dumbshow | the critically acclaimed open post

Yeah, yeah, take it easy, Liam Neeson . . . I'm not gonna leave without you. Come back tomorrow morning, right before dawn. Call it . . . five AM, maybe, right around there. Everybody'll be going in and out of the building around that time anyway, so you shouldn't run into trouble.

[He needs to go soon, but he can wait just a minute longer. Greed's hands drag over him, fussing lightly, tugging at his clothes and smoothing back his hair.]

Be careful, all right? Whatever she decides, have her at least come with you tomorrow morning.

[To think Greed tried to separate them, when he still acts like this... laughable. Ling nods a few times, only letting go of Greed and leaning away to pick his phone up off the bed before he hugs tight around his waist again. A minute is fine; he can get a lot out of a minute, and when he leans back he looks like he might have something more to say, hesitates, then pushes up on his toes to kiss Greed quickly instead.]

I'll be back.

[And then he's gone, slipping out of the apartment and back down to the street. He does go home - climbs in through the window, avoids speaking to anyone except for Lan Fan, and that is an argument for the ages. She'll follow him anywhere, but she plainly refuses to help him pack - fair enough. Some clothes, Lan Fan's personal arsenal, the money he can get away with taking without raising suspicion—waiting until the hour before daybreak is the worst part.

When the time comes they go out the window again, Lan Fan first, and Ling pauses before tossing his bag down to her to look back at his bedroom and wonder. Something sentimental, Greed had said, and it occurs to him he doesn't have anything like that.

That's that, then. They're gone, and public transit at five in the morning is a real adventure, and then Ling shows up again at number 303 with an angry girl who's boring holes through the door with her gaze before they're even let inside. Lan Fan is having a fantastic time already.]

[Five in the morning, and Ling gets a few sleepy greetings as he heads up the stairs, because it's just as Greed had said: there's a fair few people heading out. Some of them look familiar, although distantly so; they're all changed in some way, shorter hair or scarves around their faces, keeping their identities somewhat hidden.

Some-- the more injured ones, the ones that slept on the bed last night, the ones that need a better doctor than they really have-- are still around. And Greed, of course, who is the one to answer the door, first with a gun and then with a grin as he sees who it is.]

Lan Fan!

[An enthusiastic little greeting, made entirely because she looks like she hates him.]

No trouble? C'mon, let's see what you've got--

[He jerks his head, leading them to the kitchen. There's somebody dozing there, holding a mug of coffee and perched on the counter, but Greed waves them off as they try and get up.]

Nah, nah, stay-- here. How much did you manage to get out?

[The money, he means, as he straddles a chair and sits at the kitchen table.]

[Lan Fan hates him, that's true, that doesn't even take a good eye to spot; she nearly snarls at him when he greets her, after already pulling Ling out of the way when he opens the door with a goddamn gun. She is so... unhappy with this situation. But Ling pats her on the shoulder and follows Greed inside, leaving Lan Fan to pick up the rear and linger not too close to Ling, but close enough that she could murder anyone who looked at him wrong in here.

You know, all these injured people. They could be dangerous, nursing bullet wounds like that.

Ling, on the other hand, is incredibly pumped. Possibly too excited, but then, he's always excitable. He plops his bag of stuff down on the table and rifles under some shirts before he reveals- like this is a bonafide heist movie- a bunch of stacks of cash.

Rich boy rising, possibly for the last time.]

Enough, I think. You could hire a doctor.

[A shady one, but still.]

[He whistles softly. He would've been fine if Ling hadn't grabbed anything-- annoyed, maybe, because he's rich (or was rich, whatever)-- but nor had he expected this much.]

Shit . . .

[Maybe he hadn't had to send them all out after all . . . ah, well, he'll call them back in a few weeks. It's always good to have some extra money, anyway.]

Yeah. I'll see who we can get.

[It's definitely going to be someone shady, though. But whatever! Greed takes those, rising to tuck them away in the one bedroom. Lan Fan isn't pleased by that, him just taking the money, but whatever! Suck it, Lan Fan, he's the boss now!

Besides, he has a plan.]

