Displaced Feelings
calyan | calji fic 🍄 wuthering waves
tags: implied sexual content, strangers to lovers, mild hurt/comfort, general jiyan, mercenary calcharo
ao3 link
Jiyan knew about Calcharo's survival story, he knew exactly what kind of man the mercenary was. Ruthless, brutal, with dirty tricks and extremely strategic. The general knew who he was, but even so, he didn't stop loving the man he couldn't hold in his arms.
Jiyan knew exactly the situation he was in, and somehow, he didn't make any decision to run away and prevent it from getting worse. He just waited to know what would happen in the end.
Calcharo was not someone easy to deal with, much less to work with. However, for some reason, Jiyan considered the deal offered by the mercenary to be beneficial and because of that, Jiyan allowed certain comforts to come into his life.
He has always been meticulous in every decision he made, focused on his objective, without deviating for any reason. Since he was a child, with his participation in his mother's work, he was able to deal with different personalities and the problems and needs of the people.
His mother had taught him well, whether as a doctor or how to deal with other people's emotions and feelings. Never with his own, even though now, in his adult life, he had learned considerably to deal with his own problems.
Jiyan didn't have a problem with death, not usually, not until his last friend and mentor died, and he was unable to reclaim the life of the one he enjoyed being close to.
And when he joined the Midnight Rangers, military instruction only served to improve his intellect and intuition, on the battlefield or to help care for those who were injured, seriously or otherwise.
Gaining prominence in his fights was not his focus, not when he was dealing with melancholy, frustration and regret, learning to turn each of these feelings into a lit fire so that he could fight head-on against those he wished death on.
So, hearing directly from Calcharo that he recognized and appreciated the strategies and method of fighting that Jiyan offered, placing his weight on protecting his group, was like a second heat ignited in his body.
Jiyan knew who Calcharo was, knew his reputation, his story of survival, the kind of man the mercenary was. Ruthless, brutal, with dirty tricks and extremely strategic. The general knew who he was, but even so, he didn't stop loving the man he couldn't hold in his arms.
When Jiyan met with Calcharo in Huanglong, he promised an alliance, in which both sides would support each other during the necessary fights. Except the man didn't expect to see a not-so-popular side of the mercenary like this.
Of course, the fact that the man agreed to wear the uniform while in the city of Jinzhou left Jiyan a little surprised, since the group of mercenaries were not so flexible about changing what would be recognized by them.
But the surprise coming from the town's people's excessive kindness made Jiyan feel a slight funny feeling when he saw how perplexed and suspicious the other man was. Indeed, the people of Jinzhou were kindhearted. Too much.
He didn't understand why the people were so kind and charitable, among themselves and with foreigners, but in a way, it still left him happy and with a feeling of home to think about.
Both of them, even with their work, the fights and the harvests for the doctors and the people, spent more time together, whether in groups or alone.
Jiyan didn't fail to present points of the city, much less did he avoid showing the few traditions they had. From celebratory parties, dancing in groups or with couples. All a great surprise, and one he could tell Calcharo appreciated.
Jiyan couldn't say when he started to change, but the few moments together, alone, he knew he had an extra feeling, something different. Maybe the long looks, the more explicit touches on his body, from his arms, his waist or his back, maybe all of that, started to sound the sirens that something was changing and Jiyan, far from worrying about stopping it, realized be dancing around him even more.
When the day of Loong's Ascension arrived, Huanglong's most popular festival, Jiyan knew that small line had been broken when he felt Calcharo's lips on his body and firm hands on his waist, bringing him closer.
The medicinal baths were particularly lonely, but since both men became more injured and exhausted from taking the front line, they didn't mind sharing.
And having, at that moment, the hands and lips of the man who was leaving him in doubt about his feelings all over his body, had let a small fraction of his power slip through his hands. Jiyan knew he wanted Calcharo, just as the desire in his eyes said the feeling was reciprocated.
However, what they would be, he could not say, but Jiyan longed for the man to cradle him as close to him, as at that moment, in several others. May he keep it and accept it as his own.
Jiyan was not selfish, he never learned to be, but something about that man made desire arise.
The desire to have the man as his was as great as the power that emanated in his hands, desperate to have more.
