It’s been three years since he left and it feels like no time at all.
Su Yin nudges his horse forward. The animal feels as tired as he does, tossing her head and trudging on, eager to get some rest and eat. He actually hoped to get home tonight but it seems his hopes are in vain. He overslept and was delayed further by yet more administrative paperwork, and when he finally started his journey home, he was hopelessly late.
It’s a feeling he is well acquainted with.
The civil unrest he’d originally left to fix with Li Gongxiang had turned into a flood relief, then a plague outburst, then a mudslide…it had felt like an endless fight against the natural elements and at some point, he’d been sure he’d personally offended the Heavens somehow to deserve such a punishment.
The Crown Prince had been with them for the first week and a half and then fled back to the Capitol and his easy life in luxury. Neither Su Yin nor Li Gongxiang had tried too hard to stop him. There was just too much work to do to wait on a spoiled brat, no matter how high his status, and since there had been no Imperial Edict to order them to take Zongzheng Shaoyu back…
In all honesty, Su Yin should’ve taken an honor guard with him but he hadn’t felt like it. He enjoys his relative anonymity and his ability to travel practically incognito and especially after everything he’s been dealing with lately, solitude had felt like a good idea. Now, half asleep in the saddle and dreaming of a hot bath, food, and sleep (and not necessarily in that order), he finds himself regretting his decision.
He’s jerked from his semi-dosing stage when his horse sidesteps suddenly to avoid bumping into someone and he startles, nearly falls from the saddle in his hurry to check if his inattentiveness has led to injury—
”Su Yin?”
For a moment, he isn’t sure he isn’t dreaming. It has been a long while since he last allowed himself to think about Jin Xiaobao and now he’s standing right there in front of Su Yin, beaming, beautiful.
”Su Yin, it’s really you!” Jin Xiaobao laughs and darts forward, wrapping Su Yin in a tight hug that leaves him lightheaded and his nose full of the subtle scent of Xiaobao’s favorite incense.
”You shouldn’t be so free with your hugs, Xiaobao,” he says, trying to cover the rasp in his voice with gruffness. ”Your man isn’t usually very permissible of things like that.”
”Psshh,” Xiaobao huffs, waving a hand, dismissive. ”He doesn’t get to say what I do.”
Su Yin raises a brow and gives him a flat look.
Xiaobao giggles. The sound reminds Su Yin of years gone past, the time before the rebellion, the time before Zongzheng Huai’en and the fall of the Jin family. Simpler times in so many ways.
”I’m serious!” Xiaobao insists with a laugh and grabs his forearm. ”He’s changed—I guess it has a lot to do with having a stable home and people who actually care about him.” He yanks a little, tilting his head. ”Come on.”
Where? Su Yin means to ask but instead, he sways.
”Su Yin!” Xiaobao exclaims, grabbing a tighter hold of him.
Su Yin closes his eyes and steals a moment of warmth, the sense of Xiaobao’s grip on his forearm and back, his solid frame pressing close. He shakes his head—to get rid of the dizziness, he tells himself—and says, ”My apologies—”
Xiaobao tuts. ”None of that. You are my friend. Come now, lean on me.” He squeezes Su Yin’s arm and nudges him along.
Xiaobao keeps chattering as they walk, a familiar murmur of light-hearted words that wash over Su Yin. He doesn’t have it in him to answer but it doesn’t really matter—and he’s quite sure that’s Xiaobao’s whole reason for it. Almost without him realizing, they have left the busy streets and entered a modest-sized courtyard and then Xiaobao leads him into a cozy room with a soft bed and pushes him down and—
Su Yin is asleep before he’s able to fully comprehend what happened.
He wakes up in an unfamiliar room smelling of achingly familiar incense. For a while, all he’s capable of doing is to lie on his back and stare at the pale green canopy above him, wondering just how in the Heavens did he end up in Jin Xiaobao’s bed.
Or. Well. Not in his bed. But in a bed in Xiaobao’s home.
