"Once you're eighteen you can work whatever job you like, but when you came up to me in the hallway and started telling me about your powers with no context I assumed you were looking for a job at SHIELD, that's what people are usually trying to accomplish by doing that." 

"Well, you don't want to have sex with me, and I only have the two skills. --Well, I guess now I understand the unit circle and have written an essay about the importance of harm reduction and know what evolution is and have read all of Shakespeare's gayest plays and can name all the Justices on the Supreme Court, so I have several more skills, but not many that are practical for, like, jobs. Or for making you like me."

"The nice thing about skills is that they're learned, if there's something that you want to do I can help you figure out where to learn how to do it. And I already like you." 

"I kind of figured I would end up dead with a needle in my arm by the time I was twenty-five, so I didn't really bother to make... plans."

"You have time." He holds Chris tighter, more protective. 

"I want you to be proud of me, mostly."

....he isn't sure what to do with that so he settles for continuing to hold him. 

"Do you want to see the essay I wrote?"

"I'd love to." 

Chris pulls up the essay on his phone. 

It's about needle exchange programs and safe injection sites. It is very passionately written; there are statistics and footnotes. The writing is vivid and often quite funny. It also veers wildly from topic to topic and is written in the same tone you'd use to talk to a friend, rather than the tone in which you'd write a school essay. The grammar is good but occasionally slightly stilted, like someone came in afterward to edit it who didn't exactly grasp Chris's voice.

He has no idea what to do with the responding rush of affection. Probably hugging Chris again and saying "It's good" will get the point across. 

MARLO THINKS HIS WRITING IS GOOD.

"Thank you! I worked really hard on it. Lev edited it because my grammar still sucks."

He compliments the research and points out a few lines he thought were particularly strong.

Chris blossoms under praise, like a wilting flower getting watered.

"Maybe I should go to college?" he tries. Adults generally approve of people wanting to go to college.

"If you think it's the best choice for you, but I don't get the sense that you do think that." 

"I don't know what the best choice for me is. I liked sex work okay but you can't do that in the long term unless you're Rachel."

What is the point of trying to do anything to make Captain America happy if he keeps trying to make you make your own decisions?

"Lots of people don't know that when they're seventeen, you're doing fine." 

"I guess I could work for SHIELD or tend bar or do sex work or go to college? And all of those are better than working retail, anyway."

"All of those sound like perfectly decent options." 

Chris curls up sadly on Marlo's shoulder.

At least it's a very good shoulder. 

Marlo adjusts his arms around Chris and holds him closer. 

"I know what I want," he says, "I want to make you happy."

What does he do with that. 

"I'm proud of you," very soft. "You've done great, we don't have to figure this out tonight." 

"I have to get my GED first."

"Yeah. You do." He pauses, and then ruffles Chris's hair.