Knowing the secrets that you've been keeping

“I like to be tied up,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” his eyes bulged a little bit.
“Yeah.” He looked so shy.
“I think we’re going to be able to have some fun.” He tried to make his voice sound sexy in a menacing way that someone compatible with him should hopefully be able to decipher as playful.
“I dunno,” he played with the sleeves of his jumper. “I’m not really into how that stuff usually works.”
“Meaning?” He tried to suck up a sigh, make it sound a little more aligned with intense interest.
“I just like to be left.”
“What do you mean? Neglected? I could do that.” There’s nothing more pathetic than a top sounding desperate.
“No. I mean, like, just left.”
“I don’t follow.” His erection couldn’t seem to decide whether to sustain itself. Decoding this kid was hard work.
“I like to be tied up by someone. I mean, I get real pleasure from that – like serious kicks, you know? But once I’m tied up, I just like to be left. I like the person who has tied me up to just leave. I like them to leave me there alone, tied up.”
“Okay.” His expression was an attempt to look like he was trying to work through a couple of interesting social theories all related to his libido – he wanted the person he was talking to be wondering if it was possible to fit into his plans. He wanted to give off the idea that he had big plans, complicated ideas that only certain people could hope to match the scope of.
“I don’t know if that’s what you had in mind.” He drooped his head a little so his fringe fell over one eye. “Not many people seem to be into it.”
“Umm,” words weren’t going to work so he decided to just let them fall out: “What would be in that for me?” Shit, was that too honest?
“I don’t know. I mean … would you like to make me happy?”