Tennessee Whiskey

Chapter 6: Arc 1 - Wet & Exposed

The horizon is lined in a pink tint with the imminent sunrise, and the decomposing remains of Pompeii are blanketed in a frigid fog. In the Lupinare, on a thin display mattress, Yao and Alfred peacefully lie together. Yao being significantly smaller, and a bit gaunt, Alfred has taken it upon himself to be the big spoon, keeping Yao wrapped in a warm embrace. Before they'd drifted off to sleep, Yao's shivering had progressively gotten worse, which encouraged Alfred to offer body heat.

Last night was...sentimental, to say the very least. Despite Alfred's continuous reassurance that he wasn't comparing Yao to Gilbert, Yao continues to feel foolish and inadequate. Yao, no sooner, decided that he'd discuss it later.

...Much later. And eventually, tired from penniless controversy, they fell asleep.

Yao is first to withdraw from slumber. The warmth against his back is comforting and tender, and he finds himself scooting backwards for more, wishing the warmth could just swallow him whole.

The younger stirs a little at the movement; mumbling something sleepily and adjusting his grip on Yao before nuzzling into the back of his neck, snoring lightly. Yao is delighted, to say the least. His eyes wander to the window above the bed, acknowledging the early sunrise.

But then he sees the disgusting murals of sex littering the walls and is reminded of what almost happened last night. How Alfred almost put his mouth in...places. The familiar feeling of jealousy reclaims his stomach.

He doesn't wish to be so petty... Alfred seemed genuine that his escapades with Gilbert had really meant nothing- but it's just the idea that Yao went headlong into showing intimacy to Alfred under the impression that they were at least on...equal standing, in terms of sexual experience. And the idea that Alfred even entertained the thought of Yao and Ivan ever being so close only makes him contemplate if his feelings for Ivan are truly vanished...

Just the thought of Alfred being indecent with someone else ever, is discouraging, if not depressing. And Yao, being the perfectionist he is, heavily depends on feedback and encouragement- but it's not like he can just ask Alfred to rate the sex on a scale of 1-10. Yao would admit that it was a bit...sloppy. Rushed.

Perhaps it would have been best to just wait until all this radiation business was over. But at that moment when he was able to move again, he was just so caught up in the moment that he wanted to express his...greatfulness. He definitely wants to do this again, however, preferably not on a stone bed.

Just then, a bird flutters in through the window, perching on one of the wooden rafters upon the ceiling. Yao's attention is captured by the small creature; mostly because it's the first life form he'd seen in days aside from Alfred, Francis and Arthur. He is overcome with a sadness; wanting to see his panda again. The creature has a way with making all the problems in the world seem...so small. Like how when one stares out into the ocean to feel calm. That's the feeling Panda gives him. He'd give anything for a hug from the bear.

Francis and Arthur.

They should probably get back to Alfred's house...They've probably popped in by this point wondering where they've gone.

But Alfred is so ridiculously warm.

And with how things ended last night he'd really just rather never speak again ever. He's humiliated; he knows he overreacted but he just can't help feeling envious.