dumbshow | the critically acclaimed open post

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.]

[Sweatpants... are not as sexy as wandering around in his underwear, but they're a softer, more passive kind of sexy; the sort of sexy you think someone is after you've already been super into them for months and months, which, hey! Ling has! It's a good look, just like leather pants (somehow) and the nice outfit Greed wore to dinner.

3 for 3. On a roll. And as an added bonus, Greed is a huge nerd? Ling watches him set up his speakers with amusement, sitting with his legs tucked under him and leaning back on his hands. Greed is so... cute, which he'll never take sitting down, so what Ling says is,]

You really think I'm sheltered, don't you?

[He is, but in a different way, not a "never been on youtube in his life" kind of way. Still, he's not bothered, especially when Greed scoops him up and pulls him close. He laughs, wiggling his arms back around Greed's shoulders and fitting himself securely up against his chest. One boyfriend shirt^TM separates him from those muscles, a slight tragedy...

But don't think he's not completely on board with this new cuddling, even so soon after Greed got him hot and bothered. He's loving it- Greed's shirt, comfortable and worn; his arms wrapped around him; his dorky insistence on playing music like that is how he'll teach Ling the ways of the world... Ling thought he'd go home right after dinner on this date, content but still driving his dad's car back to the Yao household alone. Now?

He tips his head to kiss him, short and affectionate, not nearly as hard as minutes ago. He's happy, which isn't rare for him, but it's still something.]

In some things, sure.

[Because he is. Maybe not in every way, but there's also a difference between sheltered and uneducated. He doesn't think Ling hasn't heard Joy Division or the Smiths not because he's naive or sheltered, but because he hasn't properly been introduced to the right bands.

Anyway. He listens with half an ear, toes curling in pleasure at the music, as he kisses the top of Ling's head. He still has no intention of fucking him, but still he drags his hand down so he can slip it beneath his shirt, fingers teasing up his bare back.]

Teach me about property tax someday, sweetness, we'll call it even.

[Thankfully, Ling is a quick study, and it doesn't take much for him to clue in that this is not the night Greed makes good on his declarations of fucking him properly. He's fine with it; desperately goddamn horny now, thanks a lot, Greed, but he'll manage.

Still, that doesn't make him shiver any less when Greed's hand slides up his back. It's nice, gentle and delicate and teasing, and he's a sucker for it. Naturally.]

A small business owner should really understand property tax already.

[Just... saying. Anyway. What does he know that Greed doesn't?] I'll teach you about good food.

Can you cook?

[That would be mildly impressive. He suspects Ling more means this is expensive, I like to eat it, look at it, but one never knows. He turns his fingers in, nails dragging down his skin, a little grin on his face. He likes those shivers, okay. He likes them a lot.]

[Oh, he definitely means I like this food, let's eat it, but that's not important! Greed threw beef jerky at him like an hour ago, he needs the education. And the nails on his skin make him melt, back arching gratefully in the space he really doesn't have, pressed close like this. Please, continue.]

Not really, no. I'm spoiled, you know.

Yeah, believe me, I know.

[It's cute right now. It may not be so cute later on, but that's a bridge they'll cross later. For now: he keeps dragging his nails against his skin, delighted by his squirming, rocking his own hips forward to tease against him.]

So, what, you're gonna take me out to dinner again? I could live with that.

[God, Greed is unfair— Ling can't physically press himself any closer than this, but that itch he can't scratch feeling is back with a vengeance already. He shifts to tangle their legs together, less endeared by sweatpants for a brief moment--]

I'll spoil you, sure. We can go somewhere you pick next time.

[To make it fair, but also because that uptown life is oppressive; he won't subject Greed to it all the time.]

Ooh, isn't he sweet, even when he's getting desperate--

[He's laughing though? What an asshole. At least he lets Ling arrange them as he likes; he hooks his leg against Ling's, keeping them close together.]

You gonna be able to sleep tonight?

[Wow, shut up and let him be desperate in peace. He still laughs, a little breathy, flushed down past the collar of Greed's t-shirt. He's dealing with this very well, thanks.]

If you keep this up, I'll need a cold shower.

[He might already, but look, he's dealing.]

That's sort of the idea, kid.

[He definitely does already, but whatever, it's a compliment?? Greed's hand slips out of his shirt, raking through his hair instead, all so he can tip his head back and meet his gaze properly.]

I like it when you get all breathless cuz of me.

[Well, let him go take a shower... Not that he's making any move to wiggle away at all, just looking at Greed with the same boundless affection he has been all evening. Hey.]

You're doing a great job? [is that anything. it's a compliment.]

[It gets him to laugh, anyway . . . that's definitely something. And he absolutely makes it his priority to keep Ling straddling that fine line between riled up and yet not so much so that he'll leave, which is a delicate sort of balance. But it's worth it for the guarantee that he'll be thinking of Greed ages and ages after tonight.

