dughlas

I have to say I agree with @Bard Simpson. Boone does seem oblivious to some of what Coy is saying. Perhaps it's a case of your readers seeing one thing in him while you as author have a differing view. You "know" your characters motivation, his "thoughts" because he is your creation. We interpret those same things from what we read. It's a bit like your readers having a broader view of the situation than either Boone or Coy because we are privy to both characters "thoughts". You have an even more extended view because of your deeper knowledge of the story you've written. You're just a step or two further down the trail than we are. Like these two we'll get there in the end.

Coy is evolving ... and I like it. Boone seems stuck in denial ... that bothers me. Coy is working through the strictures placed on him by his momma and brother. He's sorting what he thinks and feels for himself. Boone seems determined that Coy can't feel for him what he feels for Coy. I think he's wrong. These are two virile young men and young men tend to focus on the physical expression of their affections but you don't have sex 24/7/365. You do spend much of that time in companionship. Much as they've been doing since they met. I once asked a counselor how I could love and marry a woman if I was gay. He told me love and sexual orientation didn't negate one another and that orientation wasn't a this or that but a scale. I believe Coy loves Boone beyond just friendship. Is he "gay"? I don't know. Could he share himself with Boone? I think so and quite happily. For now I intend to enjoy the journey and leave it to the hopeless romantic spinnin' this yarn to make it happen.

I cheated and bought mum and I toffee from an excellent confectioner back home.

More like an after school special ...

You forgot the cats ...

I'm rather certain that it's Marty being the smart a**.

I believe we are all referring to the lad in the upper right penultimate position as being second from the right.

No, I meant young Mr Llewellyn in his grey shirt.

Yes, I was referring to young Mr. Llewellyn. After further consideration I believe my bro has a more discerning eye and made the correct choice.

But ... it's just a bunch of empty plates ... Oh good. There is food.

I was eight and in the Third grade.

Hmmm, seems Texy and I agree on you're being handsome. I forgot to say I think you're the slightly nonconforming lad in the back row.

Now remember ya little demon, don't fold, spindle or mutilate this one ... Damn, I hope I didn't just age myself with that reference.

Having no idea what this fanfic was based on didn't effect my enjoyment one bit. Of course I've no knowledge of Voltron either so knowing wouldn't have changed things. Regardless I liked this and knowing more is coming pleases me. It's good to have you back.

Uhm, no. Plaid makes him MINE.

Was he in your barn playin' with the cats, again? Just send him before dark.

Well, good e'entide Texy.

Well, he got taller.

Greetings Albert. Your very kind. Today is not one of my best nor has it been one of the worst though I do wish it was better.

You could always just sit in a chair all day. Wait! I forgot. You don't sit on chairs.

He forces them to kneel before his pedestal ...

There's a certain "earthy" decay to the heap and yet a sense of abundant life. Of course a compost heap is something most would overlook. Those who play in the dirt know it for it's place in the life cycle of a garden.

No just the shell casings.

Guess you're bound to be one of them unless you're suggesting you're standing in the back row. Seriously, I too, think you're the one front and center.

That may be but he's wearin' the same halo ...