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Ao Bing is not human.
Ao Bing is a dragon.
Ao Bing confines himself to his human form almost constantly, however. The people of Chentangguan might grudgingly accept a dragon standing at the side of the Hero of Chengtangguan, but they do not trust him. Ao Bing sees the way they glance at his horns first and face second. Not that Ao Bing would contest their suspicion, of course. At the end of the day, Nezha is the human who overcame the Demon Orb, and Ao Bing is the dragon who stole the Spirit Pearl. Worse, he nearly killed them all, even if later he helped save them. It's only natural that they do not trust him even after all this time, although they are polite so long as they are being watched by Nezha or his parents. That's more than enough. However, just in case, Ao Bing gives the townspeople no opportunity to discover whether their polite conduct will give way to less generous natures in private.
After all, he's caused enough trouble. He will not invite more.
Still, they permit him in their midst, horns and all. Outside Chentangguan, he is not even afforded that modicum of trust.
So he hides; the world is every bit as cruel as his shifu had warned him—but only sometimes. Not always, but often enough that Ao Bing hides as a matter of course. He covers his horns. He disguises his ears. He does everything he can to blend in among strangers, not a hint of his own newly reforged dragon scale armor visible.
But he cannot hide always.
He has a finite amount of energy, and besides, even if he could manage such a thing, it's not healthy for him to remain in a human disguise indefinitely no matter how much he wishes it were possible. That also stings—he is the third prince of the eastern dragon king, and he has been entrusted with all the precious hopes of his people. He shouldn't wish to be human. But the pride he ought to have as a dragon, as one of the ancient ruler of the sea and sky, has been consumed by years spent grappling with the fear that if he was discovered for what he truly was, he would be scorned and vanquished, and he has no way of recovering that pride.
Not that he deserves to recover it. In the end, he had failed his father and his people, been unfilial in order to do what was right. Ao Bing mourns it, but cannot regret his decision.
And so—even when he is not hiding, he hides.
Today, he hides in his first and oldest home: the sea.
Waves crash upon the shore; he can hear the sound reverberating through the water, can feel the tug of the tides sliding over his skin. Since he died for Nezha, turned his back on the Heavenly Palace of the dragons, and reincarnated, he finds one of the few places he can unleash himself is in the water.
Ao Bing rides the current, letting it whisk him further out to sea, twisting and laughing when a school of fish takes offense to his presence. He yields to them and drops out of the current, passing a pod of dolphins and a shark idly following another school of fish as he winds his way back towards shore. He's careful to stay deep enough that no soul will glimpse him except as a vague dark shape in the water. The last thing he desires is a call to arms by the local villagers when they decide to rid themselves of whatever demon lurks in their waters.
He settles on the sandy bottom, body coiled around itself, and gazes up at the sun overhead. It's soothing in some primal way that Ao Bing rarely indulges. His earliest memories upon hatching were the voices of his father, his shifu, and this: the dappled gleam of sun on water as Ao Bing swam to the surface, free as no other dragon has truly been in a long time.
Then, the golden glow above him grows brighter, more fierce, and Ao Bing freezes as Nezha's immense power washes over him, more potent than even the sea against his senses. Ao Bing recovers a second later, compressing himself until he's the Ao Bing he wishes others to know him as. He rises in an instant, standing on the waves, instinctively smiling.
Nezha greets him with his usual unrestrained grin in turn, and tugs him into an eager, biting kiss. Ao Bing returns it gratefully, soaking up Nezha's warmth even as Nezha makes him feel like he'll burst out of his skin.
"What were you doing down there, peeing to make the waters warmer?" Nezha laughs uproariously at his own joke.
Ao Bing doesn't answer, just sighs lightly and shakes his head. "Are you ready to go?"
Nezha shrugs expansively. "En, but only if you don't have any more dragon shit to do. Shifu can wait a little longer, it's not like I want to listen to him today anyways." He transforms into Taiyi Zhenmen and pretends to fuss over an imaginary jar of wine, guzzling it down and then making his belly shake before waggling his brows lecherously at Ao Bing. He drops the disguise and grins, waggling his eyebrows the exact same way as he loops an arm around Ao Bing.
Ao Bing should hide a laugh behind his fingers, can tell that's what Nezha is waiting for, but his heart is too cold in his chest.
"Dragon shit?" he repeats. A tumble of emotions emerge with the words.
Nezha is not stupid. Although he likes to play tricks, likes to tease, likes to leave Ao Bing flushed and off kilter, he's too clever to miss Ao Bing's discomfort. He's suddenly terrified that Nezha knows more about that tangle of feelings than Ao Bing does and pushes Nezha's hand away from his waist. Ao Bing's skin is cold without it.
He tries to recover by offering a fresh smile, which makes Nezha blink dark eyes rimmed with kohl back at him. "I'm fine," he says. "I was just—" He can't even think of a good lie. "Bathing," he blurts out. "I was bathing."
"Without me?" Nezha demands with mocking outrage. He tugs Ao Bing in close again, which Ao Bing reluctantly allows, and puts them face to face, Nezha's arms resting on Ao Bing's shoulders and tangling in his hair. His mouth is very close. On his fire-wind wheels, he's taller than Ao Bing. Nezha pouts. It's foolishly appealing.
"I'll bathe with you tonight," Ao Bing assures, seizing on the comment like it's driftwood in the ocean.
Nezha's face lights up, crinkling the tattoos on his cheekbones slightly. Ao Bing touches them. They're beautifully human.
Nezha's mouth presses to his own, graceless but hungry. Ao Bing licks his lips when they part.
"We should leave," Ao Bing murmurs. He wants to escape, clear his head. "Shifu will be waiting for us." Training will leave no room for anything else, especially not the self-consciousness that's been plaguing him.
"Then let's go!" Nezha exclaims, like it's obvious, and grabs Ao Bing's wrist to pull him in his wake.
~*~
Ao Bing doesn't clear his head, exactly. No matter how much he sweats, no matter how many demons are crushed beneath his hammers, he can't quite regain his concentration. Nezha slides inside him that night, though, the Spirit Pearl and Demon Orb awakening at the joining of their bodies. He tries to make that be enough to calm his chaotic thoughts. It works, or so he hopes, until he sees the claw marks on Nezha's back. When he touches them with a fingertip, mouth tight, Nezha smirks, eyes bright with fire.
He tries to coax a promise from Ao Bing that he'll do that again.
For once, when Ao Bing refuses, Nezha doesn't push the matter, but Ao Bing can't stop dwelling on it. He hasn't slipped like that before. Even when blood is hot in his veins, he's always been clear-headed, sure of his own form. Unsure whether his actions were the right ones, but clear-headed.
Nezha doesn't seem to notice his discomfort. Instead, he preens, open top exposing the bruises and scrapes left behind like they're badges of honor. To his shame, Ao Bing finds himself more temperamental than usual until they finally fade away.
~*~
The first time is chance.
"Ao Bing!"
Ao Bing and Nezha are not deities. Not yet.
They are powerful, skilled, relentless—they are the Demon Orb and Spirit Pearl.
But for all their power, there are others more powerful still, and sometimes, they...miscalculate.
Nezha's hand is outstretched as he attempts to grab Ao Bing's, only to get batted away by one of Gun's dark tentacles. Ao Bing can't see where Nezha ends up—the abyss around them limits Nezha's attempts to illuminate the battlefield, as though the very presence of such darkness is enough to repress the light. Ao Bing does hear the impact though, as rock grinds and gives way.
Ao Bing doesn't have time to shout Nezha's name before he's standing alone against Gun, and then he doesn't have time to think.
The demigod looms over Ao Bing, eyes shifting colors eerily as his tentacles lash out all at once. It takes everything Ao Bing has to smash them away with his ice hammers, heart pounding as he relies on his hearing and years of training to defend himself. There's no ambient water to draw on in the abyss, any more than there's ambient fire to draw on, and each time one of Ao Bing's hammers shatters, it's a little smaller when he reforges it.
"Ao Bing!" Nezha yells again, and then cries out when Gun uses the sound to pinpoint his next strike.
"Nezha!" Ao Bing shouts back, dodging three attacks in quick succession before flying towards Nezha's voice. Gun has kept them from touching, clearly wary of their joined power, and so they have been at an impasse for hours—unable to combine their strength, and unable to overcome Gun without doing so.
It's all they can do to stand against him.
