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WHO: Yi Zhuiying and Hong Langfei
WHERE: Snowshade Peak, Longfei's Mountain in the Far North
WHEN: A few months before the burning of Cloud Recesses
WHAT: Alone, Yi Zhuiying makes his assault to assassinate the Iron Wolf and attempt to bring an end to his bandit clan once and for all. Even if he has to die doing it.
WARNINGS: Death, Death, Death, Death, DeaTH BUT AT LEAST NOT THEIRS. gore, angst, and then some h/c ... and then some sexy times apparently look they've been pent up for a long time

Even flying on his sword, it had taken Yi Zhuiying nearly two weeks to reach the mountain. It had taken him years, before that, to gather enough information to attempt this quest. For all of the Iron Wolf's rampant banditry, tracking him down had been insanely difficult. Villagers and townspeople were too scared to speak of him, and his victims too proud. Zhuiying had to piece together the information slowly and painstakingly, but eventually he succeeded.

He knew where the Wolf's den lay.

Getting there had been another issue in itself. Lan Qiren, the leader of the sect that had given Zhuiying and his family protection since childhood, had recently gone so far as to forbid his quest. His obsession, the Sect Leader had called it.

Yi Zhuiying had packed up and left the next day.

Now, he was so close that he could taste it. Vengeance had always taunted him. It seemed that no matter how much bandit blood his sword Wuqing was tempered with, it would never be sated. The wound in Zhuiying's heart could not be mended by death, no matter how many times he attempted it. Lan Qiren knew this. Lan Xichen knew this. Even Yi Zhuiying himself knew, on some level, that he was slowly destroying himself. But he couldn't stop.

Not until the Wolf was dead.

The snow started long before Zhuiying reached the base of the mountain. He had landed some time before - not wanting the Wolf's scouts to spot him in the sky on his approach. He wished that he had an army behind him, but it did not matter. Perhaps it was better, this way. This way, no one honourable or just would die for his revenge. This way, the only true life he was risking was his own.

His pure white robes usually made him easy to mark against the dark earth or the shade of the trees. Here, as he made his way up the twisting path, he blended into the snow as easily as an arctic hare. His last source of information - a bandit he had captured and the only one he had let live - had warned him of the mountain's dangers. Of the pits and traps that lay along its paths and cliffs. He couldn't give Zhuiying a map, of course, but it hardly mattered. He watched the snow for slight depressions that may indicate a hidden pit, kept his eyes peeled for ropes or spikes.

Or men.

The traps were well laid, and if he had not been so vigilant, he would have been caught long before he reached the first of Snowshade Peak's sentries. Zhuiying moved like the ghost of death itself - the first guard only getting enough time to widen his eyes and part his lips before Wuqing's edge sliced through his throat. A lance of blood strained the snow, sending a streak to stain Zhuiying's white robes. It would not be the first, tonight. He had no doubt when he reached the Wolf himself, the pristine robes of the Lan sect would more closely resemble the deep red of the Wen's. It was almost fitting, given his betrayal to their ideals. Let him be buried a traitor. It would be worth it, to end this lifelong nightmare.

The second guard fell but had just enough time to cry out, and that spelled the beginning of the end of Zhuiying's quest. He could not take his time, now. He could not hunt from the shadows. He could only carve a path of blood and death straight to the heart of the mountain. He would fall, or the Wolf. He barely cared which it was.

The third and forth men he killed by letting them chase him right to a pit trap, then taking their lives when they could not escape. The fifth was pierced through the spine with Wuqing as he tried to run, calling for help. Night was falling on the mountain and the spectre of Zhuiying was becoming more visible, his stained white robes almost glowing where they were lit by the fires that dotted the mountain side, growing brighter as the hunt for the hunter began. He could hear them call back and forth to each other as they chased him in the dark, but he only grew more determined as he went.

He barely felt the arrow that lodged itself in the shoulder of his off hand. He didn't touch it, he didn't remove it. He simply took the head of the man that had given it to him and then kept running.

He could see the lights of the camp up ahead, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He felt the earth give way under him, the pit trap opening, but he threw his sword in front of him and leapt upon it, flying up several dozen feet into the sky only to come crashing down on his next opponent. Steel met steel and sparks flew as they fought across the snow - this man far more competent than any of the others that had come before him. Zhuiying could not afford to feel exhaustion, could not afford to rest or wait, and so he fought like a tiger caged, viscous and ruthless. By the time his opponent finally fell, Zhuiying stood over his body like a vengeful wraith, eyes wild. He could hear the sound of men approaching, many of them, and he raised his bloody sword to point at them as they approached.

