armwriostle | ♦ [INBOX] ♦

[ The dark combination of wine-dark red and black suits the dark grayscale of his hair, the pale blue of his eyes, he appreciates the look on Wriothesley without comment until his greeting makes his eyebrows jump slightly, the puppet's lips parting in understated surprise.

Gears stutter. Feeling heat rise in his face, he presses his lips together, stepping forward to greet him. His hands catch him on the bare parts of his arms, cold metal on one side, slightly warmer on the other, and as he leans forward, his chestnut hair tickles at his jaw when he — perhaps surprisingly — greets him with a brush of his mouth against his cheek. So, what, they're on bisous level of friendship, now? Or perhaps under the watchful, keen gaze of some long-standing players, he's attempting to telegraph that he's here with somebody.

(...Or he's just trying to fluster Wriothesley in turn. He is given to benign pranking.) ]

Not really. [ Giving his arms a brief squeeze, Pinocchio leans back to look at him. ] There's still a table available.

[ It's even in a booth in the back! They might actually manage to hear themselves think as it fills out in here. ]

[Oh? Oh ho?

He hadn't expected the other to tug him close like that and give him a kiss. How cute? He grins and firmly grabs Pinocchio's chin with his index finger and thumb and gives the other a chase kiss on the lips. He huffs a little chuckle and a wink.]

You'll need to do more than a kiss on the cheek to catch me off my game, sunshine.

[But he'll tug the other with him now that their arms are more or less linked] Wonderful. I find the food here quite nice and it pairs well with the tea they serve. [Ah yes. Everything returns to tea at some point.]

[ And the puppet hadn't expected his greeting to result in a proper kiss in return. It's the delivery, though, how confidently Wriothesley seizes him by the chin to chastely kiss him, the feel of his breath on his mouth when he chuckles. It's not until the 'sunshine' nickname that Pinocchio jolts, his face graduating from warm to hot.

He moves into step with him, and they seat themselves at the booth in the back. ]

Apparently.

[ However, rather than sit across from one another, Pinocchio slides into the bench-like seat and pats the one next to him. ] It gets noisy here, and I'd like to be able to hear you. [ More like he doesn't want to be overheard, but what's the harm of a little misdirection? ]

Edited 2024-02-16 14:35 (UTC)

[He'll try not to tease too much, but Pinocchio was very charming when a bit flustered. He finds himself endeared to the man. Mirth and delight light up those steel blue eyes.

He looks at the other with some surprise, before his smile warms and he takes a seat next to the other.] If you just want me to sit next to you, you just have to say so. [Okay, a little more teasing. But he does think there is merit to Pinocchio's words. He just has to poke a bit of fun.

Wriothesley leans back in the booth, an arm circling around the other casually.]

[ That steel arm of his can hurt, which is why when he nudges it against Wriothesley's side, he's gentle. In hindsight, he could have let him sit first and slotted in after him, giving him a more forgiving arm against his side, but... he's committed now. ]

How generous. [ The puppet fires back slyly, ] I suppose I can share my dumplings with you.

[ Turns out he orders dumplings to share, since it's really just something fun to do as opposed to something he really needs. They're steamed pockets of savory cabbage and pork, and the threads of ginger in black vinegar dipping sauce is a zesty addition. It pairs unsurprisingly well with the tea they share. ]

About... my request.

[Pinocchio is mindful of his arm and Wriothesley is also very aware too. He can feel the strength in it, and he equally exhilarated and endeared. Exhilarated because he knows what that arm could do. He has fought against meka and knew their worth with the Fortress being a factory for them. He's sure that Pinocchio's arm is impressively strong as well. What endears him is that the other is obviously mindful of how strong that arm is. Pinocchio's humanity beat in the man's chest the same as his own heart beat in his.]

Now you're just trying to charm me. [He laughs as he carefully pours tea out from the pot for the both of them.] Well, it's working.

[Wriothesley will never grow tired of the food in this place. It isn't that he hated the food in Fontaine or the prison itself, but food from Liyue was rare. The food here, he imagines, is something similar to what he might get if he were to travel to that region.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, inhaling the subtle scent of the tea and exhaling.] You have questions, yes? Let's get the questions first and then you can properly tell me your request. I imagine knowledge might help you decide certain things yourself.

[ His boxer friend is good at that — at being charming in an unpretentious way, at making someone feel special and wanted. How can he do that for him in turn? He could fall back on imitation, but that would be too obvious and might even seem insincere. He could... ask, it might actually be that simple. Has there ever been a time when Wriothesley ever met his questions with mockery or hostility?

