bakerstreet | The Nonsexual Intimacy Meme

The Nonsexual Intimacy Meme

The Nonsexual Intimacy Meme

Intimacy is NOT necessarily about full sexual contact. Intimacy is all about two people forming a connection and bond between them. That involves becoming best friends, trusting each other, knowing each other, understanding each other. Intimacy is grown and developed, it can't be rushed.

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 mate 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 and romance are valuable, but they're 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.

(taken from here)

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"Sucks. I know how it is," he admitted with a grin. "Why I came running here."

Another joke, a lot of snark. It was what got them through things. At least for Isaac it was.

"Oh. Commitment. Okay, now you're asking a lot. Least in this town." Everyone knew them. No matter what had changed in their lives, everyone had known them their entire lives and knew who they were. Before. Now. Ever. "So why are you home instead of trying to meet a girl willing to share a variety of bodily pleasures with?"

Wasn't that obvious, Isaac? "Because there aren't any girls that match up to Lydia. Or that have even the remotest of interest in me. I'm double screwed, and not in the way that ensures my pleasure.

He shrugged, getting a cloth out to dry the mugs. "I'm okay with waiting for the right person. If it's the right one, it'll be worth it."

Yeah, he knew it was a vaguely archaic and antiquated view of things, but even his hormonal drive couldn't outmatch the way he was brought up. He wanted what his parents had had. He was willing to wait for it.

"Okay, you know my feelings on Ms Martin these days. As for interest in you, how would you know? You didn't even know Erica did," he pointed out.

He snorted, giving him a look. "You so sure about that? What if you give up everything else and they're not out there," he asked, though now he was more talking about himself as much as Stiles. "You should be enjoying yourself."

"Because I'm not a mind reader. If people don't say anything, how am I supposed to know. I let Lydia know often that I'm interested in her. I haven't heard anything directed my way since that peep from Erica, and I'm pretty sure she's over that."

He put the dried mugs in the cupboard, closing it and looking over at Isaac. "I do enjoy myself. Usually twice a day. Minimum. And I don't want to settle. If it's going to be a forever thing, then I can wait for the right forever. Hopping around from girl to girl isn't something I could see myself doing. Is that how you see me?"

"Yeah she sometimes does that," he said, leaning back against the counter. "Erica that is. I try and not deal with Lydia anymore. So find a girl that isn't Lydia who you could like. Someone, you know, with a soul."

Which was cruel but, you know, true in his mind.

Isaac laughed. "Yeah well... fair enough. About the enjoying yourself thing. As for how I see you? Who knows. I'm not sure how I see you."

"Lydia has a soul." It was habit to defend her and he folded his arms, looking down at his feet. "I don't hang out with girls. None that I'm interested in." He'd been so fixated on one that all the rest had been friendzoned. He couldn't even think about dating anyone that he'd known for as long as he probably had.

He shrugged, pushing off from the counter. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

"Sure. You do that just because, don't you?" Because he knows he would with Erica as well, protecting her though she doesn't need it. "So change that and start. We should go out," he said with a nod. "You need to get a date, have fun, not be stuck with annoying wolves harassing you like I am. Oh wait. Already dealing with that."

He smiled though, having gotten past his panic for the time being. "I don't know either, but I don't know you well enough to say what I think of you, and not just who I think you are."

He was ignoring that, Isaac. The offer had him giving Isaac a look. "Go out? Get dates? I, uh, I don't think that's a good idea." Mostly because if Isaac was running around getting laid, Stiles wasn't sure he wanted to hook up with anyone he might have slept with (eww), or anyone that thought just jumping into sex right off the bad sounded like a good plan.

He shrugged. "I guess that's an answer. Or, it's as good as any." He turned to leave the kitchen, assuming Isaac would just follow him up to his room (like a good puppy).

"Why is that a bad idea? Staying around here waiting on Lydia isn't going to help you." In his own mind, a rather twisted mind but still, Isaac is trying to help. He really does feel he's trying. "Would you rather dating a classmate?"

Because they knew them, and had their whole lives. And he does follow. Maybe not good but definitely well heeled. "So... Who are you?"

No, it wouldn't help him. He knew that on the level that mattered, but that didn't stop him from wanting it nonetheless. He shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know, Isaac. I've spent so long wanting Lydia, I have no idea what I want outside of her."

