i_am_your_host | OOM - upstairs with Sinric

"As am I," he murmurs, taking the words to heart.

He is lucky. To be here with Sinric, to be able to bathe, to feel water and steam on his skin, to be alive.

At Sinric's offer, his lips twitch in a faint smile.

"Of course, darling. I would adore that."

Emcee's hair is a bit longer now, his usual close-cropped undercut having grown out some, and the tips of his floppy bangs reaching below his cheekbones.

Sinric kisses him again and moves, urging Emcee forward so Sinric can kneel behind him.

Gently, carefully he guides Emcee to lay back in the water, cradling his head and shoulders so he goes only deep enough to wet his hair. It's a position that requires great trust and Sinric takes it very seriously.

Emcee has no qualms trusting Sinric. It doesn't even enter his mind to not trust him.

His closes his eyes and dips his head backwards into the water, resting his head in Sinric's hands as he does so.

Sinric massages his scalp, guiding him gently out of the water and starting to work the softly spiced shampoo.

He sings softly, just because he can. For the simple joy of singing.

Emcee sits upright, drawing his knees up and crossing his ankles. Eyes closed again, he lets his head fall back as Sinric begins to lather up his hair, humming a sigh of content. Sinric's voice adds another layer to the pleasure of this experience, and he's happy just to listen. He hasn't felt this relaxed in a long time.

Sinric has a skilled hand at this, massaging the shampoo in and gently guiding him back to rinse it out. He moves on to the conditioner, again taking his time, making it as good as possible for Emcee. He loves pampering people he cares about.

Emcee isn't used to being pampered like this, but it's happened on occasion. When he's comfortable enough with someone to allow it. Or when someone pays him for the privilege (lonely fetishists, older gentlemen who secretly prefer to dote on boys).

Sinric, of course, is of the former, but even still, he's different. He's genuine.

"There is only one other man who took this much care to wash my hair and mean it," he murmurs, slightly amused by his own wording. But he means it just the same.

"Yourself, I'd hope." Sinric teases, reaching for a comb and very carefully easing out any knots or tangles, making sure the conditioner is evenly through Emcee's hair.

Emcee snorts a chuckle. "No, not even me," he says, swishing his fingers back and forth across the water's surface, creating soft ripples.

"Though yes, I do get to use these luxurious soaps while I'm here. But I must admit that self-care is-- not my strongest point. I tend to let myself go when I am at my lowest, and rather depend on others to drag me by my ears to shave and shower. Herman, especially. Have I told you about him? It seems as I can never speak enough about him."

"Must I teach you how to enjoy the pleasures of caring for one's self?" Sinric teases warmly, kissing Emcee's neck, "I was a lesson I had to learn as a boy."

"I believe you have mentioned him as a friend and lover. Tell me more about him?"

He hums a softer chuckle, a little more inwardly this time. "Perhaps you must. I don't think I ever learned how."

Leaning back into the water, Emcee lets the warmth envelop him.

"Herman played the piano and was the music director at the Kit Kat Klub. He gave me piano lessons, too. He really is quite gifted, considering that he's just a farm boy who never went to school and whose parents drove him out of their family. I remember the first time he showed up at the Klub, looking for a job." Emcee sighs deeply, a fond smile on his lips. "God damn, he was handsome. Still is. Tall, blond, blue eyes, broad shoulders and chest, and a very serious face for such a young man. He was quiet and polite, and for a while the rest of us thought he was quite humorless. It was just teasing, though. I even worked it into the show. I introduced him saying that the funniest thing about Herman is that there is nothing funny about him."

He chuckles again. "The more I said it, night after night, the more Herman began to find it funny."

Growing quiet, he blinks what may be water droplets from his eyelashes, or maybe tears. "I fell in love with him several times, though I always convinced myself that it was better for the both of us not to. I know he loves me. He would do anything for me. He is just that kind of man. He saved my life and took care of me when I was sick on drugs. Repeatedly. He's seen me at my worst, and yet--there he is. Always there for me."

"I can teach you what Kilída taught me. He was first among the Birds when first I came to the palace. He was very strict that we must clean and care for ourselves every morning and evening. At the time I found it unfair but it has become so engrained in me I can't imagine not doing it."

He listens with a soft smile, massaging Emcee's scalp before reaching for the finishing oil. Emcee will certainly notice how much softer his hair will be for the next few days.

"He sounds lovely. A big, gentle protector."

"Can we skip the mornings?" he asks halfheartedly.

Sinric's gentle, rhythmic touch is almost hypnotic, and it relaxes him to the point where he feels as if he's almost floating.

"Herman is exactly that."

He suddenly swallows hard as a lump wedges in his throat.

"And I don't want to lose him. I couldn't bear it."

"I was taught morning was simply whatever time you rose. Regardless of the hour."

Sinric moved to wrap his arms around Emcee, soothing gently.

Emcee falls silent and leans back against Sinric, willing away the oncoming tears. Eventually he regains his composure, and he strokes Sinric's arm.

"I wish I knew for sure that things are going to be all right. Then maybe I wouldn't feel so hopeless."

As soon as he says this, he starts a little, realizing something.

He turns his head to look at Sinric's face with wide eyes.

Sinric holds him, letting Emcee feel without interference, simply offering comfort and closeness.

He looks questioningly at Emcee's wide eyes look.

And then understands.

"You would like me to reach for the Seeing, to find him so your mind might be at peace."

Emcee knits his brow and nods faintly.

"Do you think it would be wise? Would it be too much?"

"Would it being you ease? To know how he fairs? I cannot promise the sight will bring you good news but if you wish, I will look."

"Perhaps," he says, now obviously hesitant. "I don't know... On the one hand, I'm terrified of what you might see, but on the other-- how will I know if I have failed my friends? If this was all a horrible idea that I never should have put them through? I once asked Childermass to see if his cards could tell me my fortune. I asked if I would survive the upcoming war. And the results were grim. It shook me deeply. But I wanted to change that outcome. I wanted to do more than just accept my fate, so I vowed to get myself and my friends out of Germany so that we could live our lives the way we deserved. Now-- now it seems that I haven't changed anything at all. That I am just delaying the inevitable. But there must be more. There has to be more..."

Sinric stokes Emcee's arms gently. "Death is inevitable, all we do is delay and do what we can with the time we have."

He cups Emcee's cheek and kisses him softly. "If you want me to look, I will. For you. But we will need to move out of the bath."

"I know that there must be more between now and death. It doesn't end like this. It can't."

He drinks in Sinric's kiss. And sighs deeply with a nod.

"Thank you. But-- in a while. I want to enjoy this bath a little longer. And I want to enjoy you." He returns the kiss with a deeper one, warm and lingering.

"Between cradle and grave, let there be light and joy." Sinric sings softly, his voice carrying a sense of calm and hope. "And let it shared with many, and so redoubled and redoubled."

He kisses Emcee deeply, pouring his own joy into it.

Sinric's voice is beautiful. Magical, even.

Emcee feels this, feels the calm, the hope, the joy in his voice and in his kiss. He shifts to sit alongside him, pressing his body against his and running his fingers through his wet hair.

Magical, maybe a little yes. Sinric snuggles close, still singing softly. He takes Emcee's hand, stoking his palm in gentle circles.

Emcee plants kisses along his jaw and nuzzles him under his ear, his breath hot on his wet skin. He slides a leg over Sinric's, rubbing against them.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs curiously between kisses, feeling the circles Sinric is tracing on his palm.

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