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Beneath the moonlight, two men make their way through the reeds, speaking in hushed voices. The shorter of the two leads the way, pulling the other by the arm.
“If your people knew that you had brought me here, there would be great unrest,” says the taller man, a smug smile upon his lips.
“They will never know. Keep quiet, Yingxing,” the shorter admonishes lightly. They come to a stop in the middle of the lake, where the moon shines the brightest along the water’s crystalline surface. “This will make us even.”
Yingxing raises a skeptical brow. “Will it?”
“I will give you two hours—research what you can,” the High Elder says, turning to face him. “Remember—two hours.”
“Then I best get started now. Brace yourself, Dan Feng,” Yingxing grins, trailing his fingers down the other’s curved back.
Dan Feng lets himself be touched by his beloved, leaning closer as he rests his hands on Yingxing’s sturdy chest. A pair of lotus flowers drift idly by, their sweet scents filling the nighttime air.
“Two hours,” Dan Feng reminds, before closing his eyes. He allows Yingxing to take him in that very lake, beneath the pale moonlight and star-streaked cosmos.
Dan Heng jolts awake, nearly tumbling off the bed in his surprise. He clutches at his chest, a large blush spread across his cheeks.
This isn’t the first time he’s dreamed of that man. There have been small snippets here and there, memories of his past incarnation long forgotten. As prude as he is, Dan Heng is no fool—he knows that the previous Imbibitor Lunae was deeply intertwined with the one called “Yingxing.”
A familiar face flashes through his mind. He is reminded again of dark hair and deep-red eyes, of a cracked sword, its blade sharp and unerring.
But the Stellaron Hunter and Yingxing seem so different—there’s no way they could be the same man that Dan Heng has been dreaming about for the last couple of decades. The Yingxing of the past always seemed so devoted, so soft in comparison to Blade’s quiet rage and cynical demeanor.
They couldn’t be more different. Yet some part of Dan Heng knows—a part that has long been laid to rest—that Yingxing and Blade are one in the same, whether he accepts it or not.
He sits against the headboard with his head in his hands. The rooms in the Petrichor Inn are extremely lavish and adorned with perhaps more expensive furniture than necessary. Dan Heng has never been one for material things, but even he can admit that a soft bed is better than a sleeping bag laid out on the floor.
Running a hand through his long hair, Dan Heng finds himself with more time that he knows what to do with. After sending Phantylia back to whence she came, everyone had crowded around him, searching for answers. March, of course, has drilled him with an endless line of questions. The Trailblazer merely examined him from afar, unspeaking yet just as curious. Jing Yuan only thanked Dan Heng for his help during the fight, but his gratitude had also come with a somber smile that Dan Heng forced himself to look away from.
It was only when Welt had interfered, his sharp yet not unkind voice cutting above the rest of the chatter, had the crowd dispersed some. He suggested that they should find someplace to rest and gather their bearings for the time being, pointedly emphasizing to March that they should all give Dan Heng some space.
For Welt’s gentle interference, Dan Heng was immensely grateful.
The Astral Express Crew was then shortly whisked away by a small unit of Cloud Knights. They were escorted straight to the Petrichor Inn with stern orders to not to leave the building until the lingering chaos from outside had been dealt with.
And Dan Heng was so exhausted at the time that he hadn’t put up much of a fight. Instead he had gone straight to his designated room and promptly fell asleep the moment his tired body hit the mattress.
Hours later, after witnessing a dream that held memories of a painful past, Dan Heng finds himself wide awake, gazing anxiously out the open window. The Stellaron Hunters have fled the Luofu, have they not? Phantylia and her abominations have been mostly defeated and kept at bay for the time being. The Cloud Knights are working hard to ensure the safety of the Luofu.
Everyone is doing their part.
Why, then, does Dan Heng feel so anxious?
The moon is full as it hangs somewhere in the distance, beyond the stars and cosmic dust. A faint sphere hidden behind a veil of streaky clouds, illuminating the quiet darkness around it.
Dan Heng moves away from the window. He can’t stop thinking about that peculiar Yingxing—or is it Blade that truly plagues his mind, keeping him restless?
He paces around the room, trying to rid himself of that taunting face and cruel voice. His robes sweep along the floor, catching dust. Dan Heng had been so exhausted earlier that he hasn’t gotten a chance to change his clothes—or his form, for that matter.
As he looks down at his hands, a brief memory strikes him: his past incarnation clutching to Yingxing’s broad shoulders, nails digging into the meat of the other’s back, both of their heads tilted forward, their breaths mingling as they—
Dan Heng feels a wave of heat wash over him, starting from his head all the way down to his very toes. Something akin to arousal pools low in his gut, his scent flaring with raw want, sharp and sweet.
A thin trail of slick slides down his leg, making him shiver. Dan Heng slaps a hand over his mouth to silence the awful whine climbing up his throat, his cheeks flushed scarlet as he hurries over to the bed.
Suddenly, there is a dull prickling sensation at his nape, and Dan Heng knows from memories past what it must be—or, at least, what it used to be.
Because of course, of course Yingxing and Dan Feng were so enamored with each other that they had exchanged claim marks. Dan Heng thinks that if he concentrates hard enough, he’ll be able to feel the ghost of his past beloved’s claim along his delicate nape. There in spirit, but not in reality. A memory of what was and what had been.
No, no. He shuts his eyes and tears his hand away from his neck.
