[It's calm breathing that he tries. Calm breaths and the memory of Xingchen's disgust at his existence, which is enough to help him think past his lust. He has to make every moment count, doesn't he?
So he sprints a few step and reaches out to grab Xingchen's wrist, his thumb drawing a gentle circle there, while he looks at Xingchen's face without hesitation. Always beautiful to him.]
Let me help with your hair, daozhang. You are too clumsy to do it yourself.
[If he teases, does it hode how he is just eager to touch? Maybe not, but who cares? They both know.]
[The last thing they probably need right now is to keep touching each other, no matter how innocently, but Xingchen allows his friend to come right back. He doesn't waste his breath on arguing against clumsiness, but he does silently acknowledge, as he so often has, that his friend does his hair better than he himself can do these days, no matter how much practice he's had.
He feels that gaze on him, though, and now that he's practically naked without the cloth, he can't help but be self-conscious, even if his friend won't say anything. So he bows his head further, feeling his hair fall and veil the sides of his head. But as he waits, he holds the cloth in one hand, rubbing the fabric gently between his thumb and fingers. He must be patient.]
Did you not sleep well?
[His own voice is quiet after these moments of disuse, but Xingchen both knows they need to move on from their pre-dawn weaknesses and is concerned why his friend was up so early. It could be nothing. He hopes it was just a fluke, but he wants to know.]
[The initial sound isn't much of an answer, his focus instead on Xingchen's hair, his fingers deftly moving through the silken strands, bringing them into order. The scent that is uniquely Xingchen's, warm and alive and - to him - so sweet makes it hard to think of anything else. Just the moment and touching him.]
Just did not sleep much.
[It is said dismissively, as he can hardly explain to Xingchen that he kept waking when the body near him was warm and alive and not a corpse. That he had to watch him breathe, watch his face, dread the loss and savour every moment, until finally the urge to mark him became too strong.]
Your beauty kept me awake, daozhang. You should be ashamed. What can I do but lose my mind over you? Are you sure you are a daozhang and not a fox spirit?
[As soon as those hands are in his hair, Xingchen feels himself relax. He's still worked up from their tussling, of course, but that need doesn't itch as immediately right now. He leans into the touch, relishing the innocence of it, trusting his friend will make him presentable. Besides, it just feels good. If he still had his eyes, he would have closed them by now. If he were a cat, he'd be purring.
But he is just him and while his friend is obviously avoiding the answer, he doesn't press, just as he's never asked for his name, though Xingchen is so curious as to what it could be. Either way, if his friend isn't comfortable sharing, then Xingchen has no right to pressure him. So he doesn't.
Instead, he gets more teasing, though Xingchen can't help but let his lips quirk up in a small smile. He can't possibly be as beautiful as his friend insists. He's just teasing him, as always, but Xingchen falls into his words and continues falling into his hands. Maybe it's all an exaggeration, but it feels so good to be wanted, even a little bit. Giving himself into the moment, he imagines moving closer, tilting his head just so, and kissing his friend. Thanking him, not just for the indulgent words, but for his help on so many days to look and feel human. Thanking him for his kindness and his loyal companionship.
It's absurd, he knows, which is why he doesn't act on it. He's just had to practically throw his friend off of him before they got themselves into trouble. If he gave in now, Xingchen can't say he'd be able to do it a second time.]
Do not trouble yourself. I'm not clever enough to be a fox.
Eh. No one can tell me there aren't some dumb fox spirits around. There's so many dumb people, why would spirits be any better?
[The way he sees the world, there isn't much deference - not to spirits, not to anything. Not that he thinks his Xingchen a spirit. His daozhang. Not clever, too naive, too assured of being righteous, and most definitely too pretty.
It's a quiet moment then, just them between some gentle teasing, his fingers in Xingchen's hair, tying it, careful to make sure nothing is tangled. It would not take much to lean in and kiss him. His lips, his cheeks, his eyes. They don't disgust him, nothing about Xingchen does, not the way it did before, when Xingchen was a concept instead of a person.
The moment feels like nothing special, so reminiscent of many before, but he wishes he could stop time. Soon it will be nothing but memory and he has lived long enough, doing nothing but reminisce, to feel that memories are worthless, other than to draw pain out.
Life really is cruel at its core. Is it any wonder that he is even more cruel? Isn't it the only natural response to it all?]
Make sure only I get to see you like this, daozhang. Since I care for you best, I have more of a right, don't I? Don't forget that.
[The teasing lilt to his voice may make the words harmless enough, even as his heart hammers in his chest. Doesn't he have a right, if he wants most of all?]
Even if that's true, you shouldn't be so careless with your words. I would not want you to anger a spirit, no matter how clever they may or may not be.
[He knows his friend has a sharp tongue; he's heard the conversations held with A-Qing countless times. But just because his friend tends to be irreverent doesn't mean he shouldn't still be careful when it matters. Maybe one day it will make sense to him, hopefully before it gets him in trouble.