"I seek the Wolf," he snarled at them, though he didn't attack. Maybe they would be smart, and let him finally take this fight one-on-one. Or they would not, and he would leave a pile of corpses in his wake.

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The answer made Langfei's own breath catch in his throat, mouth going dry with desire like he'd never known, all his worldly experience be damned. It was different here, with his other half, hearing Zhuiying's voice alone enough to make him feel somehow brand new.

Zhuiying's hand was so distracting that he nearly missed those next words, a soft of gasp escaping him before his lung seized on him all over again. His grip on his lover went tight, went desperate with the way that single utterance cut into him, barely choking back the sob that wanted to come.

"...we are," he swore, voice as tight as his grip. "I swear to you. Yi Zhuiying. We are, and we'll never part again."

With a hard swallow, he kissed Zhuiying with bruising force, punctuating the promise of his words. Then he released his lover with a softer parting kiss, deft fingers reaching for a side table only to produce a ceramic jar from seemingly nowhere. Removing the cork with his teeth, he found his center again, returned to a place of playful mischief. He slicked his palm with oil before the jar vanished once more, eager to show Zhuiying just how talented he'd grown with his hands.

Letting out a shaky breath, he nudged his lover's hand away to close his hand around Zhuiying's arousal instead, touch quick and light. Cheek resting against Zhuiying's shoulder, on a whim he turned his head and sank his teeth into warm skin, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to bruise.

He returned the kiss with an answering desperation, half a heart beat from proposing on the spot.

But he didn’t need to, did he?

Either Langfei felt exactly the same way he did, in which case no words were necessary, or he would cool off in the morning and regret the evening’s intensity. And if that were true, well. Zhuiying would stay at his side anyway, through it all. Even if Langfei changed his mind, they were bound. The man could have a hundred lovers and Zhuiying wouldn’t be able to leave him, now.

So there was nothing more to say.

He chased after Langfei’s lips when they parted, though he stopped when he realised he didn’t know what the other man was doing. He watched, eyebrow raising ever so slightly, and then saw what the jar was for. He groaned lowly when he understood, allowing Langfei to move his hand, his head ducking as he felt Langfei’s fingers slick him up.

He growled lowly at the bite, a surge of arousal thrumming through him.

“Hurry,” he rasped, trying to be good and wait, but every atom in him screaming to move, to complete, to unite—

The impatience, too, was endearing. Every breath, every word, every look from Zhuiying warmed him more than the last, lending a fondness to the playful quirk of his lips as he went, just briefly, slower at that urge, his fingertips ghosting over sensitive skin in what was nothing short of a taunt.

Then he laughed there against Zhuiying's skin, soothing over the bite with a kiss, and drew his hand away. He laid back, hooking one leg over his lover's hip to pull him in. Taking one of Zhuiying's hands in his own, he guided him into position, his own breath coming short in anticipation.

"Take me, Zhuiying," he whispered, his own voice rough with want. "Don't hold back."

Every time Langfei laughed it was like a lance of fire straight through his frozen soul. Despite feeling like he was being teased, he was sure that Langfei laughing must be the greatest sound in the entire world. He would dream of that laugh, he thought, through every life time after this.

He let his hand be guided, gripping himself as Langfei positioned them, an intense heat under his cheeks. He felt caught in the middle of a whirlwind but didn't want to stop.

"Langfei--" He whispered, before slowly trying to ease himself in. The concept, at least, was easy, but there was signficant resistance at the attempt, and he bit into his own lip as he pushed --

With a groan, he felt the resistance give way, felt his cock push smoothly into Langfei's body with a pleasure he'd never really known. Despite the command, despite his own urgency, he wasn't in a rush - a little overwhelmed with the feeling as it was. He grunted as he pushed deeper, and then held as he bottomed out, fulled seated. It was intense, the tight heat of Langfei's body nearly enough to drive him mad. He wondered, now, how anyone ever got anything done, once they got a taste of this.

He closed his eyes, focusing his golden core and then pushed it outward, finding the red string as it flared around their wrists. He grasped Langfei's - still not moving otherwise - and brought that wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the pulse.

Only then did he start to move, a long, slow, deep thrust that sent a shudder down his spine.

