#twink. and how exactly is he supposed to explain any of this to his mom?????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

folderolsfollies · 3 years

Text

title: Three Can Keep A Secret (If Two Of Them Are Dead) pairing: Sangyao summary: I just wanted to let my stupid murder twinks have a nice day and plan a fake-date. (discussion of sexual assault - if you want to skip it go from the paragraph ““You’ve been talking to Xiao Xingchen,” to “Nie Huaisang thankfully gets the hint”)

Meng Yao has had enough.

Hasn’t he worked harder than anyone he knows, learnt enough to be the equal of spoiled children who could spend their children at tutoring programs and not second jobs, hadn’t he lied and schemed and shoveled shit so that his father, his biological father, would even deign to look his way? After all that, is he not owed - everything, really - but at the very least something? And if he can’t get his reward, can he not at least get his revenge?

He calls his oldest friend, and lets it ring all the way through as it goes to voicemail. When he calls again. Nie Huaisang picks up on the second ring.

“Sorry Yao-ge, figured if it wasn’t important you’d leave a voicemail and if it was important you’d just call again,” Nie Huaisang explains, with the edge of a laugh trilling his voice, not sorry at all. “So tell me, why have you made me suffer through an actual phone call instead of texting me like a civilized human being who’s joined the 21st century?”

“I want to bring my father down,” Meng Yao says, and then hastily snaps his mouth shut. There’s something about Nie Huaisang which makes him speak too hastily, allow too much of his real emotions, real anger out. The wild shriek of laughter Nie Huaisang is emitting right now isn’t helping with that.

“Hell yeah, love a scheme,” says Nie Huaisang comfortably, and from the muffled thud it sounds like he’s settling in.

“Nie Huaisang, are you putting your feet on the table?” Meng Yao says. Meng Yao is not a mom friend. Lan Xichen is a mom friend. Meng Yao is cool. And, if he is continuing to indulge in wild hypotheticals, Nie Huasiang is a jock.

“So mean to your rescuer, Yao-ge! Do you want my help or not?” Nie Huaisang says.

“I could ask Xichen instead,” says Meng Yao, annoyed, and winces. He’s definitely off his game.

“Lan Xichen will tell you to hug it out,” Nie Huaisang points out, “that’s why you didn’t call him, you called me: your meanest friend. Now tell didi what happened.”

Meng Yao opens his mouth. Then he closes it. Nie Huaisang is the last person on the planet that would judge him for familial related hysterics. But he’s not quite at the point where he can untangle the web of hatred and obligation and trampled love that he feels whenever his father is around and present it for public consumption. He’s not even at the point where he thinks he can try. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he says, and if his voice is low, at least it doesn’t shake.

“Sure, whatever. I’m assuming that you already have a plan in place?” Nie Huaisang instantly says, cheerily.

“You’re just agreeing to this?” Meng Yao says, shaking his head. “People will take advantage of that, you know,” he says, and the words come out with the solicitous edge that he always feels compelled to adopt with Nie Huaisang. There’s a fifty-fifty chance that Nie Huaisang will say, “But it’s not people, it’s you”, and then Meng Yao will say --

“I mean maybe I’d say something if it were Zixuan you were targeting, maybe, but Jin Guangshan? You don’t need to sell me on a revenge plan against him, Yao-ge,” Nie Huaisang says breezily, like it’s that easy. And maybe to him, it is. “Also I’m agreeing to hear you out, not to get involved in anything, by the way, you’ll need to bribe me for that.”

“I already bribe you,” Meng Yao points out, and smiles reflexively, as if it could soften the words over the phone.

“That’s great, then! You already know what works on me!” Nie Huaisang says.

Meng Yao sighs, but he’s smiling, and it's a real one this time. “He’s having a charity gala in a few weeks, and I’m going to be there, as an organizer. I’m allowed a plus one.” He knows this for certain, because he wrote the invitation code.

“Yao-ge, are you going to bring someone shocking?” Nie Huaisang says, all conspiratorial glee and instant understanding.

“Yes,” says Meng Yao, swallowing, trying not to think about what led him here after he worked so hard to gain his father’s favor, or about the way Nie Huaisang’s voice dipped low on his name.

“So you want someone male, to activate his old-man homophobia, and frivolous enough that he can’t even say this is some sort of business strategy. I’ve got a couple of candidates,” Nie Huaisang muses, and Meng Yao can hear his smile through the phone. “How about, oh, Wei Wuxian? He’s always my personal choice when I need a chaos agent.”

