jonas can't think of a time when he's been ready to answer the orientation question, but it also hasn't been enough of a big deal for him to keep it a secret. his usual response is a shrug and a joke—a "i have my cake and eat it, too," or a "porque no los dos?"—casting the whole thing off as a nonissue—those are his true feelings. he's had far more pressing concerns than who he wants to fuck.
even still, the meat of fukawa's commentary, paired poorly with a bold-flavoured question, is enough to make him visibly flustered.)
Well, yeah, I do, I just—wait, why would we be engaged? (engaged is too far. dating is too far. would dating be too far? jonas reaches up to massage the back of his neck.) Look, Fukawa, none of that stuff matters right this second... except maybe your insanely low opinion of yourself, which—Jesus, I can't even tackle that right now.
What does matter is that we're stuck here until we lay one on each other or play curse roulette with that thing.
(the sprite, who has been lazily dangling in the air as if they were lying across a chaise lounge chair, wiggles their fingers at them. a class act.)
I don't know about you, but I know where my vote's going. I'm getting really sick of curses.
no subject
jonas can't think of a time when he's been ready to answer the orientation question, but it also hasn't been enough of a big deal for him to keep it a secret. his usual response is a shrug and a joke—a "i have my cake and eat it, too," or a "porque no los dos?"—casting the whole thing off as a nonissue—those are his true feelings. he's had far more pressing concerns than who he wants to fuck.
even still, the meat of fukawa's commentary, paired poorly with a bold-flavoured question, is enough to make him visibly flustered.)
Well, yeah, I do, I just—wait, why would we be engaged? (engaged is too far. dating is too far. would dating be too far? jonas reaches up to massage the back of his neck.) Look, Fukawa, none of that stuff matters right this second... except maybe your insanely low opinion of yourself, which—Jesus, I can't even tackle that right now.
What does matter is that we're stuck here until we lay one on each other or play curse roulette with that thing.
(the sprite, who has been lazily dangling in the air as if they were lying across a chaise lounge chair, wiggles their fingers at them. a class act.)
I don't know about you, but I know where my vote's going. I'm getting really sick of curses.