There's an empty building I got my eye on. Restaurants are pretty good as fronts, but kind of risky, and I hate cooking anyway. Might go for a night club . . . pity we can't do another bar, but it'd be too obvious.

[His rich boy funds are officially limited, so take care of those. Ling trails after him, motioning for Lan Fan not to stay on his heels the whole time, just relax or something— which she couldn't possibly do, but she does sit down at the table and glare after them both.

Great time. Now, it's Greed time...]

What am I going to do?

[Like, he can participate, right? That's technically his money, even if he wouldn't play that card.]

I'm still trying to figure that one out.

[Because yes, he's participating. Greed sprawls on the empty bed, beckoning Ling to join him.]

Let's say for a minute we do go with a club. What d'ya think you'd be best at?

[Nice, he gets to be important. He crawls onto the bed and curls up against Greed instantly and would have even if he hadn't been summoned. It's been a long week; they deserve this cuddling.

Now, what talents does he have besides jumping around. Hm.]

Entertainment? [Eh? No, that's nothing.] I don't know, I could wait tables?

I'm not gonna make you a stripper.

[Obviously. And he says that just gruffly enough it's clear the ideas of strippers in general, if not Ling in particular, has crossed his mind. But yes, come here, and he wraps his arms around him, pulling him atop him so he can run his hands over his back.]

Waiter's a good start. Yeah . . . you'll get a good feel for how things work, both in the club and behind the scenes, and we can go from there. Yeah, all right . . .

[God, but it's a pain in the ass to start up a new business. Greed groans softly and leans forward, burying his face against Ling's hair.]

[What if he wanted to be a stripper? He would be a terrible stripper getting by solely on his cute face and sweet ass alone, terrible plan, he'll be a waiter. He settles comfortably with one arm folded over Greed's chest, reaching for his hair with the other. This is nice, and he's quiet, enjoying the closeness, but...

After a pause,] I'm sorry about the bar.

[Ah. There's silence for a few seconds, thoughtful and calm, as he tries to think of how to best respond to this. His heart pounds too hard, his breathing coming in shorter, but his expression doesn't change. He stares at the ceiling, his eyes a little dull, before he heaves a sigh.]

Be more sorry for Ulchi.

[Because of course, that's the one corpse that had been left behind. Bullet-sprayed and their first warning that things were about to shatter. They'd thrown his corpse into the bar, and then . . . chaos, mostly. Screams and shouts, gunfire and molotov cocktails being thrown in through the broken glass, the smell of blood thick in the air . . .

Greed's fingers curl in Ling's shirt, but he keeps his temper under control for the moment.]

. . . I shoulda seen it coming. The old man was never gonna let me get away forever.

[Ah, so that's who it was, then— Ling frowns, brow furrowed, looking down and plucking idly at Greed's shirt collar just to give himself something to focus on. He wasn't there, he isn't sure how to sympathize; all he can do right now is wait for Greed to open up more about it.

—And we're getting right into the daddy issues part of the evening, well, alright. Then Ling will get right into it, as well-]

What happened between you and your father?

[He laughs, short and sharp and humorless.]

Y'know how you hear about those families where the mom gets knocked up a bunch of times because she's always wanted a set number? It's, uh, kinda like that, except my pops wanted a set number of kids who'd do shit for him.

He's got his fingers in a little bit of everything. Drugs and prostitution rings and real estate swindling, all that shit. He likes the power, you know? There's probably some whole psychological analyzing you could do on it, but all I know is, he likes being more powerful than anyone else.

[His fingers drift through Ling's hair, smoothing it out and sweeping it back.]

So. Seven kids, cuz he figured we'd be more loyal. Blood ties, you know? And hey, six outta seven isn't so bad. But I thought there was probably more to life than just running at his heels my whole life.

[It almost sounds like his own father, Ling thinks, but more criminal. And with fewer kids. And - and this is probably the big one - no attempted murder of the children.

So really, what they have in common is being complete assholes who are excellent at driving their sons away. Great. Ling hums low, leaning his head into Greed's hand and thinking.]

So you ran away. [Factual, without disapproval. It seems like the best choice he could have made, actually.] And that's as bad as insulting him to his face, I'm guessing?

Pretty much.

