[ The question comes and goes unanswered. Dan Heng simply nods, as if to confirm what he's already said—he can't, without specifying what action it is he cannot allow himself to take. In his mind, it's already so obvious that it doesn't need restating—but he knows that that's his mind, thoughts that have lusted after the man crouched next to him for longer than he's dared even talk to him, feelings that have only gotten worse in the time that acquaintanceship has become friendship.
And Yingxing is nice enough that if Dan Heng asked—
But it wouldn't be real, and so he can't. Not to mention the fact that his body isn't what the other would expect it to be, and...
Right. He can't.
That's the decision he's made, and he's sticking to it no matter how rich the intermingling of spice and musk is as it tickles his nose.
He nods, the movement stiff. Maybe, if the other closes the door on his way out, he can get himself some relief, just some
(and he shouldn't, this isn't his house, isn't his tub, but reason is starting to fail quickly as sympathetic, gentle eyes meet his, and Dan Heng wonders what they'd look like burning with the same heat that aches between his legs—)
no subject
And Yingxing is nice enough that if Dan Heng asked—
But it wouldn't be real, and so he can't. Not to mention the fact that his body isn't what the other would expect it to be, and...
Right. He can't.
That's the decision he's made, and he's sticking to it no matter how rich the intermingling of spice and musk is as it tickles his nose.
He nods, the movement stiff. Maybe, if the other closes the door on his way out, he can get himself some relief, just some
(and he shouldn't, this isn't his house, isn't his tub, but reason is starting to fail quickly as sympathetic, gentle eyes meet his, and Dan Heng wonders what they'd look like burning with the same heat that aches between his legs—)
He all but chokes on his answer as he nods. ]
I. Right. Yes, thank you.