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Something is wrong with Zhuo Yichen.
It’s different from the yang energy imbalance; different from having his yao qi drained or malfunctioning. There’s a deep, dangerous hunger in him- one that’s pulsing and greedy, wanting to seize onto the people he passes and cling to them. Drain them of- something. He senses that he’s not safe, so he goes back to the bureau as quickly as he can. Bai Jiu can tell him what’s wrong. What to do.
“Xiao Zhuo gege!” Bai Jiu says when Zhuo Yichen finds him in the infirmary. “Wen jiejie was looking for you- your niece’s eyes are open.” That’s right- Wen Xiao had the baby. Zhuo Yichen shakes his head, dizzy. He’d forgotten. Bai Jiu leans out the open window and bellows- much too loud for his teenage lungs- “YING LEI!” From a building over, a blond head pops up and begins to make its way toward them. Zhuo Yichen’s eyes are stuck to Bai Jiu; can’t manage to look away.
“Xiao Jiu,” he says, suddenly struck by a need to pat him on the head. He’s not normally physically expressive without prompting, but he just needs… he needs. He raises his hand and strokes Bai Jiu’s hair, and a deep sense of satisfaction floods into him. Bai Jiu pauses, half turned back to him; his face goes slack. Zhuo Yichen happily pets his hair again, and Bai Jiu stumbles, face paling. Zhuo Yichen, curious, catches him by the arm to help him stand, and that’s even better- the contact sends warmth humming into him, driving away the muscle tension and headache that’s been plaguing him. He sighs in satisfaction, propping Bai Jiu up with both hands. Feels the flow increase.
“Xiao Zhuo daren?” Ying Lei’s voice comes from behind him. “What’s wrong with- xiao Jiu?” He hurries forward, hands attempting to replace Zhuo Yichen’s. Zhuo Yichen frowns and tightens his grip- relaxes when Ying Lei’s arm brushes his. That feels good, too. He releases Bai Jiu with one hand and wraps his palm around Ying Lei’s forearm; feels golden energy flood into him. Ying Lei blanches and shoves an open-palm strike into Zhuo Yichen’s chest, pushing him back more out of surprise than anything; there wasn’t much force in it. Ying Lei is left holding a now-limp Bai Jiu, eyes wide.
“Why did you do that?” Zhuo Yichen asks, brow furrowing. He feels bad again, suddenly- body aching and tight.
“There’s something wrong with you,” Ying Lei says, watching Zhuo Yichen warily. He hasn’t let go of Bai Jiu. “Doesn’t the dayao regulate your energy? I’ll go get him. You wait here, okay?”
“Why are you taking Bai Jiu?” Zhuo Yichen asks, frowning. He could have looked after him perfectly well here until he woke up. He would have stroked his hair while he was sleeping. He doesn’t much like the idea of Ying Lei going, either- he wants to touch his arm again.
Ying Lei doesn’t answer- just shakes his head, expression worried and earnest, and disappears out the door with Bai Jiu in his arms. Zhuo Yichen frowns, looking around the empty office. There’s nothing here for him now; but Ying Lei mentioning energy regulation has made him think of Li Lun. His courtyard is very near here.
He doesn’t encounter anyone on the way there, more’s the pity. He’s feeling a sharp need for human contact, intensifying more and more as the moments pass. By the time he makes it to Li Lun’s courtyard he’s almost dizzy with it, head pounding. Where is Li Lun?
He finds him in his usual spot- the patch of sun in the middle of the courtyard, obscured by the thick foliage but open to the sky. Li Lun glances up at him when he comes in and goes stiff when Zhuo Yichen immediately drops into his lap, legs straddling him. For a moment there’s a flood of relief- dark, indigo energy blazing into Zhuo Yichen’s aching body- and then it cuts off with a snap. Li Lun’s expression goes furious.
“What the fuck,” he says tightly, “do you think you’re doing.”