This can’t be happening. Dan Heng has long since turned away from his past. He has started his life anew since he’s been traveling with the Astral Express, meeting new people and making better memories—memories that don’t cause him anguish or send him into an inescapable spiral.
Dan Heng lies back against the mattress, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to quell the omega laying dormant within him. More slick dribbles out of his hole, drenching his robes and the bedsheets bellow. A mix of Yingxing and Blade’s faces flash through his mind as if to taunt him, a twisted combination of past and present that has his head reeling.
With clenched teeth, Dan Heng chooses to think of Blade instead of Yingxing. It’s easier that way, to think of a man who hates him, who wants him dead, than of a man who had once loved his past incarnation, who held Dan Feng with gentle arms and gazed at him with quiet adoration.
The smell of lotus flowers permeates the room so intensely that it’s nearly unbearable. Dan Heng inhales a lungful of sweet nectar, tasting dew on his tongue. He hates how quickly he loses himself to the haze.
His fingers dip beneath the small window of his shirt, inching towards a hardened nipple. They brush against the bud, shy and fleeting, but the sensation has Dan Heng arching off the mattress all the same. A low keen punches its way from his throat, a gush of slick rushing out of his hole.
It’s been so long since he’s last touched himself like this. Being on the Express leaves him with little time alone to himself, and it’s only on the rare occasion where the rest of the crew has departed from the parlor that he indulges in the throes of self-pleasure.
Because as much as Dan Heng chooses to distance himself from his omegan nature, there is very little he can do to truly suppress it. It’ll always be a part of him, no matter how many suppressants he takes or how hard he tries to hide his scent with blockers. His omega is an old, primal thing, borne from a time long since put to rest.
Still, Dan Heng wants. He secretly craves to be touched, to be adored as much as his past incarnation. In some dark, twisted way, he feels an ugly streak of jealousy rise up within him. Was Dan Heng less desirable this time around? Does he not carry the same grace and power that Dan Feng once had?
A part of him aches, yearning to feel whole. The room is much too vast, and the bed much too large for just his lonesome person. Dan Heng turns his head to the empty space beside him, wishing there was another warm body lying next to his, keeping him company in times of mind-numbing, lust-crazed heat.
His fingers dip lower, grazing the flat plane of his stomach. Dan Heng gasps, a broken, high-pitched thing, as he cups his hand around the heat of his cock, which is still hidden beneath the depth of his robes. His hips buck up almost immediately to chase the feeling, his hole fluttering wildly as if begging to be filled.
Dan Heng spreads his legs, shivering as he lets his imagination run wild. He imagines someone slipping between his parted knees, their weight a sturdy comfort against his lithe body. Rough hands would spread his legs even wider before running down the meat of his thighs, pinching and squeezing at the delicate flesh, pulling breathy moans from his throat all the while.
It would take at least three fingers to work him open. Scarred and calloused as they might be, but still ever so gentle as they stretch Dan Heng’s wet hole loose. His beloved would praise him, then, telling him how well he was taking their fingers, how soft his insides felt. And Dan Heng would soak up the praise like a man starved, trembling and moaning as skilled fingers slowly took him apart.
He would come on his beloved’s fingers first, then come once more on their cock. Over and over again, until they were both spent and satisfied, until the sun threatened to chase the night and her stars away.
Dan Heng nearly comes from the very thought of being embraced by another body. It’s been far too long since he’s last been held. He is quick to smother an on-coming sob before it can leave his throat, trying to preserve what little of his dignity is left.
He wants—no, needs to be filled, to be claimed, to be taken—
Lost in the haze of his own wanton desires, Dan Heng fails to hear someone slipping in through the open window. A pair of light, trained feet make no noise as they approach the bed.
Dan Heng smells the intruder before he can see them. The stench of blood…and something else. Something old and dark and sinister.
His bleary eyes slide upwards to settle on a much too-familiar face. A pair of deep-red eyes stare back, hungry and fierce as they gaze upon Dan Heng’s vulnerable, sweaty form.
Miraculously, it is Blade who speaks first.
“What lengths will you go to taunt me?” he sneers, all teeth and anger. The Stellaron Hunter steps closer, his scent flaring with thinly-veiled fury. “I could smell you all the way from—what are you doing?”
Dan Heng doesn’t even realize that he’s slid out of bed until he’s standing a few paces away from the other man, swaying some on his feet.
“You…” Dan Heng croaks, high-pitched and desperate. “Come. Come here. Please.”
Blade goes deathly still. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me.”
Dan Heng shakes his head, holding a trembling hand out. “Please. I know you from somewhere…you’re so—so familiar—”
And then Blade is right in front of him, lips pulled back in a snarl. “Don’t mock me,” he seethes, his eyes flashing wildly. “I should kill you right here and let bygones be bygones.”
“Help me,” Dan Heng whispers, shivering beneath Blade’s empty-eyed glare. “I know I’m not him, but—”
“Quiet.” Blade brandishes his sword, pressing the sharp metal against Dan Heng’s flushed neck. He feels a muted sense of fear well up in him, but makes no move to step away from Blade. “You must think you’re so clever.”
“Tell me what he did. I can’t remember,” Dan Heng begs, squeezing his eyes. “I only remember—you were…were mates with him.”
The sword presses firmer against his skin, a quiet promise to draw blood. Still, Blade keeps his arm steady, and does not allow Dan Heng’s blood to spill prematurely.