And speaking of Xiaobao—
”Oh, you’re awake!” Xiaobao says, sounding genuinely happy. ”I seriously thought you’d sleep the whole day. Huai’en said you were completely exhausted.”
Su Yin turns his head to drink up the sight of Xiaobao kneeling at to a table next to the bed, preparing tea and fussing with a tray laden with snacks. He looks better than the last time they saw each other—more mature and settled, with a healthy glow on his cheeks and eyes bright with vitality, and with no trace of lingering pain.
”What—” Su Yin clears his throat and tries again. ”Where am I?”
Xiaobao grins. ”You’re an honored guest in our house!” He moves to help Su Yin sit up and pats him on the shoulder.
Su Yin blushes when he realizes he’s only wearing his underrobe. ”My, ah, clothes?” he says tentatively.
”Hm?” Xiaobao says, fussing with a blanket. ”Oh! Your robes were filthy. Honestly, Su Yin, did you crawl on the ground in them?” He shakes his head. ”Anyway, I took the liberty of sending them to be properly washed and mended. I checked your saddlebags but apparently, all your spare robes were in need of thorough cleaning.” He guides Su Yin to the table, pours tea, pushes several snack bowls closer. ”Eat! You must be starving! You can have a bath once I’ve made sure you’re not going to faint from hunger and dehydration.”
”I’m not going to faint—”
”Because drowning in a bathtub would be such an undignified way to go,” Xiaobao barrels right over him. ”I have spare robes for you to wear until yours have been mended.”
Su Yin closes his mouth with a snap. He doesn’t know whether said spare robes will be Xiaobao’s or some extra most households have for servants. He doesn’t want to know but he also can’t help how a small part of him feels thrilled by the mere thought of sliding on a robe that’s been on Xiaobao. He’s suddenly happy Huai’en isn’t here because he isn’t sure what his face is doing.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the door opens. ”Oh, you’re awake,” a flat voice says.
Su Yin stands to bow. ”Zongzheng Huai’en,” he says. ”My apologies for the sudden appearance and intrusion on your home. It wasn’t exactly planned,” he adds.
Huai’en inclines his head with a small sneer. ”Yes, I’m aware.”
”Play nice,” Xiaobao says mildly as he walks past with his hands full. ”Here, towels. And bath salts. And also hair oil—again, I don’t know where you’ve been but I feel like you’ll need it.” He sets the towels and jars and combs on a low table right behind a privacy screen, nods, and turns around with a bright smile. ”There! Do you need help with your hair?”
Su Yin isn’t sure what his face does but whatever it is, Huai’en’s eyes narrow and then he takes a couple of hurried steps to Xiaobao’s side, grips his chin in his hand, and plants a possessive kiss on his lips. Su Yin averts his eyes and turns slightly, momentarily contemplating leaving the room.
”Behave,” he hears Xiaobao chide in a low voice.
”I am,” Huai’en replies, sounding almost like…is he sulking?
Su Yin doesn’t want to look so he concentrates on drinking his tea.
It’s a very good pot of tea.
(He takes care of his hair all by himself, thank you very much.)
Had anyone told him three years ago that he would enjoy his time as Huai’en’s guest, Su Yin would’ve recommended they see a healer immediately.
But…he is enjoying his time. It’s a bewildering thought that leaves him utterly confused. He has long talks with Huai’en’s servants—or bodyguards, he isn’t quite sure of their status in the Jin manor—and spends an evening listening to Zhaocai telling him in excruciating detail about Jinbao and Que Siming’s adventures. Jin Xiaoyu is visiting her friends so he’s spared from what is apparently pointed interest in court life and Crown Prince Shaoyu. In the privacy of his mind, Su Yin raises a toast to Shaoyu and wishes him luck.
The Huai’en Su Yin left with Xiaobao years ago was a paranoid young man filled with sharp edges and a brittle veneer of civility, prone to violence due to his desperate inability to understand, let alone trust, simple human kindness. This Huai’en is still suspicious and has jagged, sharp edges, but he’s grown more stable and grounded, secure in his knowledge that he is loved and cared for as he is, not as a pawn for power or political games. He channels his violence into his sparring and butchers Su Yin during their go sessions with visible pleasure.
