[Adult] Wild Hare

[Xiao Walker Yu]

And so Xiao found himself weaving his hand into the cowboy’s hair, pulling the long tresses and revelling in the feeling of them in his hands. It was all too easy to slot himself against the other man, probably, Xiao thought, because they were too similar. He knew the mask he usually wore was slipping, but it seemed that Cash did not seem to be too preoccupied with picking his mind apart. Briefly, Xiao considered if he would let him, peek inside the mind that had abandoned his family and a life laid out in front of him for uncertainty, for London of all things.

Definitely not, Xiao decided, focusing instead on the straining of his leather trousers and the American in front of him.

It was easier than usual to lose himself in more physical sensations, physical pleasure, to replace idle musings and the plague of a conscience with feelings and reactions to said feelings, so he could not feel too upset when his mind returned to him, when the world seeped back into his peripherals as he laid down next to his companion in a bed built for one with his trousers long since discarded and a layer of sweat coating his skin. The routine came naturally, probably overly so, for the upright nobleman’s son he was supposed to be, but it was an identity shed simply enough, and Xiao did not have it in him to pretend he was upset about that. So for the moment, Xiao contented himself with the company of one Cassius Boone, who had so graciously allowed Xiao into his home (or, his current residence, Xiao was not under the impression this arrangement was anything even remotely sentimental) and who had allowed him the privilege of a proper distraction, even if, as Xiao had sensed, between the two of them there was no one fooled by Xiao’s smile or the false wit in his tone. The loosening of his shoulders however, was not fake, and Xiao could genuinely say that his time with the American had helped, at least temporarily, which probably said wonders about his mental stability, but that was arguably irrelevant.

His eyes carved shapes into Cash’s skin as he tried to flatten his hair, or at least prevent it from looking thoroughly run-through as it had been, Xiao could hear his own heart in his ears, but it was a steady thing that spoke of a rhythm established only through the sorts of activities like this one. If Xiao had a better sense of smell, he would have probably be able to smell the rosemary from the oil used, though if he had more sense in general, he probably would not have arrived at Cash’s doorstep in the first place. There was no room for regret now, though, especially since Xiao could not produce any if he tried. He traced his thumb over the other man’s shoulder, humming under his breath. “Thank you, Mister Boone,” and in spite of the title, or the drawl that seemed to come naturally to Xiao when he wasn’t keen on being serious, there was a sort of sincerity in his tone, the type that alluded to the idea that it was not the services administered he was grateful for, at least not for purely physical reasons. Xiao picked at the silk of the fabric coating Cash’s arms. He should probably return to his own residence soon, perhaps he could manage to sneak in before Alistair was any the wiser, clean up and prevent any sort of worry that could take root at one’s… friend? Confidant? Xiao wasn’t sure, returning in the early hours of the morning flushed and exhausted.

He leaned in for a kiss, figuring it would be the last for at least a little while, strangely demure considering all that they had done. “I don’t think it would be wise of me to stay here for much longer,” Xiao decided, thinking of his own situation as well as the other men that slept on the other side of the walls, men that would awake come the morning and most likely be more than displeased at Xiao departing from the cowboy’s room.

[Cassius Boone]

There were firsts for everything, and this particular night had proven a first in many ways. The clothing, for starters, and not just for Cash. Xiao had looked damn good in the leather trousers, and the cowboy himself hadn't felt half bad wearing the silk suit from China. There was also the far less pleasant first of "trying to fuck someone with a broken arm," which had led to a more passive experience than Cash was used to.

Decidedly not an unpleasant one, though.

Aside from the occasional jostle, it hadn't been too bad at all to deal with his arm. It had also been pleasant to relax and simply watch the expressions that had played across the other man's face; the coyness, the flush that spread across his face, the pleasure. A successful evening, to be certain, so long as success was measured in the warm, languid afterglow of orgasm.

"Seems to me like I should be thankin' you, Mr. Walker." He cracked an eye open, having been resting his eyes in the comfort of the situation: a warm room, comfortable clothing, a satisfied prick, and a sweet thing tucked against his side. A soft hum accompanied the kiss, though afterwards he had to sigh at the pragmatism offered. "We got a few more minutes at least," he countered, stealing another kiss. There wasn't too much heat behind it – he wasn't a young man anymore, as though his body could ever let him forget it – but he simply liked kissing the other man and didn't see a reason to deny himself.