“Lan Wangji would kill me,” Meng Yao replies automatically. If he halted that slow-moving daytime soap opera any more, he thinks Lan Wangji would just be the first in a very long line. He briefly mulls over the merits of seducing Wei Wuxian just to stop having to look at their insufferable pining gazes. “Huaisang…”

“Well, how about Xiao Xingchen, then? He’d be nice enough to agree, he’d probably think he was taking a principled stand against bigotry,” Nie Huaisang says, in his best butter-won’t-melt voice.

Here’s the thing. Meng Yao knows exactly what Nie Huaisang is doing right now. And still he finds himself saying “Huaisang… I don’t want Xiao Xingchen,” because then Nie Huaisang will laugh and say -

“Oh, you want me, gege? Now what will I get for that?”

A small part of Meng Yao, still, after everything he knows about Nie Huaisang, wants to say “Anything.” And in truth, there is little that he would not give to Nie Huaisang. Meng Yao sometimes feels like it’s Nie Huaisang’s knowledge of this fact that is the only reason that Meng Yao still gets to set the terms.

“First of all: exposure.” Meng Yao says crisply, relaxing into details. “It will be well attended. Madame Yu will be there, and you can get an introduction that doesn’t need to go through her children.”

“And?” Nie Huaisang says.

“It’s minimal work. We go in, get photographed, and get out. We really just need to be seen for this to work.” Meng Yao lists off.

“And?” Nie Huaisang says, and he’s definitely fucking with Meng Yao now, but what he doesn’t know is that Meng Yao also has an ace up his sleeve.

Meng Yao pauses for full dramatic effect and then pulls out his trump card. “And it’s a masquerade.”

“Meng Yao,” whoops Nie Huaisang, delighted as a child, “why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I led with the opportunity to inflict social repercussions on a known missing stair in the community,” Meng Yao says virtuously, “at great cost to my own career in the company.”

“You’ve been talking to Xiao Xingchen,” Nie Huaisang snorts, and maybe that easy understanding that sometimes bodies need to get buried is why Meng Yao only wants one person on his arm for this. “If you really wanted to expose him properly, there has got to be a woman willing to go on record against him.”

Meng Yao feels three bright stabs of pain in his palm, and realizes that he’s clenched his fist hard enough for the nails to bite in. He relaxes every individual finger. “That won’t work,” he says, calmly. Always calmly. “He’ll get a slap in the wrist and those women’s lives will be ruined for nothing.” And so will his, he thinks.

Nie Huaisang thankfully gets the hint and changes the subject. “Whereas this way, you get a cozy, sympathetic interview in GLAD magazine about how some people can’t keep up with the times, and some exposure that you can use with more liberal companies. Bold move, A-Yao!”

Meng Yao really can’t help himself. “I think Lan Wangji would agree.” Lan Xichen won’t stick his neck out for Meng Yao against the Jins, but Lan Wangji’s sense of virtue can be played like a fiddle. And as Lan Wangji goes, so goes the nation, apparently. Meng Yao thinks he can play this just fine.

Nie Huaisang is laughing approvingly. “You’re my favorite, Yao-ge,” he says, because, Meng Yao reminds himself, he’s a flighty child who says that to anyone who made him happy for more than five seconds, and Meng Yao is just stupid enough to still want it.

“So I’m going for provocative but in a way that appeals to subscribers to the New Yorker,” Nie Huaisang muses. “I’m very good at being a good-for-nothing piece of arm candy, you called the right guy.”

“That’s not true, Nie Huaisang, you know that,” Meng Yao says, because Nie Huaisang’s inexplicable urge to constantly downplay his own intelligence is one of the most baffling things about him.

Nie Huaisang just hums and doesn’t answer. “Well, I’m in, if I have the time,” and then he adds, because he’s still Nie Huaisang, “and maybe you’ll owe me a favor!”

Meng Yao lets himself think for a beat about Nie Huaisang owing him that sort of favor - flushed cheeks, tangled hair - and then sighs mildly. “I suppose.”

“I’m going to take advantage of that,” Nie Huaisang says, and the phone clicks off.

#the untamed #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #sangyao #oh I should have a fic tag #my fic

39 notes · View notes

gvbejvmes · 4 years

Text

Drabble-a-thon: Four, Song

Title: Like a Cole Porter Song Rating: PG-13 Relationships: Gabriel/Johnny, Johnny & Kaleidoscope Johnson, the Alphabet City Art Collective Trigger Warnings: None? Brief Summary: Well, did you evah? What a swell party this is.

