bakerstreet | the nonsexual intimacy meme

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[meme] shipping

the nonsexual intimacy meme

Nonsexual forms of intimacy can add a great deal of depth and variety to fiction. On one end of the spectrum, they provide extra steps to support the journey from meeting a potential lover through romance, sex, and marriage. In the middle, they convey the import of family and professional connections, distinguishing those from more casual acquaintances. On the other end, they form much of the glue in primary relationships for people who don't base their ties on sexuality. Sex is valuable, but it's not everything.

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PROMPTS

Hair care. Brushing, braiding, washing, cutting -- all of these involve a lot of careful touching in ways that many people enjoy. Hair braiding is a bonding experience in some cultures. In fact, grooming is a bonding technique for social primates in general. People without close ties to others often treat themselves to regular salon visits as a socially acceptable way to meet the need for touch and interaction.
Shaving. This involves an unusually high level of trust, especially if the person is using a straight-edge razor or something else with an exposed blade rather than just a buzzer. Although it can apply to women, shaving is one of the few forms of physical intimacy that is most closely associated with men due to their facial hair. Initiaton into shaving is a major milestone for becoming a man, not just for boys during puberty but also for transsexuals during transition.
Bathing. This varies by culture; in America most people bathe alone but some other cultures practice communal bathing. A bath is usually more intimate than a shower, although a public bath can be non-intimate and small shower stall can be intimate. It's also different when two people wash each other (an exchange of intimacy and affection) than when one person washes someone else (more of a caretaking or protective gesture).
Feeding. A classic romantic motif involves lovers feeding each other, but it works as a way of providing and caring for someone in any context. Like bathing, it can also clue whether both parties are participating equally or one is taking care of the other (temporarily or regularly). This one has an existential flavor since survival depends on food supply.
Seeing someone without their adaptive equipment on. This includes glasses, dentalware, prosthetic limbs, a wheelchair, etc. Adaptive equipment is part of one's presentation to the everyday world, and taking it off can be as intimate as removing clothing, for many people in many contexts.
Holding Hands. There can be many reasons for this gesture. Physical closeness, offering comfort, or staying together in a crowd, all may have you reaching for someone.
Undressing someone. This can be kind of a one-way experience if the recipient isn't awake, and is often awkward for both people if they are awake. Sometimes it happens because hands are out of commission, but a more common example is someone passing out drunk. Overheating is another good reason. Different circumstances can imply different levels of intimacy.
Sharing secrets. This especially applies to talking about personal issues that aren't widely known. An exchange of secrets is a common ritual between "best friends" among girls and women, but appears elsewhere as well. Some things are only discussed among people with a common reference; veterans may be more comfortable discussing war memories with each other than civilians.
Ordering for someone in a restaurant. Acquiring food, without asking the other person what to get, shows a knowledge of their needs and desires. Providing food is also a gesture of support and sustenance.
Providing moral support at a major event. Helping someone get through a funeral, a trial, or other intense but not crisis situation is usually performed by a very dear friend. This is a situation where lovers or family members may be too close to the matter to be much use.
Crying on someone. When you cry, you tend to let your guard down. Most of the people close to you will see you cry at some point, so that can be a milestone in a relationship. Actually crying on someone, letting them hold you, is even more intimate.
Serving in a primary role for someone during a wedding. This includes the best man or maid of honor at a wedding, or stand-in for absent parents, etc. as well as the traditional family roles. One aspect of intimacy is sharing each other's lives, including ceremonies and transitions.
Comforting someone after a bad breakup. Moments of great vulnerability can bring people closer. While this role sometimes falls to family, breakup repair more often goes to a woman's female friends or a man's male friends.
Listening to someone's heartbeat or breathing. Close body contact, enough to carry soft personal sounds, tends to be comforting as well as connecting, as it touches on positive childhood memories for most people. It is shared between parent and child, sometimes between siblings, and later between lovers. Tight nonsexual partners may also do this.
Putting someone to bed. Interestingly, this activity can happen among people who are just getting to know each other -- most often if someone passes out drunk, but exhaustion can have a similar effect. It's a gesture of caring to put someone to bed rather than leave them where they drop. A milder version involves draping a blanket or coat over a person asleep on a couch or the like.
Sleeping in the same bed. This is an act of shared vulnerability and intimacy. Lovers customarily do this; so do some siblings or friends, especially as children. People may also be driven to share a bed, sleeping bag, etc. for warmth or lack of other accommodations in challenging circumstances.
Watching someone sleep. There is more vulnerability on the part of the sleeper, and more intimacy from the watcher, when only one person is asleep. Parents often watch their children sleep. Lovers sometimes do this with each other, which can be cute or creepy. It's also a guard position, useful for showing that one character seeks to protect another.
Waking someone up from a nightmare. A subtler form of rescue than more physical actions, this is still a gesture of protection and caring. It often leads to comfort afterwards. A typical courtesy between parent and child, or lovers, this can also be an early threshold for characters thrust together unexpectedly if one of them has sturdy daytime walls and a lot of issues. It is common, but often unspoken, among war buddies or veterans, many of whom have nightmares.
Sharing clothes, jewelry, other personal items. This is common between siblings or close female friends. Sometimes roommates do it too. Wearing someone else's shirt or bathrobe is typical in romantic relationships, so can suggest a similar level of intimacy even in the absence of sex.
Cleaning someone else's living space. This shows care and knowledge on the part of the cleaner, and trust on the part of the recipient. You have to know what NOT to throw away or move. It's typical of family members and roommates. Coworkers may clean each other's desk, office space, etc.
Living together. This is a big step, even if it's just for a little while. Housemates are in each other's pockets; it's hard to keep secrets. Family members and lovers often live together, but housemates who are family-of-choice form a category of their own. If you don't want a romantic partner, a permanent housemate is a good choice for someone to share your life with.
Childbirth. Attending the blessed event entails providing a lot of moral support for hours under high stress. It can create a bond with the baby as well as with the mother. When planned, this opportunity is only offered to the closest family members or friends, barring professionals. But it can happen by surprise in very awkward circumstances, a popular motif in fiction.
Saving someone's life. Quick action in a life-threatening situation demonstrates how much one person values another. This can create a strong sense of connection, and sometimes obligation. It often, though not always, entails personal risk for the rescuer. This is fairly typical for military buddies or police partners, etc.
Risking your life for someone. Placing someone else ahead of your own life shows their importance to you unequivocally. This often, though not always, involves trying to save or protect another person. While it can create a sense of gratitude, it frequently causes anger as well -- someone who loves you will generally object to you endangering yourself, even to protect them. Military and police buddies protect each other regularly.
Making emergency decisions for someone. This reveals both how well you know the person, and how much you care about them -- whether you know what they would want, and act on it even if it differs from your personal preference. Unlike some of the other options, in this one the initial action is often outweighed by the aftermath. Both characters have to deal with the results of the decisions, good or bad.
Deathwatch. Dying can be as intimate as giving birth. Staying with someone while they pass is an act of love; so is providing moral support to someone sitting deathwatch for a family member or other person. Many soldiers and police have done this for someone.

