Ash and Honey [BL]

Fu Ran wasn't aware of how much time had passed since he left the entrance hall, nor how many hours had gone by while he stood frozen in his doorway. His body refused to move an inch.

He was so tired.

His room remained unchanged. His bed lay in the center, positioned in front of the only window in his house. The bedding was completely white, aside from the thick purple blanket he used on chillier spring nights. By his bedside sat a few scattered books, only half-read.

Flowers, placed haphazardly for decoration, filled the room with natural sweetness, along with branches collected from his wisteria tree outside. It was a humble home—one where he had spent his entire teenage and adult life.

On one side of the room was an open archway that led into his garden, and on the other was the path to his hot spring bath. …He really wanted a bath.

Normally, coming home meant the end of stress. It was a place where he could shut out the world and its problems. But today, no matter how exhausted his body claimed to be, he did not want to sleep.

Truthfully, he didn't even know which problem upset him the most. He didn't have the emotional capacity to process them all at once. He was heartbroken, mourning the loss of people he had known his entire life, and grieving for children gone too soon.

And the Tyrant Emperor? He was a permanent fixture in his life now, and one he was meant to respect.

I want to collect dust. Fu Ran let out a low, repetitive chuckle. Heavens leave me alone.

Finally, he willed a step, and then another. He sat at his desk, pulled out a brush and paper, and hoped that something would come to mind. But even after twenty minutes of solitude, he had barely managed more than a small scribble of a fish.

His face dropped onto his crossed arms. His body twitched as if he was sobbing, though he didn't cry much anymore. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread.

Knock, knock. A gentle rapping against the wooden sliding door lifted his head.

Fu Ran's eyebrows knitted together. The knocking was too soft to belong to Zhi Lao, but who else could it be? There was no one else that would visit him this late.

What have I done now? Fu Ran's grip nearly snapped his brush. Am I about to get lectured for talking back to the Peak Elder?

Standing, Fu Ran let his voice trail playfully, subtly, just enough that whoever stood on the other side would hear.

"My dear Shixiong," he began, letting his footsteps fall deliberately heavy as he approached the door. "What gracious reason do I owe for a second visit today?"

He grabbed the sliding door and pulled it open hastily, and his words snapped, "Can you not get me off your mind?"

Fu Ran froze.

Oh.

That wasn't Zhi Lao.

Before him stood a man, broad enough to take up the entire entryway, his presence suffocating. Fu Ran instinctively stepped back, his breath catching.

Tian Han smiled.

The Tyrant Emperor had come to visit? Did he have nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one else to torture?

Oh no.

He took Fu Ran's silence as an invitation and stepped inside without hesitation.

No.

No, no, no.

Did I invite you in?! Fu Ran's hands shot up as he shook his head. His mouth opened, but the words he wanted to say would come out.

"I wanted to talk to you privately," Tian Han said.

Of course you did.

Save it. You can talk to me from outside the door.

Fu Ran's retreating footsteps were clumsy. He nearly tripped in his rush toward his bed, where his precious white spiritual sword rested near his pillows. He was half-tempted to lunge for it.

"I wanted to—" Tian Han ruffled his own hair with one hand while shutting the door with the other. His words wavered slightly, before he paused and searched for the next sentence.

The wooden footboard of the bed stopped Fu Ran from retreating further, but watching the way that Tian Han grasped for words made him think. Since when was the Tyrant Emperor easy to fluster?

Wait.

If this were really the Tyrant Emperor, wouldn't he be trying to kill me? That's been a running theme in all my dreams.

And yet he had barely let himself inside. Reference points were many, as he dreamed of that palace nearly every night. However this scene didn't add up. From his behavior to his mere presence.

Fu Ran had seen the face of his nation's previous Emperor, as he was one for vanity and fame, but this new man 'Kuwei Jun' wasn't named Tian Han. It was completely possible for that name to be an alias, but what kind of emperor has the time to become a Peak Master for fun?

This was not the Tyrant Emperor. At least, not yet.