“Enough with the running. There’s still a price to be paid, people to cull.” Blade speaks like a riddler, twisting Dan Heng’s thoughts in a thousand directions.
“I don’t understand.” He shakes his head, and for a moment his mind clears, the stench of lotus flowers not as stifling as before. “I’m not the Imbibitor Lunae you once knew.” Dan Heng pauses, going quiet. “There’s just me.”
Blade stares at him. In all the chaos, Dan Heng has failed to realize how close they’ve gotten. If he were to lean forward just a little bit, their foreheads would brush together. His omega lets out a pleased sigh at the possibility, but he is quick to silence it.
“How can I know for sure?” Blade speaks after what feels like an eternity.
“What—”
“How can I know for sure that this body is the only thing that’s left of him?” Blade shakes his head, letting his weapon fall. It clatters against the floor, useless by their feet. “There has to be more. I know there is.”
Dan Heng swallows past the dry lump in his throat. His eyes dart to the bed behind him, a silent plea. Blade barks out an ugly laugh, low and taunting. Then, against Dan Heng’s better judgment, he says, “He called you Yingxing.”
Blade looks at him like the name doesn’t mean a damn thing. “Who?”
“Don’t you miss him?” Dan Heng blurts, puzzled by Blade’s nonchalance.
“There’s nothing left to miss,” comes Blade’s easy answer. “You said so yourself.”
At a loss, Dan Heng can say nothing. He realizes very quickly that there isn’t a way to soothe a hurt he knows so little about. In the end, all he can do is shake his head and gape dumbly at Blade, who looks seconds away from sweeping his sword off the floor and cleaving Dan Heng’s body in two.
But somewhere in his mind, far away and distant, a quiet voice tells him that Blade would never hurt him. Not truly—not again.
“I don’t know what to do.” Dan Heng doesn’t know why he says it, but once he starts, he can’t stop. “Everything’s become too much. They all look at me, but I know they’re just searching for him—even you. And I can’t. I can’t be him.”
He scrubs a hand down his face, his scent souring with his displeasure. A terrible exhaustion overcomes him then, settling over his bones like a familiar coat.
Two hands take Dan Heng by the shoulders and carelessly shove him back on the bed. He stumbles, making a sound of surprise as the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress.
“What are you doing?” Dan Heng asks tiredly, watching as Blade unbuttons the front of his tailcoat.
“I pity the person you’ve become,” says Blade, shucking his coat off. Dan Heng lets his eyes wander over his bandaged chest, over the swell of his breast. “This is mere pity. Nothing more.”
Dan Heng squeezes his thighs together as Blade’s scent wafts beneath his nose. A deep, metallic musk that would otherwise have him retching if not for the sparks of heat popping down his spine.
Blade plants a hand on Dan Heng’s chest and pushes him down into the mattress. On instinct, Dan Heng spreads his legs, slapping a hand over his mouth to silence any embarrassing noises he’s making.
“Hurry,” he gasps, a glob of slick gushing out of his hole. His omega swoons when Blade clambers up on top of him to slide between his legs, their groins pressing flush together, sharing heat.
Dan Heng ruts back against Blade’s hips, hands scrambling against the bed to clutch at the loose sheets.
“Stop squirming,” Blade says, capturing Dan Heng’s hips in a bruising grip.
“Touch me, please,” he begs, trying not to think too hard about how needy he sounds.
“I am,” Blade says, almost breathless. If Dan Heng squints, he might be able to see a faint redness spread over the other’s cheek. Blade runs a rough hand down Dan Heng’s stomach, coming to a stop just above the bulge straining against his pants.
Dan Heng lets out a quiet sigh at the heated touch, his eyes fluttering shut, pleased. His omega calms somewhat at being touched by someone so, so achingly familiar.
Blade dips his head down to nose at Dan Heng’s jaw, breathing in the sweet scent of lotus flowers. “Tell me to leave, and I will,” he says quietly, softer than Dan Heng has ever heard him speak.
“Don’t go,” Dan Heng pleads, grasping at his shoulders, keeping him close. “Stay here with me.”
Their eyes meet, dewy teal on scarlet red. Blade has an odd expression on his face, eyes swimming with an emotion Dan Heng can’t quite place.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” says Blade, watching him closely.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Dan Heng asks, exasperated. He digs his nails into the meat of Blade’s shoulders, his face twisting with hurt. “Is there something wrong with me?”
Blade’s jaw tightens, something fierce sparking in his eye. “If you take this path, the others will know. They might resent you for it.”
“They wouldn’t—“ Dan Heng starts, but Blade talks over him.
“They will. They fear that I’ll ruin you.” His head dips lower, sharp teeth dragging along the delicate skin of Dan Heng’s neck. He chuckles darkly. “They’re afraid that I might stain you.”
“Then stain me,” says Dan Heng, his voice hardly above a whisper. “I don’t care.”
Blade lifts his head and glares at him so fiercely Dan Heng has to force himself from looking away. “You…”
“You said I had a price to pay. I’ll pay it, so go ahead and stain me.” Dan Heng swallows dryly, suddenly all too aware of how close they are. He can feel what little remnants of heat that cling to Blade’s body through his robes.
The room goes quiet. Blade stares and stares and Dan Heng turns his face away because he can’t stand the look on the other man’s face. It’s as though Blade is trying to peel back the layers of Dan Heng’s skin to see what lies beneath, to search for something he already knows isn’t there.
