Chapter Text
General Yan Wushi surveys the aftermath of the short battle from his horse.
After getting news of a caravan bound to the to the Qi emperor, his troop defeated the accompanying guards with an almost insulting ease. According to the scroll found on one of the dead bodies, they were transporting gifts for the emperor. A proof of our devotion and goodwill towards his majesty, the letter read. The smug arrogance in those words puts even Yan Wushi to shame.
“Master!”
Yan Wushi looks up from the scroll to see Yu Shengyan running towards him. “Yes?”
“Master! I looked through the carriages and there are treasures everywhere. There is also, uh,” Yu Shengyan looks to the side, flushing, “there is a, uh…” He scratches at the side of his nose, unwilling to continue. Yan Wushi’s eyebrow rises.
“There is a man,” Bian Yanmei helpfully supplies.
Yan Wushi’s eyebrow stays raised. “And? Did you kill him?”
His disciples exchange a look. “No,” Yu Shengyan, even more flushed now, admits.
“Perhaps master should come look,” Bian Yanmei adds.
Shaking his head, Yan Wushi gets off his horse and approaches the carriage they indicate. He opens the door, looks inside, and freezes.
There is a man inside, yes.
There is a man, tossed in the carriage, hogtied, gagged, and unconscious.
He is breathtakingly beautiful.
He is dressed in an embroidered sheer red robe that would look almost insultingly vulgar on anyone else. On this man, it transforms him into a delicacy; a gift to be unwrapped.
Yan Wushi looks at the scroll still clutched in his hand. “A proof of our devotion and goodwill towards his majesty,” he reads again with a derisive snort. “You poor bastard,” he mutters to himself and gets into the carriage.
He checks the man’s wrist and frowns. There is a poison coursing through his veins, keeping him weak and unconscious. Yan Wushi counts in his head, comparing where the ambush happened and how far from the Qi capital they were. He hums in amusement. “Someone wanted to keep you out until you arrived to Gao Wei. Interesting. I wonder why.” He runs his hands over the man’s limbs, feeling the muscles underneath the soft, supple skin, with interest.
He gives him a deep, searching look, then smirks. He collects the man in his arms and jumps off, walking back towards his men. “Alright. You take the caravan to Yuwen Yong with my greetings. I didn’t find any distinctive information on these men nor the carriages, so I’m taking our friend here,” he lifts the unconscious man a little, “and will be extricating information from him. I’d like to know who is supporting Gao Wei with such gifts.”
Bian Yanmei nods and leaves to collect their troop. Yu Shengyan stares at where the man’s silky robes hitched up to reveal a soft thigh. He is still flushed. “Master, are you going to…” he trails off, but then he notices Yan Wushi’s raised brow. He flails. “Nothing! Nothing! I’m going! Goodbye!” he shouts and runs away.
Yan Wushi looks at the man in his arms and laughs. This was going to be interesting.
—
Yan Wushi installs the man in his bed and carefully unbinds the ropes, massaging the marks they left on the otherwise unblemished skin. He sneers at whoever bound the man. Someone like this should be put into exquisite ropework to enhance his beauty, not this haphazard- Yan Wushi grits his teeth. He rubs ointment over the angry red lines on the man’s limbs and caresses the bruises on his face left by the gag. He pinches his chin and turns his head to the sides, considering. Beautiful. Truly beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips and cheeks dusted with freckles. He would’ve been wasted on Gao Wei.
He throws away the red robe and dresses him in a simple white robe, the material soft and thin, thinking how this suits the man better.
From his body, Yan Wushi is fairly sure the man is a warrior too.
He collars the man. The collar is metal, strong and durable, with a chain running towards the bedpost. He doesn’t want the man running away before he gets his answers, after all.
—
It takes several days for the poison to run its course and for the man to wake up. He wakes up with a gasp, trying to sit up and immediately choking on the collar, coughing. Yan Wushi, waiting on the side to see what he was going to do, sits down on the bed next to him and puts his hand on the man’s chest, pushing him down. The man blinks, immediately grabbing his wrist. “Wh-” he rasps out. His eyes squint at Yan Wushi, confused.
Yan Wushi pushes him down harder. “Calm down. I’m General Yan Wushi, of the Huanyue sect, working with the Zhou emperor. We found you in a caravan bound to the emperor of Qi.” The man’s eyes were darting around in panic, but at the last piece of information, his gaze sharpened. His brows furrowed. Yan Wushi grinned, smelling blood in the air.
