[Felix's mind is mess? He's thinking of everything and nothing as Sylvain shifts back, aware, on some level, that the end of the kiss surely means more talking—but he fails to account for Zoltan. Zoltan. The tiny ball of energy that drags Sylvain's attention downwards, and Felix is grateful for him, grateful that there's something light for Sylvain to focus on. Felix was immediately fond of Zoltan when he spotted him peeking out of Sylvain's shirt; now that fondness takes on new meaning, new depth, even as Sylvain says the stupidest shit. So they're parents now, are they...
...Felix shoots Sylvain a Look, of course, lips pressing into a thin line as Sylvain shifts his attention upwards once more. It's expected. It's all so blessedly normal, despite the fact that Zoltan is a strange new addition to both their lives. Their shared lives? Hmm.]
"Zoltie?" [Hmm, no. Firmly:] Zoltan.
[That's a very important name, you little shit—and Felix will be forced to Accept this cutesy version of it within a week. So it goes. Now, however, Felix is seizing upon this opportunity with reckless abandon, because he can and will sort through this bombshell when Sylvain's arms aren't around him, when Sylvain isn't holding him so closely. He should pull away; he does no such thing.]
We're not his—parents. He's your dog, and if he makes a mess, I won't be cleaning it.
[Again, give Felix a week. He'll be grumpily whipped.]
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i had this typed up for hours in a tab? i forgot to hit post, what the fuck
...Felix shoots Sylvain a Look, of course, lips pressing into a thin line as Sylvain shifts his attention upwards once more. It's expected. It's all so blessedly normal, despite the fact that Zoltan is a strange new addition to both their lives. Their shared lives? Hmm.]
"Zoltie?" [Hmm, no. Firmly:] Zoltan.
[That's a very important name, you little shit—and Felix will be forced to Accept this cutesy version of it within a week. So it goes. Now, however, Felix is seizing upon this opportunity with reckless abandon, because he can and will sort through this bombshell when Sylvain's arms aren't around him, when Sylvain isn't holding him so closely. He should pull away; he does no such thing.]
We're not his—parents. He's your dog, and if he makes a mess, I won't be cleaning it.
[Again, give Felix a week. He'll be grumpily whipped.]