[ all his life, sasha has operated in small circles. handfuls of friends that rarely changed in configuration, careful, cautious steps taken in directions only when he knows that certain people aren't looking. it's not that he doesn't have anyone to tell about jens; now that this evening has happened, he can tell friends at the university that he's been on a date, that he's met someone he really likes, and turn bright pink at their inevitable enthusiasm for such a development. but his family?
he remembers with stunning clarity how terrified he'd been the first time he'd kissed another boy, the way it set a thrill through him the same way that kissing a girl had, how he'd agonised over that thrill and wondered if it was wrong, because his parents had insinuated as much in idle, throwaway conversations. his sisters — there's a possibility he could chance it with them, but he's not brave enough to dare. maybe he doesn't give them enough credit. in the end, madrid is far enough away from his family that he feels less suffocated by the fear of what they'd think of him, if they knew that men and women both alike could set his pulse fluttering, if they looked at him right, brushed his shoulder just so.
the way jens does.
sasha falls into like very easily. he attaches very firmly to others whilst trying his hardest not to let it show too much. the thought of becoming bothersome or irritating frightens him awfully, but is constantly in battle with his natural inclination to express every emotion that flickers into his mind. years of practice have made him something of an expert at managing it, but not at changing the fact that it happens. that he's only met jens twice, and yet he'd be perfectly happy to let this man step into his personal space and kiss him senseless. or to be the one doing that, in fact. for all that he worries about how he comes across to others, sasha isn't terribly oblivious; quite the opposite. the fact that whatever is felt here is reciprocated doesn't require a rocket scientist to figure it out. ]
And I'll have to start paying more attention.
[ somewhat abruptly, sasha bursts into laughter. as much as he tries to dilute certain outward emotions, it's sometimes unexpected when his restraints start falling away, or when he can't catch himself in time. it's a bright, young sound, slightly muffled by the way sasha slaps his hand over his mouth, ducking his head with faint embarrassment, though he doesn't apologise for it. ]
That — I don't know what I was expecting you to say, but it wasn't that. [ the sentence peters out into more soft, huffing laughs as he shakes his head, pulling in his lips slightly as he stares at jens with incredulous brightness. ] That was terrible.
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Date: 2016-05-20 11:29 pm (UTC)he remembers with stunning clarity how terrified he'd been the first time he'd kissed another boy, the way it set a thrill through him the same way that kissing a girl had, how he'd agonised over that thrill and wondered if it was wrong, because his parents had insinuated as much in idle, throwaway conversations. his sisters — there's a possibility he could chance it with them, but he's not brave enough to dare. maybe he doesn't give them enough credit. in the end, madrid is far enough away from his family that he feels less suffocated by the fear of what they'd think of him, if they knew that men and women both alike could set his pulse fluttering, if they looked at him right, brushed his shoulder just so.
the way jens does.
sasha falls into like very easily. he attaches very firmly to others whilst trying his hardest not to let it show too much. the thought of becoming bothersome or irritating frightens him awfully, but is constantly in battle with his natural inclination to express every emotion that flickers into his mind. years of practice have made him something of an expert at managing it, but not at changing the fact that it happens. that he's only met jens twice, and yet he'd be perfectly happy to let this man step into his personal space and kiss him senseless. or to be the one doing that, in fact. for all that he worries about how he comes across to others, sasha isn't terribly oblivious; quite the opposite. the fact that whatever is felt here is reciprocated doesn't require a rocket scientist to figure it out. ]
And I'll have to start paying more attention.
[ somewhat abruptly, sasha bursts into laughter. as much as he tries to dilute certain outward emotions, it's sometimes unexpected when his restraints start falling away, or when he can't catch himself in time. it's a bright, young sound, slightly muffled by the way sasha slaps his hand over his mouth, ducking his head with faint embarrassment, though he doesn't apologise for it. ]
That — I don't know what I was expecting you to say, but it wasn't that. [ the sentence peters out into more soft, huffing laughs as he shakes his head, pulling in his lips slightly as he stares at jens with incredulous brightness. ] That was terrible.