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[It was inevitable sex, and indeed might still be, but the more time he spends with Ling, the more he realizes that his usual approach isn't going to work well.

He could do it, of course. He could grab his arms and pin them over his head and kiss him senseless before fucking him until dawn, and that'd be fun. They'd both get off on that, and Ling would definitely have a hell of a first time. But that seems . . . impersonal. Not cruel, exactly, but lacking in any kind of emotion or attachment, and that--

Well, obviously it suits him. That's how he does things, and that's great, he loves that kind of frantic, fast lifestyle, seeking out physical pleasure over some stupid emotional connection. That's fine.

But it doesn't suit Ling, and a guy's first time is important.

So he settles there, hovering over Ling, straddling his hips, and doesn't yet dart down to kiss him. He wants to, very much, in no small part because Ling looks fucking fantastic on his bed, his hair all flared out around him and his body half on display already. But all Greed does is drag his fingers against his cheek, a touch as admiring as it is lustful.

It's nice like this, he thinks. Ling looks good-- not just physically, although yes, that too. But it's just . . . he looks sweet like this, excited and eager, laughably inexperienced and yet absolutely game to try anything. The dim lights highlight his skin, enriching it rather than making him look sallow or sickish, as they might with others. His body is lean, lithe, and absently Greed's fingers slide down, tracing over the chord in his neck, over his collarbone, faintly down his chest.

And there's something undeniably infectious about his smile. It makes him smile, though of course that changes to grin almost immediately.]

Right now? I know for a fact I'm gonna keep you in my bed all night. And maybe I'll learn a little more about the kid who's so eager to take me out to dinner while he's there.

[Inevitable can be later, eventual— just like this, Ling is happy. All things considered, like for example, never going on a date he wanted to be on before, this date is going great! Greed hovering above him is something else he'll be thinking about long after he leaves here after tonight, and not just for how good-looking he is. Not just for how he looks at Ling either, craving, although that helps—

He's smiling, is the thing. Greed smiling earnestly at him is a precious commodity he didn't know about before tonight, one that warms him from the inside out and makes the way he wraps Greed's tie around his fingers more affectionate than anything like coy.

Obvious, then, when he taps the end of said tie against Greed's cheek, raising his eyebrows.]

I thought you already knew me well. Do you want to know my favorite color? Or how many times I sprained an ankle trying to sneak out?

[it's time for the newlyweds game!!]

Hey--

[Stop that. Go back to being coy, that was cuter, and he bats a hand, frowning vaguely. Ling's gentle teasing doesn't help-- it's not like it hurts, but there's a part of Greed flying by the seat of his pants, and he doesn't appreciate this mockery.]

I know you generally. That's different then getting to know all the detailed stuff.

[He settles in a little, resting his weight on one forearm so his free hand can slide against Ling's face.]

I knew everybody's life story within a day of them working for me, but I didn't get to know them until a few months had passed. It's two different things. So yeah, kiddo, tell me all that, why don't you?

[Is this not cute?! He'll stop playing with the tie, or at least stop hitting Greed in the face with it; he does need something to do with his eager hands, here. It's gentle and affectionate mockery, besides. Don't be a baby.]

Four times! [Cheerfully, as he tilts his face into Greed's hand a little. Yes, loving that, keep doing this cute thing.] And it's yellow.

[Which explains some of his more questionable fashion choices. It's actually fortunate that he hasn't purchased his own car, or a banana yellow monstrosity would be sitting in front of Greed's apartment building right now.]

Your turn to tell me something I don't know.

[Stop calling him cute, what the hell. He will, at least, keep stroking his face, but it's purely for his own pleasure.]

Mm . . . I've got six siblings.

[Shitty, shitty siblings. He doesn't say it with any real vitriol or relish, but there it is: a fact he doesn't know about him. Greed's hand lifts, brushing through his hair again, sliding one black strand through his fingers.]

[He is cute, being affectionate like this. He can believe it's all for his own sake all he wants, Ling is still going to enjoy it.]

I've got more, [is his answer to siblings, though, and in this particular timeline that's probably just due to regular infidelity and not questionable politics... but also still a little bit questionable politics.] My cousin is probably actually my half-sister, but we don't talk about it around her.