“Are you sure I have to be here?” Johnny asked, looking completely and totally uncomfortable. He looked absolutely gorgeous in his linen suit, and if they were going to a 20’s themed party at anyone else’s house he’d be fine, but they were going to Kaleidoscope Johnson’s Annual 30th Birthday Party at his Upper East Side Penthouse.

It wasn’t that his husband didn’t get alone with his mentor. It was more like his mentor made him very uncomfortable, To be fair, the first time they met had been… eventful and there had been slightly more groping on Kale’s part than Gabe had anticipated. Ever since that first meeting Johnny was just a little… wary around the older man.

Gabe snorted, already wishing he hadn’t taken Kale up on his dare and had opted for a linen suit, too. Don’t get him wrong. He knew his legs looked fabulous in his flapper dress, he just was a little cold and a little wishing that he’d worn nylons and not gone commando. He felt a little like a frat boy, and was already uncertain about how he was going to sit down without giving anyone a free show.

“You know the rules, Jay. If you don’t have a date for Kale’s birthday gala, he pairs you up with another single for the night. And Velvet had to go to Seattle for her sister’s wedding. Otherwise, no offense, baby, but she would have been my first choice in date.”

His husband sighed. “I still think she made that up, and don’t try to show me her Instagram posts again.” He said as they walked into Kale’s penthouse, which felt a hell of a lot like walking back in time. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought they actually were in the 20′s or 30′s. Everyone was decked out in their 20’s finest. Everywhere was gold, and glitter, and booze. So much booze. Or more specifically so much fucking champagne. There was even a live jazz band. When Kale threw a party, he didn’t know how to be subtle. He always went all out and then some. Fuck, there was even a receiving line.

The party was already in full swing because when he and Johnny walked in there were only a couple of other people ahead of them. When they got to the head of the line, Kale was sitting in a huge golden oak rocking chair in a white linen suit, a matching hat perched on the top of his head. There were stacks of gifts on either side of him. “Oh, look at you!” He squealed in delight, making spin motions with his hands. “Do a twirl for daddy, and I’ll give you a treat.”

He could feel his husband blinking and staring at Kale. “Well, that’s disturbing.”

Laughing, Gabe gave a twirl so he could see the full extent of Gabe’s outfit. “It’s your birthday, Kale. We’re supposed to be giving you gifts.” He pointed out with a raised eyebrow, but he wasn’t going to lie, Kale did give the best presents.

Kale grinned. “Oh, Gabey. You brought me the best present. You always bring the best presents.” His eyes went over Gabe’s shoulder, obviously staring at Johnny. “Do I get to touch or is it just for looking?”

“There will be no touching!”

His husband almost sounded hysterical. Gabe turned, and pressed a kiss to his husband’s mouth before turning back to Kale. “You said something about having a present for me?”

“That’s right. Your gift.” They were both ignoring the indigent sounds coming from Johnny. Reaching behind him, he produced a long thin box and handed it to Gabe. “For you, Gabey. And it works.”

Opening the box, he found a long cigarette holder. “Oh, Kale!” He grinned and pulled it out of the box, tossing it to the side with his friend’s gifts. “It’s perfect.”

Kale offered him a benevolent smile before waving a hand in their direction. “Go on, enjoy the party.”

Taking Johnny’s hand they went directly to the bar. “See? It wasn’t that bad.” They didn’t have to even order, the bartender just handed them two drinks.

“I was told that both your glasses are to remain full of giggle juice all night.”

They both took a sip, and then immediately looked at each other. “And this is why we didn’t drive.” Gabe said before taking another sip.

Before Johnny could say anything, Steven, the annoying twink from the collective, approached with Katie, a no nonsense middle aged woman and another member of the collective.”There you are, Gabey!” And, ah, Steven must have also been on Kale’s list of people he wanted the bartenders to get very very drunk. “Kale has an assignment for us.”

“The party isn't at a Kale appropriate level yet.” Katie explained. “We need to play ‘well, did you ever.’”

Gabe groaned. “No.”

Katie grinned. “Yep.” She linked arms with Johnny. “C’mon, handsome.”

“Sorry, baby!” Gabe called out as he downed his drink and waited for it to be replaced with a fresh one before letting Steven link arms with him and dragged him into the crowd of people. Not quite knowing what to do with his cigarette holder, he tucked it behind his ear.

“Have you heard? Professor Munch ate his wife and divorced his lunch?”

