Of course I'll stay. [ it was never in question; even on a normal night hua cheng is rarely inclined to get out of bed if xie lian is asleep, and tonight even less so. ] I'll be right here when you wake, gege.
[ hua cheng cups xie lian's face and gently thumbs over his cheekbone, then says, ] Let me undress you a bit for bed, all right?
[ A sad laugh hiccups free and he nods as he kisses Hua Cheng on the cheek just because he can, his husband isn't disgusted or angry. It's alright after all, even if Xie Lian is still too nervous to entirely believe it. In his long skirt and cardigan, arms entirely covered up too, he looks like nothing so much as a red-cheeked cloud as he wipes his eyes. ]
[ hua cheng's heart breaks. the clothes were close to what xie lian wears on the daily anyway, and so it hadn't even occurred to hua cheng to think that xie lian might have covered up out of fear of hua cheng's disgust. he can hardly stand the notion of it, that something like this might be enough to stop him loving and desiring his husband.
gently, carefully, hua cheng eases the cardigan over xie lian's shoulders and sets it at the foot of the bed. he lets his fingertips trail along xie lian's shoulders, his arms, touching every inch that he can reach as if to prove that he still wants to. the skirt comes next, fingers hooked in its waist to ease it down over xie lian's hips, but when xie lian is down to his long-sleeved shirt and underwear, hua cheng pauses to cup his face again. ]
Would you sleep in something of mine instead?
[ he doesn't want to make demands of xie lian, when he's already feeling fragile, but hua cheng would like to see xie lian in his clothes and he thinks it might help xie lian feel more secure, too, to be surrounded by his husband's familiar scent and color. ]
[ Peeled out of the majority of his clothing, he pulls off the long-sleeved top and rubs his arms as he kneels on the bed in the only underwear that looked comfortable at a panicked glance, a silky pair of white shorts that ride his hips. He kisses the palms that cup his face, holding one as he nuzzles the other, still incredibly grateful to not be getting pushed away as his experience insisted he would be. ]
A few days ago I fought with Feng Xin. I almost didn't want to see you in case you also couldn't stand me, I feel like my luck has been extra bad lately.
[ xie lian's agreement earns a genuine smile from hua cheng, and he presses a brief, soft kiss to xie lian's lips before pulling away to fetch one of his t-shirts. it'll be oversized on xie lian, but it's soft and well-worn and smells like joss sticks and incense smoke, like hua cheng. he holds it to help xie lian into it, then moves to tug back the blankets so they can curl up in bed. ]
I didn't know you'd fought with Nan Yang. [ his brow furrows a little at that, sympathetic. ] Your luck could never be so bad as to push me away, gege. You know I have very good luck, it should be enough to balance.
[ he stretches out in bed, then opens his arms so xie lian can come curl up in them. ]
[ Dressing in the tshirt, he crawls into Hua Cheng's arms and tangles their legs together, an arm around him as another curls in long black hair. His cheek rests on a shoulder, kisses dropping over where a pulse should be in a neck. ]
Your special songs?
[ The ones he doesn't understand but which comfort him immensely, some single sliver of a remnant of Hua Cheng's past that Xie Lian cherishes. ]
[ eight hundred years and the shape of his mother's face is little more than a blur in hua cheng's memory. he can no longer recall much of his family, and only the scantest details of the life he led before he fell from the palace wall that day—but he remembers his mother's language, and he remembers the lullabies she used to sing to him.
it's one of those that he sings now, his voice low and soft and lilting, coaxing xie lian to sleep. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ hua cheng cups xie lian's face and gently thumbs over his cheekbone, then says, ] Let me undress you a bit for bed, all right?
no subject
I didn't think you would want to t-touch me.
[ He was preparing for it, evidently. ]
no subject
[ hua cheng's heart breaks. the clothes were close to what xie lian wears on the daily anyway, and so it hadn't even occurred to hua cheng to think that xie lian might have covered up out of fear of hua cheng's disgust. he can hardly stand the notion of it, that something like this might be enough to stop him loving and desiring his husband.
gently, carefully, hua cheng eases the cardigan over xie lian's shoulders and sets it at the foot of the bed. he lets his fingertips trail along xie lian's shoulders, his arms, touching every inch that he can reach as if to prove that he still wants to. the skirt comes next, fingers hooked in its waist to ease it down over xie lian's hips, but when xie lian is down to his long-sleeved shirt and underwear, hua cheng pauses to cup his face again. ]
Would you sleep in something of mine instead?
[ he doesn't want to make demands of xie lian, when he's already feeling fragile, but hua cheng would like to see xie lian in his clothes and he thinks it might help xie lian feel more secure, too, to be surrounded by his husband's familiar scent and color. ]
no subject
[ Peeled out of the majority of his clothing, he pulls off the long-sleeved top and rubs his arms as he kneels on the bed in the only underwear that looked comfortable at a panicked glance, a silky pair of white shorts that ride his hips. He kisses the palms that cup his face, holding one as he nuzzles the other, still incredibly grateful to not be getting pushed away as his experience insisted he would be. ]
A few days ago I fought with Feng Xin. I almost didn't want to see you in case you also couldn't stand me, I feel like my luck has been extra bad lately.
no subject
I didn't know you'd fought with Nan Yang. [ his brow furrows a little at that, sympathetic. ] Your luck could never be so bad as to push me away, gege. You know I have very good luck, it should be enough to balance.
[ he stretches out in bed, then opens his arms so xie lian can come curl up in them. ]
Come rest. I'll sing to you.
no subject
Your special songs?
[ The ones he doesn't understand but which comfort him immensely, some single sliver of a remnant of Hua Cheng's past that Xie Lian cherishes. ]
no subject
[ eight hundred years and the shape of his mother's face is little more than a blur in hua cheng's memory. he can no longer recall much of his family, and only the scantest details of the life he led before he fell from the palace wall that day—but he remembers his mother's language, and he remembers the lullabies she used to sing to him.
it's one of those that he sings now, his voice low and soft and lilting, coaxing xie lian to sleep. ]