"I didn't say that you said I asked, it's the fact you even mentioned me wanting hand jobs to the mother of the person I kind of wouldn't mind a hand job from!" Mao facepalmed at the very thought of it. It was just so horrible. "I mean, what did she say about it?" What COULD anyone say to that? "Is, she like, planning on saying something to Luke about it? He's gonna know I was talking about him and freak out about it, he's such a weirdo about things like that." Mao slumped his shoulders in overly dramatic woe. "And we were actually getting to be friends, like, normal friends, if his mom says anything to him about me wanting hand jobs it's all over." And Mao really didn't want it to be over.
"What's that supposed to mean? What is there to be worried about?" Mao's face screwed up with confusion and suspicion. "What does she think I'm gonna do to him? He's the one that's fucked me over a bunch of times. I bet he's never gotten drunk and cried like a bitch over me. Why is no one worried about me in all of this? I'm the one that likes that asshole, he's the one who's all afraid of the fact he wants to fuck me." Mao huffed and scowled to himself. It was clear that at some point that afternoon he had reached 'fuck it' mode and thus was just letting out all this thoughts without caring about the repercussions. He needed to talk about this stuff anyway, he had been keeping it inside for over a year now. Mao uttered a sound of frustrated disgust and threw himself into a kitchen chair, looking grumpy.
"...So what's for dinner?" Mao was glad to at least have a good meal to look forward to, Tetsuo did his best, but there was nothing like a meal cooked by a real mom.