Everything hurts again. Zhuo Yichen’s brow creases; he leans more heavily on Li Lun, hoping that it will help. It doesn’t; there’s no relief. He’s starting to feel cold, sweat standing out on his skin. The idea of leaving the body contact he’s found feels impossible, but he burns with the desire to press close to someone who will help with the pain. Is there someone else nearby? Can he-
“Xiao Zhuo,” Zhao Yuanzhou’s voice comes, water to a parched man’s throat. Zhuo Yichen hears him hurrying into Li Lun’s courtyard; Li Lun is perfectly still beneath Zhuo Yichen, like a rock. A slow trickle of powerful energy starts to flow into Zhuo Yichen, regulated with steely control.
“He’s stealing energy,” Li Lun says as Zhuo Yichen presses firm into him, seeking the flow of qi. Zhao Yuanzhou doesn’t respond- just kneels at Zhuo Yichen’s side, placing a hand on his back. Zhuo Yichen lurches into him, clinging to his robes- but Zhao Yuanzhou’s energy is no more unguarded than Li Lun’s. Only a thin stream is available for him, just enough to keep him from the worst of the pain. He makes a noise of impatience, turning his head into Zhao Yuanzhou’s neck. It’s not enough. He starts to undo Li Lun’s robes.
“Is this your solution to everything?” Li Lun scoffs beneath him; but he allows it. Zhuo Yichen exposes his chest; leans in, pressing one hand against it while the other stays tight around Zhao Yuanzhou’s neck. Kisses Li Lun, who stays stiff and doesn’t kiss back. Zhuo Yichen’s brow furrows in displeasure; he tries to coax his mouth into responding. Li Lun leans back away from him slightly and Zhuo Yichen panics, pressing against him as tightly as he can before the influx of qi can withdraw. He seizes Li Lun’s face in both hands to kiss him and immediately regrets it when the flow of Zhao Yuanzhou’s energy breaks off. But a touch follows, on his back, restoring the transfer. He sighs in relief; rocks his hips against Li Lun. If they can dual cultivate…
Li Lun is unmoving beneath him; he’s often still, but there’s an unfamiliar tension to it now. It’s so frustrating; first Zhuo Yichen is denied the full force of his yao qi, and now his responses. He makes a low, complaining noise against Li Lun’s mouth- hears Zhao Yuanzhou speak, but doesn’t catch the words.
“Obviously,” Li Lun says, low and venomous against Zhuo Yichen’s lips. He raises slow, careful fingers to Zhuo Yichen’s robes. His movements are so deliberate; so thorough. Zhuo Yichen makes a low, pleased sound as his robes fall open layer by layer, allowing him to press his chest fully against Li Lun’s, skin to skin. It soothes a little bit of the raging hunger inside him, along with the careful streams of energy still passing into him. Zhao Yuanzhou’s hands help the robes off his shoulders, one always in contact with him to continue transferring energy. Zhuo Yichen tries to press Li Lun down into the ground to remove their pants, but he won’t go. Zhao Yuanzhou’s bare hands slide along the skin of his back, smooth and scintillating. He feels his cock jump in his pants.
“Please,” he whines into Li Lun’s mouth. Li Lun slowly- begrudgingly- lies down, and Zhuo Yichen hurriedly undresses them the rest of the way so that they can press all against each other. It feels like such a relief that he sighs shakily with it. Now if he can just-
Li Lun exhales in annoyance against his lips and finally begins to move. He pushes a hand down Zhuo Yichen’s body, sliding across his abs and around his cock. The pass of his palm leaves wetness behind, making Zhuo Yichen’s hips jerk forward in excitement. He presses one of Li Lun’s legs up and lines himself up, groaning as he pushes inside-
Zhao Yuanzhou’s voice comes, scandalized. “You let xiao Zhuo do that to you?” he says from behind Zhuo Yichen. Li Lun’s expression snaps back into focus from the looseness that comes over him when Zhuo Yichen first pushes inside; he shoots a glare past Zhuo Yichen.
“Why would you care?” he says, fuming. Zhuo Yichen loves his voice; his hips hitch forward of their own accord, the contact all around his sensitive cock soothing the burning need inside him. Zhao Yuanzhou’s broad hands spread to brace his shoulders, relief spreading from his palms. He feels like he can survive it, like this. Heart beating fast, he starts to fuck his hips forward.
