[ If his heart weren't cold and dead, it would flutter. For such an innocent kiss, he feels inordinately atwitter. Because it's such an innocent kiss. The prospect of pressing his mouth to someone else's not to lick obscenely into it but to show simple affection is a thunderstrike. He turns over the word 'love' in his head again before shoving it into a box to think about later.

As for his depravity, he huffs, although he really can't dispute it. No, he hasn't been particularly deviant. How warm he feels from chaste physical affection is proof of that. ]

I spent so long doing sordid and degrading things for someone else's benefit. I'm still getting used to the idea of having my own preferences. Liking things instead of gritting my teeth and bearing them.

[ Feeling safe, having his own wants and needs cared about, being desired as more than just a tool to be used. It's all very new. ]

But who knows what perversion the future might bring? I certainly don't mind exploring, if it's with you.