The Red Peony
Summary: In the search for a new Wu, Chase Young finds himself recalling memories of a mysterious youth that he doesn't remember knowing. The red peonies fill him with nostalgia. CHACK.
Rated: K+
Warnings: Homosexuality, possible OOC-ness
Author's Note at the end.
~.~.~.~.~.
Appearing in a swirl of dark magic, Chase Young opened his golden, reptilian-like eyes to take in his surroundings.
After sensing a new Shen Gong Wu activate, he had immediately teleported from his citadel to what seemed to be an overgrown garden. Just peeking out of the mass of weeds and other growth were the battered and very old remains of buildings, barely escaping their lush, green burial to touch the warm sunlight like it had so many centuries ago. Vines wound their way intimately around the ancient Chinese architecture, welcoming the man-made structure back to nature. Red flowers—peonies, he quickly deduced—blossomed along the ground in groups, their stalks brushing gently against the warlord's ankles as he followed his magic to the location of the Shen Gong Wu.
The place had a fairytale-like feel—undisturbed and peaceful, not meant to be seen by mortal eyes—yet there was an air of familiarity about it. Perhaps Chase had been here once upon a time, when he had once been human? He felt as if he would have remembered if that were indeed the case, but he chalked it up to simply being the passage of time that prevented him from recognizing this place. It was, after all, entirely plausible that as an immortal, all the places he'd been to would eventually blend together and become blurred in his memory if he did not visit them frequently.
Yes, he thought to himself, that was surely the case.
The Shen Gong Wu he was looking for was the Desiderium Blossom. Theoretically, it caused one to long for something lost so ardently that they would be unable to think of anything else and would therefore be useless in battle. Chase, however, had never seen the Wu used in combat or had even laid eyes on it, but knew that it had taken the form of a peony. Among the masses of peonies that had made their residence in the ancient site, he assumed that it would have been difficult to find if he did not have his magic to guide him. For a brief moment he pitied the Xiaolin monks, who had yet to grace the area with their boisterous presence. Dojo, he knew, had come down with some sort of dragon cold recently and would be unable to aid them in their search of the Desiderium Blossom. Without his magic senses, the monks were practically lost.
Well, it wasn't as if they would make it to the ruins in time, anyway. Chase would surely find the Wu and be back at his citadel before they arrived.
At this, he suddenly pondered Jack Spicer's whereabouts. The techie goth also had yet to make his appearance, but that was nothing new. He would often arrive to the Wu locations after everyone else, and had as of late begun skipping Showdowns, either leaving early or refraining from coming at all. This pleased Chase; perhaps the bumbling child had finally realized his ineptitude at fighting? Make no mistake, Spicer was truly a genius—his common sense, however, left much to be desired. Chase had been entertaining the idea of taking up his fan's offers (more like pleadings) of apprenticeship if Spicer wisened up and used his impressive IQ for more useful and productive things.
Of course, Spicer's lack of appearances could just mean that he was caught up in another frivolous project or another, and would resume being his usual annoying, persistent self in time.
Sighing in frustration to himself, the dark warlord scanned the landscape as he walked, his sharp eyes landing on each peony as his magic reached out to analyze its magical content. Curiously, Chase noticed the all the peonies were the same color—a bright, scarlet red. There was no variation; they were all the exact came shade. How odd, he thought, since peonies' range of color partially depended on time. The blossoms in the ruins could not all be the same age, could they?
Before he could continue his thoughts, something odd happened.
"Timeless," his friend, Guan, described to him, gesturing exaggeratedly with his large, calloused hands as he spoke. Chase felt himself raise an eyebrow in questioning, turning his head to the monk as they made their way into the heart of the city. They walked close together in the crowd as they spoke, not wishing for anyone to overhear them.
"Truly?" he heard his voice ask. It was lighter than he knew; it sounded as if he were still in his mortal youth. "Surely you cannot tell from simply looking? Where is the proof?"
"There is none," Guan replied, shaking his head. He nimbly dodged the prying hands of a grimy pickpocket that had found his way to his side. Chase prodded the urchin in the side with the butt of his spear as his friend continued to speak. "You see those peonies, there in the temple garden?"
