Alan is amazing.
My nipples hurt so bad I can barely wear a t-shirt.
He offered to let me move in. Not a decision or anything, I'm not packing my bags, but a not-quite-offhand "Hey, if you're ever looking for a place to stay..." and even though it'll probably never happen it's kind of cool to think about.
Only funny observation: we are both extremely anti-PDA. At home we'll be completely draped over each other; when we go out we act like church kids on a chaperoned trip. We don't even hold hands. Usually we sit or walk about two feet apart. The idea of actually touching each other in public, even in the most innocuous of ways, is just unimaginable. If I so much as touch his knee in a restaurant I feel like I've just stripped and mounted him in front of everybody.
But in, um, a bad way.
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