Ao Bing spots a flare from Nezha's fire-tipped spear and exhales in relief as he reorients on Nezha's furious and determined face, but the spark is once more snuffed out before Ao Bing can reach Nezha. The abyssal darkness crushes them like a physical weight. Stymied yet again, Ao Bing halts midair and Gun chuckles. He attempts yet again to unleash his dragon form, but the change merely fizzes beneath his skin, as though the abyss knows that allowing him the freedom to transform will unlock more power and so keeps him confined. Frustrated, he whirls, facing Gun anew as he knocks away another inky tendril.
There is no escape.
"Shengshang!" Gun roars, and Ao Bing tenses at the anguish in his voice. "Shengshang, is this who you send to confront me, instead of coming yourself? I will send them back to you in pieces!"
Ao Bing screams when one of Gun's tentacles envelops him and drags him down into the heart of the abyss. His ice hammers dissolve into mist, and he bellows in a way that is entirely dragon, struggling to change shape. He scrambles to dig in claws, but the ichor that sprays leaves him almost paralyzed by pain.
His dragon scale armor is unaffected, fortunately, resisting Gun's attempt to crush him. Desperate, Ao Bing manages to drag the water out of his open wounds and combines it with what little water remains in the air, forming not a hammer, but a slender blade. Fighting through the pain, Ao Bing realizes he can smell smoke.
"Let Ao Bing go!"
Nezha streaks through the darkness, a falling star, and Ao Bing instinctively drives his makeshift blade through the tentacle, which falls away. Before Gun manages to bind Ao Bing anew, he rushes towards Nezha's side to stop him from making some foolhardy sacrifice.
But Nezha—Nezha is swifter. Fire licks at his skin, from his chariot, from his spear, from his sash, burning away the abyss. He cannot hear Ao Bing's words.
Ao Bing won't reach him in time.
Not as he is now.
Seeing Nezha's descent, something snaps free in Ao Bing, the cool power of the Spirit Pearl flooding his body.
A dragon's tail whips out, encircles Nezha, and saves his life.
Fire and ice explode on contact, and Gun's roar of pain cuts through the sudden thick mist, still more ichor splattering and making Ao Bing grit his teeth against the pain even as he protects Nezha from it.
As Ao Bing pulls Nezha close, Nezha's eyes clear, and his fire-tipped spear and the red armillary sash return to his side. Ao Bing can feel Nezha's scalding hands come to rest against his scales, burning away the ichor until Ao Bing can breathe again. The tentacles retreat as Gun releases a horrible primal noise.
But Ao Bing can't look away from Nezha. The Spirit Pearl aches for the Demon Orb, for the energy that resonates between them.
"Nezha," he murmurs.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Nezha mutters, and throws a rakish grin at Ao Bing that makes his heart skip a beat, despite the blood on Nezha's lips, despite the war they're waging, despite the risk. "Don't get your panties in a twist."
He thrusts his hand out towards Ao Bing, eyes narrowed as he stares down at Gun, whose body stirs in the depths. "Let's go."
Ao Bing takes it with acute relief, broad and strong and rough, and suddenly the abyss is no longer suffocating. It's energy, twining all around them, and Ao Bing is voracious.
This time, their descent isn't a fall. It's a plunge towards their prey, claws outstretched.
The last thing Ao Bing sees before impact is Gun's eerie eyes staring up at them.
"Shengshang..."
Ao Bing and Nezha leave ruination behind, and Gun's form exhales slowly, eyes closing as he slips away into the abyss once more.
They stand in the air, panting for breath, bloodied and bruised with aching bones. The resonance of the Spirit Pearl and Demon Orb grows disjointed, then fades away entirely as they return to quiescence. Slowly, with Ao Bing's tail still securing Nezha to Ao Bing's side as though Nezha doesn't have the fire-wind wheels at his feet, they rise out of the darkness and land lightly on the side of the canyon. Ao Bing stares into the abyss, wondering if he can see the movement of tentacles.
But Gun doesn't rise. There is no killing him permanently, but it will be several centuries before he attempts to make trouble again.
Nezha doesn't bother to check whether their opponent still stands—he shoves his arms into his pants and smirks as he stares at Ao Bing, red armillary sash winding around him like a cat demanding attention. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Ao Bing whips around to stare at him incredulously. He looks down at himself. He looks at the mountain that's been partially turned to rubble. He looks at the slowly dissipating abyss. He looks back at Nezha, who at least has the grace to flush.
He stands his ground, however, and half-scowls, half-pouts as he demands, "What?"
Fondly, Ao Bing shakes his head. "We survived," he agrees diplomatically. "But we should return swiftly, and report that Gun will be quiet for a time."
Nezha nods, and then wriggles slightly, like he's been holding himself back. "What is it?" Ao Bing inquires, narrowing his eyes. "Is something wrong?"
"I didn't know you could do that!" Nezha exclaims, and points at Ao Bing's tail. "Why didn't you tell me?! It's so cool!" He immediately tries to step closer and inspect Ao Bing's tail more closely, face alight with curiosity and eagerness.
Ao Bing turns scarlet with mortification, and his tail vanishes a moment later as he tugs at his clothing as though to be sure it's hidden away. He's exhausted enough that it takes more effort than he expects. "It's—I don't—" He feels the acute desire to hide away his horns, too, but he has no cloak to cover them. "It's not..." There's no word that fits there, at least not one that won't make Nezha look at him in confusion, or even worse, pity. "I don't like doing it. It's...uncomfortable."
"Oh." Nezha pouts more, disappointed. "Well, it's really cool... So if you ever wanted..." he wheedles, then purses his lips thoughtfully. "Maybe I can grow a tail. It seems useful. You've got one, Shen Gonggong can have one, that stupid ugly Monkey King has one..." He turns a few times, like a dog chasing an invisible tail, or like one might appear if only Nezha tries to create one hard enough.
Then again, Nezha can materialize four more arms, so perhaps he can.
"Once we've rested," Ao Bing placates, and reinforces his own words with a yawn that catches him off guard. Perhaps he can use this to distract Nezha so he doesn't have to face any more questions about any potential half-human, half-dragon, but wholly monstrous forms he can take.
Nezha smiles, and Ao Bing can't resist stepping close and kissing him. He's safe.
Ao Bing was enough this time.
Nezha responds eagerly, murmuring against Ao Bing's lips, "You know...no one knows we've won yet. We could take our time..." However, despite his amorous intentions, he can barely keep his eyes open. Ao Bing blinks, and somehow they're both on the ground as weariness slams into them. Nezha yawns, which makes Ao Bing yawn again, and then they're tangled on the ground, blood and breath mingling.
"...miss...tail..." Nezha mumbles against Ao Bing's skin, but Ao Bing is asleep before he can ask why Nezha cares.
~*~
"Let's go!" Nezha calls impatiently. He's on his fire-wind wheels, lazily making circles in the air. "I'm hungry!"
"When aren't you hungry?" Ao Bing replies, making Nezha screech with mingled outrage and delight at the teasing. He only pauses long enough to grab his cloak, raising the hood to securely cover his horns before he joins Nezha's side.
"Ugh, why do you need that?" Nezha complains. "It's just my parents. We probably won't even go into town."
"En," Ao Bing replies neutrally, but leaves the hood in place.
Nezha sighs heavily and flips upside down, squinting at Ao Bing. With the butt of his spear, he flicks Ao Bing's hood back, cackling as he takes off at full speed.
Ao Bing scowls at him, but it's only after he raises it once more that he dares to give chase.
~*~
Ao Bing waits until Nezha's deeply asleep before he slips away.
Well. He doesn't leave right away. He pauses, first, gazing down at the tangle of sheets that Nezha tossed off earlier in the evening as he'd complained about the heat. Nezha had insisted that Ao Bing sleep next to him, since Ao Bing's body runs considerably cooler than Nezha's, and Ao Bing hadn't put up a protest. Currently, Nezha is curled up in a ball, snoring slightly, and he looks like the child Ao Bing first met.
The sight makes Ao Bing smile.
He traces a sigil in the air, making sure that despite the burgeoning summer heat, the room stays cool. He also leaves the conch at Nezha's side, just in case something should happen. Only then is he satisfied.
As Ao Bing pads silently towards the door, though, Nezha stirs. He freezes, glancing over, but Nezha only grabs Ao Bing's pillow and buries his face in it, wrapping his arms around it so tightly that if it was actually Ao Bing, his head might have popped off. As it is, Ao Bing fully expects to return to an explosion of feathers.
Snickering, Ao Bing gently closes the door behind him.
