dumbshow | highly new, slightly improved open post

[The past few days have been-- and he so rarely uses the word, but there's no other that fits-- blissful.

Not because everything is perfect. That would terrify him, frankly. But that's just it: things aren't perfect, and yet somehow they're good. They're enjoyable. Huaisang doesn't make everything perfect, but he does make everything easier. Even the dullest parts of Jiang Cheng's day are a little easier to bear, because he knows there's something wonderful waiting for him at the end of the day. It barely matters what they're doing; just sitting around eating lotus seeds at ten in the evening is enough.

He suits Yunmeng, too. Whether darting excitedly through the streets or sitting in a pavilion out on the lake, he looks like he fits here, so at home it's a wonder he's only lived here three days now. And if he looks so comfortable, so suited to Lotus Pier right now, why--

Well. Anyway. No sense in getting ahead of himself. The point is: things are going well, and it's all he can do not to instinctively distrust that state of affairs.]

Are you asking me to? I will.

[He glances over at him. They're secluded enough; it's not as if anyone will catch them. Sect Leader Jiang might not be able to throw the second son of Qinghe into a lake, but Jiang Cheng certainly can.]

Are you overheated? I told you to wear thinner robes.

[Perhaps purple robes? Hm.]

[It's been three days but it feels like longer, and pleasantly so, at that. The people of Yunmeng are friendly, friendlier than at Qinghe— not that his own sect's people have ever been unkind to him, but Qinghe people don't stop him excitedly on the street, call him young master, young master! and hand him handfuls of steamed buns just to try. And yes, he's a rich little second son with coin to spare, but still! By the second day he knows half of their names like he's lived at Lotus Pier for a year already, and it's... fun.

Fun to be in town; relaxing to be with Jiang Cheng during times like this, when they're finally alone and free to unwind just a little. Huaisang hums and flutters his fan pointedly, because it is humid. If Jiang Cheng wanted to take him back to his room and give him something light and purple to wear, and touch his lips and fall asleep in his lap again, that would be another decision entirely - but as much as he enjoys Yunmeng, he can't actually run around in another sect's colors just for fun.]

It's colder in Qinghe! I brought the thinnest robes I have...

[Also they are very expensive like everything he owns, he can't handle lake stains on these robes, so please be considerate when throwing him anywhere. It's— okay, it's absurd at best, but it would be a lie to say that Huaisang hasn't put some... extensive thought into Jiang Cheng just lifting him up like it's nothing. He has definitely considered that more than once, and even bolder: how to provoke Jiang Cheng into picking him up...

But the lake part isn't so great!! He's stuck! A terrible, terrible fantasy.]

I'm just wondering if you've given up on throwing me around.

I don't give up on anything.

[Jiang Cheng is going to pick Huaisang up and they're going to both die, it'll be fantastic.]

I just want to wait for when you won't whine about it when I do. Fortunately for me, I've got the rest of the season. You'll give in sooner or later.

[About the lake. He'll give in and they'll go swimming, that's assuredly what this conversation is about.]

If you throw me in the lake like this, [that is, Fully Clothed, but he can't just say that,] I'm definitely going to whine!

[So! Give him something else to wear or no swimming. Huaisang hasn't spent time at a lake in... ever, really? Gusu had its little streams winding all around, but nothing like the lake here. Is it going to be all bugs and algae in there in the height of summer? Hmm.]

It's cooler at night. If you're going to shock me, do it then.

[The temperature is the only reason.]

You want me to do it at night.

[Was there a need for him to say that? Never mind to say it like that, his tone a little heavier than strictly necessary. In his defense: he was going for deadpan sarcasm, not . . . anything else, but like so often around Huaisang, what he means to happen and what truly happens are two different things entirely.]

You're absolutely sure about that.

[Be careful what you wish for, because he absolutely has a plan for if they're going to swim at night, and it doesn't involve adding clothes.]