He unhooks the collar chain from the bedpost and tugs at it until the man stumbles out of the bed and onto his knees in front of Yan Wushi’s chair. Yan Wushi sits down, playing with the end of the chain. “You’re here to answer my questions, you understand?”
The man seems lost in thought and Yan Wushi yanks the chain to get his attention. His hands fly to the collar, his eyes filling with tears, but he looks him straight in the eyes. Good.
“Do you understand?”
“...Yes.”
“Perfect.” Yan Wushi sits back. “Let’s start with your name. Who are you, beautiful?”
The man swallows nervously. “My name is Shen Qiao.”
He looks at Yan Wushi from beneath his lashes, and Yan Wushi likes what he sees. “My A-Qiao,” he says, smug, and grins at the flush that spreads on the other’s cheeks. “Where are you from, A-Qiao?”
A-Qiao squeezes his mouth shut and avoids his gaze. Oh no, no, no, that won’t do. He yanks at the chain, unbalancing A-Qiao, tripping him onto the chair. Yan Wushi leans down and grabs his chin. “A-Qiao, I asked you a question,” he growls.
Eyelashes quivering at the sudden pain, he looks Yan Wushi in the eyes, before they flutter closed and he exhales softly. His voice is beautiful and quiet when he speaks. “Xuandu Mountain. I,” he trails off for a moment, “I was a disciple there.”
Yan Wushi frowns. “Never heard of it. Is it a hidden sect?”
“Yes…”
“What are your sect’s connections to the Qi emperor?”
A-Qiao’s eyes slide open, bitterness clear on his face. “I wasn’t aware of any until today.”
Yan Wushi sighs. He strokes A-Qiao’s face soothingly, wiping aways the tears gathering at the corners of his beautiful eyes. “A-Qiao, ah my A-Qiao. Someone back home really despised you, didn’t they?”
Their eyes meet for a long, quiet moment. Yan Wushi slides his hand into A-Qiao’s hair, running his fingers through the silky strands. The other man closes his eyes again, lost in the sensation. Yan Wushi smiles as he wraps his hand around a lock, tugging gently. “Do you even know what was going to happen to you? You have no idea, do you?”
He sketches out the image of Gao Wei, his taste for rape and torture, the way he sells his lovers to others once he bores of them, to do with as they please. How cruel he is. “That’s who you were sent to. You were poisoned to wake up only after arriving at his palace.”
A-Qiao is staring at him now. There is fear in his eyes, yes, but something else too. Heartbreak, Yan Wushi would guess.
He slides off the chair and kneels in front of A-Qiao, stroking his nape. “Oh A-Qiao, don’t worry. You are mine now. I won’t let anyone else hurt you.”
His flush spreading, A-Qiao’s body starts trembling. In fear and… Maybe something else. He tries looking away and Yan Wushi tsks, the hand on his nape stopping him.
“I am just curious,” Yan Wushi muses, his thumb stroking A-Qiao’s nape, making the trembling worse, “why they sent you as the gift. Gao Wei likes his beauties unspoiled. He enjoys ruining them himself.” His head tilts, expression predatory. “Is it possible that a beauty like you has been completely untouched?” His eyes grow darker. “I think I would like that.”
A-Qiao takes a deep, trembling breath. “I-” he tries, then squeezes his mouth shut.
“Oh no, that won’t do,” Yan Wushi tsks. He pushes a thumb into his mouth, forcing it open. “You answer me when I ask you a question.” He strokes his nape again. “Well?”
A-Qiao closes his eyes and exhales. 'Yes...' he whispers, barely audible.
“Oh, good boy, A-Qiao,” Yan Wushi croons. He presses his thumb down on his tongue, making him choke, saliva dripping down the sides of his mouth.
Chasing it, Yan Wushi slides his hand to his throat, smearing the saliva as he goes. His fingers press into his throat above the collar, and A-Qiao’s breath hitches.
He looks on, his gentle smile at odds with the predatory glint in his eyes. He watches A-Qiao’s chest heave. “Oh A-Qiao, look at yourself. You like this.”
A-Qiao shakes his head weakly, unconvincingly. Yan Wushi is elated.
He cups his cheeks. “Tell me no, A-Qiao. I will take you to bed. Tell me no.”
A-Qiao's eyes widen.
His mouth falls open, soft panting filling the space between them. His eyes slide to the side, his mouth moving voicelessly.
And then his body settles. He looks into Yan Wushi's eyes, searching for something. Yan Wushi doesn't know if he finds it. He hopes he does.