Chase followed the monk's pointed finger to said garden—over the heads of many peasants gathered at the entrance of the temple—where a large quantity of bright red peonies blossomed. He nodded that he did, indeed, see them.
"They were newly planted to honor the arrival of the new god, who is currently being housed in the temple," he explained. "They are being specially bred to be that specific color; it is the color of freshly spilled blood and priceless rubies."
"How fitting for a 'god'," Chase said with a snort. "You stated that you have seen him, correct?"
"That I have," he replied. After a moment he added, "The peonies match the color of his eyes."
Chase turned to him, startled. "How is that possible?" he exclaimed with a disbelieving frown. "We have traveled to distant lands before, but not once have we seen one of that coloring."
"I do not know, Longwei. He truly is unlike anything I've ever seen," Guan said after a long pause. "Even if he is not a god as you have claimed, I find it hard to believe that he is even human."
"I will find out," Chase—Longwei—heard himself murmur, eying the temple with a mix of determination and curiosity. "I will find out exactly what he is."
Guan chuckled. "I have no doubt that you will, friend."
Chase blinked in the sunlight. What was that? A memory?
From his amiable feelings towards Guan and the usage of his birth name, it would certainly make sense. It was from the time when he was still human—a monk, fighting on the side of good. When he was still mortal.
So, it was possible that he had been to this place before. The peonies, as well as the feeling of recognition upon his arrival, could now be explained. It was a city, once teeming with human life hundreds of years ago. It made him sad for barely a moment for the once-proud city that lived on in the sudden recollection of memory; he had seen many civilizations rise and fall during the course of his long life, after all, and this one was no different. There was no reason to feel anything for this city in particular, was there?
He wondered what he and Guan had been doing in this city. They certainly hadn't seemed to be in a rush; perhaps they were simply exploring again, as they often did outside of their duties as Xiaolin monks. Dismissing that issue, Chase then wondered about their odd conversation. A god? Really? He was unsurprised that even his past self was skeptical, since those who claimed to be gods or prophets during that time were easily debunked as fakers trying to gain a bit of money from peasants who didn't know any better. At least, they were found out when people like him investigated the shady situation.
The red peonies that had grown in the temple garden had taken over the entirety of the city in time, it seemed. The dragon immortal walked up a series of crumbled steps, a trail of faint magic leading him up onto a large platform flanked by broken walls and a partially fallen-in ceiling overhead. He was vaguely surprised that there was even any ceiling left, really, but he gave credit to the still-standing pillars. Other than that, he knew that this had once been the temple that Guan told him that had hosted the supposed god at the time of his visit.
To the untrained eye, Chase seemed completely calm, but in actuality had startled at knocking over and breaking an antique pot that he had not been paying attention to because of his musings. He cursed himself at his unintentional clumsiness. This was why he hated thinking of the past; it made him careless in his movements. Not to mention pathetic.
As he glanced down at the pot—now in pieces—laying on the ground, he frowned at the familiarity of the sight.
The sound echoed throughout the dark room.
Longwei glanced down. It seemed he knocked over a pot of unlit incense as he maneuvered precariously through the main chamber of the temple. In the candlelight he vaguely saw the ashy composition of the incense spill over the polished floor like water, its dust rising into the air and filling his nostrils with its smoky, heavy scent. He reached down and picked up the pot by the rim, tilting it up and away from the ground until it was in its proper upright position. As he looked disdainfully at the mess left on the floor, he wondered if anyone heard the pot fall. The temple had so far been completely empty, and the Xiaolin monk had yet to encounter the 'god' that supposedly resided there.
A muffled shuffling sound came from a few meters ahead. Perhaps he spoke too soon?
Longwei disregarded the pot and began to move forward cautiously. The darkness in the room disgruntled him; surely the caretakers of the temple could spare a few more candles to light such an expansive space, especially at night? Still, he made due with what he had. Longwei scooped up a candle nearby, being careful to hold it steady as to not spill the hot wax from the crevice that had formed around the flame and wick; he had quite a few experiences of burning skin due to candle wax in his youth and those were quite enough.
