( they're nearly a third of the way back to their coffin-filled home when the rain begins. weather rarely catches xingchen by surprise, even without his sight, but this certainly has - barely a sprinkle at first, not even worth mentioning aloud, but in what seems like less than a minute they've walked right into a veritable downpour.
xingchen patiently sets his jaw, fingers lifting to push his already-dripping bangs back behind his ears before pulling their basket of shopped goods up to cradle it in one arm, the other arm covering the already-damp goods with a carefully-draped sleeve. ) You can put your sweets in here if you want to make sure they're kept dry, ( he offers, lifting a corner of the sleeve to offer a gap through which to do so if his companion so chooses.
otherwise, he keeps a steady pace along the road - perhaps, to one who knows him well, a bit more careful with each step than even the usual care he takes, though not enough so to slow him down. while xingchen navigates in large part via a steady expenditure of low-tier spiritual energy, he's come to rely quite a bit on his sense of hearing as well... a sense which is currently all but muffled by the sounds of rain around him, leaving him distinctly less comfortable in his understanding of the world around him.
none of which he mentions, of course. there's no real remedy for it, so there's no reason to burden his partner with it. it's fine, really. they don't live terribly far from yi city, and they'll be home soon enough. )
[ The storm had come upon them like a ghost - one minute a partly cloudy afternoon, the next a torrential downpour. Xue Yang is still processing the cold, drenching raindrops pelting his head and shoulders when Xingchen offers a safe place for his sweets. Of course he would worry about Xue Yang before himself, even though his own body is quickly becoming soaked. Still, he takes up the offer to protect his precious candy and puts the lot of it into the basket for protection. ] Thanks. [ Although his voice is nearly drowned out by the roar of the rain.
Then, it's Xue Yang's turn to take care. It's subtle, but there is a shift in his partner. He's not standing as tall as he usually does, something Xue Yang has only seen when he's uncomfortable. He reaches out one arm so he can press his hand against the small of Xingchen's back. He's not guiding him, per say, but instead keeping a hand on him in case he were to stumble, ready to catch him. He feels as though guiding him is too presumptuous and may make him feel inadequate, which he certainly is not. So, Xue Yang does his best to be helpful as they maneuver over the rivulets of water forming in the middle of and across their path.
The feeling of his robes soaking up water and sticking to his skin is nearly unbearable. There's mud everywhere, dirtying the ends of his robes and soaking into his boots. He's cranky enough to be making a face about it even as they arrive back to their home. It's still raining even when they settle inside to escape the downpour, a steady rhythm and roar of the drops beating on the roof of their house.
He flings his boots off as soon as he can, the squelching of each step too much for him to handle without an outburst of anger that has no true target. ] When did it get so cold? [ He complains, face pinched into an unflattering frown that he's thankful can't be seen. He can see his breath now, the immense drop in temperature from when they started home to when they arrived revealing a ghost of each exhale. It's not winter, but there are days now where the cold creeps in overnight and lingers in the morning until it's burnt off like fog by the sun. ]
( the steadying hand on his back is not unwelcome. though it makes no attempt to guide him, the simple knowledge that the hand would take care to warn him if he's somehow failed to catch an obstacle in his path (or whatever else his faint unease might be anticipating) is more than enough.
the rain hasn't let up by the time they arrive home. xingchen, of the pair of them, seems to have endured that fact with less difficulty despite the inhibition to his sense of hearing - he chosen to think of the rain as a constant rather than a circumstance, and through that, he's come to notice it as little as he notices other constants like the feel of robes on his skin or breath in his lungs... at least until they step inside, at which point the sensation changes and every ounce of the rain-based discomfort comes back to him.
xingchen lets out a quiet, enduring sort of sigh, setting to work pulling off his own boots just as his companion seems to be doing. 'when did it get so cold?' a reasonable question, laced with no shortage of irritation. it's rhetorical, and xingchen doesn't need to answer it. instead he says, ) Leave your boots by the door. I'll wash them with mine when I wash the mud from our robes. ( when the weather clears up, of course. no use trying to wash any of it now.
it's honestly quite chilly, enough so that he's tempted to keep his damp robes on if only because the innermost layers have already started to warm again - but that precise thing is how one becomes ill, so instead he's setting the basket of goods on the table and unfastening his belt to peel off the outermost (and certainly wettest) layer of robes. this, for lack of anywhere better, is draped carefully over one of the table's chairs to at least attempt to dry it. )
And once the sky clears up, it's time to take a look at this stove, ( he decides, because they could so easily warm up now if they'd bothered to repair this stove any sooner. the much smaller one over in a-qing's room works perfectly fine now, but it had been much simpler for the blind daozhang to fix. this one seems keen on spitting smoke into the room rather than up through the pipe to the roof, but in light of all of their other household repairs and the night hunts he holds in priority, he hasn't quite taken the time to diagnose it. )
[ Without irritation for Xingchen's suggestion of putting his boots by the door, Xue Yang does so with a pout. He was going to put them somewhere and the daozhang was just offering to clean them later, but Xue Yang is just mad they're soaked in the first place. He all but stomps to set his soaked boots beside his companions by the door and then attempts to walk straight to their bed (since he'd rid them of Xingchen's coffin before).
He's got half a mind, though, to undress before climbing into the warm sanctuary he knows is waiting for him. He makes quick work of undoing the ties of his arm bracers, then he flings his outer robes off and drapes them wherever he can find first, carelessness in his movements very unlike the way Xingchen makes an attempt to be tidy about the way he's hanging his robes to dry.
When Xue Yang rids himself of his wettest clothing, he's left only in his trousers (for the sake of his modesty) before he crawls into their bed, dramatically so, and covers himself up to the neck. Under the blankets, his arms are crossed over his chest as if he's pouting (and he is). He watches Xingchen finish up from there, wondering how a man can handle getting rained on like that without so much as a frown. ]
I wish it worked now. [ He doesn't mean to imply that Xingchen hasn't worked hard enough on improvements for their home already, though, it's just that Xue Yang needs something to complain about.
He feels restless as he waits, shivering every once in a while. ] Are you finished yet, if you don't cover up you're going to catch a cold. [ Which, in Xue Yang-ese means 'can you hurry up and get under here before I die of the cold?' ]
( meanwhile, xingchen continues the systematic removal of his own wet clothing, all the while listening to the chorus of fussing his partner supplies as he discards his boots by the door as requested, sheds his layers quickly and petulantly. by the time the man finds it in him to complain about xingchen's absence (he's learning your tricks, dear minhuo), the daozhang in question is down to his own trousers and thin white shirt - and he can't help but smile at the complaint, endeared and amused. no answer is provided, since his companion can see his progress well enough. instead he feels at the front of the latter for a moment, but deems it regrettably more than just 'damp' and sheds that as well.
now, finally, he can make his way to the bed in just his trousers (they stay, even damp as they are), barefoot, hair still dripping at the ends. when he touches the bed - the first dry object he's touched since they arrived - he realizes he can't quite feel his fingertips. perhaps he's colder than he thought. all the more reason to slip in under the covers now, scooting in toward his partner, guiding fingers out in front of him to find the man before he collides with him...
though the second those fingers find the warmer skin of minhuo's side, he draws them back with a quiet, ) I'm sorry, they're a little bit colder than I thought. ( the apology isn't terribly worried, since he doesn't think his partner's actually upset by the chilly touch. more just an acknowledgment of his lack of consideration, instead reaching to pull the blanket up around his shoulders and neck as well as he scoots in a bit closer to consolidate what warmth they do have. )
[ He watches as Xingchen takes his time in disrobing and he catches that little smile he offers in reply to all of Xue Yang's fussing about him taking his time. It causes his cheeks to flush, unable to help himself even if they both know that Xingchen usually has the insight to figure out what he's actually saying without saying it. Just like how Xue Yang was complaining about the time he's taking to get undressed rather than complaining about their lack of heat or worrying about Xingchen catching a cold.
Thanks to Xue Yang's own body, he's built up some body heat already under the blankets, so there will be something to offer when his companion finally crawls under them with him. He lifts the corner of the blankets to help him get under them before curling back in on himself when he feels the cloud of cold air creeping under.