Eventually, A-Qiao closes his eyes, and leans into his hands slightly.
Yan Wushi is unprepared for the heady feeling of triumph that overtakes him.
He grins wolfishly and tugs A-Qiao to him, devouring him in a kiss, his head spinning as A-Qiao moans into his mouth. He plunges his tongue deep, angling A-Qiao where he wants him by the hand in his hair.
A-Qiao's hands clutch at his robes desperately, holding on for dear life. He slides his nimble fingers up his chest, to entwine them around Yan Wushi's neck.
Not pausing the kiss, he hitches A-Qiao into his lap, easily manhandling his slight body until he has him where he wanted him. A-Qiao's soft freckled thighs framing Yan Wushi's waist, his spread legs hitching up the thin robe he was wearing.
In this position, Yan Wushi could feel how hard he is affecting A-Qiao. He slides one arm around his waist to keep him in place, the other fumbling at the ties of the thin robe A-Qiao is wearing. The material of the robe is so soft, it's almost translucent, and Yan Wushi praises himself for his foresight. A-Qiao should always be wearing translucent robes Yan Wushi chose for him, he decides.
He breaks the kiss and pushes the robe open to see his newly unwrapped gift. His head spins with lust, looking down at A-Qiao, the way he looks so wrecked, the way his mouth hangs open as he pants, drool drooping down his chin, his lips bruised, flush spreading across his chest.
And of course, his dick, flushed, hard and twitching under Yan Wushi's gaze.
He grabs A-Qiao’s nape roughly, and then massages it. “Look how hard you are, baobei. You're beautiful,” he marvels.
A-Qiao looks down at the mess they've made of him and then back up at Yan Wushi, his expression painfully vulnerable, and something breaks in Yan Wushi. He cradles his face and presses a long, tender kiss to his forehead.
He gathers A-Qiao closer to him, letting him tighten his hold on Yan Wushi and rest his head on his shoulder. Yan Wushi kisses the side of his head and grabs his dick.
A-Qiao shudders against him and Yan Wushi puts his free hand on his lower back, rubbing in circles soothingly. His other hand starts fisting his dick, jerking A-Qiao fast and tight, his pace unrelenting. Rubbing his cheek against Yan Wushi’s, A-Qiao keeps hiccupping little moans right into his ear, high pitched and needy, his thighs squeezing him in little jerks. Yan Wushi has never been so turned on in his life.
He turns his head to the site and bites at A-Qiao’s ear. “Come for me, baobei. Come for me,” he breathes, and A-Qiao comes with a scream and a bite to his shoulder.
Shocked, Yan Wushi grinds up into A-Qiao, forcing a moan out of him.
At his absolute limit, he hooks his hands under A-Qiao’s thighs, standing up fluidly and marching on to the bed, where he drops his lover onto the sheets and crawls after him.
He peppers his face with kisses, running his hands down his sides, his neck, his chest, while A-Qiao’s rapid heartbeat settles down from the high of his orgasm. He kisses slowly behind his ear until A-Qiao is squirming underneath him again.
“A-Qiao,” he whispers in his ear, “I want you to suck my dick. I need to see you choke on my dick. You will do that for me, won't you?”
A-Qiao’s gaze searches him out, looking him deep into his eyes. Both of their chests are heaving, the two of them panting, breathing the same air. A-Qiao’s hand rises, touching his cheek lightly, before he nods.
Yan Wushi kisses him deeply.
He then crawls over A-Qiao, sitting on his chest, pushing him deeper into the mattress, enjoying the surprised oof A-Qiao lets out. He unties his exquisite purple robes, one layer after another, and throws them to the ground, appreciating the hungry gaze A-Qiao looks at his chest with. He palms his dick through his trousers and grins when he sees A-Qiao’s gaze slide down, eyes widening. “That’s right, A-Qiao. This is all just for you,” he croons, and pushes his dick out, letting it bounce against his stomach. A-Qiao’s mouth drops open in astonishment, stroking Yan Wushi’s ego.
Enough preamble. He kneels closer and pushes A-Qiao’s arms above his head, crossing the wrists and holding them there with one hand. With the other, he guides his dick to A-Qiao’s mouth, tapping the tip against his soft, warm lips, pushing them apart, sliding in roughly.
A-Qiao chokes around his girth, his beautiful lips stretched, and freckled cheeks flushed and hollowed, and it’s possibly the most erotic sight Yan Wushi has ever seen.