A moment later, he's in the air, a much cooler breeze brushing along his scales as he heads for the nearest body of water. It's not the ocean, but there's a lake perhaps thirty li away that's large enough and deep enough that Ao Bing will be able to submerge completely. He lands by the rocky shore, and scents the water. There's fish here, and green growth, and the liveliness of the currents makes him snort, sending ripples across the surface. Perhaps in the morning, he'll sneak back with fresh fish to excuse why he was gone long before Nezha woke up. It'll be a suitable apology—Nezha likes fish in any form.
He slides into the water, which is colder than he's expecting. It only takes a few moments to find the underground river that's feeding the lake, though, and the three rivers that leave it. He noses at the entrance of the tributary for a few moments, joined by some curious fish who want to know why this stranger is in their midst, and then rises back to the surface, contemplative.
Ao Bing has never done this by himself before, and as he waits for the full moon to reach its apex, he's acutely aware of his isolation.
As a child, even under Shen Gongbao's strict tutelage, Ao Bing was given the day off to celebrate the summer King's Tide. It was one of the few days of the year he spent with other dragons, and even the magma at the heart of their palace seemed to quiet in respect for the festival.
The dragon palace may have also been their prison, but Ao Bing's father had always spoken fondly of the way dragons used to celebrate the King's Tide—the music, the laughter, the food, the gifts to family and friends as the sea renewed its cycle and bestowed its blessing onto the dragon king for another prosperous year. Ao Bing's father had overseen such celebrations many times before his imprisonment, and Ao Bing's eldest brother had often spoken viciously of how desperately he wanted to taste that glory. But all those traditions had faded away beneath the crushing weight of the chains that bound them to the monsters below the seafloor.
Except one.
Even in the darkest corners of the dragon palace, no force in the Three Realms could silence the song.
"What are you doing?"
Ao Bing startles, twisting in the water and sending a wave towards Nezha. There's a flash of fire and mist briefly ensconces Nezha before he waves it away. He's unarmed, with only the fire-wind wheels at his feet. There's a wrinkle on his cheek from where his face was pressed against the pillow, and his gaze is both sleepy and concerned.
Ao Bing yearns for him like Nezha is the sea. A dragon cannot drown in water, but for Nezha, Ao Bing would gladly try.
"The King's Tide," Ao Bing says.
Nezha blinks at him. "The what?"
"It's—it's a celebration, a festival," Ao Bing stammers. "For..." he realizes suddenly that he doesn't know the word for it in the human tongue. He's only spoken it in dragon. "For the—the, it's..." He repeats the word in dragon, trying to figure out what's close. "The...loyalty? No, the oath, I suppose. Between dragon and sea. Between king and people. We're—we're bound. But by choice? And so we celebrate." He snaps his jaw shut, fearing he makes no sense, and sinks down into the water.
Nezha considers Ao Bing for a moment. "Why didn't you ask me to come?"
"Eh?" Ao Bing blurts.
"Why didn't you ask me to come?" Nezha repeats impatiently. He wrinkles his nose. "Unless you have to be alone? Is it weird? Are you going to do something weird?" He leans forward, suddenly intrigued. "I definitely want to see it if it's weird."
"What? No! It's not weird!" Ao Bing defends, curling in on himself. "It's singing!"
At that, Nezha plops down on the shore, looking disgusted. "That's it? Then why didn't you wake me up? He flicks some sand at Ao Bing. "It would have been better than waking up too cold and not knowing where you'd gone."
"I left the conch!" Ao Bing protests, but Nezha just shrugs.
"I wanted to know what was so important that you'd left, and tried to make sure that I didn't wake up with your little cold charm," he replies.
Well. There's not much Ao Bing can say to that.
"It really is just singing," he says. "You don't have to stay."
Nezha's eyes focus on the slowly rising tide. The moon is almost at the zenith now, casting everything in silvery shadows. "When I was really little, my mother wouldn't allow me to go out and celebrate with everyone else during festivals. I'd scare the townsfolk. So we mostly celebrated by ourselves, but I could...hear them. Outside the walls. And I was angry that I couldn't be outside the walls too." He chews his lip for a moment, then continues, "And then, when I was training, I spent almost all of those two years in the painting with my shifu, only occasionally seeing my parents. They'd bring me festival food, and celebrate with me—we'd even spend some time doing fun things together. But I didn't get to celebrate with everyone else." He picks up a stone and throws it, and then wiggles his bare feet in the water that's lapping against his toes. Several seconds later, Ao Bing hears the stone hit something on the opposite shore and winces, but Nezha doesn't seem to notice. "I missed that. I hated being lonely. And I don't want you to be lonely either. You probably celebrated this with your family, right?"
Ao Bing swallows. Tears prick his eyes, but the acute loneliness is no longer choking him. "Yes. With all of the dragons."
Nezha nods, and finally looks up. His eyes are wet too. "Look what you made me do!" he scolds. "All of these eyes in my sand!"
"Sand in your eyes," Ao Bing corrects fondly, and Nezha grins crookedly at him. "Nezha...thank you."
Nezha waves a hand magnanimously. "Of course, of course! What do you need me to do?"
"Listen, please," Ao Bing answers, and rises out of the water, bathed in moonlight. Droplets are suspended all around him, twinkling like stars, as the water reaches towards that brilliant moon without ever being able to touch it. That yearning returns—for his family, for his people, for Nezha. With it comes that desperate hope that despite everything, the Five Constants and Four Virtues are his companions—and that even so far from home, the sea will yet look upon the lost dragon prince with benevolence.
Ao Bing opens his jaws in song.
~*~
"Here!"
Nezha drops the latest round of lychees he'd gathered into Ao Bing's lap, then attempts to steal the bowl of lychees that Ao Bing's already peeled. Ao Bing whisks it out of his way without looking up from his work. Nezha groans in complaint. "But you peel lychees so much better than I do!"
"Practice makes perfect," Ao Bing says primly, as he uses his claws to peel and de-seed the lychee in a matter of seconds. He drops it into the bowl.
"But I don't have claws!" Nezha whines, and dramatically drapes himself over Ao Bing, trying to flatten him to the ground. Ao Bing laughs at him, peeling another lychee. "Ao Bing! You're so mean to me!"
Before Ao Bing can start on yet another lychee, however, Nezha pulls Ao Bing's fingers, sticky with juice, to his mouth, and licks them clean. Ao Bing stares at him, mind blank and hardly daring to breathe. Nezha seems unconcerned by Ao Bing's stillness as he pays special attention to Ao Bing's claws, which makes Ao Bing's skin prickle. "If you're not going to feed me, I'll just have to keep doing this," Nezha announces.
Ao Bing grabs an enormous handful of lychees and shoves them into Nezha's mouth, trying to calm his racing heart.
~*~
"This is a terrible idea."
"We'll be fine!"
"This is—"
"A terrible idea, I know! Be quiet, we're almost there!" Nezha hisses, and elbows Ao Bing in the side.
Ao Bing doesn't feel it, thanks to the manacles on Nezha's wrists, ankles, and throat that keep his power contained, but he shoves back out of habit. Nezha yelps as he's bowled over into some bushes by the path while Ao Bing apologizes, slithering around to where Nezha disappeared. Nezha pops back up with several leaves in his hair and a branch clinging to his clothes.
"I almost lost an eye!" Nezha throws the branch at Ao Bing, but it just bounces off his scales.
"This was your idea," Ao Bing snaps, and wishes he could cross his arms and glower in his disguise. It's unseemly behavior for the Spirit Pearl, as Shen Gongbao had been quick to instruct him, but Nezha has the unique ability to make Ao Bing break all his own rules.
"And it's going to work if you just stop panicking!"
"I'm not panicking!"
The kohl lining Nezha's eyes make him look half mad as he widens his eyes, a rictus of a smile on his face as he grits between his teeth, "You're going to take me to the auction. You're going to pretend to sell me. And then we're going to kick all of their asses. It's going to be fine."
"We're going to collect information about the buyers and then we're going to kick all of their asses," Ao Bing corrects. "And maybe we'll be fine."
Nezha rolls his eyes and climbs out of the bush, thrusting the chain to which the manacles are attached against. Ao Bing wraps the delicate silvery metal around his wrist, still surprised that this modification of the heavenly pagoda is powerful enough to bind Nezha. At Ao Bing's look, Nezha narrows his eyes in suspicion.
"You better not be getting any ideas."
"None," Ao Bing lies, and Nezha elbows him again.
This time, Ao Bing does not push Nezha into the bush, just sighs heavily and starts to drag Nezha along like he's a sack of potatoes while Nezha howls and protests loudly enough to make birds launch themselves into the sky.