He yelps at that ghastly touch of cold fingers, expression a mix of irritated and surprised at the shock of it all. ] You're as cold as a corpse, Xiao Xingchen. [ He tuts his tongue, shifting closer without offering his arms to cuddle into. Instead, Xue Yang reaches for the other mans hands to cover them with his own, closing them around his fingertips first, an attempt to use his own hands to warm them up.
He wants to be closer. Both because he enjoys sharing a bed with him like that and because he knows it will be warmer that way...but there is no well in hell he's letting Xingchen put those cold, dead hands on him again until he's thawed them out first. ]
( though he knows that his hands (at least in part) are being restrained from further chilly touches, the warmth of his partner's hands is very much welcome. they're still colder than they should be, but they're certainly warmer than xingchen's and he soaks it in gratefully, scooting the rest of him in about as close as he can get without putting any more cold body parts against bare skin. )
That's hardly my fault, ( he objects, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. since he doesn't have all that much body heat to contribute just yet, he'll have to settle for bringing their clasped hands in toward his face and breathing warm air over them. )
[ There he goes, teasing him and smiling at him in a way that would make his knees buckle if he were standing. Another reason for Xue Yang to hate himself later when he's left alone for whatever reason and allowed to listen to his thoughts. He's so whipped it isn't even deniable anymore. He can try to ignore it, though. Which he does sometimes with ease, like a well oiled instinct of a defense mechanism.
He's watching the way his companion exhales over their hands and flushes slightly, transfixed on his lips for a long moment before he can tear his gaze away. It's then when he sees the strip of fabric tied over Xingchen's eyes leeching wetness onto the block of a pillow his head had leaned on. ]
These are wet. [ Xue Yang brings their clasped hands up toward the daozhang's temples so he can press his knuckles against the damp fabric. He's not asking to take it off, but offering the opportunity to do so for his friend. ] It must be uncomfortable.
[ His voice is low now, like he's careful about their close proximity. He always gets like this when they retire for the evening, even when they're not awkwardly trying to get ever closer to each other. Like Xingchen's proximity soothes the beast within, his touch blanking out those sharp and unruly thoughts that often haunt Xue Mind. ]
( and here lies xingchen, entirely unaware of the effect he has on the man before him. it's not as though minhuo doesn't affect him in return - he laughs more easily, can't quite contain his smile. he feels both lighter and heavier at once, buoyant but somehow more grounded. things he never quite noticed until that evening walk when he finally stopped to let himself consider it. now, it's a perpetual struggle not to let it occupy at least a piece of the forefront of his mind.
xingchen certainly isn't complaining. he has more than enough self-discipline to manage.
meanwhile, as resigned as he is to the wetness of his hair, it takes being reminded of the cloth around his face to realize that he can actually take it off. he typically doesn't, not even for sleep, but the rain-soaked cloth sticks to his face in a way that he'll no longer properly be able to ignore now that he's aware of it. so he hums in affirmative, extending a pinky finger out from their bundle of hands and hooking it around the bottom of the bandaging. lifting their hands a bit, he ducks his head out of the bandaging, though all the effort to do this without disturbing their hands is moot now that he has to withdraw one long enough to reach over and deposit the wet bandage on the bedside table.
then it's returned, and he breathes on them a couple more times for good measure - all the while making every effort not to consider how much more unclothed he feels without that simple strip of cloth. it's not as if minhuo hasn't seen him without it, but much of that time was spent in the bathtub facing the opposite direction, not lying face-to-face like this. )
[ He's never minded the way Xingchen looks without the bandages covering his eyes. It might be gruesome to some but it's pretty tame compared to what sort of carnage Xue Yang has seen (and caused) in his life thus far. In his life before being pulled from the gutter. Still, he can understand if Xingchen continues to be uncomfortable with being so bare without the cover, self conscious perhaps about the way he looks. In an effort to make him less uncomfortable, Xue Yang does his best not to look directly into his face. He knows there's no way for the other man to tell he's looking at him but his senses have recovered enough that he could probably feel the gaze and the last thing he wants is for Xingchen to find an excuse to leave their little nest...both because he wants his warmth and his company.
He focuses on their hands then, rubbing them together, closing each of his fingertips in against his palm to offer the most warmth. He can almost stand to feel them against his skin by the time he's finished with all ten. He laces their fingers together then, tucking the bundle close against his chest to relax for a few more moments. ] Seems to be working. [ His gaze flicks up to his companion's face to measure his expression, offering his voice as a sort of reward for being so vulnerable. ] Your fingers are no longer icicles.
( to be fair, lying here unbandaged with his eyes closed, it's really not all that gruesome at all. his eyelids don't hold the right shape, but he hasn't been left with any scars, any disfigurement. as long as he keeps his eyelids mercifully closed, the visible damage is downright tame. and xingchen knows that, at least in part. he hasn't the slightest clue if he's been scarred in ways that his fingertips can't perceive, but he knows it can't be too horrifying compared to so much of what they see in even a single night hunt.
but by now, he's used to the bandaging. to the security of it. a vice he hadn't quite realized he'd stumbled into until recently. perhaps this is good for him, then, to spend a few minutes or hours without it.
and besides - now his partner is lacing their fingers together, and even so small an act is terribly distracting. there it is, xingchen's smiling again, the slightest involuntary curve at the corners of his mouth as he lets his hand be held, thumb brushing fondly along his partner's own. It does seem to be working, most certainly. he feels quite a bit warmer now, though he can't be sure how much of that is actual bodily warmth and how much is the warmth in his chest at everything this man seems to do. )
I'm not sure they remember how to be. ( as warm as his companion makes every part of him feel. only after he says it does he realize how ridiculous it sounds, exhaling a half-sheepish breath. )
They better remember. [ He chuckles warmly, looking at Xingchen and that adorable expression that's come over his face after saying something so ridiculous. It's nice to be able to see his expressions fully. Xue Yang has grown adept at reading them under the bandages but there's just something about being able to see his whole face and reading the tiny nuances usually hidden under the fabric of his bandages. ] You are not touching me with these until they warm up.
[ Perhaps his words a are a bit presumptuous, scandalous even, but he doesn't miss a beat. He continues to warm Xingchen's fingers until the chill seems to have left them enough that he thinks he can stand a touch. He's eager to be closer, able to feel the tension of shivers running through the other mans body even if he's trying to hide it. They match his own.
He makes a fuss over him, pulling Xingchen's slender body closer with ease so that the man is pressed right up against his chest with nowhere else to go. Xue Yang's arms close around his waist to lock him in place. It's not just for Xingchen's sake, though. The impatience stems from Xue Yang's own bratty need to be warm and he knows the closer they get the more heat they can share and trap under the blankets that are pulled up to their shoulders. There is no apprehension in being closer this time, no push and pull to be had. ]
( his foolish words go misunderstood, reworked into something more practical - and xingchen is almost relieved for it, despite the value he puts on clarity and on truth. it allows him to slip out from under something which, in retrospect, feels entirely too much like confession.
instead, he lets his hands be warmed for a bit longer until his partner seems to deem them satisfactory and releases them. but there's only time for the briefest, mildest of disappointment before arms wrap around his middle to pull him all the way across what little distance remains between them. they're chest to chest now, and oh but it's warm, so much warmer than xingchen pictured being able to be right now - but it's also much closer than they've been, with far fewer layers between them. the daozhang pulls in a slow breath (more minhuo's breath than actual air, at this proximity), a distinct shade of pink rising in his cheeks, and this exhale is almost laugh-shaped too as he realizes he isn't at all equipped with the appropriate response.
all he knows is that now that his companion is this close, xingchen can't stand the thought of him drawing away. and so he shifts a little, just enough to pull one trapped arm out from between them, and lets it drape up around the man's shoulder, fingers combing carefully into the loose damp hair at the nape of his neck. )
[ his petulance and whining had certainly lowered his inhibitions and lessened his own potential bashfulness at being so close and so bare and the immediate flood of warmth he feels continues to push them lower as he lies next to Xingchen. For now, he's got both arms wrapped around the other man's middle and his head laid on their pillow, just far enough away from each other to make it slightly less awkward.
He can see how clear Xingchen's skin is from here, something he'd always been impressed with. He certainly looks pure and bright like q daozhang should. Handsome in a regal sort of way that is directly opposite of Xue Yang's own looks. He could look at him all day, if allowed. Just appreciating his attractiveness. He'd be lying if he said it didn't have to do with how his pulse accelerated whenever they were close like this, although the majority of his affection stemmed from the kindness Xingchen had showed him over the years.
