[Hasebe knows two things: protecting, and defending. He's acquainted passively with waiting, with time moving inexorably forward in nothingness and passive participation. For once in his existence, he's doing something wholly selfishly. Beyond simply the experience of holding a sword, he can't imagine the younger man getting anything in particular out of this. Hasebe sees himself as the one taking, not giving. What does this do but complicate an explanation that barely makes sense to him, anyway?
Longing to be understood by Guanshan is the crux of this, wanting to be felt as a man and a tool, as something special and unique, yet as what he is, and not what the man thinks Hasebe should be. If he changes, if his perspective shifts, then so be it. But he wants to be met on this ground, so he's put the offer out and it has been at least partially accepted.
The truth is that Hasebe is the man, now, and that going back to merely being the sword loses all appeal when he is appreciated, when he notes in sharp, vibrant ways that he can have the best of all worlds right now. He did not choose his fate, but now he can at least select his moments of joy. That's worth so much more than he wants to admit, and while he'll obediently and dutifully give it up as required to serve, he won't stop chasing it now that he's felt these things... And more. Is he admired? Is he a novelty? What is it that allows him this freedom?
Time slows. Nothing matters when those lips brush Heshikiri, when the natural progression lends itself to human error and folly, and he feels the ghost of a presence of lips on his neck. Hasebe gasps, and hides his face against a slender shoulder. But he has to stay stoic, and calm. When warmth touches the groove it makes his mind snap, and he feels like his entire being has been invaded by that action. Heat radiates from his core, and he fights ths strong urge of arousal. He fails, groaning softly, almost apologetic.]
I can feel that, as well.
[He traces a line down his companion's sternum.] Here. My heart's beating harder now.
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Longing to be understood by Guanshan is the crux of this, wanting to be felt as a man and a tool, as something special and unique, yet as what he is, and not what the man thinks Hasebe should be. If he changes, if his perspective shifts, then so be it. But he wants to be met on this ground, so he's put the offer out and it has been at least partially accepted.
The truth is that Hasebe is the man, now, and that going back to merely being the sword loses all appeal when he is appreciated, when he notes in sharp, vibrant ways that he can have the best of all worlds right now. He did not choose his fate, but now he can at least select his moments of joy. That's worth so much more than he wants to admit, and while he'll obediently and dutifully give it up as required to serve, he won't stop chasing it now that he's felt these things... And more. Is he admired? Is he a novelty? What is it that allows him this freedom?
Time slows. Nothing matters when those lips brush Heshikiri, when the natural progression lends itself to human error and folly, and he feels the ghost of a presence of lips on his neck. Hasebe gasps, and hides his face against a slender shoulder. But he has to stay stoic, and calm. When warmth touches the groove it makes his mind snap, and he feels like his entire being has been invaded by that action. Heat radiates from his core, and he fights ths strong urge of arousal. He fails, groaning softly, almost apologetic.]
I can feel that, as well.
[He traces a line down his companion's sternum.] Here. My heart's beating harder now.