The closer they get to the auction, however, the more attention they garner. Demons, demigods, cultivators, monsters—the auction had already tempted hundreds of powerful individuals from across the land, and all of them want to catch a glimpse of the infamous Li Nezha and the naga that brought him to heel. A hand reaches out to touch him, and Ao Bing offers no warning. He simply bites off the offending limb.
Blood rushes into his mouth and he spits it out along with the arm. There's screaming, but everyone has backed away, a few even throwing themselves onto the ground in a bow as though to keep from angering Ao Bing further. His nose wrinkles in disgust, but without regret. The nian would have tried to gobble Nezha up if Ao Bing hadn't intervened, and the nian is one of the least dangerous creatures that will make its appearance at the auction. Better to make his opinion on interlopers clear from the start.
Nezha sneers at the nian, spitting on it, but Ao Bing jerks him away.
"Move," he growls, and keeps towing Nezha along.
Whispers precede them, and it's not long before Ao Bing has made it to the Auction Master, a jiuweihu with luminous golden eyes. She smiles and bows deeply. "Master Naga," she greets. "This little woman hopes that Your Excellency will find this humble auction fit to show your wares." Her gaze settles on Nezha, clearly hungry. Whatever price Nezha's head will fetch, the house cut will be exorbitant.
Ao Bing peers at her, trying to capture some of his father's essence as his voice drops into a rumble, and swaying the way nagas he's seen before often do. "But of course. Where better than the auction to sell such a prize?"
The jiuweihu's smile widens. "Thank you, Your Excellency. We're honored to have your custom. Please, this way—I hope you understand that inspections must be made. This little woman has seen too many fakes appear. One even almost passed the point of sale before the error was...accounted for." Her teeth glimmer in the light.
Ao Bing sneers, but acquiesces, and the jiuweihu leads them through the entrance, past first the people filing into the main hall, then past several demons clearly tasked with security, and finally into a private chamber down a quiet hall that's guarded by a stone-faced cultivator. She opens the door for them, and Ao Bing shoves Nezha inside before slithering in after him. The jiuweihu joins them and waves the cultivator in before shutting the door firmly behind them.
"This way, this way," she says cheerily, and guides Ao Bing to an array that's set into the floor. "Master Naga, we need only for you to bind him there, in the center." Her tails flick several times with eagerness as Ao Bing obeys, making sure that Nezha is secure.
Work complete, Ao Bing glances at the jiuweihu. "I have but one request. Please, respected Auction Master, at no time should you or your people attempt to remove the manacles with which the Demon Orb is bound. It is all that keeps him under control," Ao Bing warns, and the jiuweihu promises not to touch them before directing Ao Bing to the far corner, where a seat and refreshments have been set up.
"This may take some time," the jiuweihu apologizes. "Please, make use of this tea and food, and if there is anything you desire that is not offered, simply make your request to that humble charm, Your Excellency." She points to a paper doll. Then, with considerably less warmth, she turns to the cultivator and instructs, "Begin."
The man's stony face doesn't change as he begins to draw different sigils and seals in the air, activating the array on the ground in the process. Ao Bing's misgivings roar to the forefront of his mind as he watches Nezha's scowling face and tense body, but determination blazes in his eyes. Ao Bing wants to ask if it hurts, if this will leave any sort of scar, but Nezha turns to glower at Ao Bing as the cultivator works. He doesn't need to speak a word for his meaning to be clear.
I'm fine. Stop being a worrywart.
Even so, Ao Bing can't quite breathe, especially as the cultivator moves from simpler spells to more powerful attempts to break any enchantment that might be on Nezha, occasionally making him writhe or shudder. It's only after the cultivator's nearly exhausted himself that he performs the most basic of spells: to unlock one's essence.
Nezha's flame burns brilliantly, tangled with the deep scarlet glow of the demon orb.
The jiuweihu's face lights up. "It's really him. It's really Nezha, the Demon Orb."
"Yes," the cultivator confirms, greed finally breaking his stoic mask. "It's him."
"How did you capture him?" the jiuweihu asks eagerly. "How did you bind him?"
Ao Bing smiles with a show of teeth. "I request you grant me leave to keep my secrets, Auction Master. These are skills I have mastered from my father, who learned it from his father, who learned it from his father, and it is a secret I will pass only to my own son." He bows respectfully. "But, perhaps, if the Auction Master is satisfied from this sale, we can discuss future arrangements?"
The jiuweihu's tail flicks again. "Of course, Master Naga! I would be happy to come to such an agreement—exclusivity to the products of your hunts, perhaps?"
"Perhaps," Ao Bing agrees.
"Take him away," the jiuweihu snaps to the cultivator, and then bows again to Ao Bing. "If Your Excellency would accompany this little woman, I will ensure that you are taken to a prime location within the main hall where your privacy will be maintained but your view unobstructed."
"Very well," Ao Bing agrees, but he stares after Nezha for a moment as he's dragged off, starting to snarl curses until the cultivator snaps his fingers and silence envelops him.
"Such precious goods will not be damaged," the jiuweihu assures as she notices Ao Bing's stare. "Master Naga need not fear."
"Very well," Ao Bing repeats, but he knows it's more surly this time. Still, he turns his back to Nezha and slithers after the jiuweihu.
He hopes he hasn't just made a mistake.
From there, it's merely a waiting game. Ao Bing only pays half attention to the illustrious—and illegal—goods that are carted out and placed on display, no matter how frantic the bidding gets. He's here for one reason, and one reason only: Nezha.
That thought takes on a different tenor, however, when everything else has been auctioned off, and Nezha actually walks out.
Ao Bing recognizes, distantly, that the Auction Master is very good at her job. It's not enough just to have Nezha for sale; it's her duty to drive the price as high as possible, both for Ao Bing's sake and her own. Thus, she had taken matters into her own hands.
Nezha gleams in the light, a combination of oil and something shimmery, as though he's been sweating. The kohl around his eyes has been freshened. His hair is partly up in the twin buns and bound with brilliant red ribbons, but the rest of it flows free down his back, hanging down to mid-thigh, and has a lustrous sheen. His tattoos look like they've been accentuated in some way, and the ones on his face highlight the steely glare he's aiming at the audience. Even his manacles seem more like an adornment than a cage, with the way they've been polished and the chains draped artfully around him.
He is also almost entirely naked.
Ao Bing's jaw drops as he takes in the semi-sheer pants that are bound at waist and ankle by the same ribbons as are in his hair. They're the only clothing adorning Nezha, and somehow the sheerness of the cloth adds the slightest air of mystery, makes one wonder if his thighs are as powerful as his arms and chest.
Ao Bing knows they are, because he's had them wrapped around his waist as Nezha eggs him on, and the thought that anyone else might be wondering makes Ao Bing see red.
He stands and nearly stumbles, forgetting he's wearing the naga disguise. Luckily there's no one else in here with him. He gathers his control around him like his dragon scale armor, and sits again, fists clenched, as the Auction Master judges she has given everyone their fill of Nezha, and joins him on the stage.
"We have an unexpected addition to tonight's auction," she announces, voice cutting through the murmurs and inspiring perfect silence. "I suspect the Demon Orb needs no introduction. Let us begin the bidding at five hundred thousand gold."
Everyone in the hall begins falling over themselves to raise their own bids, and Ao Bing can hear several groups trying to combine their forces in an effort to make sure that they'll be able to get their hands on Nezha even after they're outbid as individuals. Bidding climbs to a million gold in a matter of minutes, but Nezha just bares his teeth in a smirk, which makes a hungry female voice moan in appreciation somewhere in the crowd.
Ao Bing's grip tightens so much that the stone beneath his fingers cracks.
It's too early to reveal himself, and yet Ao Bing would give almost anything to whisk Nezha off that stage, pull those four delicate ribbons free, and find out exactly what happens next. He covers his face, mortified at his own thoughts, but peeks through his fingers as Nezha glances up at the sheer veil hiding Ao Bing, huffing a derisive laugh.
The bidding intensifies.
Ao Bing sits on his own hands to keep from drawing any attention to himself. Their goal is the account book that the Auction Master keeps of every sale that has gone through the auction house over the decades, which means they need Nezha to actually be sold. Only then will they be invited into the jiuweihu's private office where money will exchange hands and the ledger will be filled out. Everything is for that moment.
One million, two hundred thousand.
One million, four hundred thousand.
One million, five hundred thousand.
One million, five hundred thousand, and five hundred.
One million, five hundred thousand, six hundred.
One million, five hundred thousand, six hundred and fifty.
One million, five hundred thousand, seven hundred.
One million, five hundred thousand, seven hundred, and thirty three.
Bidding stops.
Ao Bing exhales as the jiuweihu thanks everyone for their participation, and then gestures for Nezha to be escorted off the stage.