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(( other hargreeves are welcome, prefer to avoid one/five, but other ships are fine; m/f for shipping cross-canon, though given his body and his mind have a 45 year age-gap, i'd kinda prefer not to ship unless you're interested in an awkward brand of may/december. i'd be down for that ))

[[How does 14/16/maybe 18 sound? Handwaving around Ben getting re-embodied (and maybe the S2 cliffhanger altogether)?]]

[[ first of all, how dare you with that heartbreaking username omfg 😩💔. second, all of this(!!!) and i have so much headcanon around five and his siblings wrt 16/18 before he jumped into the apocalypse. totally cool with handwaving as needed around corporeal body and sparrow!ben. are you thinking shippy or no? i'm good with either ]]

[[ 😂 I didn't realize I'd be pulling him out so often when I decided on it but tbh I do like how awful it is

ooh, I could definitely see bed-sharing being a thing when they were younger that gets resurrected after they're done trying to avert the apocalypse? shippy sounds like fun if you're good with it, then -- let me know if you have a preference between something established or not and I can work up a starter ]]

[[ it's incredibly rude and I love it very much lol

I'm pretty go with the flow so I'm down to roll with whatever you come up with, no preferences jump out at me so whatever's easy. ☺️ ]]

[[ that just kept coming out whoops sorry for the ramble, but I slid more towards pre-relationship -- give me a poke if anything doesn't work for you and I can edit. ]]

When they were kids, Ben had rarely slept well. Relaxing felt too much like letting his guard down, which always meant feeling the horror closer to the surface; and then there were the nightmares, more often than not. Having somebody else there helped ground him, and for years he'd resort to either sneaking into someone else's bed or staying up to the point of exhaustion most nights. Even then it was a crapshoot just how much sleep he'd manage to get, or if he'd wake up in the middle of the night.