And then there’s Xiaobao.
During the past three years (and even before that), Su Yin resigned to the fact that he’s in love with his childhood friend. The realization isn’t a revelation itself—he’s been low-key aware of his attraction for a good while but without Huai’en, he probably never would’ve admitted it to himself. It’s not like he could do anything about it. Su Yin is part of the gentry, it’s his duty to take a wife and sire children, and as he’s never shirked from duty, he’s made his peace with it.
And yet…
He watches Xiaobao and Huai’en from the corner of his eye, steals a glance at Xiaobao’s rosy cheeks, and wonders, how it would feel to hold him, to cradle his face, to kiss him. And then he closes his eyes, disgusted at himself for coveting what is not his to have.
Sometimes, he thinks he sees Xiaobao’s eyes follow him with strange intensity.
He tells himself he’s wrong.
”How are your parents?” Su Yin asks, pouring tea for both Xiaobao and Huai’en. ”Still in the monastery?”
”Mn,” Xiaobao says. ”They seem to enjoy it. Baba says it’s the light of the Buddha shining on them but Mama says it probably has more to do with enough sleep, healthy food, and exercise.”
”And meditation,” Huai’en adds. ”Which reminds me…” his voice trails away and he raises an imperious brow.
”I don’t want to,” Xiaobao says with a pout.
”It helps you to moderate the lingering effects of your condition. You know that.”
Xiaobao huffs and stomps away in such a performative, achingly familiar way that Su Yin can’t help but smile. ”He used to do that when he was younger,” he says fondly. ”I had to bully and order him to do what needed to be done and somehow he still got away with doing only half.”
He glances at Huai’en and his smile goes stiff at his narrow-eyed look. Ah. Probably not a good idea to remind Xiaobao’s possessive husband of the time when Su Yin was in his life and Huai’en was not.
”There’s one thing I don’t quite understand,” Huai’en says. ”You could’ve driven me away. Properly, I mean. You could’ve finished me off and have him for yourself.” He tilts his head a bit, looking at Su Yin as if he isn’t sure whether to study him or get rid of him. ”Why didn’t you?”
”Because he wanted you,” Su Yin says dropping his gaze into his teacup. ”In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve only told him one lie: that you were…gone. He didn’t believe me.” He raises his head to look Huai’en in the eyes. ”You lied to him. You used him and hurt him and yet, he chose you.”
”You could’ve forced him.”
Su Yin shakes his head with a rueful smile. ”No, I really couldn’t.” Because I’m not you, he doesn’t add.
Huai’en lets out a small hum. ”The only way I’ve ever gotten what I want is to take it, no matter the consequences,” he says, eyes distant and voice slightly cold in a way that makes shivers run down Su Yin’s back.
They lapse into silence that, while not exactly comfortable, isn’t uncomfortable, either, and Su Yin wonders. ”You’ve changed,” he says later, after the tea is gone and the light outside has changed.
Huai’en huffs and opens his mouth, looking ready to snap out a sneering comment. Then he visibly reins himself in, takes a couple of breaths, and says, ”He makes me want to be a better man.”
”And are you?” Su Yin asks before he can stop himself.
Huai’en shoots him a cool look from the corner of his eye. ”Yes.”
Su Yin is pretty sure Huai’en would’ve loved to add Better than you, obviously. Perhaps it shows character that he didn’t.
Something changes after that day. Su Yin can’t quite put his finger on it except that it’s almost like Xiaobao is drawing closer to him. He’s always been a tactile person, draping himself over Su Yin in a show of easy camaraderie and friendship but after meeting Huai’en, it had changed. Now, the touches are back—but different.
It’s nothing big—a brush against his hand, a touch on the shoulder, a light nudge against his side. Each time Xiaobao looks at him with open affection that makes something stutter in Su Yin’s chest; wonder, perhaps. Longing, most certainly.
