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houseofsushi2020-05-22 10:34 pm
deferences) wrote in houseofsushi2020-05-22 10:34 pm
Entry tags:
- lan sizhui,
- open,
- rp
He barely flinches when Sizhui starts to dab the blood away from his face. There would be no noticeable marks that Sizhui could see right away. He's thorough. Vincenzo could give his bride that. He watches as the mouth opens and closes, then as Sizhui contemplates his offer.
He huffs a soft sound of amusement. Vincenzo pulls at his tie, letting the silk loosen and slither out from his collar. He reaches up and unbuttons the buttons of his shirt. His hands have blood and gunfire residue, his body has a few bruises, but nothing worrisome. He watches Sizhui's expression.
"I am not a kind man, Sizhui," he says quietly. "I am the head of a Mafia family that makes Italy tremble."
Ordinarily, anyone else might have stopped at the sight of him cringing, yet Sizhui simply gives an apologetic look and lessens the pressure ever-so-slightly as he continues. One has to be conscientious when doctoring people up and while he isn't not sympathetic, he's still very professional in his work.
His mouth curves at the sound, a faint gesture of his own mirth, and although Sizhui's gaze flickers downward once Vincenzo begins undoing his tie, he urges himself to look away after he moves on to unbuttoning his shirt. Unsure why he needs an extra moment to steel his nerves, he finds a brief distraction in taking one of Vincenzo's hands and wiping away all the grime there, then downcasts his gaze to examine what marks are littering his husband's body; nothing too terrible from what he can see and that makes him exhale a relieved sigh.
Though he upturns again, eyes thoughtfully narrowed, brow wrinkled with contemplation. Finally, Sizhui dares to ask, “Are you trying to frighten me? And if so, why? It will take much more than this to run me off.”
His mouth curves at the sound, a faint gesture of his own mirth, and although Sizhui's gaze flickers downward once Vincenzo begins undoing his tie, he urges himself to look away after he moves on to unbuttoning his shirt. Unsure why he needs an extra moment to steel his nerves, he finds a brief distraction in taking one of Vincenzo's hands and wiping away all the grime there, then downcasts his gaze to examine what marks are littering his husband's body; nothing too terrible from what he can see and that makes him exhale a relieved sigh.
Though he upturns again, eyes thoughtfully narrowed, brow wrinkled with contemplation. Finally, Sizhui dares to ask, “Are you trying to frighten me? And if so, why? It will take much more than this to run me off.”
"I am trying to warn you of what sort of things you would see when you marry someone like me. There are many expectations of you in this position."
Vincenzo caresses along his hand, letting his own move over the slim digits. How could he lay out all that is expected for the position and expected of Sizhui as the wife of the head? From what Luca had told him, the Lan had many rules and expectations as well, being one of the very few families whose gentry survived through the years. He presses his lips together and gives a soft sigh. Luca would not have arranged this if he didn't think Sizhui was capable of fulfilling the role.
"I want you to be sure that you are aware of what it all means. That isn't simply a charmed life."
“I understand... and appreciate it.” And for some reason, he's still stubbornly deciding to stay despite this revelation. “These are expectations I can learn, yes?”
Sizhui's turn to hesitate when that hand moves over his, making him clench tighter on the rag, his teeth sinking into the side of his cheek. It's true, the Lan have thousands upon thousands of their own rules, some that briefly dart through his mind while considering his current position knelt beside Vincenzo, all of which he pushes aside in favor of continuing to fuss. He may not be familiar with what comes in this position, but the actuality that he agreed, the fact he's not running— it has to count for something, even if he's more than capable once given the chance.
“Admittedly, I've never expected a charmed life.” Another rule he can recall even says they shouldn't accept such things, and yet he can't help making a joke as his hand lowers so his fingertips can carefully press against some bruises discoloring Vincenzo's shoulder. “Perhaps a semi-charmed one wouldn't be so bad, though.”