If he'd ever had any hopes of being back in a solid body, he might have hoped it would get better. Being present all the time was boring, and as a ghost he'd wished for the ability to sleep just to pass the time faster.

Instead, it's worse than ever. He's out of practice with the monsters moving under his skin; more than that, though, he feels like he's slipping away again every time he closes his eyes. Most of the time it's impossible to forget how things have changed - everything is different, the way things feel and sound and even, in some weird way he has trouble quantifying, the way it looks - but when he lays down and tries to rest, he ends up in a panic, clutching at the sheets and whatever else he can get his hands on until he can reassure himself he's still solid. It's paranoia more than anything else, and he knows it, but it still keeps him awake more than he should be.

People still help. People help more, even, because there's such a solid, tangible difference with them, heat and sound and scent and even just the simple fact that they react to the way that he moves. Sometimes he tries to stick it out by himself, but more often than not, Ben just waits until someone's around that doesn't mind him curling up with them. Most of the time he can find somebody, and he's not shy about playing the ghost card to guilt them into it if they're on the fence for some reason.

Five was always his first choice, all those years ago. He'd been the sibling Ben was closest to, until he disappeared; his presence was steadying, calming, and if they couldn't sleep, they always could find something to talk about. It didn't hurt that if something did go wrong and the monsters did come out in the night, Five would be the most capable of slipping away before Ben could do any damage.

Everything had changed for all of them over seventeen years, and maybe most of all for Five with all his extra time, but that hadn't. Klaus had clawed his way into being Ben's best friend over the years from sheer time spent together, and from putting up with all the ways Ben took out his frustration at his own helpless on him over that time, but Five's presence is still more steadying than anyone else's. Maybe Ben's just not over the fact that he's back, yet. Or maybe it's that they have that common point, both of them experiencing that gap of time in ways so far removed from the rest of the family's experience, even if their experiences weren't that much alike in any other way.

It doesn't really matter. Or at least, it doesn't matter enough for Ben to stop himself from hanging around Five until he's ready to lie down, and curling up next to him in the bed. He can't manage to sleep, no matter how tired he feels, but being here lets him drift without spiraling down, seconds and moments slipping away into a daze. It's enough that it takes a second to register when Five makes a noise, and he lifts his head when he does, trying to gauge in the darkness whether Five is awake or asleep.

[[ no I love this setup! lmk if you need more or if this doesn't work for you; wasn't really sure how to hook when he's still sleeping, but since the prompt is waking someone up, I figured I'd keep him that way. ]]

Spending nearly half a century all alone, sleeping in abandoned cars or the odd house that wasn't completely demolished has taken a toll on Number Five. When he'd been a kid, there had always been one sibling or another to share a bed with when sleeplessness seemed insistent upon taking hold of him, and even if he was the one doing the comforting rather than being on the receiving end, it always seemed to calm his mind enough to help him finally drift off. Having to learn to live without that crutch — and it very much had been a crutch for him, make no mistake — had been maybe one of the hardest parts of the experience for him as a whole. It's half the reason he ended up with Dolores, though her solidity in his arms or at his back had never been comforting or, for that reason, terribly satisfying.

The first few nights back at the Academy had been strangely even more lonely because he'd been back in his old room on his own bed but no sibling lying beside him creating an uncomfortable cognitive dissonance. The two siblings he would've most likely have shared his bed with weren't even under the same room. One of them wasn't even still alive, something that had torn into Five a lot more when he'd gotten back to 2019 to see for himself that he was gone. Reading it had been upsetting, but the confirmation had been like a punch in the gut.

Needless to say, having Ben back, giving both of them a second chance to get to know one another again and, more importantly, having that security blanket again, had been one of the best things to ever happen to Five in his entirely too long life.

