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Oh, fuck--

[That's for that move with his tongue, obscenely unfair given how this is his first time. Obscenely attractive, too; it's not that he has a virginity kink, exactly, but there's something hot about the clash of cheerful innocence and fierce sexuality that makes him groan. He can't help but buck his hips once or twice, stuttering little things that come as Ling yanks him closer.

For all his earlier care, he forgets to give a warning, but on the other hand, he doesn't actually come in his mouth at all: instead, he rakes his fingers through his hair and grips tight, tipping his head back and freeing his mouth. His other hand wraps around his prick, and one, two strokes are all he needs before he's finishing on Ling's face.

. . . which probably isn't great for a person's first time, but oh, well. He looks fucking amazing like that, so it's worth whatever trouble he gets in.

[He's inexperienced, not pure as the driven snow. It's absolutely ego-boosting to get these reactions out of Greed, big and rough and a thousand times more experienced than he is, and Ling is going for it right up until Greed pulls him away. He makes a noise, caught somewhere between disappointed to be pulled back and enjoying the tight grip in his hair, and—

And Greed comes on his face, which, okay, he should have expected in those few moments in between, but somehow it still takes him by surprise. He'd be angrier if Greed finished in his fucking eye, but mercifully Ling is spared that much.]

Ah, [he says, brilliantly, and nudges Greed back a step a second time so he can use his hips to drag himself back to his feet and turn to put his face under the water. Enjoy these precious seconds before he is clean again, then he'll go back to his boundless adoration.

Actually... he would love to crawl into bed and stare at Greed for the rest of his life, but first, over his shoulder,] Want to wash my hair?

[There's still paint in it.]

[He makes a soft noise of disappointment, because he really would have loved to admire that for a while, but it's fine. There'll be other times. Maybe he'll even get to take a photo someday, that'd be a hell of a thing.

For now: he watches him with undisguised fondness as he cleans himself. He hasn't enough energy to put on a smirk when he turns around, and huffs a laugh.]

Sure.

[He has a lot of paint in his hair, and so there's a certain satisfaction to be found as he pours shampoo in his hands and threads his fingers through Ling's hair. For once, he's mercifully silent. He wants to ask after Ling, to check in and see if he's all right, but he'll let the kid talk in his own time.]

[Not until Ling finally gets his fabled dick pic, Greed. Then, maybe. For now it's hair time, and he has a lot of hair, too, and relaxes instantly under Greed's hands with a pleased little hum. Petting him and kissing him is sweet, true, but washing his hair is just as good.

Now, he definitely shouldn't be left alone with his thoughts to fill this lull in conversation. The first thing he says is fine, genuine, without any overshadow of lust:] I'm glad you let me stay with you.

[But with that out of the way!! Greed wanted to hear his fancy education voice say inappropriate things once upon a time, so here,] Your dick is huge.

[These aren't mutually exclusive terms, but he means for them to be right now. Damn, Greg!!]

[The resulting laugh is loud enough to echo off the tiles, and he tugs lightly on Ling's hair, half in teasing and half in mock scandal. He's still got his fingers soapy and knotted in Ling's hair, but he still leans down, nipping at his neck.]

That better not be a complaint.

[And then, as he worries a mark against a bit of bare skin:]

And I haven't even fucked you yet . . .

[Well, now whoever came home definitely knows they're in here, if it wasn't already obvious. Ling tuts when he's pulled again - there's only so much he can take! - but it turns into a chuckle.]

It's not! It's a compliment!

[He's only expressing his appreciation! He tilts his head to make more room for Greed to get at his skin without getting a mouthful of hair.]

I had fun! [sucking......dick. yes.]

Good.

[Murmured against wet skin, as one hand half-heartedly keeps working its way through Ling's hair, washing it.]

Because that's the least of what we're gonna do together, y'know. Especially once I get my apartment back . . . you're gonna get an education like you've never had before.

[Please try to take good care of his hair, at least... not that Ling helps with this at all, leaning his head back against Greed's shoulder with a curious hum.]

Oh? Are you going to grade me? How did I do just now? Be honest!

Hmm . . .

[He pulls his head back, which at least makes washing . . . slightly easier? Though the way Ling is twisting doesn't help. But whatever, he's not all that focused on hair right now; one arm snakes around his hips, pulling him in closer.]

An A for enthusiasm. A B- for technique. Pretty damn good for your first time, which I'm betting means you watch a lot of porn.

[He'll twist as much as he wants, he's bendy. But a B- is so low... he has high standards.]

I dabble. [Hmm, hmm-] Especially all those times you riled me up on purpose! I had to make it work somehow...

