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The way he feels is all wrong. Sol doesn't even recognize at first what it is. Sweet shaded by bitter. Poisonous roiling deep in his chest, coming up like bile. A preoccupation of thought that has him distracted throughout the day.
It is not the relief or homecoming he had imagined at first, to meet the man he had thought could be his real brother on neutral terms. Even this close, Banossa is how he is. There is no gap to get close that he can see, and it makes a gap between them.
Heat creeping up his spine. Tension in the back of his throat.
Banossa has no need it seems for a new little brother, even one that has existed for the past seventeen years. He has Kanon to be close with, and others that fill the casual spaces around him. Atosh, Kyle, the Linker he knew, Raj. He puts his hands on them, never just in a casual way, always to smack or push around in the aggression that passes for his friendliness. Sol has never felt him like that. Their eyes barely meet in passing.
Why does it feel so bad to want it? His chest tightens like a knot in his breastbone just seeing it. No, seeing it is the worst part of all. He could deal with not having it if others didn't, either. He'd like it if Banossa was the stray cat he likes to pretend he is.
Is he jealous? What is he jealous for? What does he want, exactly? Banossa is nothing he can guard; they aren't close enough that he can even pretend to have the right. He's never felt this way about anyone before. The closest similarity was more for his father's acknowledgment than his company.
His eyes follow his every movement. A passing glance in return thickens the saliva in his mouth.
Childhood had gotten him used to a wide number of negative feelings in various configurations. This one is new. He has no experience to measure his desires by. Perhaps it is his old wish to know Banossa better grown strong by being in proximity.
(But in bed at night, his stomach coiled like a vibrating spring, he knows better.)