Ben seemed to have had the same idea and had hung close so when it was time to turn in for the night, Five hadn't had to go out of his way to invite Ben to join him. The weight beside him on the mattress for the first time in far, far too long and the smell of leather that seems to have decided to permanently cling to Ben's skin lulls Five almost immediately to sleep. Peaceful sleep, though, it is not; it never is.

He doesn't know how long he gets to enjoy his slumber before the stillness is interrupted by his past trauma frolicking freely in his subconscious trying to cobble together a story for him as he sleeps. Five had never enjoyed what he did at the Commission. He did what he had to do to get home, but he never liked killing people. Sometimes, like now, the innocent ones who were going to get in the way somewhere down the line haunt him even now. Sometimes, he thinks they always will.

Never having a bed partner as an adult means that Number Five is unaware of his tendency to groan or whimper in response to the terrible dreams that have plagued him for decades. Even before the Commission, after all, there was plenty of horror for his subconscious to invent after almost an entire lifetime of loneliness and isolation in the tattered, burning ruins of the world he used to know.

Never having a bed partner as an adult also means that Number Five doesn't know how restlessly he truly sleeps. He doesn't know that sometimes he thrashes, and other times, he trembles. The only thing he does know is that when he wakes up, more often than not, it's in a cold sweat, something he probably should have considered before indulging he and his brother in their urges to go back to the way things Used To Be, a lifetime ago for Number Five.

He should have expected something like this, Ben recognizes dimly, as the pained noises Five is making fully register. Or at least recognized the possibility of it. Five had been through more than enough fuel for nightmares even before they went through an entire new apocalypse. Their childhood alone would have been enough, even; he's pretty sure none of them had managed to escape without some bad dreams, even if how intense they are and how often they come varies.

Ben's first thought is to shout, loud as he can and hope it works, instincts from over a decade almost kicking in before his tired brain can catch up. He stops with it on the tip of his tongue, realizing that there are other options, that he has more than a voice to offer now.

Instead he moves the hand that had been resting lightly against Five's side to lay against his shoulder. He's careful not to hold tightly, trying to avoid anything that could be mistaken for holding him down in a barely-awake state, instead of just present. He doesn't know what kind of nightmares it is that stick with his brother, what kind of things he might have gone through in his time with the Commission in particular, and he doesn't want to make it worse if he can manage.

"Five," he calls. It still feels loud, in the darkness and the silence, but it isn't the yell he'd first intended it to be. He shakes Five's shoulder carefully as he calls again, calm and firm despite the drowsiness that still clouds his tone. "Five, you're dreaming. Wake up."

At the tactile sensation, Five's muscles stiffen. In the dream, someone is reaching for him and while they haven't managed it just yet in his subconscious, that visual coupled with the actual physical sensation is disorienting. But then the dream hand does seize his shoulder and Number Five tries to shake away from it. In actuality, he barely moves at all, though it might register as a flinch.

Ben's voice starts to take over the voice of the dream assailant whose face Five hasn't actually completely recognized — though, if asked later when he's had some time to process, he might realize that it's a horrifying hybrid between Dolores and the Handler, if the Handler had been one of his victims in the board room. Hearing the voice a second time, though, breaks through the din and Five's eyes snap open. He wakes with a gasp but very little actual movement. Number Five's heart is racing like a terrified rabbit's, practically thrumming in his chest rather than beating as he feels his brain stumbling into reality again. The Academy. Bed. Ben.

Taking a shaky breath, Five shifts just slightly, releasing his arm from beneath himself — the whole thing tingles wildly, itching terribly as the blood rushes back into it after he'd fallen asleep on it and cut off the circulation for God knows how many hours, now. He can barely feel the outline of Ben's hand under his own because of the numbness as his arm and hand wake up again, but he puts it there anyway, silent for a moment, to let Ben know that he's awake and he's making his way to alertness.

After a long moment, he finally speaks, voice croaking with sleep still heavy in it. "...sorry," is what comes out first. A beat, and then, "thanks for waking me up." Another beat passes before Five looks over his shoulder at his brother and gives him a small, grateful smile that falls short of his tired eyes. He means it, but the energy just isn't there, yet, to make his eyes match his intent. "Did I wake you up?" Maybe Ben was just not asleep yet. Five had just spent the last nearly three weeks fighting to stop not one, but two apocalyptic events and as soon as he'd hit the pillow, he'd been out like a light. Ben might not have gone to sleep quite as easily.

