strips Xie Lian then redresses him. It’s sweet how careful he is, kind of adorable, even. Xie Lian reaches out and gently pats the top of his head, a gesture he’s done so many times in these dreams. This time though, Wu Ming flinches before utterly melting under his hand. Usually he’s much more stoic. Totally adorable.
“Would you like to eat something now, Your Highness?” His voice trembles, just a smidge.
“Food would be lovely. Thank you, my Wu Ming.”
Given how real this hallucination has felt so far, maybe he’ll even get to feel full for a while. With his luck, though, that seems unlikely. He is again carried to the dining hall, settled comfortably in Wu Ming’s arms and very nice clothes. There’s a veritable feast already laid out on the center table, and Wu Ming sits at his side to help keep him upright. He serves Xie Lian a full plate, full enough that he isn’t sure he’ll be able to finish. It’s been days at least since he’s eaten anything, with the exception of a single cactus fruit. Of course he’s hungry, but his stomach won’t be able to tolerate it if he gorges himself. Sometimes though, he can’t help it, and eats until he’s almost sick. With this much available, he can feel that urge creeping up on him. It’s so rare for him to even see a spread like this, let alone be allowed to partake in it.
“Eat as much or as little as you’d like, Your Highness.”
That simple statement breaks the dam. None of this is real anyway, none of it will really fill his stomach, but it all tastes so good. He wolfs down the entire plate and a small cake for dessert, feeling very full by the time he’s done. It’s a little embarrassing to have forgone his manners like that in front of an audience, even an audience consisting only of his hallucination of a dead ghost.
Leaning back with a huff, his eyelids start to droop. Real or not, a good meal like that is making him sleepy. Or maybe it’s time for the dream to end. He fights the growing pull of exhaustion, even when Wu Ming picks him up and carries him back to the bedroom. Wu Ming lays him almost tenderly on the clean, dry sheets. What a wonderful dream this is, the lack of continuity working in his favor for once.
“You should try to rest, Your Highness. I’m sure you must be tired.” Wu Ming says softly, tucking him in under the covers and taking a seat in a chair beside the bed.
“Mm, but if I sleep the dream ends. I don’t want to leave you, my Wu Ming.”
“If I may ask, what would you do if you were still here when you woke up, Your Highness?”
“If it was real, you mean? You’ve never asked that before.”
“Please forgive my prying, Your Highness.”
“Don’t worry, my Wu Ming, you aren’t prying,” Xie Lian has to pause to yawn, “I suppose I would do the same things I’m doing now, and tell you how much I missed you. That I’m sorry. That I love you.”
Wu Ming makes a strangled sound, and by the time he’s able to speak, Xie Lian is sound asleep.
---
When he next wakes, Xie Lian is very comfortable and very, very confused. He’s not in the desert. He’s in a bed, in nice new robes, in Wu Ming’s house-
Bolting upright and swinging his legs out of bed, Xie Lian attempts to get up. He’s thwarted by his own lingering dehydration, the sudden change in position making him horribly dizzy. His vision blurs and he can’t even look around the room for evidence of his Wu Ming or where he might’ve gone. Collapsed back in bed, he settles for the next best thing: yelling.
“My Wu Ming, where are you? Please come back!” He begs, sounding pathetic even to his own ears.
“I’m here, Your Highness, I’m right here,” Wu Ming says gently, voice coming from directly next to the bed, as if he stayed in that chair all night, just waiting for Xie Lian to wake. Taking his hand, Wu Ming asks, “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes, I’m fine, how are you? How are you here? My Wu Ming, I missed you so much, I’m so happy to see you.”
Xie Lian again tries to sit up, but he can’t quite manage. This time though, Wu Ming carefully helps to prop him against the pillow. He’s smiling so widely it hurts his cheeks, and he beckons Wu Ming forward, wrapping him tightly in a hug. Like he did for the pat on his head, Wu Ming flinches at first then goes soft and pliant in Xie Lian’s arms. Both of his hands come up to cling to Xie Lian’s back, and he doesn’t resist when Xie Lian tugs him further forward until he’s on the mattress beside him. Xie Lian snuggles him in close, guiding him to rest his face against his shoulder as they both lay on their sides. The mask is cold against him even through the supple fabric of his new robes and he’s never been so happy to let in a chill.
“My Wu Ming,” Xie Lian sighs eventually, still not fully relinquishing his grip, “How have you been? Where have you been?”