[He huffs, a little indignant, but only just. Sexy showering is a good start, certainly.]

[He laughs, quietly delighted that he was the cause, that Ling was thinking of him the entire time.]

What are you huffing about, huh? You just got laid, you can't be mad about being teased. Duck your head forward, c'mere--

[At least the paint's out.]

[Of course he's delighted by that, and he's not wrong; Ling has been more than a little needy, these past weeks. He ducks his head accordingly with another huffy little noise.]

Youuu... are being difficult! Do you want me to say you got an A+? Of course you did.

Be honest!

[It's a high-pitched little imitation of Ling's voice, and he wraps both arms around him, preventing any quick attempts at retaliation. And hello, it's always nice to be so pressed up against him, and he tips his head, nipping at his ear.]

An A+ for a guy who's never done anything before. Most virgins get a D, brat, so stop sulking.

Besides: you did see me finish, yeah? I couldn't exactly fake that.

[Wow, this attitude!! Flatly:] I noticed. You really stuck the landing.

[Gross... at least let him know in advance, next time, and "I did it last time haha" is not considered advance notice. Watch as Ling chooses to make this sticky joke instead of the obvious getting-a-D joke; truly he is an intellectual.

For a few minutes it's all well and good to stand pressed together like this, but soon enough, his legs are starting to go a little jelly, again...]

Remember when I said I wasn't tired? That was then, so...

Mmhmm . . .

[He is unrepentant, for the record, for how he finished. It was sexy, Ling looked great, it worked out for everyone. He'll warn him next time, sure, but he has no regrets.

And of course Ling is tired; it'd be a miracle if he wasn't.]

Stay there.

[Because he has to dry himself off first, lest they both slip and fall and die. But it's a quick thing; just a brisk wipe, then he ties a towel around his hips (walking around with nothing on is a bit much, even for him, or at least when he's sharing a space with so many others) and hoists Ling up, guiding his legs around his hips.

He can dry in bed, he thinks vaguely, not really aware of just how wet long hair really is. For now: Ling gets dropped into bed, and then there's a few minutes of finding some boxers before Greed joins him. It's still light out, he cannot possibly fall asleep just yet, but at least he can lie there with him.

So they do. Ling clings to him, long limbs settling in place, his face buried in the crook of Greed's neck. He glides his fingers down his spine, a careful, slow pattern, and smiles faintly as he hears his breathing settling.

Perhaps he's asleep. Perhaps he's just dozing. But either way, he's not fully paying attention, so:]

I'm glad you stayed too, brat.

[God, his hair is going to be wet for hours, Greed!! This is the worst! Or: Ling whines until he's released to at least comb it back into a new ponytail, wet... he'll complain again when it dries with a crease in it, so look forward to that. Then it's back to the journey to bed, and he absolutely revels in Greed's attention. Not that he thought he'd be immediately abandoned to his nap, but he's sleepy and satisfied and even clingier than usual for it.

He even hums and squirms a few times, appreciative of the fingers against his back. It's all very soft and intimate, made even more so by the light shining through the blinds and Ling trying his very best to stay awake for as much Greed time as he can get. It's going great, which is to say - he's definitely dozing off sooner rather than later.

But he's still somewhat aware of the world when Greed speaks again, and to be honest he doesn't really comprehend the words, but the tone is sweet and so Ling sleepily wiggles a hand up, eyes still closed, to bop Greed on the nose.]

Keeping you, [he murmurs, and then,] Mine.

[And then there's about five seconds before he's out cold, so if Greed is going to have some kind of paranoid issue about that, he'll have to do it later. Ling sleeps well into the evening, after Greed has gone back to do his boss man stuff, and he only emerges squinting from the bedroom sometime after more people have come back to the apartment and some manner of dinner has been had.

Is this why Ling is up? He sensed food in his sleep? Don't question it. Lan Fan will be on him in seconds to make sure he's fed and mutter something in his ear that seemingly wakes him up a little more, but he elects not to share in a room full of people.

Later, when people have cleared off to sleep, or drink, or whatever they do, he casually announces around some takeout,] I've been disinherited for running away!

[How......... fun!! Make the rest of that cash count, babe.]

[He does panic a little after Ling falls asleep, which is why he then throws himself into work. Things are going well; his people have settled into their jobs, and are bringing home a little more than their fair share, which means they'll be able to come back home for good soon.

There's a fair few things discussed, politics and business and suggestions, and a lot of work getting done. But then people are heading out again, and Ling wanders out, and oh, god, but he looks cute like that, all sleepy and confused, bruises on his neck and Greed's shirt on . . . Lan Fan grabs him before Greed can, which is probably for the best.