Sizhui's turn to hesitate when that hand moves over his, making him clench tighter on the rag, his teeth sinking into the side of his cheek. It's true, the Lan have thousands upon thousands of their own rules, some that briefly dart through his mind while considering his current position knelt beside Vincenzo, all of which he pushes aside in favor of continuing to fuss. He may not be familiar with what comes in this position, but the actuality that he agreed, the fact he's not running— it has to count for something, even if he's more than capable once given the chance.
“Admittedly, I've never expected a charmed life.” Another rule he can recall even says they shouldn't accept such things, and yet he can't help making a joke as his hand lowers so his fingertips can carefully press against some bruises discoloring Vincenzo's shoulder. “Perhaps a semi-charmed one wouldn't be so bad, though.”
A huff. Of all people, he would be the last one to judge a person's character based on their appearances. He doesn't flinch at the touch to his bruises. Bruises fade with time, they heal. He'd known about the thousands of rules. Luca had made sure that Vincenzo was well informed of the Lan family. Sizhui is not as soft as he seems. Given the situation, he would also be able to defend himself. Vincenzo worries of whether or not he could stand firmly as the head of the household.
"You may be asked to keep secrets; witness horrible, terrible things; all while running the household while I run the family."
He cups his cheek and nudges his face up so he could look into those eyes.
"You would need to be firm, calm, even in the face of people who would want to hurt our family. Even if that person is me. But know that I will always be loyal to you; all of me."
See, Sizhui's normally soft and kindhearted, but he's learned when to steel himself, knows how he should act during particular moments where more firmness is needed. Sort of like insisting he helps Vincenzo with his injuries, despite the man's protesting. (And won't it also be interesting to learn he can at least defend himself in an actual physical fight too?) Bruises are... well, thankfully just those, so he moves on from them, sets the towels aside for now then gestures toward Vincenzo's shirt. “Take that off,” comes simply as Sizhui removes the robe he's wearing. With most of the mess having been cleaned, his silky nightgown ought to be safe.
He clutches the fluffy garment afterward, listening intently, distress clear in his expression, although he's trying his best to keep calm now, ironically. Having Vincenzo caress his face again while initiating direct eye-contact makes his eyes widen and causes butterflies to flutter in his stomach, yet it also has him softening, one hand reaching to brush his fingertips across Vincenzo's knuckles as he leans into his touch.
Though he doesn't quite understand why Vincenzo would hurt his own family, Sizhui resists asking, just slides his hand to hold his husband's forearm and nods again. “As I will be loyal to you.” That was part of their union, wasn't it? Any sheepishness put aside, he lifts his opposite arm then stretches it out, the pad of his thumb gently brushing Vincenzo's cheek. “Explain to me how the household must be run and I'll do my absolute best.” Since he's already shown how (mostly) cool and collected he can be during distressing situations.
He clutches the fluffy garment afterward, listening intently, distress clear in his expression, although he's trying his best to keep calm now, ironically. Having Vincenzo caress his face again while initiating direct eye-contact makes his eyes widen and causes butterflies to flutter in his stomach, yet it also has him softening, one hand reaching to brush his fingertips across Vincenzo's knuckles as he leans into his touch.
Though he doesn't quite understand why Vincenzo would hurt his own family, Sizhui resists asking, just slides his hand to hold his husband's forearm and nods again. “As I will be loyal to you.” That was part of their union, wasn't it? Any sheepishness put aside, he lifts his opposite arm then stretches it out, the pad of his thumb gently brushing Vincenzo's cheek. “Explain to me how the household must be run and I'll do my absolute best.” Since he's already shown how (mostly) cool and collected he can be during distressing situations.
He really did go through with being a bride, didn't he? Vincenzo watches as he casts the fluffy robe aside to reveal a white nightgown beneath. It's simple; beautiful in its own flowing way. Something warms and loosens in his chest when Sizhui gently caresses his hand and his forearm in return, swearing his own loyalty. The gentle touch to his cheek is kind, soft in a way that his life isn't.
Vincenzo reaches up to undo the rest of the buttons of his shirt and pulls it off, leaving him bare from his waist up. He watches Sizhui the entire time, moving slow enough to not jostle the other as he moves. The blood stained shirt falls on the floor, joining his tie.