He feels the other man shifting and moves ever so slightly this way or that to allow his hand to escape, and then those fingertips cause goosebumps to blossom along his shoulders. He's reduced to a soft sigh of approval as his eyes close. He can't help himself as his head falls forward to rest against Xingchen's shoulder, hoping to give him some encouragement to continue because it feels wonderful.
His own hands tighten their hold, leaving little to no space between them as he clings to Xingchen, at the mercy of his warmth and those small touches. ]
( xingchen may not be able to see, but he can certainly feel the goosebumps rising along skin on which his bare arm rests, and perhaps his companion might catch the beginning of his smile before the man leans in against xingchen's shoulder with perhaps the daozhang's favorite of his sighs thus far. make no mistake, he's certainly going to continue, fingers combing slowly and rhythmically through this bottommost bit if hair, even experimentally ghosting short fingernails along skin at times. )
Perhaps one day you might tell me these things that you like, ( he murmurs, barely above a whisper now that his lips are so terribly close to his partner's ear, ) instead of waiting for me to find them.
[ he's done for. Xue Yang melts against the other man, reduced to a puddle of goo thanks to his attentive hands. The scrape of his nails cause a wave of new goosebumps to cascade down his shoulders and arms, and Xue Yang barely holds back another groan.
It's so embarrassing to show and his words are even more embarrassing to hear and the feeling of him speaking so closely to his ear has another wave of goosebumps blossoming over his skin. He hopes, for the sake of his dignity, that they can be explained away by the cold. How can he admit to such things when he barely knows them in the first place? Xingchen is the first person to touch him in a way that doesn't stem from violence. In any other circumstance, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it, but now his defenses have been absolutely obliterated by one simple action. ]
I didn't know I liked it. [ he admits softly, finding it easier to bear the embarrassment since his face is hidden. ] I like anything you do. [ his voice is barely audible as he speaks, still drowning in the embarrassment it brings. He wants to hide, turning his head a bit to bury his face against the crook of his neck since it's the closest place he can do so. Despite that, his cheeks are flushing deep, the warmth surely able to be felt against his companions neck. ]
( it's true, xingchen can certainly feel the burning of the cheeks buried where his neck and shoulders meet (not to mention the breath of the words against his neck, dragging out a few goosebumps of his own) - and in turn, his partner can certainly feel the curve of his smile where it presses into the man's damp hair. )
I'm sure that's not true, ( is his next murmur, a fond note of humor in his tone as his fingers continue their thoughtless work in his partner's hair. ) I make you eat vegetables. ( even before his sweets, at times. the feeling of that smile broadening into a grin is perhaps warning enough that he's about to tease. ) And I seem to disrobe much too slowly for your tastes. ( what with how the man complained about it before they climbed into bed. )
[ At least he can hide and be held close, and he can feel that smile forming along his hairline. He never wants to leave this spot. Not even when he's being mercilessly teased by a man who's supposed to be holy.
And there it is. He wants to disappear, feeling far too affected by his teasing even though he knows it's good natured. He just can never seem to take it. He blushed even more fiercely, arms tightening around Xingchen's body so he can't possibly pull away and see the state Xue Yang is in. His jaw clenches in an attempt to not say something he may regret later...and to try and not dwell on the thought of Xingchen's disrobing. ]
I hate vegetables. You know I only eat them because you get all sulky if I don't. [ it's the only way he knows to reply that has the least chance of ruining this wonderful moment. Anything to keep those hands in his hair. ]
( to be entirely fair, xingchen never claimed or tried to be holy. that isn't the goal of a daozhang. at the root of his principles is a quest for balance, for lightness. for unburdening himself of that which is bad or heavy or toxic and replacing it with that which is good and serene.
perhaps he's taking a few liberties with the concept of 'serene' as of late, considering how things have developed with his companion - but xingchen has come to decide rather definitively that regardless of serenity, this closeness has absolutely filled him with something good. something that does, in fact, lift away that which is heavy on his shoulders. it seems common for those who pursue the life of a daozhang to avoid this sort of closeness, to see it as something heavy which they need to unburden themselves of - leaving xingchen to wonder what travesty masqueraded as love in their lives, that they think so poorly of the concept.
in the meantime, his teasing has clearly caused some discomfort - is it cruel of xingchen to find relief in it, this evidence that discomfort no longer makes his partner pull away? it brings a new wave of fondness washing over him, his own arm wrapping a bit more securely around minhuo's shoulder (still running gentle fingers through his hair, of course), and he turns his head just enough to press his lips to the hair just above the man's ear. a reassurance, an olive branch, a truce. he's done teasing for now. he'll be nicer, if ever he wasn't in the first place. )
You can't just eat sweets for every meal, ( quietly, belatedly. ) You know this as well as I do.
[ He wants to argue but he knows that Xingchen is correct. He may have eaten badly on his own but when he has his family here and people who are enough to take care of him, he can't go around ignoring their concerns no matter how much he might want to eat candy for every meal. Besides...A-Qing is not so bad at cooking sometimes.
The little shows of affection are enough to assuage any discomfort or embarrassment he felt from the teasing. His cheeks slowly calm down and return back to their usual color and temperature but he doesn't pull away from where he's nestled close into Xingchen's neck. He's tangled up in him, arms wrapped around him and blankets tucking them both in. It's so comfortable. The warmth builds up around them as it is trapped in by the blankets and soothes out any tension left from the cold. His hair is still damp but there is no longer a shock of cold when it touches his skin. He could probably drift off like this, fall asleep, hopefully never have to leave this spot right here.
His body is on autopilot, brain just happy to be along for the ride. He turns his head a bit to nuzzle against the soft column of Xingchen's throat without thinking. He's full to the brim with restrained affection and being nicely taken care of has been wearing down the walls of that dam of desire. ]
( the appeal of their warmth-filled blanket cocoon is mutual, for certain. gone are any spare thoughts of feeling exposed without his shirt or his bandaging, though they'd certainly return if he committed the dire crime of extricating himself from minhuo's grasp and the blankets wrapped around them. it's a good thing that he has no intention of doing so. while he'd be more than capable of leaving the warmth in itself, it would take threat of death to convince him to disturb his partner right now. xingchen isn't positive the man has been this relaxed a single time since they've met, and he has the profound honor of being a part of it.
a bit less than a minute passes before he opens his mouth with every intention of softly encouraging his minhuo to rest a bit despite the hour - but that's right about when the face hidden in the hollow of his neck becomes soft brushes and hot breath a few inches below his pulse, and in place of words comes a painstakingly controlled exhale. one which is betrayed almost instantly by the way his chin lifts out of the way a bit more. sleep is no longer at the forefront of xingchen's mind, replaced by a formless sort of want that he couldn't put words or features to if he tried. )
[ They continue passing the go-ahead back and forth like tennis and Xue Yang doesn't miss a swing. The way Xingchen's chin tilts upwards is an invitation to him for more, exhaling noisily against his throat. His s k i n is so warm, blood rushing just under the surface, and Xue Yang is absolutely drowned in Xingchen's scent. It stirs something within his own body that he doesn't know how to greet so for now, it's ignored, just a faint nagging in the back of his mind as he focuses on how good it feels to be held. He can't remember a time before Xingchen where he was offered this kind of care, this brand of closeness. Xue Yang would never be offered a touch like this...but Minhuo was afforded this sort of affection. In this moment, he wants nothing more than to be who Xingchen thinks he is. He's willing to change for him, for this.
His eyes open, darkness surrounding his vision mostly from being hidden against the daozhang's neck. Fingertips sink into soft skin, gripping all that much tighter so there is no mistake that he might want to put distance between them.