“There’s no return from this,” Blade says after a time. “Once I stain you, you will never be the same again.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” replies Dan Heng. Their eyes meet again, but this time is softer. Perhaps even gentle. “I haven’t…been with anyone. Not—not in this body.” Not in this life, he doesn’t say.
“Of course you haven’t,” Blade scoffs, starting to strip Dan Heng of his robes. “I’ve already ruined you for anyone else.”
Dan Heng clumsily unties the front of his robe, letting the lavish silk fall against the bed. Blade helps him undress, oddly silent despite everything. His hands are rough and scarred, and one is wrapped tightly in white bandages. Unthinkingly, Dan Heng runs his fingers along a puckered scar traveling across Blade’s arm.
“These must have taken much of your strength from you,” he says, trying to soothe an unspeakable phantom pain with mere words. He has no idea why Blade is hurting so much, only knows that he’s hurt and it’s Dan Heng’s job to soothe him, to smooth over the hurt the best he can.
“It was nothing. Close your heart to it,” Blade says, his hands roaming over the planes of Dan Heng’s naked stomach.
He shivers at how cold they are, sighing when they pry his thighs apart, revealing his most intimate parts. Then Dan Heng feels the ridiculous urge to please Blade somehow, so he forces out a line of slick that dribbles down the swell of his ass, his hole fluttering without shame.
Blade squeezes the fat of his thighs appreciatively, muttering something that Dan Heng can’t hear. He presses the flat of his thumb against Dan Heng’s hole, spreading it open, and stops to stare, as if bewitched.
“Blade?” Dan Heng asks, keeping a careful eye on his face.
“Quiet.” Blade sinks his thumb inside, slowly and with a gentle reverie that strikes Dan Heng as uncharacteristic of someone so obsessed with the idea of killing him.
Dan Heng’s cock twitches at the intrusion, a gush of slick spurting out of his hole to coax Blade’s thumb further inside. He throws his head back when the tip of Blade’s thumb brushes over his sweet spot, just barely grazing it.
“You’re so…slow,” Dan Heng complains, rocking his hips back, trying to get Blade to move.
“Don’t be so impatient,” Blade chides, then removes his thumb completely. Before Dan Heng can even think to voice his complaints, two fingers push inside of him, the stretch accompanied by a slight burn.
Blade splits him open with ease, Dan Heng’s hole greedily swallowing everything it’s been given. His omega is much too pleased after being deprived of another’s touch for so long, and Dan Heng has to clench his teeth to stop himself from purring.
Two fingers split him open, languidly thrusting in and out, his slick-covered hole squelching and fluttering all the while. Unable to swallow them down, Dan Heng lets out quiet moans, his legs twitching as he loses himself in the steady sensation of Blade’s fingers.
No words are exchanged between them. Eventually, two fingers turn into three, and soon Dan Heng is panting wildly against the mattress, his legs spread as far as they’ll go, hips grinding down to meet Blade’s hand as his stiff cock bounces against the flat of his belly.
“Oh,” Dan Heng moans, back arching off the bed as he comes, his ass clamping down hard on Blade’s fingers. Stars explode behind his eyelids as his entire body is suddenly flooded with a heat so visceral he thinks he might have actually touched fire.
“Come back to me.” Blade’s firm voice drags Dan Heng back to reality, pulling him back up from the depths of pleasure. Dan Heng lays breathless against rustled sheets, chest heaving as he trembles like a leaf while Blade runs his fingertips along the smooth planes of his body.
“It’s not enough,” Dan Heng says, throwing an arm over his eyes. There is a terrible ache in his chest that won’t go away, that lingers still despite how close they are. He yearns for Blade the same way the tide might yearn for the moon, endlessly gazing up at the star-streaked sky, ever hopeful. “Touch me more, please.”
Blade tugs him up by the arms, pulling Dan Heng into his lap. “When this is over, I’ll kill you,” he says as he lines the head of his cock up to meet Dan Heng’s hole. “Slit your throat and finally be done with it. You’ll be at my mercy, at my blade.”
He thrusts inside, filling Dan Heng to the brim. They both groan at the feeling, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. Blade rakes his nails down Dan Heng’s sides, as if to distract him from the pain of the stretch.
Dan Heng squirms where he’s seated on Blade’s cock, clutching onto the other’s shoulders like he’ll drift away if he lets go. He twists his hips, sighing against Blade’s cheek when the tip of his cock brushes against his sweet spot.
They rock into each other with a feverish type of heat, chasing pleasure over and over again. Dan Heng fists Blade’s hair, and in turn Blade laps at his neck, marking him, branding him, tearing the flesh. Blood beads across Dan Heng’s fair skin like a grotesque pearl necklace, only to be licked away with a swipe of Blade’s tongue.
“More,” Dan Heng gasps, tugging on the other’s hair. He drives his hips down, grinding against Blade’s fat cock, never content with what he’s been given. “Stain me more.”
Blade surges forward, crushing their lips into wine, all teeth and tongue and spit. Dan Heng moans at the ferocity of it, jaw going slack as Blade licks and bites at his mouth, making him bleed.
“You’re mine,” hisses Blade, yanking Dan Heng’s head back. Their eyes meet, equally full of bliss and raw want.