He leans forward, thrusting shallowly, before he’s spurned on by A-Qiao’s choked little moans, thrusting harder, deeper. His clear lack of experience doesn’t matter to Yan Wushi, because seeing him laid out like this underneath him, arms struggling in his grasp while his dick disappeared down his throat, meant that Yan Wushi wouldn’t be lasting long. He runs his hands through A-Qiao’s soft hair, cradling his head, whispering soft, filthy encouragements. A-Qiao looks up at him, maintaining eye contact as he sucks and Yan Wushi groans, thrusts even deeper, and stays there for a moment that feels like eternity, before he takes pity on A-Qiao and pulls out, coming all over his chest, painting his flushed skin with white.
Transfixed by the sight, he runs a finger through a string of come and holds it up to A-Qiao’s mouth. After a moment of dazed panting, he shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, letting Yan Wushi push it in. He drags the finger across his tongue, watches it curl around him, and despite having just come, he feels his dick twitch again.
He pulls the finger out with a pop and dives back into a kiss, able to taste himself. That just spurns him on more. With the hungry edge take off, the kisses turn slow and languid, Yan Wushi lavishing attention on A-Qiao’s bruised lips, nipping and licking. He’s laying on A-Qiao fully, weighing him down, grounding him. A-Qiao bends his knees, bracketing them, their lower bodies bumping against each other, sending jolts of pleasure through Yan Wushi’s limbs.
Growing bolder, A-Qiao lets his hands roam too. Stroking them down Yan Wushi’s chest, his slender fingers dance around his tits, cupping them, seemingly transfixed by the way they bounce in his hands. Glancing up at him, he rubs a nipple experimentally and Yan Wushi growls and devours him in a hungry kiss again. He snakes an arm under his waist, pushing A-Qiao closer, their dicks grinding together. A-Qiao moans into his mouth, still stubbornly fondling his tits.
“A-Qiao. Baobei. You're going to get fucked through the bed if you keep at this,” he growls through gritted teeth.
Maintaining eye contact and raising an eyebrow, A-Qiao flicks his nipple again.
Yan Wushi has had enough.
He grabs A-Qiao around the waist and flips him over. Grabbing a pillow, he stuffs it under his hips and racks his robe up over his ass, giving him a perfect view. “My A-Qiao will get what he wants.” He strokes the soft flesh, dragging his nails down a perfect cheek. A-Qiao lets out a low moan. “My A-Qiao will get everything he wants.”
A-Qiao looks at him from over his shoulder, rising up on his elbows, his expression so dazed that Yan Wushi wants to crawl to him and kiss him senseless. Instead, he strikes the asscheek, admiring the red imprint of his hand, then running his hand over it soothingly. He repeats the action, switching sides, until A-Qiao is a shaking mess under him. He kneads his ass thoughtfully. “You really love this, don’t you? You were born for this.” He slaps his ass again, the sound loud and clear between them. “To be my little slut. To bounce on my dick.”
The arms go out from under A-Qiao and he crashes to the bed with a choked yelp. He hides his face in the pillow and Yan Wushi laughs, full of glee. “Don’t hide, A-Qiao. You love this.”
A-Qiao just burrows deeper into the pillow, and Yan Wushi grins. He reaches over and yanks at the collar’s chain, making A-Qiao look at him. “You love it. Say it.”
He tries to hide his face, but Yan Wushi won't have any of that. He leans over, pressing his chest into him. “A-Qiao, I asked you a fucking question.”
Under him, A-Qiao struggles, trying to buck him off with no luck. His head drops to the pillow, ears glowing red. “Yes,” he finally agrees.
Yan Wushi grins triumphantly. 'Yes what?' he croons with delight.
A-Qiao is flushed everywhere Yan Wushi can see. “Yes... I want to bounce on your dick,” he manages to grit out.
Triumphant, he grabs his chin and kisses him, quick and dirty. “Good boy,” he whispers into his ear.
He gets off him and reaches over for a bottle of oil. He pours a generous amount over his hand, letting the surplus drip down A-Qiao’s crack. He smears his palm all over A-Qiao’s ass, squeezing hard. “I will make you feel so good.” He thumbs at his hole, teasing the entrance. He feels more than hears A-Qiao’s shudder. “You will be ruined for anyone else.” He circles his entrance and pushes in two fingers roughly, making A-Qiao cry out. He crooks his fingers. “That’s okay, though. You’re mine. Mine alone.”
Yan Wushi starts fucking him, fingers pushing in and out at a punishing pace with vigor, knuckles slapping against A-Qiao’s ass. His other hand lays possessively on A-Qiao’s lower back, holding him in place, his thumb rubbing his spine.