"There must be no surprises for you. Or for me. Everyone will be at your command. There will be things I ask for you to do and yuo will need to do them without a moment's hesitation. The house must be running in well working order without anything out of place or in chaos so that it can be your sanctuary, my sanctuary. But also the first thing that those that I deem worthy enough to come here, come under the protection of the Cassano family sees."
Safety in the fortress, the physical protection that the Cassano family can provide.
Of course he did! It'd been made explicitly clear that everything should go off without a hitch and, in their defense, it all had until the honeymoon. Maybe this wasn't what Sizhui had expected, it isn't entirely unwelcome either, given his current position; his fingertips caressing Vincenzo's arm, the comforting stroke across his cheek. Credit where it's due, something far worse could've happened— like becoming a widow shortly after just marrying? (That would have been horrific!)
He withdraws while Vincenzo finishes undressing, head tilting this way and that, giving the man a thorough once-over to make absolute certain he's not hurt elsewhere. From what he can tell, there's nothing that needs immediate attention, prompting another comforted sigh then Sizhui collects the robe, holding an end in one hand and tossing the other side over Vincenzo's shoulders.
A little more intimate, being so close to drape the cover around him, but it means they can continue softly conversing amongst themselves without any worry of someone eavesdropping. All of this sounds like a lot, yet he continues paying attention, noting each and every word Vincezo says, features creased with thought. So, alongside the marriage, there's protection in exchange for making sure the house runs smoothly and whatever else comes with that... it's not the worst thing here, being deemed worthy enough for the Cassano family's consideration, but he is somewhat questioning his abilities.For God's sake, Jim, he's a doctor!
Not that he lets his apprehension show for long. Sizhui's hands tug the robe's edges together, he pats Vincenzo's chest then smiles faintly and straightens again. “Does ‘everyone’ also include you?” Another joke, he can't help himself, humor helps lessen the worry about his racing heartbeat.
He withdraws while Vincenzo finishes undressing, head tilting this way and that, giving the man a thorough once-over to make absolute certain he's not hurt elsewhere. From what he can tell, there's nothing that needs immediate attention, prompting another comforted sigh then Sizhui collects the robe, holding an end in one hand and tossing the other side over Vincenzo's shoulders.
A little more intimate, being so close to drape the cover around him, but it means they can continue softly conversing amongst themselves without any worry of someone eavesdropping. All of this sounds like a lot, yet he continues paying attention, noting each and every word Vincezo says, features creased with thought. So, alongside the marriage, there's protection in exchange for making sure the house runs smoothly and whatever else comes with that... it's not the worst thing here, being deemed worthy enough for the Cassano family's consideration, but he is somewhat questioning his abilities.
Not that he lets his apprehension show for long. Sizhui's hands tug the robe's edges together, he pats Vincenzo's chest then smiles faintly and straightens again. “Does ‘everyone’ also include you?” Another joke, he can't help himself, humor helps lessen the worry about his racing heartbeat.
"Depends on the request," he teases back.
It's strange how easy it is to tease him back like this. Sizhui is a handsome man. He would even go so far as to say he's beautiful. Vincenzo could see how dangerous Sizhui is; to fall in love with such a vision can easily compromise any hardened criminal. He is very aware that they are on their honeymoon in one of the most beautiful places in all of Italy. It's here that he could stay and pretend that the troubles of the real world were far. Only if Sizhui wants. And he wonders if he should look at the contract once more; perhaps allow Sizhui a sanctioned playmate, as it were, so that he wouldn't feel so lonely or unloved.
Sizhui's eyebrows arch with interest, that small smile widening into something more proper-like, even hinting on the edge of playful when he asks, “Really?” Because now he's considering what sort of requests he might be able to get away with.
Which has him lowering his gaze in an instant when his thoughts wander further than expected; the two of them here, together in Italy, all of this room they can use for whatever they like until either Vincenzo is called away again or they're both finally taken back into the real world where their new married lives begin. He props both hands onto the vanity, leans back on them, head tipped while he consideringly hums because there are many things he could ask at this moment, yet what comes out is something decent-sounding and so completely modest: “Will my husband come to bed with me?”
