There were approximately 5,000 reasons why it was weird, yes, starting with SEX and then MERLIN and then ARTHUR and then SEX and then .... mostly going back to the Merlin part again with a brief jaunt into BOYS and ow though it was a smaller ow than it might have been last week and also SEX and...
And it was Merlin. Francine scooted back towards the wall a bit and slowly peeled the lid off her ice cream.
"Weird to talk about, or, um. Weird to... do?" she asked, staring at her spoon.
"You're not an idiot," Francine told him. On the contrary, it was she who felt like somehow she'd failed a grade and might have to go to summer school if she wanted to graduate. She dug out a spoonful of ice cream and looked over at him as she licked at it. "Of course it's weird. You never.... everything's weird when it's new."
"Um. Thanks?" Oh.... pffffffffffph. Francine watched the ice cream melt in her spoon as she breathed out a breath of indeterminate but definitely sigh-like nature at it.
Fail, Francine. Fail. This conversation is not about you. Not like that, anyway.
"No, I know what you mean. I mean... yeah." She nodded towards Katchoo's side of the room, then looked back at him and asked carefully. "Is it because he's a boy?"
Soweirdsoweirdsoweirdsoweirdsoweird and yet bizarrely not as weird as if she were having this conversation with, oh, Katchoo about equally weird things.
"Was it..." She'd bury her face if there were anything to do that with besides ice cream, because sticky. Francine wasn't sure if it was good or horrible that she'd watched just enough gay porn -- with him -- to have images and... ideas about what might have been weird. "It didn't, um. Hurt?" If anyone wondered, it was possible to be concerned and mortified at the same time.
< FRANCINE!!!!1 >
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Which was also obscene.
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.....
Yes, this qualified as strange. And requiring of ice cream.
"Oh."
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And it was Merlin. Francine scooted back towards the wall a bit and slowly peeled the lid off her ice cream.
"Weird to talk about, or, um. Weird to... do?" she asked, staring at her spoon.
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Fail, Francine. Fail. This conversation is not about you. Not like that, anyway.
"No, I know what you mean. I mean... yeah." She nodded towards Katchoo's side of the room, then looked back at him and asked carefully. "Is it because he's a boy?"
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"Was it..." She'd bury her face if there were anything to do that with besides ice cream, because sticky. Francine wasn't sure if it was good or horrible that she'd watched just enough gay porn -- with him -- to have images and... ideas about what might have been weird. "It didn't, um. Hurt?" If anyone wondered, it was possible to be concerned and mortified at the same time.
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"No! No, no. It was like--um--" More bizarre hand motions to explain things. Only these hand motions actually were of what he was talking about.
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