From CEO to Concubine

One of us. 

Yan Zheyun's lashes quivered. Whether the emperor's choice of words had been intentional or not, he liked the sound of that. It made him feel like one half of a couple in a stable relationship, just working through hardship together, instead of a helpless concubine whose welfare was at the mercy of the man he had the job of serving in bed. 

"Yan Yun?" There was a note of amusement in the emperor's voice but instead of its usual strength, it sounded tinny and feeble to Yan Zheyun. 

He shot the emperor an exasperated look. The emperor had to choose such a stressful time to demonstrate that he was the proud owner of a rather effective set of flirting techniques? 

"Your Majesty needs to rest," Yan Zheyun murmured, tugging the covers up to the emperor's neck. The back of his hand brushed against the emperor's neck, which was damp with cold sweat and rough with goosebumps. The knot of Yan Zheyun's brow tightened. Worried that the emperor's drenched bedclothes would result in the dragon body catching a cold by the time morning rolled around, Yan Zheyun stood to check the cupboards for a fresh set of sleeping attire and maybe more clean cloths but a hand darted out from beneath the blankets to catch at him. 

"Stay," the emperor said. His grip was tight enough to hurt, almost bruising against the sharp jut of Yan Zheyun's wrist bone, but Yan Zheyun didn't pull away. 

"I'll be right back," he soothed. "I'm not going anywhere." 

The emperor stirred restlessly as he scrutinised Yan Zheyun's face with an almost exaggerated suspicion. His earlier teasing had all but disappeared, unveiling an anxiety that seemed to be amplified by Yan Zheyun's attempt to leave. 

Despite the handful of instances of physical intimacy that they'd shared before, Yan Zheyun couldn't claim to know the emperor well and vice versa. There was so much that they kept carefully hidden from each other, wearing facades that they crafted into armour to protect themselves, that Yan Zheyun wasn't sure how much of the previous interactions had been genuine and how much had been tailor-made to suit a particular purpose. 

But now, he was looking at a vulnerability that he didn't think the emperor would willingly show to anyone, not even to put on an act. 

It made his heart soften, voice light with a quiet affection as he offered reassurance to a man he'd never thought would require it. "Your Majesty can keep watching," he said, "Yan Yun promised to take care of Your Majesty and won't go far. I will remain in your line of sight, all right?" 

The emperor sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. His radial pulse, which happened to be pressed against the firm heel of Yan Zheyun's palm, beat steadily. 

Thump, thump, thump. 

Yan Zheyun felt his quicken in response. 

"Come back quickly," the emperor urged him hoarsely. "Hurry." 

Yan Zheyun knew that withdrawal—and he was fairly certain by now that this was what they were facing—often came with mood changes and swings. He'd never had to play nurse to anyone with a severe case of this before; Hua Zhixuan had spent most of the week docile as a baby deer, relying on Gracious Consort Yao and him in turn, whoever was willing to pamper him.

He was the complete opposite to the uncertain agitation brewing in the emperor and Yan Zheyun didn't know what else to do besides ease him into as much rest as possible. Checking the closest cupboard, he was relieved to find a set of robes and some towels, which he brought back to the bedside. He hadn't seen any spare bedclothes but the outer robe he retrieved was made of simple soft silk and wouldn't be uncomfortable to lie in. 

"Your Majesty, please allow Yan Yun to assist you with changing." 

In the time that Yan Zheyun's back had been turned, the emperor had shifted position again, propping himself up on one arm as he tried to get back out of bed. Rushing over, he pushed firmly on the emperor's shoulder until he relented and lay back down with a frustrated huff. 

…this had to be a symptom of the withdrawal right? Because the alternative was that the emperor was just the patient from hell and Head Eunuch Cao's swift and unhesitating retreat earlier on was starting to make a lot more sense. 

If the emperor were any of Yan Zheyun's little siblings, he would have received a sharp rap to the forehead and an admonishment by now. But as it were, Yan Zheyun had no choice but to coax what felt like a late onset of teenage rebelliousness into a semblance of obeisance. 

"This sovereign doesn't want to change," the emperor muttered. "Let me wait in the courtyard, I can't stand sitting around doing nothing." 

"Yan Yun apologises but Yan Yun cannot." It was a rare situation where Yan Zheyun found himself with more strength than this man who, when at the top of his game, could probably scoop him up and carry him with one arm. He took full advantage of this, gently but firmly manhandling the emperor out of his sticky bedclothes. The emperor was still muscular but his weight loss was painfully visible and the twinge in Yan Zheyun's chest when he noted this robbed him of all mood to admire the beauty of the emperor's body. 

It was a matter of time before they found out who was responsible for this. He suspected that the emperor already had his suspicions. Yan Zheyun just wondered if he would ever be strong enough to handle the situation with the heavy hand he was so tempted to use.

Emperor or no, Son of Heaven or no, to Yan Zheyun, this was the man he liked and for as long as they had this relationship, there were few lengths that he wouldn't go to to protect him. 

"I don't want to sleep," the emperor was mumbling into Yan Zheyun's shoulder. He seemed a lot drowsier now, a lethargy in his movements that hadn't been there just moments ago, but his bloodshot eyes were blown wide as he stared into the distance, seemingly at nothing. He seemed to have forgotten who he was, putting his status aside as he spoke to Yan Zheyun without any of the decorum that must have been instilled in him by his tutors from a young age. "I want to wait outside, I'm good at it, I stayed up that whole night waiting for you but you never came." 