Dan Heng’s stomach flutters despite the violence of their copulating. Under his nose, Blade’s scent flares up like a spider lily at full bloom, and Dan Heng thinks he’s learning to love the stench of death. He nods, a sweet blush filling his cheeks. “Yes, yesㅡI’ve been waiting lifetimes for you.”
A howl rips through Blade’s throat, his thrusts becoming wild and sloppy as he chases his release. Dan Heng groans, eyes rolling back as he loses himself in the sensation of Blade’s destruction. He whispers sweet praises into Blade’s ear, coaxing him closer to the end, urging him to come.
Then Blade is tossing Dan Heng onto his back, throwing Dan Heng’s legs over his shoulders and plunging back inside, perhaps even deeper than before. Dan Heng scrambles to find purchase somewhere, hands blindly searching for a pillow or something to hold onto. Unthinkingly, wordlessly, he holds his hand out, fingers outstretched towards Blade.
Blade snatches his hand up, their fingers interlocking, squeezing so tightly Dan Heng can hear his bones creak beneath the force. The angle is an awkward stretch and tangle of limbs, but Blade shuts his eyes nonetheless, driving his hips forward and back, into and out of Dan Heng’s heat.
“Good, so good,” Dan Heng mewls, watching Blade’s face twist with pleasure. Pride bubbles up within him at the sightㅡhe’s making the alpha feel good; only Dan Heng can ever see Blade this disheveled, this vulnerable. His teeth ache at the very thought of Blade being his, and his alone.
Blade is quiet when he comes, hips stuttering slightly as he fills Dan Heng with his seed, a small groan pushing past his lips. Dan Heng follows soon after, adding to the mess on his stomach, tears pricking at his eyes at how good it feels. He trembles at the aftershock, blearily gazing over at Blade, who seems just as spent.
“I’m not done with you,” says Blade, staring at him past the curtain of his hair. He still hasn’t let go of Dan Heng’s hand.
“Kill me again,” Dan Heng says, already rolling over. He lays on his stomach, his veins thrumming with elation and some muted sense of fear. He has his entire backside exposed, cum leaking out of his twitching hole and reddened thighs. If Blade wanted to, he could force a claim on Dan Heng right then and there, and Dan Heng would be entirely at his mercy.
Teeth graze at his nape. Dan Heng sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the sheets beneath him, heart pounding in his chest as he waits for Blade to sink his teeth into the fair skin of his neck. One, two beats pass, but no pain comes. This urges Dan Heng to chance a glance over his shoulder, a question on his tongue.
Before he can even ask, Blade gives him a hard look. “Do you really think so low of me? I would never give you something you didn’t want,” he admonishes, making Dan Heng purse his lips and look away, embarrassed.
“…Sorry. Most alphas would, if they were in your place,” Dan Heng argues weakly, and it’s only then that he realizes he doesn’t really know Blade at all, despite their history. His heart aches, weeping quietly at the loss of what was, or what could have been.
Blade crawls on top of him, pressing their flushed bodies together. He spreads Dan Heng’s cheeks apart to reveal his pert hole, and pushes inside, slowly, achingly, his breath fanning hot against Dan Heng’s shoulder. “Then they’re nothing but fools,” Blade says once he’s slid back home, a rasp to his voice that wasn’t there before.
“Hold me tighter,” Dan Heng begs, pressing his face into the mattress. He bites his lips raw at how full he feels. His omega is utterly elated, stirring to life after being dormant for so long. “You’re too far away.”
“Says the one who’s been running from me all these years,” says Blade. It has some bite to it, some venom. He rolls his hips back, then drives them forward again, his pace languid and unhurried.
Dan Heng shuts his eyes, loving the way Blade’s cock splits him open almost effortlessly. “You were trying to kill me,” he gasps, spreading his legs farther. His own cock is pressed against the bed, completely untouched. “Of course I’d run.”
“There’s no running from me this time, Dan Heng. Swear you won’t.” From anyone else, it would have sounded like begging, like a man pleading with his beloved to stayㅡbut Dan Heng knows better than to delude himself with his fantasies.
Still, the way Blade speaks—with the ghost of a tremor in his voice—makes Dan Heng compliant, much too willing to bend in whatever direction Blade asks of him.
“I swear it,” Dan Heng says, and he surprises even himself at how much he means it.
Blade’s bandaged chest presses against the delicate curve of Dan Heng’s spine, his bruised, scarred hands slipping beneath Dan Heng’s shoulders, grasping at the flesh, an anchor amongst the tumultuous sea of unknowns and tragedies past.
Lips graze the shell of his ear, and Dan Heng turns his face towards the touch. A dressed hand sweeps away a waterfall of dark, silk-spun hair away from his face, its heat lingering across Dan Heng’s skin. Briefly, he wonders how a man so cruel and battle-torn can touch him so gently, reverently, like a long-lost lover.
Blade takes him on that bed, marking up his skin, carving away at Dan Heng’s body like he owns it, and Dan Heng doesn’t ever think of telling him to stop, for any pain he feels is quickly wiped away with a kiss hard enough to bruise, or a swift thrust of Blade’s hips that has his vision blurring.
“More,” Dan Heng whispers, gripping the bedsheets so tightly his knuckles turn white. “Blade, please—”
“Patience,” Blade murmurs. “I’ll give you everything you ask of me, but be patient, Dan Heng.”
“You too. Ask me anything, and it’s yours,” Dan Heng says wetly, a lump in his throat, tears beading along his eyelashes.