Reaching his room, he went to go back to sitting on his bed, looking at the clock. 1:45am. Great. "Stiles Stilinski. Best friend to a werewolf. Apparently invisible to the girl of my dreams and basically canon fodder and an expendable pawn in the game of Beacon Hills."

Isaac goes silent, obviously having actually listened and considering that and what it means. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he makes a small sound. "So... Guess you're at the figuring out part. Huh."

He went quite again, thinking about it. "You won't find out unless you go out meeting people. I mean to find what you like. And you're not expendable," he said, standing in the doorway. "No one thinks that."

Honestly? He felt like it was breaking some kind of habit or addiction. He knew keeping up with his fascination with Lydia was a bad thing, probably for both of them, but that didn't make it any easier to do. "I don't know."

He leaned back, hands on the bed bracing him up. "You could have fooled me. Scott's the one that's a crucial game player. I'm usually just 'in the way', or used to make a point." It was what he felt like, anyway. Being helpless to do anything when Peter had attacked Lydia had almost killed him. Getting the crap kicked out of him by a terminal octogenarian hadn't helped.

Isaac leaned against the door frame, watching Stiles curiously. Not the sharp gaze, waiting to make a biting comment but really looking at him, trying to see what drives him. "Maybe that's where you need to start. With what you saw in her that you wanted. You know, beyond treating you like shit. If that was all you wanted, you would be dating the pack."

What? They tend to abuse him too, after all.

"I don't see you as in the way. You're just... more vulnerable than most of us. Maybe that means some of us don't want to risk you. Or, you know, if you're Erica, hurt you more," he teases. "So, find the way to make yourself invaluable."

He gave Isaac a bland roll of his eyes for that comment. The reasons why he liked Lydia were many, mostly for what she didn't show than what she did. She cared about people. She had the capacity to truly care, she just didn't show it. She was smart. She was gorgeous. Admittedly, the bitch act got old, but he could look past that and see what she was.

"As if. Erica likes taking pieces out of my hide. I think she gets off on it." She certainly did seem to enjoy those moments of shoving, hitting, and generally making his life hell. "I can't shoot for shit so the only thing I've got going for me is my brain."

"You can give me that look all you want, but all her good doesn't forgive treating people like she does," he says, fixing him with a look. "From someone that knows he's a monster in some of the things he does, I recognize it in others." Which is honesty on his part, even if it is a bit cruel at the same time. More than a bit.

"I excluded her," he says, pushing away from the door and moving into the room. He drops into the chair at the desk. "You can learn to shoot. By using that brain of yours. Speaking of which, that puts you ahead of most of us. You know my grades." Of course, some of his failing grades came from missing school as much as doing poorly.

"You asked to be a monster. You knew what you were getting into. Lydia does the bitch act as a defense mechanism. I use sarcasm, you beat the crap out of people and she plays the ice queen." Everyone had their ways of coping. Some were less healthier than others.

"Yeah, I'm usually one of the only ones that knows what's going on, which, you know, I don't get. If you're going to be a werewolf, don't you think it would behoove you to actually do a little research on the idea? Like, just a little?"

He bit back the sarcasm, the snark that covered the truth. Instead he goes with the truth. "And you know why I asked. No one else was going to help me. No one had for years," he snarled, lip curling though he looks away, not able to make eye contact when he talks about it. "I either saved myself or I eventually wouldn't be here." Much as he wanted to deny it, there were nights he was positive he would die in that freezer.

"I'm ... I just wanted to live, Stilinski." He can feel it rising, the pain of the nightmares that had brought him there in the first place. "I did what I had to, and..."

He shakes his head, up and out of the chair in a heartbeat. "I should go. I can't..." Still shaking his head, breathing quick fire, rapid, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Edited 2013-06-10 08:38 (UTC)

"Dude, if you'd told someone... If you'd told my dad..." Stiles' dad had been more than pissed to hear from Jackson that not only had this been going on for a long while, but that Jackson had known and just hadn't given a crap. Logically, he knew it had to have been hard for him, that maybe it had felt like no one would help, but no one who wasn't a giant dickweed had known.

The switch thrown in Isaac is visible. Stiles stands, hands out in an attempt at a calming gesture. "Whoa, hold on. Don't get all freakazoided out again. You only get one cup of cocoa a night." He moved forward, trying to keep him from jumping out the window. Who knows what a werewolf having an anxiety attack could do out there?

