( No shit it doesn't work here. It's not like everyone's been telling him that since the day he fucking got here. He was just hoping he was the exception to the rule, because it fucking sucks. He doesn't want to talk about anything with anyone, not even Rosita. That shit's hard, and he hates it. He hates being vulnerable. He hates being open. He hates doing things that make him feel even a little out of control.

So of course he's stuck doing all fucking three because the city decided to fuck with them by making them fuck. It was just sex for him. Mostly. Sort of?? It was good sex, even if it was slow and passionate and soooo not his norm. But it was just-- it wasn't anything--

Fuuuuuuuck it was too good to brush it off as randomly good fuckity fucking fuck. )

Yeah. You-- you're welcome. ( A beat. ) For the apology.

( Now do more of the hard part, you asshole. He sighs and pulls both hands through his hair, gripping hard at his curls near the back of his head. This is really fucking hard and he hates it. )

I don't know what to do with this. Any of it. What happened, what not. I fuck and run-- back home. Here, too. This-- this was different, and I hate that. ( ...wait. ) That it's different. The sex was still good.

( Better???? Fuck he fucking hopes so. )