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If you're so attracted to him then why don't you just touch yourself in the meantime?
That's what Maclir said the last time they had a conversation. Tuatha had been thoroughly taken aback by the suggestion, especially coming from him of all people, but when she went to Ridwen for a second opinion, her moirail agreed that it would be a good substitute for actual sex. Not that Tuatha had ever specifically mentioned wanting to have sex with her matesprit, but everyone could tell what she meant anyway.
Ever since it's been suggested to her, she's mulled over the possibility more and more, especially every time she catches a glimpse of Dagdan. His charming boyish features, his long silky hair, his expert hands, his smile - god, his smile. It's enough to make Tuatha want to melt in her seat. She has to wonder what kind of good deed she did to merit having such a wonderful matesprit.
The only problem is how obnoxiously dense he is.
And Tuatha, on principle, is all about subtlety and propriety. When he hugs and kisses her in public, part of her wants to run away in embarrassment. She can't deny she likes the attention, but only from him, not all the other pairs of eyes watching them. Even then, the idea of his eyes on her makes her face flush in embarrassment.
So the thought of taking their relationship one step further is... is just...
Wishful thinking, she tells herself. Dagdan can't take a hint to save his life, and how is she supposed to bring it up besides going up to him and outright asking him for sex, which isn't her style at all?
She can feel all different kinds of frustrations welling up within her, and she finally retreats to a secluded room on the meteor. The idea of giving in and touching herself is at the forefront of her mind so she kicks off her shoes and pulls off her pants and sits down on one of the comfy furniture rectangles - a bed, she thinks it's called. They've all been sleeping on them since their game was suspended, with dreambubbles protecting them from the nightmares that made recouperacoons and sopor slime a necessity.
And so she sits there, staring down at her plain underwear. This is when she realizes she's never actually done this before. Where does she even begin? Damn, she should have asked Ridwen for information, she knows she's never short on it. Tuatha ponders over putting her pants back on and tracking her moirail down, but she feels a dull ache in her belly that kills any motivation to stand back up.
Might as well wing it. If it doesn't work, well, it doesn't work. And so she slowly slips a hand under her panties and seeks out her slit with uncertain fingers, which draws a sharp gasp out of her. That's a good sign, right? Regardless, it surprises her enough to almost make her retract her hand, but she decides she should press on.
What do people usually do when they touch themselves? Think about someone they like, right? Well... in that case, she'll just have to think about Dagdan and pretend those are his fingers in her underwear, right? Right. Slowly, she brings her fingertips to her slit again and parts the folds. She closes her eyes and lets her imagination take control...
"Tuatha?"
She nearly jumps out of her skin, but she knows she can't afford to move from her seat, what with her back facing the door. It's him. "W-what?" she stammers.
"Are you okay? I heard you moaning and say my name. Did you need help?" There's a slight pause, and she hears him step forward. "Does your stomach hurt?"
What? Where did he get that idea? Moreover, he's coming over here! "N-no, I'm fine, but--"
"Why are your pants off?" he asks in a puzzled tone. He's still not stopping.
"Don't come over here-!" she manages, but too late. Dagdan's made his way to her and around the bed and now his gaze rests upon her hand in her underwear. She gawks at his face as realization slowly dawns upon him, his cheeks taking on a jade hue.
"Oh," he simply says. Awkward moment of silence, and then he sits down on the bed next to her. Why isn't he leaving?! "Enjoying yourself, huh?" Tuatha doesn't know what to say to that. Dagdan pauses, licking his lips. "When you said my name... were you thinking about me?"
Her jaw drops. He did say he heard his name. She had literally just started. How much time passed since she let her imagination take over? Why didn't she notice the words coming out of her own mouth? Unable to say anything, she just meekly nods.
He chuckles. "Well, I'm flattered," he says and turns to look at her. "I'm kind of glad you were doing that while thinking of me, I mean... I've been doing the same while thinking about you," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.
"R-really?" Tuatha finally manages. She feels her whole body heat up, and it doesn't even occur to her that maybe she should take her hand out of her underwear during a conversation.
"Really, because..." he trails off and looks down at the floor, his blush deepening. "Well, I like you a lot, you're really cute, and I'd like to get closer to you, you know?"
Oh. So basically, the same thing she's been feeling. "Closer... how?" She gulps, thinking she might already know the answer.
"Like... physically," he finally says after a prolonged pause. "But I didn't know how to bring it up to you."
"... Actually," Tuatha mumbles, and clears her throat, "I was wondering the same thing..."
"Really?" he looks up and smiles somewhat sheepishly. Slowly, he puts his hand on top of her free one. "Then... do you wanna do it sometime? Maybe not now, but..."
It's weird. Her throat feels parched, but her eyes are prickly with tears, and she's not even sure why. She just bites her lip and nods slightly, fighting the smile that's threatening to creep up to her lips.
He smiles and scoots closer to her, picking up her hand and lacing their fingers together. He brings her hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to her knuckle, finally drawing a smile out of her. "But first..." he looks down at her underwear, and her hand still tucked inside it, "will you let me take care of that?"
