[ wow it's lu bixing's turn to be beat up this time, huh.
the pain feels sort of dim, now. he only registers it dimly that he's being treated and hustled off the island, onto the ferry, and he doesn't bother trying to look strong or tough when lin jingheng pulls him close on it. he doesn't cry, but his hands tremble, and he holds very, very still, almost numb as they go through the motions.
and when they're back and alone in lin jingheng's room, lu bixing tiredly starts to unbutton the buttons on his shirt, and says in a rough, tired voice: ]
...I'm sorry, for worrying you.
[ he knows that must have been terrifying. knows it intimately, from having to see lin die just a few days ago.
joking, very lightly, in a sort of attempt at stepping away from the absolute immensity of everything that just happens, as he fumbles with his buttons with shaking hands, he says; ] What do you think. Monoeye Bixing? Monoeye Dog?
lin jingheng pushes lu bixing's fingers away immediately. if he's going to undress, he will be assisted. his movements are slow, but careful, removing each button until he can slide the shirt off of lu bixing's shoulders.
deadpan as he works: ] Haha.
[ he will look carefully at the bandages there, trying to decide if he wants to redo them, but will instead choose not to expend the bandages just yet. instead. he just guides him to sit down quietly, hands coming to clasp his between them. ]
... I think Lu Bixing works just fine. Keep it.
[ he lifts a hand and cups his face gently, thumb stroking slowly beneath his cheek. ]
[ he doesn't even try to stop him. frankly, after this week, he has no energy to do anything except allow lin to spoil him. he's not shameless enough to ask for it, anymore, and it feels really, really nice, to have it.
the bandage of the sword cut is reddening, still. the one on his eye is, too, sluggishly, but it seems like he's mostly okay. he doesn't quite waver, but he lets lin jingheng pull his red stained hand up to hold it. it's still shaking, lightly, and as he sits down, he closes his remaining eye and exhales out, turning his face into lin's hand. ]
Okay. [ no jokes, really. no flirting. no "maybe you'll give me your last name?" he's just so, so tired. this week has broken lu bixing into pieces, again, but at least... at least now, he doesn't have to be alone as he sits among them. he sounds like he's trying not to cry. ]
I look a lot more like him now, huh? Maybe I'll grow a beard.
[ lin jingheng whispers, holding that stained hand as fast as lu bixing wants him to, keeping him close. this is not a time for jokes, it's not a time to expect lu bixing to be anything but grief in this moment. there is firing a gun and there is injecting someone with their death warrant on stage in front of everyone else. ]
Bixing...
[ carefully, looking at him, smoothing a hand down some of his bandages with care, looking at the bandages over his eye as well and frowning softly. ]
... I'll never get on with your old man. [ especially not now. monoeye rip. ]
But I'll thank him once. Just once. For you.
[ his hand shifts, moves to take his chin and tilt it upwards. always to the sky, to the stars. ]
[ the first bit is a little funny. he's glad for the joke, lighter that it is, the reaction even if it's just a whisper, because he needs to cling onto a little bit of normalcy, desperately hold onto the facade of his own control, but naturally, lin sees right through him.
the comment tugs a little bit of a smile onto his face. hearing monoeye's voice today was hard. more than anything else, it stuck to him, a wound that took him seventeen years to properly close, one that hurts more than any other injury on his body now that it's been torn back open. he misses it. he misses their arguing, actually. misses his dad's overprotective nature, the gruff way that he cared - wanted to ask him a thousand more questions than he ever got to ask, wanted to point out that he was a liar to his face and get answers, too.
but that's gone. it's gone forever, now, even in a place like this, and it is, if nothing else - a reminder that lin is here.
he lets him lift his chin, and looks up at him - one bright brown eye, brows knit together, staring at him like he hung the stars themselves. ]
... I'm sorry. [ are the words that finally bubble out of his mouth. ] I must have scared you. [ and then, a little softer, with that same half sad laugh - ] If you're talking like that.
[ he murmurs it, gentler than before even. his hands move to grab some of the blankets. he doesn't care of they get a little bloody if it means he can at least make sure lu bixing is more comfortable right now. there are worse things. ]
Get an eye that matches at least. [ gaudy!!!! motherfucker!!! ] or wear a patch.
I already told Zhanlu once to get a parrot. May as well run with it.
[ the mental image of zhanlu getting a parrot - and, of course, whatever lin's reaction to whatever stupid way zhanlu took that joke makes him giggle. it's a little, tiny bit hysterical because this has been one of the longest weeks of his life and lu bixing has truly had some Long, Long Weeks (its been a long seventeen years), but the levity of this moment is so nice that he can't help it.
also they just spent all that time dealing with space pirates. he giggles a little bit more, ducking his head, feeling tears well up at the corner of his remaining eye, but - well, at least they're probably of laughter. ]
Space Hell Pirate Prime Minister has a nice ring to it. [ god. ]
[ let him laugh. it's a beautiful sound, and lin jingheng lingers in it, content that lu bixing is in his arms, nearly whole and breathing. he ducks his head and lin jingheng follows after, leaning down so he can thumb away at the tears welling up.
even if they're from laughter, he wants to touch them. ]
[ he. laughs, actually, just laughs at that too, weary and a little hysterical and lifts his good arm to rest it on lin jingheng's shoulder, and then the other, a bit slowly just because he can. ]
So many of them were pirates before, I don't think they'll mind. [ ah, the public. ] Besides, I want to step down, someday, when I can, so maybe they'll think I've gone mad with power.
