1. As You Command

The cold bites through Meng Zhi’s armor, his robes, his underclothes. If there is mercy here, it is that it has been an unusually dry winter and the snows have been light. On good days, the sun burns off the snow that piled up overnight and leaves dry bare earth behind.

On bad days, the icy mud is stirred with slicks of blood.

...and rocks. The whole blasted place is littered with annoying, inconvenient rocks. The northern border is said by some to be beautifully majestic with its desolate landscapes but Meng Zhi thinks it is ugly and he wants to go home.

He pauses for a moment outside of Mei Changsu’s tent — Marshal Mei’s headquarters, as most call it — and arranges himself as he is announced by a servant. The guards glance his way but otherwise know to keep to their posts. Meng Zhi has no concerns there, as he handpicked the men who would be given the honor of protecting Marshal Mei on his behalf.

When he’s let in, it is to a blazingly hot space, moreso in contrast to the bitter winds howling outside. There is one more brazier there than when he left, he notes.

“Commander General,” Mei Changsu says with a nod.

“Marshal Mei, I have my report.” Meng Zhi says, bowing. Like most he gives, it is a verbal report. Mei Changsu hates his handwriting and insists on writing the reports himself as Meng Zhi dictates. It is a silly thing, since Meng Zhi’s handwriting is fine enough for the emperor himself, and usually Mei Changsu is not quite so controlling over small details, but Meng Zhi humors him.

As Mei Changsu bends over his desk, though, it gives Meng Zhi a chance to inspect him carefully. He cannot tell, anymore, if the bloom on his cheeks is from the warmth of the tent or from the fever of the bingxu grass medicine — which even now Mei Changsu thinks Meng Zhi is ignorant of.

Mei Changsu can be so dense when it comes to those closest to him, Meng Zhi thinks as he rattles off the latest reconnaissance on the Da Yu armies while looking for any tell tale signs of illness.

Later, they are reviewing troops at twilight. Usually it is an early morning activity, but done in this case for a squadron heading out for a late night surprise attack on a forward force of the Da Yu. The squirmishes appear odd strategic choices to Meng Zhi, especially when they are so close to victory, but unlike some of the other generals he trusts Mei Changsu implicitly.

At least, when it comes to military strategy.

“You’re pale but feverish,” Meng Zhi says when they return to Marshal Mei’s headquarters. Most know that they are close friends and leave them be when they retire together, which is just as well. It gives Meng Zhi an opportunity to confront Mei Changsu.

“I am tired,” is the only answer he gets.

Meng Zhi quietly shoos Fei Liu and the manservant out of the tent as Mei Changsu tears off his cape and helmet, dropping them to the side like trash.

Meng Zhi steps up behind him and puts his hands on his shoulders, heavy and weighted, stilling him. “More tired than usual.”

“We’re at war, General Meng,” Mei Changsu snaps, but does not pull himself out of Meng Zhi’s hold.

“We’ve been here for ten weeks. We’re all tired.” He sighs, understanding that the time for lies is past. “The effects of the bingxu pills are fading.”

Mei Changsu tenses up under his hands, and they both are still for a long moment.

“Meng Zhi—”

“Lin Chen told me. I know, Xiao Su. I know.”

Mei Changsu’s shoulders drop and his whole bearing goes soft as if stepping out from under a heavy weight. He takes a deep breath, and Meng Zhi can hear the soft sounds of his lungs rattling. “I’m sorry,” Mei Changsu says, soft and wounded like he never was, even at his weakest.

This is not who they are; this vulnerability, this softness, is new. But Meng Zhi cannot turn away from it as he probably should. He steps in and wraps his arms around Mei Changsu, holding him tight. They are both still in their simple leather armor and heavy, woolen clothes, but Meng Zhi is one of the strongest men in the world, he can hold them together.

After another difficult breath, Mei Changsu tries again. “You have known for a while, I suppose.”

“Yes.”

“Damn Lin Chen, I am going to throw him off the fucking cliffs myself,” Mei Changsu says with a low and toothless growl. He will do nothing more than yell at Lin Chen, and they both know it.