Which has him lowering his gaze in an instant when his thoughts wander further than expected; the two of them here, together in Italy, all of this room they can use for whatever they like until either Vincenzo is called away again or they're both finally taken back into the real world where their new married lives begin. He props both hands onto the vanity, leans back on them, head tipped while he consideringly hums because there are many things he could ask at this moment, yet what comes out is something decent-sounding and so completely modest: “Will my husband come to bed with me?”
"Yes."
The answer comes without hesitation. He knows he should carry Sizhui but his current state does not allow for him to do such a feat. He turns toward a hand and kisses the back of it softly. He had given his word to Sizhui's father that he would always be a gentleman to his son, that he will never be left wanting anything.
Yes, Vincenzo says, so free and easy it almost makes Sizhui's heart jackhammer again.
He huffs a soft, contented breath then turns the hand Vincenzo kisses, drifts his first two fingertips along the line of his nose and stops at the tip where he gently taps. Sure, his husband can't carry him across the threshold as is customary, but has anything really been traditional about this wedding so far? He doesn't mind at all, finds no effort whatsoever in moving again, taking Vincenzo's arm, hooking it around his shoulders and readying to lift him a second time. “Come, I'll help you.”
He huffs a soft, contented breath then turns the hand Vincenzo kisses, drifts his first two fingertips along the line of his nose and stops at the tip where he gently taps. Sure, his husband can't carry him across the threshold as is customary, but has anything really been traditional about this wedding so far? He doesn't mind at all, finds no effort whatsoever in moving again, taking Vincenzo's arm, hooking it around his shoulders and readying to lift him a second time. “Come, I'll help you.”
The touch is sweet and Vincenzo closes his eyes at the feel of his fingers along his nose. He can't help but chuckle a little.
"Aren't I supposed to carry you?" he asks.
All the same, Vincenzo leans on him as they move up and toward the bedroom.
"Let me at least shower to wash off all this," he says. "I can manage that."
Kindness is what Vincenzo deserves at the moment after everything else he's been through today (and technically yesterday). Besides, Sizhui likes that quiet laugh he gets in return alongside the remark about carrying him, rather than it being vice-versa.
“Ordinarily,” he confirms, “but taking your injuries into account, I think it's alright to say we carried each other for now.” And later, if they are feeling especially sentimental, they can continue tradition.
He nods, continuing to lead them along, into their bedroom and toward the bathroom.
Once inside there, Sizhui guides Vincenzo to the sink nearest the shower then – after making certain the other man can stand on his own – he finally lets him go. “I'm assuming you can take it from here?” Because if so, he will politely excuse himself and attempt to take off before his overactive thought process has him making less appropriate judgments.
“Ordinarily,” he confirms, “but taking your injuries into account, I think it's alright to say we carried each other for now.” And later, if they are feeling especially sentimental, they can continue tradition.
He nods, continuing to lead them along, into their bedroom and toward the bathroom.
Once inside there, Sizhui guides Vincenzo to the sink nearest the shower then – after making certain the other man can stand on his own – he finally lets him go. “I'm assuming you can take it from here?” Because if so, he will politely excuse himself and attempt to take off before his overactive thought process has him making less appropriate judgments.
"I may need some help," he admits.
Vincenzo easily shrugs the fluffy robe from around his shoulders, letting it pool around his feet. He watches Sizhui's expressions as he leans against the sink and allows him to take his fill of looking at him.
"I shouldn't be straining myself too much."
Ah... “Of course, it's no problem.” Or it usually isn't, given his profession, but Sizhui's feeling oddly shy around his new husband.
Checking him out while he's undressing again certainly doesn't help things. He watches the robe fall then averts his attention, moves to the shower and turns it on with one hand, the opposite hovering underneath the showerhead so he can test how hot, warm or cold it is.
