Alternative Methods.

[doubletap]

Has sex become repetitious? Feeling sore in certain areas? Well, good news! Your boyfriend has sent you on a quest to find different ways of having fun gay sex. Yay!

Find the following people and seek out their knowledge:

• Arcade Israel Gannon (=D)
  
• Jimmy (Westside)
  
• Old Ben (Freeside)
  
• Doctor Alex Richards (Novac)
  
• Ignacio Rivas (Helios One)

Good luck, Wanderer!

Comments

[goodfight]

The response to his generous offer is four shots of hated tequila going straight into Arcade's mouth. Neil finds himself watching, confusion setting in. "...You getting information overload?"

Duh.

[teamdonotwant]

He ignores Neil, and waves his hand in an exaggerated motion. "This is an area of discretion, correct? As much as a tent with a flap for a door can be...." He trails off, a moment of dismay, then continues. "So let's be discrete and practice blatancy, shall we? It will be fun."

He says this with all the enthusiasm of a dead man, and makes the number go up to six in a moment more.

[goodfight]

Oh, boy. Neil might have pushed the envelope a bit too far. Arcade downs his fifth and sixth shots as the younger man considers where things are headed to. He continues to watch the other, the bemusement changing into curiosity.

"Hit me with your blatancy, then," says Neil.

[teamdonotwant]

Ah, good. An open and willing mind. Arcade hates tequila but Neil is cute. "God, I hope I didn't say that out loud." I don't think I did. Maybe-- "That was probably too much," he says, staring at the shot glass. He squints. The glass is blurry. Or dirty. "I don't remember if this was clean." What had he been doing? Oh, right. Neil.

Neil who has the sex problems of a boyfriend with a too high appetite. "I told you it'd be better to look elsewhere," Arcade says, pointing the glass at Neil. "Now look at this... coming to me for advice. You know the last time I had sex was... Probably five years ago. You were probably underage then. Now I just have sex with myself." Too much information. Too much. But. "But hey. That's what you want information on, right? Jerking the gherkin."

[goodfight]

Before Neil could ask exactly what Arcade hopes he didn't say aloud, the older man continues. He slides into that lovely territory where alcohol begins to take away the harsh edges and general coherency and damn if it isn't hard as hell for Neil to keep a straight face.

He quirks a small smile, managing not to chuckle. "Jerking the gherkin? Seriously?" Another shake of the head. "Besides, I wasn't planning on going to people for advice until...it was recommended to me. And you were named as one of those men."

[teamdonotwant]

"One of them?" he sputters, placing the glass down a little too hard as he misjudges the distance. "Are you telling me Mr. Courier Six himself told you to come to me?"

He should kill him. He hates him. "Why does Alex hate me so much?"

[goodfight]

Neil raises both hands, his palms out. "Don't look at me," he starts. "He probably just thought you were a good choice. Or is trolling the hell out of you."

[teamdonotwant]

"It's always pain and mocking with him," he soliloquizes, face a visage of pain. "I don't understand why he can't just like me and be friends with me."

Instead of sending his hot boyfriend to ask about sex. Arcade probably... shouldn't have drank in these circumstances.

[goodfight]

That admittance has a ring of pain, and Neil feels a guilty tinge somewhere within him. Probably shouldn't have pushed Arcade to drinking, yeah.

"He's your friend. He likes you," Neil retorts. "I was kidding about the trolling. This is a favor from me, not him. You can blame the pain and mocking on me."

[teamdonotwant]

Staring. Staring at the pretty words that are probably lies.

"...You said there was a list. And I was on it."

[goodfight]

"Of course, you were on the list," Neil continues, as if speaking of something simple. "Alex is my only resource for sleeping with people. He has more resources. Of course, he'd have you as a resource."

He sighs. "It doesn't mean you're depraved. Just means you know more about the subject than either of us."

[teamdonotwant]

"You're trying to win me over, Neil Park, and it's working. Your charisma is at an all time high." Or something. Arcade (carefully) repours the shots again, and this time holds one to Neil.

"Interesting handjobs, was it?"

[goodfight]

The compliment (sorta) has Neil Park scratching the back of his head in an attempt to kill the awkward rising within him. He continues the conversation, nevertheless, with his other hand taking and accepting the drink.

"I believe you said 'jerking the gherkin,'" he says. "I'm assuming that's what you call an interesting handjob?"

[teamdonotwant]

"That's a lonely handjob," he replies with a self-mocking grin, before drinking the remaining one. He winces, dropping the glass on the table. He (does not stumble) moves to a stool nearby and perches atop it. Mostly. Has to straighten himself.

"Interesting ones involve wetness and texture."

[goodfight]

"Oh." Neil looks at the liquid swirling in the shot glass, assessing the contents. He politely ignores any unnatural movements coming from the other man, and with a shrug, he tips the glass back into his mouth. The tequila burns slowly down his throat, leaving behind a funny aftertaste.

Neil makes a face at the glass. Tequila, unfortunately, is no whiskey.

"Wetness and texture?" he echoes to Arcade, wiping his mouth.

[teamdonotwant]

"Digression and blatancy," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"It's more comfortable when you or your partner's fluids are making things easier, correct?

[goodfight]

Neil doesn't need (nor want) to think back to the past to consider this question. "So basically, wetter is better?"

Yes, it's cringe-worthy. No, he's not going back on that description.

[teamdonotwant]

"Wetter and warmer," he states, keeping the self-deprecating look. "Back in the old world, they had lubricant. We have to make due with what we have."

God, he hopes they're using lubricant for anal sex-- No, no, not drunk enough for that question.

"For example," he continues, moving a hand idly. "Instamash."

[goodfight]

Wetter and warmer. Alright. Body temperature, fluids, and the jars of red paste the Courier carries around should be enough to fit that descriptor. Neil thinks it over, his mind working through the imagery.

Only to have it be ruined by a single word. He makes a very obvious face. "Instamash?" he says in dismay. "But why?"

[teamdonotwant]

This is enough to balance somewhat, and Arcade grins. "Texture," he recalls. "Add a small amount of warm water and you have a very nice textured fluid to use."

Just to ruin things more for you.

[goodfight]

Very nice texture or no-- "That's still wasting perfectly good food," Neil mutters unhappily. "What the hell is wrong with this region?"

And now he won't be able to look at Instamash the same way again. Thanks, Arcade. Thanks a lot.

[teamdonotwant]

The grin stays, more Arcade Israel Gannon than most. He leans forward on the table. "Well, if texture isn't your style, how about a pleasant tingling sensation?"

[goodfight]

The hint at 'pleasant tingling sensation' serves to remind Neil of Alex's comment nearly a year ago regarding his radioactive self, and the young man flushes bright red. He, however, manages to pay his burning skin no mind.

"Whaddya mean?" he asks, tone wary.

[teamdonotwant]

...A grin which widens at the color in Neil's cheeks. "Ant nectar," he explains. "A thicker fluid that tingles on sensitive skin. A lot of ant secretions actually affect the human body."

[goodfight]

That widening grin does nothing to deter the existence named Neil Park from delving into a subject he probably has more experience with than most.

"Like reduced cognitive-behavioral functions and interpersonal skills," he retorts. "Might get a nice tingle out of it, but the cost's pretty steep. And I'd like to keep my smarts and my charming personality, thanks."