They fall asleep sooner or later, the sounds of Joy Division still pumping in the background. The morning comes and goes, because when you work the night shift you tend to miss those hours regardless. So it's only once the sun's started creeping down towards the horizon that he wakes, right next to his phone buzzing insistently over and over in his ear. He groans as he peels himself away from Ling (who is, if possible, even clingier in his sleep than he is when he's awake).

The texts that appear on his phone, one after another after another, sentences from friends and one-word cryptic messages from others, are worrying. Worrying enough that his trepidation must show on his face, because soon Ling is sleepily asking if everything's all right.

Don't worry about it, is all he says, and starts to try and find something decent to wear for his shift tonight.

And for a few weeks, things are . . . stable. Easy. Almost blissful, honestly, save for the fear niggling in the back of his mind. Ling stays over twice more, stealing his shirts, taking him out to dinner and reveling in being able to share the depths of his knowledge for food. He shows off a few other things, too-- turns out the kid can keep up a fight! he's a little too clean right now, he needs to know some hideously cruel tricks if he wants to ever win, but he's way better than Greed thought he'd be-- and Greed generously returns the favor.

Ling can mix drinks now. How delightful.

What they're doing isn't a secret, but there's one day where nobody really realizes, and then Ling walks in proudly wearing one of Greed's shirts, and that's the end of that. Greed gets a lot of comments for that one, but you know what, Dolcetto, he knows who he fucks so he's really got no room to start making comments.

Asshole.

But they congratulate Ling, anyway, all in their own separate ways. Actually, they make a lot of comments on how Ling could do way better, but it's said in teasingly, which means that Ling's now gotten just a little closer to the Devil's Nest staff. He's one of them now, another little stray adopted by Greed, an outcast in some fashion or another and now brought to their little home.

It makes something in his chest twist joyfully to see that. Ling (his Ling), cheerfully addressing Roa or going toe to toe with Martel, fitting in even more smoothly than before. It's a warmth he's unused to feeling, and he savors the feeling.

Of course it doesn't last.

It's around three in the morning Ling gets a series of texts, one after another:]

hey you home

ling wake up

ling

answer me

HEY

[This is a relationship now, as much as neither of them have really said it out loud. Greed saying Ling is his and Ling agreeing, well - that's something, but it's not "changing your relationship status on social media" something, which is the standard ordinary people tend to go by. But Ling knows this is an actual, honest-to-god relationship, and honestly-- it's nice! Going on dates is nice, staying over at Greed's place is better, even learning dirty fight tricks and how to mix a drink is something special.

He's never really put his all into something before, but he's in deep with Greed now, and it's overwhelming and exciting all at once. When the Devil's Nest group cracks the code (and Ling comments to Greed in the car one evening how he's surprised it took them that long and needed such an obvious visual cue, considering how the two of them have never been subtle about all this)— Ling laughs and laughs, and he's happy to be included as more than the annoying little brat who wouldn't actually drink his drinks.

It's fun. He doesn't have fun most of the time, but now - he catches himself counting the hours he has to put up with meetings and business and wearing suits, the hours before he can get the hell out of there and go back to Greed and the people who actually see him, not just another Yao cutthroat-in-training.

A bunch of texts waking him up in the middle of the night isn't really novel, but when he rolls over to grab his phone and reads them, something is off.]

hi?

did something hhpan

happen????

[He's barely awake, go easy on him.]

[There's a pause, just long enough to be worrying, and then:]

Yeah

Go get Lan Fan
have her stay in your room tonight yeah?

[Go get...? Oh, that's not good. That is decidedly bad, and he's on his feet headed for the door (where Lan Fan is doing her due night shift diligence just outside, of course) before typing his response.]

tell me what happened are you okay

[Hasty, but please. Ling hasn't remained completely ignorant to the Devil's Nest being a little shady - Greed has been teaching him quite matter-of-factly how to stab someone in the ribs most effectively, for fuck's sake - so please, don't leave him in the dark.]

yeah

shit i'm fine yeah it's fine

[Because yeah, sure, that's a terrifying text to get, but also, if he's in a position to text, he's probably fine.]

nobodys dead
stay away for a few days

i'll come get you soon

[You can't just text him nobody's dead and expect him to take it well, holy shit— It's better than nothing, but "stay away"? What's happening? It isn't enough, so thanks a lot— now Lan Fan has to endure him worrying himself sick for a few days, waiting miserably by his phone.]

okay

please be careful

[Don't fucking die on him, specifically? Despite his kneejerk reaction being to get up now and go straight there, he doesn't, he listens. He can hardly explain himself to Lan Fan but she stays, and he doesn't get back to sleep after that, and he'll fake sick for a few days if he has to because he knows he won't be able to focus on vapid parties, so. It's fine, surely, Greed says it's fine; it has to be fine. Still going to be a rough couple days, but it's fine.]

[He'll have to be looking for it, but news will come, though not from Greed. There's a tucked away article way back in the local news section, talking all about how there was some gang warfare recently. Nothing tragic-- oh, there were a lot of injuries, bullet wounds and gashes from knives, blood all dried out on the concrete-- but only one person died, so that's all right. It all ended in a fire that was, thank god, contained only to one building. Arson is suspected, if only because the bar went up like a match, but then, the article adds, it was full of spirits. It's not surprising it burned so quickly.