“You shouldn't,” Sizhui assures, flicking some water off his fingers and upturning his gaze to meet Vincenzo's. “I'm unsure how warm you want it, so would you like to check the temperature? Though a little extra heat might help your bruises... if you can stand it.” And if not, that's fine as well, since he'd imagine their room has a first aid kit somewhere with a cold pack.
Checking him out while he's undressing again certainly doesn't help things. He watches the robe fall then averts his attention, moves to the shower and turns it on with one hand, the opposite hovering underneath the showerhead so he can test how hot, warm or cold it is.
“You shouldn't,” Sizhui assures, flicking some water off his fingers and upturning his gaze to meet Vincenzo's. “I'm unsure how warm you want it, so would you like to check the temperature? Though a little extra heat might help your bruises... if you can stand it.” And if not, that's fine as well, since he'd imagine their room has a first aid kit somewhere with a cold pack.
How sweet is he for being so shy. He shifts until he could curl around Sizhui and test the water himself.
"Seems hot enough," he says quietly. "Thank you for helping me."
He unbuttons and unzips his trousers, lowering it and his underpants without shame until he could shimmy and push it down over his hips and legs.
Feels more silly than sweet in his opinion, except Sizhui doesn't linger on that too long, given Vincenzo's leaning around him to test the water rather than reaching between them. His breath softly hitches at their second extra close moment, puffs out after Vincenzo withdraws again and he nods.
“You're welcome. It's the least I can do for you now, considering.” There will be far more important things to worry about from here on out.
Sizhui exhales another quiet sigh, reaches to collect the hem of his nightgown, gathering it up underneath his chest until he can hook its collar as well and begin sliding it off. Over his head first, followed by each arm then he moves to set it aside on the sink, leaving him standing in close-fitting shorts, attention somehow unwavering from Vincenzo. “Thankfully, there's a removable showerhead, which should make this a little easier.”
“You're welcome. It's the least I can do for you now, considering.” There will be far more important things to worry about from here on out.
Sizhui exhales another quiet sigh, reaches to collect the hem of his nightgown, gathering it up underneath his chest until he can hook its collar as well and begin sliding it off. Over his head first, followed by each arm then he moves to set it aside on the sink, leaving him standing in close-fitting shorts, attention somehow unwavering from Vincenzo. “Thankfully, there's a removable showerhead, which should make this a little easier.”
[while he did initiate the contact and help sizhui's hand, jin ling is not prepared for the consequences of his actions. of sizhui holding his hand.
they are holding hands.
holy shit.
sizhui is running his thumb over his skin and those are thoughts for not right now! focus, focus! there are uncles to be upset at here.] Omitting the details is important when it's their marriage. [like what does he call zewu-jun now?
no one dare point out that this would have been a problem if they'd set their uncles up either way. shhhh.] They could have just said something!
And--- [he's about to go off, to explain something or comment on something else when he stops and deflates. His shoulders slump and Jin Ling, who has been a sect leader for years and is now perhaps nearly the size of Hanguang-jun and should not be pouting like a child... well, he might be pouting.] They totally played us.
Sizhui they're married. [which means that they probably eloped, he thinks. there certainly was no wedding.] Nobody can ever give us grief about a wedding. [he huffs and then, a beat later, realizes what he's just said.] I mean---
they are holding hands.
holy shit.
sizhui is running his thumb over his skin and those are thoughts for not right now! focus, focus! there are uncles to be upset at here.] Omitting the details is important when it's their marriage. [like what does he call zewu-jun now?
no one dare point out that this would have been a problem if they'd set their uncles up either way. shhhh.] They could have just said something!
And--- [he's about to go off, to explain something or comment on something else when he stops and deflates. His shoulders slump and Jin Ling, who has been a sect leader for years and is now perhaps nearly the size of Hanguang-jun and should not be pouting like a child... well, he might be pouting.] They totally played us.
Sizhui they're married. [which means that they probably eloped, he thinks. there certainly was no wedding.] Nobody can ever give us grief about a wedding. [he huffs and then, a beat later, realizes what he's just said.] I mean---
"Perfecto," he replies easily.