If he turns his head just so, he can feel the even thrill of Xingchen's pulse against his lips. The touch of it against his mouth begs for a kiss, but he does his best to restrain himself, a noticeable tension to hold back. He's till not quite certain what Minhuo would do, or what Xingchen might want him to do. ]
( but xue yang could have, perhaps, been offered a touch like this. if he made the slightest attempt to connect to others instead of murdering them, it wouldn't have been spectacularly hard to find. it's honestly something that xingchen wondered about all those years ago, chasing xue yang across the land, turning him over to justice at the hands of the nie - had anyone ever been kind to him, this xue yang? would it have changed anything if they had? he always had this terribly naive habit of trying to find sense or reason or humanity in the acts of the depraved, to understand some fragment of the path that led to a life in which they pillage or wound or murder.
but all of that was a lifetime ago, far from his thoughts these days - and especially here and now. though it might be a little generous to call the contents of his head 'thoughts' at the moment. it's fine that his partner doesn't know what xingchen might want him to do, because xingchen certainly doesn't. what little function remains above his brain stem keeps his fingers moving in minhuo's hair and his breathing careful and steady, even as warm lips find his skin and send his heartbeat stuttering a little bit faster. all at once he's quite certain that if it goes away, there's a very real chance (as far as xingchen is concerned) that he'll die right here on the spot. )
[ Maybe not this time, his brain reasons. They're having such a nice time, why potentially ruin it? Perhaps it's a little late in life to want to stop ruining things but he's willing to try at least for this precious moment and for the sake of being Minhuo. Instead of allowing a kiss to fall there, he feels the quickening of that pulse against his mouth and does his absolute best not to fall for the provocation.
Xue Yang turns his head to remove the temptation, nuzzling his cheek into the softness of Xingchen's throat in the process. He manages to pull himself away just enough so that he's not as tempted to figuratively sink his teeth into him. ]
Makes me want to fall asleep. [ He mumbles, words barely formed from the laziness produced by those fingers in his hair. He's still fighting goosebumps from the touch, eyelids heavy as he lays his head back on the pillow they share so he can look at Xingchen in the face once again. It gives him just a moment to catch his breath and calm his heart. ]
( and then, as if some cruel stroke of fate has managed to read his mind, lips and breath disappear in favor of cheek and an unexpectedly sharp sort of disappointment coils in his stomach. his next breath is a quiet sigh, chin dropping again to settle against the side of his companion's head for the brief couple of moments before that draws away too.
this is better, he decides. safer. he's not supposed to want so terribly, anyway. he needs to pay better mind to that fact in the future.
his fingers slow a bit at the words, their rhythm more gradual and soothing and lacking in that brush of fingernails, and his lips curl into a quiet smile. ) So sleep, then, ( he offers, a warm murmur. ) I'll be here when you wake.
[ How can he sleep when Xingchen is smiling like that? Xue Yang is entranced by it, not even trying to hide the fact that he's staring at the other man so intently anymore. He's still as handsome as ever and his tiny smile has Xue Yang wanting more. So much more of those small gestures that seem to be meant only for him.
But we're having such a nice time, he thinks. I want you to keep smiling at me like that.
He reaches up to tuck a bit of stray hair that's fallen across the daozhang's cheek behind his ear. That hand stays, finding a place against the side of his neck. His fingertips tease at the hair he finds at Xingchen's nape. He feels compelled to come closer again, like the pull of a magnet. He can't help it as he closes the distance between them to get right up in his personal space, that hand ready to hold him close if he tries to get away. Not now, he thinks. He rests his head against the pillow there, just inches away from Xingchen's face, the tips of their noses threatening to touch. Stay. ]
( the tuck of hair is unexpected, earning an appreciative hum that goes softer and warmer at the end as his partner's palm settles on xingchen's neck. the fingertips teasing at his nape, on the other hand, send a chilly wave of goosebumps over the back of his neck and shoulders. it's more sensitive than he expected, and at once he very much understands why minhuo seems so taken with that precise thing. it's enough to distract him from what's happening in front of him, until all at once his partner's own breath warms the air that xingchen breathes.
and yet the man says nothing, no reply, no confirmation or denial of his plans to sleep. the silence feels incomplete, as if something hangs between them waiting to be said, but xingchen can't quite fathom what.
so after a few moments like this he whispers, ) Is something on your mind?
[ Is there something on his mind? Everything and nothing all at once, it feels like. His thoughts are racing as his eyes scan Xingchen's face, darting between his mouth and the rest of his features equally. His fingertips continue to tease along the nape of his neck, too, offering that same feeling back to Xingchen in hopes he understands just how much it affects him.
He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out for a long moment. ]
Tell me my name. [ He offers finally, voice soft since their proximity doesn't require much volume. He waits patiently, although with baited breath, to hear it. ]
( oh, he certainly understands. he understands, and a part of him almost wants it to stop so that the contents of his head feel less like both static and mush - so that whatever it is that his companion says is on his mind (yes, he remembers asking the question, albeit only vaguely) can get the attention and thought it deserves.
but a much larger part of xingchen couldn't ask him to stop even if he wanted to. he's supposed to avoid that which clouds his reason, but this too feels light within him and isn't that truly what matters?
'tell me my name.' it comes after moments or minutes or some measurement in between, and oh, but that's easy. )Minhuo, ( more breathed than spoken. )
[ He knows the power of that touch, having melted at it not too long ago. That touch that sparked all of this, that touch that had Xue Yang's hands grabbing at his companion greedily, showing just a ghost of his true nature.
His eyes are wide with anticipation as he waits. It was a simple request, even a man taken by touch could have understood. Certainly a man of Xingchen's discipline can handle it.
Just hearing the name Xingchen had so carefully given him has a spark catching, lighting him up. He's never heard it spoken quite like that before and that simple word beckons him closer, has his fingertips closing a bit more tightly around the back of Xingchen's neck so he can close the short distance between them. He couldn't stop if he wanted to. His fingers cage him in while he presses his mouth against Xingchen's own, a touch of their lips. His eyes are open so he can carefully survey the reaction he's allowed, searching for any minute shift of his expression, a clue that perhaps he's done the wrong thing. ]
( clever fire indeed, so terribly clever was this wicked trick to turn his mind to static and mush and leave him defenseless to whatever might come. defenseless to it and perhaps anticipating it in some part of his mind, the natural next step. and there it is, a brush of lips against his, in such sharp contrast with the intensity of the grip on the back of his neck that it feels incomplete.
and so xingchen completes it, lifting his chin just enough to press into the kiss rather than simply lie here and receive it. lie here and leave minhuo to wonder if he's done something horrible. xingchen won't allow it.
when they finally part, it's almost certainly because he can no longer fight back his grin. that very grin spreads on his lips the moment they're no longer pressed to minhuo's, and he can't temper it in the slightest. his thoughts are neither static nor mush at this point, considering all too many things at once - this new reality in which they kiss, the fact that it was his first of the sort, a brief consideration of his principles before deciding this is still just fine. he considers (in awe, in wonder) how something so simple as a name could have done this.
a name. he's stupid and foolish and so many things but he doesn't care about any of them in the slightest as he murmurs, ) Would you like to know a secret? ( if minhuo hasn't pulled back any, their lips still brush just barely with each word that xingchen offers. )
[ The daozhang's participation in the kiss seals the deal for him. He presses into it, the touch of Xingchen's own lips feels like permission to continue, so he allows his eyes to close since the fear of offending him has faded. If he's done the wrong thing, that's a problem for later.
He lingers into the press of their lips until he feels the tugging of his companion's own in a smile, what a treat to be allowed to experience. When he opens his eyes again he's treated to the visual of it that catches him, giving him pause, and makes him stay as close as possible. That hand is still seated at the back of his neck, not allowing him to get too far away so when he does speak, indeed, their lips continue to touch with each syllable. It's difficult to ignore and he offers small kisses with each brush, little greetings of his own to this new territory that he's been allowed to explore. ]
Yes. [ Now, it's his turn for his words to physically brush against Xingchen's mouth in their closeness. Of course he wants to know his secrets. Before, he'd wanted to know Xingchen's deepest, darkest secrets to use against him but now he desires to know them for safe keeping. ]
( and it's terribly distracting, to try to form words with your lips while someone insists on peppering them with kisses, but xingchen can't find it in him to muster up even a shred of objection to it. he's half tempted to abandon the words altogether, but then they're out and his partner says yes, that he wants to know - so he shifts to rest their foreheads together instead, giving his lips room to speak unhindered. )
You aren't allowed to laugh, ( is how he prefaces this, though he himself sounds almost amused by it. he doesn't wait for an agreement, continuing on after a moment to say, ) I haven't just named you 'Minhuo'.