They aren't yet certain who the corpse belongs to, because it was trapped in the bar at the time. And though the article doesn't actually say this, the police aren't all that interested in IDing the body, frankly. Whomever it was, it likely wasn't anyone important.

A full week passes before Ling hears from Greed again-- and even then, it isn't much. Just an address, texted and sent from a new number. -G, it's signed, but hey, the kid isn't stupid, he knows enough to know who it's from.

It's a busted little building, nothing like the nice one Greed has been living in before. This one looks three steps away from being condemned, and there's definitely a sizable homeless population squatting in it right now. But Greed's waiting in 303, just as the text said, his mouth pinched and the bags under his eyes a little heavier than they'd been before.]

[Lan Fan finds the article, since Ling won't do anything but sit in bed and wait for his phone to ring. It takes her an extra day to give it to him, concerned as she rightly is about how he'll respond— and he takes it badly, of course. He reads it once and he feels numb; twice, hollow; by the third time his eyes pass over the part about just one casualty his vision blurs with tears and it's all he can do to sit there and wipe his face as the tears keep coming, until Lan Fan takes the paper away from him.

It can't be Greed— he refuses to believe it, but if it's not Greed then it's one of the others and that isn't any better—

It's two days before Ling bothers to get out of bed again, and a third passes before he numbly gets dressed and goes about his business. No one in his family or any of their meetings mentions the Devil's Nest, but of course, they wouldn't; it's just Ling, alone in this upper crust world, who gives a damn. He doesn't speak to anyone but Lan Fan and no one even seems to notice.

But then, finally, a text as he's half-heartedly staring at his closet to dress for today's stupid meetings, and he immediately throws his pressed shirt in a heap to throw on jeans and a t-shirt (so he doesn't get instantly mugged in the worst part of town, see) and get the fuck out of the house. Someone tries to stop him on his way out, and what he shouts at them will probably land him in some kind of trouble later, more than skipping his responsibilities will, but whatever-- he doesn't care about anything else anymore.

He finds the building and then room 303, pausing for just a moment outside before he walks in, not knowing what to expect— but Greed is there, and that at least unwinds the knot in his stomach. Ling shuts the door behind him and doesn't know what to say; he thinks if he opens his mouth just yet he'll start crying. So.

Well, alright, he can manage just one word, a little choked up-] Hey.

Hey.

[It's a small apartment, but they're all small. They're all crowded too, and this one is no different than the others: all the staff are there, even the ones Ling doesn't know too well. Tattoos blend in with bruises, cuts are tended to, and there's more than one roll of gauze hastily applied around chests and legs and arms that suggests bullet wounds are being covered.

Greed isn't injured, but of course he isn't. Just exhausted.

He hooks his fingers in one of the loops in Ling's belt, tugging him in closer, til he can wrap his arms tight around him.]

You're all right?

[Thank god he isn't injured or Ling would have lost it then and there, in front of everybody. He feels suddenly out of place again, rushing down from his uptown mansion like he has anything to do with this—

But Greed pulls him in before he can dwell on it, and Ling holds onto him just as tightly, face pressed against his chest, just taking a moment to process it; Greed is fine. He's not hurt. He's okay, he's here, he's just fine.

Finally, Ling nods.] I'm okay. Lan Fan was there— and she'll be angry that I left, hm...

[Yeah, she super will, especially now that she doesn't know where he's gone anymore. He'll deal with that later.]

Text her.

[Because everybody's nerves are on edge right now, and the last thing they need is for Lan Fan to break down a door and start a pointless fight. But though he gives that order, he doesn't actually let go of Ling. Not yet. There'll be time enough for that in a minute, but right now . . . right now he really just wants to hold him, assuring himself that out of all his people, there's one who got out unscathed.]

C'mere . . .

[It's a one bedroom apartment, but it's their one bedroom for the next hour or so. The few who are hanging around in there clear out and close the door behind them after just a look from Greed; a sort of obedience that doesn't come from the usual relationship a boss and subordinate have.

They aren't playing the roles of bartenders now, see. Which means there's a certain level of authority that Greed now carries that he hadn't before-- or at least, hadn't in front of Ling.

He moves to sit him down on the mattress, preferring to stay standing. There's a long few moments of silence, and then:]

I'm not gonna see you for a while.

[Ling hums; he'll get to texting her, surely, after he's satisfied that Greed isn't going to fall apart in his arms, or that he'll wake up and the article in the paper will read very differently, or something—

Distraught as he is, though, he doesn't not notice the way the others move aside for Greed. It's different, but somehow it doesn't surprise him; and the paper had said gang warfare, so slowly, the pieces are starting to fall into place.

He sits, phone in his hands, almost getting to the part where he tells Lan Fan what's going on, but then he looks up at Greed with all the worry and despair he's felt for the past week back on his face. No, how about not doing that—]

Why?

[The details, because the obvious is what it is.]

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