Why not allow himself the luxury of having his new husband wash off the grime of the world? He almost wishes he could lean to whisper promises of a better wedding night tomorrow. That his duties wouldn't call him away the next day.
In spite of himself, Sizhui's lips quirk at the remark, although he's quick to lift a hand and cup it around his face in an attempt at hiding. While he's unsure why his instinct told him to, his other half insists he needn't fret about something as simple as a smile; it won't hurt them any, having some extra happiness.
He gestures for Vincenzo to step in first, offers the same hand afterward so he can hold it if needed then inquires, “Can you stand or would you prefer sitting?” The latter would technically be easier since then Sizhui could kneel down beside the tub, but if Vincenzo's alright with him maybe stripping down too, he's got no problem standing with him inside it, either.
He gestures for Vincenzo to step in first, offers the same hand afterward so he can hold it if needed then inquires, “Can you stand or would you prefer sitting?” The latter would technically be easier since then Sizhui could kneel down beside the tub, but if Vincenzo's alright with him maybe stripping down too, he's got no problem standing with him inside it, either.
[not only are they holding hands and yes, sizhui's also initiating more intent affection by tracing his thumb over jin ling's first knuckle now, but his other hand has lifted too, reached out and gently settled across his companion's forearm where he squeezes for reassurance.
truly, it has become an oh no, the consequences of my actions! moment and something he hopes offers actual assurance in this moment of realization.]
That's fair and valid, [sizhui admits, despite sounding like there's a ‘but’ coming that never does. if wanting to know what he should call zewu-jun now is something legitimate, he'll have no trouble explaining the intricacies, all the while realizing he's glad it doesn't interfere with what's going on between them.
and although sizhui knows he shouldn't encourage a sect leader pouting, it's hard not to be amused by the gesture, to fight his lips quirking with mirth no matter how hard he bites his tongue. so, rather than do so, he lets his mouth curve, releases jin ling's arm then reaches to cup his cheek, thumb brushing against the apple of it, his fingertips barely hooking just behind his ear and pressing near his neck.] You're right, they could have, but then what privacy would be left? Everyone would crowd them for congratulations and to give gifts and— [well, it sounds like the direct opposite of keeping things on the down-low.]
Mmhmm. [a hushed agreement through his momentary distracted state of holding jin ling's face, attention quickly redirecting from his lips to his eyes once the other male mentions their possible wedding.] Ah... [and sizhui's cheeks darken further, his head briefly inclines, except there isn't any arguing or denying what's been said.] Not yet, [comes in an equally quiet murmur.] But give it time, I am sure someone will find something to criticize.
truly, it has become an oh no, the consequences of my actions! moment and something he hopes offers actual assurance in this moment of realization.]
That's fair and valid, [sizhui admits, despite sounding like there's a ‘but’ coming that never does. if wanting to know what he should call zewu-jun now is something legitimate, he'll have no trouble explaining the intricacies, all the while realizing he's glad it doesn't interfere with what's going on between them.
and although sizhui knows he shouldn't encourage a sect leader pouting, it's hard not to be amused by the gesture, to fight his lips quirking with mirth no matter how hard he bites his tongue. so, rather than do so, he lets his mouth curve, releases jin ling's arm then reaches to cup his cheek, thumb brushing against the apple of it, his fingertips barely hooking just behind his ear and pressing near his neck.] You're right, they could have, but then what privacy would be left? Everyone would crowd them for congratulations and to give gifts and— [well, it sounds like the direct opposite of keeping things on the down-low.]
Mmhmm. [a hushed agreement through his momentary distracted state of holding jin ling's face, attention quickly redirecting from his lips to his eyes once the other male mentions their possible wedding.] Ah... [and sizhui's cheeks darken further, his head briefly inclines, except there isn't any arguing or denying what's been said.] Not yet, [comes in an equally quiet murmur.] But give it time, I am sure someone will find something to criticize.
[ Jiang Cheng is still preparing himself for marriage, to find a proper wife, to have heirs, to keep the future of his clan going. With no sister and no brother to have more nieces and nephews to lend to Yunmeng Jiang... The weight is all upon his own shoulders.
