[closed post - in an atmospherically gloomy room]

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe is not proud of it, but he has spent the entire day rereading the first volume of Blood at Dusk. He's not hiding, but he has no desire to see anyone—except perhaps Nina, but when he ventured out to find her, he heard what sounded like a large number of people talking in one of the bars and turned away. He should have keyed the talisman the other way around, so he could call her. It's selfish, but he feels like being selfish.

So now he is curled up in one of the lounge areas and reading the book Shen Qingqiu gave back to him. It's the margin notes that are getting to him. Shen Qingqiu's casual writing is messier than the meticulous calligraphy on the invitation he sent, and alive with his personality—it grows sloppy when Shen Qingqiu finds something to be passionate about, then small and cramped, almost frantic as he tries to fit all his thoughts on the page. He may not be the true Shen Qingqiu, but he has a scholar's mind, criticizing certain scenes as "derivative", or the dialogue as "unrealistic." Luo Binghe treasures every note, every insight into Shen Qingqiu's mind—every opportunity to picture him hunched over the book, his cherished forehead creased with focus as he jotted down this litany of complaints.

And besides reading Shen Qingqiu's notes, Luo Binghe is reading the book. Despite what Shen Qingqiu derides as a "standard supernatural romance," Luo Binghe is not too hardened to be moved by the mishaps of Ted and Isabelle. Ted is drawn to Isabelle for reasons he cannot explain, and tries his best to care for her despite his melancholic nature. Despite the fact that he's never learned how to care for anyone. He sees, in Isabelle, salvation from his life of endless darkness, of the self-loathing nightmare of being a monster. He loves her, even though she is purely beautiful and good, and he lives in a world of blood and filth that has corrupted him utterly. And Isabelle loves him, but fears him. She is right to; what he wants from her is more than she can give, and he will never stop wanting it, no matter how much she tries to appease him. His monstrous nature would overwhelm her if she let it; it's best for her to run.

If one could die of heartbreak, Luo Binghe would have dropped dead right after his mother. So he knows he must simply continue enduring it. He runs his fingers over Shen Qingqiu's notes, reading every one five times over before moving on, wishing the book was longer.

Comments

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe lifts his head to look at him. "Do you think so? He pushed me away. He didn't just say no—he pushed me, like he was—repulsed." His voice goes ragged on the last word.

[sagramore]

Sagramore shifts himself so that his back is against the arm of the couch, which makes it easier to look at Luo Binghe. "Where you come from, is it frowned upon? It is where I am. Someone like me (or you) would be considered sinful. --I don't know whether that means anything to you, actually, but my point is that there's a great deal to be gained in appearing, ah, straight, and a great deal to be lost in the reverse. I've known more than a few men who would prefer to think themselves otherwise. And I've know more than a few men who would rather I thought they were repulsed by me than by themselves."

[protagonisthalo]

Where Luo Binghe comes from, it's not particularly frowned upon. It's widely assumed that men will marry women, but men who choose other men are not seen as lesser. However, for Luo Binghe specifically, there is much to lose by not being—as Sagramore poetically puts it—"straight." Until recently, the thought filled him with panic. He never thought the same might be true for Shen Qingqiu, because what could he possibly have to lose by it? He's not even married. And even if he was, people regularly give up their lives, homes, families and status to marry Luo Binghe. He's never thought that might make someone hesitate.

"No one minds it, in my world, but Shen Qingqiu... I don't know where he's from. He is—by his own admission—a displaced spirit, inhabiting a body that doesn't belong to him. Because I knew the real Shen Qingqiu, and he was entirely different from the man who lives here. Our Shen Qingqiu admitted to this, but shied away from telling me who he really is. So how these things are viewed in his home country, I know no better than you." He chews on his thumbnail anxiously, thinking hard. "You really think it's because I'm a man? I would never have thought—I would sooner have guessed it was because I'm a demon." He's afraid to take Sagramore at his word just yet.

[sagramore]

"He's a what? --No, no, never mind, it doesn't matter. Yes. It's because you're a man. He told me himself he was devastated he couldn't return your affections because he doesn't like men. And then he talked about you in ways that certainly convinced me he likes men, or at least he likes you."

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe looks up at Sagramore, eyes wide. His throat constricts so much it's hard to speak. "He said that? He really—Sagramore, you've been nothing but good to me. If you tell me it's so, I'll believe you, so please don't deceive me. When I see him, I—I think all my life I've never known what I wanted until now."

[sagramore]

He can't help smiling, at least in part because this conversation seems infinitely less disastrous than the one with Shen Qingqiu. "Listen, I'm telling you what I believe, which is that he's stupid about you. I don't know whether he believes that yet, you understand?"

[protagonisthalo]

Tears well up and spill over before he can stop them. He thinks of how Shen Qingqiu stopped to reassure him in the middle of their fight, as though Luo Binghe's distress was an emergency that took priority over everything. His mind is still working to come up with reasons why it can't be true—maybe it's the other Binghe he loves—but Shen Qingqiu has denied that more than once, and isn't the other Binghe still nearly a child? No, if he feels for anyone—if anyone here is causing him to question his feelings for men—it would be Luo Binghe. "I thought—" he starts, and then chokes on the words. He wipes the corners of his eyes with his fingers. "It's because I'm a man? That's—that's nothing, he'll get over that if he thinks about it clearly—I can wait, I can be patient—"

[sagramore]

"Ah, Christ--" Luo Binghe hasn't particularly impressed him as a man who wants to be pulled into an embrace when he's sad, like Shen Qingqiu, but that is Sagramore's first line of action against sad fellows. So he does the other thing he's inexorably drawn to do, and pushes himself off the arm of the couch so he can lean over and tuck Luo Binghe's wild hair behind his ear. "Aye, give him time, he's young-- you're both young. It's miserable now, but it'll improve."