Not a single one. As Wriothesley pours him a cup of tea, Pinocchio retrieves the menu — just one to share between them. He feels good to sit beside, one long line of warmth from knee to shoulder, where the boxer's strong thigh rests against his. Conscious of the metal he has hovering so close to his vulnerable side, his metal fingers clasp his own leg out of sight, on the other side of the menu, to prevent his prosthetic from any errant flinches. ]

There's so much I don't know. A lot I didn't have a chance to learn, [ hedges the puppet, a little freer than he might have been with someone else, if only because Wriothesley already could tell he was new to this when they came together against a bathroom wall. ] Perhaps it's best I started with you.

Don't think I haven't noticed how much of your time you spend on helping others. What do you like? Is it bondage? [ he bluntly asks, grasping at the one specific thing he heard him mention. ]

[Wriothesley was not fond of being in the limelight. He was almost adverse to it. Being the center of attention just wasn't something he really enjoyed. Even in a situation like this, he finds himself not enthused to talk about himself much.

He places his cup down, scratching the back of his neck with a huff. He feels a bit caught with Pinocchio's words.]

I enjoy most things, you know. I am not a picky guy when it comes to pleasure. Pleasuring others is something I enjoy immensely. [It's not like that detail is a secret either. Pinocchio watched him get off on giving them a blowjob and fingering themselves after all. But he knows that this isn't really a proper answer to the the question.

His gaze falls on the menu as he speaks, though he's obviously not actually acknowledging what is on it.] It's something I would like to be on the receiving side of. There are things that I like and want that I haven't done.

[He idly runs a finger over the lip of his tea cup and he smiles something bittersweet.] Before you asks, no, I won't agree to it. Bondage- BDSM and the likes where you're on the receiving end requires a lot of trust. It isn't that the giver is taking control, but that the receiver is giving it up willingly. [He lifts his cup.]

Please do not take this personally, because it is not you in particular, but I simply do not have the capacity to trust others. To let go of control and be at the mercy of others is something I am incapable of. It is something I would like to be able to do, but can't. [He sips at his cup of tea. Wriothesley doesn't seem bothered to tell the other this. After all, it is not shameful to want things and in something like this, it was better to just be truthful.

The boxer spoke very little of his personal details, but it's obvious that there's a story there. Obvious that Wriothesley had suffered greatly at some point that his faith in others had been seemingly irreparably shattered. Enough that he struggled to seek things that he wanted in fear of being hurt again.]

[ Can it be truly called the limelight, when it's only his desire to see his friend satisfied? Looked after? The way he'd done to him when he was still so new to the idea that anyone cares what a 'puppet' thinks?

When it seems Wriothesley is about to confess to him what it is he likes, he lets him down gently with the revelation that he won't agree to it. Because of the cost. Because of the trust required. Because it demands he give up control willingly.

Pinocchio doesn't know what to name the sinking ache in his chest, except it feels like failure before he's even begun. Another might have dropped their gaze in dejection; the puppet stares at Wriothesley as he continues, receptive, silent. ]

...I see, [ in his own frame of reference, Pinocchio can only conclude that he's been wounded so deeply that there's no coming back to the state of trusting innocence. Krat had been a place where innocence came to die, sacrificed on the altar of capitalism. He... understands so little, but this? This he gets. With a small nod, ] Thank you for telling me.

[ He supposes it's for the best that he put this aside. After all, he's also disturbed by the idea of surrendering his mobility to another. It feels too... close, he supposes, to the purpose for which puppets were made. ] Perhaps you can teach me something else that's useful. Something you'd like.

[It's strange to talk about these things so personally. He had been, overall, so easy when it came to sex that it feels so foreign to talk about things that he wasn't willing to be on the receiving side of. An ache and want that lingers in his chest that he won't dare touch. To bare his heart and vulnerability in that way was something that made him feel cowardly.

Still, he finds a bit of peace to bring it up even if it isn't on the table. It helps that Pinocchio seems to genuinely wish for his satisfaction and pleasure.]

I have no reason not to communicate these things. You wanted to know and I feel like I have no need not to tell you. It is, after all, not shameful to want certain things and I wish that there will be a time where I can put my trust in another in such a way. [He smiles a little.] Who knows. Perhaps it isn't completely out of the question in the future.

[But who will go through the effort? Who would be willing to put the time and effort when they can have a quick fuck or shallow relations? He isn't about to go hoping for something. He knows to keep his expectations realistic.

It's nice to fantasize and dream a little bit here and there though.]

Well, I'm not opposed to teaching you bondage. While I cannot say I would agree to being on the receiving side, I also would not fully refuse. [Maybe he won't agree to a scene itself where he's tied up, but he isn't exactly opposed to Pinocchio tying him up for learning how to safely tie a person up. There is art in tying a person up where it's firm but does not endanger the person.] There is enjoyment for me to have someone in my hands and care.

