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[pharmacy]

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Quentin Smith, 23

letters ◇ thoughts ◇ dreams

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[poorlittlesange]

[he bends forward into Quentin's space like cattails in the breeze, the hand not touching Quentin's cheek moving to lightly rest on his shoulder. Jin Guangyao's eyebrows quirk a fraction of an inch higher at that response and justification, decidedly unconvinced, and then an additional fraction higher at that question. he smiles, closed-mouth and knowing, and lets his fingers glide into Quentin's hair.]

I think, [he begins softly, a bit coyly,] that Quentin-gongzi is trying to change the subject.

[pot, kettle, black, etc.]

[pharmacy]

Do you like the subject we were on? [ A little too cheeky, maybe, hummed gently. He's more sincere when he goes on: ] I'm trying to get you to tell me what you think. You hear more than most of us, and...I like you. So I wanna know. What are you thinking?

[poorlittlesange]

[he rubs gentle, deliberate circles into common points of tension on Quentin's scalp, the pressure from his fingertips constant, sensitive. gradually, his little smile fades; he considers his words as he gazes down at the young man looking up at him through his eyelashes. there are risks to honesty, even here--perhaps especially here.]

I think that there are too many unknowns for me to know with any certainty what the right choice is. [it is one version of the truth, unvarnished, but declawed. Jin Guangyao's eyes soften.] But I know that I would not ask someone I claim to protect to cut out his heart for me.

[not unless he felt he had no other choice. which, perhaps, is precisely the circumstance the Duchess finds herself in now. but Jin Guangyao does not care about the Duchess's heart: he cares about Quentin's.]

[pharmacy]

[ The touch skating through his hair makes him feel heavy, covered. It's tempting to let the conversation slide away with it. With a sigh, Quentin's arms wind tighter around him, face buries against his stomach. ] 

You would never lose your heart. [ A kiss below Jin Guangyao's navel before he unwinds and leans back in his seat. His hands draw long against to catch Jin Guangyao's. ] But I get your point. Just...don't let anyone bully you. Once you know what you think.

[poorlittlesange]

[Jin Guangyao allows his hands to be collected from Quentin's hair, laces their fingers together, and maintains the gentleness in his eyes. it isn't hard to do, looking down at Quentin's face; this man coaxes the compassion and tenderness from his heart in a fashion reminiscent of both Qin Su and Lan Xichen. he lifts one of Quentin's hands to kiss the angle of his wrist once, gently.]

Gongzi is very kind to worry, [another soft kiss across a blue vein,] but I will be fine.

[he considers Quentin through his eyelashes.] Does gongzi have any plans for tonight? [the unspoken suggestion being: Jin Guangyao could be plans. u know, just sayin.]

[pharmacy]

[ He watches the purse and press of Jin Guangyao's mouth as he silently inventories the things he has to do tonight. Eat. Study. Clean. Try to sleep. Try to dream. But his fingers uncurl along Jin Guangyao's cheek, fiddle in his hair as Quentin chews the inside of his lip. Fucking hell. ]

I'm...pretty sure my schedule's open. But if we're gonna eat...lemme take you to the tavern. There's nothing upstairs.