A-Qiao is trashing under him, making fucked out little noises, his voice hoarse, and Yan Wushi tells himself to be patient. He wants to drag this out as much as possible. This isn’t about his pleasure anymore.
He slides his fingers out and easily flips A-Qiao over again, revealing his absolutely wrecked visage. His face is red and sweaty, his chest is flushed and smeared in dried cum. His dick is hard and leaking. He shakily lifts his hands to cover his mouth in embarrassment. Yan Wushi’s heart sings at the sight.
He did this.
He slides his hands up A-Qiao’s quivering legs, fingers dancing on the soft freckled skin of his inner thighs. “My A-Qiao looks so beautiful like this.”
His eyes shine as he looks back at Yan Wushi from behind his hands. The muscles in his thighs twitch beneath his touch. Yan Wushi grins and lays down between his legs, maintaining their gaze, and swallows A-Qiao’s dick.
A-Qiao bucks with a shout, showing his dick down Yan Wushi’s throat, and he rides out the pain with glee.
He lavishes attention on him, licking and stroking until A-Qiao is a whimpering mess under him. He squeezes his thighs around his head and Yan Wushi rewards him by pushing his fingers back into his ass, fucking him in tandem with his bobbing head.
A-Qiao’s desperate shouts fill the room.
Yan Wushi releases his dick and kisses the inside of his knee. “A-Qiao. Baobei. Come for me,” he whispers, before taking him in his mouth again, and A-Qiao comes in his mouth with a scream.
He chokes down as much of his cum as possible, and then licks him clean. He waits for A-Qiao to stop trembling before he crawls up his body and kisses him deep, making A-Qiao taste himself, licking deep into his mouth. A-Qiao moans around him and clutches at his chest, halfway between trying to push him off and dragging him closer.
He runs his hands up and down his sides, stroking the soft muscles there. He nips at his neck, grinning into his skin. “A-Qiao,” he whispers into his ear. “A-Qiao.”
“Yes,” A-Qiao pants desperately. He feels completely boneless in his arms. “Yes,” he repeats and seeks out Yan Wushi’s mouth himself.
He lifts himself up above A-Qiao and looks down at him. He smiles. “A-Qiao.”
A-Qiao wraps his arms around his neck. “Yes,” he replies again.
Yan Wushi can’t stop grinning. He unwraps A-Qiao’s arms from around him and presses a lingering kiss to his palm. “Good boy,” he praises him again. “You are so good for me, A-Qiao.”
A strange look crosses A-Qiao’s face, but it disappears when Yan Wushi presses more kisses to his hands, replaced by a soft, shy smile.
Yan Wushi strikes his knuckles down his cheek in a caress. “My beautiful A-Qiao. I’m going to fuck you now.”
A-Qiao grabs his hand. “Yes.” He looks up through his lashes. “Please.”
He kisses his forehead. “Everything my A-Qiao asks for, he will get.”
He seats himself back between A-Qiao’s legs. He grabs the bottle of oil and slicks himself up generously. He gives A-Qiao’s dick few strokes and it twitches with exhausted interest. His A-Qiao has a beautiful stamina. Yan Wushi smiles with mischief. He wants A-Qiao completely fucked out by the time he’s done with tonight.
Grabbing him by the ankles, he lifts A-Qiao’s legs over his shoulders, folding him in half. “I’m so lucky my A-Qiao is so flexible,” he teases while A-Qiao lets himself be manhandled into position, panting shallowly. He lines himself up to A-Qiao’s entrance, before pushing in all the way.
A-Qiao bites down on his fist to muffle a scream and Yan Wushi gives them a moment before he starts moving again. The sensation is overwhelming, A-Qiao’s heat overpowering, and he doesn’t want it to be over so soon.
Yan Wushi slides out before slamming back in, again and again. After some angling, he finds A-Qiao’s sweet spot and pounds into it mercilessly, his pace unrelenting.
Finally, A-Qiao can't take it anymore. Overwhelmed, his eyes fill with tears and he starts clawing at Yan Wushi’s arms. “Please,” he begs, “please.”
Yan Wushi kisses the inside of his knee. “Please what, baobei?”
“Please,” A-Qiao sobs, clutching at Yan Wushi’s hair, “I need you to hold me. Please hold me.”
His heart jumps into his throat and he makes a loud, choked off sound. Before he knows it, he’s letting A-Qiao’s legs down and he’s lifting him up into his lap, gathering him in his arms, holding him tight to his chest.