“Mmm, he will probably let you.” He does not mention the many furtive trips up the cliffs Lin Chen has already undergone, hoping against hope to find some kind of cure. Instead he basks in holding Mei Changsu like this. He knows Mei Changsu would prefer someone else here, but there is little that can be done about that. As it is, Meng Zhi is surprised that Mei Changsu is even allowing him to breach his well-entrenched boundaries this far.

Meng Zhi could easily press his suit by kissing his ear or the back of his neck, but he holds himself in check as tightly as he holds Mei Changsu, afraid that the barest movement will break the spell they are in.

Mei Changsu is barely holding himself up, resting and relying on Meng Zhi. After a few breaths, though, he raises his hands and places them over Meng Zhi’s, clutching at them with a noticeably reduced strength. Meng Zhi is helpless at this show of trust and gently places his lips against his neck, less of a kiss than simple skin to skin contact. Meng Zhi still wears his helmet, even, so there is not much else he can do.

“I sometimes believe that I can ignore the inevitable to the point of eliminating it.” He leans back even further, tipping his head to rest against Meng Zhi’s shoulder and exposing the long curve of his neck, delicate and pale under Meng Zhi’s lips. “Lin Chen takes care to remind me of what awaits, when I am reckless.”

“Mmmn. Is this reckless?” Meng Zhi asks, unsure of the answer. It probably is, he thinks.

Mei Changsu lowers their entangled hands, which seems answer enough. Meng Zhi prepares to step back into his place as subordinate, but Mei Changsu spins quickly and grabs his chest plate to hold him in place.

“I have always been reckless.” He leans in and kisses him.

Meng Zhi reacts immediately and shamelessly, wrapping his arms around him again and pulling him in close. True to his claim, Mei Changsu is reckless with his kiss, biting Meng Zhi’s lip and forcing his way into his mouth, tongue wet and hot.

“Xiao Su,” Meng Zhi finally gasps when he breaks for air, closing his eyes against the intensity of his feelings.

Mei Changsu wraps his arms over Meng Zhi’s shoulders and is silent as they both breathe quietly for a moment. He lifts his head to rest their cheeks together. “My end is inevitable. I just want to feel alive while I can.” He kisses the soft skin under Meng Zhi’s eye.

“Please let me do this for you, then, if that is your wish,” Meng Zhi says before he can continue, turning his head to capture his lips again briefly.

Mei Changsu nods, breaking their kiss, and answers breathlessly. “Yes.”

Meng Zhi smiles softly against his lips. “As you command.”

Mei Changsu surges into his embrace, which he can barely feel through the layers of leather and clothing. Meng Zhi is sweating already, both from arousal and the fact the tent is heated, but he doesn’t care. He lifts one hand to the back of Mei Changsu’s head to hold him in place and pours all of his love and desire into the kiss, tongues sliding against each other. Mei Changsu tastes of bitter medicine and fragrant tea, a flavor that Meng Zhi will remember to his own dying day.

They separate slowly then fully to dismantle their armor and peel off outer layers, which they do for themselves. When they are down to under tunics and trousers, Meng Zhi takes Mei Changsu’s hand and leads him to the bed, standing next to it as he unties the strings of Mei Changsu’s clothes. “Have you laid with a man before?” He asks.

“Simple and straightforward as always, aren’t you?” Mei Changsu says, still a little breathless but smiling.

“I make no pretense otherwise.” He pulls the tunic over Mei Changsu’s head. He is still thin, although there has been some muscle return due to the effects of the bingxu pill. It is odd to see that he is so slight, given how overpowering his mere presence usually is.

“This is hardly my first time, gege.” He says the endearment slyly, with a teasing smile.

Meng Zhi feels the air punched out of his chest as if he was hit with a board. He grabs Mei Changsu around the waist and just short of throws him onto the bed, clambering up over him. Mei Changsu laughs at the manhandling and spreads his legs to let Meng Zhi fall down between them, wanton in his desire which is displayed openly on his face. Meng Zhi feels his heat rise along with his cock.

“You will let me know if I am too rough,” Meng Zhi orders.

“I am still strong, for now,” Mei Changsu replies, wrapping his legs around Meng Zhi’s hips and yanking him down all the way. “Take this off,” he demands, tugging at Meng Zhi’s own tunic.

