Summary: Seiliez often plays dress-up, and there is nothing Laphiji can do besides for simply being there.

Notes: This was a fanfic challenge response to a very cool challenge community on livejournal that required the theme of 'dressing up'. In a way, it was kind of cheating to do this particular pairing, me thinks.

China Doll.

Seiliez is beautiful when drowning beneath layers of silk. It is the type of thought that Laphiji knows he shouldn't have, yet he finds himself unable to turn away when his brother enters the courtyard below. All finery and elegance, there are few still out at this time of night, and those that are scattered about are the kinds who do not always restrict themselves to simply looking. It is why Laphiji always waits, Seiliez would never allow Laphiji to accompany him and Laphiji is not all that sure he would want to travel down the path Seiliez has forged for himself, either. But he is always here, watching as much as he both dares and is permitted, and as Seiliez stops to talk – no, to flirt – with an admirer, it could not be more obvious that Seiliez knows Laphiji is doing exactly that.

Just as Seiliez surely knows that, even as he places the softest of kisses on a foreign cheek, that Laphiji will not turn away.

It's a game played out in satin and high heels, and it's one that Seiliez always wins because he is the only one playing. As Seiliez talks pretty nonsense, he seems not to care that the owner of the foreign cheek has a foreign hand that is becoming far too familiar with the folds of his lovely dress. The hand skims Seiliez hip, then caresses it, and Seiliez just smiles and smiles in an empty sort of way that everyone finds blindingly attractive.

And the game is Seiliez's alone, and so he always loses.

Laphiji watches, but doesn't interfere. If the hand wanders lower or if empty eyes fill instead with fear, then he will enter momentarily Seiliez's twisted game, but until then Seiliez is free to play the whore he so truly believes himself to be. Attempting to change the flow of something already in motion only drives Seiliez further away, and while there is not a single part of Laphiji that does not wish to sweep his brother away from the mess he has created for himself, he knows at least that it is a wish that is selfish.

So he waits, and he watches. Seiliez leaves his not-so-foreign-anymore acquaintance and scans the path, knowing that if he was to be caught then things would take on an even more disastrous edge. But night has robbed the courtyard of all visitors, Seiliez's friend being the last to depart. Laphiji slinks away from his balcony, further into the shadows that are cast a darker black by the pale moon. For someone who is hardly athletic, Seiliez has mastered well the art of climbing vines, and it is not long before perfect hands appear over the top of the balcony, followed by the perfect shell that they belong to.

Seiliez is never surprised to find Laphiji there, regardless of how late he returns. Sometimes, just sometimes, Laphiji thinks that perhaps he won't be there, and wonders exactly how his brother would react. Perhaps Seiliez will simply undress himself, pour one glass of wine instead of two. Perhaps Seiliez will instead smile, sharp and painfully, having proven that he is indeed right and no one can truly love him.

Perhaps …

But Laphiji is always here and always will be, so perhaps and its hundreds of outcomes will never reach Seiliez's balcony.

"You didn't have to wait up for me, dear brother." A smile that is almost seductive while managing to still be so completely indifferent at the same time. "I can undress myself." Laphiji bites his tongue, forcing back the words that would suggest that Seiliez has perhaps forgotten how, given that it appears that he has many who willingly do the act for him. Laphiji turns down the wine Seiliez pours for him the moment Seiliez steps into the room – always the moment he enters the room – and he glares at the one Seiliez draws for himself. Seiliez laughs lightly in response, downplaying his reliance on the blood red liquid just as he always does.

Drink still in hand, Seiliez turns, allowing Laphiji access to the complicated hooks that run down the back of his dress. Deft fingers work at each one, and when he is done he runs his fingers gently down them, parting the material just slightly to each side. Seiliez spins on his heels, turning so he is practically in Laphiji's arms, as Laphiji's hand remains still on the back of Seiliez's dress.

"You haven't said yet how wonderful I look," Seiliez has only been back a few minutes yet his glass is already empty, and there is a hint of red wine in his words. "You do think so, of course?"

And he is beautiful, stunningly so, but it is a beauty that is artificial and forced, masking away someone who is broken and imperfect, but whom Laphiji loves more than this pretty, pretty doll that knows just how to draw the wrong sorts of attention to him.

"You're prettier when you're being you." They're not the words Seiliez wants to hear, and his eyes harden even as he slips from Laphiji's grasp. Seiliez craves anything superficial, seeking a false sense of affection that he at least can recognize. Seiliez has done confusion, has done being wrong, and his heart has been battered heavily as a result. Mother has seen to it that Seiliez sees love as something that is beyond his reach.

Seiliez has forgotten that love is not merely something that you are worthy of, but that it can be given freely as well.

He leaves, as he always does, silently sneaking into the corridor least someone comes to 'improper' conclusions. It is a worthless endeavor as Seiliez slams the door loudly behind him, letting Laphiji know exactly how much he despises him.

It is progress. Seiliez's anger is far preferable to his indifference, and Laphiji allows himself a tiny smile that he doesn't quite feel.

Tomorrow night will be exactly the same.