Langfei took in a breath with a gasp and let it out in a moan, biting down on his lip as he kept himself from tensing to ease Zhuiying's way. Though his eyelids fluttered for the sweet ache of it, he kept his eyes open, kept his gaze on Zhuiying, on the unbearable intensity of his gaze. He had to savor every moment, wanted to carve his lover's touch into muscle and bone, into the very fabric of his soul.

As their string flashed back into existence, he felt emotion twist in his chest and he laughed again even as his eyes grew wet with the reminder, the simple, blissful fact of it.

This was his person, his intended.

Once Zhuiying was done kissing his wrist, he put his arms around his lovers shoulders to pull him in for another heated kiss, one he whimpered into as Zhuiying began to move. He ground back, pushing into Zhuiying's thrust, determined have him so deep he could taste it, rocking his hips into his lover's unrelenting and slow.

He was pulled down easily, taking that kiss hungrily, slightly less clumsily than he had been, desperate to learn and put that knowledge to use. Unfortunately, being able to think was near impossible.

It was all to easy to lose himself in Langfei - a peace he’d never known washing over him, a deep welling love and desire driving him to thrust deeper, the taut muscles of his back quivering with the effort as he thrust hard and deep and claiming. Every sound from Langfei’s lips only spurred him deeper, determined to hear him whimper and moan again and again and again.

He was so absolutely lost in his lover that he barely registered the sharp pain in his shoulder, the warmth starting to trickle down his skin. If anything, that sharpness just accentuated the pleasure, and a moan was drawn from his lips even as his blood began to drip onto Langfei’s chest.

It took Langfei time to notice as well, just as lost in this act of hunger and consumption. He'd never flown higher than here pinned beneath Zhuiying, every point of contact its own cleansing flame. Langfei had never known himself to be an insatiable thing, but in this moment his want was boundless, as infinite as their promised eternity. The more Zhuiying gave the more he craved, the more he wanted, needed, demanded—

He distantly registered something wet cooling upon his chest but couldn't spare it attention until he caught the scent of blood, fresh and sharp. Breath stalling, every muscle tensing down to the pull of his lungs, down to the very beat of his heart, Langfei pushed himself up on one elbow in wide-eyed panic. He reached up to grip his lover's arm, his only thought to stop Zhuiying from making it any worse.

"Zhuiying!"

Langfei's body tightened like a vice around him, spiking Zhuiying's pleasure to a dizzying height and nearly sending him completely off the edge. It felt impossibly good, but he wanted so badly to keep this going as long as he was physically capable, to make Langfei feel as good as he did--

But a second later Langfei was gasping his name and gripping his arm, and that was too much. The very fact that he'd found the man at all, that he was here, alive; his body warm and inviting; his breath panted and his eyes glazed with pleasure... It was too much.

"Langfei--" He groaned helplessly, thrusting hard and deep as he could take no more, his spine shuddering violently as he came. He couldn't stop it. Everything in the world seemed to turn to white noise as the pleasure enveloped him, his blood beginning to run in a slow trickle down his chest from his freshly-opened wound.

He thrust twice more, riding the aftershocks of his orgasm, before his arms gave out under him and he collapsed onto Langfei, smearing blood between their chests. He pressed his face hard into Langfei's throat, kissing again and again as he shivered and slowly stilled.

Zhuiying fell and Langfei caught him, briefly distracted from the fact of Zhuiying's injury by the way his lover spoke his name. He gave a low whimper of his own as he felt Zhuiying tense against him, an echo of his lover's pleasure ringing through him like a chord in harmony. He let Zhuiying rest a moment against him to come down from that high, a faint, helpless smile on his lips as he stroked over Zhuying's hair at that string of kisses.

But the wetness between them only grew, and after a count to ten he carefully eased Zhuiying out of him before rolling his lover onto his back without regard to any protest that might be forthcoming.

"Be still while I get more bandages. And if you ever want to do that again, you'll do as you're told."

Edited 2020-01-19 06:38 (UTC)

Zhuiying was surprisingly pliable, and easily rolled without a single protest until he was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the cave above, flickering in candle light, breathing hard as he tried to come back to himself.

Ah.

Yes, he was bleeding. That was what the bandages were for.

He blindly felt around his chest until he found the bandage at his shoulder, prodding it helpfully with two fingers, the bandage sodden and leaking blood. Hm. Maybe it wasn't the orgasm that was making him a little light headed, but...

He was having a really hard time caring about much of anything, right now.

With a grunt, he shifted his elbow under himself and propped himself up to look after Langfei, already having forgotten his instructions despite the warning.

"I'm alright," he murmured after him. "I must have torn the stitches, but I'm fine."

