openmisc | Aaron/Huaisang

"Can't wait," he says honestly and, for the first time in a very long time, he's starting to feel back to himself. There's no one to hide behind here. No reason to do so. He sticks by Huaisang's side, but he knows that he doesn't have to. He's not obligated.

And as they approach the city and more people greet him, Aaron feels less left out and more - proud. Proud of where his friend has come. All the things he did, all the sacrifices he made. They were worth it.

Eventually the crowd becomes too much even for a man like Huaisang to keep up with, and they fall into anonymity among the streets of Qinghe. It's a pretty little city, lots of lovely lanterns and stalls selling quality goods and food. Huaisang happily takes Aaron's arm and guides him along to his favorite places - the art shop on the corner, the rows and rows of fabric and clothing stalls, the shops with the ornaments and fans and pretty little trinkets.

He lets Aaron pick out whatever he wants to have. He doesn't need to even ask; any little interest is enough for Huaisang to hand over some silver or gold.

He's not really interested in clothes and fabrics, but a few do catch his eye and he lingers there a few seconds too long here and there, especially on a few darker tones. The light blue might look good, but the dark blues are interesting.

He doesn't miss Huaisang giving up a few pieces of gold and silver in exchange for a pretty little box the size of his palm, a wooden carving of a lotus, and a peacock pendant.

The crowds are a bit much and Aaron starts to falter a bit.

Fortunately Huaisang pays close attention to small social cures - it’s one of his specialties, after all. Something he can do without the Daoist magic.

“There’s a place up ahead that makes the fluffiest buns you’ve ever seen-” he says excitedly, pulling Aaron towards one of his favorite inns.

Aaron isn't particularly hungry at the moment, but the break is welcome, and he accepts the suggestion of an inn with a nod.

"Okay, okay!"

He stays close.

Huaisang can always go for a snack, or at least a drink, and so he guides them through some of the narrow alleys and dodging through the wide, crowded streets until he finds his favorite inn. It's quiet, with good food and good liquor, and the inn owner doesn't do silly things like humble himself in front of Huaisang or bend over backwards to please him. He's just a customer.

He walks in and chooses a place to sit - in the corner, away from most others.

"Don't suppose you ever use actual chairs," he mutters with a smile, more than happy to sit at the table. He always feels a little too gangly, a little too out of place, when he does.

What. Actual chairs? "What do you mean? We have seats. Stools and benches and all that. You don't like the cushions? They're comfy."

"Oh don't get all twisted. I ain't complaining. They're fine," he grins, watching his reaction.

He grins behind his fan. “Young Master Aaron thinks he’s funny, does he? Does he want a drink?”

"Hell yeah," he grins, sitting forward. "What is it?"

“Rice wine. It’s great. Really dry and strong.”

He grins in return and raises his arm up to call over the innkeeper for a bottle of liquor and two cups.

Aaron automatically goes quiet when someone else walks past, but when the drinks are set down, he grins.

"Just one. You get me drunk and you'll have to carry me to wherever we're staying."

“What, you can’t walk those stairs just behind us?”

Huaisang grins and pours generously into both cups.

"Can, but won't," he laughs, picking up his cup and giving it a quick sip of a taste.

“I’ll carry you, don’t worry,” he grins, downing his little cup of wine. “After I have my fill of liquor and food anyway.”

"With those skinny fucning arms?" he laughs. "No way."

But he does finally drink, making a face at it. It's dry, but not terrible.

Huaisang just smiles. Skinny arms he may have, but he also has a golden core.

“I can make it up a few stairs. I’m ordering us some buns-” He turns around and holds up the hand still holding his fan.

Aaron smirks. "Good. They all different kinds, right? The sweet ones and the others. Reminds me of the dumplings my grandmama used to make us."

"You'll like the red bean paste one."

He orders an assortment, some with the braised oxtail, some with pork, some with lotus root and some with red bean paste. All of them are light and fluffy and perfect.

Aaron tries a few, but more importantly he has a few more drinks. He does decide that he does like the red bean paste, but pretends like he doesn't so Huaisang doesn't know that he's right.

" - so the wedding was ruined because of Alex, but no one actually found out it was him. He didn't get to do weddings anymore after that, though."

Huaisang likes this little night together. They flirt, they laugh, they share stories. He's shaking his head in amusement as he throws back the remains of his final cup.

"Doing just funerals must have been dreary as all hell. Plus no tips."

"Exactly. Which means that I had to pay for his lunches every week!" he laughs, sitting back a little. "Shit, man...I think I'm tapped out."

Huaisang nods towards the stairwell behind them, pulling a few pieces of silver from his sleeve to pay for their food and drink. "Come on, I'll show you the room."

Because of course Nie Huaisang has a favor room at the inn.

Aaron stands up, gesturing for him to lead the way. His head is spinning, he's been staring at Huaisang's stupid fucking face all day and that goddamn fan....

He is desperate for some privacy.

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