"The way you make me feel like I've lost all motor control and my brain is melting and five hundred other horrible cliches that I generally try to avoid saying because this isn't a soap opera or a dimestore novel."

Yes, now he's blushing. Just a bit.

"And... well, I've been thinking about it, is all. You do it to me often enough. I'm not seriously worried. I'm just not liking feeling like you do all the hard work in bed. I don't know. Like I should be more pro-active or something."

He rests his head back down, muttering into his chest.

"I think it might tie in to the thing about taking control. I don't do things to you often enough."