[ as if lu bixing would ever do that, either. no - he is the eighth's beloved prime minister. even when he had to rule with an iron fist, even when he had to enact martial law to get the piracy and the gangs under control, he's still loved and respected enough.
it's a shame he doesn't want the position. a life like this would be simpler. ]
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no subject
the pain feels sort of dim, now. he only registers it dimly that he's being treated and hustled off the island, onto the ferry, and he doesn't bother trying to look strong or tough when lin jingheng pulls him close on it. he doesn't cry, but his hands tremble, and he holds very, very still, almost numb as they go through the motions.
and when they're back and alone in lin jingheng's room, lu bixing tiredly starts to unbutton the buttons on his shirt, and says in a rough, tired voice: ]
...I'm sorry, for worrying you.
[ he knows that must have been terrifying. knows it intimately, from having to see lin die just a few days ago.
joking, very lightly, in a sort of attempt at stepping away from the absolute immensity of everything that just happens, as he fumbles with his buttons with shaking hands, he says; ] What do you think. Monoeye Bixing? Monoeye Dog?
no subject
lin jingheng pushes lu bixing's fingers away immediately. if he's going to undress, he will be assisted. his movements are slow, but careful, removing each button until he can slide the shirt off of lu bixing's shoulders.
deadpan as he works: ] Haha.
[ he will look carefully at the bandages there, trying to decide if he wants to redo them, but will instead choose not to expend the bandages just yet. instead. he just guides him to sit down quietly, hands coming to clasp his between them. ]
... I think Lu Bixing works just fine. Keep it.
[ he lifts a hand and cups his face gently, thumb stroking slowly beneath his cheek. ]
no subject
the bandage of the sword cut is reddening, still. the one on his eye is, too, sluggishly, but it seems like he's mostly okay. he doesn't quite waver, but he lets lin jingheng pull his red stained hand up to hold it. it's still shaking, lightly, and as he sits down, he closes his remaining eye and exhales out, turning his face into lin's hand. ]
Okay. [ no jokes, really. no flirting. no "maybe you'll give me your last name?" he's just so, so tired. this week has broken lu bixing into pieces, again, but at least... at least now, he doesn't have to be alone as he sits among them. he sounds like he's trying not to cry. ]
I look a lot more like him now, huh? Maybe I'll grow a beard.
no subject
[ lin jingheng whispers, holding that stained hand as fast as lu bixing wants him to, keeping him close. this is not a time for jokes, it's not a time to expect lu bixing to be anything but grief in this moment. there is firing a gun and there is injecting someone with their death warrant on stage in front of everyone else. ]
Bixing...
[ carefully, looking at him, smoothing a hand down some of his bandages with care, looking at the bandages over his eye as well and frowning softly. ]
... I'll never get on with your old man. [ especially not now. monoeye rip. ]
But I'll thank him once. Just once. For you.
[ his hand shifts, moves to take his chin and tilt it upwards. always to the sky, to the stars. ]
no subject
the comment tugs a little bit of a smile onto his face. hearing monoeye's voice today was hard. more than anything else, it stuck to him, a wound that took him seventeen years to properly close, one that hurts more than any other injury on his body now that it's been torn back open. he misses it. he misses their arguing, actually. misses his dad's overprotective nature, the gruff way that he cared - wanted to ask him a thousand more questions than he ever got to ask, wanted to point out that he was a liar to his face and get answers, too.
but that's gone. it's gone forever, now, even in a place like this, and it is, if nothing else - a reminder that lin is here.
he lets him lift his chin, and looks up at him - one bright brown eye, brows knit together, staring at him like he hung the stars themselves. ]
... I'm sorry. [ are the words that finally bubble out of his mouth. ] I must have scared you. [ and then, a little softer, with that same half sad laugh - ] If you're talking like that.
1/2
[ affectionate. made so by how he leans down to gently press a kiss to the corner of lu bixing's mouth, an offering of touch, comfort, cohesion. ]
2/2
[ he murmurs it, gentler than before even. his hands move to grab some of the blankets. he doesn't care of they get a little bloody if it means he can at least make sure lu bixing is more comfortable right now. there are worse things. ]
Get an eye that matches at least. [ gaudy!!!! motherfucker!!! ] or wear a patch.
I already told Zhanlu once to get a parrot. May as well run with it.
no subject
also they just spent all that time dealing with space pirates. he giggles a little bit more, ducking his head, feeling tears well up at the corner of his remaining eye, but - well, at least they're probably of laughter. ]
Space Hell Pirate Prime Minister has a nice ring to it. [ god. ]
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even if they're from laughter, he wants to touch them. ]
What will the public think?
[ he simply Does Not Care what they think. ]
no subject
So many of them were pirates before, I don't think they'll mind. [ ah, the public. ] Besides, I want to step down, someday, when I can, so maybe they'll think I've gone mad with power.
[ as if lu bixing would ever do that, either. no - he is the eighth's beloved prime minister. even when he had to rule with an iron fist, even when he had to enact martial law to get the piracy and the gangs under control, he's still loved and respected enough.
it's a shame he doesn't want the position. a life like this would be simpler. ]