8.2

Ira woke up almost smothered by warmth. It took him a moment to orient himself, lying still on the bed and squinting at the pillow. Then he felt Darcy's grip on his stomach shift and remembered what had happened.

He slumped back down on the bed. He shifted when he realized that he really needed to pee and so pulled the arm away, pushing himself out of the bed. He hurried out the room and was faced with a servant. "Toilet," he said and the servant immediately started walking. For lack of anything else to do, he followed after him.

When he was done taking care of his body's needs, he returned to the room he'd woken up in. Darcy was still sleeping, dozing on his back on the bed. Ira gazed at him silently for a bit before he laid back down on the bed.

He didn't go back to sleep. His mind replayed the event yesterday, when he had walked into the hall and seen Darcy for the first time here. It wasn't something that would usually trip him up this much, but Darcy looked so different that Ira couldn't help but dwell on it. For so many missions, Darcy had looked more or less the same, though of course the features differed.

Li Dawei didn't look like the Silas Ira was used to, and that was what made him stop and take notice. It wasn't a bad change, but it was a change when for so long there hadn't been any significant ones at all. He was shocked, he supposed. This was what shock felt like.

He turned on the bed and faced Darcy, watching the man breathing steadily, the soft rise and fall of his flesh. Resting his head on his hand, he hummed under his breath and scooted closer to the other man. He slowly raised a hand, paying close attention to what the man's eyes were doing. But when there was no reaction, he grinned and quickly poked Darcy's pudgy cheek.

Soft. His eyes widening, Ira scooted even closer.

They hadn't had a proper chance to cuddle yesterday, he'd fallen asleep too quickly. Glancing out the window, he noted that it was still early in the day. Thus, he felt no shame (as he wasn't interfering with Darcy doing something else) to throw his limbs over Darcy and cuddle close.

His head on the man's chest, he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. He matched his breathing pattern to Darcy's, letting his mind rest as it shifted for something to read so he didn't fall asleep. He didn't want to do that. He wanted to see Darcy's reaction when the man woke up to find Ira laying on him.

He pressed himself closer, taking a couple of pictures just to have them. Burrowing deeper into that warmth, he nearly missed it when Darcy woke up.

The man tensed beneath him for a moment before relaxing. Ira shifted around so he could look up at Darcy — still lying on him — and grinned up at the man. "Good morning," he said, drawing the words out.

Darcy gulped. His eyes flew from Ira's face down his body and back up again. His eyes softened as he did so, the severe lilt from when he woke up long gone. "Morning, darling," he said and beamed at Ira. He placed his arms over Ira's body and embraced him, never one to miss a golden opportunity like this.

Ira slumped into the hug. He hummed again, louder this time. Curling against the man, he was in no hurry to leave.

Unfortunately, his stomach did not agree.

Ira was a cultivator. This should not be a problem. He should have no need to eat, instead able to eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He frowned as his stomach grumbled again as if to disagree with him. Clicking his tongue, he shoved himself up and looked down at Silas. Raising an eyebrow, he waited to see what the man would do.

That got boring quickly though. While it was nice to cuddle with him, it was also nice to not starve. Ira pulled himself away from Darcy and rolled off the bed, landing smoothly on his feet. He yawned, stretching his arms high and hearing his back cracking slightly. Wincing, he rubbed his tailbone and walked in the direction Darcy had left his clothes before bed yesterday.

Holding up the robes in front of his face, Ira looked doubtfully at them. After a beat, he simply glanced at Darcy and asked, "How do I put these on?"

"Here, let me," Darcy said and walked over. Ira handed over the clothes and let himself be manhandled every which way as Darcy dressed him.

He had no memories of Darcy doing that before — it was nice. Feeling warm hands smoothing over the fabrics and gently massaging his skin as he worked, Ira fell into a lull. His eyes closed and he gave up on that annoying 'thinking' stuff.

Eventually, Darcy unfortunately stepped back and said, "All done."

"Thank you," said Ira and patted Darcy on the shoulder. He looked around, checking his map to find the kitchen or a dining-room; somewhere to eat. His stomach grumbled again, and Ira gently placed a hand over it. His hand met the soft fabric of the outermost robe and he swept his fingers over it, letting it flow between his hands.

He liked it — a lot.

"Want to eat outside?" Darcy asked, once he was dressed as well. Ira had been too distracted by his own clothes to help, and now when he looked over he noted the sharp cut of the robes and the long hair flowing over his back, some of swept up into a topknot.

Ira's gaze softened and said, "Yes, let's."

