Luke rolled his eyes. "Look. All I'm saying is that you live your power. Every time you move, it's working. I bet you'd be the clumsiest jackass ever if you didn't have that weird muscle thing going for you. The difference is that I can turn mine on and off and you can't."
Luke watched as Mao brought the painting over to his desk, admiring it from a distance. Of course, as the artist he saw all the paintings' flaws, but he was a good boy and didn't point any of them out. It was a gift, after all, and Mao seemed to like it even if it wasn't the best work he'd ever done, and that was enough.
Luke's eyebrows shot up as Mao struck the pose. He was just about to force-push Mao off the bed again when the other boy seemed to come to his senses and didn't drop trou. "Hopefully it's a good enough likeness." He rolled over, kind of wanting to change the subject and hopefully get Mao further away from the hold 'taking off his clothes' plan. "So. Are we going to play video games or what?"