Blade sighs against his shoulder, rutting his hips against the swell of Dan Heng’s ass. They’re so closely pressed together that Dan Heng can hear the hard beat of Blade’s undead heart through his own skin, thumping rapidly against its cage of bone.
When Blade spills inside of him for the second time, Dan Heng holds his breath. He feels the other man shudder above him, breathing heavily into his ear. Blade flips him over, his pupil blown wide, a healthy, pink flush adorning his cheeks.
Dan Heng looks at him, at the way he’s covered in sweat, his cock wet with a lewd mixture of his cum and Dan Heng’s slick, still hard and fat against his thigh, a small, barely-there grin on his lips, and thinks Blade just might be the loveliest person he’s ever laid his eyes on.
Adoration soars through him. Without thinking, Dan Heng pushes himself up from the bed and throws his arms around Blade’s strong shoulders. “You’re perfect,” he blurts stupidly, rubbing their necks together, their scents overlapping, a strange concoction of lotus flowers and blood. Then, quieter, “Stay with me a little longer. Please, if you can.”
“Until you’ve paid the price,” Blade says, his arms loose around Dan Heng’s waist. “Until we’re sick of each other.”
Dan Heng’s blood sings, and he crushes their lips together, frantic at first, but it smooths out into something sweet, and perhaps even soft. He sighs against Blade’s mouth, fisting his hair, their chests snug against each other, hearts aligned and beating as one, perpetual unit.
“I barely know you, but it feels like I’ve known you for ages,” Dan Heng hears himself admit in the narrow space between their faces. “Why is that?”
“Close your heart to it,” Blade repeats again, shaking his head. Then he reaches down and wraps a hand around Dan Heng’s cock, capturing his sex in a steady fist.
“You keep telling me that, but I’ve no idea what it means,” gasps Dan Heng, hips bucking upwards to chase the feeling. He pulls back a little to push Blade’s hair out of his face, revealing a set of deep, crimson eyes that must have been carved and polished from the loveliest ores in the galaxy.
Blade takes him apart all over again, fisting Dan Heng’s cock with meaningful strokes, occasionally swiping his thumb over the sensitive head or lightly dragging a nail down the length of it. Dan Heng feels heat pool low in his belly, toes curling at how easily Blade can unravel him, like a spool of thread coming undone.
“I dream of you almost every night,” Blade hisses, stroking Dan Heng’s cock almost roughly, as though to punish him. “You haunt me. A plague amongst my dreams.”
Dan Heng knocks their foreheads together, sweetly running a thumb beneath Blade’s eye. “That makes the two of us.” He kisses him, tasting some sorrow on his tongue. “Sometimes I find myself wishing I never wake up.”
“Don’t say that.” Blade’s face darkens, a flash of something possessive skittering over his features. His fingers tighten around Dan Heng’s cock ever so slightly, just enough to ground him. “I’ve got you, haven’t I?”
“You have me,” Dan Heng nods, a near sob pushing past his lips from how good Blade’s hand feels around his cock. Everywhere he touches feels like fire—it makes Dan Heng so dizzy with want he almost feels drunk. “No one has ever made me feel this good.”
“I know,” Blade says, flexing his wrist and stroking Dan Heng’s cock even faster. With his free hand, he reaches around Dan Heng’s backside and slips two fingers into his winking hole, coating them in slick. Then he pulls his fingers out, shiny with slick, and uses them to wet Dan Heng’s own cock—a makeshift lubricant.
“I’m almost—” Dan Heng stutters, his lungs seizing. His eyes flutter shut as he comes all over Blade’s hand, his sore cock only managing to spurt out thin ribbons of cum, utterly spent. He sags against Blade’s chest, sweaty and impossibly warm.
Blade bears his weight, holding Dan Heng in his arms like one would with their lover. His lips, torn and chapped, brush against Dan Heng’s sweat-soaked forehead, not quite a kiss but still just as suffocating. It steals Dan Heng’s breath from him, leaving him all aflutter. The gesture is so sweet it almost makes him shy despite his nudity.
“Are you tired?” Blade asks, his voice a low rumble.
“No,” Dan Heng lies. He idly traces over a small, faded scar along the edge of Blade’s collarbone. A bolt of anxiety runs through him then, jolting him from his silent reverie. “Wait, don’t go. I can still—”
“Sleep,” Blade tells him, already easing Dan Heng to lay back against the mattress.
Stubborn to a fault, he refuses. “I’m not tired. Stay a little longer,” Dan Heng pleads, even though his eyelids start to droop, the hands of sleep grasping at his conscience. He reaches out to grab Blade by the wrist, a wordless plea.
“I’m not leaving,” Blade reassures, and Dan Heng settles down just a little bit. “Rest for now. Save your strength.”
Dan Heng yawns, sleepily gazing up at him. “You too. Lie down next to me.” He pats the empty spot next to himself for emphasis, elegant fingers splayed along the mattress.
Blade scoffs but complies, shutting the lamp off with a flick of his wrist. The room becomes awash with darkness, dim moonlight trickling in through the windows, painting their faces silver. Even still, their bodies find each other through the pitch, and when they meet, gold spills from all the lovely places that connect them, brighter than any star or sun or moon alike.
When Blade settles down beside him, Dan Heng lets his eyes fall shut, full of bliss and adoration. Blade slings a heavy arm around his waist, dragging him closer, his forehead resting between the space of Dan Heng’s shoulders.