There was also the curiosity, put off in favor of other activities, that finally had control again. "It ain't none of my business," Cash started, pushing himself to sit a bit straighter and grimacing briefly at how it moved his bad arm. "But if you wanna talk about what brought you here, I'm all ears. I ain't complainin' about where the evening went, mind, but I don't take kindly to my friends bein' given any grief." Xiao had been a bit rough around the edges, but hadn't seemed like he'd been roughed up, per se. Cash certainly hadn't noticed any bruises on his soft skin, though he'd looked like he'd rolled in the dirt a bit before showing up at the boarding house.

More than anything, Xiao was a man who seemed very exacting of his appearance. If he didn't want to fess up to what had happened earlier in the night, about why he'd looked like he'd run through a barnyard, it was his prerogative. But Cash really did think of him as a friend, and there'd be Hell to pay if someone had started trouble with

[Xiao Walker Yu]

It was easy to draw out the minutes before he had to leave, pretend there were no places he had to be, so Xiao did, at least for the next couple moments. He relaxed into the bedsheets and into Cash, eyes drifting to the ceiling as their lips pulled apart. He took in the other man’s words with a pensive look, considering them before anything had to be said. Xiao waited for him to finish before straightening himself up in turn. Xiao swallowed, choosing his words with the sort of care one needed as late into the night as it was, in a language that was not his own. “I suppose it is at least a little bit of your business.” Xiao decided, “Seeing as I am here, afterall.”

He took the time to run his hand through his hair, Xiao was of the opinion that one could never have too many friends, but often, he found the trouble necessary to keep them was too taxing to be worth the companionship. It would be easy to lie, offer some sort of ruse that would tie a neat bow onto whatever picture Xiao had painted for Cash’s mind, or to simply urge the conversation into something else, something less immediate and less honest.

So it seemed there was a decision to be made. For what it was worth, Xiao found Cash made quite a good friend.

He took the time to find the other man’s eyes, tongue pressing to the back of his teeth. It was not like this was Alistair, the man who held Xiao’s world in his hands, Cash would be easy enough to slip away from, if it came to that. “There was an issue, at a coffee house a little ways away from here.” He was honestly not certain how far he had travelled, too occupied mentally with other, more pressing matters than those of distance. Xiao was almost quiet when he spoke, but with no one else in the room besides the two of them, it wasn’t difficult to hear. “With the,” what had the good surgeon said? “The Vice Suppression Society.” His brows furrowed. “A terribly English name, was there really a need to be so dreadful with it?” Xiao asked rhetorically, once again betraying his distaste for certain aspects of English culture. Not that his own was one full of rampant homosexuality, but the British had an aura of stiff boredom that could seldom be replicated. He could not decide if Mortimer was someone he wanted to speak about aloud, with someone other than hurried passersby to attest to their interactions, but it seemed as if the name would not come to his tongue anyway, it dragged its hooks down his throat and would not release him.

“Wrong place, wrong time, I suppose.” Xiao muttered, “I did not want to return home… With the state I was in.” His gaze flickered to where his clothes laid, abandoned, recalling the sight of his mussed up appearance in the reflection of a shop’s window that he had passed on his way to the other man’s abode. Cash would be more understanding than Alistair, Xiao assumed, or at least, less insistent.

It was not as if he was protecting Alistair's sense of modesty, that was quite the unproductive idea, but the idea of him worrying about Xiao had him shifting uncomfortably in place. Perhaps if he was more acute, Xiao would admit it was more him protecting himself from Alistair or at least, the fickle sentiments that came attached with his title and their relationship, but Xiao had come to Cash to very pointedly avoid all of that. Something that he really hoped to achieve.

[Cassius Boone]

It wasn't unlike training the fear out of an anxious horse. Cash had put that big, scary thing out in the arena, in front of the shy stallion, and now it was just a matter of waiting to see how the poor thing would respond. In this case, it was something far worse than a loud piece of canvas or a steer; a personal question, the kind that they had seemingly been careful to likewise avoid. Cash had no preconceptions about what they were to each other. Sure, Xiao was a friend, and he certainly liked tumbling the other man (though there was certainly a better term for it, given how little tumbling he could do with his damn broken arm).

They had met all of twice, and if they never met again in this life or the next, Cash would be hard-pressed to find his heart bleeding too much for the loss.

