He shakes his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, babydoll. He may not see that way, but it is an experimentation. He grew up in the backwoods of the Deep South, even if he ever had a stray thought about another boy when he was young, he never, ever might have acted on it. That’s what I meant earlier,” he slides his hands down to clasp their fingers together.
“He never knew he could have feelings for men, and being here in this stupid fucked up town, where there are no rules and no laws and all the expectations of home are gone, he felt safer to explore that… you’ve gone and gotten yourself mixed up in someone trying to sort out their sexuality and it’s a sucky place to be.” Klaus has been stuck in that place before in the past, he was much younger when it happened, but it didn’t change the facts, in his opinion.
“Do you know what you sound like when you defend him and al these shitty, terrible actions, and lies— yes, he lied to you, Malcolm. By not drawing the lines in what his expectations were, by not telling you, not once, but twice, that there were other people. I don’t care what your arrangement is: that’s cheating. He wouldn’t have had an issue telling you when it happened if he didn’t feel wrong, like it was breaking whatever you had agreed to.”
He brings one set of their linked hands up and presses a kiss against Malcolm's fingers. “But do you realize… you sound like an abuse victim?” He asks it softly, gentle as he can be about it, because it’s not something he takes or says lightly— having had to long ago accept he was one of those, too.
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“He never knew he could have feelings for men, and being here in this stupid fucked up town, where there are no rules and no laws and all the expectations of home are gone, he felt safer to explore that… you’ve gone and gotten yourself mixed up in someone trying to sort out their sexuality and it’s a sucky place to be.” Klaus has been stuck in that place before in the past, he was much younger when it happened, but it didn’t change the facts, in his opinion.
“Do you know what you sound like when you defend him and al these shitty, terrible actions, and lies— yes, he lied to you, Malcolm. By not drawing the lines in what his expectations were, by not telling you, not once, but twice, that there were other people. I don’t care what your arrangement is: that’s cheating. He wouldn’t have had an issue telling you when it happened if he didn’t feel wrong, like it was breaking whatever you had agreed to.”
He brings one set of their linked hands up and presses a kiss against Malcolm's fingers. “But do you realize… you sound like an abuse victim?” He asks it softly, gentle as he can be about it, because it’s not something he takes or says lightly— having had to long ago accept he was one of those, too.