[he took his sweatshirt off (which is actually jason's if they're being technical) and that's it! there's still plenty else to account for: skinny-style jeans, oversized t-shirt, the open button-up he has over that— wait, no, it's gone now, too. yet somehow, he's still overheated despite having shed those layers. he huffs, rolls the hairtie onto his wrist, kneads his fingers across his scalp with a pleased hum.] Right.

[well, maybe not entirely? but sure. he considers rewording, second-guesses whenever dick's voice lowers, mouth abruptly going dry at the inquiry. talking is all they're doing and it's one-hundred-percent harmless, yes? (has dick ever tried giving up control before? how convenient, sizhui's used to being in both positions.)] I think part of it's being rewarded for even trying. [an almost too long silence then he continues,] Or for doing something unexpected?

To be fair, I'm still learning myself as well. [a second, somehow even longer pause and he sighs,] Sometimes, it's as simple as batting my eyelashes and telling him what a good boy he is. Other times, as you said, there's punishment where necessary.