["Sam looking out for Nate" is a Hell of a lot different from this, because this is "Sam trying to get his little brother laid," which wouldn't be problematic if Nate had any remote experience in the act. (He's not an idiot, he knows how babies are made even if the orphanage was lacking in its sex education for middle-schoolers, but everything tends to sound all right in theory.)]
I haven't...at all,
[Nate grits, feeling his cheeks grow hot in the fading light. He'd chalk it up to sunburn if the sensation didn't come on so quickly.
There's a defiance there that is preparing itself to lash out at any potential ridicule.]
[Harry's surprised to find himself a hair disappointed, but the way he's been feeling since Nate peeled his shirt off it really shouldn't be. More than anything it's a relief. For a moment there it looked like he was going to be the recipient of a nervous gay teenager's first coming out and Christ he was not prepared for that.
He notices that Nate doesn't chafe under the suggestion that there might've been boys, though. Interesting.]
Well. [Harry settles back into his chair, staring out at nothing in particular. Definitely not at Nate.] What are you looking for? Would you like him to stop? Because I can talk to him later and tell him to crawl back out of your arse about it. Or...
[He trails off then, chancing a look at Nate. He looks so earnest, so genuinely distressed in that way only teenagers (!) can be. Poor lad, nervous about having no skills and being a virgin (!!!), like he's some kind of freakish anomaly and not every other 17 year old ever.]
[In fairness, Nate isn't sure what he likes. Girls are pretty, definitely. Guys, yeah, they can be handsome. But he's also at a stage where he's not certain whether his appreciations for both sides are objective, but neither does it really matter. People like who they like, right?]
Tips?
[he sounds dubious, but the question lingering at the edge of his tone isn't meant to offend. Nate scrubs anxiously at the back of his neck for a moment, staring into the fire.]
Y'know, tips. Like...how to charm the knickers off a bird [He pauses, then backtracks.] O-or a bloke, I suppose, I don't really know much about that, but...
[Harry stumbles to a stop awkwardly, more lost as to how to approach this more han anything else. Maybe if Nathan here wasn't being so bleeding distracting he would have the regular, unearned confidence he usually exudes about these kinds of matters. Add to it that he's still not sure if he's actually looking for girls, and here we've got a minor internal crisis.
[This feels awkward. Nate is already getting an overwhelming sense of secondhand embarrassment just from Harry being put on the spot, and he's not even the one with the birds-and-blokes issue.]
Yes!
[Nate snaps defensively, folding his arms over his chest and protecting what little he has to protect. He's kissed, sure, sweet and quick things, a couple deliciously messy ones here and there that he sort of had to adjust to, but it's never been a major issue. Nate likes kissing, has made it one of the things he does well when the occasion arises, and he's never received any complaints.]
Yes, obviously, I've- I've made out with people before. Geez.
Hey, hey, don't get defensive. [Harry holds up a hand, as if to smooth out Nate's defensiveness manually. Which, you know, wouldn't be the total worst right now.] The way you were talking made it sound like you'd never touched a tit before, I just needed to know.
[Oh god. This is hell. Is this hell? Mum was right all along, it does exist. After a long moment of contemplation and internal distress, Harry hauls himself from his spot and reaches into the cooler for the mystery liquor bottle. No clue what it is, all Sam had said was there was an old man who he played cards with and who gave it to him. No telling what the fuck it was fermented from—and honestly? He doesn't quite care at the moment.]
D'you know if you're any good? Girls, they melt for that kind of thing, it's easy to tell if you're shit at it.
[He's touched a couple of boobs in his day, which isn't saying much at all - and shouldn't be anything to be proud of - but that's the approximate extent of his anatomical know-how regarding the fairer sex. Nate is hopelessly new at this, and doesn't think he can fend off Sam's pushing forever, but since he has so little experience he has made a point of excelling in at least one thing.]
Uh, I'm pretty damn good at it.
[Comes the confident reply, and for the first time in this conversation Nate seems to exude an earned honesty. While he may not necessarily have gotten his hands any further than second base, he has it on good authority that he is, in fact, an excellent kisser.]
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uncalendula) wrote2016-11-06 12:11 am
no subject
I haven't...at all,
[Nate grits, feeling his cheeks grow hot in the fading light. He'd chalk it up to sunburn if the sensation didn't come on so quickly.
There's a defiance there that is preparing itself to lash out at any potential ridicule.]
...Not yet, anyway.
no subject
[Harry's surprised to find himself a hair disappointed, but the way he's been feeling since Nate peeled his shirt off it really shouldn't be. More than anything it's a relief. For a moment there it looked like he was going to be the recipient of a nervous gay teenager's first coming out and Christ he was not prepared for that.
He notices that Nate doesn't chafe under the suggestion that there might've been boys, though. Interesting.]
Well. [Harry settles back into his chair, staring out at nothing in particular. Definitely not at Nate.] What are you looking for? Would you like him to stop? Because I can talk to him later and tell him to crawl back out of your arse about it. Or...
[He trails off then, chancing a look at Nate. He looks so earnest, so genuinely distressed in that way only teenagers (!) can be. Poor lad, nervous about having no skills and being a virgin (!!!), like he's some kind of freakish anomaly and not every other 17 year old ever.]
...I can give you tips?
no subject
Tips?
[he sounds dubious, but the question lingering at the edge of his tone isn't meant to offend. Nate scrubs anxiously at the back of his neck for a moment, staring into the fire.]
...I mean- yeah, tips would- what kind of tips?
no subject
[Harry stumbles to a stop awkwardly, more lost as to how to approach this more han anything else. Maybe if Nathan here wasn't being so bleeding distracting he would have the regular, unearned confidence he usually exudes about these kinds of matters. Add to it that he's still not sure if he's actually looking for girls, and here we've got a minor internal crisis.
Christ. He needs whisky.]
Have you even kissed anyone yet?
no subject
Yes!
[Nate snaps defensively, folding his arms over his chest and protecting what little he has to protect. He's kissed, sure, sweet and quick things, a couple deliciously messy ones here and there that he sort of had to adjust to, but it's never been a major issue. Nate likes kissing, has made it one of the things he does well when the occasion arises, and he's never received any complaints.]
Yes, obviously, I've- I've made out with people before. Geez.
no subject
[Oh god. This is hell. Is this hell? Mum was right all along, it does exist. After a long moment of contemplation and internal distress, Harry hauls himself from his spot and reaches into the cooler for the mystery liquor bottle. No clue what it is, all Sam had said was there was an old man who he played cards with and who gave it to him. No telling what the fuck it was fermented from—and honestly? He doesn't quite care at the moment.]
D'you know if you're any good? Girls, they melt for that kind of thing, it's easy to tell if you're shit at it.
no subject
Uh, I'm pretty damn good at it.
[Comes the confident reply, and for the first time in this conversation Nate seems to exude an earned honesty. While he may not necessarily have gotten his hands any further than second base, he has it on good authority that he is, in fact, an excellent kisser.]
No complaints yet.