Work Text:
Huaisang placed his comb on the dresser, keeping his eyes down to avoid eye contact with Jin Guangyao. While Huaisang had always been very quick to cry for attention, shed a few tears for sympathy and to get his way, he always hid his true tears. Tears that fell when he was reminded of his brother’s death, of all that had changed since losing the most important person in his life.
This time, his vision was blurry with tears that weren’t for Jin Guangyao to see.
Jin Guangyao took the comb, sat down on the chair placed behind Huaisang and began untangling his hair, carefully letting the braids down and allowing the soft strands to spill down Huaisang’s back.
They were both silent, the only sound in the room being that of the comb gliding through Huaisang’s hair, and their soft breathing. Once it was properly untangled, Jin Guangyao tied it up in a style comfortable enough for bed, and placed the comb he had once gifted to Huaisang, long ago, when he still went by his mother’s name and he had not yet been kicked out of Qinghe, carefully back in the drawer it was always kept in.
“All done,” he said, with that polite smile of his, a smile that Huaisang had always adored, but now could not stand to see. “Time for bed. I’ll take care of the candles.”
Just as he was about to get up, a hand shot out to grab his sleeve and hold him in place. Huaisang was still avoiding eye contact, but had turned his face slightly towards Jin Guangyao.
“San-ge, stay,” he pleaded. “Come to bed with me, hold me, anything —“
“Of course.” Jin Guangyao smiled again, placing his hand over Huaisang’s. “You need only ask, as always.”
They moved to the bed together, cozy under the sheets and wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Huaisang had always had trouble sleeping, it ran in the Nie family, and for years the only thing that helped was the comfort of Jin Guangyao’s arms.
Even now, with the knowledge of who exactly had murdered his older brother, Huaisang found comfort in those arms. A few tears escaped, no doubt wetting the fabric on the chest he had his face pressed against, but it didn’t matter. Jin Guangyao held him tightly, continued running his fingers through Huaisang’s hair, allowing him to relax and start to doze off.
During the day, Huaisang spent his time plotting against his brother's murderer, made sure all the details were considered and taken care of, and put up a fake smile whenever he was confronted with Jin Guangyao. It was an exhausting mask to wear, but necessary.
Nie Huaisang hated Jin Guangyao, wished the most horrible things upon him, spent every single minute of his day wishing they had never met, and acted as if he was completely oblivious about exactly what he had done. That was what he was best at, of course. Shaking his head and pretending he didn’t know, about this and that, about who took his brother from him.
At night, Huaisang replaced the mask with a more revealing one and allowed himself to be vulnerable. He asked to be held, he let his mind go empty and found comfort in the warm body pressed against his own. At night, it was okay not to think about his brother, it was okay to fall asleep with nothing on his mind but the hands running through his hair.
Nie Huaisang loved Meng Yao, adored his dimples and his ability to make Huaisang laugh so easily, trusted him with his deepest, darkest secrets, and kept Meng Yao’s in return. That was another thing he was good at, keeping secrets, ones that could break out wars if overheard by the wrong people. Keeping the secret of who took his brother from him.
At night, Nie Huaisang found comfort in the arms of his brother’s murderer. He would get his revenge one day, his patience would pay off, and tomorrow he would go back to hating Jin Guangyao, but for now it was okay to love Meng Yao.