Re: log: dylan & max (daniel & lin too)
[Lin didn't have a card, but if he did, it would have had his name on it, not Republican. Because that would be weird and a lot less useful than a card you could hand out to contacts. Seriously. Think about it.—But he didn't, and he preened at the comparison to the well-read Jack Russell Terrier and snorted at the idea that Aubrey bought the man an apron. Not because it was homosexual—He could see it though, right? Why his ex-boyfriend would be into the dude with the weird facial hair, bc that aside, there were some weird, resonant parallels: the mention of a Gameboy for instance, the childish pointing-out that Daniel looked gross, just things like that that probably should have made the boy uncomf. But, he wasn't. He watched the question of Dylan's sexuality (or something) quirk on Max's face and he laughed, nothing timid or held beneath a palm. Lin wasn't subtle. Ever.
Still, Max was trying to have some sort of serious conversation, so he pushed off of the wall near her and plopped next to Dylan after removing his book from the seat. He thought about faking a gasp and telling everyone he told Daniel he pissed in the sink, so the man wouldn't freak when he left, but he wasn't feeling cruel enough.
He settled for sinking in the sick-colored chair, posture a wreck and thin hands clasped over his skinny chest. He stared up at the camera beady in the corner and slowly enunciated. His leg jiggled.] I would kill a man for a pillow.
[He smiled. And honestly, he didn't care about the distinction Dylan made between Orwellian and totalitarian shit. He could have. But, he didn't. The day was a one of small miracles.]