#bloodrainbloom

Eight hundred years of walking along the soil where dynasties were built and crumble all the same, wandering in idleness with the weight of repentance with no expectation for forgiveness ,    his very self,  turning away from the heavens in shame and acceptance── has become a footnote in the sands of time. never to blossom once more, and he too, had accepted that. The lonesome days where the reminder of his long life becomes glaringly obvious and all he could say is that he had wasted time. 

So when the morning light spills through the slats so audaciously and wraps around the peaks of his cheek like a reminder against his skin, he remembers where he is, grounds himself in the moment of now, and the unpleasant weight melts away as those sunrays give warmth. He leaves it behind when he finds that he doesn’t mind the slight chill that Hua Cheng emits ,   shivering momentarily when those cool lips tease against his waiting mouth. Eyes flutter open ,  and he’s met with the expectant mien of Hua Cheng’s visage, and allows a smile of his own to mirror his.   He indulges him, helping to keep his legs spread, lifting his arms to wind them against his neck and curl against robes as crimson as the downpour he commands, to pull him closer. Like a puzzle piece, he fits between the cage of his legs to perfectly, rouge peppering his cheeks at the greeting and the offer that came after. 

“I do...”  he breathes, and places a daring kiss of his own against the bow of his lips.  “I wonder what San Lang has for me?”  he inquires ── ‘innocently’, fingers thread through miles of his tresses that heed to his ministrations like a languid sea, and it is only when Hua Cheng moves against his form lower ... lower he ventures, his grasp tightens a fraction in anticipation ,    a growing need pulses a steady rhythm as he’s unfurled in the best way, layers falling away until the skin on his nether region revealed to spilling light, the draft of the quiet shrine brushes along his skin, and Hua Cheng’s fingers pause in question against his thigh when Xie Lian shifts just slightly, “Yes, San Lang, please..”  He affirms, because Hua Cheng needs to hear him say it,   needs that permission to sate an ache as he bobs his hips upwards just slightly, and then Hua Cheng continues, fingers tracing along the planes of his skin to curl a hand against his neglected cock, aching between them.

Slickness spills little by little against the tip with each experimental pump, Xie Lian’s lips part on an opened mouth keen, fingers tighten momentarily against his hair, hands that have known strife, endured calamity, had allowed blood to bloom like camellias that fall so suddenly, now cradling the most precious thing he deems, holding him as if anything,  something dares to force him to part. 

Breath hitches as he’s then engulfed in warmth, the deception of his need crumbles with each inch that that mouth that just moments before spared such honeyed words, mischievous as he surrounds him, until all Xie Lian can fathom is the tendrils that brush against his thigh.  Hua Cheng's mouth on him, around him, that libertine tongue carrying him to the peaks little by little.  Xie Lian  bites his lip, hymns of his pleasured noises trapped behind a pursed mouth, and that action incites a shift in Hua Cheng’s attention── from reverence to devouring; an inquiry to the cacophony of his delectation. 

He promptly unfurls his right hand against the crown of his head to find his hand, the pads of his fingers brushing against his knuckles and that very same hand surrenders under his silent plea,   sober in juxtaposition to the sounds that spills forth from his throat and the way his hips move in tight motions under the attention of his mouth, meeting every bob,   reaching deeper than he had ever imagined.  Eyes glazed over and peering at his beloved’s ample countenance,   concentrated,   and when Hua Cheng finds Xie Lian’s gaze fixed on him, it spurs a determination to make him come faster.  Xie Lian slots his fingers between Hua Cheng’s fingers,   the contact grounding as he spills in the back his throat, shaky moans filling the silence of the space hidden from the countryside dawn. 

His body deflates, pressed into the sheets as he floats along the eye of the storm, breathing steadying through the high. His heart pounds against his chest still, breaths heaving and quieting as everything settles and his eyes open to find Hua Cheng leaning over him, face twisted in concern, only relaxing when Xie Lian lifts a weary hand to cup his face, moving to curl against his nape to bring his lips to his, tasting himself against dampened skin,  and then he pulls away for much needed air, an arm winds around Hua Cheng’s shoulders to lower his body, to lay his head against his chest, rising and falling.   

“I loved your present,  as always ,   San Lang always surprises me,”  he praises, voice hoarse with use, smiling when Hua Cheng noses against the back of his head in response, just right behind his ear.   Xie Lian’s hand idly run along his hair again, scratching against his scalp. “I love you,” he whispers, and listens as the wind rustles the trees outside. Ah.  This is their handmade heaven, and Xie Lian would spend eternity to protect it, to protect him as he had for centuries.