( but this needs a bit of context, so he loops back to explain, ) There was a time, quite a few years ago, in which some called me the bright moon and gentle breeze. A title given in thanks, since I had none of my own. ( rarely do either of them speak of their pasts, so even after this long, this is something xingchen hadn't yet shared with his companion. ) When I told you I've named you 'Minhuo', it was only a part of it. I'd decided that you were both Minhuo and Zhongyu - the clever fire and steadfast rain. ( it's so senseless, in retrospect - it's not as if xiao xingchen has two different names to accompany his title - but at the time, some part of him had felt the (selfish, silly) urge to make them match. )
[ insert clip of that family guy episode where everyone pukes on each other ]
[ Since it feels like he's been given permission now, it's difficult for him to stop. Xue Yang has never had anyone tell him no (or yes, for that matter) and was so used to just taking the things he wanted that he can't help it when he wants to continue to feel Xingchen's lips on his own even when he very obviously has something he wants to say.
And Xue Yang is interested. Minhuo is certainly interested.
He listens intently to the explanation of how he's come to this name for him and it melts those cold, dark places of his heart and replaces them with a soft flutter of affection. It feels good and makes him want to hear more, maybe even kiss him some more. He can see the subtle shifts of expression on Xingchen's face even without his eyes; The tug of his lips in a shy smile, the way he tries to 'look' away as though he's bashful. Xue Yang pulls away from him just enough to be able to see his entire face as he speaks.
How could he ever laugh at that? The only laughing he feels the need to do is at himself for feeling so floored by all of this. He's thankful they're lying down already because the rush of emotion at the confession would have floored him for sure. He's smiling widely in lieu of a laugh, finding a growing fondness for Xingchen's hard work in thinking about him and what name might suit him. ]
I like it. [ Words confessed quietly, every turn of his tongue deliberate. ] You've thought hard about it and it suits me well. [ His lips tug into a sharper smile, tilting his head a bit in interest. ]
( his next breath is one of relief, perhaps even a bit of amused self-chiding (why had he been so worried? he shouldn't have been), and a smile lingers at the corners of his lips just as it has for much of the last few minutes. )
I'm glad, ( he says, quiet and fond - those may very well be the words he said the first time his companion approved of his choice in names as well - and finally his hand draws out of minhuo's hair, instead finding the edge of his jaw so he has something to navigate by as he leans in just enough to steal a quiet feather-light kiss. he sorely hopes that he's understood how this works, and that doing so isn't out of bounds in some way his lack of firsthand experience leaves him ignorant to. )
[ He enjoys being someone different. It's nice to be Minhuo instead of Xue Yang, and especially so considering how fond Xingchen has become of him. If he were to find out his true identity...well, then everything in this illusion of a life they've built would shatter and along with it, so would his psyche. It wouldn't be pretty.
Leaning into that touch, Xue Yang keeps very still for him while also seeking out more of it. He likes being touched, doesn't even mind it now when Xingchen traces his features. And then that kiss, of course. He closes his eyes as his companion comes closer and meets the press of his lips with his own, affectionate. There's a desire for more but he resists it, allowing his eyes to open when they part.
What is this thing they've built together? All this fondness they've cultivated for each other? What does it mean? If Xingchen still had his sight, he would be able to see those questions etched right into Xue Yang's expression. Thankfully, he can hide it.
Xue Yang reaches for one of the daozhang's hands so he can lace their fingers together, an excuse to touch, to be closer. The other brushes a bit of stray hair from his face, admiring him for these quiet moments. ]
( and they warm xingchen profoundly, these small and tender things. the way minhuo leans into any given touch he has to offer, like a plant curving toward the sun. the way he presses in the moment their lips meet, but never enough to risk pushing xingchen farther than he's shown that he wants to go. the gentlest touch with which the man brushes hair back from xingchen's face. within the daozhang grows a feeling he's not entirely certain he's ever truly felt.
he can't imagine the thought of having come upon this feeling before he was sure that his minhuo would stay.
their fingers are laced together now, and xingchen brings both hands up so he can press a quiet kiss along the knuckles, a silent 'i like this, too'. there are so many little things that he finds that he likes, small touches and gestures that he never would have taken the time to consider until he found himself here in the midst of them. )
Would you still like to sleep? ( he murmurs, the hand on his partner's jaw dropping now to rest lightly against the man's bare chest just below a collarbone. the corners of his lips curl just for a moment as he adds, ) I can read to you, if it might help.
[ He's watching intently as his hands are brought closer and kissed gratefully, something that causes his cheeks to flush once again. After all of the terrible things he's seen and done, he's still blushing at a simple gesture like that.
He does feel like sleep, somehow. The cold had drawn out so much if his energy compounded by the anxiety of what if in those moments before their lips met for the first time had him feeling groggy. He couldn't say no even if he wanted to. ]
Yeah, it might help. [ He was certain that he could fall asleep without being read to but there was something soft in the offer that he didn't want to decline. Plus, he remembered reading to Xingchen before and he still holds that memory dear. He's happy to create another. ]
( the answer earns a quiet pleased hum, and he draws back just enough to - oh, to let chill into their blanket haven, to which xingchen presses his lips to a disapproving line and moves a bit more quickly in his one-handed search of the beside table to find the book in question. then he retreats back under the blankets, book and all.
in that pocket of warmth he tucks the arm around minhuo's middle, setting the book on the empty patch of bed behind him. one might faintly be able to hear the faint shuffling of pages as he locates the page marker that the other man left, light fingers running along the first line of the page and feeling with mild relief that the lettering is, indeed, textured enough to follow along by touch. )
'Do you not realize,' the Diviner asked, 'That true divination is no longer as such the moment it touches the common world?'
( and so he begins to read quietly into the space between his face and minhuo's. the words come slowly at first, carefully, as xingchen identifies each syllable under his fingertip and moves to the next - but mercifully, he's had just enough practice in the past that the process isn't painfully slow. )
'What do you mean?' asked the Second Young Master. 'Are not you yourself a diviner?'
And the diviner said, 'I once thought that I was. I know now that the things which I divine come to pass because I have divined them. In foreseeing these things, I have forewritten them. Do you understand now?'
( as he continues to read, his voice gets steadier, the words coming more easily. the slight focused knit between his brows relaxes away, and his thumb slides affectionately along the back of his partner's. )
[ He frowns to himself when Xingchen has to leave to get the book, but he does his best to trap the warmth in around them, only granting access when Xingchen returns to him. He settles in easily, entirely relaxed into the mattress with the daozhang close to him. He's right there, close enough that he can feel the ghost of each word as he speaks them, not minding his slow pace. He's impressed enough that the man can read from touch alone and also taken aback by how foreign it is to him to be read to. Not bad, of course. He's quite enjoying himself even if he isn't paying much mind to the actual progression of the story.
As much as he desires to stay away and watch the confidence grow on Xingchen's face, the warmth their bodies share and the steady, even twinkle of Xingchen's voice lulls his eyes to close. He's still awake for the most part, hearing every word but not exactly comprehending them as much. If Xingchen were to stop reading, however, he might lift his head and ask him to continue. ]
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body heat meme.
get daozhang naked again meme
Then, it's Xue Yang's turn to take care. It's subtle, but there is a shift in his partner. He's not standing as tall as he usually does, something Xue Yang has only seen when he's uncomfortable. He reaches out one arm so he can press his hand against the small of Xingchen's back. He's not guiding him, per say, but instead keeping a hand on him in case he were to stumble, ready to catch him. He feels as though guiding him is too presumptuous and may make him feel inadequate, which he certainly is not. So, Xue Yang does his best to be helpful as they maneuver over the rivulets of water forming in the middle of and across their path.
The feeling of his robes soaking up water and sticking to his skin is nearly unbearable. There's mud everywhere, dirtying the ends of his robes and soaking into his boots. He's cranky enough to be making a face about it even as they arrive back to their home. It's still raining even when they settle inside to escape the downpour, a steady rhythm and roar of the drops beating on the roof of their house.