[Well damn, if he wasn't sure a moment ago he is now, even if- sorry, but let's be honest- he assumes Jiang Cheng has absolutely no idea how his own words sound, as usual. Huaisang is just making an innocent request, that's all...

He shuts his fan, tapping it thoughtfully against his chin. Wow, what a difficult question!!]

Hmm, if I get to pick? Yes.

[It only makes sense, see. No one will catch them out there in the middle of the night. Truly, he has only Jiang Cheng's reputation as Sect Leader in mind, he is so considerate.]

[He's absolutely right to assume that.]

Then no complaining.

[It's not that far from evening anyway-- and sure, Huaisang hadn't meant tonight, specifically, but why wait?]

Do you know how to swim? That's an important part of this. Am I teaching you tonight?

[Oh good, there's still an element of surprise. Please don't ruin his expensive outfit, that's his only request.

And— hmm. A pause. Then, almost sheepishly:]

Well, how deep is your lake?

[He can probably not drown? Do not expect elegance. Qinghe doesn't have lakes!!]

[He stares at him for a long few seconds, then sighs. It's not Huaisang's fault he wasn't raised in a normal place on a lake, but still, honestly, what kind of childhood . . . ]

You'll be able to stand. But if you need to, you can hold onto me.

[He leans over, nudging him with one elbow.]

There's fish in the lake. Don't scream when one brushes against your leg.

I'm not going scream over fish! I've seen fish before.

[Wow! So maybe it's been a while since Wei Wuxian last pushed him into a river while fishing, but wow!! Sounds like he'll have to hold onto Jiang Cheng to avoid the terrifying fishies...]

I know you've seen fish. You've eaten them, too. That doesn't mean you're not going to scream when one runs up against you and you can't see it coming.

[Love you, babe, but you're on his turf now, and that means he gets to make all the assumptions he wants. Is he merciless? He is. But sooner or later they move on to another topic, and another, and then they wander off to get food, but the important part is: they come back.

Late, too. Late enough that everyone's asleep, late enough that he should really be asleep, because Sect Leaders have to be up early to deal with everyone's problems. Instead: they're in the most tucked away part of Lotus Pier, far and away from anyone's prying eyes.

He sets his sword down carefully first; his ring comes next. His shoes; the belt keeping his outer robe cinched tight. It's only once he's rolling that off his shoulders that he says helpfully:]

Catch up.

[Because there's no special robes for swimming, or at least there aren't right now. Besides: it's summer. It's humid. This is what you do in Yunmeng, or at least it's what you used to do with your brother, and now are reapplying it in an entirely different context. Leaping into the lake naked with Wei Wuxian when they were twelve is a fair sight different than doing it with Huaisang now, but whatever! It's fine! Nothing worth agonizing over, and hey, there goes his middle robe, so seriously, catch up, Huaisang.]

[Here they go, really getting started on the list of things Mingjue can never, ever hear about. Huaisang should know better, when Jiang Cheng invites him to go for a walk with him after dusk, but the days are long and peaceful enough that he's not thinking about a dip in the lake until the water is in sight. So, ah—

Ah. He has to be forgiven for standing there and watching Jiang Cheng for a moment; the moonlight at his back, the faint glow of lanterns from the house cast over this, ah, scene— no one could possibly blame Huaisang for being a little distracted when Jiang Cheng simply stops and starts taking off his clothes.

So-]

—Oh.

[Oh, okay. Huaisang starts with his belt, if only because he is not putting his fan down on the cold hard ground, where people walk, without a protective layer, god no. It's accessories first, so next come the pins out of his hair, which he runs a hand through to let it fall naturally around his shoulders. One layer of robes, then another, and then he pauses to wonder just how nude this swimming lesson is supposed to be. It was one thing to be in shock in a bath in front of Jiang Cheng, but this...