—
Li Lun is not pleased.
Zhuo Yichen, the fucking idiot, has gotten himself poisoned or cursed or something again. It’s hardly the first time, but it still took Li Lun by surprise when he fell into his lap and started draining his qi. It’s a good reminder to keep his guard up; he shouldn’t be so comfortable with their qi transfers that he lets Zhuo Yichen start one without assessing his state first. He’s hardly stable, so new to his power as he is.
The problem, of course, is that Zhu Yan is here. If he wasn’t, Li Lun could just do what they usually do- pass their qi back and forth over and over until Zhuo Yichen’s unbalanced energies have stabilized. He’s not dangerous to someone with control over their qi, like Li Lun, though the amount of vaguely familiar qi twining through his meridians makes Li Lun suspect that Zhuo Yichen may have done something he’ll later regret to his little doctor. But regardless, he can’t hurt Li Lun. So it would be fine.
But with Zhu Yan here, everything feels fraught. His red, swirling yao qi is running directly into Zhuo Yichen through the transfer, mixing with Zhuo Yichen’s icy power and seeping irresistibly into Li Lun. Li Lun doesn’t want to let it in, but there’s no way to dual cultivate with Zhuo Yichen like this without allowing it, so he does. Tries to imagine that it’s just Zhuo Yichen’s qi- but there’s no escaping it.
It’s crushingly familiar.
He tries to ignore the tingling, buzzing sensation of it; concentrates on manipulating the transfer, on the now-familiar motion of Zhuo Yichen inside him. But he can feel Zhu Yan’s eyes: watching Zhuo Yichen, watching him. Acting scandalized when Li Lun lets Zhuo Yichen inside himself- as if Zhu Yan hasn’t done the same. It’s like he remembers all of Li Lun’s pride, and none of the ways he let himself yield for Zhu Yan. Ways he made himself palatable for him. He doesn’t remember; or doesn’t care. Li Lun can’t know which.
So he tries his best to ignore him. Ignores the familiar long drape of his hair; the glide of his hands, almost out of sight, along Zhuo Yichen’s back. The scent of incense, always a different mixture but somehow identifiable as originating from Zhu Yan’s body. The half-lidded look on his eyes as he watches Zhuo Yichen- watches him thrust forward, again and again, losing himself inside Li Lun. It would be easier if Li Lun had succeeded in preventing himself from liking it, but the act itself is undeniably pleasurable, even with Zhuo Yichen half out of it and not concentrating on Li Lun’s arousal. Li Lun exhales slowly and tries to concentrate just on Zhuo Yichen. On stabilizing him. After a few minutes of pleasure slowly building up inside him, he feels Zhuo Yichen release in a few short, stuttering bursts, pulsing come into him. Li Lun uses his qi circulation to brush away the heat that tries to build in his face at it. If Zhu Yan dares to say anything…
But he doesn’t; just takes Zhuo Yichen’s shoulders, turning him, and kisses him. Zhuo Yichen makes a long, low noise of desire, melting into the kiss- leans into Zhu Yan’s embrace. They kiss for a long few moments, Zhuo Yichen still resting inside Li Lun, before he pulls out, turning to Zhu Yan, hands running up his body. Zhu Yan is already disrobing for him; is he planning to also fuck him, right here in Li Lun’s courtyard? The idea sends a jittering excitement, a low dread, a deep pang of anger and hurt through him- he doesn’t know whether he wants him to or not. But Zhu Yan is clearly already planning on it regardless, so Li Lun’s feelings are irrelevant.
Nor can he ignore it. Zhuo Yichen moves too far from him and lets out a wounded noise as his body loses contact with Li Lun’s. Whatever ailment is making him drain people, it’s responding better to two streams of yao qi than to one, so Li Lun resignedly gathers his robes back up around himself and moves close enough to touch. Zhuo Yichen seizes Li Lun’s hand, not releasing Zhu Yan’s face for even a moment- he’s kissing him deeply, pulling Zhu Yan’s now bare frame down on top of himself. Li Lun looks away from his body; the familiarity of it hurts. Zhuo Yichen is kissing Zhu Yan, and kissing him, and kissing him.
