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He don't not like you! [TJ was hasty to correct him, though honestly he wasn't sure if he was right or wrong about that. The only thing he was really sure of was that he didn't want Psii to leave.] He's just bein' an asshole about it, 'cuz he's got the wrong idea.

Human's are weird about their--uh, their 'reds'.

[Just a kind of blank stare at that.]

I noticed. [Sorta hard not to.] ...Tho what do you plan on telling him, then? How are you going to lead? I mean... you have the whole recording to talk about, him hiding hith crap from you, me...

That'sth a lot of bullthit, TJ.

Don't you think I don't know? [And as soon as he said, he realized how easily his guard slipped without him even realizing. No "I'll be fine," no "It ain't that bad." It was weird, and it took TJ a moment to recover.]

... I mean, I can handle it. We're good at talkin'. [Not lately, but TJ was still clinging to the knowledge that they could.] It's just been one thing after another, lately...

[Yeah, don't think he doesn't notice that, TJ. For that, Psii is going to lower his hand from those dandelion dreads of yours and gently pat your cheek, the yellowblood in him making his palm noticeably warmer than his.]

Thoooth. [There's a particular kind of chirring noise to the sound.] Let it out, man.

[TJ almost shied away at first, before he remembered. Oh, that's right. Papping. Still reminded him a gynecologist, but hell if it wasn't indescribably comforting.]

It's out, man, it's... it's fuckin' out. [A deep breath.] I just gotta relax.

T-Thanks.

[Damn straight it's comforting. Trolls know what they're about.] >

You thure? You're not jutht thaying that?

[Pap pap pap.]

Hah, dude, quit it. [But he didn't really want him to quit it, and the laugh in tone made that obvious.] I'm sure, aight?

[He could be sure-er, though.]

Doubly thure? Two ith my thing, I have to check twice.

[He will cuddle the shit out of you, TJ, he learned from Disciple and Signless against his will so damn straight he is going to use this knowledge.]

Dude! [But now TJ really was laughing, spurred on by the pap-assault. The ball of tension in his gut was unwinding, at least a little.]

You are so fuckin' weird, man.

[Said with all the fondness in the world. Really.]

[Laughing. He can deal with laughing. Grinning a little himself, he pinches TJ's shoulder.]

You want to talk about weird? I've theen weird, and it's called "human genitalth". It flopth.

[At the reminder -- and what a reminder -- TJ sat up again, brow furrowed.]

Shit, yeah, that's right! You totally hit that, man!

[God, it was nice to talk about something else. Anything else. Even Jim Kirk's dick.]

[Whoa there, buddy. Psii flops back as TJ suddenly shoots up, and sniggers. They're going to talk about all his issues again at some point tonight, don't think they won't, but he is totally up for talking about how he got laid.]

Hell yeth I did. He thaid he hathn't dithappointed anyone, and I can't lie- I left your apartment a thatisfied cuthtomer.

Did he seriously say that shit? Like, verbatim? [TJ pulled a face, not sure if he should be impressed or amused at the kinda douchey bravado. Then again, that was hardly new territory from ol' Captain Kirk.] Damn. Well at least he could back it up.

[He elbowed Psii, smile growing a little more earnest.]

Told you ya wouldn't have any trouble.

I may or may not have encouraged him to that point. But thtill.

[Oh, that reminds him- He looks concerned for a brief second.]

Room clean enough for you? I tried, but it wath a bit... unconventional from uthual thex for me, tho it wath methier than it thould have been.

... "Room clean enough"? [To be honest, TJ didn't notice much different about their room other than it smelling like sex, which Amal complained about but wasn't all that surprising.]

Uh, yeah dude, it's cool. I mean it's not like I thought you were goin' up there with him to make paper dolls.

[Phew. He grins.]

Awethome. I thought about about getting a bucket, but then I thaw what wath between hith legth, and whupth... Alien junk ith not that compatible.

A bucket? [TJ repeated again, utterly befuddled.] Y'know, you're gettin' me real curious about what y'all keep between your pegs.

Alath, you will never know. Maybe. [But he's grinning a bit.] But we produce a lot of genetic material. Thupposed to go into a bucket, which you give to a drone, which goeth to the Mother Grub, but here I gueth you'd... I dunno, clean it out or thomething.

[The nativity wasn't so strong in TJ that he couldn't gather what "genetic material" stood for. Eugh. Cue him pulling a face.]

I'm gonna guess your species gets knocked up real easy.

...Knocked up?

[???]

Y'know, preggers! Eatin' for two? With child? ... Bun in the oven?

[???]

Trollth can't procreate with one another. I mean, like- jutht one another. We need a Mother Grub.

[???]

Wait--huh? I mean, wait, you said that, but I just thought... [Honestly, TJ didn't know what he thought.] The hell is all the 'genetic material' for then?

You put it in a bucket. You give the bucket to an Imperial Drone. The drone giveth it to the Mother Grub, who taketh it in, mixeth all the material of the race together, and then popth out eggth.

[You know, like you do.]

[NO, THAT IS NOT LIKE YOU DO.]

... Shit, man. [TJ shook his head, letting out a profoundly deep breath. The hell, Psii.] Trolls are fuckin' complicated.

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