They sleep, but they do not stay asleep. Sometimes Dan Heng will wake up to Blade’s cock rutting between his thighs, and they embrace until both of them are left breathless. Other times it’s Dan Heng who stirs awake first, carefully untangling himself from the mess of limbs that ensnare him, and quietly shuffles down the bed to put his mouth on Blade’s cock. Blade will wake up shortly after, a hand fisted in Dan Heng’s long hair as he fucks his mouth, coming down his throat and watching Dan Heng greedily swallow his seed.
Then Blade will drag Dan Heng up by the arms to take him apart on his cock, over and over until they’re both sick with desire and lust and simple adoration. Only once does Dan Heng wake up from yet another fleeting memory of his past life, and he turns to his side to face Blade, who is fast asleep after a recent round of their frantic copulating.
Dan Heng watches him sleep, watches the way his chest falls and rises, the way his breaths come easily, peacefully, like the tide returning to the shore after a bad storm. Moonlight splashes across Blade’s face, softening all of his hard angles and chasing away any dark shadows lingering on his skin. The moonlight makes Blade look innocent, and suddenly it’s hard to imagine all of the atrocities he’s committed over the years.
Dan Heng reaches out to trace a finger down the slope of Blade’s nose, the sharp edge of his cheek, then over his eye, his jaw, the shell of his ear. Dan Heng commits all of it to memory; every scar Blade wears, the many shapes and lines that make up his handsome features—even the very fabric of his skin is seared into Dan Heng’s brain, his soul, forever immortalized.
“Is this still mere pity?” Dan Heng asks aloud, a hushed question that he doesn’t expect an answer to. Blade opens his eyes then, startling him. He is immediately entranced by their deep crimson color, and finds it difficult to look away after being caught. Still, Dan Heng summons the courage to ask, “How long have you been awake?”
“I was never asleep,” Blade says, his mouth curved into a light smirk.
Charming, Dan Heng thinks. “Will you answer my question this time?”
“Figure it out for yourself.”
Dan Heng frowns, pulling his hand back. “You said you’d be willing to give me everything I asked for,” he reminds, petulant.
“Mm, in due time,” Blade says gruffly, as vague as ever. “Only when I know you’re capable of handling it.”
“Do you doubt my strength?” Dan Heng scowls.
“I doubt your conviction,” Blade corrects, watching him closely.
Dan Heng blinks at him. “What does that even mean?”
“I’d be a fool to not see your guilt, especially when you wear it so freely.” Blade shifts a little, their knees knocking together with the motion. “You don’t know what you want from me. Not yet.”
“I do know—”
“You don’t,” Blade says, a finality to his voice that makes Dan Heng snap his mouth shut. “It’s much too soon.”
“We were soulmates,” Dan Heng blurts, something like insecurity unfurling in his chest. “I know we were, I can feel it.”
Blade glares at him then, a cold tension settling between them, a stark difference to the warmth that lingered just moments prior. “That’s not enough,” he says, and the words strike at Dan Heng’s heart in a way a blade never could.
“Do you not want me?” he whispers, the hurt bleeding through his voice. He almost pulls away, but Blade’s hand shoots out to grab him by the shoulder.
“I am bound to my fate, as are you. We have our responsibilities to different people, destinies that need to be fulfilled,” Blade says, keeping his face still. Even so, a flicker of something in his eyes betrays his stony expression.
“I don’t care about fate,” Dan Heng argues, clutching at Blade’s wrist. “I care about us. You have my heart.”
Blade’s entire face shutters, his jaw growing tight with frustration. “It’s not that simple, Dan Heng.” He spits out the name like a curse, and Dan Heng feels himself crumple. “My actions are limited. I have to follow Elio’s script, let destiny run its course—”
“Elio,” Dan Heng echos, trying to match the name to a face, or a memory, or something. Then, he remembers—Stellaron Hunter. “Him? Let me speak to him, I can—”
“You will not,” Blade seethes, his anger making Dan Heng freeze. “I won’t let him anywhere near you. He’s dangerous.”
“I’m strong enough to protect us both,” Dan Heng argues, his own temper flaring. They scowl at each other, their lips curled and teeth beared.
Blade is, if not more, stubborn than Dan Heng. “Not from fate. Elio is…larger than the both of us. I can’t comprehend half of what he might be capable of.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Dan Heng scoffs, insulted at the way Blade belittles his fighting prowess.
“You should be,” Blade says, something like defeat settling over him.
Alarmed, Dan Heng shoots up from the bed, his shadow looming over the other man. A flare of panic surges down his spine. “Has he hurt you?” he asks, searching for some sort of unusual injury. The desire to protect Blade from any harm comes as naturally as breathing, and if Dan Heng wasn’t so wound up, he’d have been surprised at how frantic he was behaving.
“Calm down,” Blade sighs, pulling Dan Heng to his chest. He goes easily, though irritation courses through him like bolts of lightning. “Control your anger. Soothe it.”
The scent of death and bloodied spider lilies wafts beneath Dan Heng’s nose, oddly alluring despite its repugnance. Blade’s scent smothers his anger like a wet cloth to a flame.
Dan Heng settles against his chest, the last sparks of his anger fading to nothing. They lay there quietly, finding solace in listening to the other’s slow breaths. After what feels like an eternity, Dan Heng says, “Come with us—the Astral Express. You don’t have to stay with them.”
“Dan Heng,” Blade starts, but Dan Heng speaks over him.