Before Nezha disappears into the wings, however, an enormous demon shatters the barrier keeping the bidders away from the goods, lands heavily on the stage, tosses away the man who holds the chain to Nezha's shackles, and picks Nezha up by the throat. "Why are we bidding?!" he roars, stirring the blood of the audience. "He has killed so many of us! Let us slaughter him here and be done with it!" He holds out a hand, and an axe materializes in his palm.
"Die!"
Instantly, chaos breaks loose.
The jiuweihu shouts something inaudible as a barrier abruptly interposes itself between Nezha and the blade. A half dozen more cultivators and demons leap onto the stage and start battling without it being apparent as to whether they're supporting or attacking the first demon's assault. Some individuals start to try and escape the auction house before they're caught in the crossfire. Dozens more people begin placing bloodthirsty bets as to who will win, and how. There are shouts for Nezha's head, too, but none louder than the beautiful and seemingly human woman who shrieks for her winning bid to be honored.
Nezha ignores them all, twisting free of the demon's grip and moving like a flickering flame across the auction house even without his powers, always just out of reach. "Don't!" he shouts, in an apparent attempt to keep his attackers away, but Ao Bing knows the truth of it; if this situation is brought under control, they can still accomplish their mission.
Ao Bing's fingers dig into the stone again as he breathes heavily. Restraint. Calm. Order. Patience.
Nezha will be fine.
Nezha defends against a lethal blow, but only barely, and his muscles strain from keeping the chain between the manacles of his wrist taut.
Blood drips onto the floor.
Ao Bing roars, shattering the roof of the auction house as he transforms.
There's no self-consciousness; there is only Nezha, hurting, and Ao Bing, defending him with all of his might.
He breaks the seal on Nezha's power, and then it's not just chaos that's loose.
It's the Demon Orb and Spirit Pearl.
Nezha blows out a breath as everyone stares at the pair of them, mouths agape and eyes wide. "Since when do you rush into decisions?" he complains, as the red armillary sash, fire-wind wheels, and fire-tipped spear are released from Ao Bing's hold and leap eagerly towards their master. Nezha is still gleaming softly in the light, but his eyes are brighter still. There's a savage grin on his face. "I would have been fine."
"Capture them all," Ao Bing rumbles. He knows he doesn't sound apologetic.
"And find the account books later," Nezha agrees. "I'm sure the Auction Master will be happy to bargain."
Ao Bing raises his claw, setting up an impenetrable ice barrier half a li outside the auction house, and with a whoop, Nezha dives into the heart of the brawl.
~*~
Nezha won't stop laughing at him, even as they hand off all of their captives and the account books, even as they tumble into the bed that Nezha's had since childhood, even as Ao Bing finally unties those four red ribbons, letting Nezha's hair spill across the sheets and his thighs wrap around Ao Bing's waist. Ao Bing kisses him until his mouth is as scarlet as those ribbons, biting bruises into his skin with teeth too sharp for a human, slit pupils in vibrant eyes—Ao Bing wants to imprint Nezha on his senses.
"Don't do anything that stupid again," Ao Bing pants into Nezha's ear as Nezha arches, strong throat exposed. Ao Bing runs his claws down it and Nezha shudders. "Please."
"What, you're saying please?" Nezha scolds, grinning up at him, irrepressible even now. "Aren't you a powerful dragon? Can't you make me agree?"
Ao Bing groans and pins Nezha down. Nezha could get free, if he wanted, but the fact that he just encourages Ao Bing to get closer, teasing him, taunting him, mouth inviting kiss after kiss just like his body invites Ao Bing inside, makes Ao Bing's concentration shatter as he takes Nezha completely.
Nezha sleeps deeply that night, but Ao Bing's thoughts won't focus. He keeps holding his hands up in the dim moonlight, and watching as the faint iridescence of dragon scales plays beneath his skin.
Heart in his throat, he wraps himself around Nezha and holds on.
~*~
"There you are," Nezha announces, and throws a rock at Ao Bing's head.
Ao Bing doesn't move, and it misses by a hair's breadth. Nezha's angry then. Really angry. Otherwise he'd just break a mountain over Ao Bing's head and have done with it.
Ao Bing closes his eyes and attempts to return to meditating, hoping that Nezha will get the hint. It's a foolish hope, because Nezha lost all sense of propriety with Ao Bing long ago.
It had seemed like a gift at the time, but Ao Bing wonders now if it's a curse.
When Ao Bing won't even look at him, Nezha grabs Ao Bing's arm and jerks him around. Ao Bing glares up at him, but Nezha just thrusts the note Ao Bing left into his face. It's crinkled and creased where Nezha's clearly crumpled it a hundred times and then smoothed it out. "Well?" he demands, like Ao Bing hadn't agonized over writing it for hours before setting brush to parchment, like Ao Bing hadn't tossed aside a dozen poorly worded versions, like Ao Bing had wanted to leave.
Nezha,
I have duties to attend to elsewhere, and will be gone for some time. I will return as soon as possible.
Stay safe, Baobei.
Ao Bing
"Well?" Nezha demands again. "What the fuck is this?"
Ao Bing gently pushes away Nezha's hand. "I believe that I communicated my intentions quite clearly." A spark of frustration leads him to add cruelly, "I have personal matters to resolve and you have no right to demand answers of me. Leave."
With that, he turns back towards the cliff side, inhaling the scent of the ocean, and tries to ignore Nezha's stare at his back.
"I don't have the right to demand answers of you?" Nezha repeats in disbelief and ill-contained rage. "What the actual fuck? It's me! Did you really think that you could just run off like a—a wuss and not talk to me? And that I would be fine with it?"
Ao Bing's not surprised when Nezha grabs him again, palms alive with fire that Nezha can't, or won't, contain. Ao Bing knocks his hands away, though, and leaps to his feet, furious that Nezha won't stop pushing, that he slips beneath Ao Bing's skin as though there isn't a single scale in the way.
"Since when do I require your permission to do as I see fit?" he snaps. He adds with a sneer, "It's not as though I disappeared without a word. I promised I would return."
Nezha's hands bunch into fists, and he leaps across the intervening space with a blow that Ao Bing blocks effortlessly. It's sloppy and wild, but it sets something off in them both.
It's the first time they've fought all-out in some time. No matter the seriousness of their sparring, there's still a line both of them refuse to cross, but now that line in the sand has been washed away by a wave, along with their reason.
Neither of them is at their best, though. Within seconds they're both bloody and bruised, snarling curses and insults, fire and ice tangling together until the cliff side partially gives way, thundering into the ocean below. Ao Bing and Nezha don't even slow, but they're too well matched. Ao Bing slices through the red armillary sash over and over as Nezha crushes every single piece of ice Ao Bing musters, and it's not long before the fight turns dirty.
Nezha grabs Ao Bing's hair and tries to bite him until Ao Bing threatens to take his eyes out with his nails. Ao Bing flings Nezha out into the ocean like he's a persistent monkey climbing all over him, and Nezha tackles him to the ground and tries to break a few rocks over his skull. The combined power of the Demon Orb and Spirit Pearl at war leads to gaping holes in the ground to which neither gives any care.
But Nezha—Nezha is Nezha, and if Ao Bing truly wished to get away, he would have fought nastier, flown further, hidden better.
And Nezha gets the red armillary sash around Ao Bing's throat, wrist, ankles, until Ao Bing's forced to arch his back to keep from choking.
Panting, Nezha drives the fire-tipped spear into the ground a hair's breadth from Ao Bing's throat.
Ao Bing slowly relaxes, catching his breath. Nezha leans against the spear. "Are you done being a coward?"
"Yes," Ao Bing rasps, annoyed.
The red armillary sash releases him, and he collapses the rest of the way to the ground. Nezha studies him for a moment, as though he expected Ao Bing to renege, so Ao Bing sweeps Nezha's feet out from under him. Nezha lands heavily with a little wuff as his breath escapes him, and Nezha kicks Ao Bing in the ribs. It's not hard enough to break any bones, so Ao Bing takes it as the olive branch Nezha intended it to be.
Ao Bing can't look at Nezha as he says, "I lost control. At the auction house. I saw you get hurt and I... I lost control. That's why I left."
"Bullshit," Nezha replies companionably, and kicks Ao Bing gently again.
Ao Bing narrows his eyes and lifts his head. "What do you mean, bullshit."
Nezha rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his hand. "I mean it's bullshit. I mean sure, you hate when I get hurt, but I get hurt a lot. I've gotten hurt a lot worse than that before."