It wasn't what he wanted to say, really. He was torn between wanting to say thank you in the lamest most earnest way possible, or to tell Langfei how beautiful he was, or to complain that he had left his side. But instead he just had to say lame things about his stitches, unable to word any of the rest of it, still riding a low buzz of pleasure that has him far more mellow than usual.

"There's nothing fine about tearing your stitches," Langfei sighed, though there was a fondness in his voice that overrode his worry and irritation. He was a little flushed and breathless still, half of him still caught in the perfection of the moment just before.

Taking a seat next to Zhuiying once more, he sighed and pushed him down yet again, rolling his eyes a little as he did. That, too, was in fondness.

Cutting away the previous wrappings, Langfei put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding so he could fix the dressings, shaking his head to himself all the while.

"Once I'm done, you're taking some medicine and going to sleep. We shouldn't have gotten you so worked up," he sighed, though the warmth on his face demonstrated none of the regret in his voice.

He doesn't smile, exactly, but his eyes soften a little, letting Langfei push him back down, though he reached out to put a warm hand on the man's knee.

"Do you hear me complaining?" He rumbled lowly. "Langfei, I'm fine. I've had much worse. It will heal."

"Wounds happen every day," He continued, before giving Langfei's knee a squeeze. "Seeing you again doesn't. One of those things I care a great deal more about than the other."

"Well, that's changing. You will see me every day, and you will stop being injured," Langfei huffed with a resolute shake of his head. He gave it another few seconds, then checked Zhuiying's shoulder. Fortunately, it didn't appear that they tore it too badly with their... activities, and Langfei was able to move on to applying a numbing salve to remove the broken thread and stitch the skin closed again, which he worked on in quiet, meticulous silence.

"I'll lay with you," he offered as he finished with the stitchwork, moving on to a fresh roll of bandages. "So behave."

He drew in a long breath, finally allowing a small, soft smile at the thought of having this every day. He didn’t tell Langfei not to bother with the numbing salve - he almost never did - mostly because it was endearing to watch him fuss.

Everything in the world seemed so much more at peace than it had six hours ago. One change, one face, one man’s smile, and his world was completely turned upside down.

He was behaving. Mostly. He didn’t pull his hand away, and indeed even let it slip a little inward on the man’s thigh, though his eyes never left Langfei’s face.

“... Langfei,” he murmured softly, “I don’t want to lie still. You have given me something I have not yet returned. I won’t strain myself. Please.” His hand wandered a little further up Langfei’s thigh. “Let me.”

The smile sent a rush of reflexive joy through Langfei to see on Zhuiying's face, a dull echo of the past flaring to life in his heart as he remembered all those days they spent together out under the sun. He wound the bandage securely, fastening it off even as Zhuiying's hand grazed his thigh, causing him to start and nearly fumble the roll of bandages.

Clearing his throat, he put the first aid supplies away again, the look on his face conflicted before he finally sighed and leaned down to kiss Zhuiying lightly on the lips.

"...I'm going to stop you if I see you putting pressure on your wounds, Qiuqiu," he warned, but then gave a shy nod of his head in acceptance. "Go slow. And not the arm I just wrapped."

“You could try to stop me,” Zhuiying mused lowly against his lips, “but call me that again and you’ll see how ineffective that would be.” Roly-poly indeed. But he obediently cross his wounded arm behind his back as he sat up, keeping it out of the way, and used his good one to try to pull Langfei into his lap.

“I’ll do better next time,” he murmured as he leaned in to press a kiss to Langfei’s throat, the playfulness gone from his tone. That one was a vow. Both to be better, but also that there would be a next time.

A hundred thousand next times, if he had any say in it.

He slipped his arm lower, taking Langfei’s length back tween his long fingers, giving a soft sigh at the touch. It felt weirdly nice? The urgency that had overwhelmed him before had abated, so it was far easier now to just relax and actually feel this. To feel the solid heat but soft skin—

“Thank you,” he whispered quietly. “For not allowing me to lose this.”

For saving him from himself.

Langfei's throat went tight with emotion a those softly spoken words, nodding solemnly in acceptance of that gratitude even though he found it more than he was due.

"Thank you for remembering me," he murmured in turn, rolling his shoulders back as he melted into that gentle touch, a sigh of bone-deep contentment escaping his lips. He'd taken many lovers to his bed over the years, enjoyed himself well enough, but to even Zhuiying's inexpert touch there was just no comparison. Because Zhuiying's touch carried his intensity, his devotion, burned bright with the love Langfei knew his destined carried within him, had carried all these years in spite of the cost.

