[By the time Harry arrives, Fives is off on his shift, most of the sex paraphernalia has been hastily washed and tucked back into their crates, and the tea is brewing.]
Maybe put a pin in that "most". In any case, when Harry arrives, he
seems—anxious. In a bright enough mood to be sure, but there's clearly
something weighing on his mind, and it's equally clear that he has no idea
how to go about discussing it. His small talk on arriving is unusually
desultory and insubstantial, and at one point he might actually be seen to
be fidgeting slightly.
"I don't know where to begin," he says, looking up at the ceiling. He
reddens. "You know I am a novice in matters of the heart and—and other
such," he says. "I suppose—well—I am slightly less of one than I was a
month ago."
The absurdity of his circumlocution is nearly as excruciating to him as the
attempt to directly addressing the thing he's talking around.
"Well, I can keep playing twenty-one questions with you, but I promise the possibilities I come up with are going to be more mortifying than what you actually want to know," Jedao points out amiably.
"Is it easier if you ask the fish? And I'm just sort of here?"
Harry snorts, a short, self-deprecating laugh, and looks up.
"I had better try, at least. You will forgive me if I spend a great deal of
time looking at the floor."
Deep breath. "All I know of—of congress is the most
ordinary—conventional—choose your word." He shrugs helplessly. "I thought
it was all I would ever need to know. Of course I know now that it is more
than just business conducted in the dark for the purpose of propagating the
human race, but knowing that, I—I find myself thinking, sometimes, of ...
other possibilities."
"But how does one even begin to talk about it? With the other—with one's
lover?" he says. "What if the notions that one is entertaining—what if one
fears that they are somehow offensive or—or deviant...?"
"Well, that's something you should work out with yourself a little bit before you bring it up. Shame and fear aren't generally sexy - not until you get into some pretty complicated psychological play, anyway, and they don't strike me as Tris's particular kinks. You want to be able to bring it to her as - just as you said, a possibility. A fun adventure you guys can try together! Not a demand, or an ordeal, but a perk - proof that you want to try new things with her, or what have you. But that's harder to pull off if you're so uncertain. So here you are, and we'll workshop it a little."
Just your friendly neighborhood sex advice service.
"We can probably start from the premise that her world is less concerned with sexual propriety than yours, but perhaps a bit more than mine. So whatever you're thinking, I think the odds are at least somewhat in your favor. Do you think she should be offended, by what you want?"
One day, Harry thinks, as he also imagines himself turning into smoke, he
will become accustomed to such blasé talk of these matters. Today is not
that day.
"I ... hope not?" he says. "That is to say—in a way, it relates to her
magic, and I should hate for her to think that I have an—an improper
interest in it."
A self-aware twenty-first century man would probably be talking in terms of
fetishizing, but that's not in Harry's vocabulary.
"Do you want her to hurt you with it?" Jedao asks. "Because that's perfectly common, in some variation, but I think might have poor associations for her personally. Otherwise..."
Jedao, for his part, has very little of the twenty-first century vocabulary either, but is at least comfortable talking about quite a range desires.
"I think it would only be improper if it eclipses your interest and regard for the rest of her."
Harry almost chokes at the question. "No! God, no." He shakes his head.
"And—no—I—my regard for her always comes first; she was my friend first and
I value her as a woman more than anything she can—can do."
He runs a hand through his hair. "No, I—I merely—that is—I have lately been
thinking—" He swallows. "In a thunderstorm, such as only she can conjure."
Translation: Harry has discovered that he has an outdoor kink and is afraid
he's lost his mind.
Jedao grins at him, barely managing not to beam. It's real cute.
He reaches over, and squeezes Harry's knee, warm and brief.
"I think she might be very pleased, to be wanted for all of herself, even - or especially - those parts of her that others have rejected or been afraid of or wished only to use."
Harry exhales. "I see your point. That—well. That puts my mind more at ease, in any event." He'll have to work out what exactly to say on his own, but at least he's beginning to feel rather less like an aberration than he did when his mind first started wandering those particular paths.
He smiles ruefully. "I am grateful for your patience." And lack of condescension. "These are not questions that would ever be openly discussed, where I come from."
"I think it's sweet," he says, which might sound condescending if he weren't so very honest.
"It's funny. When I was in academy, we had a whole series of classes on seduction. But before that on the farm, there weren't many sources of information - I distinctly remember sneaking into my brother's room to look at his porn. I'd never have asked anyone anything."
The thought of classes in such things makes Harry's head spin a little.
"One has to learn about the essentials of it all from a purely clinical
perspective, as part of a medical education," he says. "But even there—many
texts render the most indelicate parts in Latin, to guard against
accidental glimpses by innocent eyes."
Jedao shakes his head, almost as gently baffled as Harry is.
