Dal felt much the same. Though others frequently laid hands on him, it was never with affection. It was never because he craved their touch. It was never because someone wanted to make him feel good. So this? This was much nicer.
He often drew the people who spent time with him. Dal has an incredible memory for faces and usually spends his mornings in the all-night café drawing them. He’s often thought about attending one of those free life drawing sessions, but he’s typically sleeping when they occur. Dal dare not ask any of the people who pay to fuck him.
But Seong? Seong who just wanted to spend time with someone? He might agree to such a request.
And look at that! He said ‘sure.’
A small, genuine smile came to his face and lit up his dark eyes. Stretching where he sat, Dal reached for the small bag he always had with him. Inside, he pulled out his sketchbook with the pencil stuck in the spiral. It made a little scraped clicking sound as he pulled it free.
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He often drew the people who spent time with him. Dal has an incredible memory for faces and usually spends his mornings in the all-night café drawing them. He’s often thought about attending one of those free life drawing sessions, but he’s typically sleeping when they occur. Dal dare not ask any of the people who pay to fuck him.
But Seong? Seong who just wanted to spend time with someone? He might agree to such a request.
And look at that! He said ‘sure.’
A small, genuine smile came to his face and lit up his dark eyes. Stretching where he sat, Dal reached for the small bag he always had with him. Inside, he pulled out his sketchbook with the pencil stuck in the spiral. It made a little scraped clicking sound as he pulled it free.
“You don’t have to move if you don’t want to.”