His hands are careful as he reaches for Sizhui, trying to take care of him without completely suffocating himself in the process. It's not a difficult thing to do, keeping his eyes down, not breathing in too much, not letting himself lose himself completely, because he doesn't have a choice. He is in a position of power, as a Sect Leader, as someone with a strong, well cultivated core, and to force his advances on someone...
That's something he cannot do. He has no intention of being another Jin.
A little bit of energy is all he needs to offer, all he needs to give, and then his hand can fall away. That's all he has to do, but it seems impossible for him - he wants to take care of him, he wants to make sure he's alright, he wants to do everything in his power to make Sizhui be alright. His knees are a little sore, some of his aches are stronger than others, and he hesitates for a moment before he reaches up to touch his neck.
He can feel the petals. He can feel the thorns. He can feel all of it, pressuring, pushing, making him feel sick and he turns his head away, lifting a hand to cover his mouth, his lips, to smother the blood before he can do anything to embarrass himself. He is in worse shape than the disciple now, surely, feeling weakened and bloody and broken, taken down and left bare and pained because of his own stupid emotions.
Leaning back, he hesitates, coughing out a handful of flowers and trying to throw them behind himself before they can be picked out, before they can be seen. ]
That is unnecessary. Aren't you supposed to do as you're told in Gusu?
His hands are careful as he reaches for Sizhui, trying to take care of him without completely suffocating himself in the process. It's not a difficult thing to do, keeping his eyes down, not breathing in too much, not letting himself lose himself completely, because he doesn't have a choice. He is in a position of power, as a Sect Leader, as someone with a strong, well cultivated core, and to force his advances on someone...
That's something he cannot do. He has no intention of being another Jin.
A little bit of energy is all he needs to offer, all he needs to give, and then his hand can fall away. That's all he has to do, but it seems impossible for him - he wants to take care of him, he wants to make sure he's alright, he wants to do everything in his power to make Sizhui be alright. His knees are a little sore, some of his aches are stronger than others, and he hesitates for a moment before he reaches up to touch his neck.
He can feel the petals. He can feel the thorns. He can feel all of it, pressuring, pushing, making him feel sick and he turns his head away, lifting a hand to cover his mouth, his lips, to smother the blood before he can do anything to embarrass himself. He is in worse shape than the disciple now, surely, feeling weakened and bloody and broken, taken down and left bare and pained because of his own stupid emotions.
Leaning back, he hesitates, coughing out a handful of flowers and trying to throw them behind himself before they can be picked out, before they can be seen. ]
That is unnecessary. Aren't you supposed to do as you're told in Gusu?
[all things sizhui's unsure he could give jiang cheng and more reasons for him doubt his feelings despite knowing otherwise; adopting is always an option – just look at him, after all! – and perhaps he can't exactly be the wife jiang cheng's looking for, they could marry and he'd be a partner, someone ready and willing to be there for him whenever needed.
(but only with feelings being reciprocated, never forced on anyone!)
while he hasn't realized yet, his breath catches once jiang cheng reaches out for him, eyebrows arching in a mixture of apprehension and fleeting interest, though sizhui softens after the distance between them lessens further then he loosens his vice-like grip on both the mortar and pestle. here come those petals again, fluttering up his throat, some coating his tongue, which he's able to somewhat swallow back down following his momentarily distressed expression.
at least he looks mostly normal before the other man might look, tight-lipped and steady, if not a bit overly stiff. oh no, does that make him look uncomfortable? not that it or anything else matters once jiang cheng reaches toward his neck. immediately, sizhui sets his tools aside, stalling long enough for jiang cheng's fingers to cup his mouth, for him to lean back, those same digits to curl into themselves after a cough and then move away in an attempt to deposit something behind himself.] Ordinarily, [he answers, calm and collected, tamping down the worry threatening to creep into his voice.] But we're currently not in Gusu, are we?
