i_am_your_host | OOM - upstairs with Sinric

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.

"Just singing." Sinric smiles, his eyelids fluttering warmly at the touches and kisses. "Sharing a little calm. I can't make anyone feel anything against their will."

"It tickles," he chuckles huskily, still kissing him.

"Sorry." Sinric smiles between kisses, turning the soft touch into a firm caress instead, tangling their fingers.

He hums a soft laugh before pressing his lips to Sinric's, indulging in their warmth and softness.

After a few moments in which there is only the sound of their deep breathing and the gentle lapping of water against the sides of the tub, Emcee asks him, "May I wash your hair?"

"You most certainly may." Sinric smiles, stealing another kiss.

"Marvelous," he purrs, before shifting his position again, urging Sinric to move up and forward a bit so Emcee can sit behind him. He stretches his legs out on either side of him, and begins to carefully gather Sinric's hair at his back.

"I may not be as good as you at this, but hopefully I won't be pulling anything out by the roots."

Sinric shuffles up, making room. He laughs softly. "Don't worry, you won't pull it out."

"I'll be gentle," he chuckles.

Raising his knees so that Sinric can brace himself on them, Emcee lets him lean back to thoroughly soak his hair. He slowly combs his fingers through the long, silken strands, working out any knots and tangles as Sinric had done for him. Then, when he sits upright again, he begins to massage in generous handfuls of shampoo. This will take a while longer with more hair to work with. But it's a nice, calming task. And like Sinric, he begins to hum a tune, his smoky tenor reverberating softly through the room.

Sinric reacts with happy little sighs and contented moans. "You touch makes me miss my brothers. They would have loved you."

"I'm sure the feeling would be mutual," he says with a faint smile, as he cups his hands full of water to pour over Sinric's hair and lather it up some more.

"Do you know where they are now? Any of them?" he then asks gently.

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