Laughing, he removes his tunic and quickly strips both of them out of their trousers and inner shorts. Then, Mei Changsu is naked before him, spread out like the most expensive meal Meng Zhi could never afford. Overcome, he falls forward onto his elbows and sucks a brutal kiss to Mei Changsu’s chest, over his heart, bruising the skin there so deeply that Xiao Su will carry the mark for days, if not weeks. He vows to keep it there until Xiao Su dies, if he is allowed. He will travel into the next world with Meng Zhi’s mark upon him.

“Yes, Ah-Zhi, you are allowed. I will carry it...I will,” Mei Changsu cries out softly. His hands scrabble at Meng Zhi’s head and it takes him a moment to realize that Mei Changsu is undoing his hair, which soon falls free over them both. He stops his ministrations long enough to reach up and do the same for Mei Changsu, who sighs blissfully when the tension of his top knot is undone. “Thank you.”

Meng Zhi doesn’t smile. His heart is too fragile for that, too open to the pain of loss he knows is ahead of him. Instead he settles down over him completely, resting his hips in the cradle of Mei Changsu’s, their cocks pressed together. He doesn’t move though, simply lays there, staring down at his lover.

“Ah-Zhi, please,” Mei Changsu says, closing his eyes. “Stop staring.”

“Never. You are too beautiful, to precious. Let this pain replace all others.”

Mai Changsu gulps but opens his eyes, which are full of agonized tears. “Please,” he says the word like a prayer, the arrogant and willful strategist bent low under his own passions.

“Hm. Yes.” Meng Zhi smiles at the open, vulnerable expression staring back at him and finally relents, leaning down to kiss Xiao Su deeply. It is a long, languid stretch of time as they kiss, hands roaming and hips rocking softly together. The friction is slight but not enough, and eventually Meng Zhi sits back on his heels, his hands massaging Xiao Su’s thighs. He takes Xiao Su’s cock in his hand lightly, wrapping his fingers around it while Xiao Su shifts restlessly under him, heels digging into the bedding. “We can end like this.” He gives it a mild, slow stroke.

A hand clamps down on his wrist. “No.” Xiao Su pierces him with a hard look of intense desire. “I want to feel you pressed into me. All the way. I want...I want to feel.” He says it like a command.

A command they both know that Meng Zhi will obey.

He gets up and goes to the small cabinet of personal belongings off to the side. Mei Changsu tells him where to look, and he quickly returns to their bed with the small pot of greasy balm in his hand. Settling himself between Xiao Su’s legs again, he smears the fingers of one hand with the balm and leans forward on his other hand, bracing himself over Xiao Su. He runs a finger over his balls and down the crease of legs to Xiao Su’s hole, which contracts at the first soft touch. It is clear that Mei Changsu has not been harboring lovers on the side, at least none allowed this far.

Meng Zhi takes his time with this, despite Xiao Su cussing at him and complaining about the delay. Finally he rolls his eyes. “Don’t be such a selfish lover, Xiao Su. I enjoy this part.”

“Why?” Xiao Su snaps incredulously.

Meng Zhi chuckles. “Watching my lover’s ardent desire slowly increase is delightful. To see you crying out in pleasure and anticipation is beautiful. You are beautiful, as I have said. Are you merely fishing for compliments, or am I allowed to wallow in this sea of pleasure?”

“If I had known you have the soul of a poet I would have gotten you drunk first.”

“Oh, that would not work well for you. I am even more poetic when drunk, although my poetry is far worse.”

“I shudder to think,” Mei Changsu says, snarling the words a little and kicking his ass with his heel.

“I am not a horse, Xiao Su,” Meng Zhi laughs, enjoying the sour look he gets in return, then forcefully slams the three fingers he has working Xiao Su open into him, curling them as he does. Xiao Su arches up like a strung bow, eyes wide and mouth open. Meng Zhi thrusts a few times and Xiao Su bites his fist to keep from crying out.