"As if it weren't innocent? I mean - it can be cruelly done, or to manipulate. But it is such a simple way for people to - take joy in each other, and give it. Even when - when most forms of human connection are impossible."
He sounds just slightly plaintive, wistful with old pain and tenderness braided together. When he was the Archtraitor in waiting, lying to all of his very closest friends, his body could be honest with strangers, could do something good, could harm no one who didn't love it.
"It becomes less simple when surrounded by cultural taboos—constraints—born
of religion and custom," Harry says. "The Bible—our chief religious
text—teaches us that the first man and woman were cast out of Paradise when
they ate of the fruit of knowledge, at which point they became aware and
ashamed of their nakedness. From there, by extension, the whole body is
seen as sinful, the organs of generation in particular—which, incidentally,
are to be used only for that purpose." Harry's tone is sardonic; there is
none of this that he particularly believes anymore. "Of course, as you may
imagine, there are always those—even men of the cloth—who preach that from
the pulpit while doing as they will behind closed doors, so you may take
that as you will." He sighs. "I suppose I believed all that once, in an
unthinking, unconscious way—but now I do believe that as long as what is
done is in kindness, for mutual happiness, I cannot see how it is a sin.
There are so many other sins that are far, far worse."
Jedao nods along a little at the idea of orthodoxy; he understands that can cover all manner of atrocities. He does snort a little, though, at only for that purpose.
"I was considered a bit of a border hick for being fleshborn. A little exotic, a little gross. Visceral, literally. What kind of barbarians would want a woman to carry a baby in her actual body, like a farm animal, instead of using a proper creche?"
Harry remembers Jedao telling him about being fleshborn in—oh, their second
substantial conversation, was it? It seems very long ago now. That
perspective is still strange to him.
"If I had the time," he muses, "I might like to catalogue all of the
proscriptions and taboos and such across all the worlds and times
represented here. It is a fascinating subject, to see what lies in common,
what differs..."
As he's considering this, his gaze has gone somewhere off in middle
distance, looking at and only mostly seeing the surrounding room. He hasn't
considered that his field of vision might settle on anything he hasn't seen
before.
"We did have a few - although mostly not universal, only in certain...subcultures? Kel don't go with Kel, soldiers with soldiers, that was...I mean, it makes sense, fraternization is, obviously fraught. Or it seems that way to me. Fives had to work for a while to break me of the idea," Jedao muses. He still sometimes gets a shiver of shame or nervousness, after too many years whispering hawkfucker at himself; but - he's too happy, and Fives obviously too happy as well, for Jedao to genuinely doubt or regret.
Among the clutter is something Harry certainly has seen before - or at least it bears a passing resemblance to a ship's cat-o'-nine-tails, if perhaps a bit smaller and sleeker. Jedao has the courtesy-or-foresight to put the actual dildos away after cleaning; the many-tailed leather flogger tossed on top of a closed crate seemed lower priority.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Re: text
[By the time Harry arrives, Fives is off on his shift, most of the sex paraphernalia has been hastily washed and tucked back into their crates, and the tea is brewing.]
Re: text
Maybe put a pin in that "most".In any case, when Harry arrives, he seems—anxious. In a bright enough mood to be sure, but there's clearly something weighing on his mind, and it's equally clear that he has no idea how to go about discussing it. His small talk on arriving is unusually desultory and insubstantial, and at one point he might actually be seen to be fidgeting slightly.Re: text
no subject
It takes a while for Harry to notice, but he finally does and almost responds with irritation—but then stops himself.
"I am being terribly obvious."
no subject
Whatever it is, Jedao is almost certainly the last person to judge him.
no subject
Harry huffs out a small sigh.
"I don't know where to begin," he says, looking up at the ceiling. He reddens. "You know I am a novice in matters of the heart and—and other such," he says. "I suppose—well—I am slightly less of one than I was a month ago."
The absurdity of his circumlocution is nearly as excruciating to him as the attempt to directly addressing the thing he's talking around.
no subject
"Is the question actually about fucking or just sort of relationship adjacent?" Jedao asks, since he already overshot that one with Steve.
no subject
Harry slowly buries his face in his hands until only the scarlet edges of his ears are visible.
"The former," he says, muffled. "Which you can plainly see I have no idea of how to talk about."
no subject
"Is it easier if you ask the fish? And I'm just sort of here?"
no subject
Harry snorts, a short, self-deprecating laugh, and looks up.
"I had better try, at least. You will forgive me if I spend a great deal of time looking at the floor."
Deep breath. "All I know of—of congress is the most ordinary—conventional—choose your word." He shrugs helplessly. "I thought it was all I would ever need to know. Of course I know now that it is more than just business conducted in the dark for the purpose of propagating the human race, but knowing that, I—I find myself thinking, sometimes, of ... other possibilities."
no subject
no subject
Another helpless look.