He shakes his head, but he doesn't bolt. Putting his hands into his pockets, arms close to his side. Tense even as his chest heaves. Fighting to stop the attack, hating anyone was seeing him like this. He works hard to hide it, even from Derek.

"Tell them what? My dad, who I love, doesn't think I am well enough behaved," he asks, showing how he still sees it. "I didn't want him to get in trouble."

Closing his eyes, shoulders slumping. "And then it was me making that choice that got him killed that night."

He knows logically it would have happened anyway, but that doesn't stop him feeling that guilt, knowing the bite, the change, had caused the chain of events that night.

"Yeah, let me rush to your dad and tell him everything. I think we already faced a werewolf in jail."

He winces, realizing all he's said. "Forget it. I'm talking shit,' he mutters.

"Isaac, there is a serious difference between a timeout corner and a timeout freezer. Did you honestly think that was normal? At all? Really?" That was what surprised him the most. If Isaac had actually thought that people wound stuffed in freezers and got knocked around when they misbehaved. "You've seen me. You've seen the shit I've gotten into. Have you ever seen my dad raise a hand to me?" Because face it, if anyone deserved it, Stiles did.

Jesus, he was more messed up than Stiles had thought. "Matt had it out for your dad before you ever got bit, Isaac. That was his choice, not yours. If you hadn't run off, it would have just happened in your house."

He rubbed a hand over his head. "Dude, you weren't in the wrong there. Your dad was. With Matt, with you... he screwed up." Isaac was all kinds of broken and Stiles didn't have a clue how to put him back together again.

He winces, jerking with those words. His gaze fixes on a spot on the floor, not looking up even as his jaw works. He knows he could take out the window, be gone before Stiles blinks. Then what? He calls Derek? Scott? Hell, his own dad. He didn't need to be a fugitive again.

Slowly he turns his head, looking at him. Trying to be hard, held within, the guy that took out others for tickets and destroyed lockers and did what had to be done.

"I deserved it, Stiles. That's what I thought. What I think. He did it because it was what I needed." He knows it isn't entirely true but the need to defend his dad, to cling to the man he was before so it justified all he became. "I know it isn't how most parents are, Stiles. I'm not stupid."

Yet his tone doesn't change. Just staring towards him, kind of past him.

"He saw me heal, Stiles. He... I got cut," he says, gesturing towards his face. He thinks about his fear, how he could have lost an eye, would have sported a massive scar he couldn't try and hide without the healing. "He saw it heal."

"It isn't how any parents are. Dude, if anyone had known, well, if anyone other than Jackson had known, you might have actually figured that out. Because no, that is not cool. Whatever you did, you didn't deserve that."

He shakes his head. "So what? That didn't kill him. Matt killed him. Matt. Not you. Not your wolfy powers. Matt. Matt would have killed him that night regardless. Don't you get that? You didn't start this. As much as I'd love to blame Derek for it, he didn't start it either. Well, I mean, he gave Matt the weapon, but Matt was the one who pulled the trigger."

Straightening, he forces himself to loosen that hold on himself, arms pressing so hard to his sides that his wrists hurt. He nods, forcing his breath in and out, even, regular. Except there is nothing normal about his mannerisms and his words, not at that moment.

"Yeah. I know. You're right."

They don't come easily but they are relatively smooth. He's lied for so many years he's good at doing it. "None of it had anything to do with me." He can say it, repeat it over and over again. Maybe one day he'll believe it.

"Thanks for listening to me bitch."

Like he's just been whining about an early curfew, or being grounded.

Stiles just stares at Isaac. He knows well enough when he's being lied to, but it's not his job to be his therapist. Hell, he didn't even know if he liked the guy. Some days yes, most days no. But he felt bad. He knew what that kind of anxiety could do to you and how things could creep and fester in your mind, all these self doubts that made you feel like shit.

"Consider it payback for you having to babysit the other night." With or without his permission. But that annoyance would be directed at Derek, not Isaac.

Rolling his shoulders, trying to ease the tension, he just stares at Stiles. Isn't his place to have to listen to Isaac, after all. He's been good enough to let him have this break down to begin with. And provided chocolate.

He laughs, shaking his head. "Not that we have a lot of options, but I volunteered for that. And I came up here. I could have stayed outside, hidden. You never would have known."

And now he's regretting he didn't do that. He should have just stayed hidden, hiding away and forgotten.

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