[A head-shake, lifting up just a bit to acknowledge Will - and wow, he's close, their noses just an inch apart, out of focus in a soft, familiar way, like every sleepover dawn. Mike can feel his own cheeks go pink, but he doesn't move, instead crooking up an elbow to rest on. His palms feel sweaty.]
Y-yeah. [Oh, jeez.] 'Cause he's, like... [What is he, Michael? What is Legolas? You were certainly thinking of a few words the other day.] He's- [Pretty? No. Cute? Worse.]
His hair's soft. Looks soft. [He wasn't thinking about touching Legolas' hair, who started that rumor?!]
He looks. [Kill him. Put him out of his misery.] Good. He looks nice.
gay slapstick
Y-yeah. [Oh, jeez.] 'Cause he's, like... [What is he, Michael? What is Legolas? You were certainly thinking of a few words the other day.] He's- [Pretty? No. Cute? Worse.]
His hair's soft. Looks soft. [He wasn't thinking about touching Legolas' hair, who started that rumor?!]
He looks. [Kill him. Put him out of his misery.] Good. He looks nice.
[A broken man.]