Aaron/Huaisang

[creeksidealtarboy]

It's nightfall by the time Aaron finally sees this "Impure Realm" that they took him to. He's hungry. He's filthy. He's thirsty. And there's nothing around him that's familiar. He has cigarettes in the pocket of his jeans and nothing else of his own. No note. No information.

Only the vaguely unsettling feeling that he's been deposited somewhere...wrong.

These people look like Huaisang. The robes, the way they move...it's familiar enough that, before they could unsheath their swords, he's throwing his hands out, asking for Nie Huaisang to their complete bafflement. But they loaded him up and took him. Goddamn.

Hopefully they sent someone ahead.

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[creeksidealtarboy]

"'O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem, For that sweet odour which doth in it live,'" he recites idly, rubbing at his face.

[threedontknows]

Actual poetry. Huaisang feels himself melt into the bed.

“Anxiously chirps the cicada.
Restlessly skips the grasshopper:
Before I saw my lord
My heart was ill at ease.
But now that I have seen him,
Now that I have met him,
My heart is at rest.”

[creeksidealtarboy]

"I haven't heard that one before," he comments lightly. "I like it."

[threedontknows]

“Of course you haven’t, it’s from my country,” Huaisang tells him with a yawn. “Do you only read poetry, or do you write it?”

[creeksidealtarboy]

"I read stuff from other countries!" he protests.

"But no. I haven't written any in years. Used to have notebooks full of em."

[threedontknows]

He smiles a little to himself and pulls a blanket up over his chest. Aaron can crawl into bed with him when he's done -- hopefully naked.

"Write me a poem."

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Yeah," he laughs. "I'll write you a poem. Tomorrow." He crawls out of the tub, dries off, and does indeed join him back in bed with no clothes on. He just needed to soak a while. Soothe his sore muscles.

[threedontknows]

Huaisang unabashedly tucks himself against him, laying his head in joy his chest with a soft, contented sigh.

“This is where you belong, in bed with me.”

[creeksidealtarboy]

"I could get used to it," he admits, draping an arm over him. "But now I want to sleep forever."

[threedontknows]

“Then sleep,” Huaisang says, leaning over to brush a kiss across Aaron’s temple. “As long as you’d like.”

And he’ll be there when he wakes.

[creeksidealtarboy]

He holds him tighter, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. He mumbles a bit of a laugh, then pulls back.

"In shadows cast, a man with hair of night,
His locks, a silken tapestry unfurled,
In every strand, a tale of love's delight,
A muse for poets, envy of the world."

[threedontknows]

Huaisang freezes, his heart leaping up into his throat.

A poem. A poem, just for him.

No one has ever shared his love of poetry, never mind actually cared to write something so lovely for him. He’s lovely — no, he’s beautiful. He’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever had in his bed.

“Pretty words from a pretty man. Go to sleep, pretty man.”

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron laughs, resting his head on a pillow. He thought he might feel foolish about it, but no. It feels warm.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll finish it tomorrow. Remember it for me, okay?"

And he closes his eyes.

[threedontknows]

“As though I could forget.”

He doesn’t fall asleep right away, thinking about Aaron with a smile on his face, running his fingers up and down his arm and chest in appreciation. When he does sleep it’s light, only for a few hours, and he wakes up excitedly to wash and spend a little time at his vanity.

He plays with his makeup, kohl and rouge and paint on his lips. He braids his hair. He thinks about the man sleeping in his bed.

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron's exhausted.

He sleeps far longer than he wanted to, stirring only slightly when Huaisang leaves him.

It takes him a full hour to finally wake up, turning and pulling the blankets up around him.

[threedontknows]

Huaisang has spent a while tarting himself up, and he feels silly when he has to step out to speak to some of the servants and his disciples. When he returns it’s with a tray of tea and a simple breakfast, and he sits at the table to do a little work for a while.

[creeksidealtarboy]

That effort isn't lost on Aaron. Once his eyes adjust, he sits up and blinks at him.

"You look like a damn angel," he mutters.

[threedontknows]

An angel. Well, at least he gets the reference now.

He blushes and sets down his brush onto the stand. “How did you sleep?”

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Real good. I like it here better than the inn. This feels - I don't know. More comfortable?"

He searches for his robes.

[threedontknows]

"Of course it does," Huaisang tells him, handing him a nice, silk robe he'd gotten from his brother's old wardrobe. It would fit Aaron far better, and the pain is...not as sharp to see it again.

"It's a home, not an inn."

[creeksidealtarboy]

"When do I get the robes we bought in town?" he wonders, taking the silken robe and wrapping himself up in it.

[threedontknows]

“Tonight,” he tells him. There was supposed to be a banquet held at the Impure Realm that very night, but Sect Leader Nie had canceled those plans in favor of a quiet meal with his guest. “We’ll walk through the garden together.”

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Alright," he smiles, unaware of any plans. "Gonna finish your poem today, too."

[threedontknows]

He beams. “You are? Oh, I can’t wait to hear it!” He grins and leans forward, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s mouth. “Have breakfast at the table while I answer some letters.”

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Sure."

He shakes his head playfully and sits at the table once he's dressed. He's starting to get a feel for meals and manages to get some practice with the chopsticks while Huaisang isn't looking.

"Can I have some paper or..uh, parchment?"

The first time he's outright asked for anything.