Koa
Mateo's not-answer earns little more than an unimpressed eyeroll and a stuck-out tongue, Koa being too blissed-out to pursue the line of questioning. It's a difference between them that he's come to accept, even if he won't straight-up acknowledge it: while Mateo seems content to find love in fleeting moments where he can find it, the young Dragoon does, in fact, want more.
But in the meantime, he'll take sex.
Or except no, right now he doesn't even have that.
He leans into Mateo with a mournful sigh, head shaking against the other boy's shoulder. "I don't want someone who looks like her - I want her," he laments, voice muffled by the fact that he's burrowed into his friend's embrace. "Is this what love feels like?" Koa wonders, poking distractedly at the holes in Mateo's netted tights, his voice huffy, almost a whine. "It's terrible."
(It's not. You aren't in love, Koa. But it's cute you think you are.)
But in the meantime, he'll take sex.
Or except no, right now he doesn't even have that.
He leans into Mateo with a mournful sigh, head shaking against the other boy's shoulder. "I don't want someone who looks like her - I want her," he laments, voice muffled by the fact that he's burrowed into his friend's embrace. "Is this what love feels like?" Koa wonders, poking distractedly at the holes in Mateo's netted tights, his voice huffy, almost a whine. "It's terrible."
(It's not. You aren't in love, Koa. But it's cute you think you are.)
it struck me that the two of us could run