"Mm, Zhuiying," he let out in a low croon, just to savor the sound as he rocked himself into his lover's hand, eyes fluttering briefly shut as he felt his pleasure build, felt it coming to a crest as he tangled a hand in Zhuiying's hair, focused in on the the look in Zhuiying's eyes, the low rumble of his voice. With another gasp, he spilled into his lover's hand with only a breath of warning.

It took a little while to find a good rhythm, but Langfei left no doubt in his mind as to when he found it. It was a little awe-inspiring, to watch him like this, and by the time Langfei finally came in his hand, he was already starting to stiffen a little. Thankfully the blood loss wasn't going to let that one happen too quick.

He pulled his hand away, unable to help his curiosity as he raised it to his lips, darting his tongue out for a quick taste. Oh. It was... oddly nice, actually.

He wondered if that was just because it was Langfei, or not.

He reached for a clean cloth to wipe down his hand, and then carefully wiped down Langfei, too. Once done, he cupped his lover's face gently and stole a soft kiss.

"Let me tomorrow, too?"

"If you're a very good patient for me, I'll consider it," Langfei teased lightly, finding that he felt a strange, reflexive flush of warmth at seeing Zhuiying venture a taste of him, finding it both endearing and just a little sweat-inducing. The lack of displeasure or disapproval too, left him briefly biting down on his lip. And then all that melted away for that warm hand against his face, in the tenderness of Zhuiying's touch and the simple pleasure of that kiss.

"Come," he invited in a whisper, smiling as he pressed their foreheads together to bask for a moment in this peace. "It's time for sleep."

He had his next words ready in his mind, but as soon as he tried to speak them he found them catching in his throat.

"I..." He laughed, a tight and mournful sound. "Do you remember... holding hands while we slept when we were little? I never let myself hope that we'd do it again."

Zhuiying made a low noise of complaint, as sleeping was far from his mind despite the exhaustion that permeated to his very core. But it was hard to voice said complaint with Langfei pressed so close, forehead to forehead, still able to feel the head of his body just from proximity.

He reached out to find Langfei's hand, threading their fingers together and then gripping tightly.

"Yes," he murmured, his voice dropping low and breathy, near a whisper. "... I barely slept, without it. They had to play for me to sleep at all, for a year." He gripped a little tighter. "... I should have known you were alive. I should have believed it."

"...don't say that, Zhuiying. Then what excuse do I have? I knew. I knew you lived. I see now that it was selfishness that kept me away," he whispered tightly in return, holding his soulmate's hand back just as fast. Though his thoughts dart across his own past, his own early years of loss, he made no mention. The memories weren't worth burdening Zhuiying with, weren't worth the breath it would take to speak them.

All that mattered was they they were together once more, once again, for always.

"Come along, then. We've a great deal of catching up to do," he went on softly, bringing Zhuiying's hand up to kiss his knuckles, eyes never once leaving his lover's own. "I will have to hold your hand for the next year straight at least to even start to make up for lost time. How are you at fighting one-handed...?"

He's pretty sure that isn't true. He's caught a glimpse of the life Langfei has led, even if he doesn't fully understand it, yet. He's pretty sure it's more than selfishness that has kept them apart. But the words silence his own misgivings, and he just presses close, gripping tight.

"I'll adapt." Despite his lovers' tease, his reply was as straight faced as anything. It was a childish thing, maybe, but he didn't want to ever let go of Langfei if he didn't have to.

But the exhaustion was only deepening, and though he was fighting to keep awake, fighting to keep his eyes on Langfei, he could feel it trying to drag him into the depths.

He wondered if maybe he would be free of nightmares, tonight.

"... Langfei." Quiet, murmured. A pause. And then he leaned that extra few inches, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I won't let you go, again."

"And even if we do part," Langfei promised in return without thought or hesitation, pulling Zhuiying in close, flush against his chest, "I'll always come find you again."

Dragging a warm comforter over them both, he tucked it around Zhuiying until he was sure there weren't any drafts, checked one last time to make sure none of his soulmate's injuries were bleeding, then finally settled himself down to sleep. He kissed Zhuiying one more time, then slowly allowed his eyes to drift shut as he did his best to memorize the fair features of Zhuiying's face, determined to carry it with him into slumber.

He did not toss or turn that night, scarcely even stirred, even in sleep focused on the singular task of defending Zhuiying from all that might haunt him in the night.

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