Shen Yuan (peerlesscucumber) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
peaklordshen) wrote2023-10-27 02:51 pm
peaklordshen) wrote2023-10-27 02:51 pm
open post: in a slightly hazy lounge
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?
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?
no subject
That's--Bingge. He opens his eyes. Bingge, one arm flung across his stomach, Shen Qingqiu's hand in his hair. He looks so sweet, in sleep, the gravitas and power he wields effortlessly in his waking life fading away and leaving just--a man, handsome and vulnerable like any other man at rest, his forehead smooth of worries, his full mouth relaxed into what could, from some angles, be mistaken for a smile.
The dawn is grey through the windows. If Shen Qingqiu were a wife in truth--if he didn't need the pollen; if Bingge cared for him as more than a novelty, a revelation, the only man here from his own world that Bingge could show his mastery over; he would be able to stay. He would be able to kiss Binghe awake and then keep kissing him, would be able to tease until Binghe pressed him to the bed again. Binghe would still move on, of course, still chase after some brighter star, but he would have--days, probably, maybe weeks with how slowly Binghe has been moving since they got here.
But--instead he had one night, and now he needs to go.
He carefully disentangles himself from Binghe's arms and slips out of bed, replacing his body with one of Binghe's many pillows. He notices the copy of Blood at Dusk by the bedside. Ah. Binghe, ever thoughtful, must be returning it to him, putting it somewhere where he would see when he woke up so he would know to take it when he left. That, too, confirms what he already believed; this is the right move, the expected one, to sneak out before Binghe wakes.
He takes a last look at him; the dark sweep of his lashes on his cheeks, the striking crimson mark at the center of his forehead. He remembers the way he shivered, when he kissed it last night; he can't help but lean down to do it again, ever so softly, so he won't wake him up, and then he gathers his things and flees.