text | un: fantasma

[teaserving]

hey
i need to moonlace
it's time
but i got some standards see
so a little questionnaire for you

1. are you an asshole
2. what's your favorite drink
3. favorite kind of music
4. age, gender, name

Comments

[teaserving]

Not everybody fucks someone the same gender as them, JP.

[His tone is very flat, but the hand down his spine is... hmm. That's soothing and it's nice. So instead of getting agitated, his tail flicks a little harder before he's settling back down.]

So what, you wanted to experiment?

I don't care if that's the case, but I don't want to hear any fucking excuses either.

[silvercrusader]

Listen instead of snapping at me, asshole.

[He doesn't rise up, though, and his fingers don't stop.]

I'm saying I've . . . it's not a thing that people do at home. So it's not something I did. I like girls, I do, but I--

[Christ, and he exhales harshly, shoving a hand through his hair. It's flat anyway.]

I go both ways, all right? It's not-- believe me, it's not an experiment, I know what I am. I just don't . . . I never could at home.

[teaserving]

[Abbacchio clicks his tongue; he's halfway tempted to be snide, tell him that's not what Polnareff told him before -- but he gets it. This sort of thing isn't easy to deal or process. He was already an outlier for enjoying his makeup, so the sexuality really didn't help his case either.

Not that he cares. Abbacchio is a complete fuck up in other ways, but not that.]

Some people play it safe. And I get that. I never could; that was something I didn't think I could lie to myself about.

Anyway. Here, nobody gives a shit. Which is a bit different than usual for both of us.

[silvercrusader]

[There's no sneering accusation, or worse, no triumphant laugh or spiteful revenge (would Leone do that? No, but this is so new, so frightening, his heart in his throat and a thousand suppressed thoughts formed over a lifetime). Polnareff exhales slowly, a long breath, as the tension, if not leaves him, at least melts a little.]

Yeah, no kidding.

[He stares up at the ceiling, his fingers tracing pointless patterns against his back.]

I woulda fucked you that day, you know. If it hadn't gone wrong.

[teaserving]

Yeah, and I bet you would've felt real fucking good, too.

[He shrugs, closing his eyes.]

If you weren't sapping me dry, I would've let you. But I was kinda under the impression you were straight.

[Abbacchio doesn't mean it accusingly either. But it's whatever. Sometimes it isn't easy for people to even be open to that.]

[silvercrusader]

You and everybody else.

[And that's just the way he wanted it once. It was easier. He was busy chasing after Geil; who had time for a sexuality crisis? Way easier just to push the thoughts away, and if he noticed this guy or that, well. Nobody said looking was a crime, right?

And now he's here. He's here and it's normal, nobody cares, nobody looks twice, and it's not like he couldn't fight the world if he had to, but there's always a part of him that clings to what little normalcy he can carve out for himself. He likes watching sports and drinking beer and being ordinary, because the rest of his fucking life is so insane.

And now there's all this weird shit, and his bed partner is someone whose organization he advises in thirteen years, and he's got a tail, so why not just lean into it, right? Why not fuck him, or anyone, in face of all that? There's a line you have to draw, some arbitrary point where you just stop caring anymore.]

I'm just . . . me right now.

[Whatever the hell that means. He shifts, lifting his hand to comb it through his hair, tugging lightly.]

Hey, asshole, don't fall asleep. You think I'm done after one round?

[Is that a joke? Maybe. He definitely wants to kiss him again, though.]

[teaserving]

You're the one who told me I'm not like that.

...But I get trying to figure yourself out. Or... I dunno. Wanting to convince yourself you're just like everyone else. It's safe.

[He got over that sooner than a lot of people is all.

Abbacchio's eyes open, and he smiles crookedly.]

Oh yeah? You got another in you for me?

[He's leaning over, pressing a kiss, lightly tugging on Polnareff's lower lip.]

[silvercrusader]

[Maybe later they'll talk about it. Almost assuredly he'll text him at 2 AM some night with a whole list of questions, stupid and profound both. But it's way easier to just throw himself into action than to think, and so he wraps his arm firm around him, pulling Abbacchio atop him, so he can tip his head and return that kiss firmly, til his mouth is aching once more.

It feels good, is the thing. Chroma exchange aside, it just feels fantastic to be able to indulge like this after weeks and weeks of questing.]

You got another in you? I fucked you pretty good just now. You think you can take me twice?

[teaserving]

All right, don't let it get to your head. You're the one who came first.

[He teases, mostly. Honestly, he doesn't really care who went first.]

You said something about wanting to fuck me over something?

[silvercrusader]

A table, maybe. The bed'd work too, but I wanna see you spread out, you know? Hands flat on the table the whole time.

[That's not the only thing he wants. He doesn't know quite how to word this the right way, but god, he wants to blow him. Just a little, just to see what it's like.]

Think I could get you to go for that?

[teaserving]

Kitchen could work. Or my vanity desk if you're feeling kinky about the mirror.

So yeah. I could go for that.