"Not while you couldn't defend yourself," Ao Bing is swift to point out. "Not while I couldn't do anything to stop it."
"Except you did stop it. You transformed, and then you broke the seal on the holy pavilion manacles, and then we kicked everyone's ass." Nezha's gaze is so intense that Ao Bing shudders and looks away. "I knew it!"
Ao Bing's head snaps back towards Nezha. "Knew what?"
"This isn't actually about rescuing me at all! You could have freed me without transforming, but you did on instinct because you were pissed and afraid as fuck that I got hurt and you know that form is more powerful, and so you changed, that's what this is all about!" Nezha sounds part accusing, part bemused, and part delighted. Nezha kicks Ao Bing for the third time, and Ao Bing is too stunned to kick back. Nezha laughs at him. "You're always so fucking weird about your dragon form!"
Ao Bing's temper flares. "Well you try spending your whole life hiding your true nature, leaving your people behind because that's the only way to save them, and every day you are reminded over and over and over that you are a monster, that it doesn't matter that your father sacrificed everything for you so that you could be the Spirit Pearl because everyone will turn on you given the least opportunity, and then you find out it's true that even people whose lives you saved, if they think you're a monster, they will always choose to revile and loathe you!"
Ao Bing takes a gulping breath, feeling hot tears slide down his cheeks. "And you try rarely being around your kind anyways because it wasn't safe, and then you—after everything your father sacrificed, everything you owe your people, you turn against them. You turn against them, and—and do the right thing, and your father looks at you like you're the monster. You're not dragon. You're not human. You're alone." Ao Bing pulls the hood of his cloak up over his face, hiding his horns. Hiding his tears.
"You're not alone," Nezha murmurs uncertainly after a moment. "You're Ao Bing. You're my friend. I—I love you."
Ao Bing swallows down tears and shakes his head. "I just hate it," he says tiredly. "You'll always be the human who overcame the Demon Orb. I'll always be the dragon that stole the Spirit Pearl. And every time I'm in my real form, I..." He trails off, and wipes at his eyes.
"I told you before," Nezha insists. "I told you when we first met that it didn't matter. That you decide what you become. That you're the Spirit Pearl, and so you're as human as anyone."
Ao Bing exhales. "But I'm not." Before Nezha can get upset, he holds up his hand, trying to find the words to explain it. "I don't regret my path. I might have been fated to be a monster, but I am the Spirit Pearl. If I cannot serve my people as I once hoped, I will still serve as many people as I can, regardless of whether they view me as a threat. That is why I cultivate, and why I...why I cultivate with you." He flushes faintly, glancing up at Nezha from beneath his hood.
Nezha moves forward, but Ao Bing hasn't finished. He raises his hand again and sits in silence for a long moment, trying to put his feelings into words that Nezha can understand. Finally, he lifts a hand to his hood.
"After I defeated the Demon Orb and ensured it was destroyed by the Heaven-sent curse, I was supposed to have my horns removed," he explains, and pushes the cloth back. Nezha's eyes widen. "They told the world that I was not human, and would never be human. And so I would lose them, even though any proud dragon displays their horns and would rather die than lose them. Everything dragon about me needed to be subsumed or destroyed, so I could save the very people I was desperately trying to distance myself from, for their protection, and mine. And somewhere along the way...all of my weaknesses became my dragon heritage. All of my strengths were from the Spirit Pearl. Even now, I...if I lean too heavily on what makes me a dragon, I...worry I will fall prey to my own vices."
Nezha stares at his face, and suddenly the red armillary sash has Ao Bing bound tight. "Eh?!" he shouts. "What are you doing?!"
Nezha pins Ao Bing to the ground and straddles him, squishing his face between his hands. "Ao Bing is Ao Bing," Nezha announces fiercely. "Ao Bing is a dragon and the Spirit Pearl. Ao Bing's weaknesses aren't because he's a dragon, and his strengths aren't because he's the Spirit Pearl. Ao Bing is Ao Bing, and his weaknesses and strengths are his own. His power is his own. His heart is his own. His soul is his own. I love Ao Bing, and no other, because you are you."
Ao Bing's heart cracks quietly, the shards of pain falling away. He can't cover his eyes, so he has to squeeze them shut and turn away in order to keep his composure. He can't manage to speak though, sobs thick in his throat.
But Nezha is insistent. "I wouldn't love Ao Bing if he asked someone to take his horns from him." He plants awkward kisses at the base of each, and Ao Bing's composure shatters.
He cries silently for several moments. It's the ugly kind of tears that leaves him with dirt smudged on his face and snot running down his face. It's the kind of tears that can't be stopped, simply have to be excised before they drown one's heart.
Awkwardly, Nezha wipes them away with the end of the red armillary sash. "I made you embarrass yourself," he apologizes, but even as the sash releases Ao Bing once more, he doesn't move. Nezha doesn't seem to mind, just pulls Ao Bing up into his arms like a particularly unwieldy doll, and hugs him close.
"Are you ready to come home?" Nezha asks gruffly. Then, in a softer voice, "Come home. Please."
The last of Ao Bing's tears fall, and he nods.
~*~
Ao Bing and Nezha are in the hot spring when Nezha says, "I want to make you feel so good that you can't stay human."
Correction: Nezha is lounging in the hot spring. Ao Bing can't stand the heat for more than a few minutes, and so he's sitting on the edge next to Nezha, breathing in the steam and debating a rinse from one of the buckets of cooler water.
When Nezha speaks, Ao Bing kicks the bucket over, and a torrent of ice spills across the ground. He yanks the cloth higher up in his lap, like Nezha hasn't seen Ao Bing naked hundreds of times, like Nezha isn't usually the reason he's naked thanks to a variety of excuses. His whole body turns scarlet, the flush spreading down his chest and thighs, and Ao Bing has never wanted to drown Nezha more.
Nezha doesn't seem to care how close he's coming to death. He rests his elbows against the edge of the hot springs, puts his head on his hands, and cackles at Ao Bing's mortification. Scowling, Ao Bing throws a handful of ice chips at Nezha, who lets the ineffectual weapon hit him and plop into the steaming water. Nezha's uproarious laughter almost lets Ao Bing relax; it's just like Nezha to tease Ao Bing about things no one else could fathom joking about.
Except it's not a joke, because Nezha adds thoughtfully, "I want to see what it'll take to make your tail appear."
"Nezha!" Ao Bing gasps.
"Since when are you a blushing maiden?" Nezha accuses. "And come on, wouldn't it be fun?"
Ao Bing can feel his hair standing on end like an offended cat. "Absolutely not," he says stiffly. "The fact that you could even suggest such a thing is unacceptable."
"Eh?! Ao Bing—" Nezha begins, but Ao Bing is already leaving, body burning in ways he's not going to think too closely about.
He tries to leave, at any rate. Nezha is in front of him with inhuman speed, and his palm slaps the wall right near Ao Bing's head to prevent him from disappearing. They're of a height, but Nezha's presence has always loomed large in Ao Bing's mind, and somehow as Nezha crowds Ao Bing against the wood paneling, he surrounds Ao Bing completely and makes it impossible to look away.
"I want to prove to you that being a dragon isn't weakness."
Ao Bing swallows, but demands sharply, "What, and you think some sex will cure it?"
Nezha tilts his head. "No," he replies, like it's obvious. "But it's a fun way of proving to you that the world isn't going to end if you lose a little bit of control, don't you think?"
It's...a surprisingly astute answer. "And if I say no?" Ao Bing asks, a little mollified.
"Then we'll play jianzi and make it so the rule is you can't use your legs, only your tail," Nezha answers. Ao Bing blinks at him. Nezha's given this thought. A lot of thought. "Or maybe we can just go fly together. Or maybe I'll practice throwing things at your scales. Or—"
Ao Bing doesn't have his sleeve to cover his face, so he settles for raising his hand, eyes darting to the crook of his elbow, like that will disguise his flush. "And you decided to lead with having sex?"
"Well," Nezha says like Ao Bing's the one being absurd here. "I figure we'll do all of them eventually." He waggles his brows. "But sex is the most fun, and there's no risk anyone but me will see you until you're more comfortable. Plus, I..." Nezha drops his head to Ao Bing's shoulder, mumbling something.
"What?"
Nezha's breath is hot on Ao Bing's collarbone as he repeats himself, but he's not any louder. Ao Bing threads his fingers into Nezha's hair as Nezha's hands slide down the wall and wrap around Ao Bing's waist. Ao Bing's not trapped any longer; he's being held. "Baobei," Ao Bing murmurs. "Tell me."