“I’ll take care of you, xiao Zhuo,” Zhu Yan murmurs, making Li Lun’s brow crease. He turns away from the two beside him; fixes his gaze on the trembling leaves of his courtyard. Zhuo Yichen is making breathless, pleased noises. The sound of a gasp; wetness on skin. “There you go- good- just like that,” Zhu Yan murmurs, moving slowly and evenly. Zhuo Yichen is so eager with it- so loose and giving, Li Lun can hear it even without looking. Can hear the tenderness in Zhu Yan’s voice as he takes care of him. He’s not impartially helping him; he’s clearly fond of Zhuo Yichen. Clearly means this to be something more than sex. Li Lun’s chest feels tight and uncomfortable.
“Zhao Yuanzhou,” Zhuo Yichen gasps, hand clenching on Li Lun’s. Li Lun can feel the way that Zhu Yan’s crimson energy is gently regulating his system, the controlled, vivid influx calming the rage of hunger in him while Li Lun does the same. He unhappily tightens his grip on Zhuo Yichen’s hand, giving as good as he gets as Zhuo Yichen tries to crush his fingers. “There, there- yes-”
He’s so relaxed for Zhu Yan; so trusting. Gives himself so openly to him. It makes a deep, wistful bitterness wash through Li Lun’s chest. Was Zhu Yan ever so careful with him? Likely not- there’s nothing fragile about Li Lun, physically or otherwise. He doesn’t need to be cradled the way that Zhu Yan is holding Zhuo Yichen. He never needed that.
“Perfect,” Zhu Yan murmurs, low and fond. “You’re doing everything just right.” Unexpected heat pricks at the corners of Li Lun’s eyes and he clears it with his cultivation, blinking impatiently. Zhuo Yichen’s cries are getting louder- higher pitched. It hasn’t taken long at all, and the viciousness of the drain has already faded somewhat; a few more rounds of this and he should be less of a danger to himself.
“Yes, yes- Zhao Yuanzhou, yes, please, I-” Zhuo Yichen is moaning. Please. Who would say please to Zhu Yan, and assume that it would work? The itching is back in Li Lun’s eyes. He clears it. Listens to Zhuo Yichen come, moaning loudly, behind him. Keeps his eyes on the branches of the courtyard. He can’t help the way that his ears track the sounds of Zhu Yan’s movement; he’s still pushing into Zhuo Yichen, the sounds of their lips replacing Zhuo Yichen’s quiet gasps. The pattern of movement shifts; Zhu Yan coming, silent as always. It’s still so familiar. Li Lun’s mouth goes tight.
There’s barely a few seconds of reprieve before Zhuo Yichen’s hand starts pulling at him. He turns his head to assess- Zhuo Yichen is well flushed, eyes half lidded and long hair disheveled all over the ground, white locks sprawled out wantonly against the contrasting puddle of black. He’s looking at Li Lun hungrily; he obviously hasn’t had enough. He sits up, hair swaying behind him, and goes to move toward Li Lun- but Zhu Yan stops him, drawing him into another kiss. Li Lun looks away, chest tight; he doesn’t want to see it. When he looks back, Zhu Yan has arranged Zhuo Yichen onto his knees, already lining up behind him. Zhuo Yichen’s back arches in satisfaction as he pushes in, lips parting in a red O. His hand grips Li Lun’s; his body trembles. Quiet noises escape his mouth as Zhu Yan starts to gently fuck him.
Li Lun tries to keep his attention off them again- but this time, Zhuo Yichen is set on making his life difficult. Li Lun’s hand, his qi, isn’t enough for him- Zhuo Yichen reaches for his still-sensitive body, undoing the haphazardly closed robes to slide along the skin of his stomach. Li Lun tenses as Zhuo Yichen pulls at him, leaning in- he obviously intends to use his mouth again. Does he remember that Li Lun hasn’t come? Or does he just long for the contact, to assuage the pressure of whatever curse is afflicting him?
