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 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.
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?”
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.”
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
His own expression pinches at the distressed-sounding noise, the hand he's already got lifted reaching out toward Vincenzo, though coming up short after his remark.
A blink then another, Sizhui absently tilts his head and can't help grinning again as his own playful retort comes, “See what, skin? How scandalous,” he teases, dismissively waving his hand at even the thought of something so ridiculous. “Truly, I do not mind helping, but if you insist...” Well, he can't very well argue forever.
He can't help but give a soft huff of amusement at how easily Sizhui
brushes off what he might see. So Sizhui may be stronger than he looks.
Vincenzo reaches up to take his chin in a soft grip, analyzing his bride.
"I insist," he says quietly, "I'd rather you see it when the reason isn't
because I may not be able to bathe myself."
That sound is something far better; comforting, reassuring, it makes Sizhui faintly smile wider even if he's instantly softening when Vincenzo takes hold of his chin. He arches his eyebrows and tilts his head, holding eye-contact while lifting a hand to brush his fingertips against Vincenzo's wrist.
“Okay,” comes in quiet acceptance, although color rises high on his cheeks following the other remark. “Perhaps later then, but I will wait outside nearby in case you need anything.”
“Of course,” Sizhui agrees, giving the faintest head-bob of his own before doing a neat heel-turn toward the door. “I think that would be a terrific idea as well.” Perhaps alcohol might loosen Vincenzo's lips enough that he explains what happened while he was gone; it's not prying if something accidentally slips out, right? Whoops!
After collecting clean clothes and leaving them outside the door for his husband, he pads back downstairs, gathers three wineglasses and two bottles (one red wine and the other white), fills two glasses with white and the remaining with red so Vincenzo can choose whatever he prefers. He, however, picks up a lighter-colored glass then settles into a seat beside the bar, waiting patiently, sipping real slow-like despite half-frazzled nerves telling him to do otherwise.
Not likely that he would ever let important information slip from him. But
it's sweet that Sizhui might think so. Vincenzo finishes his shower and
keeps his grunts to himself as gingerly pulls on the expensive silk pajama
pants. How sweet of Sizhui to leave them for him. Every thing a
donna could be. Or at least the beginnings of a proper donna.
He watches as Sizhui settles beside the bar, the moonlight and starlight
catching him so handsomely. He walks up to the bar and takes the glass of
red, swirling it a little.
"You truly believe you would be able to handle being la donna di
casa for the Famiglia di Cassano?" he asks, looking at his bride over
the rim of his wine glass. "I could send you back to your family's home,
where it's safe. And you would only be my wife by name."
Hey, a guy can dream, can't he? And let's be honest, is it really so bad that Sizhui might want Vincenzo to feel like he's trustworthy? Certainly not! Just like how he'd be pleased to know Vincenzo appreciates him courteously leaving pajamas for after his shower; it's the least he can do for his husband, considering the busy day they'd both had yesterday and whatever else the other man got up to while Sizhui's been sleeping.
By the time Vincenzo's come downstairs, he's finished his first half-glass and has started on a second, though is drinking slower this time, well-aware it wouldn't take much for him to become quite buzzed. Sizhui's attention directs his way, a small smile lifts his lips then he downcasts back to his own beverage.
His brow furrows, he wrinkles his nose, opens his mouth and hesitates, considering. He doesn't know for sure if he can handle it, as it's something he's never experienced before, but he does certainly know: “Truthfully, I'm inexperienced.” Ever-so-slightly, his neck cranes toward Vincenzo, those large eyes meet him over the wineglass and he sighs. “But that doesn't mean I can't try my absolute best to help you and that's what I'd like to do.”
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houseofsushi2020-05-22 10:34 pm
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"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.
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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?”
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"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.
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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.”
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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."
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“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.
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"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."
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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.
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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.
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“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.”
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"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.
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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.
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He steps into the shower and leans against the tiled wall, hissing a little at how cold it is.
"I can wash myself, Sizhui," he gently tells him. "I wouldn't want you to see what lies beneath the dirt and grime on me."
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A blink then another, Sizhui absently tilts his head and can't help grinning again as his own playful retort comes, “See what, skin? How scandalous,” he teases, dismissively waving his hand at even the thought of something so ridiculous. “Truly, I do not mind helping, but if you insist...” Well, he can't very well argue forever.
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He can't help but give a soft huff of amusement at how easily Sizhui brushes off what he might see. So Sizhui may be stronger than he looks. Vincenzo reaches up to take his chin in a soft grip, analyzing his bride.
"I insist," he says quietly, "I'd rather you see it when the reason isn't because I may not be able to bathe myself."
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“Okay,” comes in quiet acceptance, although color rises high on his cheeks following the other remark. “Perhaps later then, but I will wait outside nearby in case you need anything.”
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"Could you pour me a wine as well?" he asks.
He nods, making his decision.
"I want to know you better."
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After collecting clean clothes and leaving them outside the door for his husband, he pads back downstairs, gathers three wineglasses and two bottles (one red wine and the other white), fills two glasses with white and the remaining with red so Vincenzo can choose whatever he prefers. He, however, picks up a lighter-colored glass then settles into a seat beside the bar, waiting patiently, sipping real slow-like despite half-frazzled nerves telling him to do otherwise.
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Not likely that he would ever let important information slip from him. But it's sweet that Sizhui might think so. Vincenzo finishes his shower and keeps his grunts to himself as gingerly pulls on the expensive silk pajama pants. How sweet of Sizhui to leave them for him. Every thing a donna could be. Or at least the beginnings of a proper donna. He watches as Sizhui settles beside the bar, the moonlight and starlight catching him so handsomely. He walks up to the bar and takes the glass of red, swirling it a little.
"You truly believe you would be able to handle being la donna di casa for the Famiglia di Cassano?" he asks, looking at his bride over the rim of his wine glass. "I could send you back to your family's home, where it's safe. And you would only be my wife by name."
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By the time Vincenzo's come downstairs, he's finished his first half-glass and has started on a second, though is drinking slower this time, well-aware it wouldn't take much for him to become quite buzzed. Sizhui's attention directs his way, a small smile lifts his lips then he downcasts back to his own beverage.
His brow furrows, he wrinkles his nose, opens his mouth and hesitates, considering. He doesn't know for sure if he can handle it, as it's something he's never experienced before, but he does certainly know: “Truthfully, I'm inexperienced.” Ever-so-slightly, his neck cranes toward Vincenzo, those large eyes meet him over the wineglass and he sighs. “But that doesn't mean I can't try my absolute best to help you and that's what I'd like to do.”