"Hello?"
The monk froze. The voice drifting through the still air was soft and hesitant. It sounded like a male in his youth, just barely on the cusp of manhood. Longwei glanced around in the darkness to catch a glimpse of the speaker, when his sights fell upon the vague form of a person standing just behind a pillar. Was this god... hiding?
"You are not very brave for an all-powerful deity, are you?" he called out. He gave a satisfied smirk when the shadow jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around to face him. Although Longwei could not see the youth's face, he could feel his eyes on him as the form kept close to the pillar. As if it would provide him with any sort of protection.
He crept closer and held out the candle before him, allowing its flickering light to fall upon the face of the god.
Chase stared at the shards of pottery. Another memory.
Certain aspects of the ruins seemed to be acting as triggers, he gathered. Why he even had memories to trigger in the first place, Chase couldn't hazard a guess, but if he came across another he would welcome it. Although he felt rather disgruntled at the idea of revisiting his past, he had become curious about the memories that were just now coming back and began to compare it to reading a book, only to come to the end of another chapter. Additionally, Chase genuinely wondered what the cowardly god looked like. There was something about him that he could not help but be mystified by, despite his doubt that the boy was truly otherworldly. If the pattern continued, he was sure what he would happen across another trigger that would add another piece to the puzzle soon enough.
Of course, he was right.
At the same time, he could feel himself nearing the Desiderium Blossom. Picking his way through rubble and more overgrowth, Chase soon made his way to the back of the temple at the urging of his magic. Still standing were perforated screen walls that served as windows to the once-tame garden beyond. He studied the vines and moss that weaved along the elegant yet sturdy woodwork. A part of him wondered how it had not yet rotted away with the passage of time.
He ran a gloved hand reverently along the design.
He grasped the frame for support as he leaned over the mound of peonies to peer into the window. Sneaking into the back garden of the temple unnoticed in the dark of night was not as hard as Longwei had assumed. Of course, he had his Xiaolin training to back him up, but he still thought that if those in charge believed the amount of security currently stationed was enough to protect a god of all things, they were sadly mistaken.
Longwei sharpened his senses and eventually heard the soft sound of bare feet padding towards his location that was accompanied by the sweet scent of the one he had been visiting the past few nights. Eagerly he straightened, trying to catch a glimpse inside.
He didn't wait long. Soon, the torso of a young man clad in an ornate sleeping tunic stepped up to the window. The monk's brown eyes immediately sought out the boy's face, but the moonlight only illuminated up to the bottom half of his countenance, obscuring his nose and up from view. Vaguely disappointed, he watched a smile form on plump lips as he noticed pale, slim fingers curl around his from their resting place on the frame of the window. The fingers contrasted greatly to his own tanned, battle-worn ones.
"Sneaking in from the back again, Longwei?" the youth spoke, a teasing tilt to his voice. Just the sound of it made Longwei's spirits lift instantly. He gave a cheeky grin in response.
"Your body guards are not too keen on letting me see you so frequently. This is the only way I can see you nowadays," Longwei replied good-naturedly. His expression shifted to one of concern when his companion began to frown. "Are you alright?"
"I am," he sighed wearily. "I am glad you came. They forbid me from going anywhere. From apparently being a god, you would think they'd give me more freedoms than this."
"Have you not tried threatening them?"
"Long, you of all people know I have nothing to back up my claims with. You figured out that I am not what they say I am. It is my appearance that they are so enamored with, and they will soon find out that I am nothing more than a discolored oddity," the boy gave another tired sigh. "Is it times such as these that I wish that I was of normal coloration."
"Don't," Longwei chastised. He stared into the darkness where he knew the youth's eyes were and gave him a hard, yet heartfelt look. "Don't wish for anything else. You are beautiful. And," he kept going as the boy opened his mouth to interrupt, "not only that, you are brilliant, as I have also discovered these past few days. More so than anyone I have ever met, and I have known many. It matters little to me that you are not a god; you are truly amazing."