But they were here, and Xiao was a friend and a good fuck, and more than anything Cash hated to see how jumpy and dusty he'd been, standing outside of the boarding house's door. It didn't matter if the man was good or not; near nothing he could've done to prompt some kind of hassling would be considered justified in Cash's opinion, or at least so justified that he wouldn't take it as a personal affront.

Finally the words came, and the cowboy let the other get them all out. His eyebrows did raise slightly at the abbreviated description of the night's events, but not a trace of judgment passed his expression. Not much of anything did, really; had to let the stallion get it all out of his system, and only once he was certain nothing else would be forthcoming did he sigh softly. Cash had been at the receiving end of the Vice Suppression Society before, but usually only incidentally. Circuses weren't their favorite thing in the world, even if it wasn't near as bad as being caught by them (or almost caught, from the sounds of it) at a coffee house. There weren't too terribly many of those in this area, and Cash could guess exactly which one had earned the ire of the VSS.

"Buncha prudes who'd be a lot happier if they pulled those sticks out their asses and got fucked up 'em instead," he dismissed in annoyance, a frown pulling at his lips. "They rough you up, or did you get outta there before they caught you?" Cash almost wanted to ask who he'd been there with; ask if he'd known what kind of "coffee house" he'd been inside of. Instead he raised a casual hand to smooth an obstinate piece of Xiao's hair that hadn't complied with his earlier attempt at grooming. "You got a safe place to go to, though? Even if it's an uncomfortable conversation waitin' for you there."

It was cruel, maybe, but there was no way he could stay here, and they both knew it. Not for the first time, Cash regretted the lack of privacy the boarding house offered. If things continued to go well with the duke, he'd have to bite the bullet and find a real apartment to rent. It wouldn't solve all the possible complications, but at least it would mean that someone like Xiao could stay the night, instead of being carefully and quietly kicked out.

[Xiao Walker Yu]

Xiao swallowed around a knot in his throat, honesty did not come naturally to him, not anymore, but he did not have it in him to regret what he had just said. He could, he probably would later, but it was easy to be vulnerable when there was little to lose. His head tipped towards the ceiling and, after Cash had broken the short silence, Xiao found it in himself to laugh at the other man’s words, though there was a twinge of nervousness he tried to ignore. Imperceptible, if it wasn’t being looked for, Xiao hoped it went unnoticed. “A good fucking does tend to loosen up even the most strict of spirits.” Xiao mused idly, he was not usually one for profanities, but it seemed to fit the moment. Besides, a foul-mouthed cowboy was the last sort he would expect to admonish him.

“I do not think I was their biggest priority,” Xiao decided, his way of dismissing any concern circulating that line of thought. He sensed there was more that the American wanted to ask, more to know, more to say, but Xiao was nothing if not difficult to wrangle. Xiao thought he had avoided the worst of them, the constables and busy-bodies focused on intercepting anyone of any status. Xiao was one of the many nameless immigrants, dressed (at least, mostly) in average clothing with no obvious attributes, he figured he was just another face in the crowd.

A stark contrast, in Xiao’s opinion, to his previous companion, someone with more to lose if he had stayed by Xiao’s side.

That was probably what Xiao clung to, even now, though he doubted his face betrayed any part of that.

Xiao leaned into the touch, a laugh slipping from his throat. Quiet, but ultimately warm. Warmer than Xiao had expected, probably at the notion of Cassius being concerned about him. It was not as if Cassius was cruel, far from that, but Xiao was of the opinion that he did not need to be fussed over in even the slightest capacity. Additionally, when they had first managed to encounter each other, it was in the midst of Cassius falling for a rather simple scheme, though probably attributed to his more genuine nature, it had been a first impression that had perhaps led Xiao to assume he would, out of the two of them, not be the one who needed to be worried over. An assumption proven false, if Xiao were to reevaluate, but that was neither here nor there.

It was either incredibly realistic or slightly depressing that Xiao had not even entertained the idea of staying over until the sun had risen, rather used to the unstable nature that came attached to these sorts of affairs, and while he did like to tease, Xiao did not wish for Cassius to feel bad. Not because of him, not after all he had done.

So he waved his hand dismissively, leveling Cassius with an easy smile, made easier by the dulling thrum of pleasure coursing through him, though its effect was probably lessened by the fatigue growing behind his eyes. “Awkward, most likely, but nothing to write home about,” Xiao decided, picturing a certain Duke in the back of his mind. He worried, Xiao could expect as much, but Xiao worried about the Duke in turn so he could not be too upset about the arrangement, as peculiar as it was. After a moment, Xiao decided he should probably return home, or at least start to, before he grew too tired to function properly. It was easy to forget his situation, Cassius was warm, his bed was comfortable enough and his company was better, but Xiao still needed his wits about him to bring himself home, so he stood up and went about redressing himself and, for the second time that evening, returning his appearance to as proper as he could manage.

