[ he gives him a funny look, then glances down at their hands, where he's still gently holding the backs of the other teen's. ] Come on, Magnus, you know how most people react to Loki's kids. [ he presses the hands in his, then releases him, leaning back on his palms. ] Not to mention the whole argr thing. [ he makes a face at the term, rolling his eyes. ] Lots of people still don't quite know how to handle trans people. And I know you're different, and now that floor nineteen is educated, they're different, but most of Valhalla still thinks I'm weird and probably untrustworthy.
[ not to mention the lessons he'd learned while homeless, and the ones his parents had rather unintentionally taught him. magnus had been an unexpected, unlooked for, amazing gift.
he glances back up, then, lips quirking up. ] --Please. I'm not blind, Magnus. It took a while to put two and two together, but you get all doe-eyed around me sometimes.
[and for as much as Magnus needed space to think before, he misses the warmth of Alex's hands almost instantly, when he pulls back, his fingertips buzzing with the lost sensation. he wonders if this is what it's going to be like -- dating Alex Fierro, constantly feeling like some kind of static is pushing them together or apart, an electric storm across his skin]
[he's not stupid, and he knows people -- unfortunately, a cynical side of them -- but he still doesn't quite see Alex's point. he was more than Loki's kid, argr was an oudated term for viking jocks, and being trans and genderfluid only made Alex more special and more unique than anyone else in the room by far. his personality was forged on those two hammers throughout his crap life, and he came out so strong and beautiful of a person for it. speaking of beautiful -- gods, that dress he wore to the swear in, when he was a she -- who gave a shit who her mom was, when she looked like that? who gave a shit who his mom was, sitting in front of Magnus, with the fire casting warm highlights into his long green hair? ugh]
[but it's something to argue about later, though, because he's just been insulted by the boy he's agreed to date, five seconds ago]
-- I do not get doe eyed. I'm a fearsome dead warrior of Odin, son of... ok, well, the Frey thing doesn't, er, really help me here, but. I'm not Bambi.
[he laughs, a flush riding high on his cheeks again]
You're kind of Bambi, [ he shoots back immediately, grinning despite himself, face nearly aching with the smiling he's done this conversation. it's ridiculous, they're both ridiculous, and no one makes him this happy like magnus does. he hasn't had a lot of reason to be happy over the course of his life, but.. now he has friends and a sister and-- and a boyfriend, he guesses. that's what it means to date someone, right? magnus is.. his boyfriend.
weird.
he stretches his legs out, because he wants the contact again, calf against the blond's hip. he's never liked people touching him, but now he can't seem to get enough of it. he wants to take magnus's hand again, just because he can, and it's the strangest impulse. (magnus likes him, all of him, male and female.) ]
That's the second time you've called me cute in this conversation.
[maybe it's something he should object to, along the same lines as "Bambi" or, in other conversations, "fuzzy" or "exceedingly Hufflepuff," but instead he's also grinning. if Alex Fierro thinks he's cute, he -- really can only be thrilled about it, honestly. he's stupidly, wonderfully thrilled about it, and it's all over his stupid rosy face, not quite hidden even behind his ducked head and hanging blond hair]
[when Alex presses his calf against his hip, Magnus, after a moment of clear hesitation (the impulse always feels natural, but to think he can touch him -- that he wants to touch him -- is, like it is for Alex, shockingly strange and new), Magnus drops his hand gently around Alex's ankle, just as he'd done a few weeks ago. it rests just as softly and carefully as it did then, but his smile is so much brighter]
[and, gods damn it to Friggin' Hel and a whole bunch of other Norse-themed swear words, when he looks at Alex, he's doe eyed, hopeless]
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[ not to mention the lessons he'd learned while homeless, and the ones his parents had rather unintentionally taught him. magnus had been an unexpected, unlooked for, amazing gift.
he glances back up, then, lips quirking up. ] --Please. I'm not blind, Magnus. It took a while to put two and two together, but you get all doe-eyed around me sometimes.
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[he's not stupid, and he knows people -- unfortunately, a cynical side of them -- but he still doesn't quite see Alex's point. he was more than Loki's kid, argr was an oudated term for viking jocks, and being trans and genderfluid only made Alex more special and more unique than anyone else in the room by far. his personality was forged on those two hammers throughout his crap life, and he came out so strong and beautiful of a person for it. speaking of beautiful -- gods, that dress he wore to the swear in, when he was a she -- who gave a shit who her mom was, when she looked like that? who gave a shit who his mom was, sitting in front of Magnus, with the fire casting warm highlights into his long green hair? ugh]
[but it's something to argue about later, though, because he's just been insulted by the boy he's agreed to date, five seconds ago]
-- I do not get doe eyed. I'm a fearsome dead warrior of Odin, son of... ok, well, the Frey thing doesn't, er, really help me here, but. I'm not Bambi.
[he laughs, a flush riding high on his cheeks again]
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weird.
he stretches his legs out, because he wants the contact again, calf against the blond's hip. he's never liked people touching him, but now he can't seem to get enough of it. he wants to take magnus's hand again, just because he can, and it's the strangest impulse. (magnus likes him, all of him, male and female.) ]
It's cute, though. It's easy to care about you.
no subject
[maybe it's something he should object to, along the same lines as "Bambi" or, in other conversations, "fuzzy" or "exceedingly Hufflepuff," but instead he's also grinning. if Alex Fierro thinks he's cute, he -- really can only be thrilled about it, honestly. he's stupidly, wonderfully thrilled about it, and it's all over his stupid rosy face, not quite hidden even behind his ducked head and hanging blond hair]
[when Alex presses his calf against his hip, Magnus, after a moment of clear hesitation (the impulse always feels natural, but to think he can touch him -- that he wants to touch him -- is, like it is for Alex, shockingly strange and new), Magnus drops his hand gently around Alex's ankle, just as he'd done a few weeks ago. it rests just as softly and carefully as it did then, but his smile is so much brighter]
[and, gods damn it to Friggin' Hel and a whole bunch of other Norse-themed swear words, when he looks at Alex, he's doe eyed, hopeless]
Um. So. We're dating.