openmisc | Aaron/Huaisang

Aaron/Huaisang

It's nightfall by the time Aaron finally sees this "Impure Realm" that they took him to. He's hungry. He's filthy. He's thirsty. And there's nothing around him that's familiar. He has cigarettes in the pocket of his jeans and nothing else of his own. No note. No information.

Only the vaguely unsettling feeling that he's been deposited somewhere...wrong.

These people look like Huaisang. The robes, the way they move...it's familiar enough that, before they could unsheath their swords, he's throwing his hands out, asking for Nie Huaisang to their complete bafflement. But they loaded him up and took him. Goddamn.

Hopefully they sent someone ahead.

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Aaron lets him do it, curling up to protect himself. He doesn't regret doing it, though.

And when he's done, he spits blood onto the floor and still doesn't regret it.

"Are they green or blue?" he asks to the dirt with a grin.

“He’s insane,” mutters the first man through his bloody nose. “He’s insane, just like all those goddamn Nies!”

He grabs Aaron by the hair, smearing blood into the blond strands, and yanks him up roughly.

“He’s still pretty,” says the other man, still vibrating with fury. “They’re blue, aren’t they? We’re going to make you blue and black all over by the time we’re finished with you.”

He spits in the man's face. "I can't wait to tear you apart," he says with a manic giggle until.they shove a gag in his mouth.

And when he's alone again, aching and hurt in so many ways, filthy and used, he still waits.

They didn't kill him. Couldn't kill him. Even now, the bruises heal.

So he waits. And he smiles that pretty smile.

They leave Aaron in the dark for hours, not speaking to him, not acknowledging him, talking around him when they pass by the room. They finally enter and grab Aaron by the back of the head once more, letting him see the glint of the blade in their hand before slicing off a lock of hair.

"Not so pretty now, are you?" the one with the knife sneers. They let him drop back to the ground and wheel around, swiftly leaving again to take care of their obviously very tense hostage negotiation.

It doesn't go very well, and it isn't long before there are shouts and screams outside the room where Aaron's being kept.

"It is the beginning of the end for you," he says, showing no fear in the face of the knife. If they slit his throat, the world would burn.

He would bet they are, albeit dimly, aware of that fact.

But he knows why they want the hair. Proof that they have him, proof for Huaisang, who will be here soon -

Ah, there he is.

He stands up and walks back from the door, settling down on the far wall.

He waits and he hopes and he doesn't let himself feel any fear.

Nie Zongzhu himself is the first one to step through the door of the kidnappers' hideout, small and full of righteous fury. By the time he makes his way to Aaron's room he's covered in blood from head to toe, not a drop of it his or belonging to any of his disciples that had followed him without question.

The hardened look in his eyes, unrestrained malice with a touch of madness at the edges softening the second he lays his eyes on his husband.

"Aaron." He rushes forward and kneels in front of him, quickly tearing at his gag and ropes to free him. "Aaron, my Nie Furen, Aaron, I shouldn't have let you go -- I didn't hear word of the plan until too late, and we couldn't find where they took you. I've killed them all, save the two morons that tried to ransom you to me." He just knew by looking at them that they'd been the ones to hurt his Aaron.

"Oh, baobei, let's get you home."

He eyes the door and then turns his attention back to Huaisang.

With a quiet sob, he wraps his arms around him, burying his face in his bloody robes. He can't actually cry. Not yet. But he can sit here and he can hold him and he can feel terrible.

He's only ever seen his husband strong and resilient under pressure. He grins and bears it, acts like it doesn't bother him at all, or when he finally does crumble it's violent and insane. But the clinging in desperation is something new, and Huaisang inhales with a pained sound and holds him tightly to him.

"I have you now, Aaron, I have you now." He raises his hand, runs it over his back and feels the broken and bruised flesh just under his palm, and then sits back with a firm look of concentration on his face. He closes his eyes and brings his fingers to his forehead, drawing down a long, golden line of qi that he then brings to Aaron's chest. "Inhale."

He's only this way with the people he loves, that he truly trusts. Vulnerability like this is reserved only for those he can give himself completely to.

So when he pulls away, he meets Huaisang's eyes and sniffs, but he does inhale, bringing it into himself.