Well, this. One robe left to shrug off and boy, if they'd done this in the daylight he'd have burnt to a crisp for how pale he is, the pampered artist... He fidgets with a lock of hair instead of picking his fan up again, stooping to take off his shoes. So, is this whole cloth skinny dipping or a pants-for-modesty session... Being an adult who has to be mindful of other people's reputations is so, so difficult; to think if they were poor nobodies he could have been naked in the water like twice over by now! Damn!

It's Jiang Cheng's house though, so let him know, thanks.]

[The plan had been to just leap in naked, but the reality is this: they're still vaguely tentative, and what he wants isn't quite the same as what ought to happen. So: pants, but only that, and if his gaze lingers as Huaisang slips off the rest of his clothes, well. He's not the only one looking, right?

Honestly, Jiang Cheng has no idea. He's too caught up in the way Huaisang looks: slender and soft in the best way, and god, but there's no inch of him he doesn't want to touch: the slight curve of his hip, the span of his waist . . . his eyes drag over the set of his collarbone, the long line of his neck, and he swallows thickly. Huaisang is all pale skin, which makes the sharp shock of black hair a delightful contrast. Add to the fact the moon gives his skin a glow, and god, but maybe it's good they've still got pants on.

Anyway. Fuck. Fuck, what was he doing? Oh, right, swimming, right-- absently he kicks his pile of things over, half-hiding them beneath a bench. No one will come by, but if they do, maybe it's best they don't see the Sect Leader's robes strewn about on the floor.]

Just jump in. I'll keep you from sinking.

[That's what he manages, thick and a little clumsy, before turning to hoist himself over the pier. He's done this a thousand times, and so is he showing off a little as he dives in? He is. He absolutely is. There's virtually no need to dive, but there he goes. At least the water is nice: delightfully warm this time of year, and a welcome relief after the heat of the day. The wind's in the right direction, too, which means there won't be any bugs . . . a perfect night.

Or it will be, anyway, once Huaisang joins in. Jiang Cheng can't say he minds waiting: it gives him an extra opportunity to stare, after all. He shoves wet hair back, eyes locked upwards.]

[Huaisang watches Jiang Cheng dive- absolutely showing off, the dork, but it's deserved- and allows himself the moment of hesitation on the pier to be a little transfixed. Chalk it up to his picky attitude, not wanting to hop into a lake as easily as Jiang Cheng does, but he needs a moment to watch him, all lean muscle and precise angles, just a wholly different shape from his own. God, but it's like he's been sculpted out of marble, and as Huaisang shuffles over to the edge to look down at him in the water, it's a different kind of hesitation that holds him there for a moment.

It's just— this moment might be a simple thing, the two of them fooling around where they probably shouldn't, but if Huaisang could stop time during these weeks in Yunmeng, he would. One day Jiang Cheng will get married and carry on his family name, blah blah, duty, but in the warmth of early summer he's just Huaisang's, and the nebulous shape of their relationship doesn't have to be defined. Jiang Cheng looks up at him from the water and Huaisang wants in equal measure to slide his hands over wet skin and down the dangerous inward dip of his hips— and just to put the image of him and the feeling of all this to memory.

But he's been standing there for a second too long and so he laughs sheepishly, like he's been worrying about sinking this whole time (and well, hasn't he?), tugging at his hair again. He's not nearly as practiced or graceful at getting himself into the water but he manages, shivering from something that certainly isn't the temperature.]

I wonder if the fish are afraid of how serious Jiang-xiong is...

[He says this and still drifts right up to Jiang Cheng anyway, shamelessly reaching for his arm. Hello, help him, he's so terrible at swimming.]

[At least they have the same terrible idea: Jiang Cheng offers his arm readily, ignoring the way it would be easy to slip an arm around his waist instead. Not yet, because there's steps and steps.]

I hold my life in your hands. One more joke and you're left to try and swim on your own.

[It's a threat, clearly, even as he shifts to brace them both a little better. He wrinkles his nose at Huaisang, quietly pleased with how he looks right now. It's not attraction-- or, well, it is, but not like that. This is more just . . . contentment, maybe, at how easily Huaisang fits in here.]