He heard a sharp intake of breath and watched, transfixed, as the boy bit his lower lip, causing a delicate pink color to bloom along the skin pinned underneath his teeth.
"You... Surely, you can't mean that," he spoke hesitantly.
"But I do."
There was a silence between the two of them, only filled with the chirpings of bugs and other creatures of the night that took up their residence in the garden. Longwei kept a level gaze, letting his feelings be known through what had just transpired. He was eventually rewarded with those pale fingers tightening almost desperately around his, as if he were afraid of Longwei suddenly disappearing into the air. A soft voice finally spoke.
"... Thank you."
It was just barely a whisper, but it was still there. As the words formed on his lips, Longwei felt a soft smile spread on his.
He jerked his hand away from the window.
What... was that?
Bringing his hand slowly back to his person, Chase stared with disbelieving eyes at the spot that he had just briefly touched.
Could that have been... affection?
Chase's lips curled into a sneer. No, it could not have been. He, Chase Young, Prince of Darkness, absolutely did not feel affection for a weak, abnormal child that once posed as a deity to fools!
But his past self—Longwei, fire dragon of the Xiaolin Temple—had.
He let out a growl of frustration. When he had first become an immortal, he recalled locking away certain memories of his human life to prevent him from falling prey to mortal weaknesses. It was a favor to himself, really; it would do him no good to long for what was lost. The series of flashbacks that he was currently experiencing, he could only assume them to be part of those memories he got rid of. However, the spell he had used was quite strong; they were not to come back with the contact of mere triggers. So what were they? Why were they plaguing him?
Suddenly whipping his head around, Chase took in the dimensions of the room and felt something wind up tightly in his chest when he realized that he was standing in the same spot at the window the boy in his memory had. Turning back to the window, he saw that he touched the same spot as he had the night he remembered, even though he had been on the outside. Hundreds of years ago, he really had been here, Chase realized. The pot! Was it the very same pot he knocked over in his first visit? And the area where he had first appeared at, was it the very same place he and Guan had walked in this city?
Chase suddenly, for the first time in a while, felt his age—very, very old.
It was the Wu, he immediately decided, running his fingers through his inky mane to calm himself as he backed away from the window. It was the Desiderium Blossom making him experience these visions of his past; that was its job, after all, to torment those with what was lost. He felt that the Wu was quite close now, so perhaps it emitted a defensive mechanism to ward away those who may find it? The Wu was a flower, so it was likely that something such as its fragrance would carry its power. The multitude of peonies in the area could surely disguise it with their own overlaying scents.
Yes, that was it. It was just the Shen Gong Wu making him go through these things. It was not his fault that he was experiencing the raw feeling of loss laced with warmer, more delicate feelings toward the youth that starred in his memories.
It was the Wu.
Chase hastily exited the ancient temple through a fallen-through part of the wall, ducking below the crumbling arch as to not hit his head. Blinking as his eyes adjusted once more to the sunlight, he found himself in the plot in which the original garden had resided. Although covered in vegetation, he could still make out where the stone walls that separated the little Eden from the rest of the city stood. It was shaped in a half circle around the back wall of the temple, and the plants that had climbed from the ground to the tops of the stone boundaries made the garden look like a miniature basin.
To his surprise, there was a distinctly male figure clad in black from head to toe crouching at the far end of the garden, sticking out like a sore thumb against the greenery. His back was to Chase and he was seemingly examining a clump of peonies, taking his time by touching each one individually. A mop of scarlet hair sat atop his head, and from that Chase immediately knew the person's identity.
Spicer had finally made his appearance.
Chase opened his mouth to call out to him, wanting to see if he would startle or not.
"I love you," Longwei said.
The boy—from his crouching position next to the plants—stilled, his hand frozen just above a peony that matched the startling color of his hair. Longwei felt worried at his silence, but steeled himself as the young man rose slowly, watching the folds of his heavy, ornate white robe fall free and return to its pristine form. Although he was not a god, he looked truly breathtaking and ethereal; it was really no surprise that people honestly believed that he was from the heavens. He was unlike anything Longwei had ever known, and he chose this moment to let the boy know.
