Re: [Capital University: Misha & Damian]
Misha wasn't competitive, not 'less it was 'bout attention on a stage. He would be competitive for this boy, too, if need be, but he wasn't concerned with winning otherwise. Still, he'd tried as good as he could, and that was likely plenty obvious by how hard he fought to catch his breath as he leaned 'gainst the pool wall. He was focused on it so much, on breathing, that he didn't immediately realize Damian had ducked 'neath the lane divider. And, unlike normal, he didn't immediately feel Damian's presence neither, not for a few seconds and just 'fore Damian talked real close to his ear. "The pants are yours," he agreed with a smile, and then he opened pale eyes to look at the other boy.
Water droplets clung to Misha's eyelashes stubbornly, and he watched as Damian pushed himself to float in front of him. The tickling of toes to shins made Misha kick his feet some as he grinned a fight-laugh grin, and he shook his head. "I ain't able to cheat." Which was true, least as far as the letter of the thing, though Misha had started understanding that he could make nearly anything be 'bout someone else and, therefore, doable.
Thoughts 'bout this were chased clear away by Damian's toes his his trunks, and the bright fabric did slip down to hips and over the curve of his ass. "I ain't fussed," he began, but he corrected himself: "I ain't a lot fussed. Just, you were plenty upset with me, and I been trying to suss why, and I can't figure it. I ain't sure what I did wrong any." And then there was the rest, and he almost ignored it, but then he reckoned that wouldn't be right. "And I'm worried 'bout the drugs."