[xichen has spent this time tying his forehead ribbon on and re-braiding his hair so it's out of the way, to look proper. or as proper as he can feel wearing sweats and a t-shirt to bed (he did not arrive with sleeping robes and has not requested them, so he suffers.)
he is tired, but the task has pulled him closer to consciousness for the time being. the knocking helps.
opening the door, he offers dean a smile but there is worry in his eyes. he knows that the loss of his roommate will have affected the other man.] Dean. Come inside. [there are two beds in his room but only one has been occupied since braccia. his side is neat with a small not-so-tidy desk covered in papers, inks, a teapot and teacups made from jade, a still made bed with his sword leaning against the frame, and an area where his guqin rests on its stand. there is the small sitting area, but it does not look like xichen has used it much himself.] Is that whiskey? [look! he remembered the name of modern alcohols!]
[ He pushes off the doorframe and ambles in, eyes flicking around the room, taking it in. He's nested as much as Dean has - Dean's never had a room to himself before now, and he's definitely taken advantage of it. When he'd checked Luke's room when they got back (the man hadn't been answering texts or voice messages but Dean had attributed that to everyone being busy as hell), Luke's had been...empty, everything gone. The only thing Dean had found was the book he'd given him, and that was now shoved under his own mattress, hidden away.
That's what he gets for getting close to someone, for letting them in, letting them tell him he was worth something. He's not. He's not even worth staying for. ]
Yes. [ it seems liek that sort of night. xichen is not sure he wants some but letting dean drink alone seems like a poorer idea, when he can partake and perhaps burn the alcohol itself away. or it'll make him tired enough and he'll want to sleep, perhaps it'll get dean to sleep too. ] Let me get us some cups.
[ because even drinking so late, they aren't animals. ] Make yourself comfortable, Dean.
[ he does to his desk, checks the cups for tea standing there and decides they're good enough. ]
[ Whiskey in a teacup, there's probably a song about that.
Dean comes further in and flops on Xichen's bed, because make yourself comfortable means getting all up in someone's space or something. He's a little morose, quiet, studying the label of the bottle until cups are found. ]
once he gets the cups, xichen makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge. he watches dean for a moment, as he looks over the label. there are few that xichen has truly gotten close to on the station and dean is amongst them; one of the few that he's spoken to about himself, shared details with.
a friend at the very least, which is something he had not allowed himself to have when he'd arrived. ] Do you wish to talk about it? Him being gone, that is.
He offers the bottle when Xichen comes to sit, exhaling a little, wetting his lips. Does he want to talk about Luke? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he should. ]
I dunno. He was -- important, I guess. He saw me, like. Saw me, and liked me anyway.
xichen takes the bottle and pours them each a glass, sets the bottle on the bedside table and then holds a glass out to dean. ] Saw you? [ he raises a brow, then seems to nod in understanding. ] That... that is a difficult loss.
To lose someone who makes you feel seen and comfortable through it. [ he reaches out, hands falling on dean's forearm to offer a gentle touch. ] There's plenty to like about you, Dean.
Yeah. Like, that's the danger, I guess. You meet people here, you get to know each other, and then they leave.
[ But -- yeah. That's kind of exactly what's bothering him. Luke made him feel...good. Not just sexually (though the makeouts were very nice), but just good, in general. Not that other people don't, but. Losing someone that sees him is hard. He'd be equally devastated if Jim or Xichen disappeared. ]
[ xichen nods at that, cannot do more than offer a sad smile.
that danger, that fear of it, is such a familiar thing. it clenches his heart, keeps him wondering what's wrong with him that that is the consistent thing in his life. between his parents, mingjue, and even in a twisted way jin guangyao. ] We must make the best of it, while we have the time together, I suppose.
There are plenty of assholes here, Dean. You are not one who means to hurt. [ serious and a little light toned all the time. ]
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[ he'll rush anyway, a bottle in hand, coming to lean on the doorframe and sharply rap against the door. ]
Xichen?
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he is tired, but the task has pulled him closer to consciousness for the time being. the knocking helps.
opening the door, he offers dean a smile but there is worry in his eyes. he knows that the loss of his roommate will have affected the other man.] Dean. Come inside. [there are two beds in his room but only one has been occupied since braccia. his side is neat with a small not-so-tidy desk covered in papers, inks, a teapot and teacups made from jade, a still made bed with his sword leaning against the frame, and an area where his guqin rests on its stand. there is the small sitting area, but it does not look like xichen has used it much himself.] Is that whiskey? [look! he remembered the name of modern alcohols!]
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[ He pushes off the doorframe and ambles in, eyes flicking around the room, taking it in. He's nested as much as Dean has - Dean's never had a room to himself before now, and he's definitely taken advantage of it. When he'd checked Luke's room when they got back (the man hadn't been answering texts or voice messages but Dean had attributed that to everyone being busy as hell), Luke's had been...empty, everything gone. The only thing Dean had found was the book he'd given him, and that was now shoved under his own mattress, hidden away.
That's what he gets for getting close to someone, for letting them in, letting them tell him he was worth something. He's not. He's not even worth staying for. ]
Yeah. Want some?
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[ because even drinking so late, they aren't animals. ] Make yourself comfortable, Dean.
[ he does to his desk, checks the cups for tea standing there and decides they're good enough. ]
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[ Whiskey in a teacup, there's probably a song about that.
Dean comes further in and flops on Xichen's bed, because make yourself comfortable means getting all up in someone's space or something. He's a little morose, quiet, studying the label of the bottle until cups are found. ]
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once he gets the cups, xichen makes his way to the bed and sits on the edge. he watches dean for a moment, as he looks over the label. there are few that xichen has truly gotten close to on the station and dean is amongst them; one of the few that he's spoken to about himself, shared details with.
a friend at the very least, which is something he had not allowed himself to have when he'd arrived. ] Do you wish to talk about it? Him being gone, that is.
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He offers the bottle when Xichen comes to sit, exhaling a little, wetting his lips. Does he want to talk about Luke? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he should. ]
I dunno. He was -- important, I guess. He saw me, like. Saw me, and liked me anyway.
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xichen takes the bottle and pours them each a glass, sets the bottle on the bedside table and then holds a glass out to dean. ] Saw you? [ he raises a brow, then seems to nod in understanding. ] That... that is a difficult loss.
To lose someone who makes you feel seen and comfortable through it. [ he reaches out, hands falling on dean's forearm to offer a gentle touch. ] There's plenty to like about you, Dean.
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Yeah. Like, that's the danger, I guess. You meet people here, you get to know each other, and then they leave.
[ But -- yeah. That's kind of exactly what's bothering him. Luke made him feel...good. Not just sexually (though the makeouts were very nice), but just good, in general. Not that other people don't, but. Losing someone that sees him is hard. He'd be equally devastated if Jim or Xichen disappeared. ]
Well, I dunno about that. I'm kind of an asshole.
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that danger, that fear of it, is such a familiar thing. it clenches his heart, keeps him wondering what's wrong with him that that is the consistent thing in his life. between his parents, mingjue, and even in a twisted way jin guangyao. ] We must make the best of it, while we have the time together, I suppose.
There are plenty of assholes here, Dean. You are not one who means to hurt. [ serious and a little light toned all the time. ]