log: louis and ren
The lead was easier for Ren, although he could follow. But at most proper dances, and he'd been at a few, this was the expected arrangement and so he'd had more practice doing precisely that, even if he could drop back into letting someone else do it. For a half moment he wished he had music, but then it fell away, the rhythm of the dance itself taking over out of the knowing of it. "I don't mind being Prince Charming," Ren smiled, his fingers turning through Louis's in a way that was not particularly traditional, but he liked the feel of them, slender, and seemingly strong. "So long as there's a happily ever after in there."
He wondered then, at the dance that Louis had done, his gaze running over the other man's face trying to see someone who was younger, wondering what he was like then. He wondered, but perhaps should not ask - was it too intimate? - why his parents had given up when he was merely eighteen. It seemed young, if they'd really wanted him married. Ren's own parents hadn't bothered so much with that. For all the areas in which they'd wanted to exercise control - marriage had not been among them. Perhaps because they expected him to not get married, like his Uncle.
But the question drew forth the necessity of an answer and Ren tilted his head. "I do, sometimes." He'd never been particularly ashamed of that fact, but there was always a moment when he was with a man of whether that would be a turn-off or some sort of trouble. There was a moment's hesitation as he added. "But I feel like most of my meaningful romances have been with men - for better or for worse, and it feels more like a lot of worse." But there was a list, a crush in school, a kiss during those years, the on again off again University romance, and around those some women, but the things that kept leaving their mark, were men. "And you?"