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe leans into the touch gratefully. He has rarely been so happy as the moment before he kissed Shen Qingqiu, and rarely so wretched as when he believed Shen Qingqiu didn't love him. He's exhausted, as though he's been fighting for his life for the past day against some powerful beast. "Thank you," he manages. "I hope—I am putting a lot of faith in your ability to read him."

[sagramore]

"I realize that, and I'm grateful for your trust." He rubs his thumb against the ridge of Luo Binghe's cheek. "Thou wilt be all right."

[protagonisthalo]

The gentler Sagramore is with him, the more difficult it is to manage his emotions. He draws his sleeve across his face and attempts to breathe more evenly. "I usually have more control over myself than this—it's this place, I hardly know myself these days—" It's not only Shen Qingqiu, although Shen Qingqiu is driving him out of his mind. It's how things work differently here, how he is somehow permitted to do things he would never have done before. The ways that Nina is changing him have nothing to do with Shen Qingqiu, but equally make him feel as though the ground beneath him is crumbling to sand.

[sagramore]

Sagramore sighs and gives in to his impulses, gathering Luo Binghe into his arms.

[protagonisthalo]

With a swallowed noise, Luo Binghe stumbles forward and kisses him hungrily.

[sagramore]

He's taken entirely off-guard by it, but he kisses back at once, his hand sliding up Luo Binghe's back, a firm, steady touch.

[protagonisthalo]

He is making a fool of himself—he's smearing his tears all over Sagramore's face—but he kisses him open-mouthed and desperately. The last time, he'd just wanted to see what it was like, and Sagramore was the most available and agreeable option. But now he wants someone to be kind to him, and touch him—stroke his hair and whisper praises—and when he feels like that, he goes to his wives. He doesn't mean to make Sagramore a substitute for Shen Qingqiu—or if he does, then maybe everything has only been a substitute for Shen Qingqiu, maybe everyone he's ever touched he's only desired because he didn't know Shen Qingqiu existed. He wraps his hand around he back of Sagramore's neck, holding him lightly in place, and practically crawls into his lap.

[sagramore]

It isn't, as it happens, the first time he's offered himself as comfort to someone who would rather have someone else, and he isn't offended by the idea. He keeps one hand at Luo Binghe's waist, buries the other in his hair, and kisses him with none of the yielding of the time before; he kisses him as if he were Laertes, as if he had no other task now than to be kissed and taken care of.

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe cannot quell his hunger—it only intensifies as Sagramore touches him more. He has been so miserable, and then so relieved, and now he doesn't want to think. He kisses down Sagramore's jaw to his neck, mumbling against the skin, "Tell me—tell me what you liked, the last time, tell me the good things I did—"

[sagramore]

"My sweet lord. I loved how thou moved me as though I had no weight to me at all, how thou laid thy hands in my hair and pulled, how thou took of me as if my only purpose were to give to thee. Thou wast commanding and haughty and I was pleased to serve thee."

[protagonisthalo]

"Yes, you were so good to me—you are so good—" He bites down on Sagramore's neck.

[sagramore]

"Wilt thou serve me a little, my lord?" His breath catches at the bite.

[protagonisthalo]

He nods, not pausing what he's doing, which is licking over the place he just bit. He has done so before—he has certain wives who favor it that way, Xiao Gongzhu with her whip, or sometimes Sha Hualing—but he's been afraid to do such a thing with men. With his wives, it's clearly play, and everyone knows who is truly in charge. In contrast, when Claudius treated Luo Binghe like he would lie down and submit, it caused the world to tilt disorientingly around him. But Sagramore won't disrespect him—and anyway, he no longer cares. Learning that Shen Qingqiu is holding back on him because of something so stupid has broken whatever restraint was left. He wants to do this, so he will. "Yes—tell me."

[sagramore]

"First I would have thee take us somewhere else but here. I would not risk anyone look on thee but me." He traces a fingertip along the rim of Luo Binghe's ear, then the line of his jaw, ending by grasping his chin and lifting his head in a grip that's gentle but firm, expecting no argument.

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe is dazed and comforted by the confidence in his grasp. "Come to my rooms, then. Wait—" He turns away and carefully gathers the book and Shen Qingqiu's fan, tucking both away into the storage ring on his pinky. Then he turns back. "I am at your disposal."

[sagramore]

"Thy rooms, then. Take me."

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe understands the need for discretion. The situation has changed since they coupled on the sofa; he doesn't touch Sagramore as he shows him the way to the rooms he's selected. Luo Binghe favors dark colors and polished wood, and the mansion has provided a lavish suite (although not as big as the one in his palace) draped with rich black silks. In the center sits a four-poster bed platform with a carved wooden canopy, shrouded by deep burgundy curtains embroidered with dragons and lotuses. Luo Binghe knows Sagramore intends to take the lead, but he is impatient, so he shoves him against the door and resumes kissing him ravenously. Let Sagramore bring him to heel if that's what he wants.