Closetowitty



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    Lan Zhan is silent for a long moment, and the van's speakers quietly pipe the second song on the album into the empty space between them. Then Lan Zhan shifts his hand a little on Wei Ying's leg, presses his fingers once into the meat of his thigh. "Alright," he says.

    "Alright," Wei Ying echoes in a wheeze.

    "Is that better?" Lan Zhan checks, because he is a good boy. Then he spreads his fingers out a little wider, because he is evil and must be stopped.

    -

    Lan Zhan is driving to Chicago. Wei Ying tags along.

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    12 Apr 2022

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    Shen Qingqiu is given the task to go westward to retrieve sutras in an effort to cheer him up. That's going to be a no for him. There’s nothing he hates more than road trips. He prefers to wallow at home, thank you!

    Liu Qingge fidgets in the corner. It’s clear he’s awkwardly rehearsing something in his head. It finally comes out as, "I would...prefer... shixiong to accompany me."

    Oh. Well...

    How is he supposed to say no to that?

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    09 Apr 2022

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    Luo Binghe feels the warmth of the aromatic wine still swimming within him. It takes every fibre in his being right now not to pounce on Shen Qingqiu.


    “Don’t you ever make that pathetic face again,” Shen Qingqiu says, and moves his hands to bury them in Luo Binghe’s hair. He tugs, pulling Luo Binghe’s head back to look down at him. “Not when you know that this one loves you.”

    “Shizun!” Their exchange makes sense and it doesn’t. Luo Binghe is too warm to care; it feels like there’s a laugh coursing through his body.

    “Shizun this, shizun that,” Shen Qingqiu drops his hands, and chooses to loop his arms around Luo Binghe’s shoulders instead. “What happened to you always crying because you want to call me husband?”

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    08 Apr 2022

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    There is not a lot that can be denied to Mobei Jun. It seems to be cemented by the way that Shang Qinghua falls into bed with him. Yet it seems that while Shang Qinghua will willingly give up his body, Mobei Jun will never hold his heart.

    Mobei Jun gets drunk off the other man’s body, sinks into it, revels in it and unspools as much pleasure as possible between them. Yet, when he grazes his teeth over the small patch of skin where he could leave his mark, Shang Qinghua always rebuffs him with a nervous laugh.

    “My king,” Shang Qinghua exhales, breath hot against Mobei Jun’s lips. “It really wouldn’t be proper to do that to a servant.”

    Mobei Jun does not care, but he can sense the layered meaning— Shang Qinghua does not want Mobei Jun to do it to him, does not want to push the physical gratification over the edge into something more.

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    08 Apr 2022

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    Shang Qinghua gets snowed in at the office. With a dead phone and no way to get home, his best option for the night is the one presented by a rather prickly boss.


    “How are you getting home?” Mobei Jun asks, and Shang Qinghua shrugs.

    “Walking?” He suggests, and Mobei Jun narrows his eyes. “Well, no, it's too far and there are no cars nearby. So I was thinking I’ll just stay at a hotel…”

    Shang Qinghua trails off as he is met with silence. Mobei Jun simply stares at him, his icy blue gaze pinning Shang Qinghua to the spot. Shang Qinghua thinks he can see an idea percolate behind the man’s eyes, but it is most likely a trick of the light. After all, what could he—

    “I live a ten minute walk away,” Mobei Jun states more than says. “It may just be easier to stay the night at my place.”

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    08 Apr 2022