Then it is a simple matter of mechanics, which Meng Zhi (for better or for worse, he doesn’t know) is well practiced at. Pulling Xiao Su down the bed a little so his thighs rest on his own, Meng Zhi grabs his painfully neglected cock and rubs it a few times to oil it up before shifting forward and pressing in. Xiao Su chokes once then visibly stills himself to focus on breathing through it. He, too, seems at least a little practiced at this part and bears down with a grimace until Meng Zhi breaches him fully and slides all the way into him.

“You are...you are well endowed, General Meng,” Xiao Su says, his voice creaking like old hinges.

“And you are unpracticed at this, Marshal Mei,” Meng Zhi replies with a grin, twitching his hips just enough to thrust in a little.

Mei Changsu's breath hitches, but he rallies. “Mocking me, now?”

“Ha! No. It pleases me to know that I am not sharing you with anyone of late.” He pulls out halfway and slowly slides back in

Xiao Su huffs, his hands clutching Meng Zhi’s upper arms for purchase. “Are you the possessive type?”

“I already know I will have to share your heart, Xiao Su, but yes, it pleases me that I do not have to share this.”

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.” Xiao Su grumbles, but his blush goes even darker, and Meng Zhi enjoys the thought that his careless truths bring such shy happiness to his otherwise arrogant lover.

“Your command is my greatest wish.” He smirks as he falls forward again, bracing both hands on the mattress, before powerfully slamming his hips forward. He pulls his strength back a little, knowing Mei Changsu’s physical state is no match for his own, but not by much. The whole bed platform rocks and Xiao Su actually squeals before slapping a hand over his mouth. Meng Zhi is too busy fucking to tell him not to bother, since camp gossip has pinned them as lovers since before the war even started.

He can go for a long time, his stamina helped significantly by his martial arts practice, and he sets in to take Xiao Su apart. He varies his thrusts in power and rhythm until Xiao Su is a writhing, sweaty, whining mess under him. Then he falls down to his elbows and executes a lighting fast series of thrusts before pausing to whisper in his ear. “How much can you take, Lin Shu?”

“Dage! ” Mei Changsu cries out and crumbles under him, wiped clean, leaving the fresh-faced young man who, in the midst of his arrogance and pride is nonetheless so very pure, so very innocent, and so very unbroken.

Meng Zhi kisses him and begins again, moving slowly this time, making his movements long, deep, and slow until Lin Shu is trembling, his tongue darting in and out of his mouth quickly as if uncertain of what he wants. Only then does Meng Zhi take him in hand, stroking in time with his rolling hips, until Lin Shu gasps. “Dage! Oh, Meng-dage! Gege!” He calls out shamelessly and comes, his whole body stuttering and clenching up around Meng Zhi, head thrown back, hands clawing as his shoulders for purchase and likely drawing blood.

Meng Zhi lets himself go, which doesn’t take much more than a few strokes into Lin Shu’s heat. He comes with a guttural growl, biting down on Lin Shu’s neck as his hips pound a few more times before stopping. He presses in as far as he can, bending Lin Shu back even further, as he releases the last of himself into him.

They pause, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air, until Meng Zhi feels himself softening. He pulls out with a grimace, but gives Lin Shu a last, lingering kiss before stumbling off the bed to look for a cloth to clean them up with. He falls back into the bed, settling next to his lover to wipe him down.

Mei Changsu is staring at him, his eyes glazed with the afterglow but not without the sharpness of his intellect, and his fury, behind that. He opens his mouth to speak but Meng Zhi shakes his head.

“Don’t, Xiao Su. It was what it was, and we are who we are. Let it be.”

“You—”

“Hush.” Meng Zhi kisses him, and for a brief moment thinks that Mei Changsu’s anger will cloud over their affections, but then he relaxes into it and kisses back. When they break apart again, Meng Zhi clucks a little at him. “My love is for all of you, and all of your names. Here in this bed let there be no games between us, please?”

Mei Changsu looks genuinely shocked by his words, but after a long, quiet moment reaches a shaking hand out to trace Meng Zhi’s face with the tips of his fingers. He bites his lip thoughtfully. Meng Zhi raises an eyebrow in question, only a little apprehensive.

Lin Shu smiles, as bright as the sun at dawn. “As you command, gege.”