Rule Number One { Xiatong x Galuil }

     You do not mess with a heavenly beast’s claws.

     That was one of the first lessons a hunter was to learn if ever to slay a beast of this kind. The creatures all differed in appearance, size, and power, their attributes all different depending on the particular foe. Of course, claws were not the only issue– some heavenly beasts, of mighty strength and broadened back, had wings sprouting at the edge of their spine, ones who would carry their weight to attack from the heavens. Some, of razor reflexes and slender bodies, had a tail they wielded like a weapon, precise and deadly as an element of war. Some, of a cunning worthy of a conscious mind, had learned to adapt their bodies to matters outside of air and would lurk underwater in wait of their prey. No matter the foe one was aiming to take on, there was a constant to uphold above all.

     Heavenly beast’s claws are as sharp as a blade. You do not mess with a heavenly beast’s claws.

     But there had been no room to remember a hunter’s lessons when Galuil got injured.

     It all happened in a flash. Their weapons, drawn in battle, against an enemy they could barely see. Nature had been seduced by the creature to take its side, and the alliance manifested in a rain so thick that visibility was minimal for the ororenin pair. Despite this, they kept fighting– their blades worked in tandem, both perfect opposites to attack the monster’s flesh. But the rain made it hard for them to aim, and it showed. Xiaotong cursed loudly when an attack would miss, slashing the sky from the creature’s skin. Galuil would instead put the momentum of a failed blow to try and recover, do a second one, aiming double the strength towards a target he could not see. They got careless through the battle, the adrenaline, and the fingers of defeat slowly wrapping around their necks. And while trying to cover Xiaotong’s body from an attack, Galuil stepped up with his glaive to the side. The heavenly beasts’ claws got to him soon after.

     Retreat was a blur, one that neither of the hunters could recount in live detail. Not that they were paying attention to it at all. Xiatong remembers the blood coursing through onto the floor, and when holding onto Galuil, through the hunter’s clothing. He had fled from the monster just barely, the creature’s bloodlust too strong, but Xiatong’s will to save Galuil even stronger. Galuil remembers sharp pain coursing through his back, dangerously close to his spine, shooting red into his vision. The pain brought him in and out of consciousness, one where he was struggling to hold on to, if not for his sake but his partner’s. With how weak he was at the moment, it proved futile.

     The next time he awoke, it was morning.

     Xiatong’s hands were on his shoulders, gently pressing to make sure that Galuil would lay back down. Galuil, shocked from the stupor of sleep and confusion, hadn’t even noticed he had been trying to stand.

     “Down,” Xiatong growled, and though his voice was sharp, there was concern tinged through every syllable. Galuil obliged, once again acting more for his partner’s sake than his own.

     “Are–?” he tried to speak, that cheery voice he always let show around Xiatong, but the effort sent ripples of pain across his body. He hissed and contorted instead, making himself smaller.

     “Don’t,” Xiatong replied, pressing his shoulder again. This time for comfort. “Don’t speak more than you need to. Just focus on resting.”

     A smart plan, but Galuil had priorities. “You’re hurt?” he croaked out.

     “No,” Xiatong replied, but he didn’t necessarily sound happy about it.

     Silence, and it was bitter.

     There was may more than Galuil wanted to add. First of all, good. That was good. Taking an attack to the back wasn’t fun, but if Xiatong had taken it from the front it would have probably been fatal. He shuddered at the mental image of those claws digging into skin. Okay, yeah, maybe think about something else.

     He examined Xiatong, or at least what he could see of him from an angle such as this. The ororenin looked more tired than he had in months, but there were no more bandages than a couple over minor scratches. Guess Galuil had taken the worst of it, and that knowledge seemed to comfort him more than any words he could speak out loud. Finally letting that initial concern fall through the cracks, he relaxed against the furs he was laying on and decided not to break the quiet.

     Xiatong did, his voice hoarse, “you can’t be reckless like that.”

     “Reck…less?”  

     “Reckless. Because I know you are not stupid, Galuil, but that,” Xiatong gestured at his back, now covered by fabric that Galuil didn’t remember being bandaged with. “That certainly was.”

     “No, it wasn’t,” Galuil frowned. He didn’t try standing again, but he managed to roll a bit to his side, as much as he could without putting pressure on the wound. It was enough to be able to look up at his partner, who didn’t look amused.

     “Yes. It was,” he growled. “What’s rule number one?”

     “You were going to get hurt,” Galuil sighed, avoiding the silver and gold in Xiatong’s eyes... “Look, I–”

     Suddenly Xiatong’s hand was on his chin, tilting upwards. In an effort to force eye contact. “What is rule number one, Galuil?”

     “Don't give me that,” Galuil barked, eyebrows knitting together. “I’m not a novice, and you are not my master. I learned the ways of the hunt years ago.”

     “You sure were acting like one,” Xiatong shot back. His voice was heavy, tinged with lead. “Damn it– What is the number one rule, Galuil?”

     “You could have been hurt!” Galuil protested.

     “You could have been killed!”

     Again, silence, and it was painful.

     They held their gazes locked even after the devastating blow. Xiatong’s chest felt heavy after roaring out his words, the debate almost a full-blown fight. As soon as the realization of conflict crossed his mind, his hand relaxed, letting go of his partner’s chin. Regret washed over him, so much so that he moved to get away. But Galuil didn’t let him, instead reaching up with one of his arms to grab onto Xiatong’s hand.

     “W-wait, no,” Xiatong’s fire had gone out, looking even more tired than ever. He tried to move away again, concerned that the movement would mess with his partner’s injuries, but Galuil didn’t budge.

     “Please listen to me,” Galuil spoke. His voice was soft, not at all what Xiatong was expecting. “I am okay. I am alive. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

     “Y-you can’t do that again,” moving forward, Xiatong’s forehead came in contact with the other. He leaned in, still careful with his movements. “You can’t do that again, Galuil. I thought you were dead.”

     “I know,” the tension was slowly melting away. “I needed to protect you. If I hadn’t you were gonna, you would…” It was hard to finish that sentence. “I’m sorry.”

     They held each other, sitting together without speaking again. Silence. Now, it was comforting. Galuil let go of Xiatong’s arm, instead drawing up to touch his partner’s cheek. The hunter leaned into the touch, fingers going up to match Galuil’s, and wrapped their hands together. The touch was gentle, and more than anything, it was real. They were both alive, and they were both together.

     Silence, and it was comforting.

     Both lovers allowed themselves to focus on the intimacy of their touch, and the proximity of their heartbeats. Little by little, speaking was made easy.

     “I’m sorry for raising my voice,” Xiaotong whispered. Galuil shook his head.

     “You were worried about me.”

     “I was.”

     “Well,” there was a hint of a smile peaking through Galuil’s lips. “I’m okay. Just a bit sore, but I’ll be fine in a couple of days, right?”

     “Yeah,” Xiatong smiled as well. “Just… don’t mess with–”

     “A heavenly beast’s claws,” Galuil chuckled, laying back down to try and rest. Now, his smile was wide, and he knew that with his lover caring for him, he would be okay in no time. “Yeah, got it.”