On the way over, he finally relented to the faint sense of duty he still had and checked up on his Host. He hadn't paid her (it was a her, right? He hadn't checked that carefully) any attention since he got her, because he quite frankly could not care less. Honestly, she didn't even have a purpose here; she was only supposed to learn the folly of her ways.

This was a Tutorial mission, which of course meant that the mission was simple and any idiot could do it as long as they didn't get distracted. It was easy; all she had to do was throw down a bunch of cultivation manuals over the cliff where the protagonist would get thrown off and learn an all powerful heaven-defying cultivation technique.

Unfortunately, he would suffer a qi deviation and die before he could conquer all the realms and become the Heavenly Emperor.

The cultivation manual Ira's Host would deliver (before the still a young boy got thrown off the cliff, absolutely not after) would give instructions on how to detect and fix these kind of issues. Thus, the protagonist would live. Thus, the mission was successful.

If she failed this mission, he would... probably just sigh.

Shaking his head to lose these thoughts, he glanced up when they stepped out into the morning sunlight. It laid low on the mountain, the light filtered through bamboo trees. Ira eyed the tree-line, taking a step toward it before he remembered why he was here. He was hungry. He'd been promised food.

He looked away from the trees and toward the stone-grounded area where a table had been set up. Ira tilted his head as he stared at the food laid out on it; food he hadn't had in ages. Which meant... new (as in, he'd deleted the knowledge of the way they tasted so he could get the pleasure of experiencing it for the first time again) pastries!

Ira sat down on the chair in a flash. He licked his lips, his fingers itching to grab the goodies before him. But he waited, politely, until Darcy had sat down across from him and the tea had all been poured into cups. Then it was every man for himself.

Ira snagged the plate closest and scarfed down his breakfast in nearly record speed.

He slumped back on the chair when he was done, exhaling softly and basking in the afterglow of a good meal. Turning so he was sitting with his legs pulled up on the wide chair, he sighed.

His Host was an outer court disciple of some sect or other. It wasn't this sect and that was all that Ira needed to know. Everything was just a bonus. Currently, she was in the middle of her morning chores; outer sect disciples functioned a lot like servants in that sect. But at least she wasn't alone, the protagonist was an outer court disciple, just like her.

He was much more hated though.

That was kind of reversal of the way that things usually went. Usually, it was Ira's Host that drew the most hatred, being that they were insanely self-absorbed, albeit in different ways. But this time, it was the protagonist that was the one that drew all the glares and insults and pushing around.

Ira hummed. That was a something that was new, and so it was slightly interesting. But this was still ultimately his Host's mission, so Ira wasn't going to sit around on the edge of his seat, waiting for her success.

He zoomed out, chores not being something that he was interested in watching. It was even more boring when it was his Host who was doing them. He saw enough to know that she had no idea what she was doing and was drawing the ire of everyone around her — that was all he needed to know.

Ira swung his legs over the edge of the chair and stood up. He gazed down at Darcy who was still sitting, the man eating much slower than him. And he sipped carefully at the tea too, instead of just throwing it back like Ira.

Ira frowned at him, "I'm going exploring," he said.

Darcy looked at him, put down the teacup and smiled, "Alright. Do you need somebody to show you around?"

"No, it's more fun if I go by myself," said Ira. He looked at the other man for a minute, feeling the urge to do something. After some thought, he stepped closer and gently placed his hand on the man's hand, patting carefully. It felt kind of weird, honestly. He wasn't sure if he should be doing this.

"Goodbye," Ira said, because humans liked it when you said goodbye before you went somewhere without them.

Darcy twitched, his features twisting horribly for a second before they smoothed out. He took a hold of Ira's hand and brought it down from his head, squeezing it softly. Smiling, he said, "Goodbye, Ira. Have fun."

"I will," Ira assured him and let go.

The manor was gigantic. This was only one of the sect's buildings, but he figured he'd start here and work his way outward. After a while, a servant started fallowing him around. Ira gave her an amused look but allowed it to happen.

There were lots of rooms. So many; big and small, long and narrow, high and low. There was what felt like an unending supply of places to explore and Ira felt a little bit like a treasure hunter. It caused a skip in his step as he investigated every crook and cranny, careful to not miss any of the fun stuff.

It was a blast. Ira spent hours going through just one house and had been filled with joy, so he couldn't imagine how much fun it'd be to do the other ones. He'd already found four secret caskets with locks he couldn't open and fifteen books that had been hidden. He hadn't read them yet, but considering the traps he had to go through to get them, they had to contain something amusing.

Content with this day's exploring, he was whistling when he walked down the hall toward Darcy's main hall where the throne was. He wondered if he would be able to convince Darcy to let him sit on it.