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[appliances]

assorted shitty people

☆ @ the muselist

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme ☆ little steps meme ☆ affectionate physical contact meme ☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy ☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU ☆ melodrama is ultimate tier ★ SHIPPING AND FILTHY THINGS: ☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh ☆ things I won't rp: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character ☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty ☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

Comments

[moochobliged]

[Oh please, Ling knows his boyfriend is a huge baby. At the very least, he's talking, and that's something— he can work with this, though he has to bite the inside of his cheek to resist laughing at Greed's embarrassment. It's cute, despite everything.]

What do you mean, why? [This guy-- how could Ling even possibly not be in love with him? Please.] Because... I do. Because you're sweet- [well] to me, anyway, and I like that.

[So much, in fact. He nuzzles his face into the crook of Greed's neck, affectionately. Just cuddle and listen to him, babe.]

I like being with you! You're smart, and strong, and you make me happy. Isn't that enough?

[cupiditates]

It's--

[Yes, and yet no all at once. He twists, cuddling right back against him, burying his face against his shoulder.]

. . . what makes that love and not just-- just having a good time?

[moochobliged]

[Boy, these issues sure run deeper than he thought, huh. How does he explain love...]

Well, I still love you even when you're being an ass...? [If he were just having a good time, he'd have already left when the "good time" part stopped, see? If only Ling knew the phrase "ride or die," he'd make ample use of it and sound like a moron.]

Why did you say you love me? Be honest!

[Give it a whirl, babe.]

[cupiditates]

[His mouth opens, a hot exhale against damp skin, before he changes his mind and goes silent for a few seconds. He wants to say this right, and that means not just letting whatever inane thoughts go straight from conception to his mouth without any kind of filter.

Why does he love him? A lot of reasons, really, both big and small. For his determination, his imagination, his ambition and his kindness. For the way he's so bold, so friendly, so endearingly naive and wonderfully enthusiastic. For all the faces he makes, giddily aroused or obviously delighted; condescendingly amused or arrogantly challenging. He loves him for the way he fusses and whines over the least little thing and then puts in his all without complaint when something truly difficult comes up. He loves him for his stupid long hair, his long torso and flexible limbs, his beaming face and pretty smile. And his clothes, his eyes, and another thousand things.

But it seems exhausting and far too vulnerable to say all of that.

His thumb massages Ling's hip.]

Don't get soppy about this.

[Gruffly said. But then:]

. . . you're-- you've got a lot of things I like. But I said it because . . . you're about the only person I want to keep close to me all the time. I like hearing what you think, even if it's about stupid shit. And it's . . . it's easier, it's better, when I've got you next to me.

[moochobliged]

[Okay, so Greed knows exactly what he's talking about, and he's just being difficult about Ling saying it for some other reason. Ling can't help but think that even as his heart swells and he grins foolishly against Greed's neck-- getting soppy, of course. He can't help it, especially not when Greed is being so genuine and sweet about him. It's endearing; the man has such a way about him, powerful and charismatic enough to turn every head in a room and keep Ling coming back to him again and again, drawn in as if by some force (or some thirst)... and then he drops all of that entirely for this, vulnerable and soft, and Ling's heart all but melts.

Being in love with Greed is pretty great, he's decided.]

I know what you mean. [He says this instead of his first instinct, which is just, "same."] I did tell you I want to stay with you, remember? I meant it! I'll stay with you forever, if you'll have me.

[Which is, hm, somehow more serious than the literal act of leaving everything behind to be with Greed, and Ling wiggles in his lap with a sudden burst of nervous energy.]

What do you think?

[cupiditates]

I think I'm dating a fox sometimes with how much you move around--

[He grabs his hip more tightly, stopping that wiggling as soon as it starts. It's a playful action, a tease more than a real reprimand, and that makes it easier to tip his head back and meet Ling's gaze.]

. . . people don't stick around much.

[He says it carefully, without self-pity, as his other hand lifts. Fingers trace gently over his cheek, smoothing back the little strands of hair that have fallen loose.]

But . . . if you still want to be around in a year, in two years . . . I'd like to have you.

[moochobliged]

[No, don't squeeze, let him wiggle-- Greed looks at him and he flushes pink, leaning his cheek into that touch. People don't stick around much-- he can't believe it, when Greed has done so much for him and made him as happy as he does.]

Two years? You can have more than that.

