If there was one thing Lunero had learned from growing up homosexual, it was how to read the tiniest clues in someone’s body language. While his family had been hugely accepting of him, he had heard enough stories to know that not all others were so lucky. Tales of individuals shunned and disowned, left beaten and bloody, or even killed, had left a strong impression on Lunero from an early age, and so he had quickly learned to pick up on the subtle signs that someone might - or might not - be an ally or potential lover.
Of course, Ernesto had fooled him at first, but the stallion’s subtle eye-narrowing in the seconds following Lunero’s comment might as well have been a giant flashing siren over his head. Cold dread pulsed through Lunero, and it was all he could do not to let his disappointment show on his face. His ears burned white-hot. What a mistake he had made.
Lunero may have considered himself more laid-back and cool-headed than most, but this was one situation he would forever struggle with. The embarrassment was one thing; the ensuing fear that his counterpart might not be at all tolerant of beasts like him was quite another. He could only wait, and hope that Ernesto was not the sort who would be violently repulsed by him.
Thankfully, the stallion seemed to relax after his momentary bewilderment, but the comment he proceeded to make only confirmed that he was, in fact, not actually interested in Lunero and never would be. Though Lunero smiled, he was lost for words and inwardly he felt a stab of mild annoyance. How dare Ernesto flirt with him if he was not gay? How dare he make such a false advertisement, lure Lunero into a honey trap and thus set him up for failure and humiliation?
He swallowed his discomfort, however, and mentally soothed the beast that raged within him. Surely Ernesto had meant no harm by it, and was simply enjoying some banter with a stranger?
“Ah,” he finally managed, though his voice came out in an awkward croak. “Each to their own indeed. I always thought women were more trouble than they were worth. One hundred of them sounds like a headache, though I suppose that doesn't sound so different from a hundred children, eh?”
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