Koa
Isn't it messed up,
How I'm just dying to be him?
How I'm just dying to be him?
Koa's not a stranger here at Molly's - a fact that will surprise exactly no one, I'm sure. Whether he's working a security shift or partaking of the services offered, the young Dragoon is a somewhat familiar sight at the brothel - or at least, he was. These days he's too busy to come down as much as he'd like: reinforcing training regimens instead of protecting workers; sleeping in his office instead of a stranger's warm bed. The few visits he makes to Molly's are bright and welcome things, a little respite from the woes and responsibilities and drama he's managed to shroud himself with in the real world.
That's the idea, anyway. But then there's Jude.
Koa clocks the younger boy right away, surprise flashing over his handsome face as he tries to figure out what the fuck Jude is doing here. Then he shrugs, deciding that it doesn't matter - Jude is a grown up and can do whatever he wants, and more power to him, honestly. It isn't Koa's business to worry that the kid's way out of his depth, and the Dragoon isn't concerned that this is some terribly misguided attempt to cope with having broken up with Soh. He also isn't feeling guilty about being possibly-probably the reason for said breakup.
And he's definitely, definitely not walking over, putting himself in the handsome waif's path, because that would mean that when Jude turned around he'd be forced to say--
"Hey, Jude."
Koa's smile is cautious, one brow raised as he surveys the flush on the younger man's pale skin. Now that he's here he's realizing that he's got no idea what the fuck he's meant to do now, and that it's very likely he's the last person Jude would want to see, and that it was terribly shitty of him to try and make that choice for him. "No worries," the Dragoon murmurs as the Torcher slips away, trying not to acknowledge the small pang as he's visibly rejected in favor of the bar. He's about to turn and find a place anywhere else in the establishment when a small voice sounds behind him, and Koa knows he needs to say no, to create some boundaries before they both get more hurt than they are, that whatever is happening with Jude, he ought to stay far away---
And somehow he's sliding into the spot beside Jude, copper eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. "Sure, sounds good," he answers with an ease that wholly conceals his internal screaming. "What're you having? I'll do the same."
That's the idea, anyway. But then there's Jude.
Koa clocks the younger boy right away, surprise flashing over his handsome face as he tries to figure out what the fuck Jude is doing here. Then he shrugs, deciding that it doesn't matter - Jude is a grown up and can do whatever he wants, and more power to him, honestly. It isn't Koa's business to worry that the kid's way out of his depth, and the Dragoon isn't concerned that this is some terribly misguided attempt to cope with having broken up with Soh. He also isn't feeling guilty about being possibly-probably the reason for said breakup.
And he's definitely, definitely not walking over, putting himself in the handsome waif's path, because that would mean that when Jude turned around he'd be forced to say--
"Hey, Jude."
Koa's smile is cautious, one brow raised as he surveys the flush on the younger man's pale skin. Now that he's here he's realizing that he's got no idea what the fuck he's meant to do now, and that it's very likely he's the last person Jude would want to see, and that it was terribly shitty of him to try and make that choice for him. "No worries," the Dragoon murmurs as the Torcher slips away, trying not to acknowledge the small pang as he's visibly rejected in favor of the bar. He's about to turn and find a place anywhere else in the establishment when a small voice sounds behind him, and Koa knows he needs to say no, to create some boundaries before they both get more hurt than they are, that whatever is happening with Jude, he ought to stay far away---
And somehow he's sliding into the spot beside Jude, copper eyes glowing in the dimly lit room. "Sure, sounds good," he answers with an ease that wholly conceals his internal screaming. "What're you having? I'll do the same."
I'm just a notch in your bedpost,
but you're just a line in a song
but you're just a line in a song
