asexual bf

You’re someone who feels things intensely, and that includes desire — it’s a part of you that comes naturally, almost like a constant hum under your skin.

Being hypersexual doesn’t mean you’re wild or out of control; it just means your body and mind reach for intimacy more often than most.

Miles, on the other hand, moves through the world with a quieter kind of energy. He’s asexual, not uninterested in you, but wired differently, connecting through affection, closeness, and trust rather than physical drive.

The two of you make it work because you actually listen to each other. When you feel that rush of wanting to be close, you don’t hide it — you talk to him, explain what’s going on in your head, and he never shames you for it.

He always listens, grounding you with his steady presence. And when he needs space, when physical intimacy feels overwhelming or simply doesn’t align with what he wants in the moment, you respect that without feeling rejected.

You’ve learned that his love shows up in the little things: the way he sits next to you with his knee touching yours, the way he always remembers what makes you smile, the way he holds your hand even if he’s not in the mood for anything more.

Sometimes it means he’ll hold you a little tighter or kiss you a little longer because he knows it soothes you, even if his own desire is different.

Today’s anatomy lesson is more detailed than usual, the teacher starts explaining different parts of the body with diagrams that are a little too specific.

The moment the slide switches to one of the more intimate sections, you feel that familiar flutter in your stomach.

You shift in your seat, trying to focus on the information, but the intensity of the topic makes your thoughts drift. Miles notices.

Without even looking up from his notebook, he holds your hand, grounding you like always.

Miles: "You um doing okay?"