He flings his boots off as soon as he can, the squelching of each step too much for him to handle without an outburst of anger that has no true target. ] When did it get so cold? [ He complains, face pinched into an unflattering frown that he's thankful can't be seen. He can see his breath now, the immense drop in temperature from when they started home to when they arrived revealing a ghost of each exhale. It's not winter, but there are days now where the cold creeps in overnight and lingers in the morning until it's burnt off like fog by the sun. ]
get both of them naked for once meme
the rain hasn't let up by the time they arrive home. xingchen, of the pair of them, seems to have endured that fact with less difficulty despite the inhibition to his sense of hearing - he chosen to think of the rain as a constant rather than a circumstance, and through that, he's come to notice it as little as he notices other constants like the feel of robes on his skin or breath in his lungs... at least until they step inside, at which point the sensation changes and every ounce of the rain-based discomfort comes back to him.
xingchen lets out a quiet, enduring sort of sigh, setting to work pulling off his own boots just as his companion seems to be doing. 'when did it get so cold?' a reasonable question, laced with no shortage of irritation. it's rhetorical, and xingchen doesn't need to answer it. instead he says, ) Leave your boots by the door. I'll wash them with mine when I wash the mud from our robes. ( when the weather clears up, of course. no use trying to wash any of it now.
it's honestly quite chilly, enough so that he's tempted to keep his damp robes on if only because the innermost layers have already started to warm again - but that precise thing is how one becomes ill, so instead he's setting the basket of goods on the table and unfastening his belt to peel off the outermost (and certainly wettest) layer of robes. this, for lack of anywhere better, is draped carefully over one of the table's chairs to at least attempt to dry it. )
And once the sky clears up, it's time to take a look at this stove, ( he decides, because they could so easily warm up now if they'd bothered to repair this stove any sooner. the much smaller one over in a-qing's room works perfectly fine now, but it had been much simpler for the blind daozhang to fix. this one seems keen on spitting smoke into the room rather than up through the pipe to the roof, but in light of all of their other household repairs and the night hunts he holds in priority, he hasn't quite taken the time to diagnose it. )
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He's got half a mind, though, to undress before climbing into the warm sanctuary he knows is waiting for him. He makes quick work of undoing the ties of his arm bracers, then he flings his outer robes off and drapes them wherever he can find first, carelessness in his movements very unlike the way Xingchen makes an attempt to be tidy about the way he's hanging his robes to dry.
When Xue Yang rids himself of his wettest clothing, he's left only in his trousers (for the sake of his modesty) before he crawls into their bed, dramatically so, and covers himself up to the neck. Under the blankets, his arms are crossed over his chest as if he's pouting (and he is). He watches Xingchen finish up from there, wondering how a man can handle getting rained on like that without so much as a frown. ]
I wish it worked now. [ He doesn't mean to imply that Xingchen hasn't worked hard enough on improvements for their home already, though, it's just that Xue Yang needs something to complain about.
He feels restless as he waits, shivering every once in a while. ] Are you finished yet, if you don't cover up you're going to catch a cold. [ Which, in Xue Yang-ese means 'can you hurry up and get under here before I die of the cold?' ]
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now, finally, he can make his way to the bed in just his trousers (they stay, even damp as they are), barefoot, hair still dripping at the ends. when he touches the bed - the first dry object he's touched since they arrived - he realizes he can't quite feel his fingertips. perhaps he's colder than he thought. all the more reason to slip in under the covers now, scooting in toward his partner, guiding fingers out in front of him to find the man before he collides with him...
though the second those fingers find the warmer skin of minhuo's side, he draws them back with a quiet, ) I'm sorry, they're a little bit colder than I thought. ( the apology isn't terribly worried, since he doesn't think his partner's actually upset by the chilly touch. more just an acknowledgment of his lack of consideration, instead reaching to pull the blanket up around his shoulders and neck as well as he scoots in a bit closer to consolidate what warmth they do have. )
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Thanks to Xue Yang's own body, he's built up some body heat already under the blankets, so there will be something to offer when his companion finally crawls under them with him. He lifts the corner of the blankets to help him get under them before curling back in on himself when he feels the cloud of cold air creeping under.
He yelps at that ghastly touch of cold fingers, expression a mix of irritated and surprised at the shock of it all. ] You're as cold as a corpse, Xiao Xingchen. [ He tuts his tongue, shifting closer without offering his arms to cuddle into. Instead, Xue Yang reaches for the other mans hands to cover them with his own, closing them around his fingertips first, an attempt to use his own hands to warm them up.
He wants to be closer. Both because he enjoys sharing a bed with him like that and because he knows it will be warmer that way...but there is no well in hell he's letting Xingchen put those cold, dead hands on him again until he's thawed them out first. ]
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That's hardly my fault, ( he objects, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. since he doesn't have all that much body heat to contribute just yet, he'll have to settle for bringing their clasped hands in toward his face and breathing warm air over them. )
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He's watching the way his companion exhales over their hands and flushes slightly, transfixed on his lips for a long moment before he can tear his gaze away. It's then when he sees the strip of fabric tied over Xingchen's eyes leeching wetness onto the block of a pillow his head had leaned on. ]
These are wet. [ Xue Yang brings their clasped hands up toward the daozhang's temples so he can press his knuckles against the damp fabric. He's not asking to take it off, but offering the opportunity to do so for his friend. ] It must be uncomfortable.
[ His voice is low now, like he's careful about their close proximity. He always gets like this when they retire for the evening, even when they're not awkwardly trying to get ever closer to each other. Like Xingchen's proximity soothes the beast within, his touch blanking out those sharp and unruly thoughts that often haunt Xue Mind. ]
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xingchen certainly isn't complaining. he has more than enough self-discipline to manage.
meanwhile, as resigned as he is to the wetness of his hair, it takes being reminded of the cloth around his face to realize that he can actually take it off. he typically doesn't, not even for sleep, but the rain-soaked cloth sticks to his face in a way that he'll no longer properly be able to ignore now that he's aware of it. so he hums in affirmative, extending a pinky finger out from their bundle of hands and hooking it around the bottom of the bandaging. lifting their hands a bit, he ducks his head out of the bandaging, though all the effort to do this without disturbing their hands is moot now that he has to withdraw one long enough to reach over and deposit the wet bandage on the bedside table.
then it's returned, and he breathes on them a couple more times for good measure - all the while making every effort not to consider how much more unclothed he feels without that simple strip of cloth. it's not as if minhuo hasn't seen him without it, but much of that time was spent in the bathtub facing the opposite direction, not lying face-to-face like this. )
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He focuses on their hands then, rubbing them together, closing each of his fingertips in against his palm to offer the most warmth. He can almost stand to feel them against his skin by the time he's finished with all ten. He laces their fingers together then, tucking the bundle close against his chest to relax for a few more moments. ] Seems to be working. [ His gaze flicks up to his companion's face to measure his expression, offering his voice as a sort of reward for being so vulnerable. ] Your fingers are no longer icicles.
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but by now, he's used to the bandaging. to the security of it. a vice he hadn't quite realized he'd stumbled into until recently. perhaps this is good for him, then, to spend a few minutes or hours without it.
and besides - now his partner is lacing their fingers together, and even so small an act is terribly distracting. there it is, xingchen's smiling again, the slightest involuntary curve at the corners of his mouth as he lets his hand be held, thumb brushing fondly along his partner's own. It does seem to be working, most certainly. he feels quite a bit warmer now, though he can't be sure how much of that is actual bodily warmth and how much is the warmth in his chest at everything this man seems to do. )
I'm not sure they remember how to be. ( as warm as his companion makes every part of him feel. only after he says it does he realize how ridiculous it sounds, exhaling a half-sheepish breath. )
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[ Perhaps his words a are a bit presumptuous, scandalous even, but he doesn't miss a beat. He continues to warm Xingchen's fingers until the chill seems to have left them enough that he thinks he can stand a touch. He's eager to be closer, able to feel the tension of shivers running through the other mans body even if he's trying to hide it. They match his own.
