Redhawk Caldera The lost boys

"Your face is gay," retorted Nightjar unintelligently, aware of the fact that his father's nethers had become well acquainted with both sexes in his time on earth but not aware of whether or not his father liked to lick other men. The idea sent a bit of a shudder skittering through his nervous system. Jewels in the face wasn't exactly his idea of a fun time, even if Nightjar's idea of a fun time was invariably beating someone up or pretending to in a spar.

"Nah," he said dismissively, though he wasn't even thinking much about what Peregrine's suggestion entailed. "I don't want any o' them chicks followin' me back to my digs." Because of course, he'd rather bang someone who already lived here and would be even harder to shake. Nightjar's logic needed some serious work. For all the joking and (almost serious) bantering about having sex with everyone in sight, Nightjar would eventually prove to be a nervous lover, if not one with a boisterous personality in spite of his general stupidity.

Peregrine's next question about mates and children caused his son's face to squick up into a scowl and he said with a grimace, "ew, no, I don't want no pukey babies." Whether his tune would change later in life or not, right now, Nightjar wanted nothing to do with babies unless they were his little siblings.