[it could be argued that the research, the talking before and during and after makes it less sexy -- makes it too clinical, strips things down to bare bones, no heat, no excitement, no risk. there's something to be said for slapdash, wild-night hook-ups, corry can't deny that.
but he woke the next morning and couldn't hop on a plane, distance himself, hide any spark of genuine in plausible deniability. he had to choose who he was here, in saltburnt, rakish heartbreaker or seasoned professional (the other aspects not an option, not here, not with the repeat visitors to his room, his bed, his arms, not with bob). and there's a house filled with muggy heat in his head, slamming doors and stomping feet, and the idea of being lumped in that category somewhere in bob's mind, even for an instant, makes corry sort of want to die.
so: talking.]
I know you know, baby. But I'm gonna tell you again, show you over and over. Your job's to be honest with me, yeah? Tell me if it stops being good-scary. Tell me to stop, if you need to stop. Can you do that for me?
[ i’m gonna tell you. i’m gonna show you. just as dangerous as any trip back to that hothouse. too kind, too good not to catch on the groove in his skull. ]
i can
[ probably. it helps that corry asks for it preemptively, so if he had to pick between going along with something or being a problem, he has more reason to choose the latter option. ]
Don't tell me not to do something, cause I'm the kinda guy who's gonna wanna do it even MORE. C'mon, that's literally the most obvious thing about me. 100%'s been pretty goddamn great. Zero complaints. So there.
[traumadumping as foreplay -- shockingly effective.]
Maybe I like saying nice stuff to you. Like it better in person, like that grin you get when I say it, like I tricked you into being happy before you remember to doubt it. I can imagine it pretty damn well, though. Imagine a lotta stuff about you.
[ it’s — surprisingly tender, if not surprising in general. bob isn’t exactly hard to read. it’s just more evidence corry pay closer attention than he thought. ]
maybe i should send you something say thank you for having me then you don’t need to imagine it
[keen observation skills for normal guy reasons over here, absolutely (deflect, attest that it's something that doesn't turn off, for anyone, just a reflex, natural. a lie).]
Hmmmm, maybe you SHOULD. Cause I got you, but, y'know. Not actually, right now. All alone. :(
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no subject
but he woke the next morning and couldn't hop on a plane, distance himself, hide any spark of genuine in plausible deniability. he had to choose who he was here, in saltburnt, rakish heartbreaker or seasoned professional (the other aspects not an option, not here, not with the repeat visitors to his room, his bed, his arms, not with bob). and there's a house filled with muggy heat in his head, slamming doors and stomping feet, and the idea of being lumped in that category somewhere in bob's mind, even for an instant, makes corry sort of want to die.
so: talking.]
I know you know, baby.
But I'm gonna tell you again, show you over and over.
Your job's to be honest with me, yeah? Tell me if it stops being good-scary. Tell me to stop, if you need to stop.
Can you do that for me?
no subject
i can
[ probably. it helps that corry asks for it preemptively, so if he had to pick between going along with something or being a problem, he has more reason to choose the latter option. ]
i will
plus i could benchpress you, remember?
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[fond, bemused:] You think I've stopped thinking about you benchpressing me for more than ten seconds since I found out you could?
Nah. Solid 12% of brain processing power devoted to benchpressing fantasy at all times.
15% if I'm real horny about it.
no subject
that’s just the benchpressing huh
so i get another 5-10% for all the other stuff you’re thinking about?
lucky me
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we’re looking at 60-115% on bob reynolds, seriously?
you might wanna get that checked
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So I can't contain more than 100%? I'm magnificent, I could do 300% Bob Reynolds if I wanted.
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that’s a fatal dosage
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100%'s been pretty goddamn great. Zero complaints. So there.
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now you’re just saying stuff to get in my pants
which you do not have to do
you already got me
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Maybe I like saying nice stuff to you.
Like it better in person, like that grin you get when I say it, like I tricked you into being happy before you remember to doubt it.
I can imagine it pretty damn well, though. Imagine a lotta stuff about you.
Yeah?
[hah. hm.]
Yeah, I got you, baby.
no subject
maybe i should send you something
say thank you for having me
then you don’t need to imagine it
no subject
Hmmmm, maybe you SHOULD.
Cause I got you, but, y'know.
Not actually, right now.
All alone.
:(