Harrowhark the Ninth (
we_bring_hell) wrote2020-10-27 10:55 am
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This is Halloween!
The Bar loves her holidays, but she is also capable of respecting religious strictures. That's why she put a lot of thought into finding a Halloween costume for Harrow that works with her face paint and general insistence on the monochromatic.
Harrow, for her part, is baffled by the white-pinstriped black suit and the oversized bow, but the gloves are very cool, and the buckled shoes suit as well. She has no idea what's going on but she can live with this.
The Bar seems even more unusually populated than usual, and there are a lot of gourds around. Hm.
Harrow, for her part, is baffled by the white-pinstriped black suit and the oversized bow, but the gloves are very cool, and the buckled shoes suit as well. She has no idea what's going on but she can live with this.
The Bar seems even more unusually populated than usual, and there are a lot of gourds around. Hm.
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Once they reach the upper hallway, out of the common areas, the magic that Bar-guniang had imposed on them fades. Both sets of wings dissipate as they approach their room, and their clothing shifts back into their accustomed attire.
Lan Wangji will not admit it, but he is a little relieved.
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Sensing their presence, the locking talisman activates in a shimmer of energy; the door clicks open to allow them inside. Wei Wuxian mumbles something faint and incomprehensible, winding his arms more snugly around Lan Zhan's neck.
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He carries Wei Ying across the room and lowers him, gently, until he is sitting on the edge of the bed. Lan Wangji kneels down in front of him, holding both his hands.
"Do you want a bath?" he asks.
He is fairly certain that Wei Ying cannot manage the shower that the bathing room offers.
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Does he want a bath? It's a good question.
"I think so," he says eventually. "Should I?"
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He frees a hand and brushes it over Wei Ying's hair, then alternately coaxes and helps him to lean back against the headboard.
Once he is sure that Wei Ying is not going to pitch over in the next few minutes, he goes to the bathing room and draws the bathtub full. While it is filling, he lays out clean clothes for him and locates the camellia oil for his hair, along with his own comb. When all is ready, he returns to Wei Ying.
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Maybe Lan Zhan was right earlier. Wei Wuxian should tell him, just to be certain.
"Lan Zhan, I think you're right," he says. "I'm much too drunk."
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He puts an arm around him and helps him to his feet.
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He wobbles upright; gingerly puts his feet where Lan Zhan directs as they shuffle toward the washroom.
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Very much so, if the deep fondness in his tone is any indication - which it is.
He maneuvers them into the bathing room and helps Wei Ying to sit on the wide edge of the bathtub, then starts unfastening his robes.
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With exaggerated care, he leans forward to plant a kiss on the emblem at the center of Lan Zhan's forehead.
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"Mark your words," he murmurs.
Once the last of Wei Ying's clothes are dealt with, he gently pulls the red ribbon from his hair, then helps him into the bath.
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The water's comfortably warm when he slips in, and he sighs, keeping hold of Lan Zhan's hand to anchor him. He wriggles low enough to lean his head on the wide ledge; his loose hair spreads around him like ribbons of ink.
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He works up a lather with the shampoo, then begins massaging Wei Ying's scalp with strong fingers.
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"You're so good at this," he murmurs.
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Eventually he gets the soap all the way through Wei Ying's hair, lathering thoroughly before he gathers the black strands in his hand and tugs, tipping his head back so that he can rinse without getting soap in his eyes.
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Unconsciously, he starts to hum beneath his breath: a melody with no name, formed from his scattered thoughts like fog gathered in a valley.
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First legs, then arms, then he coaxes him first to lean forward so that Lan Wangji can wash his back -- and then to lean back, so that he can wash the rest of his body, gently supporting him all the while.
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At one point, as Lan Zhan bends his head within reach, Wei Wuxian lifts a finger to trail it across his ribbon. Quietly gleeful, he says, "I can do that whenever I want now."
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"Yes. My heart is Wei Ying's to hold."
Finished with the bath, he coaxes him up to sit on the edge of the bathtub once more, wrapping him first in a towel to dry and then helping him into his clean clothes.
Lan Wangji drapes a clean towel over his shoulders and loosens his hair to fall freely, then pours camellia oil into his own hands and begins to run his fingers through Wei Ying's hair.
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"Tomorrow," he starts to say, only to interrupt himself with a yawn. "Tomorrow. We'll get whatever you want for breakfast. The best tea. The best food. And dinner, too -- something good, anything you want. And while you're gone I'll do... things, with the talismans. Make something nice for you for all this. I promise."
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It is quiet, but firm. He does not stop smoothing the oil through the other man's hair, not until every drop has been absorbed.
"I like this. I like doing this, for you."
He starts combing Wei Ying's hair next, finding it much easier now than before.
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He starts to twist around to look at Lan Zhan over his shoulder, immediately regrets it when the room's gentle orbit lurches into something much less gentle, and just manages to steady himself in time.
"You're always doing so much. I don't deserve all of this just, just because I'm drunk."
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He finishes combing his hair and rests his hand against Wei Ying’s cheek, just for a moment.
“I enjoy this. Truly. I do.”
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"I want to do nice things for you, too."
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“I will enjoy that as well. As long as it is something you want.”
He stands, then, and coaxes Wei Ying to his feet, putting an arm around him.
“Come. Sleep.”
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