forum two men in love (o/o) (EXTERMELY gay pining type romance)

Started October 08, 2023 by Deleted user

tune

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Hmm, I wouldn’t know anything about that given that I’m a trashy white boy but I’m sure that you’ll write it better than I can!

Alright then. Are we ready to start or no?

Hmm, idk. Do you have any other questions? Otherwise yeah!

I don’t have any questions right now, no ^^

Oki!! Then let’s begin!!

How do we want our two to meet?

Hmmm idk. Lotta possibilities, since Anthurium is just out on the streets. Maybe they’re offering services in a bar and Cecil just happens to be there? Idk if he’s one for alcohol tho

Hmm, idk maybe he’s there for the ✨ambiance✨ becos my boy is nothing if not a drama queen of an author?? And they meet??

Lol sure, that works

The glass cut into the little lemon slice like a knife, the water inside still and bitter. Anthurium stared into it, adjusting their vision to see their reflection in the water. He looked tired, a little out of it. It made sense, there were barely any plants or rich earth around here. There was water, though. In his cup, and raining outside. He could hear a faint rumble of thunder just now. Even then, the rain was tainted by the smoke in the air. Even then, the water in their cup was likely not clean. Anthurium knew they would always be at least a little sick, living here. But there wasn’t another viable option.
A faint cough made him look up. The pub was not very full today, but Anthurium found that rain tended to bring in more clients. More things to do inside than outside, they supposed. They could hear the soft tinkling of glasses and bottles, the faint hum and whir of machinery in the back. Across from him was a young human woman looking down at the table, only occasionally glancing up at them to send a silent message of some kind. They could see her hands; there was a ring on her finger, but he wasn’t going to question it.
“Miss,” he greeted softly. “You have payment?”
She nodded, her eyes low. She didn’t look particularly eager, just solemn, like they were. Just wanting something different. An escape.
“You understand that I’m not human?”
She nodded again.
“Then come. There’s rooms in the back.” He stood up, and offered his hand. “I’ll help you forget your troubles, at least for a little while.”
She looked up at them, looking a little surprised. She took their hand, and he led the way to the back.

Cecil was smoking in a corner, two of the lovely young whores in this establishment debating on how “large” he was and how much preparation one would need. He scribbled on some paper, something about the ugliness of outer beauty. How easily it could be used, crushed like a flower, no, blown away like sand. Ultimately, Cecil was bored here. He was always a little sicker out of his home than inside, where he kept a greenhouse full of lovely exotic plants and flowers that he hoped would entertain the stray cats and kittens that always seemed to be in and out of the house. To use someone for their outer beauty, that was the worst way to use someone if you were to break them.

Cecil was broken.

A few hours past midnight, a younger dryad of some sort (Cecil admitted he was not as educated on dryads as some of the other misfit species) wandered out, in a daze, following a young woman to a counter where payment was exchanged and goodbyes were kissed and overall, not much seemed like it had been worth doing. Cecil studied the dryad carefully. He was pretty, but tired, and not really Cecil’s type. Cecil wished, oftentimes, for a strong man who could treat him like the woman he wished he could play. It was a strange desire, for normally he felt very hard, masculine, thoughtful. Selling poetry out on the streets and making up verses for young lovers, that was his way of whoring out his body. For poetry made up his body, song made up his mind, and words his soul. But in the deepest corners of desire he had, in the bedroom as one might say, he felt gentle, soft, and downright womanly. He wished he’d been born a bit more easy than all the roughness of his exterior. Perhaps as pretty as a dryad.

He found himself, not of his own accord, approaching the dryad. Nymph he was, Cecil didn’t make too much of his speech. “I have payment, if you consent to my advances, and if I may ask… which of the rooms shall be our accommodation if we are to proceed?” Truly, Cecil was brusque, to the point and very awkward at the end of the day. The two prostitutes from earlier frowned, hoping they’d have caught his attention. It was a survival thing, but Cecil knew he wasn’t that interested in the women of the night.

Anthurium watched as the woman left, just making sure she was alright. She didn’t appear to have brought an umbrella, though she did have a nice coat. A coat probably worth more than what she paid for his service.
He kept his eyes on the entrance, though it was difficult to ignore the large figure walking towards them now. They sincerely hoped it wasn’t a drunkard looking to pick a fight. But then, when Anthurium heard the large man speak, he was taken slightly aback. They looked up at him. This man’s voice did not quite match his stature, if Anthurium was being honest. But more than that, they could respect his bluntness. They looked him up and down. He could say no, he was a little tired from working with the woman, but this man looked like he came from a similar background as the woman. That’s money that Anthurium would take. It was interesting though, because this man didn’t look as human.
“I… consent to your advances, sir.” He smirked faintly. “And… I believe that would be up to you. I don’t think I’m the best person to choose a room that will accommodate your size.”

Cecil nodded. “If you would be able to show me to any room, I think I can make it work. I don’t want to take you away from your home territory.” he said, thinking of his greenhouse and how wild and beautiful it truly was. No, he wouldn’t risk it. His family might see him, and then what would become of him?

He looked towards the stairs and made his way up them with Anthurium in tow, handing the nymph a heavy, velvet coin purse that was aside from being expensive itself held quite a lot more money that Anthurium would be used to getting. Cecil didn’t really know how much you paid for these services, so he’d saved for months, and ended up paying Anthurium more than the nymph would make in a busy week of many clients. Upon further inspection, Cecil chose the largest room, and even then the ceiling was slightly low, causing him to crouch down just a bit.

He sat down on the bed, and proceeded to let out a long exhale. Anxiety gripped him like chains. “I’ve… never done this sort of thing before. Can you perhaps… explain how you’d like us to proceed? I’m not very experienced, I apologize.”

“Home territory, eh?” Anthurium chuckled to himself. They walked with the large man, the chuckle dying on their lips as he gave them the velvet purse. He squeezed it in his hands, shocked by the weight. A sort of gladness, a satisfaction filled him. He was happy he said yes. This made everything worth it.
They watched as the slightly nonhuman man sat down, closing the door behind them and leaning against the doorframe, jutting his hip out slightly.
“I can tell,” he remarked, raising a brow. “And I can tell you’re nervous.” The woman wasn’t experienced either. Or at least, not experienced in buying Anthurium’s kind of service. But she did know what she wanted. Boy, did she.
They leaned off the doorframe, walking over to the bed and sitting down by the man. “I must ask; specifically, not experienced in the act itself or not experienced with doing it with someone like me?” They played with a strand of hair that slipped out of his messy bun. “As for how to proceed, this is mainly about you and what you prefer. I can do whatever you’d like. Of course, it would be best if you calmed down a bit first. Perhaps the first order of business would be to make you more comfortable.” They glanced at him.