[Rich people, right??]

Gross.

[There's not much actual judgement, but also: yall be nasty.]

Which side of the family?

I know. [Ling has judgment!! It's fine, this is why he sneaks out and only cares about a select few family members. Spite fuels him.] Guess.

[it's not a hard mystery to crack, babe.]

Both?

[It's definitely possible.]

I should hope not... Just my father, as far as anyone knows. We don't talk, like I said, so I don't really care.

[But not his mommy... let him have one decent parent, universe.]

Hmm.

[Which is a noise that means boy, rich families are messed up and your father sounds like a piece of shit and god I'm glad I burned that bridge, speaking of fucked up fathers. It's a hum with a lot of meaning packed into it, and it buzzes in his throat as he leans down and settles more fully atop Ling.

He's warm, the heat from his bare skin seeping in through Greed's shirt. It's a nice feeling, and he smiles as he tips his head up, nosing against his jawline. Hello, and just to be sure it isn't too soft an action, he nips lightly at the skin, leaving little red marks.]

Well, shit. There's one worry off my plate.

[He stretches out, one leg slotting lazily between Ling's, hand splaying against his torso. Greed's head tips back, and he's grinning as he drags his teeth against his neck.]

Your daddy can't exactly be mad at you for sleeping around when he's doing the same thing, huh?

[Well, he can only guess at two of those hums, but two out of three isn't bad (Meatloaf discography playing muffled from the apartment downstairs). Ling shifts to get comfortable beneath him, but it's more just making sure his hair isn't caught under any limbs than trying to out-maneuver Greed in any way. He's more than content with this arrangement; Greed is a comfortable weight pressing down on him, and the leg between his is an added bonus.

It's all very... slow, somehow, slow and intimate punctuated by those nips of his teeth that keep Ling from getting too relaxed. It isn't a bad thing at all; he likes the extra bit of tension, like a string somewhere on him that keeps getting pulled taut when he isn't expecting it.

Nice.]

He can, [dads, man.] but he still won't talk to me about it, if he finds out.

[And will he find out...? Maybe, honestly, but probably not.]

Ahh, well. If he sends a bunch of people after me, at least it'll be exciting.

[Has that happened before? Probably, frankly. It's just really fun to seduce rich people, okay, especially when they're so obviously desperate for something out of the ordinary. He's built to play the role of a rebellious little break from reality; a quick fuck and a walk on the wild side, and then they both go their separate ways. He's done it a thousand times (or at least, like, ten), it never gets old.

Ling's not like that, though. Odd. He'd thought he would be. He'd thought it would end by the first month; Ling would be clumsy in his flirting and Greed would fuck him and he'd head back home, crave for a slumming satisfied. Instead . . .

Instead, they're here, six months later, and though Ling is shirtless and hot beneath him, Greed doesn't want to fuck him just yet.

Because if he fucks him, he'll leave, and Greed doesn't want--]

Wouldn't be the first time some dad's gotten out the shotgun for me.

[A drawling comment, as he nudges his leg up, giving Ling a firmer pressure to grind up against. Teasing, now, that's allowed. Teasing, making him hotter, making him crave Greed more, sure, that's allowed.]

[Ling laughs lightly at the mere suggestion that his father cares enough about his carrying on to send someone after a bartender in the seedy part of town. It'd be neater and "better for the family" just to cut Ling off entirely, he thinks, but still - it requires the old man to find out in the first place. Let alone weigh the pros and cons of abruptly losing a prepared heir...

He just doesn't see much coming of this, from his father's side of the equation. It's been six months; someone would have stopped him by now, if they really wanted to. But none of that is flirtatious or affectionate so he doesn't explain, instead sliding his arms up around Greed's shoulders like he'll lean up to kiss him any second now.

Not that he does. He doesn't know the entirety of whatever game Greed is playing with him right now, but his increasingly pressing need to be kissed isn't so much that he doesn't want to find out. This is truly heroic patience demonstrated by Ling Yao, incredibly thirsty virgin.]