Yan Zheyun pulled him close and stroked his back the way he would an upset child. The emperor didn't sound coherent anymore, was perhaps hallucinating, he didn't know. The things he was saying made no sense to Yan Zheyun and, more than that, made him slightly uncomfortable. The emperor was in his arms now, he could feel an alarming heat radiating off him, but he also felt miles away, intangible, like if Yan Zheyun didn't hold on tight, he would slip away into nothingness. 

It wasn't the time to ask questions about plum flowers and lost loves. They would have to talk about that in the future but for now, the best he could do was to try and ground the emperor in the present, keep him close and focused on Yan Zheyun. 

"May Yan Yun lie down with you, Your Majesty?" he asked, gears turning in his head as he thought hard about how he could viably keep the emperor in the room. He didn't think going out for a walk would be a bad thing per se, but the emperor's behaviour was unpredictable and Yan Zheyun doubted he would be able to stop him from causing a commotion if something provoked him once they went outside. 

Fortunately, his suggestion had its intended effect. The emperor stilled for a second, before he scooted inside, making space for Yan Zheyun to slip in. Yan Zheyun blew out the closest candles before lying down next to him. The only source of light left was the paper lamp near the window, whose dim warm glow wasn't sufficient enough to combat the shadows that swarmed in but just enough to let Yan Zheyun make out the emperor's features. 

This was the second time he lay side by side with the emperor and the first that had nothing to do with sex. The bed wasn't big, and the emperor was a tall man, such that when they lay facing each other, their knees and arms had no choice but to brush against each other. The sheets were slightly damp too, and rumpled from the emperor's tossing and turning. If it had been anyone else, Yan Zheyun might have resented being made to lie down in someone else's sweat. But in the dark, the emperor's eyes were like obsidian, wide and strangely guileless as he stared at Yan Zheyun like he was the only thing left in the world worth looking at. 

Yan Zheyun knew that the emperor wasn't in the right frame of mind but being at the centre of all that attention was still..flattering. He reminded himself not to let it get to his head. 

{It might not mean much now. After he recovers, then…then maybe.]

"Go to sleep," he whispered, reaching up to brush the stray wisps of fringe that had fallen across the emperor's face. It had to be a trick of the light because he'd never thought he'd ever see the emperor looking so young and lost. "When you wake up, Head Eunuch Cao and Imperial Physician Fu will be back with the answers you want. Sleep, Your Majesty." 

[And I will support you through your next decisions.] 

"Liu Yao." 

Yan Zheyun went very still, not daring to breathe in case he accidentally made too much noise and shattered the beautiful illusion he was convinced he was suspended in. 

His lack of response seemed to trigger a deep-seated insecurity in the emperor. Fingers clasped in the crumpled folds of Yan Zheyun's robes. They had been oversized to begin and with just a couple of tugs, loosened enough at the collar to display a shameful amount of skin. He frowned and was about to try and cover himself up when the emperor shifted forward to pull Yan Zheyun into a tight hug and Yan Zheyun's mind went blank. 

"Call me Liu Yao," the emperor mumbled. His lips were ticklish as they brushed against Yan Zheyun's skin. He must be running a temperature, Yan Zheyun thought dazedly because there was no other reason why the fleeting touches felt like the marks of a hot branding iron, searing through muscle and flesh to engrave themselves deep in Yan Zheyun's bones. He couldn't see what the emperor was doing but he was near a particularly sensitive area of Yan Zheyun's body, had to bite his lip to distract himself from the unnerving sensation of having the emperor's mouth too close to the pink nub that had hardened in anticipation of his touch. 

A hand, rough with multiple sets of callouses, palmed at the curve of Yan Zheyun's hip with a domineering insistence but the emperor's voice was plaintive as he said, "Why won't you call me—"

"Liu Yao," Yan Zheyun gasped out when a small, sharp nip on the thin skin stretched over his collarbones took him by surprise. 

Like someone had hit a switch, Liu Yao finally quietened down in Yan Zheyun's arms. 

"This sovereign is tired," Yan Zheyun heard him say. 

[How could you not be?] Yan Zheyun thought, his stomach sinking heavily. Liu Yao. Now that he'd been given a name to use, the emperor was no longer just a title Yan Zheyun had to respect, a husband Yan Zheyun had been gifted to. He was a person, had an identity that was more than just the ultimate protector of his realm. Along with this came hopes and dreams, fears and worries, and struggles that he must have faced alone when no one else was looking. 

Another lonely soul, just like Yan Zheyun's. When he allowed himself to think of the emperor—no, of Liu Yao, like that, the resulting heartache was inevitable. 

"Go to sleep," he repeated softly, cajolingly. He didn't have much in this world, a pathetic number of friends and this one elusive person he hadn't expected to want so badly. If they were stolen from him too…

He wasn't sure he would survive losing everything again. 

"Yan Yun." Liu Yao's voice was faint like he was already halfway to dreaming of the Duke of Zhou (1). "Can I trust you?" 

Ya Zheyun tightened his hold like he was trying to anchor Liu Yao to him. 

"For as long as I can trust you," he promised.