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Li Lun has used his ability to possess people very sparingly all his life. For one it’s draining. His cultivation halves every time he does it, and two: the only one even strong enough to make it useful and worthy against is Zhu Yan and he has the Truth Eyes.
He complains to him about it, more in jest, than with any serious ire, but he can see he's hit a nerve when Zhu Yan's eyes go soft and possibly a little sad on him. He doesn't like it, that's not why he said it.
“Then I’ll give you the Truth Eyes.” Zhu Yan shrugs, the heavy brocade of his intricately embroidered robe glimmering with the movement. Li Lun doesn't like this either, this new look. Gone are the soft, light, playful fabrics. Gone is the haphazard braid of silver-white locks, decorated with sticks made from his branches. Instead Zhu Yan's wearing heavy, draping fabrics now, intricate, but severe in a way his previous clothes never were. His hair now dark and heavy, only half bound and held up with several bones, but somehow more restrained and tamed than his braid ever was. Li Lun hates it.
He knows it's just an illusion, a mirage. The image of Zhao Yuanzhou put over the reality of Zhu Yan and still, a ball of hate and anxiety sits hot and uncomfortable in his stomach.
“Why would you? Aren't you afraid you’ll be fooled by me?” Li Lun scoffs, his gaze slipping away as a long familiar warmth starts to surround that cold, heavy ball in his chest. He more feels the smile, than sees it, the sharing of more than thirty thousand years making it easy.
“I would still recognise you, if not with my eyes, then with my heart.” Zhu Yan states confidently and Li Lun's slow wooden heart quickens with deep love and fear.
“What if one day your heart can't see through me anymore?” The question slips out before he can stop it, that horrible ball growing spikes and clawing against his ribs.
Warm, plush lips press against his forehead, right over one of his demon marks, sending a pulse of known heat and beloved qi right through his meridians, melting the cold ball in his chest down to a more comfortable size.
“How could you change so much? You are such a part of me and my heart.” Now Li Lun looks up from his own disguised clothes, unfamiliar long hair shifting against his back, that usually is haphazardly put up in a bun with golden beads and small chains.
“This plan of yours is risky and could take years to bare results. Who says it won't change you and your heart?” Li Lun feels vulnerable in his powerful shell, anxiety still scratching the soft parts of his lungs.
“Oh it is my plan now? And not ours?” Zhu Yan asks amused and understanding and saddened. “Demons keep disappearing in the human world, more than usual, and no-one seems to care or be bothered about it.” He continues and Li Lun can't help but throw in:
“Not even your precious Baize Goddess.” Which earns him a look of admonishment which he takes with all the grace he can offer. He rolls his eyes. Zhu Yan grimaces.
“She’s human. Even if she is a goddess as well, she was human first.” He takes a shuddering breath and Li Lun knows it pains him, because the Baize Goddess is a cherished friend, but how could she understand them, when they are so alien, so different from her? He pulls his friend into his arms and hates their disguises even more.
If Zhu Yan was still in his soft, malleable clothes, he would fold himself into his lap, head tucked under Li Lun’s chin, ear pressed against his heart and arms slung around him holding tight. His clingy monkey. But the stiff and thick fabric doesn’t lend itself for comfort and clinging, so all he can do is wrap his arms around his waist and press his head against Zhu Yan’s stomach while he sits and his friend stands. Beloved fingers comb through his hair, comforting and seeking comfort.
“You are as anxious as me about this, don’t pretend.” Li Lun mumbles into the hated fabrics and Zhu Yan chuckles forlorn.
“You know me too well.” He sighs. “Let me give you the Truth Eyes, Li Lun. It would give me peace to know they are with you when I can’t be.”
Li Lun’s arms tighten involuntarily. He doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow, when they will be in their usual forms, visiting the human world and pretending to explore. When they will play to be younger than they are, more vulnerable, baiting whoever it is that has been stealing demons in Tiandu. Plans do not survive the first contact with the enemy. So much could go wrong. Even if they are the most powerful demons right now, the deception of men is known to be stronger.
Zhu Yan shifts and tilts his head up, Li Lun following the push of his warm fingers eagerly. The flower forms in his mouth before he can truly think about it, more instinct than anything else, a habit of thousands of years. And still Zhu Yan makes a sound of surprised delight, when his tongue discovers it and its sweetness in his mouth as they kiss, sending a thrill of deep satisfaction through Li Lun. He opens his mouth wider, eagerly pushing up into his friend, chasing his salty warmth and the heat of his qi. Zhu Yan cannot help but share his energy with him, the dark heat flooding his meridians and sparking another kind of heat in his veins.
His hands have long found their way into half bound hair, grasping and holding him, the desire to devour him whole so powerful in his lungs that he gasps with it. An impossibility of course. Zhu Yan is not a spirit he can add to his soul, but it changes nothing about the possessiveness that’s carved into his wooden heart.
When they break apart, Li Lun is filled with the heat of Zhu Yan’s qi and leans into the hands holding his face, the heavy ball in his chest reduced to a marble, sitting almost comfortably beneath his ribs.
“Okay.” he says. “I accept your Truth Eyes, but only if you take one of my roots.”
He watches as Zhu Yan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head at this silly, old demon. He’s not the only one who can make grand gestures.
“I would be honored.” he whispers, his voice shaky and Li Lun shakes his head at his beloved friends dumb face. He pulls him into another kiss.
Who knows what will happen tomorrow. For now, Zhu Yan is right in front of him, solid and warm and sweet, brimming with his innate power. He would be dumb not to take full advantage. His face flushes with the thought of it. Having a part of Zhu Yan for his very own now. Filling his own eyes with his unique power. He wishes he could do the same for him, but the root of him would have to be enough. None of his powers are able to be shared or given, too unique to his physicality. He is, at his core, a tree after all and not a warm-blooded animal. His powers aren’t compatible with Zhu Yan’s warm, animal body, even if it is a vessel of all malicious energy. The only thing he could give was his demonic qi and that would defeat the purpose of their plans.
Their kiss breaks and Zhu Yan steps back, fingers already forming the familiar gestures as he steps behind him, power gathering, flowing visibly golden from his eyes to his hands.
“I give you my Truth Eyes.” he invokes a spell, more words than his usual one, making it more powerful, more concrete, permanent. The hands fall over Li Lun’s eyes and golden power sinks from them into his skin, his retina, his meridians, his core, his very being.
‘Oh.’ he thinks, heart fluttering, as tears gather in his eyes. This is going to be a weakness, isn’t it? The feeling of using this power will always be Zhu Yan inside of him, will always make this powerful possessiveness flare and this comforting warmth spread through all of his branches.
He opens his eyes, (when did he close them?) and looks behind him at Zhu Yan. He looks right through his disguise now, at his true form, seeing the love and longing and pure power on his face, in every fiber of his being. It’s addicting. Seeing it so clearly. Everything he had known in his heart is now plain visible with the Eyes of Truth. He didn’t think it was possible for Zhu Yan to become even more beautiful.
“You love me.” falls from Li Lun’s mouth, unbiddenly surprised. Zhu Yan softens impossibly and shifts, pulls and pushes until he settles in Li Luns lap, clingy monkey that he is, cheek pressed to cheek.
“Of course I do, silly bush.” is murmured into his skin, against the tracks of his tears, the moisture of it lingering. He bristles at the playful insult.
“Dumb monkey.” he retorts and grins into his love’s neck as he squawks with indignation.
“Ape!”
Who knows what tomorrow will bring. But today, he still has this.
And now, he will have a part of this forever.
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The End