( Heroes who shot down multitudes of suns with arrows aside, he surrenders to the inevitability of truth: patience has merits. Arrows fly without consideration of their targets. One needs patience to better aim the arrow; the jumble of thoughts that realigns itself into amusement when he does laugh, still resting his head against his husband's neck.
Shared frustration, of an amorous nature? Oh, yes. )
The way you kiss, ( he says, speaking against wet robes and clinging tendrils of hair and the scent of his husband and the waters and the cloying nature of unsettled, slow decay, and the life that rises even so: not one singular scent other than to know it's Lan Zhan, whatever that means. ) They way you kiss me, I've noticed.
( Shared frustration, but ah, tired and wet and bedraggled and carrying shards of mirrors he's no inclination to view his reflection within, he lifts his head. Settles his chin on his own arm where it drapes and folds over Lan Zhan's shoulder. )
Hands in your hair, gripping. You like that, ah?
( Experiments from earlier times, and an awareness that it was not singular, which of them received too much attention from wandering, grasping, dead hands. Only his interest is pointed, curious, and consuming. Living concerns, for the waning patience making progress into its new moon, all but gone. )
no subject
Pretty sure Hou Yi begged to differ.
( Heroes who shot down multitudes of suns with arrows aside, he surrenders to the inevitability of truth: patience has merits. Arrows fly without consideration of their targets. One needs patience to better aim the arrow; the jumble of thoughts that realigns itself into amusement when he does laugh, still resting his head against his husband's neck.
Shared frustration, of an amorous nature? Oh, yes. )
The way you kiss, ( he says, speaking against wet robes and clinging tendrils of hair and the scent of his husband and the waters and the cloying nature of unsettled, slow decay, and the life that rises even so: not one singular scent other than to know it's Lan Zhan, whatever that means. ) They way you kiss me, I've noticed.
( Shared frustration, but ah, tired and wet and bedraggled and carrying shards of mirrors he's no inclination to view his reflection within, he lifts his head. Settles his chin on his own arm where it drapes and folds over Lan Zhan's shoulder. )
Hands in your hair, gripping. You like that, ah?
( Experiments from earlier times, and an awareness that it was not singular, which of them received too much attention from wandering, grasping, dead hands. Only his interest is pointed, curious, and consuming. Living concerns, for the waning patience making progress into its new moon, all but gone. )