"And I haven't gotten any taller," Maladict drawled without checking, grinning a little at William's inventory taking. He reached out a hand and ran it along the leg being offered for inspection.
William made a little surprised noise in the back of her throat. That was just a bit odd. Not that it wasn't nice, but it was nice in a very strange and disconcerting way.
"Right, thanks," William said, with a slight frown. Shorts would mean actually showing leg, but he supposed it couldn't be avoided.
...had he just thought that? Dear lord, he was turning into Sacharissa.
Maladict frowned a little, watching William look around. It wasn't a feeling of rejection, exactly, but for some reason William's discomfort in his new skin was disappointing. He slid off the bed and stood, glancing around and appropriating a pair of William's trousers.
The small cotton underwear had to go, of course.
"If you're still feeling squeamish, don't turn around," he drawled, shucking them with absolutely no hesitation or self consciousness before slinging the trousers on and hitching them to his waist. There was an excess of pant aroud his ankles, but he'd roll them in a moment.
William did not turn around; he really felt he should be allowed some sort of adjustment period for all this, rather than just be expected to be perfectly all right with all of these changes.
He considered his boxer shorts, decided they would fit under a pair of shorts, then realized it was probably bad form to wear the ones he'd been sleeping in. He found another pair and swapped the two without wasting any time about it. He tried not to feel self-conscious. It didn't quite take.
"And I haven't gotten any taller," Maladict drawled without checking, grinning a little at William's inventory taking. He reached out a hand and ran it along the leg being offered for inspection.
"I have shorts you can wear."
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William made a little surprised noise in the back of her throat. That was just a bit odd. Not that it wasn't nice, but it was nice in a very strange and disconcerting way.
"Right, thanks," William said, with a slight frown. Shorts would mean actually showing leg, but he supposed it couldn't be avoided.
...had he just thought that? Dear lord, he was turning into Sacharissa.
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Maladict's eyebrows lifted a little, and he glanced over at the noise. Then he flashed William an entirely too roguish, admittedly cheeky grin.
"You're all out of sorts. Come on," he said supportively, curling up to sitting, "We've already been through this one. And you're not even drunk."
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"It's just altogether too strange," William complained, sliding over to the edge of the bed and trying to remember where Maladicta kept her shorts.
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The small cotton underwear had to go, of course.
"If you're still feeling squeamish, don't turn around," he drawled, shucking them with absolutely no hesitation or self consciousness before slinging the trousers on and hitching them to his waist. There was an excess of pant aroud his ankles, but he'd roll them in a moment.
Reply
He considered his boxer shorts, decided they would fit under a pair of shorts, then realized it was probably bad form to wear the ones he'd been sleeping in. He found another pair and swapped the two without wasting any time about it. He tried not to feel self-conscious. It didn't quite take.
Reply
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