Li Lun hesitates for the briefest of moments. He doesn’t like the way that Zhu Yan is positioned behind Zhuo Yichen, able to see everything. He’ll know what Li Lun is feeling- even without the truth eye, he was always able to see through him. But he’ll know if Li Lun tries to hide from it, too, so there’s no point in it. Begrudgingly, heart fast, he arranges himself so that Zhuo Yichen can reach. Zhuo Yichen moans with pleasure immediately when he licks at Li Lun’s soft cock, dropping his head and supporting himself with a hand on the hard muscle of Li Lun’s thigh. Intense heat floods through Li Lun at the sensations- at the knowledge that Zhu Yan is watching. He should meet his gaze; meet his challenge. But he desperately, viciously does not want to. He watches Zhuo Yichen instead, trying to chase the burning warmth from his face. Trying not to let his breathing go uneven; let any noises escape him.
Zhuo Yichen applies himself thoroughly. It would make Li Lun’s life easier if he wasn’t any good at this, but it always makes his toes curl, his eyes fall shut. Even with Zhu Yan fucking him from behind, Zhuo Yichen is still concentrated enough to make the muscles of Li Lun’s abs tense. Long, slow sucks; gentle licks, wet kisses. The cool flame of his yao qi, teasing against Li Lun’s, mixed with that low-banked red fire. Zhuo Yichen’s control is coming back more quickly like this- his attempts at energy theft probably wouldn’t kill someone unguarded, at this point. Li Lun keeps his eyes closed and feels the pull of his energy; follows it to the source to see if he can identify its origin. He isn’t quite able to trace-
A slow drag of hand along Li Lun’s thigh; it follows a path where he’s the most sensitive, making him inhale sharply. Near the crease where his thigh meets his hip it slows to press firmly in, a pulse of tingling, hot energy that rachets his arousal higher forcing a quiet moan from his lips.
His eyes fly open. Lungs going tight in anger, he attempts to break Zhu Yan’s wrist; it withdraws before his strike can connect.
“What,” Li Lun says, tone low and deadly, “do you think you’re doing.”
“If you come, won’t it make it more effective?” Zhu Yan says, voice cold. Li Lun feels very small and very large at the same time- like a tiger caged, unable to use its claws to rip the entrails out of the person taunting it through the bars. His breathing stutters, for a moment. How can Zhu Yan talk to him like this? After everything.
“Don’t touch me,” he says, voice very quiet. Zhuo Yichen, still looking dazed, tries to raise his head- Li Lun places a careful hand on it, holding him in place. After a few moments, the need for contact is too strong; Zhuo Yichen falls back to what he was doing. It’s unlikely that Li Lun will come like this, but Zhuo Yichen can at least satisfy his desire for touch.
Li Lun holds Zhu Yan’s eyes, now; looks at him as he gently pushes into Zhuo Yichen, hands solicitous on his waist and back. Zhu Yan doesn’t drop his gaze the whole time- not until he’s coming, silent and controlled, inside Zhuo Yichen, hand stripping him in time with his orgasm and making Zhuo Yichen moan around Li Lun’s cock. Zhu Yan doesn’t look away from Li Lun; doesn’t bat an eyelash at his expression. It’s like he has nothing to say to him. Like this is nothing to him. This time, Li Lun can’t clear the sting from his eyes.
Zhuo Yichen comes not long after; it seems that this has done the trick, because he barely manages to press a satisfied kiss against Li Lun’s thigh before falling asleep. Li Lun, unpleasantly aroused, shifts him off his lap, doing up his robes and pulling his pants back on. He doesn’t look at Zhu Yan; when he speaks, it forces a swallow out of Li Lun’s throat.
“What are you playing at, with him?” Zhu Yan says, voice mistrustful. Li Lun shakes his head; moves a short distance away. Zhu Yan takes his time settling Zhuo Yichen- folding a robe to pillow under his head, covering him with another- then follows Li Lun. Li Lun glances at him as he approaches; at least he’s dressed himself. His stomach still turns over, regardless.
“Don’t fight with me here,” he says angrily, looking away again. “If you wake him we’ll have to regulate him again.” Zhu Yan waves a hand, and a barrier springs up between them and Zhuo Yichen, cutting off the sound.