They're eating takeout Chinese, and Greed is just wondering if it'd be weird to ask how this tastes compared to real Chinese food when Ling speaks.

And . . . oh, he thinks. It's not exactly a shock, no, but still he lowers his fork, watching Ling carefully. There's got to be some emotional reaction, right? He doesn't care much about the people within his family, but he'd been hellbent on raising them up as a whole. So surely there has to be some emotional fallout from that.]

They give you a formal notice or something?

[Or give Lan Fan, maybe . . . how does an official disinheritance even work?]

[The Chinese food is tolerable; Ling will eat anything, after all, and he's incredibly hungry after his incredible thirst. All he wants to do now is lean against Greed and eat his vegetables, but he's gone and relayed the bad news and now he has to deal with it. It stings in a way he can't help and doesn't like; individually, the members of his family can go fuck themselves, more or less. As a whole? They can go fuck themselves, too!

But he was doing something with it, and alright, he really wasn't planning on going back but he thought it might take more time than this to cut him off completely. It's a hit to his pride more than anything else, a bitter feeling in his stomach reserved for failure and the distinct shame of being told, no matter how indirectly, that you aren't needed anymore.

So that's that. He has Greed and he has Lan Fan; he's happy here with cheap Chinese takeout and cramped showers, the two of them make it worth it even without the others' added help— but if it didn't bother him at all to be cut off, well, he wouldn't bring it up.

He shrugs.]

Lan Fan was contacted while... [they fooled around in the shower, which can be implied, but for Lan Fan's sake he will not just blurt it out. Implying it!!] I guess I'm not worth speaking to in person anymore!

[ha ha FUCK these guys]

Or they're not worth seeing.

[Because if anyone's at fault here, it isn't Ling. Greed watches him for a few more seconds, then jerks back, pulling out from the table.]

C'mere.

[Come sit in his lap, babe.]

Well—hmm. [Well, maybe he should give this more thought— Not that it's his fault or anything like that, but a little more thought!!

He does set his takeout box down, shift himself over to Greed's lap, and pick up the food again. Hey.]

[Hey. That's pretty much what he was thinking, and he slings an arm around his hips, nosing lightly against his shoulder.]

They're shit.

[He says it simply, with a quiet conviction. Because he knows, honestly. He knows how it feels to spitefully cut off your family and yet feel abandoned by them; how that sense of loss can twist in you. He remembers, and then he remembers burying it under years of flippancy and fury.]

And they never did anything for you. Right?

[Hm, well, cuddling does help. And calling everybody shit helps too, in its own way— at least he's here with Greed! So it could be worse, but for now - that hollow feeling still sits in his stomach, waiting for... something to happen.

He doesn't know what, but something. Maybe he torches the nice car he used to drive around, that'd be fun.]

Nothing besides hand out money, no. Not like you.

[Any other time, he'd absolutely leap on that. Not like you, he'd crow about his own allure and magnetism and bully Ling into complimenting him again and again.

But today . . . he leans up, nipping at one of the bruises adorning his neck.]

And you don't like them. Right? Daddy didn't pay you any attention, your siblings were shit . . . right?

[Cheer him up with goofy posturing later, thanks. For now he hums and leans into Greed, poking chopsticks dully at his food. Hmm.]

That's right. I never want to see them again— but admittedly, I didn't expect it to be so... abrupt.

Yeah.

[His fingers slide sedately up his stomach, slipping beneath his oversized shirt to drag against his skin. It's not a lecherous touch, for once; just skin-on-skin contact, soothing and intimate. There's silence for a long few seconds, and then, his voice low and intent:]

Listen to me. You know I don't lie, kiddo, so don't take this as pandering.

But the real answer to all of this is that you're too good for them. I'm not saying that to make you feel good, I'm telling you: you're better than them, and that freaks them out. You're too ambitious and too smart, and they knew you'd outshine em in an instant. There's some families that just want you for what you can do for them, and the second you decide that isn't for you or you pick a different path, they throw you out. And it feels like shit, but that doesn't mean it wasn't the right thing to do.

[He glares moodily at Ling's back, his grip on him tightening.]

But the answer they're gonna give you, and the answer you're gonna hear a lot, is that you got booted because you're ungrateful. Or you're immature, or you don't know what you're doing, or you're being stupid, or . . . whatever. Whatever they tell themselves to make themselves feel better at night. And just because they say it doesn't mean it's true.

And the way you know they're wrong is because a family-- a real family-- sticks with you, even when you're being an asshole and things aren't going great. That's why you still see everyone hanging around this piece of shit apartment.

You understand?

Edited 2018-05-31 20:09 (UTC)

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