For now, he just lets his friend work and breathes out a little laugh at his request. Who else does Xingchen have that he trusts enough to be so vulnerable with? Yes, he is kind to others and tends to be in their good graces, but he wouldn't dare be so...so naked like this with them. They're not his friend.
He lifts a hand, tentatively seeking out his friend's face. Fingers bump against his face, then he cups his cheek, letting his thumb rub over the skin for a moment. He moves upward after that, giving him a few pats on the top of his head.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
So he sprints a few step and reaches out to grab Xingchen's wrist, his thumb drawing a gentle circle there, while he looks at Xingchen's face without hesitation. Always beautiful to him.]
Let me help with your hair, daozhang. You are too clumsy to do it yourself.
[If he teases, does it hode how he is just eager to touch? Maybe not, but who cares? They both know.]
no subject
He feels that gaze on him, though, and now that he's practically naked without the cloth, he can't help but be self-conscious, even if his friend won't say anything. So he bows his head further, feeling his hair fall and veil the sides of his head. But as he waits, he holds the cloth in one hand, rubbing the fabric gently between his thumb and fingers. He must be patient.]
Did you not sleep well?
[His own voice is quiet after these moments of disuse, but Xingchen both knows they need to move on from their pre-dawn weaknesses and is concerned why his friend was up so early. It could be nothing. He hopes it was just a fluke, but he wants to know.]
no subject
[The initial sound isn't much of an answer, his focus instead on Xingchen's hair, his fingers deftly moving through the silken strands, bringing them into order. The scent that is uniquely Xingchen's, warm and alive and - to him - so sweet makes it hard to think of anything else. Just the moment and touching him.]
Just did not sleep much.
[It is said dismissively, as he can hardly explain to Xingchen that he kept waking when the body near him was warm and alive and not a corpse. That he had to watch him breathe, watch his face, dread the loss and savour every moment, until finally the urge to mark him became too strong.]
Your beauty kept me awake, daozhang. You should be ashamed. What can I do but lose my mind over you? Are you sure you are a daozhang and not a fox spirit?
no subject
But he is just him and while his friend is obviously avoiding the answer, he doesn't press, just as he's never asked for his name, though Xingchen is so curious as to what it could be. Either way, if his friend isn't comfortable sharing, then Xingchen has no right to pressure him. So he doesn't.
Instead, he gets more teasing, though Xingchen can't help but let his lips quirk up in a small smile. He can't possibly be as beautiful as his friend insists. He's just teasing him, as always, but Xingchen falls into his words and continues falling into his hands. Maybe it's all an exaggeration, but it feels so good to be wanted, even a little bit. Giving himself into the moment, he imagines moving closer, tilting his head just so, and kissing his friend. Thanking him, not just for the indulgent words, but for his help on so many days to look and feel human. Thanking him for his kindness and his loyal companionship.
It's absurd, he knows, which is why he doesn't act on it. He's just had to practically throw his friend off of him before they got themselves into trouble. If he gave in now, Xingchen can't say he'd be able to do it a second time.]
Do not trouble yourself. I'm not clever enough to be a fox.
no subject
[The way he sees the world, there isn't much deference - not to spirits, not to anything. Not that he thinks his Xingchen a spirit. His daozhang. Not clever, too naive, too assured of being righteous, and most definitely too pretty.
It's a quiet moment then, just them between some gentle teasing, his fingers in Xingchen's hair, tying it, careful to make sure nothing is tangled. It would not take much to lean in and kiss him. His lips, his cheeks, his eyes. They don't disgust him, nothing about Xingchen does, not the way it did before, when Xingchen was a concept instead of a person.
The moment feels like nothing special, so reminiscent of many before, but he wishes he could stop time. Soon it will be nothing but memory and he has lived long enough, doing nothing but reminisce, to feel that memories are worthless, other than to draw pain out.
Life really is cruel at its core. Is it any wonder that he is even more cruel? Isn't it the only natural response to it all?]
Make sure only I get to see you like this, daozhang. Since I care for you best, I have more of a right, don't I? Don't forget that.
[The teasing lilt to his voice may make the words harmless enough, even as his heart hammers in his chest. Doesn't he have a right, if he wants most of all?]
no subject
[He knows his friend has a sharp tongue; he's heard the conversations held with A-Qing countless times. But just because his friend tends to be irreverent doesn't mean he shouldn't still be careful when it matters. Maybe one day it will make sense to him, hopefully before it gets him in trouble.
For now, he just lets his friend work and breathes out a little laugh at his request. Who else does Xingchen have that he trusts enough to be so vulnerable with? Yes, he is kind to others and tends to be in their good graces, but he wouldn't dare be so...so naked like this with them. They're not his friend.
He lifts a hand, tentatively seeking out his friend's face. Fingers bump against his face, then he cups his cheek, letting his thumb rub over the skin for a moment. He moves upward after that, giving him a few pats on the top of his head.]
...Thank you.