"... What?" he asked, his soft, surprised voice flitting across the garden to where he stood. The sunlight was so bright that day; it reflected against the youth's lily white skin and blurred his face in Longwei's vision. Although he could not see his expression, he did not let this phase him.
"I love you," he repeated, louder and more confident.
The boy stared at him and questioned, "Why? Why would you choose me? You are handsome, talented, and such a good person, Longwei. You could have anyone."
"So I've chosen you."
"But what of your friend, Guan? Your monk vows-"
"He would understand, and my vows can be ignored," Longwei interrupted, his voice determined. He strode forward and took the young man's hands in his own. Before he could draw away, he fixed him with a level stare, trying to convey all he felt for him through his eyes. "I became a monk because no one interested me, and I thought there never would be. But then I met you, Yongnian. You are everything I could have ever wished for, the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I would be a right fool to leave you. You are everything."
The silence following his proclamation was agonizing, but he forced himself to be patient as the boy contemplated his response. He could feel Yongnian gazing at him in wonder, as if he could scarcely believe what he had just confessed.
The ethereal youth's arm slowly rose, the wide sleeve of his impeccable robe sliding slightly down his wrist at the movement. He brushed his soft fingers against Longwei's cheek and continued to trace his features gently—across his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose, along the curve of his lips—as if he were trying to memorize what he looked like. There was something so intimate about the gesture, yet there was an underlying feeling of sadness and foreboding behind it.
"Oh, sweet, wonderful Longwei," he said mournfully, sounding as if he were about to cry. "How cruel fate has been to you."
The Wu was toying with him. It had to be.
But the feelings bubbling and coiling rapidly within him—confusion, despair, longing, love—practically screamed otherwise. It was like a dam; the feelings that had been held back by some seemingly impenetrable force suddenly burst forth, escaping from their prison from the smallest crack and widening it until it was large enough to let all rush forth.
Although his outer appearance remained stoical, Chase was reeling. That memory told him that he had once been in love. That he was in love with the boy he had met so many years ago.
His name was Yongnian.
"Yongnian," he whispered for the first time in centuries. It almost came out as a hiss.
The very sound of the name on his lips filled him with such warmth and such ardent longing that it was overwhelming to the evil warlord, whom had not experienced such sentimental feelings since his turn to the Heylin, since he had known that spectre of a youth that had stolen the monk's noble heart. His first love.
At this point, he couldn't help but wonder: what had become of him?
"Oh, hey, Chase!" a familiar, boisterous voice interrupted his thoughts. Booted feet crunched through the foliage towards him. "Sorry, didn't notice you 'till now. You always manage to sneak up on me, not that I'm surprised, of course!"
Spicer. He'd forgotten that the goth was even present.
"Spicer," he greeted neutrally with the slight nod of his head, pushing his turbulent thoughts aside. He received a grin in response as the boy continued to make his way to him, apparently pleased at even being acknowledged by his idol. One arm was behind his back, seemingly hiding something.
Once he was close enough, Spicer whipped out his arm and presented him with a peony. It was different from all the others; Chase could feel the tendrils of magic curling and pulsing about its petals and down its stem. "Check it out!" the techie exclaimed excitedly. "I found the Wu! You can have it though, Chase, 'cuz I don't need it. Here!" He pressed the Wu into his hands, pulling away just as quickly and looking at him expectantly.
The warlord didn't say anything but instead stared down at the Desiderium Blossom nestled between his palms. The sight of it was oddly familiar, filling him with the nostalgic feeling that had been plaguing him ever since he first set foot in the ruins. There was something about the image of Spicer giving him the peony that distinctly reminded him of—
Chase's eyes widened.
"Remember me," Yongnian told him with a sad smile.
Longwei's eyes were wide in shock, desolation seeping into the pit of his stomach as the weight of what his love just explained to him began to sink in. Guan had not been exaggerating when he told him that the god people spoke of had a timeless air about him. While he agreed with the statement when he actually met the mystery god, Longwei certainly had not been expecting... this.