"But how does one even begin to talk about it? With the other—with one's lover?" he says. "What if the notions that one is entertaining—what if one fears that they are somehow offensive or—or deviant...?"
no subject
Just your friendly neighborhood sex advice service.
"We can probably start from the premise that her world is less concerned with sexual propriety than yours, but perhaps a bit more than mine. So whatever you're thinking, I think the odds are at least somewhat in your favor. Do you think she should be offended, by what you want?"
no subject
One day, Harry thinks, as he also imagines himself turning into smoke, he will become accustomed to such blasé talk of these matters. Today is not that day.
"I ... hope not?" he says. "That is to say—in a way, it relates to her magic, and I should hate for her to think that I have an—an improper interest in it."
A self-aware twenty-first century man would probably be talking in terms of fetishizing, but that's not in Harry's vocabulary.
no subject
Jedao, for his part, has very little of the twenty-first century vocabulary either, but is at least comfortable talking about quite a range desires.
"I think it would only be improper if it eclipses your interest and regard for the rest of her."
no subject
Harry almost chokes at the question. "No! God, no." He shakes his head. "And—no—I—my regard for her always comes first; she was my friend first and I value her as a woman more than anything she can—can do."
He runs a hand through his hair. "No, I—I merely—that is—I have lately been thinking—" He swallows. "In a thunderstorm, such as only she can conjure."
Translation: Harry has discovered that he has an outdoor kink and is afraid he's lost his mind.
no subject
He reaches over, and squeezes Harry's knee, warm and brief.
"I think she might be very pleased, to be wanted for all of herself, even - or especially - those parts of her that others have rejected or been afraid of or wished only to use."
no subject
He smiles ruefully. "I am grateful for your patience." And lack of condescension. "These are not questions that would ever be openly discussed, where I come from."
no subject
"It's funny. When I was in academy, we had a whole series of classes on seduction. But before that on the farm, there weren't many sources of information - I distinctly remember sneaking into my brother's room to look at his porn. I'd never have asked anyone anything."
Which is to say, he does understand, very dimly.
no subject
The thought of classes in such things makes Harry's head spin a little.
"One has to learn about the essentials of it all from a purely clinical perspective, as part of a medical education," he says. "But even there—many texts render the most indelicate parts in Latin, to guard against accidental glimpses by innocent eyes."
no subject
"As if it weren't innocent? I mean - it can be cruelly done, or to manipulate. But it is such a simple way for people to - take joy in each other, and give it. Even when - when most forms of human connection are impossible."
He sounds just slightly plaintive, wistful with old pain and tenderness braided together. When he was the Archtraitor in waiting, lying to all of his very closest friends, his body could be honest with strangers, could do something good, could harm no one who didn't love it.
no subject
"It becomes less simple when surrounded by cultural taboos—constraints—born of religion and custom," Harry says. "The Bible—our chief religious text—teaches us that the first man and woman were cast out of Paradise when they ate of the fruit of knowledge, at which point they became aware and ashamed of their nakedness. From there, by extension, the whole body is seen as sinful, the organs of generation in particular—which, incidentally, are to be used only for that purpose." Harry's tone is sardonic; there is none of this that he particularly believes anymore. "Of course, as you may imagine, there are always those—even men of the cloth—who preach that from the pulpit while doing as they will behind closed doors, so you may take that as you will." He sighs. "I suppose I believed all that once, in an unthinking, unconscious way—but now I do believe that as long as what is done is in kindness, for mutual happiness, I cannot see how it is a sin. There are so many other sins that are far, far worse."
no subject
"I was considered a bit of a border hick for being fleshborn. A little exotic, a little gross. Visceral, literally. What kind of barbarians would want a woman to carry a baby in her actual body, like a farm animal, instead of using a proper creche?"
He shakes his head, wryly.
"I think you have the right idea of it."
no subject
Harry remembers Jedao telling him about being fleshborn in—oh, their second substantial conversation, was it? It seems very long ago now. That perspective is still strange to him.
"If I had the time," he muses, "I might like to catalogue all of the proscriptions and taboos and such across all the worlds and times represented here. It is a fascinating subject, to see what lies in common, what differs..."
As he's considering this, his gaze has gone somewhere off in middle distance, looking at and only mostly seeing the surrounding room. He hasn't considered that his field of vision might settle on anything he hasn't seen before.
no subject
Among the clutter is something Harry certainly has seen before - or at least it bears a passing resemblance to a ship's cat-o'-nine-tails, if perhaps a bit smaller and sleeker. Jedao has the courtesy-or-foresight to put the actual dildos away after cleaning; the many-tailed leather flogger tossed on top of a closed crate seemed lower priority.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
tw: discussion of rape
Re: tw: discussion of rape
Re: tw: discussion of rape
Re: tw: discussion of rape
Re: tw: discussion of rape