open post: in a slightly hazy lounge

[peaklordshen]

After a few false starts, Shen Qingqiu has found a proper place to test out Crowley's BL pollen vape pen.

He posts up in one of the lounges, close enough to the bar that anyone leaving there might find him. He's still in his braid and loose robes - no one else had noticeably started dressing gayer¹ when they took the stuff, intentional or not, so neither will he. He also brings snacks,² and the next book in the Blood at Dusk series, Moonless Midnight, in case it takes a while to kick in, or a while for anyone to come along to prove it has, anyway. If no one finds him here he will go looking, but roaming the Mansion's halls newly homosexual feels like a much more risky prospect than just staying put and seeing what happens.

He arrays himself on a couch, feet tucked up under him (although this might not be immediately apparent due to the robes), Crowley's pen tucked behind one ear so he can make more notes now that he has a glimmer of a chance that Binghe will forgive him,³ and takes a drag on the vape.

He coughs. It's smoke, not pollen—the blooms must be dried and then burned, like with tobacco—and has an odd, kind of greenish flavor. Not unpleasant, but not pleasant, either. He expected it to taste of, like. Cherry blossom, or something. Pink rather than green. Shit, maybe he is a little homophobic.

He takes another drag, and lets the smoke out of his mouth slowly this time, watching it curl up to the ceiling.

By the time anyone finds him, he will be staring unblinking at the opposite wall, book open on his lap to the third page of the first chapter.

[Threads with Sagramore and Luo Binghe are NSFW.]

¹ Please explain what you mean by this, Shen Qingqiu. I'll wait.
² Crowley did tell him to.
³ After he confirms that the pollen works. And goes to find Binghe. And kisses him. And— well. Maybe. After. He can raise the book club idea again?

Comments

[sagramore]

"Let me at least close the door first," not without another teasing touch first, to be sure Shen Qingqiu knows it's not a rejection.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu supposes this would be a good time to put on the brakes, so to speak, but this could be his only chance to be gay. He doesn't want to waste it. So while Sagramore closes the door he undoes the ties of his robes, letting them slip from his shoulders and pool around his waist. He doesn't know what Sagramore is getting out of this, really, but he knows this body is handsome; maybe he'll enjoy seeing more of it.

[sagramore]

Sagramore stops to admire him, gazing at him softly -- he can't entirely help himself from thinking that this is how Shen Qingqiu wants to present himself to Luo Binghe, but if he's trying to practice first, that's his right. And Sagramore knows he's a good first time; he's careful and attentive and he'll worry about Shen Qingqiu, who he thinks could do with more people to worry about him.

He joins Shen Qingqiu on the couch again, bending for a kiss, and runs his hands over Shen Qingqiu's chest appreciatively.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu kisses him back, making little pleased noises into it, but catches his hands when he starts touching again. "Your shirt," he reminds him.

[sagramore]

He laughs, with a little grin. "Ah, thy pardon, sir," and pulls his tunic off over his head. The large bruise around his ribs is faded now to yellow, and otherwise he looks as he always does, not that Shen Qingqiu should know -- lean and wiry, well-muscled in his arms, his chest hair greying, and marked with innumerable little scars.

[peaklordshen]

"Much better," says Shen Qingqiu, and lays his hands, a little wondering, on Sagramore's chest in turn. He traces over the scars, ghosts his fingertips over the healing bruise, absently sending enough qi to finish the process, and remembers doing the same to a smaller, angrier Sagramore. The thought fills him with unspeakable, full-body tenderness, and he leans up to kiss him again, soft and thorough.

[sagramore]

Sagramore pulls him into his lap again, hitching their bodies together, and murmurs to him, mostly endearments.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu rocks against him, luxuriating in the feeling of their bare chests together, in the strength of Sagramore's arms, in the deep murmur of his voice. He nuzzles the skin under Sagramore's ear, drags his mouth over it hot and wet, even gets up his courage to suck, though not hard.¹ He's hard; he's been hard for a long time, maybe since Sagramore kissed him the very first time, but he spends so little time thinking about his dick when he's straight² that it hasn't become urgent until now, with their bodies flush, when he realizes he's not the only one, and that's dizzying, the sudden power of that, the proof that Sagramore is getting something out of this, that he is wanted, that this isn't just—some favor, done out of the kindness of Sagramore's endlessly kind heart.