He makes a fuss over him, pulling Xingchen's slender body closer with ease so that the man is pressed right up against his chest with nowhere else to go. Xue Yang's arms close around his waist to lock him in place. It's not just for Xingchen's sake, though. The impatience stems from Xue Yang's own bratty need to be warm and he knows the closer they get the more heat they can share and trap under the blankets that are pulled up to their shoulders. There is no apprehension in being closer this time, no push and pull to be had. ]
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instead, he lets his hands be warmed for a bit longer until his partner seems to deem them satisfactory and releases them. but there's only time for the briefest, mildest of disappointment before arms wrap around his middle to pull him all the way across what little distance remains between them. they're chest to chest now, and oh but it's warm, so much warmer than xingchen pictured being able to be right now - but it's also much closer than they've been, with far fewer layers between them. the daozhang pulls in a slow breath (more minhuo's breath than actual air, at this proximity), a distinct shade of pink rising in his cheeks, and this exhale is almost laugh-shaped too as he realizes he isn't at all equipped with the appropriate response.
all he knows is that now that his companion is this close, xingchen can't stand the thought of him drawing away. and so he shifts a little, just enough to pull one trapped arm out from between them, and lets it drape up around the man's shoulder, fingers combing carefully into the loose damp hair at the nape of his neck. )
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He can see how clear Xingchen's skin is from here, something he'd always been impressed with. He certainly looks pure and bright like q daozhang should. Handsome in a regal sort of way that is directly opposite of Xue Yang's own looks. He could look at him all day, if allowed. Just appreciating his attractiveness. He'd be lying if he said it didn't have to do with how his pulse accelerated whenever they were close like this, although the majority of his affection stemmed from the kindness Xingchen had showed him over the years.
He feels the other man shifting and moves ever so slightly this way or that to allow his hand to escape, and then those fingertips cause goosebumps to blossom along his shoulders. He's reduced to a soft sigh of approval as his eyes close. He can't help himself as his head falls forward to rest against Xingchen's shoulder, hoping to give him some encouragement to continue because it feels wonderful.
His own hands tighten their hold, leaving little to no space between them as he clings to Xingchen, at the mercy of his warmth and those small touches. ]
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Perhaps one day you might tell me these things that you like, ( he murmurs, barely above a whisper now that his lips are so terribly close to his partner's ear, ) instead of waiting for me to find them.
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It's so embarrassing to show and his words are even more embarrassing to hear and the feeling of him speaking so closely to his ear has another wave of goosebumps blossoming over his skin. He hopes, for the sake of his dignity, that they can be explained away by the cold. How can he admit to such things when he barely knows them in the first place? Xingchen is the first person to touch him in a way that doesn't stem from violence. In any other circumstance, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it, but now his defenses have been absolutely obliterated by one simple action. ]
I didn't know I liked it. [ he admits softly, finding it easier to bear the embarrassment since his face is hidden. ] I like anything you do. [ his voice is barely audible as he speaks, still drowning in the embarrassment it brings. He wants to hide, turning his head a bit to bury his face against the crook of his neck since it's the closest place he can do so. Despite that, his cheeks are flushing deep, the warmth surely able to be felt against his companions neck. ]
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I'm sure that's not true, ( is his next murmur, a fond note of humor in his tone as his fingers continue their thoughtless work in his partner's hair. ) I make you eat vegetables. ( even before his sweets, at times. the feeling of that smile broadening into a grin is perhaps warning enough that he's about to tease. ) And I seem to disrobe much too slowly for your tastes. ( what with how the man complained about it before they climbed into bed. )
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And there it is. He wants to disappear, feeling far too affected by his teasing even though he knows it's good natured. He just can never seem to take it. He blushed even more fiercely, arms tightening around Xingchen's body so he can't possibly pull away and see the state Xue Yang is in. His jaw clenches in an attempt to not say something he may regret later...and to try and not dwell on the thought of Xingchen's disrobing. ]
I hate vegetables. You know I only eat them because you get all sulky if I don't. [ it's the only way he knows to reply that has the least chance of ruining this wonderful moment. Anything to keep those hands in his hair. ]
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perhaps he's taking a few liberties with the concept of 'serene' as of late, considering how things have developed with his companion - but xingchen has come to decide rather definitively that regardless of serenity, this closeness has absolutely filled him with something good. something that does, in fact, lift away that which is heavy on his shoulders. it seems common for those who pursue the life of a daozhang to avoid this sort of closeness, to see it as something heavy which they need to unburden themselves of - leaving xingchen to wonder what travesty masqueraded as love in their lives, that they think so poorly of the concept.
in the meantime, his teasing has clearly caused some discomfort - is it cruel of xingchen to find relief in it, this evidence that discomfort no longer makes his partner pull away? it brings a new wave of fondness washing over him, his own arm wrapping a bit more securely around minhuo's shoulder (still running gentle fingers through his hair, of course), and he turns his head just enough to press his lips to the hair just above the man's ear. a reassurance, an olive branch, a truce. he's done teasing for now. he'll be nicer, if ever he wasn't in the first place. )
You can't just eat sweets for every meal, ( quietly, belatedly. ) You know this as well as I do.
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The little shows of affection are enough to assuage any discomfort or embarrassment he felt from the teasing. His cheeks slowly calm down and return back to their usual color and temperature but he doesn't pull away from where he's nestled close into Xingchen's neck. He's tangled up in him, arms wrapped around him and blankets tucking them both in. It's so comfortable. The warmth builds up around them as it is trapped in by the blankets and soothes out any tension left from the cold. His hair is still damp but there is no longer a shock of cold when it touches his skin. He could probably drift off like this, fall asleep, hopefully never have to leave this spot right here.
His body is on autopilot, brain just happy to be along for the ride. He turns his head a bit to nuzzle against the soft column of Xingchen's throat without thinking. He's full to the brim with restrained affection and being nicely taken care of has been wearing down the walls of that dam of desire. ]
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a bit less than a minute passes before he opens his mouth with every intention of softly encouraging his minhuo to rest a bit despite the hour - but that's right about when the face hidden in the hollow of his neck becomes soft brushes and hot breath a few inches below his pulse, and in place of words comes a painstakingly controlled exhale. one which is betrayed almost instantly by the way his chin lifts out of the way a bit more. sleep is no longer at the forefront of xingchen's mind, replaced by a formless sort of want that he couldn't put words or features to if he tried. )
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His eyes open, darkness surrounding his vision mostly from being hidden against the daozhang's neck. Fingertips sink into soft skin, gripping all that much tighter so there is no mistake that he might want to put distance between them.
If he turns his head just so, he can feel the even thrill of Xingchen's pulse against his lips. The touch of it against his mouth begs for a kiss, but he does his best to restrain himself, a noticeable tension to hold back. He's till not quite certain what Minhuo would do, or what Xingchen might want him to do. ]
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but all of that was a lifetime ago, far from his thoughts these days - and especially here and now. though it might be a little generous to call the contents of his head 'thoughts' at the moment. it's fine that his partner doesn't know what xingchen might want him to do, because xingchen certainly doesn't. what little function remains above his brain stem keeps his fingers moving in minhuo's hair and his breathing careful and steady, even as warm lips find his skin and send his heartbeat stuttering a little bit faster. all at once he's quite certain that if it goes away, there's a very real chance (as far as xingchen is concerned) that he'll die right here on the spot. )
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Xue Yang turns his head to remove the temptation, nuzzling his cheek into the softness of Xingchen's throat in the process. He manages to pull himself away just enough so that he's not as tempted to figuratively sink his teeth into him. ]
Makes me want to fall asleep. [ He mumbles, words barely formed from the laziness produced by those fingers in his hair. He's still fighting goosebumps from the touch, eyelids heavy as he lays his head back on the pillow they share so he can look at Xingchen in the face once again. It gives him just a moment to catch his breath and calm his heart. ]
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this is better, he decides. safer. he's not supposed to want so terribly, anyway. he needs to pay better mind to that fact in the future.
his fingers slow a bit at the words, their rhythm more gradual and soothing and lacking in that brush of fingernails, and his lips curl into a quiet smile. ) So sleep, then, ( he offers, a warm murmur. ) I'll be here when you wake.
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But we're having such a nice time, he thinks. I want you to keep smiling at me like that.
He reaches up to tuck a bit of stray hair that's fallen across the daozhang's cheek behind his ear. That hand stays, finding a place against the side of his neck. His fingertips tease at the hair he finds at Xingchen's nape. He feels compelled to come closer again, like the pull of a magnet. He can't help it as he closes the distance between them to get right up in his personal space, that hand ready to hold him close if he tries to get away. Not now, he thinks. He rests his head against the pillow there, just inches away from Xingchen's face, the tips of their noses threatening to touch. Stay. ]
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and yet the man says nothing, no reply, no confirmation or denial of his plans to sleep. the silence feels incomplete, as if something hangs between them waiting to be said, but xingchen can't quite fathom what.
so after a few moments like this he whispers, ) Is something on your mind?