Even though Yongnian was not a god, he was not exactly human, either.
He was an immortal.
"Remember me. Find your own way to immortality, and come find me again. I must leave you now, but if you do this, we can be together," he continued, not missing the devastation building behind his eyes. "At the present, our time is limited, but if you were to become like me..." His voice became even softer than it usually was. "Only then, it will be eternity."
Longwei stared down at the peony clenched in his hands, the one Yongnian handed to him. He could not help but compare the scarlet color it to his eyes—Guan was once again right, they were the exact same shade—and glanced up desperately at the immortal he had fallen in love with, searching his expression and committing his face to memory. No, he would not forget him. He could never forget.
He studied him carefully, taking in the large, ruby eyes looking up at him sadly from under dark lashes. His hair—the same color as his eyes—glinted in the sunlight, turning some of the finer strands various shades of orange and even gold. Longwei reached out and reverently brushed some locks away from the boy's forehead, feeling the supple, white skin under his fingers, and trailed his hand down Yongnian's heart-shaped face to cup his cheek. Yongnian leaned into his touch.
"I will not blame you if you choose to stay mortal, Longwei. The ability to die is one I have missed more than once," he murmured, closing his eyes. He watched his long lashes brush against the soft skin of his cheek, and he found the image quite charming despite the situation. "Even so, eternity is a long time to stay with one person."
"I wouldn't choose to spend it with anyone else. I will become immortal to spend eternity with you, I promise," Longwei immediately replied, leaving no room for doubt. "I would do anything for you."
That time, Yongnian gave him a genuine smile, turning his face to kiss the palm of his hand. He was so beautiful in that moment; the love and adoration coming from him was blinding and nearly made him forget how to breathe. He could hardly believe that this creature could be—would be—completely his someday.
Longwei looked down, surprised, when he felt something wet against his hand. Yongnian was crying, tears rolling down his cheeks as he trembled. He drew the boy gently into his arms and held his slender form close. Longwei tried to memorize the feel of him against his body, the sweet sound of his voice, his scent as he buried his face into soft scarlet hair.
"I am glad," Yongnian whispered into his neck as he rested his head on Longwei's strong shoulder. "I have lived for such a long time, but no one has ever loved me like you have."
Longwei kissed the crown of his head, clutching the red peony in his hand tighter.
Even though they were saying goodbye, Longwei felt that this was just the beginning.
It couldn't be.
"Chase? You okay?" Spicer was giving him a concerned, slightly nervous look. "You've been kinda, uh, quiet... If you don't want the Wu, I get it—"
"Silence, Spicer," he commanded, attempting to sort out his thoughts through the chatter. The boy let out an 'eep!' and quickly shut up. Chase gave him an incredulous, measuring look that made him shuffle awkwardly. Was it possible? Could it truly be...?
"Uh, Chase?" his voice was almost a squeak. "I-I need to go soon, I've got something w-waiting for me in the lab—"
In a flash, Chase's hand shot out and grabbed Spicer's arm, tugging the boy forward as he let out an undignified shriek at the unexpected movement. Chase forced his flailing arms to his sides and, with an arm around his waist and a hand on the back of his head, held Spicer's lean, trenchcoat-clad body close. Spicer, meanwhile, had gone completely still, frozen in terror at his idol's odd behavior.
They stood like that for some time. Chase, reeling and shocked at the possibilities of his recollection of memories, eventually leaned forward and pressed his nose into Spicer's hair. It was much softer than it looked, he realized. Seeing how Spicer was still cooperating, he pressed closer and breathed in, allowing the boy's scent to fill his sharpened senses.
And what a scent it was.
In a single instant, memories came flooding back—his first conversation with the new 'god', his late night visits to Yongnian, getting to know him fully and slowly falling in love for the first time, Yongnian revealing his secret and saying goodbye, accepting Hannibal Bean's offer of immortality, searching for Yongnian worldwide over a period of hundreds of years to no avail, becoming so angered and frustrated that he sloppily sealed all this memories of Yongnian and further sealed any future attempts to find the only one he ever loved, his consequent conversion to the Heylin—
Chase released Spicer instantly, who fell to the ground with a startled yelp before scrambling to prop himself up on his hands to stare up at the warlord with wide eyes. Chase let out an inhuman growl as he doubled over, grasping at his head, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth as the onslaught of memories continued.