"Your dragon form is still you!" The words burst free, and Nezha nearly lifts Ao Bing off his feet as he yanks Ao Bing closer still. "I want to prove it! That it's not weakness! That Bingbing is strong and—and p-pretty a-and the only person I've ever needed!"
Nezha looks like he's about to combust. Ao Bing feels like he's about to combust. Neither of them can look the other in the eye.
"Bingbing?" Ao Bing repeats after a few moments of studiously gazing at the stars. Xuanwu is particularly fine tonight, with Dou and Nu twinkling brightly.
"You call me Baobei sometimes," Nezha mutters against him. "And technically I'm older anyways."
Ao Bing huffs a laugh. "Alright."
Nezha's lips trace Ao Bing's collar bone. "Alright, alright? You'll do it?" Now that Ao Bing's given nominal permission, Ao Bing can feel the eagerness in Nezha's muscles. His hands are openly palming Ao Bing's ass, thumb brushing against the small of Ao Bing's back.
"Yes, but," Ao Bing begins, but not slowly enough.
Nezha's got him up in the air a moment later as Ao Bing squawks, but there's nothing for it except to hold on, unless Ao Bing wants to be dropped, naked, in front of the other guests at the hot spring. Nezha lands lightly on the windowsill of their room, somehow jiggling the shutters so that they open, and then the pair of them tumble inside. Nezha beams, proud of himself, and Ao Bing grabs the first item he can get his hands on and throws it at Nezha's face. It's one of Ao Bing's boots, and Nezha knocks it away with a lecherous smirk.
"Not on the floor," Ao Bing protests just as Nezha throws him onto the bed. Ao Bing has had enough of being hauled around like a sack of potatoes, so when Nezha tries to straddle him, Ao Bing dodges.
"No," he snaps, and rises from the bed with his chin lifted as Nezha covers his face with a pillow and groans like a child, kicking his heels against the bed.
Ao Bing lets him suffer, brushing and braiding his hair neatly before tying it off with one of Nezha's ribbons. He pretends he doesn't notice Nezha's hot gaze on him, but he catches glimpses of Nezha out of the corner of his eye. Nezha's hair dries in soft waves and his stare is unfaltering. His body is tanned and strong, tattoos bright against his skin.
If the sea is Ao Bing's first home, Nezha is his second.
Nezha isn't the only one that needs.
Ao Bing rises, braid over his shoulder, and Nezha's already reaching for him.
They tangle together, Nezha straddling Ao Bing's hips. "Can I..." he begins, but doesn't know how to finish that sentence.
Can I touch you? Can I make you shudder? Can I make you beg?
Can I make you feel so good you can't stay human?
"All of it," Ao Bing promises recklessly. Staring up at Nezha's furrowed brow, he thinks he's earned a little bit of recklessness. A little loss of control. He smiles. "All of it."
Nezha nods, but hesitates. Neither of them knows where to start, until Ao Bing impulsively drags Nezha down into a kiss.
It's a frantic clash of tongues and teeth that relaxes only when the worst of their nerves have settled. It's hard for Ao Bing to fear when Nezha kisses him as he always does; forthright and playful, teasing and taunting and tempting in turns, and as Ao Bing responds, Nezha's pace slows, until their mouths are meeting languidly, syrup sweet.
Ao Bing sighs against Nezha's lips as his hands start to wander, first admiring Ao Bing's horns, then tugging on his braid, then finally trailing lightly down Ao Bing's chest and across his ribs. Nezha has minimal patience, but he's stubborn to a fault, and so he manages to restrain himself to the slowest build of pleasure. Ao Bing's fingers stroke Nezha's back and sides, tracing the muscles until Nezha bites at Ao Bing's lower lip and grinds against Ao Bing's stomach.
"You're distracting me," Nezha complains. "I should..." His face lights up, and he whistles sharply. The red armillary sash leaps up from where it's folded in the corner, and binds Ao Bing's wrists together above his head.
Ao Bing glances between the red armillary sash and Nezha's smug face. He strains against it, skin prickling. It doesn't budge, not that Ao Bing expected it to. But it's strange and moderately uncomfortable to choose not to fight it, to relax into the hold not because he's given up, but because he's choosing to lay down his weapons before the fight even begins.
Closing his eyes, Ao Bing nods once.
Nezha's breath leaves him in a rush in the quiet room. "You sure?"
"Yes."
As Ao Bing opens his eyes again, Nezha lifts Ao Bing's braid and kisses the ribbon tied at the end of it. Then he pulls it free, dropping the ribbon to the floor. Ao Bing's braid unravels, and Nezha combs his fingers through the locks. "I—like your hair," Nezha mutters. "I like it when it's loose." He glances at Ao Bing from beneath his lashes, and Ao Bing's chest squeezes unexpectedly.
"Oh," Ao Bing breathes, and then bites his lower lip as Nezha just stares at him. "Aren't you...ah."
Nezha presses his lips to Ao Bing's jaw, kissing down his throat as Ao Bing sighs and turns his face to the inside of his arm to give Nezha more room. He leaves dozens of tiny red marks over Ao Bing's jaw and throat as he bites down and sucks, tongue sliding over the skin caught between his teeth. Once Nezha seems satisfied by the constellation he's left behind, he returns to his favorite spots, the ones that make Ao Bing groan and gasp as the line between pleasure and pain becomes muddled. There's a spot right above Ao Bing's collar bone that makes Ao Bing's hips rock against Nezha's ass, and Nezha tortures it until Ao Bing's toes are curling.
When Nezha finally pulls away, his eyes are heavy-lidded and his lips are glistening with spit.
"Kiss me," Ao Bing demands.
Nezha's only too happy to obey, tongue sliding along Ao Bing's and flicking lightly against his lips. Ao Bing manages to catch Nezha's lower lip, biting it briefly before Nezha winds his fingers into Ao Bing's hair and tugs his head back. Ao Bing yields grudgingly, but Nezha rewards him with more kisses before wriggling down Ao Bing's stomach to his thighs.
Ao Bing lifts himself up, abs tensing as he opens his mouth to ask. Nezha gives him a look and tweaks one of his nipples. "Ah, ah," Ao Bing grunts as he falls back to the pillows.
"Stop thinking," Nezha scolds. "I know what I'm doing!"
Ao Bing opens his mouth, this time to protest, but Nezha's mouth is burning hot against one of his nipples, the other being pinched by his fingers while his nail strokes the tip, and all of Ao Bing's words fall away. Moaning softly, Ao Bing arches his back so that Nezha can shift between tormenting Ao Bing's nipples and creating a new map of marks across his chest.
What interrupts his thoughts most, however, is being bound. Every time Ao Bing attempts to latch on to some way to counter Nezha's relentless assault, he finds himself mindlessly straining against the red armillary sash, and Nezha finds some new way to make Ao Bing shudder, rooting him in his body in a way Ao Bing hasn't experienced in—years.
Possibly ever.
"Nezha," he gasps. "Ah, ah, ah!" He squirms a little, but Nezha's weight keeps him pinned as he nibbles Ao Bing's chest. He's half-hard, and Nezha keeps grinding against him, making pleasure spark beneath his skin. Ao Bing fists his hands and presses his face back against his arm as he rocks up against Nezha.
Fresh pain makes Ao Bing moan, but he doesn't recognize the source until Nezha tilts his head and glances up at Ao Bing's arms.
"Bingbing, surely you're not trying to escape already," Nezha teases, and Ao Bing lifts up his arms until he can see them properly. Blood drips from his palms, his claws having dug into the soft skin of his hands. Nezha pulls Ao Bing's arms close to him with the red armillary sash, and he cleans away the blood with his tongue, never looking away from Ao Bing. His tongue is as hot as the rest of him, making Ao Bing's fingers twitch, and he catches a strand of Nezha's hair to pull him close.
He can't stand that intense pride in Nezha's eyes, like achieving so small a crack in Ao Bing's armor is worthy of such hunger.
Nezha kisses him, laughing against his mouth. Ao Bing loops his bound arms around Nezha's head, trying to steal more kisses, but Nezha slips away. He strokes Ao Bing's side absently, contemplative. His gaze flickers from Ao Bing's horns, to his claws, to his mouth, and then to every single mark he'd left behind. Ao Bing swallows.
"Pretty," Nezha says, more to himself than Ao Bing, and Ao Bing blushes furiously.
He'd hide, but Nezha's already questing to see whether he can get more noises out of Ao Bing by playing with his nipples. He can, as it happens, because they're puffy and painfully sensitive in a way that keeps short circuiting Ao Bing's brain.
There's no escape.