That's— [That's Greed's thigh against him and Ling isn't resisting every temptation here, not even close, pressing his hips up against that leg appreciatively. Even as he does it still makes him blush, a fresh rush of color to offset his content little smile. He has no plan and zero experience, but he's got his heart set on enjoying whatever he's given.]

That's nothing to worry about. Think about me, instead.

[Ah, and a flush like that is worth everything. Any kind of reaction is, really, and there's a lovely little jerk in the pit of his stomach, something that makes it wildly tempting to just pin Ling down and really make him wail. Instead: Greed sates himself with a look alone, dark eyes dragging over the blush in his cheeks and the hazy delight in his gaze.

He pushes his leg up, working pointedly against him, as one hand drops to grip Ling's hip. He tugs him upwards, encouraging an easy rhythm, perfectly pleased to be used if that's what it takes to rile the kid's imagination. Like that, rocking against his thigh, all hard pressure and heat, and he ducks his head down, nosing against the side of his head, as his hand drags up his torso once more.]

I'll tell you a secret.

[He nips at the shell of his ear, his voice low and his breath hot.]

I've been thinking of you for months now. Every time you came in I'd think about how it'd be to bring you back here . . .

[Even the way Greed looks at him is a thrill, so clearly wanting and so completely in control. Unlike Ling, who rocks his hips up eargerly, now that he's been encouraged— Ling who revels in even that much contact, pressure and weight and Greed's fingers dug hard into his hip, and all with their clothes still on. He's too eager to be embarrassed about such a display, thrilled about just a little grinding, pressing fingers into the back of Greed's neck to keep him there, close.

It's a pity Greed isn't looking at his face the moment he tells Ling he has a secret, because the unabashed excitement practically makes his eyes sparkle. Any secret is a good secret, but ah—]

But you didn't, [he says, almost pouting about it. He could have been kissed so long ago...! He shivers with the next press up of his hips, arms tightening around Greed, his smirk audible in his voice,] I didn't take you for the shy type.

[That earns a scoff, quiet and incredulous.]

I'm not shy.

[He really isn't. Shyness had nothing to do why he didn't approach Ling; it was calculation, really. He didn't want the brat to stop coming to his bar too early, lest a powerful connection slip between his fingers just because he couldn't control his dick. And then, after three months--

Well, after three months, it was sort of fun to draw it out. It's good for a man's ego, watching a guy so obviously hung up on you stare at your arms when he thinks you're not looking. It was fun to imagine how he'd take the kid, how he'd get him to wail and writhe and whimper, and everybody knows anticipation is half the fun, right?

And sure, maybe he'll still use his connections. Ling's powerful, after all, or he will be, once he gets control over his family's fortune and company. But it's probably better to enlist him as an ally than just manipulate him, right? Yeah.

He tips his head back up, grinning down at him.]

Don't sulk. I'm here with you now, aren't I?

[He ducks down, brushing his lips against Ling's, a tease of a kiss that isn't quite satisfying just yet.]

You're mine now, aren't you . . .

[It's alright, he knows Greed isn't shy. Neither is he, flitting around the bar never having a drink or going home with anyone who might have tried to flirt with him, somewhere in the midst of his babbling on about his family problems. He may not have even noticed, busy watching Greed charm his other customers endlessly with a roguish grin and a pointed flash of those dark eyes. He charmed Ling, that's for sure, without even speaking to him half the time.

So alright, nobody here is shy, but that doesn't mean Ling can't be facetiously disappointed about the six months of idling time. He didn't think he'd get this far, or that Greed would want to spend time with him and get to know him, instead of just fuck him once or twice and send him on his way. It's all been a pleasant surprise, in the way that "pleasant" means everything Greed does gets Ling's attention with his entire body.

Like now - those lips, his words, stirring up a warmth in Ling that spreads to his very fingertips, hot and craving. Is he Greed's now, is that just something Greed says in bed, is it something more? He doesn't know. He knows firm pressure between his legs and breath hot on his skin, and those are— persuasive things, to say the least.]

Am I...? [Can he be, is that an option? His voice is soft, vulnerable despite his words being actual nonsense,] I bought you dinner.

