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Jing Yuan fumbled with his keys as he attempted to unlock the door to his home. The blood coating his hands made his fingers slick, and it took him a few attempts before he was able to pick the correct key and insert it into the lock.
He opened the door and staggered inside, clumsily shutting it with his foot. The agent didn’t even kick his shoes off, instead immediately stumbling towards the bathroom. Blood trailed behind him and he left behind crimson footprints on the floorboards.
Jing Yuan lurched into the bathroom, his gloved hands immediately found purchase against the pristine white marble of the sink. He clutched it tightly, trying not to collapse onto the floor.
It became stained with blood.
The silver haired man turned his gaze to look at himself in the mirror, amber eyes widening at the sight of himself bloodied and red.
Was it his blood or someone else’s? He can’t tell anymore.
The agent’s mission today was extremely brutal, and he regretted all that had happened during it.
Jing Yuan shakely turned on the faucet, attempting to wash his hands. The water turned red as he scrubbed off the blood. He felt sick.
The wound in his stomach continued to bleed profusely, but it no longer hurt. That was most definitely a bad sign, but the agent couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.
He just wanted to sleep.
Luocha wasn’t even home, so he could not find comfort within the arms of his husband. He missed his doctor.
Well, it seems as though Jing Yuan will need to deal with this himself before the blond came home. He didn’t want to worry the younger by having him find the agent in such a state.
The snowy haired man felt something well up in his throat, and he swiftly lowered his head to the sink. Crimson splattered onto the white marble of the washbasin, and the taste of iron coated his tongue.
Jing Yuan’s shoulders shook as the last of the blood spattered out into the sink. His breathing was ragging, and he rubbed a hand down his face.
That definitely wasn’t good.
Red stained the agent’s lips, making them sticky and sickening.
He missed Luocha so much.
Jing Yuan’s hands tightened against the white marble, he was beginning to feel light headed.
He needs to clean up.
The agent looked around the bathroom for something to clean himself up with, and he spotted a towel hanging from the rod attached to the shower door. It was white though, and Jing Yuan cursed at the fact that everything in their house was the bright color.
It’s fine, he’ll wash it.
Jing Yuan shakily stepped towards the white towel and grabbed it, blood immediately soaking into the fabric. He pressed the towel against the wound in his stomach, hissing at the pressure that came with it.
He’s tainting it all.
The white cloth turns to red, becoming dirtied with violence and the aftermath of. He doesn’t know whether it is him or his actions that are destroying himself from the inside out.
The agent stepped back towards the sink again, wanting to use the water to clean away the mess soaking into his skin and trying to infect his bones.
But something in the mirror made him stop.
Soft blond hair and striking green eyes were spotted behind the silver haired man, and his own golden eyes widened in shock.
“Luocha…?” came his raspy voice.
Luocha did not respond verbally, but instead he gave Jing Yuan a soft smile. His heart clenched uncomfortably in his chest, he could not pry his gaze away from his husband.
The older man’s breath quickened. Oh no, no no no no. He couldn’t let Luocha see him like this. Bloodied and ruined and staining the towels and tiles of the floor and the bathroom sink.
“Luo… I’m— I’m so sorry I didn’t… I didn’t mean to ruin the towels. I swear I’ll wash them.”
The doctor still didn’t respond, continuing to look at Jing Yuan with that tender expression. The agent watched as his husband approached him from behind and simply stood there, the two looking at the former’s bloodied figure.
Jing Yuan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Luocha was looking at him as though the agent were an angel, despite being covered in gore. Well, perhaps the man was just used to it, being a doctor and all. He’s seen worse in his everyday work.
He was starting to feel nauseous.
Jing Yuan pressed the white towel harder against his wound, letting out a choked gasp at the feeling of the scratchy fabric tickling his injury. What time was it? It was late wasn’t it?
The older man wanted to sleep. He wanted to fall asleep within the arms of his husband as the blond tells him that he’ll be okay, that he will always be there for Jing Yuan.
“Love… I missed you,” the silver haired man managed to choke out. Why wasn’t Luocha responding to him? Was he mad? But he didn’t look angry, he looked quite the opposite.
Jing Yuan carefully lowered himself to the floor, now sitting in the puddle of blood that had formed earlier. He laid himself down on the floor, too tired and weak.
He didn’t want to mess up the bed sheets, adding more to clean.
Jing Yuan shut his eyes, sinking into the cold of the bathroom tiles. He let out a sigh, he was still clutching the towel, “Goodnight Luo… I love you.”
The agent could feel himself being pulled into unconsciousness. He managed to get one final thing out before he succumbed to sleep, “Promise to take me to bed when this is all over…?”
The older man let himself finally pass out. He may have been laying in a pool of blood in the bathroom, but at least he was home.
At least he was safe. Safe with his husband.
Except, Luocha was never there. He hadn’t even come home yet. The agent only imagined it all.
But Jing Yuan did not need to know that.