Perhaps at the moment such a light hearted prank would be a good idea ,   hiding in the security of the small kitchen’s walkway until the familiar gait of Hua Cheng’s footsteps draw nearer ,   delivering a face full of the cake’s heavy frosting to his face. It’s a good idea when he laughs ,  but not when the birthday celebrant wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him closer like a sticky koala on its branch ,    and presses his icing - caked face into his own ,   dragging him too ,  into the mess of whipped toppings. 

It’s how Xie Lian finds them both cramped in the small bathroom ,   Hua Cheng sat obediently on a stool as Xie Lian takes a warm damp cloth to his face ,   clearing away pieces of that dessert to reveal the handsome visage beneath ,   gentle in the caress of his hands ,   like handling glass between his fingers.  Hua Cheng’s eye is closed ,  relaxed as he rests the weight of his weary head on  Xie Lian’s calloused palm.  the thin cloth is a thin boundary of skin against skin ,   but  Xie Lian is diligent as he wipes away the remaining pieces of icing from the point of his cheeks to the bow of his lips ,    against his brow ,   to the slope of his nose ––——  it’s a matter that requires attention ,  he must look closely should he miss a spot!

“Is gege staring?”  Hua Cheng suddenly says ,    a teasing lilt to his baritone brings  Xie Lian back to the present ,  ah ,   did he get distracted ?? how embarrassing ,  warmth spreads to his cheeks as he finishes cleaning his face ,   pressing a fleeting kiss to his nose.  “How could i not? my San Lang is very handsome,”  he rationalizes ,  feels Hua Cheng’s smile ‘neath his fingers as he douses his countenance with warm water before working that towel through his hair ,   cleaning the icing off each dark tendril ,   gently tugging as he finishes up ,   cleaning what little pieces of icing clung to his face and running his hands under the sink,  tossing the towel into the laundry hamper and leading Hua Cheng to the cozy sitting area ,   pushing on his shoulders to sit him down and disappearing into the kitchen ,   cutting a piece of cake for himself and the birthday celebrant ,  padding back to settle down ,  shoulder to shoulder. 

“Happy birthday,” Xie Lian cheers ,   picking up the fork and slicing a small piece and bringing the dessert up against his lips ,   and obediently takes the cake into his mouth ,  smiling cutely.  “   i wish san lang good health,  ”   he adds ,   and picks up his own plate to eat. Food always tastes better with company, and this celebration has gotten him to reminisce ,   the years he has been together with san lang ,   the many firsts ——— holding hands on the roof of that crummy old apartment, kisses shared in the secrecy of a dimly lit bedroom ,   where not even the most daring sunrays can penetrate drawn curtains,  hiding away as if the world would take the other away. of meetings in the dark ,  pressed so closely that they almost meld into one. The many ways in which Hua Cheng pulls him away from spirals of abyss ,   and he too ,   holding one another when words fail ,  where words become too much and the other’s touch, no matter how feather-like is enough to haul them away from such distasteful thoughts. 

Xie Lian watches him, and in spite of everything ,  he can’t help but reach out, like the first time, not to cling onto him against destiny, but to merely tuck a stray strand away and behind his ear,  so a drop of icing can’t dare to stain his form. 

Xie Lian finds that, while lamenting on another year and celebrating in space where they are allowed to just be ;  he wants to grow old with him. Another year,  that same greeting, wishing hi good health for the coming years. He can picture it, where oaken tresses gray, stark against dazzling starlight, can imagine it in the ritual Xie Lian wakes up in morning’s soft rain ,   braiding Hua Cheng’s hair while looking into his eye through the vanity ,  the first wrinkle ,  more to come as the autumnal leaves tremble in the winds. But for now,  Xie Lian faces the present, sees him in slow motion in spite of how fast the time flies, the sun dipping low between mountains and trees. 

“Gege seems deep in thought,  would you spare me your musings?”  his fingers curl over Xie Lian’s hand, where it paused against the shell of his ear to press his lips against each knuckle,  couching it with his other hand against his lap. 

Xie Lian lets out a huff of laughter, he has no need to hide such brazen proclamations, he believes he has found ‘forever’ with him, leans in to press his lips against Hua Cheng’s now,  free hand curling around the nape of his neck to prolong their join, pulling away for air,  feeling his breath fanning against his tingling lips. 

“I love you so much,”  he says instead. The cake sits forgotten,  but Xie Lian cares little about that dessert now, focused only to press his lips against that skin for how long he wants to, he can say it so easily, like a melody that the morning birds envy, and punctuating each proclamation with a kiss here, the curl of his lip, over his eyes. 

“I want to grow old with you.”   Xie Lian says, finally, and Hua Cheng stares at him with a loving gaze, and he can imagine that smile hurts, as if glued permanently on his mien.  Xie Lian wants,  so recklessly, so passionately, to be able to see him like that every waking dawn, even if doing the most mundane tasks side by side.  “It’s silly... but I want to be able to wake up and brush your hair, to pluck out the grey hairs that grow in.. ”