Here. Hold my hands, see if you can reach the bottom.

[Might as well, right? Either that or they're moving; there's no point in staying still in the middle of the water. Come on, darling . . .]

Well? You've been here for three days. Better than anywhere else you've ever been, hm?

[Huaisang scoffs, clearly not believing the gall of this man, but obligingly moving to hold his hands and try to get his feet on the bottom of the lake anyway. It's, hmm, not the greatest show of athleticism by far? He's like mouth-deep in the water and blows an irritated bubble or three at Jiang Cheng before he pops back up again.]

Being taller isn't a skill!

[It is, however, even more prominent here in the water that Jiang Cheng is like a head taller than Huaisang, and trust him, he's thought about it a lot. He pulls himself back to stick to Jiang Cheng's arm with a huff. What can he say about Yunmeng, especially its grouchy men, hmm...]

I do like it here.

[...which is to say,] You know the old man in town, the one who makes the steamed buns? He told me he'll have his son craft me a hair pin in a design no one else has ever worn. [Very! Cool! This craftsman is probably not trying to seduce him, maybe.] I've been thinking about drawing my own designs, what do you think? Ah, you could help me with one...

[He can and will continue to chatter about Yunmeng like this until he's stopped, enjoy.]

[Honestly? It's nice. This is exactly the kind of chatter he was hoping for: genuine, yes, but also not something he has to focus that hard on. Sometimes it's nice not to think. Sometimes it's nice to just drift around in a lake with a man who is important to you, and never mind how.

They go like that for at least a minute or ten. At some point Jiang Cheng kicks back, lazily floating through the water instead of walking them through it. It means he's got to get a better grip on Huaisang, and that's pretty good too: his palm sliding against slick skin, idling thumbing against his waist as he pulls them along.

He'd be content to spend the next few hours like this, honestly, or at least as long as it took Huaisang to get sick of the water. And because he would be so very pleased to do so, naturally the universe reads that desire and promptly spits on it. There's a bright glow coming from the north, and voices soon follow. Three? Four? It's likely nothing but a few servants, and who cares, but at the same time--]

Shh.

[At the same time, he really doesn't want to be caught in literally nothing but his pants. So they're going to go under the pier, up against a pillar, Huaisang caught between it and Jiang Cheng himself, pressing up tightly against him. Just shh, one hand on his hip and the other braced at his shoulder, as Jiang Cheng glances up, trying to track their movements.

It occurs to him, a few seconds too late, that he's currently pressed up against the object of his affections, bare slick skin and the heat of his breath, only half-seen in the darkness beneath the pier. That what they're wearing barely counts; that this is the closest they've ever been, that this is nothing compared to a pin, and yet he can't pull back now.]

[True to form, Huaisang continues his rambling commentary until he's shushed; Yunmeng is bustling compared to Qinghe, so he has plenty to say, but ah-- no? It takes him a moment to hear the voices, and before he can even look up and around to see if they're nearby, Jiang Cheng is pushing him up against a pillar and he can't think about anything else. It's gone, it's a total blank.

Because what else is supposed to focus on in a situation like this? Jiang Cheng pressed so close against him, skin bare and cool, the firm pressure of his hands sending a flush of heat to Huaisang's face that he doesn't think can be seen in the dark, but wouldn't that just be his luck? His feet still don't touch the ground and he doesn't know what to do with his hands, so when his knee bends and bumps against Jiang Cheng's hip and he catches himself pushing wet hair off his shoulder, no one can blame him. He leaves his hand there against the side of Jiang Cheng's neck, eyes locked on his face while Jiang Cheng looks up at the underside of the pier.

For the record, this pillar is definitely gross, but he's heroically braving it in order to savor being mostly naked and pressed between it and Jiang Cheng's entire body. He's sure he can feel the exact jut of Jiang Cheng's hips pressed hastily against his, and oh, oh—]

Ah—

[Ah, and is he allowed to speak yet, because holy shit. If whatever servants are up there can't hear his heartbeat by now they won't hear the soft noise he makes to get Jiang Cheng's attention and then glance significantly up; can he speak now, are they in the clear, oh my god??

