Northstar Vale five car garage

queenie's silence does little to sooth his own anxieties, as foreign as it is. as foreign as all of this is, so strange, so queer. he feels queer, queerer than he's felt when he laid with another boy in a different life, queerer than he's felt watching the fine lines of mato's hips and thinking of -- well, this. 

but not this at all. delight wants to question it but met with queenie's vulnerable reserve he clams up, finally, and finishes in silence, a shy, trembling silence that continues until they finally pull apart, delight's gaze dropping to the ground. with the heady rush of instinct and hormone fading off, there is a panic beginning in his chest, but he dares not let queenie see it (god, how humiliating that would be). 

instead he finds it in himself to reach out and gently brush her shoulder with his snout, wondering if she feels as out of sorts as he does -- isn't sex supposed to make you feel good after -- or if she's regretting it already. is he? no, though, it's hard to tell if that's because of the hazy-if-distant afterglow or not. the morwinyon finds his voice, a little unsteady, and whispers, "you okay?" his voice oddly soft as it breaks the fragile silence.