[Obviously what he said was a little bit shitty, and he's not so clueless that he can't tell it hit that way. But he also doesn't exactly understand the dimensions of how Molly took it. It isn't that he thinks Molly is fundamentally unserious. But he does do a lot of things just to try them, just because they seem fun, and he doesn't really understand why he should be an exception to that.
He doesn't know how to respond to the question, though. No, he doesn't want him to stop flirting with him and smiling at him and being cute and making him feel wanted? But he might need him to stop. It's so easy around him to forget himself, slip into another version of himself where a handsome, nice boy's attention would be a pleasant and uncomplicated thing and he could see where it goes. But that doesn't happen to this version of him.]
. . . Hmm. No, but. Maybe it is wasted on the audience you've chosen?
[He can't help it, though. He reaches like he's going to touch him a little, maybe brush away some hair, but he thinks better of it. And that was a little cruel, so he adds - ]
[He softens a little at that, maybe just because the last thing he wants is Caleb using this as a whip on his own back? Sitting up again, just gently putting the tips of his fingers on Caleb's arm.]
Look, I ... Fuck. Um.
[He twists his mouth up. He isn't good at this sort of thing? Absolutely no practice.]
Don't think there's anything wrong with a bit of selfishness now and then. [...] But I don't want to hurt you either, Caleb. Not in-- Ah. Any way.
[But he is a little afraid of getting hurt, maybe. That's not the way he thinks about it in his head, but he is a little bit afraid. Not that Molly will be cruel, but that he will start to believe in something that's a little too good to be true.]
[He was just making a joke. Anyway, he knows the polite thing to do here is ask if he should stop. Or just stop out of his own volition. But he still hesitates. Just pulling his knees up and putting his chin on them.]
Probably. Nice as my coat is, thing isn't exactly warm.
[Meanwhile, Molly's getting up, straightening out his shirt and fixing his belt. Isn't like he's got any more idea than Caleb does where they stand. Oh well. Can probably talk about it next week?]
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He doesn't know how to respond to the question, though. No, he doesn't want him to stop flirting with him and smiling at him and being cute and making him feel wanted? But he might need him to stop. It's so easy around him to forget himself, slip into another version of himself where a handsome, nice boy's attention would be a pleasant and uncomplicated thing and he could see where it goes. But that doesn't happen to this version of him.]
. . . Hmm. No, but. Maybe it is wasted on the audience you've chosen?
[He can't help it, though. He reaches like he's going to touch him a little, maybe brush away some hair, but he thinks better of it. And that was a little cruel, so he adds - ]
I know I've been selfish.
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Look, I ... Fuck. Um.
[He twists his mouth up. He isn't good at this sort of thing? Absolutely no practice.]
Don't think there's anything wrong with a bit of selfishness now and then. [...] But I don't want to hurt you either, Caleb. Not in-- Ah. Any way.
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[But he is a little afraid of getting hurt, maybe. That's not the way he thinks about it in his head, but he is a little bit afraid. Not that Molly will be cruel, but that he will start to believe in something that's a little too good to be true.]
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You say that, but you're making the same face I did when the tattoo needle went over my elbow.
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[Glancing a way, a little uncomfortable.]
It's just a little strange.
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[That's what he'd said the other day anyway.]
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[A small smile to himself, though.]
But you are quite difficult to ignore.
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[A larger smile at that.]
I go around looking like this because I actually want to blend in and not be noticed.
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[Not that he's flashy, but. . . being subject to a lot of flirting from him is a lot.]
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[He was just making a joke. Anyway, he knows the polite thing to do here is ask if he should stop. Or just stop out of his own volition. But he still hesitates. Just pulling his knees up and putting his chin on them.]
. . . Should we go get your proper coat back?
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[Sitting back against the couch, taking a deep breath. Not sure where this left things between them, but either way, not exactly happy about it.]
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[Meanwhile, Molly's getting up, straightening out his shirt and fixing his belt. Isn't like he's got any more idea than Caleb does where they stand. Oh well. Can probably talk about it next week?]