Two people turned and looked at Steven in complete and utter surprise, which was Gabe’s cue to act completely ridiculous. It wasn’t exactly difficult given how he was dressed. “Well, did you eva’.” He drawled out before smirking at one of the guests and giving them a small curtsey. “What a swell party this is.”

They left behind the surprised and laughing couple before moving further into the group. “Have you heard that poor dear Blanche got run down by an avalanche?” Steven asked once they were in front of another large group of people.

Gabe grinned when people turned around to look at them. “Oh, don't worry, she’s a game girl you know, got up and finished 4th.” He gave a salacious wink to the small audience they’d acquired.“That girl’s got guts.” He said, which earned a round of laughs.

“Well, did you eva’.” Steven laughingly called out, which caused more giggles.

And that was the point of this game. The whole point of the game was to say ridiculous things until party guests started laughing and having as good of a time as the drunk idiots running around the party were. Kale would be coming out soon to really kick off the party. He just needed them to spice things up a little bit. And then… the music changed, which Gabe knew meant that it was show time for Kale.

Scanning the crowd of bodies, he couldn’t find his husband, which made him groan. That couldn’t be a coincidence.There was no way in hell that was a coincidence. Shit. Where was Johnny???

The lights around the jazz band dimmed, and Gabe quickly finished his drink and set it down on a nearby server’s tray. Steven was still attached to him, so he passed him off to a stranger before moving towards the stage area in time to see Kale step onto the stage in a bright red suit. God, how many outfit changes was he going to have? Last year he had five.

“You could have a great career, and you should.” He crooned out, and Gabe’s stomach dropped. His mom had been a Cole Porter aficionado. He knew what song this was, and his husband was going to kill him. “Yes, you should. Only one thing stops you dear: You're too good; Way too good!”

And suddenly Katie was pushing Johnny onto the stage and into Kale’s arms. “Fuck.” A waiter pressed another drink into Gabe’s hand and if it hadn’t been for the bubbles he would have downed it. Instead he finished it in three big gulps as Kale continued to sing.

“If you want a future, darlin', Why don't you get a past? 'Cause that fateful moment's comin' at last…”

Gabe winced at how uncomfortable Johnny looked. Oh, he was going to have to make it up to him. He knew Kale enjoyed making Johnny uncomfortable, but this was on a whole new level. He was suddenly glad that he hadn’t gotten his mentor a gift because this was ridiculous.

“We're all alone, no chaperone can get our number. The world's in slumber -- let's misbehave!!!”

The crowd around Gabe cheered as Kale dipped Johnny, going in for a kiss and somehow Johnny managed to squirm out of his grasp and landed on his ass. Shit, everyone around them thought this was scripted. He set his empty down and made it to the stage in time to see Johnny scramble to his feet. But he wasn’t running away. He was staying on stage. Wait... was this scripted?

“There's something wild about you child that's so contagious. Let's be outrageous--let's misbehave!!!”

Gabe made it to the stage in time to see Kale pull Johnny back into his arms. His husband still looked uncomfortable, but he wasn’t running away. He looked like he was... humoring him? And then he... he... winked. What the fuck!

“When Adam won Steve’s hand he wouldn't stand for teasin'. He didn't care about those apples out of season.”

The people around Gabe were laughing and cheering, but he still had no idea what the hell was going on. Once again, Kale tried to kiss Johnny, and once again Johnny got away from him. And this time, Johnny slipped off the stage and right into Gabe’s arms, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

“They say that Spring means just one thing to little lovebirds. We're not above birds. Let's misbehave!”

Kale made some comment about him being a spoilsport, but Gabe only had eyes for his husband. It took him far too long to realize that they’d started dancing to Kale’s singing. Fuck, what had been in those drinks? His arms were looped around Johnny’s neck while Johnny’s arms were wrapped around Gabe’s waist. “What was that?” He asked in total and complete confusion. “When did you and Kale rehearse that?”

Instead of responding, his husband just pulled him closer. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, looking slightly traumatized.

Gabe laughed. “You’re full of surprises, baby.” He said before burying his face into the crook of Johnny’s neck, his cigarette holder clattering to the ground by their feet.

The other man’s lips pressed against his ear, and he crooned out softly, “You know my heart is true, and you say you for me care... Somebody's sure to tell, but what the hell do we care? Let’s misbehave.”

Pulling back to get a better look at him, Gabe shook his head. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

There wasn’t a response, but he didn’t expect there to be one.

First Song: Well, Did You Evah? Second Song: Let’s Misbehave

#drabble #CJ drabbleathon #pairing: Gabe/Johnny

1 note · View note