Waking up dazed in his new citadel among his felines wondering why he felt so heavy, going through day to day life with an empty feeling in his chest that would remain ignored, laying alone night after night never knowing what—who—he was missing, fighting generation after generation of Xiaolin monks in a monotonous cycle that seemed never-ending, becoming greater and greater and stronger and stronger but feeling something withering and mourning inside him...
… Meeting the most recent generation of monks, meeting Jack Spicer, seeing that adoring look in his eyes when he looked at him for the first time, hating him with little reason, catching Spicer sometimes gaze at him with such a tender expression that it couldn't have been his own, finding himself growing attached to Spicer's presence over time without knowing how or why, Jack Spicer giving him the Desiderium Blossom, so like the red peony Yongnian had given to him on the day he left—
And then it clicked.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Chase Young raised his head to look at one Jack Spicer, slightly trembling on the ground, still staring at him with wide eyes like a scared rabbit. He took in the young genius' familiar features in shocked realization—the pale, unblemished skin, his heart-shaped face, his plump lips, the big red eyes framed by a delicate dusting of dark eyelashes, his scarlet hair, the sweet scent that nothing, not even the fragrance of multitudes of peonies, could hide... There was only one person in the entirety of Chase's existence who shared these qualities with the albino teenager.
Despair, accompanied by elation, filled his heart.
How long had he known Spicer? How could he not have noticed sooner? The boy had been in his presence for years, and only now, only now...
Chase reached out and helped the goth back up onto his feet. Spicer seemed confused with the now careful handling of him, but didn't complain. Once he was standing upright, Chase once again enveloped him in his arms in a firm yet gentle grip. Spicer fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with the peculiar behavior of the usually violent, evil dragon warlord.
"Ch-Chase?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you okay?"
"My sweet mate," he murmured, nuzzling his nose in the hollow underneath the goth's ear, breathing in the heavenly scent that he planned to reacquaint himself with quite soon.
Spicer froze, but then began squirming in his grasp. "W-what?" he exclaimed, pushing against his chest in a feeble attempt to free himself. "Chase, what're you talking abou—"
Curling strong arms around his waist, Chase lifted the lanky teen off the ground. Said teen let out another squeaky 'eep!' at the action, wrapping his arms around the stronger man's neck for dear life as his legs flailed uselessly in the air. Spicer then glanced back down at Chase with a look that expressed confusion and uneasiness, but was unable to ask what was going on when he caught the man gazing up at him with such an open, adoring expression that it left him gaping.
"I am immortal," he said softly, looking up at Spicer, who was practically glowing in the sunlight from his view. He really was beautiful; the years had done nothing to his appearance.
"I know," Spicer replied in a small voice, his eyes still wide in shock.
"I fulfilled my promise."
"What—"
"I fulfilled my promise," he repeated, locking his golden eyes with the youth's red ones. "And I am still more than willing to spend this eternity with you. My Yongnian, forgive me for making you wait so long. I am here with you now, as I will be forever."
Chase had not spoken such sweet words since he was still a kind, light-sided human, but when he said them to Spicer...
It seemed only right.
Spicer looked terribly surprised, his eyes even wider than before if that were possible, and his mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. Chase gave him an encouraging smile and Spicer raised his eyebrows a bit higher, his mouth shaped in a little 'o'. When he didn't say anything for some time, Chase's smile faltered. What was wrong? Was it possible that after all this time he… couldn't remember?
Trying to force down the sinking feeling in his gut, Chase spoke. "… Yongnian?" he asked softly, rubbing the boy between his shoulder blades as he set him gently back on the ground. "Do you remember me?"
Youngnian's expression didn't change, making Chase's insides freeze. Dear gods, was he too late? Or perhaps his treatment of "Jack Spicer" made the boy not want him anymore after seeing how just cruel he could be?