¹More out of concern for not hurting him than not to leave marks for anyone else to see—he's not exactly thinking about that right now.
² Absolutely never thinking about or doing anything with your dick is sooo normal straight man of you dude you're so right

[sagramore]

"There, my heart," softly, letting his hands drift lower. "Dost know that thou likest?"

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu doesn't know how to answer that question. There's something in the back of his brain, somewhere, that worries if he goes too far with Sagramore, does something too gay, it will break the BL pollen's curse. That's how it works with most of the stupid wifeplot plants in Proud Immortal Demon Way. And he can't let that happen with Sagramore—if it happens, it has to happen with Binghe. Of course, if he gets to too gay levels with Binghe, the Heavenly Pillar will cure him anyway—but he redirects his brain. That isn't fair. That's breaking some kind of gay code, probably, thinking about another man's dick when there's what feels like a very lovely one much closer at hand.

Speaking of hand. Hands are great; he loves hands. Handjobs between bros aren't even gay. And Sagramore is his bro, the best one he has here, handsome and charming and funny and sweet and solid and gorgeous against him, and Shen Qingqiu slips a hand between them to explore, tracing the hot weight of him through his trousers. He bites his lips at the feeling of it against his palm, letting out a little shaky sigh.

[sagramore]

His breath catches a little, enough for him to swallow his next question for the moment in favor of shifting against Shen Qingqiu's hand.

[peaklordshen]

Emboldened, Shen Qingqiu presses a kiss to Sagramore's stubbled cheek—mmh, that's nice, he gets distracted for a moment— and then lets his questing fingers figure out how the ties to Sagramore's trousers work, slipping his hand inside.

[sagramore]

"Thou'rt so good," softly; and he drops his hands to help with his laces and braies. "My heart. Christ, I want the best for thee--"

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu pulls back to smile at him. "Thou'rt giving me the best," he says, and somehow trying to match Sagramore's sincerity feels way more vulnerable than wrapping a hand around his dick. He ducks his head, after, embarrassed.

[sagramore]

He laughs softly, and tips Shen Qingqiu's face up to kiss him. "Hast learned my language for me, sweet-heart."

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu kisses him back, making little grumbling sounds at the endearment¹ and implication that this is somehow sweet of him to do, when he's only trying to reflect any at all of Sagramore's own sweetness—but he's too focused on wanting to do a good job at his first time touching someone else's dick to really protest. He wishes he could see it in his hand, but doesn't want to move enough to actually make that happen; the mental image is overwhelming enough, Shen Qingqiu's long fingers curling around him—Shen Yuan's hands had been smaller, he thinks, and then banishes that thought entirely in favor of nipping, lightly, at Sagramore's mouth.

¹ This means he extra likes it.

[sagramore]

He laughs again, letting Shen Qingqiu take the lead, and rocks into his hand; when Shen Qingqiu nips at him his breath hitches again and this time he kisses back harder, more purposefully.

[peaklordshen]

Oh, thinks Shen Qingqiu, and he meets Sagramore's kisses with his own, eagerly, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth and adding a twist to his wrist, because he likes that, and that's all he has to go on. "Is this," he asks, cheeks hot, and then kisses him again to get up the courage for (most of) the second half of the question. "Do you like—"

[sagramore]

"Yes, very much, but let me show thee--" He covers Shen Qingqiu's hand with his own. "Thou canst take me here like this, and grip a little harder-- there's good-- thou hast splendid hands."

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu kisses him to stop the compliments, still embarrassed—they're not even really his hands—and does as Sagramore directs, his own hips working, a little, in sympathetic, frustrated rhythm.

[sagramore]

"My heart, my heart--" When he kisses back he pins Shen Qingqiu a little against the back of the couch, letting some of his weight rest against him, testing.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu lets him, willingly, groaning a little against his mouth at the increased friction.

[sagramore]

"There's well," he breathes, and bows his head to take one of Shen Qingqiu's nipples in his mouth.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu is making very embarrassing noises, but he's too gay to stop. It's all he can do to keep stroking Sagramore like he was instructed, the rest of him strung on a constantly-plucked wire between the friction of his hips and the wet heat of Sagramore's mouth.

[sagramore]

He switches place after a while, though his fingers take up where his mouth left off, and he doesn't stop until the tell-tale stutter of his hips, when he tucks his face against Shen Qingqiu's neck and spills into his hand.