“I’ve been well, Your Highness, better now that you’re here. I’ve been all over, but settled for long enough to build my manor.”
“Mm, it’s beautiful here, my Wu Ming. I’m glad you’ve done so well for yourself.”
Xie Lian gives him another quick squeeze before jolting to release him and sit up. Even if Wu Ming does not seem put off by Xie Lian being so touchy, he still shouldn’t just grab him and drag him into bed. How shameless! He flushes with embarrassment at his behavior, covering his flaming cheeks with his hands. Wu Ming moves to sit beside him, close enough for their knees to touch. Despite himself, Xie Lian leans in to the contact.
“Did you choose a name?” He asks after a moment, hoping Wu Ming did not condemn himself to that awful not-name all these years.
“I did. I go by Hua Cheng these days, but I am forever your Wu Ming, if you’d prefer to-”
“No!” Xie Lian interrupts, one hand grabbing Hua Cheng’s.
It is instinct that drives him to do so, to hold firm but gentle to the dear ghost he thought he’d lost. Slowly, he swipes his thumb back and forth over Hua Cheng’s knuckles, so happy to feel him hold on just as tight.
“I don’t want to be cruel to you. I will call you Wu Ming, if you’d prefer it, but I would rather-” rather what? Rather call you something else? If he wants to be Wu Ming, what right do I have to tell him no? “-I would rather not.” Xie Lian finishes lamely.
“Would Your Highness be willing to call me San Lang?” Hua Cheng says hopefully, like it would delight him to be called so familiarly by the person who got him killed.
“Of course, my San Lang,” Xie Lian murmurs, then cringes a little, “Ah, I shouldn’t be so possessive, I have no claim to you.”
“Actually, Your Highness...” Hua Cheng starts, then stops, unsure how to finish that thought. After a moment, he pivots, again sounding hopeful, “Do you remember what you told me last night? What you said you wanted to tell your Wu Ming, if he were really here?”
“Mm, that I missed you, and I’m sorry, and I- oh. Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with that, you have a beloved.”
Xie Lian hangs his head, retracting his hand from Hua Cheng’s to cover his face. You have a beloved, and what right do I have to love you? I certainly didn’t act like I did! How could I have been so stupid, so selfish! Even in a dream, I should know better than that! Hua Cheng gently takes his wrist, guiding his hand back down. Then he laces their fingers together and- no! No, don’t you dare! Don’t you dare sacrifice your beloved for me, not after you already gave your life. Feeling tears start to burn his eyes, Xie Lian tries to steady himself enough to speak. Hua Cheng beats him to it.
“It’s you. Your Highness, it has always been you.” He says softly, solemn and sweet and undeniably thrilled.
The tears spill over. Xie Lian turns to face him, free hand coming to cradle his cheek through the mask. Hua Cheng leans into his palm, seeming to slump in relief as Xie Lian draws him in for another tight embrace. Even without his spiritual powers, Xie Lian’s grip strength is not to be trifled with. If Hua Cheng were not already a ghost, surely he would be wheezing for breath. When Xie Lian eventually draws back with a wet smile, it takes a great amount of restraint for him not to immediately dive back in.
“My San Lang. My wonderful, sweet ghost. My beloved.” He whispers, and Hua Cheng seems to glow at that, quite literally. A faint glimmer of silver bursts from his shoulders. Then, gently, not wanting to spoil the tender mood but unwilling to let it go unaddressed, “I am so, so sorry. The way I treated you was unacceptable, no excuses. My pain does not give me a pass to hurt others. I will never, ever be so awful to you again.”
“I’ve never held it against you, Your Highness,” Hua Cheng swears, and Xie Lian fixes him with a nervous look, “I forgave you many, many years ago.”
Again Xie Lian reaches to cup his face, and again Hua Cheng presses his cheek into his hand. Until, that is, Xie Lian dips his index finger under the lip of the mask. Hua Cheng jerks back, all that relaxation from earlier completely gone.
“Ah, I should have asked first. Sorry, sweetheart. It’s alright if you don’t want me to see.”
“It’s not that, exactly, Your Highness. I’m-” Hua Cheng pauses, tries to get his emotions in check, “Before I take the mask off, I need to tell Your Highness that this isn’t what I look like anymore. I... changed, after becoming a supreme.”
“A supreme?”
“Yes, Your Highness. The most powerful category for ghosts.”