Don't get him wrong— all he wants to change about this is the quiet. The closeness, skin cool and yet touch burning, mm, those can stay. He will somehow endure.]

[He has an answer for that. He does. But suddenly he can't remember how to formulate words; he can't remember what it is to speak, to not have a mouth gone dry. Time seems to slow to a crawl and rush past all at once, and he feels stupid, but god, this is too much to bear.

No, he finally comes up with. No, it's not safe to talk, not when those footsteps keep lingering. (Are they drinking? On his pier? some minor part of him makes note of that indignantly, but that's for Sect Leader Jiang to deal with tomorrow).

Huaisang's fingers linger against his neck, and that's really all he needs: that first move, a silent permission. Yes, it's fine they're touching one another like this, yes, it's okay, he isn't overstepping, he isn't imagining things, yes--

--yes, he can lift his hand and place it gently over Huaisang's mouth, hushing him. One step forward, one more intimacy shared . . . it's not the kiss he's desperately fantasizing about, but one thing at a time. He ducks his head, mouth by his ear.]

Shh, I said. Don't you know how to listen . . .?

[Wet hand— very compelling. Huaisang raises an eyebrow, trying to convey with eyes alone that, no, he does not know how to listen and when has he ever? He's no Wei Wuxian, but honestly, Jiang Cheng knows better! To wit: this is not the time to try and goad him with wiggling eyebrows, and yet that's what he's doing...

It would be easy for Jiang Cheng to shove him out into the open and swim away himself, to leave Huaisang to explain to some disciples what the Qinghe second son is doing at this hour, stripped down in the lake. But Jiang Cheng's body is firm against his and his breath is hot and voice low in his ear, and mm— getting shoved to the side doesn't seem likely.

He glances up again, this time trying to spot the guilty disciples through the planks himself. They're not so close that a few errant sounds of water down here will sound out of the ordinary, so Huaisang can keep clinging to Jiang Cheng. Maybe something a little bolder, as he grows accustomed to being pinned like this. That second part is remarkably easy! Who knew.

Still, it's truly unfair that Jiang Cheng keeps whispering at him like that. Huaisang shrugs him away from his ear, quietly lifting his hand out of the water to pat him on the cheek and shush him with a press of two fingers against his lips. He lingers there too, all but blatantly tracing the curve of his mouth to its corner before lifting his hand away, eyes wide and searching his face for - something.

So shut up, Jiang Cheng, damn.]

[Fucking make him why don't you.

Actually: Huaisang really is sort of making him, because there's absolutely no way he'll move a muscle when his fingers are dragging over his mouth. It's not overly long, nothing obscene, but it's direct. It's another little yes, another vulnerability offered, another bit of evidence to offer towards his desperately defensive mind. See? Why would he do that, unless--?

His hand drops, his fingers sliding gently against the curve of his jaw. His eyes dart over his face, watching Huaisang watch him. It's not a clap of thunder, but rather a tiny fracture in the steel resolve of his mind: propriety and fear always, always outweigh this nebulous, unnamed thing between them, but for just a few seconds, the scale tips.

And though he hesitates once, turns his head and then second-guesses himself, he still manages it: ducking his head down semi-smoothly, slotting their lips together, kissing him so terribly gently.

It barely lasts. He pulls back after a few seconds, panting harshly, ignoring the chatter from directly above them in favor of staring at Huaisang in breathless anticipation.]

[They're pressed so close they barely have any space left between them to close, and yet Huaisang revels in the barely-there touch of fingertips against his jaw. He smiles, soft and encouraging; he won't push at this precise moment, the crucial one, he knows Jiang Cheng too well to provoke him when the stakes are actually serious. It's fine; he can wait. Lord knows he's waited this long, and ah—

It's wet, the kiss. They've been smearing wet hands on each other's faces, so the first thing Huaisang can think is Wet. It's almost humorously anticlimactic after years of wanting, years of thinking about this moment for it to come up wet, but somehow it feels fitting. Something about their first kiss being a clumsy, chaste thing under a pier, mixed with the taste of lake water feels like them.

