Oh, and I had an interesting (for me) realization last night.

It came to me as I was falling asleep, didn't remember until just a few minutes ago.

The Bassist... he's not my usual type. He's not alpha, he's not beta, he's just off on his own. Physically, he's trim, an inch or two shorter than me, and blonde. I tend to prefer a few inches taller than me, stocky, and dark-haired. When I showed a picture of him to C, she was shocked (and amused) that I would find him attractive.

And I realized... I do find him attractive. Just not sexually.

The idea of him naked, of sex with him... it just... no. Not at all. Seems odd. I can't even imagine it, or become aroused at the thought of it.

It's not a turn off, it's just there's nothing there.

I'm attracted to him on a non-sexual level. On a novelty level, on a respect level. On a "ooooh, shiny!" level. He's healthy and innocent, in his own way. He's confident, creative, and so very talented. He dresses well, he presents himself well, and his humor is wonderful. His band is amazing to experience, his writing is lovely. He's great to hang with and I'm absolutely fascinated with him.

But I don't want him on that base level.

Like I do with Wolfboy, who the mere sight of sends my body going one hundred miles an hour because I want him so very badly.

It does amuse/worry me that I may be starting to turn into those men that cause me such concern, the ones that go after innocence in their partners as a sign of redemption, those who hide their true natures from their mates for knowing the depth of the chasm that would cause between them.

But as this has never happened before, and is unlikely to happen again, I will not let it concern me overmuch.

So there you go, kids. Back into the Mystery Machine with you.