“How impressive! You’ve truly done so well for yourself. I’m so glad,” Xie Lian reaches out and squeezes his hand, trying to wring some of the tension out of him. Hua Cheng is miserably stiff, postured almost like he wants to bolt, “Would you be willing to show me what you look like now?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I will understand if your interest in me fades after seeing what I really am. I- I was not pretty in life, and have become even more disfigured in death. I can shapeshift, though, and will gladly take a more appealing form for you.”
“I’m not so vain as that,” Xie Lian frowns, “You are- no matter what you look like- the person I love most.”
Hua Cheng’s shoulders twitch in an aborted shrug, as if to say you say that now, but... Then, his form ripples. Those shoulders grow a little broader, waist and hips still narrow. With how he’s hunched over it’s hard for Xie Lian to tell how much taller he’s gotten, certainly a couple inches. The last things that change are his clothes and hair. He’s suddenly dressed in opulent red robes, clearly incredibly well made and expensive, contrasting gorgeously against his wild, inky black hair. The mask remains on his face, and Xie Lian thinks his hands (beautiful, delicate hands, an artist’s hands, with long fingers and sharp black nails, Xie Lian notes, struck with the sudden and inexplicable desire to feel those hands all over him) might be trembling as he moves to take it off. Under the mask is a face so breathtakingly handsome that Xie Lian half gasps, before frowning.
“I told you that you didn’t have to shapeshift.” He says gently. His ghost must be so scared of his reaction to continue to hide himself like this.
“I didn’t, Your Highness.” Hua Cheng tilts his head, perfect brow furrowing in confusion.
“But you said you weren’t pretty. You said you were disfigured.”
“I am,” Hua Cheng sighs, pulling back his bangs so the eye patch is more visible. Then, very quietly, almost sounding lost, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re stunning,” Xie Lian murmurs, cradling the side of his face that he apparently hates, “You really are. I don’t know how anyone could ever think otherwise.”
Hua Cheng sits stunned, obviously tempted to pull away and instead forcing himself to hold very, very still. Xie Lian leans forward slowly, giving him a chance to move back, before kissing the leather of his eye patch. It’s tender, brief, and has Hua Cheng trembling from head to toe. His remaining eye is bright with tears that he seems horrified at the prospect of shedding.
“Gege,” He says softly, seemingly unaware of the change in address, “You are far too good to me.”
“Nothing is too good for my San Lang.”
Both Hua Cheng’s arms wrap tightly around him, pulling him into an embrace he readily and eagerly reciprocates. They’re still perched at the edge of the bed, Xie Lian so overjoyed he can almost forget about nearly dying in the desert yesterday. Alas, his body cannot, and decides to loudly remind everyone that dinner last night was the first meal he’d had in quite a while and he’s in desperate need of more food. He startles at the sound of it, then lets out a mortified little groan, hiding his flaming face in Hua Cheng’s shoulder.
“I’ve been neglecting gege,” Hua Cheng teases fondly, the hand on his waist giving a gentle squeeze, “We should get you something to eat.”
“Ah, that would be nice,” Xie Lian murmurs, still flushed with embarrassment, “By the way, how did the bed get dried last night? I could swear I got it soaking wet.”
“My assistant took care of that.”
“I will have to thank them, then. It was very nice to sleep somewhere dry and cozy.”
They lapse into comfortable silence as they head back over to the dining hall. Xie Lian walks on his own power this time, but leans a little into Hua Cheng’s shoulder. Both for balance- his lingering dehydration still has him a little dizzy- and just because he can. He’s so happy to see his wonderful ghost again, let alone be allowed and encouraged to cuddle up to him like this. It’s delightful, and Xie Lian does not think he will ever get used to it. Hua Cheng is equally clingy, keeping a hand on his hip as they sit down. He uses one sharp nail to slit into an orange, peeling it and offering each slice to Xie Lian by hand. Both the orange and the gesture are sticky sweet.
Much to his embarrassment, Xie Lian starts to doze off on Hua Cheng’s shoulder as they eat. He supposes it shouldn’t be all that surprising, he did spend the last several days at least trying to avoid being cooked alive in the hot sand. Hua Cheng encourages him to go back to bed and get some rest, gleefully snuggling in next to him when he asks if he’d like to stay. It’s been so long since he’s been this comfortable. This time, Xie Lian gladly lets sleep take him, safe in the knowledge that his dearly missed and beloved ghost will still be here when he wakes up.