And Jiang Cheng, god, but if the look on his face isn't another Huaisang wants to burn into his memory forever. Breathless like they've kissed for much longer, probably flushed all the way to his ears- it's hard to tell in the dark, but Huaisang can make a good guess— uncertain and waiting and perfect, he thinks. There isn't anyone else who makes his heart soar, giddy after years and years and ages—

Ah, but he's still not allowed to speak, so instead he chews his lip for a moment and then nods; yes, that was right, yes whatever Jiang Cheng is thinking is probably right on the mark. It's fortunate that they're still in the water then, if only because of how much easier it is for Huaisang to pull himself up and kiss Jiang Cheng.

When they can talk they'll have to, they can't not, but at this precise moment there isn't anyone else in the world besides the two of them.]

[Maybe he won't punish the disciples tomorrow, he thinks faintly. Maybe he'll even reward them. They deserve no less, because whatever else they've done, they've lead him and Huaisang into this impossible, wonderful, ideal moment.

Yes, he nods, and he doesn't wait a moment longer before diving in. He's clumsy at kissing, his mouth pushing a little too hard, so terribly eager to chase after this giddying happiness. One hand drops, gripping Huaisang's thigh firmly, just so he can stay hoisted up like this. And, maybe, to show off a little: yes, being in the water helps immensely, but could he keep Huaisang up like this even without it? He could, and it does them both good to remember that.

He'd always thought couples gaudy when they'd make a racket kissing, all moans and gasps given purely so others would look their way-- but now that it's him making out with someone, turns out it's really hard not to whine. Or moan. Or make any kind of approving noise, just to be sure Huaisang really knows he wants this.

Those footsteps are slow to fade, but at least they seem to be moving. Progress? Except he really doesn't want to stop kissing Huaisang, so maybe they'll just ignore that.]

[Oh, and there he is— there's Jiang Cheng unfettered by society this and duty that, sending a jolt of something hot and electric all the way through Huaisang as they connect again. The grip on his thigh does it a second time, and he can't help but hike up his other leg and wrap both firmly around Jiang Cheng's hips. It's easy in the water, and yes, rest assured that he knows Jiang Cheng could hold him up effortlessly on land, too. Has run the numbers.

So then: kissing, and it's everything he's ever fantasized about and so much more, hot and eager and worth the wait. Huaisang can practically feel Jiang Cheng's paper thin restraint and that is absurdly attractive, and he really should not try to break it completely when those footsteps are still lurking somewhere overhead, but mm— if he deepens the kiss and squeezes his thighs tighter around his hips, well! He's just trying to stay up and no one can scold him for this blatant irresponsibility.

The footsteps are far enough away for Huaisang soon enough; he breaks apart from Jiang Cheng and murmurs against his lips,]

Jiang-xiong... [...this is a terrible swimming lesson, no, and maybe he'll workshop a more casual form of address later, but for now it's only the heat in his voice that matters. He wants Jiang Cheng so badly he could recite the Lans' rules about not doing things like this and still sound ready for anything, but mercifully what he says is,] You can touch me.

[Which, fair, he already is - but Huaisang has so much bare skin and Jiang Cheng is trying so hard, he deserves some explicit permission.]

[Oh, thank god. Let it be known he fervently appreciates that permission, silly though it sounds, but it's nice to have that solidity to cling to.]

You don't think I'm touching you?

[He rocks his hips forward experimentally, and oh, fuck but that's good. His breath stutters, and he tries to cover for it by ducking down, mouth kissing against his jawline, over his pulse, down the side of his neck. They really do both taste wet, but-- and he scrapes his teeth experimentally against his neck, humming softly as he does-- it's as much about the reaction earned as anything to do with him.]

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