[precisely why he has no problem breaking just the tiniest rule of going against his senior. and a sect leader, furthermore? what would others think?! it's disregarded though so he can instead reach out, catch jiang cheng's sleeve and tug that same hand back around he'd used to throw flower petals with.] We are also taught not to lie in Gusu. [yes, he knows what he'd said just moments ago, but after the remark, his empty hand lifts, palm upturned, and he huffs a sigh which expels a small purple lotus petal.
—okay, that's a bit odder now that it's done, he tries ignoring any awkwardness by rolling the blossom in his hand, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger then letting it drift into jiang cheng's palm.] ...there are some rules I don't break, regardless.
[telling the truth is one of those.]
(but only with feelings being reciprocated, never forced on anyone!)
while he hasn't realized yet, his breath catches once jiang cheng reaches out for him, eyebrows arching in a mixture of apprehension and fleeting interest, though sizhui softens after the distance between them lessens further then he loosens his vice-like grip on both the mortar and pestle. here come those petals again, fluttering up his throat, some coating his tongue, which he's able to somewhat swallow back down following his momentarily distressed expression.
at least he looks mostly normal before the other man might look, tight-lipped and steady, if not a bit overly stiff. oh no, does that make him look uncomfortable? not that it or anything else matters once jiang cheng reaches toward his neck. immediately, sizhui sets his tools aside, stalling long enough for jiang cheng's fingers to cup his mouth, for him to lean back, those same digits to curl into themselves after a cough and then move away in an attempt to deposit something behind himself.] Ordinarily, [he answers, calm and collected, tamping down the worry threatening to creep into his voice.] But we're currently not in Gusu, are we?
[precisely why he has no problem breaking just the tiniest rule of going against his senior. and a sect leader, furthermore? what would others think?! it's disregarded though so he can instead reach out, catch jiang cheng's sleeve and tug that same hand back around he'd used to throw flower petals with.] We are also taught not to lie in Gusu. [yes, he knows what he'd said just moments ago, but after the remark, his empty hand lifts, palm upturned, and he huffs a sigh which expels a small purple lotus petal.
—okay, that's a bit odder now that it's done, he tries ignoring any awkwardness by rolling the blossom in his hand, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger then letting it drift into jiang cheng's palm.] ...there are some rules I don't break, regardless.
[telling the truth is one of those.]
Which they will eventually any--- anyway. [a whole plethora of different things is happening all at once and jin ling isn't sure where to go with it. sure, he's not the same hot-headed teenager with no friends that spent the months following his da-jiu's resurrection with sizhui.
but this is still jin ling.
he knows he's more his jiu-jiu than anyone, even if it is very mature of him to now think of wei wuxian as his da-jiu. he thinks. right?
he's still blushing and hoping that if he just tries to get his face to do something respectable, sizhui won't feel it under his palm. also, how is it possible that the other's hands are still calloused but soft? that's not fair. really. who allowed that?
jin ling is going to explode or die. maybe both. not in a good way.] Right. Not right now... [he finds his voice, still kinda focused on sizhui's hand on his face. it's so intimate, so close. even if it's totally within their write to be way more intimate than this.] They better not criticize. [and then there's his normal steady tone, a bit of his uncle's threatening edge to it. No one better have anything to say about this, not when the thought of marrying sizhui makes jin ling so happy in a way that twists him in inside.]
but this is still jin ling.
he knows he's more his jiu-jiu than anyone, even if it is very mature of him to now think of wei wuxian as his da-jiu. he thinks. right?
he's still blushing and hoping that if he just tries to get his face to do something respectable, sizhui won't feel it under his palm. also, how is it possible that the other's hands are still calloused but soft? that's not fair. really. who allowed that?
jin ling is going to explode or die. maybe both. not in a good way.] Right. Not right now... [he finds his voice, still kinda focused on sizhui's hand on his face. it's so intimate, so close. even if it's totally within their write to be way more intimate than this.] They better not criticize. [and then there's his normal steady tone, a bit of his uncle's threatening edge to it. No one better have anything to say about this, not when the thought of marrying sizhui makes jin ling so happy in a way that twists him in inside.]
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