openmisc | Pagan/Huaisang

Pagan/Huaisang

"Ah! No, no. I don't need to send the messenger. Just let me go," he tells the guards at the gates, waving them away as he walks straight through with his sword at his side, his entourage behind him. They walks in with their white robes, though Pagan is in red and black, and he breathes in the Impure Realm. He hasn't been here since the death of the Nie clan leader, but he's been aiming to check on their newest leader. It's been a dark time for them, for all of them, but he still feels more than a twinge of affection for the boy.

Well, man. He's been a man for several years now, but it doesn't seem like anything has changed.

Still, he promised he'd continue to offer support, so he walks on, ignoring the protests of the guards.

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Pagan's smile is subtle. "Yes," he says with a nod. "Yes, I'd like that for you. That's what you can be here. Right now, in this moment. We're so far away from home, your home, that you might as well no longer exist."

Would he want to be a nobody? Yes, maybe that’s exactly what he’s needed this entire time. Never the baby brother, never a sect heir or grieving, bumbling leader. Just A-Sang, a nobody.

He sips the tea again thoughtfully. “At least for an evening.”

"Then finish your meal and be yourself," he says with a smile. He drains the beer and the tea next, feeling full and happy with the meal.

He laughs to himself and leans forward to do exactly that, enjoying the food while it’s still warm. He keeps the beer for last, finishing off his final sip only when there’s one perfect mouthful of food left.

He groans happily as he sets the empty cup onto the table.

Pagan laughs, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. "Well, shall we retire for the evening?" He can hear the wind picking up outside.

"I think it might snow tonight."

He leans back onto his arms, listening to the wind start its howling outside. The mountain wind isn't strange to Huaisang, but this does seem a bit more vicious than what he's used to.

"I'm going to be cold," he says with a quiet huff.

"You won't." He stands and opens a trunk nearby, pulling out two outfits made of the same thin material as what they're wearing, but they're much looser. "Wear these. And we have plenty of furs to put over ourselves. It does mean that we will need to share the bed, Xiao Nie."

"Of course we're going to need to share the bed," he replies. He stands up with a quiet, put-upon sigh that's clearly exaggerating because it tickles him. He starts undressing, considering briefly putting on a show until he actually feeling the chill on his skin. He yelps softly and quickly strips down and redresses himself in the looser clothes.

He snorts. "You can sleep on the floor. You're in my room, you know." He watches him dress in amusement before he does the same, bringing the furs and lying them over the bed.

“You wouldn’t make your strongest ally sleep on the floor. That would disrespect the ghost of my father.”

He sets his fan and talisman paper down onto the table and picks up a corner of the furs to help Min Pagan arrange the bed.

"The things I've done to disrespect your father number in the thousands," he remarks with a playful sort of laugh, retrieving the second set of furs just as the wind picks up. "Get in. Tell me if it's warm enough."

Nie Huaisang quickly picks up on the implications of that, and wrinkles his nose. He's smart enough to keep his mouth shut though and does as Pagan says, crawling into the furs and immediately feeling that all-encompassing warmth. It's perfect, though in true Nie Huaisang fashion he lets out a little shiver. "Could be warmer."

Pagan reaches over and brushes his fingers along his cheek just before he slips into bed with him. "Better?"

He shivers again, though not from the cold, and waits with baited breath for Pagan to get into the bed with him. He bunches the furs around his shoulder and peers across the bed at him, nodding slowly. "Better," he says quietly, and inches forward.

"Help me with the braids in my hair?" he asks, turning over to let Pagan have access to the piled braids pinned to his head.

"Are you certain?"

He raises his eyebrows a little. He knows the significance of those braids, and he won't touch them unless Huaisang truly does want him to.

He sits up slowly, loose-fitting tunic sliding off one shoulder. He nods; he can’t sleep with his hair pinned to his head, and more importantly, he wants him to.

He turns again and waits patiently. “Just try not to lose the pins. They’re made of jade.”

Pagan reaches up to undo the plaits, deft fingers along each one of them, pulling the pins out and setting them delicately to the side, on a low table beside them. "I'll get you ones made of ivory," he murmurs.

“Ivory,” repeats Nie Huaisang, closing his eyes as he feels Pagan’s fingers in his hair. He hasn’t had someone braid his hair since Mingjue.

“Do you intend to keep spoiling me? Showering me with lovely gifts?”

"Yes," he says, finishing undoing a braid as he slides his hands along his shoulders. "Do you intend to continue accepting them? It has been a very long time since I have met someone who appreciates beauty the way I do. I want to encourage it. And - " his breath hitches slightly. "I enjoy seeing you happy."

Nie Huaisang tilts his head slightly in consideration. He does enjoy the pretty gifts, but more than that he enjoys the attention.

“Only if we acknowledge what the gifts mean,” he replies quietly. “Are you trying to court me, A-gan?”

"Will you let me?"

He presses a soft kiss to his shoulder as the storm picks up outside.

Between the wind whipping the outside of the small hut and Pagan’s gentle kiss, Nie Huaisang feels like he’s the one flying away. He inhales sharply, loud enough for Pagan to hear.

“I’m not like my father and brother,” he warns him, bringing long, raven hair over one shoulder. “If you’re going to court me, you’ll need to do it properly, with the understanding that it’s all or nothing. I won’t be casually wooed.”

He can’t be. If Pagan wants to be with the real him, he’ll need to bring him into his confidence. It’s a terrifying thought, and if Pagan isn’t serious he could undo all those years of subterfuge. All that work, for nothing.

"I'm not courting the Headshaker or your brother or your father. I never courted them."

It wasn't ever anything done with intention.

This is intention. Another braid down and he ghosts a kiss on his bared neck.

That was the implication, that he hadn’t courted his brother or father, just had an affair with them and left the romance aside. Nie Huaisang doesn’t want that - he’s had his share of anonymous dalliances, but he was always putting on an act.

If Pagan wants the real him, which apparently he does, it has to be worth it.

“But you want that with me,” he says quietly, glancing back at him.

Pagan hums softly, taking down another pin and setting it aside. He combs his fingers through his long hair.

"I wouldn't have invited you here otherwise. This is my sanctuary, my refuge."

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