"Oh, um..."
That's what Maclir said the last time they had a conversation. Tuatha had been thoroughly taken aback by the suggestion, especially coming from him of all people, but when she went to Ridwen for a second opinion, her moirail agreed that it would be a good substitute for actual sex. Not that Tuatha had ever specifically mentioned wanting to have sex with her matesprit, but everyone could tell what she meant anyway.
Ever since it's been suggested to her, she's mulled over the possibility more and more, especially every time she catches a glimpse of Dagdan. His charming boyish features, his long silky hair, his expert hands, his smile - god, his smile. It's enough to make Tuatha want to melt in her seat. She has to wonder what kind of good deed she did to merit having such a wonderful matesprit.
The only problem is how obnoxiously dense he is.
And Tuatha, on principle, is all about subtlety and propriety. When he hugs and kisses her in public, part of her wants to run away in embarrassment. She can't deny she likes the attention, but only from him, not all the other pairs of eyes watching them. Even then, the idea of his eyes on her makes her face flush in embarrassment.
So the thought of taking their relationship one step further is... is just...
Wishful thinking, she tells herself. Dagdan can't take a hint to save his life, and how is she supposed to bring it up besides going up to him and outright asking him for sex, which isn't her style at all?
She can feel all different kinds of frustrations welling up within her, and she finally retreats to a secluded room on the meteor. The idea of giving in and touching herself is at the forefront of her mind so she kicks off her shoes and pulls off her pants and sits down on one of the comfy furniture rectangles - a bed, she thinks it's called. They've all been sleeping on them since their game was suspended, with dreambubbles protecting them from the nightmares that made recouperacoons and sopor slime a necessity.
And so she sits there, staring down at her plain underwear. This is when she realizes she's never actually done this before. Where does she even begin? Damn, she should have asked Ridwen for information, she knows she's never short on it. Tuatha ponders over putting her pants back on and tracking her moirail down, but she feels a dull ache in her belly that kills any motivation to stand back up.
Might as well wing it. If it doesn't work, well, it doesn't work. And so she slowly slips a hand under her panties and seeks out her slit with uncertain fingers, which draws a sharp gasp out of her. That's a good sign, right? Regardless, it surprises her enough to almost make her retract her hand, but she decides she should press on.
What do people usually do when they touch themselves? Think about someone they like, right? Well... in that case, she'll just have to think about Dagdan and pretend those are his fingers in her underwear, right? Right. Slowly, she brings her fingertips to her slit again and parts the folds. She closes her eyes and lets her imagination take control...
"Tuatha?"
She nearly jumps out of her skin, but she knows she can't afford to move from her seat, what with her back facing the door. It's him. "W-what?" she stammers.
"Are you okay? I heard you moaning and say my name. Did you need help?" There's a slight pause, and she hears him step forward. "Does your stomach hurt?"
What? Where did he get that idea? Moreover, he's coming over here! "N-no, I'm fine, but--"
"Why are your pants off?" he asks in a puzzled tone. He's still not stopping.
"Don't come over here-!" she manages, but too late. Dagdan's made his way to her and around the bed and now his gaze rests upon her hand in her underwear. She gawks at his face as realization slowly dawns upon him, his cheeks taking on a jade hue.
"Oh," he simply says. Awkward moment of silence, and then he sits down on the bed next to her. Why isn't he leaving?! "Enjoying yourself, huh?" Tuatha doesn't know what to say to that. Dagdan pauses, licking his lips. "When you said my name... were you thinking about me?"
Her jaw drops. He did say he heard his name. She had literally just started. How much time passed since she let her imagination take over? Why didn't she notice the words coming out of her own mouth? Unable to say anything, she just meekly nods.
He chuckles. "Well, I'm flattered," he says and turns to look at her. "I'm kind of glad you were doing that while thinking of me, I mean... I've been doing the same while thinking about you," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck.
"R-really?" Tuatha finally manages. She feels her whole body heat up, and it doesn't even occur to her that maybe she should take her hand out of her underwear during a conversation.
"Really, because..." he trails off and looks down at the floor, his blush deepening. "Well, I like you a lot, you're really cute, and I'd like to get closer to you, you know?"
Oh. So basically, the same thing she's been feeling. "Closer... how?" She gulps, thinking she might already know the answer.
"Like... physically," he finally says after a prolonged pause. "But I didn't know how to bring it up to you."
"... Actually," Tuatha mumbles, and clears her throat, "I was wondering the same thing..."
"Really?" he looks up and smiles somewhat sheepishly. Slowly, he puts his hand on top of her free one. "Then... do you wanna do it sometime? Maybe not now, but..."
It's weird. Her throat feels parched, but her eyes are prickly with tears, and she's not even sure why. She just bites her lip and nods slightly, fighting the smile that's threatening to creep up to her lips.
He smiles and scoots closer to her, picking up her hand and lacing their fingers together. He brings her hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to her knuckle, finally drawing a smile out of her. "But first..." he looks down at her underwear, and her hand still tucked inside it, "will you let me take care of that?"
"Oh, um..."