“You’re planning something,” Zhu Yan says confidently. A quiet noise escapes Li Lun’s lungs without his intent, as if he’s been punched. He laughs, cold and angry.
“What do I need to plan?” he demands. “Tell me what I ever did without my hand being forced.”
Zhu Yan looks at him, expression cool. “You want me to answer that?” he asks. Li Lun’s stomach twists.
“Yes,” he snarls. “Yes, tell me what I fucking did. Tell me that everything I did after your Baize goddess stuck me in that cave to rot for eternity was unjustifiable.”
Zhu Yan looks at him quietly for a long few moments, not saying anything. Li Lun’s anger flares hotter and hotter inside him as the silence draws out- until at last, Zhu Yuan speaks. “And what about before?” he asks.
Li Lun feels it like a slap to the face.
He can’t speak for a moment. “You still think I shouldn’t have killed them,” he gets out slowly- disbelieving. “Zhu Yan. You saw what they were doing to us.”
“And that was reason to kill them?” Zhu Yan demands, voice quiet, shoulders squaring. He’s getting taller- drawing himself up in the way he does when he’s truly angry and not bothering to hide it.
Li Lun looks at Zhu Yan, throat working. Everything about him is so familiar- the sharpness of cheekbone, the fall of hair, the curve of eyelash. The color of his eyes, the deep brown-black a mask to hide the natural red beneath. The line of his nose; the pulse in his throat that Li Lun can make out from here, steady as always. Fast. The way he holds Li Lun’s gaze, mouth tight and eyebrows pulled together.
Li Lun has known Zhu Yan for so, so long. Everything about him is familiar. The only thing that’s strange is the way he’s treating Li Lun.
“Yes, it was reason,” Li Lun says. He needs to understand why Zhu Yan is acting like this. To make him understand. “I would have killed anyone to defend you,” he gets out, a vulnerable ache pounding in his chest in time with his fury. “To defend yao. The wilderness. That was the vow we swore.”
“No it wasn’t,” Zhu Yan retorts, immediate and sharp. “We vowed to protect. Not to kill.”
“And how would you have protected them, then?” Li Lun asks, throat tight and heart too fast. Anger pulses through him in waves, leaving him breathless. “Laid down to die at their feet?”
“Yes,” Zhu Yan says, voice suddenly raising. He looks truly furious, now- it’s showing on his face, like Li Lun has never seen before. “Yes- I would have died for it!” Li Lun’s breath catches; he tries to swallow. His fingers tremble, yao qi building in them without his intent- instinctively ready for confrontation. “Why would you choose to kill instead?!” Zhu Yan demands, sweeping a hand through the air. Wisps of red energy trail after it, ominous and threatening. He and Li Lun have always been mirrors of each other.
“Because I don’t want you dead,” Li Lun manages, unthinking. His lungs are sticking; he’s having trouble getting enough air. His eyes are oddly hot. “And I don’t want to die.”
“Sometimes you have to do the right thing,” Zhu Yan says, and Li Lun feels something sharp twist in his chest, vicious like a knife. He rocks back a half step.
“You want me dead, then,” he murmurs, disbelieving. A pained laugh escapes his lips. “That’s your solution. You want me back in that cave or dead, so that you can die for your humans without anyone to stop you.”
“You can’t stop me,” Zhu Yan says, face icy. Li Lun’s lungs feel like they can’t expand enough to take in a breath.
He stares for a long time, committing all of Zhu Yan’s familiarities to memory. “Fine,” he manages after a long while. “Fine.” He doesn’t look away from Zhu Yan’s face: familiar yet strange, creased in cold rejection of Li Lun. In rejection of his actions; his decisions; his right to survive. “You and I,” Li Lun says, stomach twisting so violently he feels that he’ll be ill. Nausea makes his pulse race in time with his fury. “We’re done.”
Zhu Yan looks at him, face unmoved, like he doesn’t understand what Li Lun means. Li Lun won’t show weakness in front of him- won’t let the heated itch at the corners of his eyes fall- so he turns to leave. Zhu Yan doesn’t call him back; Li Lun pauses at the edge of the courtyard, but no voice comes.
So he leaves.