— ... haaah?! C-Clear, wait a second, I don't understand ... ! W-whoa, don't spin me again ... !
[ His mind is furiously backpedaling between alarm and genuine shock, because this is extreme even for Clear, and he even dropped the BDSM title in the process?!?!
He can't even be annoyed about the latter, because that's kind of what he wanted right from the beginning, but nothing's making sense! Maybe Aoba hit his head, concussing himself to an extremely lengthy, tripped-out dream, and he'll wake up any moment now on the floor of his room with an ear-splitting migraine or something ... ]
I'm glad you're excited to see me, but you really shouldn't be here —
[ AND THEN Clear's released him only to lean in, shoving his mask up a good few inches, and before Aoba can voice anything in the way of reprisal, he goes and snatches a kiss from him, like it's the most obvious thing in the world to do —
Aoba wrenches back into the tables with a startled, breathy gasp, sending bowls of candy skittering in every conceivable direction and flushing so hotly that his face is positively smarting from embarrassment. ]
Listen, you ... !
[ If it hadn't been preceded by such a startling welcome, he might've been more lenient — it wasn't any worse than anything Noiz has ever forced on him (in fact it was probably better, considering the heads-up he got in advance), but Clear might just take that for approval, and then he'd have another predicament to deal with. To be blunt, if Aoba wasn't losing his composure before, he's gone and murdered any sense of even-temperedness now, because he only lurches forward to
firmly kick Clear in the ass.
(All while techno continues blaring from the speakers, possible ghosts and holograms alike lurking at every corner, what a polarizing scene.) ]
no subject
[ His mind is furiously backpedaling between alarm and genuine shock, because this is extreme even for Clear, and he even dropped the BDSM title in the process?!?!
He can't even be annoyed about the latter, because that's kind of what he wanted right from the beginning, but nothing's making sense! Maybe Aoba hit his head, concussing himself to an extremely lengthy, tripped-out dream, and he'll wake up any moment now on the floor of his room with an ear-splitting migraine or something ... ]
I'm glad you're excited to see me, but you really shouldn't be here —
[ AND THEN Clear's released him only to lean in, shoving his mask up a good few inches, and before Aoba can voice anything in the way of reprisal, he goes and snatches a kiss from him, like it's the most obvious thing in the world to do —
Aoba wrenches back into the tables with a startled, breathy gasp, sending bowls of candy skittering in every conceivable direction and flushing so hotly that his face is positively smarting from embarrassment. ]
Listen, you ... !
[ If it hadn't been preceded by such a startling welcome, he might've been more lenient — it wasn't any worse than anything Noiz has ever forced on him (in fact it was probably better, considering the heads-up he got in advance), but Clear might just take that for approval, and then he'd have another predicament to deal with. To be blunt, if Aoba wasn't losing his composure before, he's gone and murdered any sense of even-temperedness now, because he only lurches forward to
firmly kick Clear in the ass.
(All while techno continues blaring from the speakers, possible ghosts and holograms alike lurking at every corner, what a polarizing scene.) ]
What was that for?!