Huai’en doesn’t say anything. He watches with narrowed eyes and makes a point of kissing Xiaobao where Su Yin can see them, as if staking his claim even more thoroughly than their marriage and active marital relations already do. It makes Xiaobao roll his eyes and raise a brow in a way Su Yin doesn’t understand.
If it was someone else—if it was a woman—if it wasn’t for Huai’en—
But. That can’t be.
Can it?
”Xiaoyu is coming home in three days,” Xiaobao says, scanning the letter filled with cramped writing. ”She’s eager to see ’Su Yin-gege’ and wants to hear everything you have to say about Shaoyu.”
Su Yin raises a brow. ”She might not like what I have to say about him,” he says dryly. ”But sure.”
Xiaobao grins and nudges him, then stays leaning against his side in a long line of warmth.
Su Yin closes his eyes and swallows. It’s been two weeks and while he isn’t in a hurry, he should head home soon.
He doesn’t want to.
Which means he has to.
”I’m leaving tomorrow,” he says, setting his cup on the table. ”I feel like I’ve intruded on your hospitality for long enough.”
”Tomorrow?” Xiaobao asks, leaning away from him to frown at him. ”But—why?”
Su Yin gives Xiaobao a small, reassuring smile. ”You are still newlyweds. It’s time to let you get back to your lives.” He glances at Huai’en and is taken aback by the look in his eyes; it’s sharp, almost calculating and he doesn’t know how to interpret it.
”Su Yin—” Xiaobao says, sounding hesitant.
He stands up and nods at them both. ”It’s late. I’ll take my leave. Good night,” he says and turns to leave.
”Xiaobao,” Huai’en murmurs.
A hand grabs his and he freezes, but doesn’t turn until Xiaobao reaches out and gently touches his cheek. It would take a stronger man than him to hold back the breath that leaves him like he’s been punched.
”Why don’t you stay for a bit longer?” Xiaobao asks. His voice is soft, gentle, and his eyes are wide, and he tilts his head just so and Su Yi wants—
He swallows and closes his eyes. ”I don’t understand—” he says, pauses, shakes his head. The movement enhances the burning feeling of Xiaobao’s hand on his cheek and for a fleeting moment, Su Yin fantasizes about turning his head and pressing his lips on that warm palm. He ducks his head instead.
”What don’t you understand?” Xiaobao asks quietly. He’s still holding Su Yin’s hand and now he kisses his knuckles lightly before pressing in against his chest. His pulse races under Su Yin’s palm. He wants to press his ear on Xiaobao’s chest—no, he wants to press his lips there, drink up his heartbeat, the proof that he’s alive and well and there and—
”Is this a dream?” he whispers.
Xiaobao quirks a brow. ”Have you dreamt of this?”
”Yes,” Su Yin rasps.
Xiaobao hums with a small smile and slants a glance at Huai’en who’s still sitting at the table, a somewhat cool look on his face.
”What?” he asks, sounding petulant.
Xiaobao’s smile widens into a grin.
”What is happening?” Su Yin asks faintly.
Huai’en rolls his eyes. ”I never thought you to be this dense. What do you think is happening?” He raises a brow and then says, slowly as if he’s explaining things to a child, ”My husband is trying to seduce you.”
Su Yin is completely out of his depth. ”I’m sorry—what?” he says, looking from Huai’en to Xiaobao and back with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Huai’en has only eyes for Xiaobao, expression soft and helpless. ”I have learned…” his voice trails away.
For a short, deranged moment, Su Yin thinks he’s going to say ”to share” which is wildly out of character and possibly a sign of some kind of mental break.
”I have learned that my Xiaobao’s heart is big and generous,” Huai’en continues, still gazing at Xiaobao. ”His love is as endless as the sea, as wide as the sky, and as bright as the sun. The sea doesn’t care if you fill your bucket from it and the sun doesn’t dim if someone else enjoys its light next to you.”
Xiaobao’s eyes are wet and his cheeks flushed when he turns to face Su Yin again. ”Do you understand now?” he asks.