“I’ll talk to Welt—he’ll understand if I explain everything. He’s kind—the most accepting man I know. We can help you. I can help you. You don’t have to be a slave to your own fate,” he babbles desperately, wishing there was some way to make Blade listen to him.
“Dan Heng.” His voice is sharp, cold and unerring. It sounds almost unfamiliar to Dan Heng’s ears. “Enough. You know how this ends.”
“Why aren’t you fighting back? You always fight,” Dan Heng says with a disbelieving shake of his head.
“I know how to choose my battles. This is one I cannot win,” Blade tells him, a ferocity to his eyes that disappears the moment he blinks. He looks…wilted, somehow, and Dan Heng realizes very quickly that he’s staring at a wolf without its teeth, like someone had come and filed them down into a straight, flat line, rendering them useless.
Dan Heng gapes up at him like a fish out of water. Silence befalls them once more, but it doesn’t last.
“What happens to us now?” Dan Heng asks, his voice going flat.
“Close your heart—”
“I won’t, and I’m never going to.” Dan Heng grits his teeth and glares at Blade, whose expression is unreadable. “And I’m not entirely convinced you have, either.”
Blade almost smiles. “Clever, aren’t you?”
“Do you want me?” Dan Heng hears himself ask. He can’t help it—he needs to know.
“You already have my answer,” says Blade.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Blade sighs again, but this time it almost sounds fond. “Of course I want you. But I can’t.”
“You can’t,” Dan Heng parrots, sagging against his chest.
“No, not yet. Not now.”
Curiosity strikes him. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Do you want me to?” Blade asks, lifting a brow.
“I don’t think you even could,” Dan Heng says, belatedly realizing that real lovers don’t speak to each other like this. It suits them, he thinks, this violence mixed with adoration.
“I could pierce your heart before you could even think to scream,” Blade says, and Dan Heng knows this to be true.
He shuts his eyes, exhaustion settling over his bones. “Go ahead. It was only ever yours to pierce in the first place.”
Blade sweeps the hair away from Dan Heng’s face, muttering beneath his breath. He thinks he hears something along the lines of, “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” But he can’t be sure.
“Leave before I wake up,” Dan Heng whispers, pressing his lips to the white bandages wrapped around Blade’s chest. “It’ll be easier for the both of us.”
He half expects Blade to argue and is mildly surprised when he’s met with compliance. “I will,” Blade promises, running his fingers down Dan Heng’s spine, each touch fleeting but no less reverent. “Don’t worry—I’ll find you again.”
Dan Heng sinks into the depths of sleep, fully believing him. He dreams of another reality—one in which neither of them have fought, nor have they turned their blades against each other. In that faraway, unthinkable reality, there is no hurt or bitterness between them; only love, only devotion.
When Dan Heng wakes up hours later, stirred by the sound of starskiffs zipping through the atmosphere, the room is awash with golden sunlight. His entire body is sore from the night before, but that ache is nothing compared to the one he feels when he sees that the spot next to him is empty.
Dan Heng stares at the ceiling in deep contemplation. He searches the room for any remnants of Blade, only to find nothing, like he was never there.
He lies there for what must be a century, thinking so hard his head starts to hurt. Like a man bewitched, Dan Heng’s thoughts always drift back to Blade, wondering if the other man has returned safely, if he’s gotten caught, if his bandages have been changed.
Purely on instinct, Dan Heng sits up, delving a hand beneath the pillow he’s been resting his head on. He feels something thin and delicate graze his fingers, and, eyes widening, lifts the pillow with his other hand.
There, laying daintily in the palm of his hand, is a white spider lily, freshly picked.
Dan Heng cradles the flower to his chest, thinking of his beloved, and weeps.
“Where have you two been? Everyone has been driven half-mad trying to search for you both.” Jing Yuan confronts them with his arms crossed, eyes darting to and fro, searching for an answer.
“None of your business,” Yingxing barks at the same time Dan Feng replies, “We were sparring.”
Jing Yuan, ever perceptive, looks hardly convinced. “Mm. For two hours? Is that why your clothing is all wet?”
Yingxing bristles like a cat. “Don’t you have somewhere to be, General?” he spits, shoving past him, dragging Dan Feng along by the arm.
“I’ll explain our whereabouts to the other Vidyadhara,” Dan Feng calls out to Jing Yuan, who only shakes his head with a small smile as he watches them go.
“I can’t stand him,” Yingxing complains, a furrow to his brow. His long, white hair spills down his back, a perfect match to the spider lilies adorning the grassy hill.
“He’s your closest companion,” Dan Feng reminds dryly, though his lips are curved into an almost smile.
“Hmph. That’s precisely why I can’t stand him.” Yingxing comes to an abrupt stop, and for a moment Dan Feng thinks something is wrong.
“Yingxing?” His eyes dart around in search of danger, finding nothing.
Dan Feng watches his beloved kneel low to the ground. Yingxing scoops something up from the grass before rising once more. He holds his hand out, a bone-white spider lily pinched between two fingers.
“For you, oh mighty Imbibitor Lunae,” Yingxing says smugly, tucking the flower behind Dan Feng’s pointy ear.
“I will treasure it always,” Dan Feng promises, touching the flower’s soft petals with careful fingers. He smiles then, pure and sweet. “Come closer and I’ll give you a reward.”
They kiss, and it’s like the very universe coming to life.