Fu Ran took a breath, steeling his nerves, and decided to break the silence first. "Are you not aware of the current hour?" His words were bold, and a beat of sweat dropped down the side of his cheek. "Whatever you need to say, get it over with and leave."

If it were anyone else at his doorstep he would never speak to them like that. Even Jie Baihu would have received more kindness, but Fu Ran had to put his foot down immediately.

Tian Han stiffened, the words wiped the smile off his face immediately. His eyes shifted to the side of the room, and a thumb pressed to his chin. "You hadn't heard all I wanted to say when I spoke with you earlier. I wanted to thank you—"

"Your thanks have been heard."

Tian Han startled, clearly confused. "But you still aren't listening—" 

"You may leave." 

Fu Ran turned on his heel and headed directly to his desk, but the sound of feet clambered after him. 

"Just a simple thanks, for saving my—" Tian Han was cut off yet again. 

"For Wan Yu? Of course, it is my job to look after disciples. May he find a worthy Shizun here at An Xian Yun Peak." Fu Ran crossed the room and pulled out the chair from his desk to use as a barrier against the flustered Would-Be-Tyrant. 

Tian Han's gaze moved between the chair and Fu Ran's face, his sharp brows furrowed together in concern. Ignoring it, Fu Ran sat in the seat and turned his back to the man. With a practiced ease of obstinance, he plucked up the brush from his table and the paper on which he doodled earlier.

Just pretend that you are busy; that is all.

When the brush tip touched the paper, his hand shuddered, purely reactionary. Tian Han stepped closer, and pressed against the back of his chair. Fu Ran paled. The Tyrant Emperor cast a large shadow on his real-world word desk.

Not even a second later, his wrist was captured. An encompassing grip stopped even the slightest twitch.

Tian Han leaned over, his chest touching Fu Ran's back, and his face was close enough to whisper. Warm breath brushed against the back of his neck with a single sentence. "Will you let me finish a single sentence?" Tian Han's grip tightened, and with a breathy plea, he asked, "Please?" 

Fu Ran could not breathe. Threat didn't lace those words like poison, but they did not come from a trustworthy source. Tian Han's thumb twitched with hesitation, and then gently caressed Fu Ran's index finger.

Fu Ran recoiled at the ticklish sensation, jostling a few of his study books and dropping the brush from his hands. This left a mark of Tian Han's invasion—a black streak across his paper and his desk.

A heat flushed against Fu Ran's cheeks, and his stomach twisted into a knot, yet his words were still sharp. "What is it?" Fu Ran hissed.

"I have a formal request." Tian Han's voice stayed a low whisper, and his fingers wrapped tighter around Fu Ran's. An audible swallow was followed by another breathy plea, "Please take on Wan Yu as a disciple." 

Fu Ran cut his eyes, only to meet waiting amber. Tian Han's face was relaxed and his handsome features had shifted into a shameful pink. "Please."

"Do you think begging will make me more willing?"

"I will beg if that is what it takes." 

There were certain circumstances to his plea that added weight to Tian Han's situation. There were so few disciples given to a dwindling number of Peak Masters. Prior to the entrance exam, Wan Yu had four times the likelihood of success. Fu Ran wouldn't deny his pity for the child, but realization quickly slapped him over the head. 

Circumstances? Of all people, why am I fretting over the future of this man? Regular "circumstances" don't apply to those that are destined to become a Tyrant Emperor!

Tian Han whispered again, "I will not leave until you agree." 

Fu Ran grimaced. I am meant to have no peace.

He stole a quick breath before he tore his hand away, stood up, and moved towards his bed. However the creak of his floorboards made him look again. Another grimace.

Tian Han had lowered himself to his hands and knees in a position of prayer. His forehead was placed directly onto the floor, centered between his thumbs. 

"...Are you being serious?" Fu Ran whispered, before sucking in a breath of annoyance. "Fine. Prostrate yourself all night, and see if it changes my mind." And with that, he blew out the candles and halfway undressed for bed.

It certainly wouldn't be long before the Tyrant Emperor realized he was serious, and gave up in distress.