[That's the whole point! He has to at least get to legal drinking age and celebrate--]

You don't still think I'm going to leave you, do you?

[cupiditates]

[He takes in a breath, a short sharp inhale, and then speaks. It's the most minor of pauses, but it's enough to betray that yes, he most certainly does think that.]

Let's start with two or three years, sweetheart.

[moochobliged]

[Oh. That would sting if he thought it was something about him, and not some issue Greed hasn't told him about in great enough detail-- it still makes him feel a little down, but it's... he'll work on it.]

Upgraded to three years! [Thrilling!!! He squeezes in close to nuzzle against Greed again.] I can't wait.

[cupiditates]

[His head turns, his mouth catching Ling's in a swift kiss. It's hard and hungry, a sudden surge in passion if not lust, and he presses their foreheads together as he breaks it, panting softly.]

I love you.

[Whispered, and he bumps their noses together, his mouth moving in a soft kiss. It's not you, even if he can't articulate that sentiment just yet.]

Too much.

[moochobliged]

[There he is-- that's his Greed, always just a little more intense than he's expecting. He leans into each kiss, drinking it all in, humming against his lips.]

No such thing as too much, [murmured softly, and it's Ling's turn to kiss him harder now, pointed.] I'm not going anywhere.

[cupiditates]

[He wants desperately to believe him. But more than that, he's afraid to believe him. There's some quiet part of his heart absolutely convinced he's setting himself up to be hurt later on in life. That despite the fact Ling so clearly believes what he's saying, he'll change his mind sooner or later. That he ought to just laugh and shove him away and keep this as casual as he possibly can.

But the problem with that is that he doesn't want to. Ling's words are like a siren song, sweet and soft, luring him in ever closer. He brushes their lips together softly, his eyes half-closing. There's a long silence, and then:]

I know.

I trust you.

dips toes back into this monster thread

[moochobliged]

[Well, good, that's all settled! Can they have some fun, now? Maybe? Ling manages to keep his, ah, plucky attitude in check, lest Greed get sensitive about how quickly he bounces back from these serious topics-- but talking about it over and over isn't going to change anything. Talking is nothing; it's doing that's going to prove to Greed he's in it for the long haul. Being here, being part of the new club, everything else counts more, probably, than saying he will a dozen times.

So!!]

Great! [And he hugs him again, squishing their faces together, clinging tightly for a few seconds before he lets go and leans back to look Greed in the face.] I'll make you happy, just wait and see! You can't stop me!

[Happiness: a threat.]

[cupiditates]

You're ridiculous.

[A scoffing dismissal, but he can't help smiling faintly. And then a grin, larger, as he leans in to kiss him senseless. He's still got to take care of him, after all, can't forget about that, he'd be an absolute shit boyfriend if he didn't get him off, now come here--

They stay up far too late after that. Not just fucking (although that's a great deal of what they do, tangled limbs and muffled moans, his mouth dragging over every inch of Ling he can reach, gripping his hips and pinning him down just so he can marvel at the size difference between the two of them, on and on and on), but talking. Aimlessly, stupidly; chatting about nothing at all, because after a heavy conversation, it's good to reconnect. To assure one another that yes, things are still all right. That they're still all right, and nothing has changed, not really.

I love you, Ling says more than once, but it's only once they turn out the light and he's gathered his boyfriend up close that Greed can return the sentiment. Soft, murmured against the back of his neck, a sweet little secret for just the two of them.

The club starts, and that keeps them busy for a little while. It's hard work being a manager; harder still when he has to keep an eye out for Ling, working with his hands for the first time in his life. He makes for a good waiter, though; people like him, he's cheerful and agreeable and quick, and he gets plenty of tips. Greed's going to train him as bartender soon, because he'd do wonders back there.

Weeks pass. It's dull, but in the best possible way; dull because life is simple and easy, dull because they go to work and come home and spend time together, and life takes on a wonderful, steady pattern. They move back into his apartment, and oh, that does wonders: it's much easier to get on when they've an entire loft to share.

They're in his loft that night. It's two in the morning, which means the club is still open, but at least they're not at work. Which doesn't really sit well by Greed; it's one thing for a waiter to have the night off, another for the manager to be sitting at home. But he misses hanging out with his boyfriend when they're not at work.]

Hey.

[He glances over. He's in the kitchen area, trying his best to do something with some rice. Possibly it will be fried rice by the end of this. Who knows.]

Nobody's been bothering you at work, right?