Padca went even more rigid, a bright blush spreading over his cheeks that made him look even cuter, and Kyran sank down a little into the chair in mortification. He wasn't ashamed of his honesty, but he was also acutely aware that maybe he shouldn't flirt while being scrutinized as a bloody sex demon?
But rather than be offended or angry, Padca seemed to take it in stride. He recovered and moved right along, and Kyran stared at him with fresh appreciation.
He really wasn't scared of him or anything?
He fell quiet as Padca spoke, confirming exactly that: he wasn't a bigot.
He was making himself complicit.
Risking himself for him.
It was about the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him, not that he was experienced much when it came to romance. Still, if he wasn't so wound up he could have swooned--mostly from sheer relief. It was a twofold relief stemming from the obvious--he didn't have to worry about being outed--and perhaps the less obvious--that he had been holding all this in to the point of bursting but had no one he could safely talk to about it. With a sigh like he had been holding his breath, Kyran leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. "Thank you."
Visibly relaxed, he leaned forward a little as Padca continued, resting his elbows on the desk with his cheek pillowed on one hand. What he said made sense, and he sort of had always felt like a fish out of water who often struggled with People-ing. He hadn't thought he was that weird, but...right, maybe so. He didn't have many friends, after all, and not for lack of trying. As it just so happened, many of them got a little weirded out when he suggested sex as a bonding activity.
Slowly, as Padca asked about his symptoms, so to speak, Kyran slid his cheek off of his hand and sank lower, until his chin was resting on his arms folded atop the desk.
"All of them." He winced. "That sounds bad, but I haven't done anything bad with them. I mean, not really? When I was a kid I tried—and failed—to put my dad to sleep so I could sneak out, but it's not like I do anything creepy with them! I'd never use it to...to..." He could not say it. "I'm not my mother," he finished firmly.
"I knew the dream stuff was weird, but elves have magic so I didn't really think about it. My partners kind of always passed out after sex, but that's such a man thing, y'know? I didn't really think about it. I was always rarin' to go again and again and...ahem, again, but I figured being young and fit..." He scratched the back of his neck, flushing a little. Not from embarrassment, but from a little...shame.
"I've never tried to do energy stuff on purpose, because why would you? But...I guess...I kinda was anyway?" He snapped a look up at Padca, sudden worry creasing his brow.
"It doesn't hurt them, does it? Like I'm not like shortening their LIFE, right? Because I'm not okay with that. The only thing I wanna suck outta a guy is cu—"
He stopped himself short, mouth still open, and closed it with a soft click of sharp teeth.
"Anyway. High libido. Yes. That too." He cleared his throat. "I dunno about severity. I don't feel like I'm suffering or anything. Like I'd be happy to roll in the hay daily, multiple times, and wouldn't get bored, but--" Wait. Actually...
He sat up straight again (gods, he had always been fidgety even when he wasn't nervous) as something clicked abruptly into place, his words a little muffled as he pressed a hand to his mouth. "I get migraines," he said slowly. "I never really thought about the timing before, but...now that I think of it...it's usually if I'd had a dry spell. Like a week is pushing it. A friend told me sex helps, something about relaxing you or whatever, and it always made me feel better anyway, so I tried it and it did!"