12 a.m, i opened an incognito tab on my friend’s computer and search the name of a poorly animated hentai. we grabs some beers and make ourselves comfortable and laugh and drink at each of the re-used images.

1 a.m, he showed me the yuri he consumes and we blush and giggle at the awkwardness of the subject and each cute scene that arises. my mental note of which ones i’d like to read begins.

2 a.m, we share music and speak deeply about our connection to radiohead songs. he plays me the track they wrote for james bond and i internally cry about the fact i hadn’t heard this captivating piece before. we continue our musical appreciation with jazz and soundtracks that build up to something you weren’t expecting.

3 a.m, we recognise that we should be going to bed, but are far more captivated by searching through our own personal collections of yaoi and yuri to share with the other, sending lists of links. as i begin to show him the yaoi i found most enjoyable in my youth, he turns to me and politely mentions “we should go to bed at 4.”

4 a.m, we’re laying in the dark, my body slowly sinking closer to the floor as my blowup mattress deflates – neither one of us is ready to sleep. i wriggle onto my side to get comfortable under the several layers of blankets whilst asking, “so what do you get off to?” he seems a little taken aback by the question – a mixture of embarrassment, teenage awkwardness, and surprise.

5 a.m, we’re openly discussing our kinks and fantasies – even the ones we’d never uttered to another soul before. as the hours pass, we become more comfortable about sharing our sexual interests through the embarrassment and taboo that comes with the subject. “i like being called a slut”, “what are your thoughts of pet play?”, “i’m intrigued by anal but also very afraid“, “i read a book on d&s relationships…”

6 a.m, “we can go to sleep if you’re tired?”
wide eyed, i turn and say “not at all,” with a large grin wrapped around my face.
“good, me neither.” we smile at the shared excitement of baring our inner thoughts to the other. the complete lack of judgement has never wavered through the night, keeping a calm hold on both young adults.
the conversation transitions into our thoughts on porn, escorts, and human sex trafficking.

7 a.m, tip-toeing down the stairs to the kitchen to find biscuits to appease my stomach. we look out the window to the garden and i mention how we should have watched the sun rise, but agree that the night has already been well spent.

8 a.m, he reads me an excerpt from his kindle of someone’s story as a submissive. we speak more on the subject of bdsm consent, leading to him showing me a website where each of the stars fully consent to whatever fetishy things occur in that video. we watch a trailer for one of their films where a woman is vigorously fucked by a sex machine, and squirts more times than i’ve splashed water in the bathtub.

9 a.m, “y’know, the alarm’s gonna go off in an hour?” i mention.
“yeah, i guess we should get some rest.”
we get ourselves comfortable yet again, but this time we actually drift off.

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