[equivalent exchange]

You bought me dinner.

[There's a hint of a laugh in his voice as he says it, but not much of one, because he hears the way Ling's voice has gone soft. He's really asking, and the problem is, Greed has no idea.

Is he his? More importantly: does he want him to be? Oh, yes. Oh, yes, he's almost certain he does. He's not entirely> sure, not yet, but there's something about Ling that's utterly charming. He's cheerful and witty and delightful, but Greed knows he'd get bored of that if that was all there was to him. But Ling has a devious side, a shrewd, cunning quality that he's seen only once or twice before. It's as attractive as his charm, and Greed wants to see more of it.

But he also just . . . he just likes the kid. He's irrepressible, doing what he wants regardless of what others around him say. He comes to a bar for six months where the staff scoffs and groans each time he chats them up, and in that way he becomes as much a part of their crew as any employee. He forces his way in, determined in his goals, and god knows Greed likes that kind of personality.

Am I...? Soft, sweet, and yet if Greed laughed and shoved him away he has no doubt Ling would retaliate. He's virginal and inexperienced, but that doesn't mean he's weak.

So. So what would happen if Greed said yes? He'd have to work even harder to keep Ling. Because that's the thing, see; you get too comfortable and people leave. You attach to them, you trust them, you give them everything and they leave you, high and dry, just like that. The only reason Ling is still around, Greed knows, is because he hasn't gotten all of what he wants just yet.

Sure, maybe it won't just be after one night. Maybe it'll be a quick affair, torrid and rough, Ling slumming it and then getting sick of all the filth that living in the shadows brings. But sooner or later, once Greed gives in, Ling will finish using him and move on.

Just like every other lover Greed's ever had (which is why, of course, he always leaves them first). Just like Father had, way back when, using his shitty children for his shitty plans, right up until Greed had broken off, and oh, boy, he hadn't taken that well, had he? no, no, Daddy dearest had tried to kill his fucking kid for that, all because he couldn't tolerate that shit--

Anyway.

Ling. Ling is beneath him, waiting for an answer, all flushed cheeks and dark eyes and absolutely hopeful expression, and Greed knows he's being fucking stupid, but--]

Yeah. You are.

[--he leans down anyway, kissing him soundly, his leg rocking up to grind against Ling in one hard movement. Yes, an emphasis with body as much as word, a hard kiss that will bruise and ache tomorrow.]

[Ling doesn't know what Greed is thinking, just that he is thinking of something, serious and important, and he wonders just how much of it is actually about him. He likes Greed, he does— thinks he's charming in his rough way, feels his heart melt when Greed smiles at him, all kinds of sappy, infatuated things that have nothing to do with how much Ling wants his body. Because he does, don't get him wrong, but he could look at any number of well-built guys uptown, without hauling himself down to Greed's absolute dive of a bar for six months and chatting up his employees just to be friendly.

Still, they don't know each other that well, not yet. He'd like to; he wants to know what makes Greed tick, wants to know what he's thinking about now when he looks at Ling with that unreadable expression. Just tonight he's learned more about Greed the man rather than Greed the bartender than he has in all those months, and that's so—that's what he's here for.

His family is important, that's true, but this thing he's developed with Greed somehow is what keeps him coming back. If only he knew what Greed was thinking, he could— do... something?

Whatever that is. He wants Greed, more of him, right now wants to be told he's his, that there's something here, something past his clumsy flirting and Greed's humoring him.

—And he gets what he wants, smiling in the moment before Greed's mouth crashes into his. He's overwhelmed in an instant, the slow and steady buildup crashing down around him as Greed kisses him hard enough to knock the breath out of him for a moment. He surges back against him, kiss and grind against his leg both, all but lifting his whole body off the bed for a second or two.

It's a good kiss, maybe the best yet, Greed's body flush against his and his mouth hot. He can't help the soft noise that escapes him, needy and almost satisfied, like he's scratched every itch except one and that's Greed and this thing between them.

