descendency (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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westwhere2021-05-09 09:21 pm
descendency) wrote in westwhere2021-05-09 09:21 pm
one day I might not make it back home (may catch-all)
WHO: Mingyu and YOU
WHEN: All through the month babes.
WHERE: House of Dew, on the road, wherever.
WHAT: Slutty, slutty CR.
WARNINGS: He's a hooker it WILL get sexual. Otherwise no real warnings yet. Will update. DM/PM/plurk me for prompts/whatever.
dreaming of foxes
At least this client was a kind one. Those could be few and far between, in this line of work. The House of Dew kept its business, and by extension its patrons, orderly enough, but the professional respect afforded Mingyu by most clients was not the same thing as genuine kindness.
He was patient with Mingyu, understanding when Mingyu apologized for how frazzled, how distracted he was. Refused an offer to reschedule, to discount his rate. They sat and talked for a good portion of the session before getting down to, how to say, the main event.
Mingyu even felt a little relaxed by the end of it, though the fox tattoo he was carefully keeping out of sight of his guest felt like it was searing into his skin with how hyper-aware he remained of it. It was moving. It had started moving when the ship carrying Archeval's pet project drew near to the ports. It was all he could think about, though he'd rushed back to the House of Dew only partway into the rescue attempts in an effort to stay in the house's good graces as he did not know how much longer he would remain reliant on his employment here.
Now he was just waiting for his client to go, unable to bear to rush him even though they were past their time because he'd been kind.
"See you again soon?" the guest asked, and Mingyu smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"I should be so lucky," he replied smoothly, well-practiced, slow to slip his robe back on because a man would forgive a great many things about your mood if enough skin was on display.
WHEN: All through the month babes.
WHERE: House of Dew, on the road, wherever.
WHAT: Slutty, slutty CR.
WARNINGS: He's a hooker it WILL get sexual. Otherwise no real warnings yet. Will update. DM/PM/plurk me for prompts/whatever.
dreaming of foxes
At least this client was a kind one. Those could be few and far between, in this line of work. The House of Dew kept its business, and by extension its patrons, orderly enough, but the professional respect afforded Mingyu by most clients was not the same thing as genuine kindness.
He was patient with Mingyu, understanding when Mingyu apologized for how frazzled, how distracted he was. Refused an offer to reschedule, to discount his rate. They sat and talked for a good portion of the session before getting down to, how to say, the main event.
Mingyu even felt a little relaxed by the end of it, though the fox tattoo he was carefully keeping out of sight of his guest felt like it was searing into his skin with how hyper-aware he remained of it. It was moving. It had started moving when the ship carrying Archeval's pet project drew near to the ports. It was all he could think about, though he'd rushed back to the House of Dew only partway into the rescue attempts in an effort to stay in the house's good graces as he did not know how much longer he would remain reliant on his employment here.
Now he was just waiting for his client to go, unable to bear to rush him even though they were past their time because he'd been kind.
"See you again soon?" the guest asked, and Mingyu smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"I should be so lucky," he replied smoothly, well-practiced, slow to slip his robe back on because a man would forgive a great many things about your mood if enough skin was on display.
no subject
It wasn't that he didn't think he would get Fox back. It was that getting Fox back felt nothing like he imagined it would be, and he imagined it over and over and over again. A thousand different times and ways.
Mingyu was at a loss. He didn't know what to do, how to proceed, how to keep Fox now that he had him once more. All he really wanted to do was stop hurting the brightest soul he'd ever known.
By the time Fox came in, there was a modest meal on the table of roasted meats and bread, some hearty vegetable soup. The nicest he could come up with on short notice, nothing like they'd eat at home.
For the first time in recent memory, Mingyu missed being in the kitchen.
This was the effect Fox had on him.
"I always make sure there's dinner, Huli," he teased softly in return, motioning for the other to sit. Next to him, close enough to touch. It felt less natural than he hoped.
"Who do you think you're talking to? In fact, who do you think you are, Mr. Forgets His Own Lunch Sitting Next to Him."
no subject
It was weird coming to Mingyu like this. The wrong food on the table. The wrong rooms. Rooms that were Mingyu’s rooms, not his, not theirs. It felt ludicrous, because even a few years ago it wouldn’t have mattered. He hadn’t had his own space since he was a teenager, and definitely not a shared home. It would have been easy and fine to adjust.
But now… now he was overcome with an intense wave of homesickness, as he looked at the man who should have felt like home and yet still kept feeling slightly off.
But he had promised himself to get over it, to set it aside, to not make it any worse for Mingyu than it was. So he kept the smile on his lips and took the seat that was offered, leaning over to smell the meal.
“I could have remembered. If I knew I needed to. Probably.”
Actual likelihood: 4% chance.