It was past midnight when the clouds thinned, and moonlight spilled over the courtyard again. The candle Xiao had forgotten to blow out fluttered one last time before melting down to its wick—its long neck bent, exhausted, like the two figures seated in quiet breath on the edge of the bed.
Yujin's shirt had slipped halfway down his shoulder, revealing the line of a long scar curling near his spine—one he never spoke of.
Xiao noticed it while brushing Yujin's damp hair behind his ear, fingertips trembling for a reason he didn't understand.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, not just about the scar.
Yujin shook his head without looking at him. "Not when you touch it."
His voice was low, a little broken, like he was confessing a secret the world had punished him for. And Xiao… Xiao was already too far gone. The soft look in his eyes—Lan blood or not—wasn't made for the world's rules anymore. It was only made for Yujin.
They didn't kiss at first. Xiao simply leaned his forehead against Yujin's back, breathing in the warmth like it was air he hadn't earned. Yujin turned slowly, hands unsure for once, then took Xiao's face in both palms like cradling something too sacred.
"You still want to stay?" he whispered, lips brushing Xiao's.
"I don't know how to leave."
And maybe that's when they both gave up trying.
Their mouths met—not like a claim, but like returning somewhere after lifetimes of wandering. There was no rush, but it burned anyway. Xiao was the one trembling now, hands skimming up under Yujin's loose robe, unsure where to rest. But Yujin guided them—over his ribs, across his chest, down—
"Here," Yujin said, voice hoarse, his breath hitching. "You can… have this. If you want."
"Yujin…"
"I want to be touched by you. Not because I'm broken. Because I'm real… and I know you are too."
The silence afterward felt louder than thunder.
Xiao slowly moved forward, their bodies pressing flush, skin to skin. Each movement was almost shy—soft pants, the gasp of fabric slipping away, fingers curling into sheets, a held moan that never quite escaped. Xiao didn't know where to kiss first—Yujin's throat, his chest, the dip of his collarbone—so he kissed everywhere, like a prayer.
Yujin only spoke once more, barely audible:
"Don't stop."
Xiao didn't.
Not until Yujin's breath came in shaking bursts and his nails dragged down Xiao's back like he was holding on to life. Not until both of them reached that place where love and ache blurred.
Later, tangled in silence, Yujin's voice cracked open the dark.
"…Do you regret it?"
Xiao, lips pressed to the top of Yujin's head, whispered—
"No. Even if we die tomorrow… this was the only thing I'd beg to keep."