For the first time since his turning, he found himself regretting the evil he became. If it cost him Youngnian, the very reason he became immortal…
Just before a wave of despair came over him, the corner of Spicer's lips suddenly twitched, curling into a smile before morphing into a wide grin. Noticing the positive change, Chase automatically straightened, staring at him with a hopeful, yearning look.
Their eyes met again; this time, his eyes were lively and bright. Spicer opened his mouth and let out a breathy chuckle before tossing his head back playfully to let out a laugh. Chase was stunned. It wasn't a laugh that the self-proclaimed boy genius usually emitted—that is, a strained cackle that clearly stated 'I'm trying to be evil but failing spectacularly'—but a light-hearted laugh that expressed true happiness and joy. It was truly a wondrous, pure sound; he was quite sure he'd never before heard such a thing.
Spicer leaned forward, curling his arms around his neck once again before tugging his goggles down to hang around his neck. He then tilted his head up to press his forehead against Chase's and then smiled at him with such unrestrained warmth and understanding and love that it was overwhelming. Chase could feel the once infallible walls he had built around his heart completely fall apart at that one look. All those years that he had spent alone in his bitterness… Had he truly subjected himself to missing this?
Gone was the hyper and klutzy Jack Spicer Chase had known. Instead of being tense and jumpy at his touch as he had been previously, Spicer was completely calm and relaxed in his arms with a tender familiarity that Chase was now sure of. Chase's arms tightened around the boy's slim waist as he eagerly breathed in his scent in their close proximity, realizing that their lips were so close all he had to do was lean forward to steal a kiss that was long overdue.
He did just that.
Spicer's eyes fluttered shut just as their lips met, molding together perfectly in such a way that made Chase realize that yes, this was what made life worth living. The weight of all the years of anger, resentment, and empty monotony melted away in that single moment, in an embrace with his chosen in the very place where they first met. Being surrounded by those scarlet peonies reminded him of those gentle days of the past, of the mysterious youth he encountered and those late nights in which they had formed a connection that flared back to life in that moment, reunited and together at last. Everything else was irrelevant; the one he wanted and undeniably still loved was here with him, and he would be damned if he ever let him walk away again.
When they finally parted, Spicer still did not say a word but smiled at him again in a way that seemed so relieved, so happy that it made him feel as if despair couldn't possibly exist. Speech was unnecessary. The joyous, thankful smile and the tears gathering in those ruby eyes spoke volumes even though Spicer himself refrained from speaking; that expression clearly told him, Finally, finally, I've waited so long for this. For you. For us.
That smile, that face… It really was Yongnian here with him now. And this time, it would be forever.
Spicer then rested his cheek against the cool armor plating of his chest as he sighed sweetly and curled his arms slightly tighter around his neck, getting a firm grip on him as if he were afraid Chase would disappear if he let him go again. Chase carded a gloved hand through scarlet locks to soothe his worries, softly murmuring words of devotion and love against the crown of his head for only him to hear.
Faintly remembering that he still had the Desiderium Blossom in his other hand, Chase brought it up and held it against the soft white skin of Spicer's face, once again noting the similarities in coloring. That shade of red… It was the color that filled his mortal life, and now his immortal one. How ironic it was that the Wu's ability was to bring back the past.
As he watched his mate gaze at the Blossom with an almost reverent expression, Chase Young made his decision.
Really, there was no contest.
Out of all the flowers, this one was easily the most priceless of them all. He would keep this red peony.
~.~.~.~.~.
A/N: This fanfic was based on my drawing submission for a contest on DevaintArt, which you can look at here. It has a bit of a summary to go along with it, in case if what happened in this story wasn't clear. Just remove the spaces: http:/ rikojasmine. deviantart. com/ gallery/ #/ d3i2n4f
Apologies of Chase seemed OOC. I've never written from his point of view before, and I struggled with the emotional parts. Hopefully he's convincing enough.
Anyway, in case if you were curious, Longwei means dragon greatness and Yongnian means eternal years. At least, according to the internet.
All in all, I hope you liked this!