"I'm - alright," he says softly.

“You’re not,” he says firmly, still pushing qi into his body to help with his ache and pains in body and soul. “But you will be. We’re going home - and I’m taking the men responsible for this and throwing them into the deepest dungeon the Impure Realm has.”

He stops the exchange of qi and grasps Aaron by the shoulders, looking into his beautiful eyes. “When you’re ready, they’re yours to deal with.”

Aaron takes a breath and brings Huaisang's hands to his face. "Do I look brave and fucking strong? I'm not walking out there a goddamn victim. Not again."

He smooths his thumbs over Aaron's slightly-gaunt cheeks. "You're brave and strong. You're no one's victim. You're going to take my arm and we're going to walk out of here and into our carriage, and you're going to hold your head up high."

He nods and steps back, raises his head and takes his arm, walking outside with him. He can feel the eyes of the others on him, but he doesn't flinch. He walks with him, all the way to their carriage.

Huaisang walks out proudly with his Nie Furen on his arm, looking as elegant as always in his cream robes covered in the blood of the men who would dare take what's his away from him. He butchered them with barely the flick of his finger, and his disciples lower their heads as he and Aaron walk by them and into the carriage.

The second the door swings shut and they're behind the curtains Huaisang pulls Aaron into his arms.

Aaron leans against him, silent as he tries to think of what he wants to say. Wants to do.

He makes his decision once they're back home.

"I want them to rot in the dungeon until I look better," he says. "I want them to see me as I'm supposed to look."

He can make that happen.

Huaisang's still smaller in stature than Aaron, but he feels bigger now. More protective than ever, more full of wrath than he's felt in a very, very long time. He could keep murdering and not feel at all sated.

"That's what we'll do," he tells him firmly. Then, more gently, "can I help you sleep? It will be a long journey home."

He nods, leaning against him, eyes closed. "Yes," he mutters, not afraid of taking this out.

They'd taken his love a great distance from the Impure Realm, probably thinking they were safe. Idiots, all of them. He'd had all the great clans searching for him, Lan Xichen personally leading the charge in the south. He'd been distraught, the leader of the Lans; he had a not-so-secret fondness for Aaron and of course found the fault in himself. Huaisang didn't try to soothe his worries -- if his guilt helped find Aaron faster, then let him have his guilt.

He turns slightly and places his fingers back against Aaron's forehead, pushing more and more qi inside of him, casting a spell to let his love finally rest.

Aaron sleeps soundly after that, all the way back home. It's a long trip, but he hasn't slept properly in days.

By the time he wakes, he's finally rested, his eyes no longer shadowed by circles.

"Are we home?" he murmurs, pushing himself up.

Aaron will find himself tucked into their own bed when he wakes, talismans to keep bad dreams away pasted on each corner of the four-post bed. Nie Huaisang isn't far when he does, just working on a table that he's turned into a makeshift office while he waits for Aaron.

When he hears him he practically knocks over his inkwell as he jumps to his feet and runs to him. "We're home," he smiles, sitting on the bed beside him. He smooths his hand down Aaron's arm. "How are you feeling?"

Aaron looks over to him with a smile, leaning over to kiss him. "I'm better. I could use a bath."

He kisses him back gently, cupping his face and stroking his thumb over his jaw. "I'll heat some water for you. Do you want something to eat? I've got congee and ribs, or if you need something lighter a broth."

"Bath first," he tells him. "And then I can think about food." His stomach is full of rocks and he'd like to enjoy being clean.

He knows it was bad for Aaron. The moment he laid eyes on him on that rotted floor he just knew they’d done awful things to the man he loved.

He was going to kill them all anyway, but the look in Aaron’s eye - they deserve to face his husband’s wrath. They deserve every morbid thing Aaron’s going to do to them, and they’re going to lie in wait until he’s ready.

When the water is warmed and the oils poured, Huaisang comes to Aaron’s side and takes his hand. “Do you need help, or would you like me to leave?”

He takes his hand immediately and then stands.

"Do you - how can you stand to want to even look at me, A-Sang?" he murmurs. "I didn't fucking want any of that."

But it still happened.

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