Han Xin nuzzled his nose into Xiang Yu’s hair, inhaling the familiar floral scent. "I am," he murmured, "but I can never have enough of you. Once I get my stamina back, I will rock your world."
Xiang Yu chuckled, the vibrations from Han Xin’s chest stirring something deep in him. "You already are, my love," he whispered, smiling sweetly.
Han Xin kissed the top of Xiang Yu’s head, then hesitated. "I have something to tell you."
Xiang Yu, still lost in the warmth of their bathhouse memories, replied absentmindedly, "What is it?"
Han Xin opened his mouth, but no sound came. He tried again. "I—"
Xiang Yu looked up, catching the anxious glint in Han Xin’s eyes. His heart skipped. He sat up quickly. "Xin-ge, what’s wrong?"
Han Xin’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He was afraid, afraid Xiang Yu would be angry, afraid of what this truth might do to them.
Xiang Yu cupped his face gently. "Han Xin, you are scaring me."
Han Xin held the backs of Xiang Yu’s hands, pulled them away slowly, and took a trembling breath.
"I... I umm... we ne-"
Xiang Yu’s blood ran cold. Han Xin’s voice had trembled, his gaze evasive, and Xiang Yu’s mind spiraled into panic. Was this it? Was he about to leave him? The thought alone made Xiang Yu’s heart seize.
If Han Xin dared to utter the words "we need to talk" in the way lovers did before they broke up, Xiang Yu swore he’d tie him up, drag him back to his realm, and lock him in the most comfortable dungeon he could think of.
He was already mentally selecting which things to add in the dungeon to make it more comfortable when Han Xin suddenly slid off the bed and knelt.
Xiang Yu bolted upright, grabbing his arm. "Xin-ge, what are you doing?"
Han Xin didn’t rise. His head remained bowed, hair cascading like a curtain of shame. "I did something wrong," he whispered. Xiang Yu froze.
Han Xin could only resort to this method. He had once seen his father, the most Divine Being in existence kneel before his mother. That was the only time he had ever seen him truly sincere.
Xiang Yu’s heart thudded painfully. He knew Han Xin wouldn’t stand even if he begged. So he leaned back, feigning calm, though his hands clenched the silk sheets so tightly his veins throbbed. His throat was dry, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
"What did you do wrong?" he asked, voice barely steady.
Han Xin’s fingers curled against his thighs. "I... do you... do you remember when I lost control and entered my divine state?" Follow current novels on novel⚑fire.net
Of course Xiang Yu remembered. That day was etched into his soul.
"I remember," he said quietly, eyes locked on Han Xin’s tense figure. The room held its breath.
Han Xin raised his head slowly, eyes shimmering with hesitation. "Well, um... that day, I did something I shouldn’t have done."
Xiang Yu’s brow arched, confusion flickering across his face. "What did you do?"
Their eyes locked, and Han Xin’s cheeks and ears flushed a deep crimson. He bit his lip, the words trembling on the edge of his breath. "I... I left a divine seed embedded in your soul."
Xiang Yu blinked. The tension that had gripped his chest loosened all at once. He leaned down, a laugh escaping him, cool, calm, and full of relief. "Hahahaha, for a moment I thought you were going to dump me."
Han Xin’s eyes widened in panic. He waved his hands frantically. "No, no! I would rather my soul shatter into pieces than do that!"
Xiang Yu chuckled, the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "So what if you left something in my soul? It all belongs to you anyway. Why are you being so dramatic?"
Han Xin pursed his lips, unable to respond.
Xiang Yu noticed the silence and the way Han Xin’s fingers nervously rubbed together. His brows furrowed. "What is this divine seed?"
Han Xin swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gathered the courage to speak. "It means... we are going to have a child."
Xiang Yu froze. His mind stalled, unable to process the words that had just left Han Xin’s lips. A child? It echoed in his head like a gong, loud and surreal. Then, without warning, he burst out laughing—sharp, startled, almost manic.
"Xin-ge," he said between gasps, "your sense of humor has improved!"
Han Xin blinked, startled by the reaction. But he didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile.
Xiang Yu’s laughter faltered, then died completely as he caught the guilty look on Han Xin’s face.
"Fuck," Xiang Yu muttered, eyes widening. "You are not joking."
"Han Xin!" he yelled, voice cracking with disbelief.
Han Xin’s face was etched with remorse. He shuffled forward, kneeling at Xiang Yu’s feet, and gently took his hands. "Baby, I am so sorry. I was wrong. I didn’t even know I did that."
Xiang Yu stared at him, stunned. "Is that why I have been feeling like crap all this time?"
Han Xin nodded, eyes downcast.
Xiang Yu didn’t speak. He just looked at Han Xin, really looked at him. He didn’t mind the idea of a child, not truly. But the fear crept in like frost. Would he be like his father? Cold, cruel, distant? Was that darkness in his blood too?
Han Xin saw the storm behind Xiang Yu’s eyes, and his heart shattered.
Han Xin lowered his gaze, guilt etched into every line of his face. "Baby... you can hit me if it will make you feel better."
Xiang Yu blinked, pulled from the fog of his thoughts. He looked at Han Xin, who knelt before him with such sincerity it made his chest ache. A soft smile tugged at Xiang Yu’s lips as he reached out and stroked Han Xin’s head gently.
"I would never do that," he whispered. "I am happy that we will have a child... I am just a little scared, that’s all."
Han Xin took Xiang Yu’s hand and kissed the back of it tenderly, lips lingering as if trying to soothe the tremble in Xiang Yu’s heart. "You have me, babe. I will always be by your side. And if the brat causes trouble, we have got my father and mother. I will give them the little ancestor."