He'll be thinking about it tomorrow, no doubt. He won't be able to stop himself. In the dim light Greed is all he can see, and it's going to be a long day thinking about how Greed looked just now, hovering over him, about to—

Well, he needs to breathe, but he's still smiling when he breaks the kiss, breathing uneven. Let him just— for a second—]

I am. [yours yours yours, it's satisfying just to say—] I hoped you'd say so.

For how long now?

[He knows, sort of, but indulge him, he wants to hear it laid out blow by blow. Except the moment he says that he dives back down, kissing him hungrily, his mouth working hard against him. This is less claiming and more simply because he likes the way Ling kisses, clumsy but enthusiastic, arching upwards and throwing himself into it. And then, again, when they break for breath:]

You're wearing my shirt tonight, you know that?

[Because obviously he's sleeping over.]

[Experience won't make his kisses less enthusiastic, so it's lucky that Greed likes them as they are now. Ling does it again, squeezing his arms around Greed to pull himself up as much as he can into the next kiss, heedless of answering questions when he can be kissing instead.

He's wanted to kiss him all night. The few brief, stolen pecks were nice, very cute, but this— the intensity, the want behind them, this is what he's been hungry for. He's giddy, smiling too much again when they break apart and wider when Greed declares he's going to dress him up in his shirt. He already loves that! Great!]

Good, because I don't know where you put mine. [He wasn't paying attention at all, oops. He threads his fingers into Greed's hair with a little hum, pleased.]

It's been so long! Ever since the first time you really talked to me, besides making fun of me for that time with the beer.

[Dark beer. Anyway, this was definitely months ago.]

Dark beer.

[He drawls, because that's still frankly hilarious in his mind. It's absolutely become a running joke within the crew of the Devil's Nest. Poor Ling. But at least it's fondly meant, surely that's worth something . . .]

You're gonna have to learn a lot more about alcohol if you're gonna date me, you know.

[JUST SAYING . . . but he pulls back, making a shushing noise to preemptively silence any whining that might occur. He'll be right back! But he wants to at least yank off his tie first, if not the entire dressy outfit, because this is deeply uncomfortable.

At least Ling gets a nice little show as he takes off his clothes. There's no shame or hesitance to it; he strips down to his boxers quickly, tossing the clothes vaguely in the direction of the laundry basket. They do not land near it.]

Here--

[But a t-shirt is tossed Ling's way, too big by about two sizes, soft and well-worn, perfect for sleeping in.]

Then you'll have to give me more cherries before they're almost expired.

[That's the deal, he'll learn about booze - which he assumes means drinking it - if he gets more treats. Dark beer...

But ah, good call, there's most definitely an almost-whine when Greed pulls away. It's immediately lonely here when he gets up, because Ling is really that clingy, but Greed undressing with such, hm, alacrity? Such swiftness? That makes him feel better already.

He watches the clothes not land in the laundry and smiles again, endeared by this sloppy mess of a man, and has made the executive decision to wiggle out of his own dress pants purely for comfort's sake when Greed's t-shirt hits him in the chest. One moment before he pulls that on, then shifts from lounging to up on his knees, so he can hold the hem of the definitely too-big shirt straight and peer down at the print on it.

And also show off that he is wearing nothing but underwear and Greed's shirt, hello, look at him, already with his hair down and pleasantly tousled. Please compliment him.]

What do you think?

[The maybe-bad news: Greed's added some sweatpants to his own outfit, so he's standing around shirtless but sadly not in his underwear. The good news: he's absolutely looking at Ling, admiring and lustful both.]

I think you're going to have to wear my clothes a lot more from now on.

[His boy looks cute as hell in his clothes, news at eleven. His eyes drag up and down him a few times, taking in the lovely contrast of slender, toned legs emerging from a large shirt, the collar stretched out enough that it exposes pale neck and collarbone . . . oh, yes. He looks perfect.]

One of these nights you're going to have to learn about Joy Division. A lot of bands, actually.

[Just saying: there's going to be a night with pure British punk. Actually . . . a few pokes on his frankly massive speaker system later, and the rapid-fire sounds of Joy Division fill the apartment. Then Greed comes back to bed, gathering Ling up in his arms and yanking him in close. Whether that's to sleep or just to be all tangled together as they talk, who knows.]

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