[ Having never put on robes like this before, it takes him some time, and it's definitely not tied correctly. He hums as he examines it, untying what he did. ]
[ Horus shrugs it off of himself and hands it over, holding his arms out. ]
I know how to get dressed with normal clothing, but we do not have anything like this. Apparently there are nobles who do not dress themselves in other worlds.
[ But he wants Walter to know, he can. Horus can stand on his own two feet and isn't useless or lacking common knowledge. Walter is his friend, he doesn't want him to look down on him. ]
[Despite Walter's efforts, when Horus bares himself to hand over the garments entire, the blood rushes to the surface of his skin, spreading its rosy hue over his natural marble tone.
To his credit, he does not drop the fabric; but it takes him a moment to remember his vocal chords exist.]
......Yes, that's right. Or, it was.
[He says, deliberately not looking away from his friend's face.]
[ It should be noted that underwear was decidedly not invented in Horus's time, so he is not wearing any. ]
Was it like that in your time?
[ He was a servant, wasn't he? Horus wonders if he's dressed other people. He stays still, waiting for Walter to make a move. Maybe he hasn't, if he's this shy about it. ]
You don't serve a god or a noble.. You've never told me much of your master, beyond that you have one.
[ Horus seems steady, unworried about the closeness, but he is paying attention to it. He's trying to focus on what Walter does so he can put it on himself properly next time. ]
It's disgusting. The mess. The smell. Alcohol, scraps of food left out too long, and that musky smell that clings to everything when people have sex. The things I find. The things I have to clean....
[Horus' statement takes the fire out of the butler. Anger receding, he looks almost deflated. He takes the blue robe up with a sigh.]
It's a lot more complicated than that. We both have our reasons for why we do what we do, and why we act how we act. We understand each other, and even though we do not always get along, we respect each other.
[As Horus' back meets his chest, Walter's heartbeat quickens. Horus being a good several inches taller than him, Walter's face is almost perfectly in line with his neck, the fragrance oils the god is so fond of alluringly potent.]
...Almost.
[Schooling his composure, he wraps Horus in the blue robe, guiding his arms through the openings and pulling it together in the front, deliberately allowing for gaps to show off slices of the white robe beneath as he finishes by tying it against his friend's body.]
[It's shouldn't take Walter off-guard like it does, but he finds himself unable to look away. The way the light plays against the fabric, and the fabric against his skin... in that moment, Horus looks beautiful.
Lips parting slightly, he takes in a slow breath, not quite realising just how much he is staring.]
[Entranced as he was, a flicker of confusion flits over his features before it dawns on him that he's been caught looking. He looked for too long, and now he's made things awkward.
Cheeks colouring, Walter presses his lips together, turning his head to the side to force his gaze away.]
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What is the proper means to tie it?
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Walter takes a breath, turns to face the older boy, and steps forward, hands gently reaching for the fabric.]
Here, let me help.
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I know how to get dressed with normal clothing, but we do not have anything like this. Apparently there are nobles who do not dress themselves in other worlds.
[ But he wants Walter to know, he can. Horus can stand on his own two feet and isn't useless or lacking common knowledge. Walter is his friend, he doesn't want him to look down on him. ]
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To his credit, he does not drop the fabric; but it takes him a moment to remember his vocal chords exist.]
......Yes, that's right. Or, it was.
[He says, deliberately not looking away from his friend's face.]
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Was it like that in your time?
[ He was a servant, wasn't he? Horus wonders if he's dressed other people. He stays still, waiting for Walter to make a move. Maybe he hasn't, if he's this shy about it. ]
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[That said, he takes a breath, swallows the lump that feels like it has formed in his throat, and steps forward to help his friend dress.
The white robe is the first to go on, the butler gathering the fabric in a way that is favourable to movement, but not displeasing to the eyes.
He's new at this, too.]
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[ Horus seems steady, unworried about the closeness, but he is paying attention to it. He's trying to focus on what Walter does so he can put it on himself properly next time. ]
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Are you interested in him?
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My master...
...is a womanizing, alcoholic slob who could not keep his rooms clean to save his life.
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[ Horus does his best to pester him, after all, and he seems to like it.. ]
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It's disgusting. The mess. The smell. Alcohol, scraps of food left out too long, and that musky smell that clings to everything when people have sex. The things I find. The things I have to clean....
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That smell doesn't linger on people who clean up after themselves, but he doesn't sound like he bathes willingly. You work for him willingly?
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[The clothes that were lying around or on him during said act? That's Walter's problem. As are any contaminated furnishings.
He can picture it now. The mess waiting for him when he returns from Warsaw. The mere thought of it leaves him deeply disgruntled.
So much so that he doesn't even remember Horus' follow-up question despite hearing it clearly.]
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[ Yep, that's definitely the correct conclusion here. Those are grumbles of affection. ]
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It's a lot more complicated than that. We both have our reasons for why we do what we do, and why we act how we act. We understand each other, and even though we do not always get along, we respect each other.
At least, to some extent.
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[ Horus leans back against Walter, smiling. ]
Am I almost ready?
Nailed it, Horus.
...Almost.
[Schooling his composure, he wraps Horus in the blue robe, guiding his arms through the openings and pulling it together in the front, deliberately allowing for gaps to show off slices of the white robe beneath as he finishes by tying it against his friend's body.]
There. How does it feel?
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[ And he moves away from Walter so they can both have a proper look. He's doing a little twirl to show it off now that he's not against Walter too. ]
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Lips parting slightly, he takes in a slow breath, not quite realising just how much he is staring.]
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[ Something's caught Walter's eye, that's for sure. Horus assumes it's himself, but he wants Walter to say it. ]
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Cheeks colouring, Walter presses his lips together, turning his head to the side to force his gaze away.]
...You look nice.
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[ He teases, but the smile on his face is warm. ]
It's fine fabric, I've never worn anything like this! Thank you.
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I was only trying to make sure you didn't freeze.
[But he's happy that Horus likes it.]
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[ He is going to flap his arms like wings. They aren't exactly like it, but-- Ah. He blinks. ]
Can I set it off my shoulders if I want to let them out?
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