[He keeps moving his hand, soothed by the steady rhythm and the warmth of Ling above him.]

He'd like it best if I came back alive, I think, but fuck that. I'd rather keep running than ever go back to working for him.

[A beat, and he bares his teeth in a grin.]

At least he showed me how to run a gang real well.

[That's his Greed... always thinking about, uh, crime.]

Ah, you know, this explains a lot about why nobody would talk to me when I first came downtown.

[Thugs... thugs he now loves and cherishes, but thugs.]

You're lucky you're cute. Everybody wanted to jump you the first night.

[Oh, how they'll probably laugh about that someday.]

But yeah . . . nobody knew what the hell you were doing there, if you were somebody sent from somebody else or what.

[Cool... everyone wanted to mug him... Like, he sort of knew, but good to really know?]

Well, thank you for not mugging me in the alley...? I think.

I told you: if I'm gonna do anything to you in that alley, it's not gonna be mug you.

[His hand slides down, patting his ass gently. This, this is what he's talking about, in case Ling wasn't aware. And talking about this is way more preferable than focusing on his father or his siblings or what the hell they're going to do once Father gets sick of chasing after him, so well done, Ling.]

You were so scandalized the first time I brought that up.

[The word is disgusted.]

[Alley sex, still his favorite topic. He sticks out his tongue, to emphasize that he's still scandalized. And the alley isn't really the same anymore, but never mind that, just pat him on the ass some more--]

People vomit there all week long. I don't think I'm being unreasonable!

They do not, don't exaggerate. Most people've got a way better tolerance for you.

[He does indeed keep patting his ass, or at least settling his hands there to grope indiscriminately.]

Look, you gotta at least have some idea of what I'm talking about, you're dating me.

Yes, and you haven't taken me to the alley even once.

[His big, tough gang leader who is soft deep down, at least where Ling is concerned. Even while groping his ass. Ling can tell. He tilts his head up to kiss affectionately at Greed's jaw.

Local man not impressed by dumpsters and broken bottles, news at 11.]

I oughta just tell you that that's the only place I'll fuck you, you'd change your tune quick.

[He squeezes his ass for emphasis. Exhibit A: thirsty virgin arching his back to get touched a little more. But he's smiling now, some of his grief and rage and fear suppressed for the moment. Greed tips his head into that kiss, humming softly in pleasure.]

Nah. The first time I fuck you, it's gonna be somewhere good. Maybe my apartment, once we can go back there. I wanted to fuck you in your bed, make you be quiet so none of your bodyguards or your parents could hear--

[Speaking of which, hey, Lan Fan is probably right outside the door, having to listen to this shit, sorry gurl]

--but now, yeah, my apartment. Start real early in the evening so I can work you over at least three times. Maybe blow you the first time, let you come real fast while you fuck my mouth . . . because when I fuck you, I want you to last. I want to watch you while you fall apart beneath me, til you're begging me for more of what you're already getting . . .

[Hmmmmm, now who's thirsty.]

[Lan Fan has to listen to this and she is suffering, but so is Ling in a completely different way. He wasn't going to angle for fucking in the world's nastiest apartment with a dozen injured gang members and Lan Fan four feet away, of course he wasn't, but goddamn if Greed talking like that doesn't do it for him. Is there a cold shower in here... he can't get laid until Greed's apartment is safe...]

"At least three times"? [Okay, that's actually a little funny, does Greed have an itemized schedule of what that dick do--] That's only two. What's the third time like?

[Tell him, thirsty boy, really make his day and ruin Lan Fan's. Ling covers his face and neck with kisses more generously, squirming a little on top of him encouragingly.]

Yeah, at least three times, don't talk back or you won't get any at all.

[Honestly, Ling! But those kisses make up for it, as does all that squirming, hello, he likes that a whole lot. His hands shift, gripping his hips so he can yank him down as he rocks his own hips up, creating a heated sort of friction for the two of them.

Fucking hell, he thinks distantly, and tips his head to catch Ling in a heated kiss. Against his mouth, then:]

Mm-- I still haven't decided the third time. Maybe I'll see if I can talk you up to finishing. Or just bend you over something, see how long you could stand not knowing what was happening.

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