”No,” Su Yin says. ”But if I’m being honest, that’s never been a requirement when dealing with you.”
Xiaobao laughs—and then he kisses Su Yin.
How did I end up here? Su Yin wonders a short moment later—here on his back on the bed of his guest room, Xiaobao straddling him. Xiaobao’s face is flushed and he bites his lip as he slowly undresses Su Yin, tracing his fingers along his collarbones, down his chest, along the trembling arms.
”Have you ever done this before?” Xiaobao murmurs.
Su Yin shivers as his touch draws goosebumps along his sides. ”With a woman, yes,” he says, gasping at the teasing fingers dancing along the waist of his pants.
Xiaobao pauses. ”Oh. I’m the first one?”
”Yes.” It’s an admission and a plea all wrapped up in one.
Xiaobao swallows and something in his eyes turns dark. ”I’ll make it good for you,” he promises.
Su Yin loses the sense of time as he’s slowly peeled from his layers, both the clothing and mental kind, leaving him feeling vulnerable in a way he hasn’t experienced before. Xiaobao takes his time with each revealed patch of skin, kissing and brushing his skin until Su Yin feels like his whole body is one exposed nerve. He’s vibrating with a need for—for something, anything, as long as it’s Xiaobao.
”Anything?” Xiaobao asks because apparently, Su Yin said that aloud.
”Anything,” Su Yin whispers.
Xiaobao’s eyes dart momentarily to something a little to the side—ah, right. Huai’en.
A delicate hand shrouded in a familiar, billowing sleeve appears and holds out a small jar to Xiaobao who takes it and presses a kiss on the knuckles. Su Yin doesn’t bother looking, his whole attention on Xiaobao’s bare chest. It has filled back up since his illness and is now well-rounded with defined, sleek muscles tapering off to a narrower, yet soft waist and—oh. Xiaobao still has his pants on but his cock strains the front, pre-come making the thin white fabric nearly transparent.
Su Yin aches to touch. He doesn’t because he isn’t sure he’s allowed and he doesn’t want to presume. And then he forgets about all of that when Xiaobao’s warm hands first gently squeeze his thighs and then glide up to his hips, then down his groin and onto his ass.
”May I?” Xiaobao asks, looking him straight in the eyes.
Su Yin doesn’t trust his voice to reply, he merely swallows and nods.
The first touch is strange. Xiaobao’s hands are warm and his finger slippery as it circles his hole before pushing in. Su Yin breathes out and forces himself to relax. This isn’t something he’s ever done before but he can’t deny he hasn’t thought about it. Just…the other way ’round. He never imagined he’d be the one to—
He gasps as Xiaobao’s finger brushes against something sensitive that sends sparks and heat through his belly and then grits his teeth against a groan when the finger returns with intent. It takes no time at all for Xiaobao to reduce him into a whimpering, panting mess with just his fingers, vibrating with the need to come and yet craving more.
When the fingers disappear, he lets out a dismayed sound that transforms into a drawn-out moan when something way bigger slowly pushes in. Su Yin’s eyes fly open (when had he closed them?) and he grasps blindly at something—anything—letting out a whimper when Xiaobao twines his fingers through his and squeezes.
”Breathe, Su Yin,” Xiaobao says, sounding strained. ”You’re doing fine.” He’s trembling, hovering over Su Yin with his hair dangling over his left shoulder, a slight frown on his face, and—oh, he’s inside Su Yin, sheathed in tight, closer than anything has ever been and—
His breath is punched out of him when Xiaobao pulls out slightly and then pushes back in. He feels incredibly full and yet he wants more, deeper, closer, because this is Xiaobao and he always wants to be closer to him, in any way he is allowed. Xiaobao moves again and again, and the fullness starts to morph into heat and pleasure and then Xiaobao starts to move and all coherent thought flees Su Yin’s mind. Xiaobao is relentless and he lets himself float, flying apart under the clever ministrations of Xiaobao’s cock and hands. He comes with a groan that sounds a lot like a sob, Xiaobao’s cock deep within him and his hand around his cock. Xiaobao follows him after half a dozen frenzied thrusts, slumping on him with a shuddering gasp.
