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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[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.

[threedontknows]

There’s a lot of correspondence to keep up with - the Emperor’s court is asking for the Qinghe Nie’s assistance, some local farmers feel the taxes are too high, there are logistics to go over for the conference in Gusu. Huaisang sips his tea and eats a bun as he works, pausing occasionally to look over at Aaron.

He happily gives him some rice paper and a brush, showing him how to work the ink stick and ink well.

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron takes to it easily, eating while he writes, scribbling out a few words here and there. But he writes in English, not in Huaisang's language, which he finds...fascinating.

"Finished your poem."

[threedontknows]

Huaisang also pauses to watch Aaron to work, impressed with the scribbling of unfamiliar characters.

He sets down his brush and moved a little closer to him, adjusting Aaron’s collar affectionately. “Read it to me?”

[creeksidealtarboy]

Aaron smiles over his shoulder at him.

"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.

His tresses flow like rivers in the dark,
An ebony cascade, a midnight stream,
In every braid, a tender lover's mark,
A silken touch, a sweet and haunting dream.

With eyes that gleam like stars in the moon's embrace,
He stole my heart, a thief of gentle grace.
In his embrace, I find my endless place,
A love profound, a sweet and tender space."

[threedontknows]

But surely he’s exaggerating for the sake of the poem, the beauty and rhythm of the words. He can’t mean it all, he can’t think those things about him —

It’s beautiful.

Huaisang automatically goes to reach for his fan, but stops himself. Instead he allows his eyes to remain overbright.

“It’s very pleasing to the ear.”

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Yeah, I'm still working on it," he says, somewhat shyly. He wasn't sure what he was expecting as a response, but he doesn't know what to do with genuine praise.

"Anyway, it's stupid. C'mon, let's go for that walk."

[threedontknows]

He's so adorable! Huaisang smiles and takes his arm, hanging on Aaron a little as they walk together. "I'll show you all the gardens. Da-ge let me take care of them from an early age. They're my pride and joy."

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Saw a little of 'em the first night," he recalls. "But not in the day. There's all different kinds, right?"

[threedontknows]

"All different kinds," he says happily. "Representation of different seasons, different moods and elements. There's one where I only planted red and purples!"

[creeksidealtarboy]

"Cool."

He straightens his robes as they walk. "Show me whatever you want.'

[threedontknows]

He isn't sure that Aaron really cares, but when has that ever stopped him before? He drags him out of the family wing and into the main courtyard, over the long boardwalks overlooking carefully-combed rock and sand gardens and immaculately kept plants.

Huaisang talks. And talks. He talks just to fill the air, aware of his own awkwardness but hoping that it'll come across as charming.