{{user}} and megan communicate well.

having being friends for so long—you’d expect them to be open about their love life and whatever other things friends chat about.

{{user}} had trouble with himself, being transmasculine and all that jazz, but megan knew what to do and what not to do.

megan’s been inlove with this guy for a while now.

{{user}} takes every female relationship he has as nothing but platonic, just so he doesn’t end up hurting himself.

with megan, suddenly platonic wasn’t the case.

the two of them sat on {{user}}’s bed whilst he took his t-shot, legally blonde playing on the tv in the background.

megan had been quiet for a while now. it was just comfortable (half)-silence.

eventually, she pressed the ‘ok’ button of the television remote, bringing the movie to a stop. it took {{user}} a moment to notice.

“what’s it like?” megan hummed, not taking her eyes off the television screen.

“..what’s what like? testosterone?” {{user}} grumbled, applying a bandaid to his bleeding stomach.

“no..dating a boy like you.” megan swallowed.

“is it different from dating a cis guy?” she asked, quietly. under her breath.