For a moment, Su Yin hears nothing but panting and his thundering heartbeat racing in his ears.
And then Huai’en asks, ”Are you quite done?” His voice is dark, almost a growl, and very much not directed at Su Yin.
”Yes,” Xiaobao says.
In a flash, Huai’en is behind him on the bed. He fumbles briefly with something, then Su Yin hears a slick sound and then he reaches around Xiaobao’s waist and yanks him backward.
It’s indecent and yet strangely beautiful, Su Yin thinks, to watch a fully clothed Huai’en fuck harshly into a naked Xiaobao. He’s soft and pliant, leaning into Huai’en’s chest, head lolling on Huai’en’s shoulder, and soft, spent cock glistening with oil and come. Huai’en’s arm curls around Xiaobao’s waist and his other hand reaches to hold his throat, and over his shoulder, his eyes nail Su Yin in place. This is mine, he seems to say. He can have you but you will never have him, not like this.
Xiaobao whines, reaches his one hand up to twine his fingers through Huai’en’s hair, and grips the arm on his waist with the other. Huai’en presses his face into the crook of Xiaobao’s neck and speeds up until he lets out an almost desperate sound and goes still.
Xiaobao and Huai’en stay in a tight embrace for a while before Xiaobao hums, turns his head, and nudges Huai’en. The two share a long, intimate look and then kiss so tenderly it makes Su Yin feel like an intruder.
”That was wonderful,” Xiaobao murmurs and pecks another kiss on Huai’en’s cheek before turning to look at Su Yin. ”How are you feeling?”
”I—” he says and then stops, unsure of what to say. Thank you? I love you? Please let me come back? Instead of saying any of that, he yawns.
Xiaobao giggles. ”Ah. Yes. We should probably let you rest.” He shimmies gingerly as Huai’en stands up looking completely put together and holds out a robe ready for Xiaobao. He slips it on with a small smile at Huai’en, then leans down to tug a sheet to cover Su Yin, cups his cheek, and presses a warm, lingering kiss on his lips.
”Goodnight, Su Yin,” he says softly. It sounds like the goodbye it is.
He wants to cup Xiaobao’s cheek in return but if he does that, he won’t be able to let go again. Instead, he leans into his touch for a moment before saying, ”Goodnight, Xiaobao.”
Xiaobao smiles, turns, and walks out hand in hand with Huai’en, leaving Su Yin on the bed, wondering if he truly was dreaming.
The next morning, Su Yin is up early. He does his morning ablutions and dresses in his robes, building up his usual layers with only a slight twinge of regret.
He isn’t surprised to see Huai’en in the courtyard going through sword forms.
”Your horse is ready,” Huai’en says, pausing his exercise. ”And you have packed provisions waiting.”
”Thank you,” Su Yin says.
Huai’en opens his mouth and then closes it. He seems to contemplate something and then come to some conclusion, nodding in the direction of the stables.
Su Yin mounts his horse, takes a look around the courtyard, and smiles. ”You are very lucky,” he says softly.
Huai’en doesn’t pretend to not understand what he’s really saying. ”I know,” he says simply. ”And I’m thankful for it every day.”
Su Yin ducks his head with a rueful smile. ”Thank you,” he says. ”For having me.” For tolerating me, he doesn’t say. For allowing me a morsel of your happiness.
Huai’en straightens his spine. ”Safe travels home, Su Yin,” he says. ”And—” he pauses, glances at the building where Xiaobao is still sleeping. ”If you happen to travel through here, let us know. You are welcome here.”
Su Yin blinks. ”I am?” he blurts.
Huai’en gives him a cool look from the corner of his eye. ”I have realized that giving my husband things he loves brings me…satisfaction,” he says. And with that, he turns and walks away.
Su Yin stares after him, then huffs and shakes his head.
He rides out into the early morning with a light heart and a smile on his lips.