As Nezha flicks one of them with his fingers, however, he stops, tracing an odd shape across Ao Bing's skin right beside his nipple. Ao Bing wrenches his eyes open, and his lips part as he sees the faint pattern of scales. They're dotted across his body, in fact, and when Nezha bites down along Ao Bing's hips where the scales meet a bruise Nezha left, Ao Bing jerks and cries out. Nezha does it again, tongue almost sliding beneath one of the scales and Ao Bing twists, trying to get more, trying to get away—he's not sure of anything except that if Nezha does it again, he might die.
So of course Nezha does it again, and again, and again. He follows those iridescent scales down to Ao Bing's hard cock, which twitches as Nezha's nails rake along the crest of his hip, and then further still, investigating all sorts of spots Ao Bing can't believe are sensitive, like his ankles and the backs of his knees. Nezha even parts Ao Bing's thighs and finds a particularly large patch of scales on the inside of his left thigh, and doesn't stop touching them until Ao Bing's shaking.
"Please," Ao Bing rasps. "Please, please, please."
Ao Bing moans as Nezha looks up the length of his body, possessive and pleased. His control is fraying, and it's impossible to remember why he clung so hard to it in the first place when Nezha stares at him like Ao Bing is all that is glorious and good and delights in each new monstrous feature.
Nezha draws a single fingertip up the underside of Ao Bing's cock, and Ao Bing attempts to thrust up into the touch.
Without breaking eye contact, Nezha kisses Ao Bing's belly, his hips, and then the head of Ao Bing's cock, tongue darting out. Ao Bing can't bear to keep watching and presses the red armillary sash binding him against his eyes, struggling to catch his breath.
Slowly, Nezha wraps his lips around the head of Ao Bing's cock and sucks. Ao Bing writhes, but Nezha's hands are firm on his hips as he works his mouth down over Ao Bing. Nezha knows the best way to touch Ao Bing's dick to make him desperate, just like he knows how to touch the rest of Ao Bing's body, and Ao Bing bites his lips hard enough to draw blood. He hardly notices that they're far sharper than normal.
"Please, please, more, Nezha," Ao Bing babbles, the iron tang thick on his tongue. Nezha's pace doesn't change, but as Ao Bing gets close, he pulls off and tugs Ao Bing's balls until the impending orgasm recedes. "No!"
"I want more of you," Nezha breathes, nails digging into Ao Bing's thigh.
Ao Bing jolts, gazing down at Nezha in shock, only to throw his head back with a shout as Nezha takes him in his mouth again. He works Ao Bing up thoroughly, but again refuses to let him come. Ao Bing pants, trying to hold his scrambled brain together, when Nezha starts a third time. With something close to a sob, Ao Bing feels something significant give way inside him, need and Nezha overriding everything else.
Nezha suddenly jerks away, coughing, and Ao Bing can't figure out why at first. When he does realize, the mortification cuts through the pleasure. His—he's—while Nezha had him in his mouth—Ao Bing—
"Wow," Nezha observes, voice rough. He curiously inspects Ao Bing's cock, noting the ridges along the entire length and the decidedly inhuman bumps. There are no scales to be found, but the skin is faintly opalescent. Nezha squeezes it gently, and can barely wrap his fingers fully around it. "So this is how dragons do it, huh?"
Ao Bing wants to wither and die. "I'm sorry," he blurts.
Nezha stares down at him as though Ao Bing causes his unspeakable aggravation. Rolling his eyes, Nezha takes Ao Bing's cock back in his mouth, fist tight around what Nezha can't swallow.
Ao Bing's eyes roll back into his head as he arches.
This time, when Nezha pulls off just as Ao Bing is getting close, Ao Bing is fully prepared to riot. "Fuck!"
"What?" Nezha asks innocently. "Don't you want me to ride you?"
Ao Bing's mouth snaps shut. Mute, he nods once, fearing that any more enthusiasm will ruin him completely. Nezha bares his teeth in a smirk.
"I thought you'd say that."
Nezha must have been planning this for some time, because it takes no time at all for him to find the oil and open himself up, licking his lips as he admires Ao Bing's prone body. He straddles Ao Bing's hips, lining up Ao Bing's cock and works himself down until his ass is flush with Ao Bing's body, raw noises spilling free of his lips that only serve to make Ao Bing harder and more desperate. Ao Bing finally gets a good look at Nezha's cock, which is bright red and leaking all over Ao Bing's stomach.
Ao Bing's not the only one that's been driven to the brink.
Nezha rests his hands on Ao Bing's chest, hips shifting as he tries to find the most satisfying way to fuck himself. Ao Bing gives him ample encouragement, which mostly consists of moaning and rolling his hips up into Nezha every time Nezha tightens around him. "Nezha, Baobei please, fuck!"
"Aren't you the one always saying patience is a virtue, Bingbing?" Nezha says breathlessly, and rolls his body meaningfully.
Ao Bing is going to kill him if Nezha doesn't let him come.
With another laugh, Nezha finally starts moving, but it feels like his pace is glacial, and he won't stop touching Ao Bing's scales, his claws, marveling at the feel of them. Nezha dips his head for a kiss, and finds the sharp teeth that Ao Bing's hidden behind his lips, and this time it's Ao Bing licking away the blood, hungry for more of Nezha's taste, for more of his body.
"Please, Baobei," Ao Bing begs.
The flush in Nezha's cheeks starts to spread down the rest of his body as he rides Ao Bing, ignoring his pleas and the way Ao Bing keeps trying to steal a little more heat, a little more pleasure, fighting the red armillary sash in an effort to hold Nezha properly. "Please, Baobei, please, I need you," Ao Bing begs again.
Nezha sinks down on Ao Bing's cock a fraction at a time, moaning, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple, and Ao Bing's last thread of restraint snaps.
Ao Bing's tail whips around Nezha's waist and yanks him down to the bed. Nezha yells in surprise, dick bouncing against his stomach a couple of times as Ao Bing settles on top of him, sharp teeth gleaming. His wrists are still bound, and he rests them above Nezha's head, using his tail to angle Nezha's hips just right. "Baobei, I'm going to fuck you now," Ao Bing breathes in Nezha's ear.
"Bingbing—" Nezha begins, but he's got no other choice except to hold on as Ao Bing slides inside him.
Neither of them has any patience left, no calm, nothing but raw desire. Ao Bing feels like he's been strung out for years, and as Nezha grips Ao Bing's hips with his thighs, all Ao Bing wants is more of his fire. They kiss, open-mouthed and uncoordinated, and Nezha suddenly tenses, eyes bright as he laughs against Ao Bing's mouth, filling Ao Bing with glorious light.
He comes in white stripes between their stomachs, and Ao Bing only manages a dozen more thrusts before pleasure obliterates everything else and he grunts, pressing his face to Nezha's throat.
Nezha is all around him, and Ao Bing can hardly breathe.
The pleasure ebbs slowly. Ao Bing can't remember the last time he came so hard, or so long. Nezha nuzzles his cheek, pressing several kisses to Ao Bing's horns, and the red armillary sash slowly eases away from Ao Bing's wrists so that they can tangle together properly.
It's not until Nezha huffs a laugh against his cheek that Ao Bing realizes he's still in the half-dragon form, and his tail is insistently wound around Nezha as though he might escape otherwise. Nezha runs his fingers along some of the scales on Ao Bing's back and down to his tail, petting it.
"See?" Nezha says smugly. "Not so bad."
Ao Bing laughs, helpless and sweet, for a long time, as Nezha plays with his tail. He finds the fine trail of fur along the top of the vertebrae particularly fascinating, running his fingers through the softness over and over. It's...soothing. More so than Ao Bing ever thought it could be.
"Ao Bing is Ao Bing," Nezha murmurs into that fresh peace. "And the only creatures who should think him being a dragon is monstrous are the people who wrong the innocent." He grins at Ao Bing. "Do you plan to wrong any innocents, Bingbing?"
"Of course not," Ao Bing mutters, flushing.
Nezha gasps dramatically. "Aren't I an innocent? Haven't you just wronged me? Throwing me onto my back and having your way with me..."
"Stop talking," Ao Bing moans, covering his face, and Nezha laughs at him. Ao Bing mostly feels fond, instead of annoyed.
Then, as the realization of just how sticky they are sets in, Ao Bing suggests tentatively, "Do you want to go back to the hot springs? They should still be open."
Nezha casts him an appraising look. "Will you keep the tail?"
Ao Bing turns bright red. "I'm sure something can be arranged...ah! No! Not like this!" he yelps, as Nezha lifts him up, cackles, and runs for the window.