[Hans never thought of himself as someone worth a second look. He had always been a gangly child who didn't grow into his long limbs until his early adulthood. Between the two of them, he thinks it's clear who has the better body. Edmond always seemed comfortable with himself, always moved with the grace and power of a tiger. And Hans - he feels awkward and large as he undoes his clothes, fingers fumbling once or twice over the buttons.
There's no smart comments as he works. Hans works layer by layer. When he takes an article off, he's careful to set it down on the chair. Neat. Tidy. When his chest is bare, he looks up for a moment at Edmond, cheeks tinged pink by the cold air, before continuing. It isn't long before he stands before Edmond in only his underwear.
It's terrifying to be seen. But this is different from the theater stage. So he sits on the bed, hands in his lap as if he's a prim lady at a tea party with strangers.]
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There's no smart comments as he works. Hans works layer by layer. When he takes an article off, he's careful to set it down on the chair. Neat. Tidy. When his chest is bare, he looks up for a moment at Edmond, cheeks tinged pink by the cold air, before continuing. It isn't long before he stands before Edmond in only his underwear.
It's terrifying to be seen. But this is different from the theater stage. So he sits on the bed, hands in his lap as if he's a prim lady at a tea party with strangers.]
It's your turn.