(From WN-17, don't read if you haven't read LNs/Manga and/or you are anime-only)
(ss credit: X (twitter), @keizuki...WN-17, Ch-4 Jinmao scene translation)
That is why I want people on 'Jinshi doesn't know consent'/'Maomao dislikes Jinshi's touch, antics, etc etc...' carriage to hold their horses and not jump the gun regarding Jinmao dynamic...Anime/Manga is very early in terms of adaptation of pace, many actions of Maomao, esp. wrt Jinshi, that feel ambiguous/disinterested to viewers/readers find their actual context quite later on in the volumes (even Maomao 's response in LN-5 scene)...It would do everyone good that instead of labelling Jinshi with all these predatory terms, they allow the story to finish....
If Maomao acted cordial with Jinshi back then only because of the power dynamic or was disinterested, she would not have teased him about that later on...The fact that Maomao remembered this 4 years later, should mean something, no?
AO3 | written for @corrodedcoffinfest day 28: never been kissed | rating: t | wc: 998 | cw: drinking, brief mentions of being used for sex in the past | POV: Steve | tags: pre-steddie; steve has a secret; spin the bottle gone wrong; robin and gareth are little shits (lovingly); eddie is a sweetheart; getting together | masterlist
Cheers fill the room as the narrow spout of the bottle stops, pointed squarely at Steve. Steve swallows thickly, refuses to look at the person who spun it. Instead, he fidgets with the hem of his pants where he’s sat cross-legged on the floor, his knee knocking against Robin – Robin, who’s been a sharp thorn in his side all night, matched only in her feral intensity by Gareth, who’s prodding insistently at his other side.
“Pucker up, buttercup.” Gareth laughs, makes obnoxious kissy noises as he leans against Steve.
“Knock it off, man.” Steve forces a laugh, pushes Gareth back, watches as he grins maniacally, all too similar to –
“Promise I don’t bite.” Eddie grins, cocks his head to the side as he licks his lips. “Unless you want me to, sweetheart.”
A chorus of oooohs surrounds them, breaking the last of Steve’s composure.
“I didn’t realize we were back in 9th grade.” Steve glares down at the group as he stands, their bodies formed in a spindly semi-circle around a mostly empty wine bottle. There’s a few drops just beneath the spout, a deep red seeping into the rug. “Jesus, you couldn’t at least rinse it out first?”
Robin grabs the bottle, chugs the remaining liquid, their friends cheering her on. She releases it with a smack and a smile before thunking the bottle back down onto the stained carpet. “Happy now?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Steeeeve. C’mon, it’s fun!”
Steve focuses his glare on his best friend. “Yeah. Fun. I’m gonna–” He waves his hand at the door, “--have a cigarette. Or three.”
She furrows her brow. “Wait, Steve–”
“No, Robin.” He steps through the circle, feels a hand grasp his calf, warm and strong, fingertips grazing the skin peeking out from beneath his sweatpants. He turns, looks down at the hand, traces his eyes slowly up. Up the wrist, the inked forearm, the sleeve bunched around the elbow, the broad shoulder, the pale expanse of neck, the stubble-lined chin, the soft open lips, the pinkness, the dampness, the–
“Harrington. Hey, man, you good?”
Steve blinks hard, tries to focus his eyes anywhere but those lips. Lands on eyes instead, full and warm and so, so brown. “Ye-yeah, I’m good. Chill. Fine.”
Eddie squints, those beautiful, warm brown eyes filling with concern. He opens his mouth to speak, but Steve stops him.
“Seriously, I’m fine. Gonna go smoke. Have fun.” Steve wrestles his leg away from Eddie’s burning grip, and retreats into the cool night air, only allowing himself to breathe once he feels the cool brick exterior of the pool house against his back as he slumps to the ground.
“Can I sit?’
Steve shrugs.
Eddie slides down next to him, starts fidgeting with his rings. “Hey, man, look, I’m so–”
Steve shakes his head. “Don’t.”
Eddie turns, eyebrows pinched together. “But–”
“No, Eddie. It’s fine. I told you, I’m fi–”
“Jesus, Harrington, you gotta stop with that.”
Steve blinks, slowly turns toward Eddie, pressing his cheek into the cool brick as Eddie’s heated gaze locks on him. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry. I mean, you don’t gotta do anything, but like – fuck, I mean–” Eddie groans, rubs his hand down his face. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I made you uncomfortable and that’s not okay. I crossed a boundary – no, listen, please.” Eddie holds up his hand imploringly, watches as some protest dies on Steve’s lips. “I crossed a boundary. Even if I didn’t know it existed, it’s still wrong, and I'm sorry.” Eddie lowers his hand. “You don’t have to accept it. Just want you to know, I never want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Steve blinks, swallows down the sweet taste of Eddie’s words, feels them settle thick inside of him, warm and real. He sees the sincerity in Eddie’s gaze, the anxious fiddling of his fingers along the zipper of the jacket Eddie must’ve slipped on when he came out. Tears burn in Steve’s eyes as he realizes it’s his jacket Eddie’s wearing.
“I– fuck, man.” Steve laughs, wipes his eyes. “Thank you, yeah – seriously, thanks. I just– the game, it–” He lets out a breath, worries his lip between his teeth. “It’s stupid, but–”
“Hey, it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you. I prom–.”
“I’veneverbeenkissed.”
Steve avoids Eddie’s gaze for all of three seconds before he has to see the expression there. It’s one of confusion, major confusion.
“You’ve…never been kissed?”
Steve nods.
“But– but, you, high school, all those girls–”
Steve laughs, a hollow, weak thing. “Yeah, I know. Turns out you get a girl off once on a dare as a freshman and, next thing you know, you become king of some hollow court where people only swing by to get off. No one wants to kiss when they could get a quick and dirty orgasm and leave.” He shrugs. “It’s not what I’m wanted for.”
“Fuck that, I want to.”
Steve’s eyes widen. “What?”
“That’s not exactly how I meant to–” Eddie mutters, but smiles, anxious, soft, real. “I want to. Kiss you, that is. Hold your hand. Take you on a date, if you’d let me.”
Steve swallows down a lump in his throat, whispers out, “Don’t lie to me, Eds.”
“I’m not. I promise.” Eddie reaches out, tentatively grabs Steve’s shaking hand. “All those girls – they’re idiots, frankly, for not wanting to kiss you or keep you around. And, uh–” He clears his throat. “I’d really love the chance to try to give you even an ounce of what you deserve.”
Steve lets out a shaky breath. “You’re…serious?”
“Most serious I’ve been about anything since moving in with Wayne.”
Steve pauses, looks at this beautiful, kind man, thinks of how much he wants this, and decides fuck it. “Okay. You’ve got your work cut out for you, Munson."
Eddie grins, squeezes Steve’s hand. “I’m gonna woo you so hard, sweetheart. Just you wait.”
Ugh, had to get them out of my system before going to sleep, but hey at least it's finally on paper, right? Anyways saw this one post on here saying that d3r might have literally meant 'catching Avary' and so I drew these gay ahh bitches together.
(I'm really sorry I'd absolutely repost it under the post but I kinda lost track of it😔😔, if I find it I'll repost this sketch under it but until then..)