It's almost tangible, that moment when somebody snaps from sleeping to awake; or maybe Ben's just too familiar with what it looks and sounds like from time spent hovering around and watching people sleep. Either way, he can hear it when Five shifts into wakefulness, and he waits, quiet, for him to get the rest of the way there. He's about to remove his hand, to give him the chance to get space, when Five's settles over his, and Ben settles in where he is instead.

"No." He might have said it either way, even if it wasn't the truth this time. Five wouldn't have cared when they were kids; but he's so tightly guarded and self-sufficient these days that Ben doesn't know what would stir up that feeling and bring those gates down. It's part of why he lets the apology go without comment for the moment, not sure whether reassurances would have the opposite of their intended effect. And Five should know, or would have known before anyway, that he doesn't mind. Ben had been the one pulling the other out of sleep with his crying or his turning more than often enough. "You fell asleep pretty fast. I was still up."

He can feel a yawn building at the thought of it, though, and he tenses his jaw closed to try and swallow the sound, other hand sliding up to press over his mouth for a moment and stifle it. There'll be plenty of time to sleep later -- for both of them, hopefully, because he can see the exhaustion still lingering in Five's face, feel it in the line of his shoulders. For now he gives it a second to let the urge settle before he asks, voice soft, "Are you okay?"

Five takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, willing his heart to stop racing and for his muscles to ease out of their tense state. Ben says that Five didn't wake him but Five's not sure he believes it. Still, it's reassuring to hear, anyway and that helps him relax a little bit, especially when Ben elaborates.

He watches Ben stifle a yawn and Five feels one of his own take him over. He doesn't bother to stifle it and, damn, they really are contagious, aren't they? "Yeah, I'm fine," he replies. Physically, he is, beyond the part where his body is sore with the tension in it. That'll settle sooner than later.

Mentally and emotionally, a little less so. He sighs. "Sometimes I wonder if I even remember what it feels like to sleep through the night." He pauses and looks over at Ben. "...did you still have to sleep as a ghost or have you just spent the last sixteen years wide awake with no respite?" That sounds horrifying to Five, so he hopes that's not the case.

Fine doesn't seem entirely accurate -- physically unharmed, but that's not all that matters, and not what he was asking. Ben considers asking what Five was dreaming about for a moment, but lets him move on without voicing the question. He can always ask later, if Five doesn't fall asleep again, or if it seems to keep bothering him.

The question gets a tiny smile and a shake of the head. "That makes it sound worse than it was, but no. No sleep for the dead, it turns out. I tried but it never worked."

Even that's probably more than he's told any of them about what being dead was like. Nobody's asked so far; he's not sure if they're worried it's going to upset him, or if it's just unnerving to get concrete details about what it's like. Maybe a little of both. It makes him hesitate for a second, uncertain about sharing the details, but Five asked, and he might as well talk about it while it's out there. "Sometimes when Klaus got high enough things went fuzzy, but it didn't feel like sleeping. More like... being in the dark with earplugs in? I couldn't always make out everything that was happening, but I was still there for it."

"That sounds fucking boring," Five says honestly, frowning slightly. Most of the time, when Five had been feeling especially lonely in the apocalypse, he'd sleep just to pass the time. He can't even begin to fathom how much longer that practical eternity would've felt if he couldn't break it up with sleep every once in a while.

He frowns a little at the description of what it was like for Ben when Klaus was too high to focus. That sounded even worse, but he doesn't say so.

Finally, he looks over at Ben for the first time. "It's not so bad, then, mostly? Being dead?" he asks tentatively. It might sound like he's prodding for the sake of knowing Ben's experience, but it's only partially that. A larger part of him wants to know that, if nothing else, all of the people he killed for the Commission to try to get back to his family stopped suffering once they were actually dead and couldn't feel the injuries anymore.

No sleep for the dead and no sleep for the weary, but perhaps Ben is in a unique position to ease that guilty part of Five's mind. The part that he keeps very tight to his chest. So tight that sometimes he forgets to acknowledge that it's there at all.

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the nonsexual intimacy meme

Number Five • The Umbrella Academy

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