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Xiao’s mouth tastes of sweet fermented rice wine. The room spins when he opens the door.
He presses his nails into his palms, hard enough to leave marks, and the pressure manages to rouse him slightly. When he sees Aether, he attempts to hide his fatigue, to mask the way his vision goes dark around the edges with every step. But Aether can tell anyway.
Aether turns from where he stands by the balcony of his chambers, moonlight making his hair look like spun silver. His smile falters a bit as he takes in the tired line of Xiao’s form, the way the adeptus leans all his weight against the doorframe.
“Hi,” is all Aether says.
“I thought you were in the harbor for… "" Lantern Rite preparations, Xiao thinks, not finishing his sentence. Speaking feels like a monumental task at the moment and he swallows only to find his throat is hoarse.
“Venti sent me. Said you’d be here,” Aether moves to sit by the edge of the bed, curling his knees beneath him. Xiao realizes that he’s already dressed quite comfortably, his hair loose in waves behind him.
The lights are already dim, Xiao thinks with relief. His head is pounding.
“Oh,” Xiao answers simply, turning to shut the door. The movement makes him dizzy and he stands there for a beat, hesitant and unsure.
Then Aether calls for him, softly, “Xiao, come to bed.”
Hearing Aether’s voice calling for him melts the defensive barrier around Xiao’s heart, a wave of tiredness finally settling into his bones. It all wells up in him then, the sheer exhaustion, the fatigue of constantly remaining vigilant and alert.
Suddenly, Xiao doesn’t want to think, to speak, to feel. Everything is too much.
He barely makes it to the edge of the bed before Aether grabs him by his palms, pulling him closer.
They’re both silent when Aether removes Xiao’s gloves one by one. There’s something reverent about the way Aether undresses him slowly, as if he’s erasing the years off Xiao’s shoulders, shedding the weight off his skin. He stops to admire the stretch of skin between Xiao’s thumb and forefinger, lingers on his wrist, his forearm.
Then Aether’s hands move towards his hips before he pauses, looking up to give Xiao a questioning gaze. He knows of Xiao’s anxiety with parting from his armor, how it made him feel helpless and bare.
But Xiao dips his head down once, a nod.
With the approval, Aether gently unhooks the talismans and the censer around Xiao’s belt, setting them carefully upon the nightstand. He takes the mask off with particular care, musing at it for a moment before gently running his thumb over the carvings. Finally, he tugs off the sash around Xiao’s belt in one smooth motion.
The weight around his waist feels remarkably lighter once Aether scooches back on the bed, patting the sheets in front of him.
He tilts his head once more. Sit?
Aether’s perceptiveness never failed to fill Xiao with devotion.
Okay, Xiao nods.
He loves how Aether doesn’t always feel the need to speak, how he seemed to be able to sense when Xiao didn’t have the words in him anymore. He knew there were times when Aether felt the same, struggling with a language still not native to his tongue. Sometimes, they both preferred the solace of quiet.
After all, there were other ways they could speak.
So Xiao turns and sits along the mattress, his back to Aether as he sets about shucking off each of his boots. He shivers a bit when he feels Aether hands on him again, around his collarbone. His fingers brush against Xiao’s cheek as he eases the heavy beaded necklace over his head.
With a tired sigh, Xiao leans back until he falls into Aether’s chest.
Aether hums a bit and they simply sit there like that for a minute, breathing in each other’s company. Aether doesn’t bother to ask things like “Are you okay?” or “What do you need?” because he already knows. The traveler was no stranger to battle, to grief, to the unbearable weight of something beyond his control resting in his heart.
It’s because he understands that Xiao wants to sink into him, the way a flower sinks its roots into the earth. He fits the back of his head into the crook of Aether’s neck, a plea.
Aether taps him gently against his shoulder and Xiao nods before Aether removes his shoulder piece with practiced ease. Then he slips the fabric sleeve off Xiao’s left arm and Xiao feels a bit less heavy, as if just Aether’s touch can absolve him of burden.
Xiao can’t contain the small relieved noise he makes in the back of his throat when Aether wraps his arms around his torso and pulls him closer.
He sees Aether raise both of his hands and flick them, palms facing outwards, before he curls them back around Xiao’s chest.
All done. Aether breathes into Xiao’s hair.
Xiao presses his fingers to his mouth, moving his flat palm towards where Aether sits behind him.
Thank you.
Xiao only feels Aether slip a hand into his hair, removing any tangles and pushing his fringe out of his face. His touch is cool as he hooks Xiao’s stray hairs behind his ears, freeing his face.
Aether combs his fingers through his hair in a way that almost makes Xiao feel like a child again, defenseless and longing. It almost makes Xiao forget how exhausted he is, muscles aching and shoulders tight.
He’s fought so tirelessly today, between visions of dreams and nightmares. A part of Xiao isn’t fully sure if he’s in a dream right now, but if he is, at least this one is pleasant. He imagines he is a butterfly, dreaming he is Xiao, who is held close to Aether. The butterfly has a million little daydreams about Aether.
He wonders if he’d be allowed to live in this dream forever, his spine curled against Aether’s chest with the world gone quiet save for the sound of their breathing.
Outside, the muffled sound of a lyre plays, a gentle lullaby, a lover’s oath.
Xiao cranes his neck so that he can face Aether.
Aether… He mouths his name wordlessly, unsure of what he is asking, but wanting it anyway.
Aether’s eyes curve in a tender smile and he gently nudges him until they’ve both fallen into bed, Xiao molded so close against Aether’s chest that he can hear his heartbeat. When Aether envelopes him in his arms and squeezes him so tight he could break, Xiao feels like he could cry.
He buries his face into Aether’s chest as if he can inhale the air directly from Aether’s lungs. He wishes he could, wonders what it would feel like to taste the world filtered through Aether like sunlight.
Aether pushes his hair out of the way and reaches to pull the soft covers over the both of them.
They curl beneath the clean downy blankets and linens.
It’s safe. Warm.
For the time being, Xiao feels like nothing could ever hurt them.
There is so much he wants to say in his chest, but instead, he traces his fingers up Aether’s spine, laces them around the nape of his neck. Aether melts into him with a sigh.
Aether’s hands speak for him as well.
He rubs at the space between Xiao shoulder blades and he says, I’m here.
He rests his chin atop the crown of Xiao’s head and says I’m not going anywhere.
Aether hooks his leg around Xiao’s hip until they’re intertwined like two roots from the same tree and he says I will not abandon you.
Affection fills Xiao’s lungs, strong enough to leave him breathless. If this is what Xiao fought so hard to protect, then he would fight ceaselessly for another millenia if he had to, just to feel Aether’s soft touch against his skin once more.
But Aether’s thumb brushing against his ear tells him: Sleep.
So Xiao allows his muscles to go limp, attempts to quiet that ever present voice in his head that seeks out danger. He allows himself to feel safe. It’s always much easier with Aether around.
Because tonight, he is not a monster, but just a person being held by someone he loves.
This time, when Xiao sleeps, he doesn’t dream.