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He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out for a long moment. ]
Tell me my name. [ He offers finally, voice soft since their proximity doesn't require much volume. He waits patiently, although with baited breath, to hear it. ]
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but a much larger part of xingchen couldn't ask him to stop even if he wanted to. he's supposed to avoid that which clouds his reason, but this too feels light within him and isn't that truly what matters?
'tell me my name.' it comes after moments or minutes or some measurement in between, and oh, but that's easy. ) Minhuo, ( more breathed than spoken. )
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His eyes are wide with anticipation as he waits. It was a simple request, even a man taken by touch could have understood. Certainly a man of Xingchen's discipline can handle it.
Just hearing the name Xingchen had so carefully given him has a spark catching, lighting him up. He's never heard it spoken quite like that before and that simple word beckons him closer, has his fingertips closing a bit more tightly around the back of Xingchen's neck so he can close the short distance between them. He couldn't stop if he wanted to. His fingers cage him in while he presses his mouth against Xingchen's own, a touch of their lips. His eyes are open so he can carefully survey the reaction he's allowed, searching for any minute shift of his expression, a clue that perhaps he's done the wrong thing. ]
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and so xingchen completes it, lifting his chin just enough to press into the kiss rather than simply lie here and receive it. lie here and leave minhuo to wonder if he's done something horrible. xingchen won't allow it.
when they finally part, it's almost certainly because he can no longer fight back his grin. that very grin spreads on his lips the moment they're no longer pressed to minhuo's, and he can't temper it in the slightest. his thoughts are neither static nor mush at this point, considering all too many things at once - this new reality in which they kiss, the fact that it was his first of the sort, a brief consideration of his principles before deciding this is still just fine. he considers (in awe, in wonder) how something so simple as a name could have done this.
a name. he's stupid and foolish and so many things but he doesn't care about any of them in the slightest as he murmurs, ) Would you like to know a secret? ( if minhuo hasn't pulled back any, their lips still brush just barely with each word that xingchen offers. )
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He lingers into the press of their lips until he feels the tugging of his companion's own in a smile, what a treat to be allowed to experience. When he opens his eyes again he's treated to the visual of it that catches him, giving him pause, and makes him stay as close as possible. That hand is still seated at the back of his neck, not allowing him to get too far away so when he does speak, indeed, their lips continue to touch with each syllable. It's difficult to ignore and he offers small kisses with each brush, little greetings of his own to this new territory that he's been allowed to explore. ]
Yes. [ Now, it's his turn for his words to physically brush against Xingchen's mouth in their closeness. Of course he wants to know his secrets. Before, he'd wanted to know Xingchen's deepest, darkest secrets to use against him but now he desires to know them for safe keeping. ]
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You aren't allowed to laugh, ( is how he prefaces this, though he himself sounds almost amused by it. he doesn't wait for an agreement, continuing on after a moment to say, ) I haven't just named you 'Minhuo'.
( but this needs a bit of context, so he loops back to explain, ) There was a time, quite a few years ago, in which some called me the bright moon and gentle breeze. A title given in thanks, since I had none of my own. ( rarely do either of them speak of their pasts, so even after this long, this is something xingchen hadn't yet shared with his companion. ) When I told you I've named you 'Minhuo', it was only a part of it. I'd decided that you were both Minhuo and Zhongyu - the clever fire and steadfast rain. ( it's so senseless, in retrospect - it's not as if xiao xingchen has two different names to accompany his title - but at the time, some part of him had felt the (selfish, silly) urge to make them match. )
[ insert clip of that family guy episode where everyone pukes on each other ]
And Xue Yang is interested. Minhuo is certainly interested.
He listens intently to the explanation of how he's come to this name for him and it melts those cold, dark places of his heart and replaces them with a soft flutter of affection. It feels good and makes him want to hear more, maybe even kiss him some more. He can see the subtle shifts of expression on Xingchen's face even without his eyes; The tug of his lips in a shy smile, the way he tries to 'look' away as though he's bashful. Xue Yang pulls away from him just enough to be able to see his entire face as he speaks.
How could he ever laugh at that? The only laughing he feels the need to do is at himself for feeling so floored by all of this. He's thankful they're lying down already because the rush of emotion at the confession would have floored him for sure. He's smiling widely in lieu of a laugh, finding a growing fondness for Xingchen's hard work in thinking about him and what name might suit him. ]
I like it. [ Words confessed quietly, every turn of his tongue deliberate. ] You've thought hard about it and it suits me well. [ His lips tug into a sharper smile, tilting his head a bit in interest. ]
[ deletes that clip from the face of the earth ]
I'm glad, ( he says, quiet and fond - those may very well be the words he said the first time his companion approved of his choice in names as well - and finally his hand draws out of minhuo's hair, instead finding the edge of his jaw so he has something to navigate by as he leans in just enough to steal a quiet feather-light kiss. he sorely hopes that he's understood how this works, and that doing so isn't out of bounds in some way his lack of firsthand experience leaves him ignorant to. )
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Leaning into that touch, Xue Yang keeps very still for him while also seeking out more of it. He likes being touched, doesn't even mind it now when Xingchen traces his features. And then that kiss, of course. He closes his eyes as his companion comes closer and meets the press of his lips with his own, affectionate. There's a desire for more but he resists it, allowing his eyes to open when they part.
What is this thing they've built together? All this fondness they've cultivated for each other? What does it mean? If Xingchen still had his sight, he would be able to see those questions etched right into Xue Yang's expression. Thankfully, he can hide it.
Xue Yang reaches for one of the daozhang's hands so he can lace their fingers together, an excuse to touch, to be closer. The other brushes a bit of stray hair from his face, admiring him for these quiet moments. ]
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he can't imagine the thought of having come upon this feeling before he was sure that his minhuo would stay.
their fingers are laced together now, and xingchen brings both hands up so he can press a quiet kiss along the knuckles, a silent 'i like this, too'. there are so many little things that he finds that he likes, small touches and gestures that he never would have taken the time to consider until he found himself here in the midst of them. )
Would you still like to sleep? ( he murmurs, the hand on his partner's jaw dropping now to rest lightly against the man's bare chest just below a collarbone. the corners of his lips curl just for a moment as he adds, ) I can read to you, if it might help.
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He does feel like sleep, somehow. The cold had drawn out so much if his energy compounded by the anxiety of what if in those moments before their lips met for the first time had him feeling groggy. He couldn't say no even if he wanted to. ]
Yeah, it might help. [ He was certain that he could fall asleep without being read to but there was something soft in the offer that he didn't want to decline. Plus, he remembered reading to Xingchen before and he still holds that memory dear. He's happy to create another. ]
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in that pocket of warmth he tucks the arm around minhuo's middle, setting the book on the empty patch of bed behind him. one might faintly be able to hear the faint shuffling of pages as he locates the page marker that the other man left, light fingers running along the first line of the page and feeling with mild relief that the lettering is, indeed, textured enough to follow along by touch. )
'Do you not realize,' the Diviner asked, 'That true divination is no longer as such the moment it touches the common world?'
( and so he begins to read quietly into the space between his face and minhuo's. the words come slowly at first, carefully, as xingchen identifies each syllable under his fingertip and moves to the next - but mercifully, he's had just enough practice in the past that the process isn't painfully slow. )
'What do you mean?' asked the Second Young Master. 'Are not you yourself a diviner?'
And the diviner said, 'I once thought that I was. I know now that the things which I divine come to pass because I have divined them. In foreseeing these things, I have forewritten them. Do you understand now?'
( as he continues to read, his voice gets steadier, the words coming more easily. the slight focused knit between his brows relaxes away, and his thumb slides affectionately along the back of his partner's. )
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As much as he desires to stay away and watch the confidence grow on Xingchen's face, the warmth their bodies share and the steady, even twinkle of Xingchen's voice lulls his eyes to close. He's still awake for the most part, hearing every word but not exactly comprehending them as much. If Xingchen were to stop reading, however, he might lift his head and ask him to continue. ]