[Cassius Boone]

You can lead a horse to water... In all honesty, Xiao had shared more than Cash had really expected. Some things weren't easy to share, even from those who were normally gregarious when it came to the truth. Hell, Cash himself was always inclined to be a bit too honest, when it came down to it. Even still, there were things he wouldn't – couldn't – share too readily.

"Probably not," he agreed with a low hum. "Nothin' gives 'em the horn more than catchin' some hoighty toighty bein' sinful." If it were really just about vice suppression, there were plenty of places that they could raid. They could take inverts and worse into the jails by the fistful every night. But that's not what they wanted. They wanted a big fish, to smear in the papers and drag about on a stage, decrying the moral failures of the city and the aristocracy.

Shit luck for poor Xiao to get caught up in all of that.

At least he had somewhere safe to go back to. Cash had to wonder again, if only briefly, what home looked like for a man half a world away from his actual home. More to the point, what home looked like for a man whose career could be anything, but certainly had to be something at least a little fancy. Xiao dressed well, and for all that he came to Limehouse for the market and the coffee houses, the cowboy would be willing to put money on his place of residence being somewhere nice and fancy.

There was no animosity in the thought, though. If anything, it just amused Cash. Here he was talking about prudes hunting down the big fish, but maybe Xiao was a bigger fish than he seemed. "Well, so long as you got somewhere to go," Cash allowed, sighing as that warm body abandoned him. Still, he watched absolutely unabashed as the other man went through the casual motions of dressing. It wasn't as enticing as watching him strip, but it was still a kind of intimacy that he had always enjoyed.

"Hey, before you run off," the American started, pulling himself to his feet with a swallowed groan. Grinning a bit sheepishly, he gestured to his disheveled suit. "Mind helpin' just a bit more?" He could get it off himself, probably, but it would be a bit easier with Xiao's help, and he hadn't run off quite yet.

[Xiao Walker Yu]

Xiao’s lips pursed as he put himself together, layer after layer of English clothing fastening around him again as if he could cover up everything andstow away anything remotely improper, foreign and sinful about himself. Though, Xiao knew, it would take much more than a nice suit to entirely cloak himself sufficiently enough for those who would be a part of the Vice Suppression Society. He fidgeted with his cravat, pulling it tighter against his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror. Eyes darted to Cassius in bed, over his shoulder, Xiao watched the dim light dance in the other man’s gaze.

After a moment, “Oh, of course.” Xiao nodded, an easy grin making its way onto his features, letting any remaining worries spill away from his mind. He stepped forward as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, straightening it out and smoothing out his trousers. It was easier on Xiao’s fingers, and his sanity, to be undoing Cassius’ more eastern attire. He let his hands feel around the soft material as he pulled it away from the other man’s frame, careful not to jostle the cowboy’s injury anymore than entirely necessary. He hummed under his breath, tongue tracing his lips, not entirely immune to the sight of Cassius in that sort of clothing.

What that meant for him and his bedroom proclivities in the future, Xiao did not know, nor did he wish to ponder anything, especially since he was on his way out.

When all was entirely done with, when Xiao was in his own clothes as decently as he could manage and Cassius was in whatever he asked Xiao to put him into, Xiao found it in him to bid the cowboy adieu with a wink and a grin, a promise to see the man in the future, whether to fall into bed again or not, Xiao realized belatedly he didn’t have the biggest of preferences.

Cassius was a good friend, Xiao had decided that much, and as long as Xiao managed to keep his business firmly his, he found that the relationship was something he would like to hold on to. The night’s air bit sharply at Xiao’s nose as he tried to make his way out of the boarding house with minimal witnesses, but it was in a way he found sobering, and even if he was cold, he was in much better spirits than he had been when he had arrived, and surely that was what mattered. It was late, but Xiao assumed he could slip into his own bed with little hassle. He stretched out, catlike in the empty street, figuring with a slow yawn that he could manage fielding any of Alistair’s concerns when the sun rose.

Xiao had enough experience to wriggle out of even the most concerning examinations, and even if he was a bit out of practice, he figured he would manage well enough. He always did.