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[His white boy, though.]

Yeah, no, good call on that one.

[Although now he's kind of curious . . . but ah, well, next time, such is the luxury of having a rich . . . dude . . . he hangs out with . . . sugar dude? Whatever!

. . . god, there's so much food coming out. Even knowing Ling's appetites, Greed is a little taken aback-- and then he starts laughing, because oh my god, Ling, you beautiful disaster.]

So. How far you willing to go for this whole family thing?

[Sugar dude! That will do for now. Ling is ready to chomp down on all this food, so Greed laughing is a surprise. What is wrong with his meal, and what are they talking about now? He shrugs first, really just putting off answering so he can liberally scoop food from every dish onto his plate.]

Well, I'm not going to stop... Why?

That's not what I'm asking. I'm asking, how far are you willing to go? You've gotta have a hard line somewhere . . . or maybe not.

[He's quick about grabbing some food: not just because he's hungry, but because he's pretty sure Ling will just eat it all if he lets him.]

[Yeah, he will, good call. He's already making short work of this plate; not a mannerly rich boy.]

Oh— I already told you I'm not going to kill the rest of the family branches. So far, that's the one.

What about blackmail them? Impoverish them? Swindle them out of their money?

Sure, but I'd like them to stick around instead of running away from me.

So . . . what, you want them to support you as you overtake them? Beat them, but no hard feelings?

No, just listen to me.

[It's not very nuanced at all. Eat your dinner, babe.]

[don't boss him??? like i mean he's gonna eat tho, he's gonna eat ...]

Mm.

[That doesn't seem like a very firm foundation, but . . . well, the kid will figure it out as he goes. And he's going to have to, see, because Greed's got a stupid surprise waiting for him at the bar, but he's also got something far darker for him in store.

He's gotta wait and see. He's not going to introduce Ling to his darker connections just because they're having a fling. But . . . he's stuck around for six months. Maybe it's time to reward that kind of loyalty.

But that's a problem for later. For now: dinner, and he nudges Ling a few times beneath the table, more because he likes to annoy him than because he's trying anything particularly sexual.

A bastion of maturity!

It's nearly ten when they return to the bar (mercifully quiet tonight, and he even let Ling drive them back, he's responsible and/or lazy like that). The lights are on, only a few patrons are in, and Greed hums softly before glancing over in the driver's seat.]

You coming in?

[Well, at least dinner is nice, they have that going for them. Ling has a good time not only because he eats half his weight in chicken and rice; sure, it wasn't a huge doubt, but he did wonder if hanging out with Greed removed from the context of the bar would be awkward or something. It's not! Even when he asks probing questions!

Great.

Anyway thanks for letting him drive, wino... Ling considers for a second or two before turning off the engine.]

So "the next time" I come by is right now, huh? This must be one hell of a surprise.

[Don't call him out . . . babe. Babe. Greed gives him a slightly flat look, sprawled back in the seat. His legs are spread, and idly he thinks about how good it would be to fuck Ling here.

He thinks more and more about fucking Ling, honestly. It's getting to be a problem.]

Don't get excited. I just don't want to spend the next week with you blowing up my phone trying to figure out what it is.

[That's a problem with a solution, babe. Now it's Ling's turn to lean over and steal a kiss, before he zips back to open the door and get out of the car. Let's go, it's surprise time.

He ducks back down to gesture for Greed to get out already. Let's gooo.]

I'll think of something else!

[WHY ARE YOU SO YOUNG AND FULL OF ENERGY . . . . uuuuuugh no honestly he's just being a shit as he takes his time with climbing out of the car. But he throws an arm around his shoulders, yanking him in close, so that's kind of nice.

He leads him in, depositing him on a bar stool and heading in back to grab it. Whatever it is, it's small, because he doesn't seem to have anything as he emerges. Behind the bar he goes, more for show than because he's actually working.

Ling is drinking tonight, apparently, as there's a shot being shoved across the bar. And beneath it, not a coaster, but a card.

An ID card, in fact, and one that's far, far more authentic than the shitty one Ling has. It has holographs and everything, telling the world that Ling Yao is nearly six feet, has black eyes and brown hair, and is absolutely twenty-two years old.]

[That is kind of nice, and he'd be clingier and resist getting detached onto a stool if not for The Surprise, which is truly keeping him going right now. Maybe Greed was kidding, and it is edible... wouldn't that be something!!

But apparently its's just more shots, and - hm! - a much more impressive fake ID than the one in his pocket right now. He lifts the shot and immediately puts it back down so he can scoop up his new ID and marvel at it. Ooh!!]

You got me an ID? You really do want me to drink more!

[Thank you, he's very touched.]

I want to not get arrested when some cop comes in and asks why a kid is drinking in my bar.

[J/K babe it's for you, it's because he's emotionally stunted and doesn't know how to give gifts like a normal person. Also: this is, like, step one in making sure Ling is all nice and legal for when he introduces him to some not-so-nice people.

Speaking of whom . . . he glances over at Martel (who is actually working, not just gently entertaining her special friend, Greed) and then back to Ling.]

Hey. Pick a day when you can come in regularly. I want to teach you something.

[After all: he needs his . . . not-boyfriend . . . in peak condition if he's going to be dragging him around places. A twink is well and good, but a twink that can defend himself is really a prize. And surely this trust fund baby has no idea how to do a damn thing.]

[Great, now he can never celebrate his real 21st birthday here by getting super white girl wasted, it would be too suspicious. Not that it would take much for a twink of this level to get white girl wasted in the first place, so that could be a lucky break.

He's still peering at all the little details of this ID, tilting it to see the holographic parts shine, demonstrating that he is indeed a mature adult.]

Tuesday? [it's Quiet on Tuesdays, after all.] It's not smoking again, is it?

[he could get white girl wasted from two shots alone, and will, someday, because greed will absolutely get him there]

Not smoking.

[He watches him, endeared and exasperated, and reaches to tap his cheek in something a little more firm than a caress but a little less than a slap.]

Fighting.

[hold his hair back when he voms cherries and peanuts, babe, thanks]

Oh. [Is this Greed trying to get him to murder his family, again... maybe not.] Alright, sounds like fun.

I don't mean kickboxing, kid. Real fighting.

[it's just that he feels there isn't the appropriate amount of awe here? he is not inviting him to a weekly session of an escape room.]

[let's emphasize that ling would be way better at escape rooms than greed, okay]

Okay... What are you planning on doing, stabbing me?

[ling would be better at a lot of social activities than greed]

I'm not. But maybe somebody from your family is. Or someone else, someone who thinks you saw something you shouldn't have.

[sad but true]

Hmm, fair enough. I'll cooperate, then.

[He hums softly, pleased. It's always nice when he gets his way, especially when getting his way means that pretty soon he's gonna get the chance to throw Ling around and pin him down and generally speaking fluster him in an entirely new and different way.]

Oh, well, thank you, Mr. Yao, I'm really grateful for your cooperation and support, what would I do without it--

[What an asshole. He reaches over the bar, tugging lightly at a stray bang that seems intent on sticking up a little.]

Haha— [No, that's his hair, stop it. He leans his elbows on the bar, ducking his head away from that offending tugging. Stop, he needs that.]

Don't call me Mr. Yao- it's weird coming from you.

Yes sir.

[That's no better, and also kind of embarrassing, maybe, given he's not bothering to say it quietly? But he seems not to care.]

How many people just call you Ling? Who don't work here.

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