A-Qiao wraps his shaking legs around his waist, hiding his face in the crook of Yan Wushi’s neck, his arms clutching at his back. He’s breathing in deep, breath shaky.
He runs his hands down A-Qiao’s back, giving him a moment. He hooks one arms around his waist, swaying them gently from side to side, his other hand stroking his head. “Okay?”
A-Qiao rubs his face against his shoulder. “It is… a lot… Feels very good, though,” he mumbles with some difficulty. He takes a deep breath, his lips moving against the sensitive skin beneath Yan Wushi’s ear. “You can… continue now…”
The hand in A-Qiao’s hair scratches his scalp and Yan Wushi presses a kiss to his temple. “Good boy,” he whispers into his hair.
He grab’s his ass and slides back in, the two of them groaning in unison, and he starts fucking into him again.
It doesn't take long. A-Qiao feels divine around his dick and with every thrust, he rubs himself against Yan Wushi’s tits and his sensitive nipples. Feeling himself nearing the edge, he wraps a hand around A-Qiao’s dick and jerks twice before A-Qiao is coming against him, clenching around his dick so hard that Yan Wushi follows right after.
With their chests pressed against each other, he feels how hard A-Qiao’s heart is beating. He noses at his hair, content and sated. He chuckles gently. “You did amazing, baobei.”
A-Qiao says nothing, just tightens his arms around him. Yan Wushi strokes his back. “Okay?”
A-Qiao still says nothing, just strokes his fingers over his nape. Yan Wushi frowns. He opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, and that's when A-Qiao hits his major acupoint.
His eyes widen in shock as he feels his body slump in A-Qiao's grasp.
A-Qiao doesn't let him fall. Instead, he holds him for a moment before gently extricating himself from Yan Wushi.
“A-Qiao?” he gasps out with difficulty. “A-Qiao?? What the fuck??”
A-Qiao gently lays him down on the bed and covers him with a blanket, expression exhausted and grieving. He strokes his cheek. “I am sorry, general. I must leave you after all.”
Yan Wushi curses. “How did you-?!”
A-Qiao smiles sadly. “I lied about being a simple disciple. I am the sect leader of Xuandu mountain.” He frowns. “No, I suppose I'm not anymore. My shidi betrayed me and sent me off to die. Or worse.” He cards his fingers through Yan Wushi’s hair. “I am sorry,” he says again, “but I need to confront my shidi first.”
He stands up, grabs the iron collar around his neck and pulls, breaking it easily.
Yan Wushi is speechless. “You... You could've escaped anytime?”
A-Qiao looks down and ties up his thin robe. He is flushed. “Yes.”
He tries trashing around, but his body won't listen. He stares at A-Qiao with desperation. “Why didn't you?”
A-Qiao turns around and bends down with some difficultly. He picks up Yan Wushi’s robes from the ground and holds them in his hands. Yan Wushi can’t see his expression from his angle, but the line of his shoulders under his thin robe is tense. He starts putting the robes on. “I will have to bother General Yan for his robes. He has left me with inadequate travelling clothes.”
“A-Qiao! I asked you a fucking question!” he shouts, his voice choked. “Why didn't you escape earlier! Why did you let me-” There is an emotion too close to desperation rising in his chest. “A-Qiao!”
Having finished tying Yan Wushi’s robes on, he turns around and Yan Wushi’s stomach flips at seeing him in his colors.
His robes.
His colors.
A-Qiao kneels next to the bed. He looks down at his face and smiles gently. He cups Yan Wushi’s cheeks, brushing his cheekbones with his thumbs. “Do you know, I was going to kill you. The moment I woke up, I thought that was what I had to do.”
Yan Wushi can only gaze up into that beautiful, kind, sad face. “And now?”
A-Qiao leans in and kisses Yan Wushi deeply, tenderly, cruelly.
He touches his forehead to Yan Wushi’s, and mutters “Thank you for saving my life.”
With a visible reluctance, he stands up again. “This one will have to bother General Yan for his sword as well. I have lost everything I owned.”
He turns to leave, and Yan Wushi suddenly feels panic. “A-Qiao! A-Qiao, don't you dare leave!” He tries to sound angry, but it's clear he's not managing. He grits his teeth. “You're mine! I said you were mine! I will find you again!” he manages to choke out.
A-Qiao turns to him, joins his hands in an acknowledging bow. When he straightens, he is smiling. “I will be looking forward to the day.”
And with that, he finally leaves, and with him he takes Yan Wushi’s heart.