"Lots of people have terrible situations," Sasha commented idly as he munched on a piece of popcorn. "It doesn't mean you have to turn into some lame crying guy."
He glanced over at Mike, watching the boy stretch out and put his hands behind his head, elbows sticking out. Mike wasn't like most of the people Sasha hung out with. He was a skinny boy, currently about the same height as the half-demon, and with less muscle tone. There didn't seem to be any real styling put into his outfits and it was clear that Mike didn't invest any time in his hair, like Van did. Mike also wore glasses because he couldn't see very well. Between that, his lungs trying to kill him and not having much strength he was lucky to have made it this far in life; clearly humans lived gentler lives than demons.
Yet despite being so weak and sickly, there was also...something about him. Maybe it was the way his glasses magnified his eyes to make him look like a cartoon owl, or maybe it was because he was so utterly defenceless and in need of looking after, or maybe it was because he was smart and knew lots of things and was happy to talk about them, but at some point in their conversation, Sasha had become aware that he thought this boy, who was the opposite of every other boy he'd thought about fucking, was cute.
A lot of the boys Sasha hung out with were cute, so that wasn't anything new. But things were changing. More and more, he found himself lying awake at night, his mind churning and hungry for a physical need he couldn't quite satisfy on his own. The hunger had spilled over into conversations, into texts, and now as he watched this weak boy with a powerful mind making himself comfortable on the Hydra sofa it decided to rear its ugly head again.
Sasha moved the popcorn bowl and scooted a bit closer to Mike, the movie forgotten for now.