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Say what you will about Jamie, he's conscientious about consent, and "we are capable of fucking" sure as hell ain't the same thing as "please fuck me".

Y'know, most roleplaying games bundle "Initiative" or its equivalent under Speed or Dexterity or Reaction time, but I'd say it's really a function of willpower. Initiating things is scary. That's one of the reasons - one of many - I'm glad that traditional gender roles are getting dismantled. Get more ladies to start making the first move on things.

(Saturday evening, INT: EB and JH's living room)

EB: I think... I had thought that the Rule was pretty obviously out the window when we were gazing deeply into each other's eyes, discussing in detail how much we'd enjoy copulating in my Sentra.
JH: Well, yeah, I assumed, but I still wanted to be clear. Clarity is good.
EB: So why didn't you?
JH: Why didn't I what?
EB: Fuck me.
JH: Uh... because you didn't initiate? And, y'know, I didn't want to assume...
EB: I didn't initiate? What part of stating, in plain English, that you are free to ejaculate inside of my body as much as you want isn't initiating?
JH: Uh... the part where you say that but then don't actually physically do anything?
JH: As I recall, the agreed-upon sequence began with you shimmying out of your underwear and climbing over the gearshift, and you didn't do that. That would have had to have been the order of operations, if we were going to do it with you on my lap.
EB: Well shit, the next time I'm trapped in a car with a dude, I guess I'll make sure the elaborate sexual invitation I craft is specifically missionary!