[ He falters, lip bit. How does he explain? For all that he's been getting better -- about control, about sharing, about softness -- there are still tremendously sharp-edged insecurities that like to rear up now and again. Being something other than himself is one of them. The pressure to perform, on top of that, with someone he's not physically drawn to? That's another. It all comes back to him, the tepid haze of interludes, the feigned passions and cold-eyed deceptions against alleyways and grimy bathrooms and shoddy, funny-smelling motels. Trying to muster a lick of enthusiasm for the unwanted procession of half-naked flesh, like a carnival freak composed not of two conjoined bodies, but hundreds. ]
[ Hei swallows. Waits five, six minutes, before settling on the edge of the bed, fighting his usual instinct to exit. He reaches after a beat, then places his hand on her wrist. It is big, with fine dark hairs, and blueish veins passing over onto the backs of her hand. But still warm. Still deliciously toffee-colored. Still Korra. ]
[ Tentatively, ]
Not everyone likes... men and women the same. They're not wired that way.
no subject
[ He falters, lip bit. How does he explain? For all that he's been getting better -- about control, about sharing, about softness -- there are still tremendously sharp-edged insecurities that like to rear up now and again. Being something other than himself is one of them. The pressure to perform, on top of that, with someone he's not physically drawn to? That's another. It all comes back to him, the tepid haze of interludes, the feigned passions and cold-eyed deceptions against alleyways and grimy bathrooms and shoddy, funny-smelling motels. Trying to muster a lick of enthusiasm for the unwanted procession of half-naked flesh, like a carnival freak composed not of two conjoined bodies, but hundreds. ]
[ Hei swallows. Waits five, six minutes, before settling on the edge of the bed, fighting his usual instinct to exit. He reaches after a beat, then places his hand on her wrist. It is big, with fine dark hairs, and blueish veins passing over onto the backs of her hand. But still warm. Still deliciously toffee-colored. Still Korra. ]
[ Tentatively, ]
Not everyone likes... men and women the same. They're not wired that way.