[Maybe it's no surprise that Wriothesley would enjoy giving pleasure to his partner.] Bondage even on a smaller scale is a pretty common kink, so I would say that it would be useful to have the knowledge under your belt.

[ Even if Wriothesley had every reason to communicate without reservation, Pinocchio is still honored to have been taken into his confidence, to be told frankly what was and wasn't possible, and why. He isn't used to his curiosity being honored with such thorough consideration — no puppet would be, even if he became something more, something almost human.

He's disappointed to not be able to grant that desire to a friend who has been nothing but good and giving and kind, but recognizes that disappointment is a gift, too. If he could not care about someone, if he couldn't want and yearn, he would never have known that feeling.

There's a group playing a drinking game involving dropping classes of a clear liquid into pints of beer and quaffing them down, he answers when their cheering has died down. ] ...Before I came here, bondage meant something different to me. Trying to, [ his eyes flinch as he struggles to summon the words he wants, and he calmly pulls his cup of tea closer, ] Replace that meaning with something that... that many people invite. It's hard.

If I can envision it, I can understand it.

[Wriothesley is being honest, but he isn't being completely honest. These kind of details he would not share at this length with most. He would merely refuse the option without much else. It wasn't usually anyone's business why he might not want to partake in certain facets of sex.

He just happens to feel that he can entrust the information to Pinocchio. That it would stay between them.

And maybe, just maybe, he offers it because there is a chance that a no will not stay a no. That a sliver of a chance lies deep down.]

Kinks are not too different from finding a hobby or interest, you know. People sometimes know they like or want that, but sometimes one doesn't truly know until they've tried it. [A hand raises to tangle in Pinocchio's hair. It's a casual, friendly touch.] Not that I am trying to say that your experience is like that since we are comparing two very different things. What I'm more so trying to say is that we can try it. If you do not like it we can also stop. It isn't like what it was before. You have control in this situation. Stopping is fine.

[He pats the back of Pinocchio's head affectionately.] Sometimes replacing those experiences with something better can do a lot to help. Sometimes one can find solace in putting a more pleasurable experience where a bad one once sat. If you don't want to try, then we don't have to. There are plenty of things that we can partake. I want you to have a good experience with me, Pinocchio.

[Pinocchio's consent obviously means much more than his personal pleasure.]

[ His reaction to that friendly touch speaks of how welcome it is, leaning into his palm, briefly closing his eyes, that slight tightening of his mouth that's almost a small smile. Wriothesley speaks like he knows what it was like in Krat, he thinks.

Was Fontaine like Krat? Beautiful, but built up by exploitation? That nobody was ever free, even the wealthy who benefited the most from the puppet industry and the machinations of the Alchemists?

If he pushes on and breaks off from the past, will he become like Wriothesley? Someone that people like and want to be around? Dependable and knowledgeable? Pinocchio has something to prove, it's why he resolves himself to learn, to grow, to become someone people like Wriothesley can depend on. He feels warmth in his chest and prickling on his face, and turns his blush towards his cup of tea as he drinks. ]

I want to try everything you'll teach me, [ he nods slightly, once, a determined affirmation that perhaps seems more like he's steeling himself for battle than negotiating kink, but then, this is also the friend who nearly always assumes a Power Stance like he's one moment from marching into a fight. ] So I can be there for you if I become someone who makes you feel safe.

[If only Wriothesley could show Pinocchio Fontaine. Fontaine, by all means, was a good place. A place will justice sat as the ideal, it lead to a land filled with people whom wanted to live mostly honest lives. Most of the time. He loved Fontaine with all his heart despite everything that he had gone through.

No, his experiences are more personal. Failed by the people who he should have been able to trust most. Raised like cattle to be slaughtered even. Failed by the system. There was no moment where something or someone had failed him.

And so he resolved to never be someone who failed another. They would not suffer as he did.]

Well, it so happens I have plenty that can be taught. It seems that you'll just be a constant in my life, huh? [He likes Pinocchio's determination. His want to learn and his want to grow. It was endearing and it was respectable. So many people easily are happy to live a more complacent life, so he values someone who is willing to move forward.] Oh, you really are determined to sweep me off my feet. You keep that up, and I might verily swoon.

[Why his tone comes off light and joking, there is bits of truth in it. He does find himself more trusting of Pinocchio than he is with others. It might only be just a little now, but a seed easily will bloom into something more and he finds something akin to home with Pinocchio. The similarities in dress and the smells of metal and the tick of cogs that reminds him of the Fortress and Fontaine.

He is deeply attracted to the other in ways that is more than just their looks.] How about we finish up our meal here and you can have your first lesson then.

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nsfw mention, from here on out kink is getting discussed (clumsily)

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