In Love's name and for Love's sake, I assert that I will employ the Art which is its gift in Love's service alone, rejecting all other usages.
I will spread joy and ease pain. I will fight to preserve what loves and rejoices well in its own way, and I will change no object or creature unless its joy and love, or that of the system of which it is part, are threatened.
To these ends, in the practice of my Art, I will put aside despair for hope, and hatred for love, when it is right to do so-- Until Universe's end.
Y/N
"I'd also probably try to sleep in their bed, I'm currently staying on some guy's couch and there are cockroaches. But the point is. You're hot."
"A big improvement. So what do you do other than not look at Tiktok, not jerk off to porn, and not buy nice clothes?"
"I've never really lived in one place long enough to get a therapist but I bet it helps."
"That would help too." Acquiring therapists from sketchy Indian pharmacies would probably be kidnapping.
A few hours later, Wen Ning is in bed with Nie Huaisang, learning that enthusiasm doesn't totally replace experience when it comes to kissing.
It's...not ideal, but unfortunately there's not a good way to skip the kind of incompetent phase. (Unless he levels and dumped the points into... ART, probably?)
But he can follow instruction, and that's worth something.
"So what you're saying is that you have no idea which end of the rope you'd like to be on."
He has made a Grave Error somewhere, but he's not sure where. "I, um... kissing is... good?" he says, trying to re-rail this conversation.
"Okay, so, some people like being tied up-- because they like the sensation or aesthetics of rope, or they like feeling out of control, or it's relaxing to know that you don't have to do anything because you can't even move--"